#AND IT'S NOTHING MORE THAN PLATONIC! HOW CRAZY IS THAT

[kenyummy]

✰ 03. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 03. each coin can be flipped twice.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: you guys don't know true pain until you have to copy and paste each individual paragraph into a new draft because you forgot how tumblr drafts work </3

n e ways getting into the batfams characterisation yipiieeeee . i tried to incorporate overthinking into tims part realistically bc that's lowkey how i overthink things but hey. im open to respectful criticism. ive also been consuming a lot of batfam media and i tried to my take on their guilt and how it plays into the crazy thing hagaashhaha im going insane fml

prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.

You'd always been far too normal. That's what had driven you, all these years, to such a bitter nature. It wasn't like you'd done anything wrong—you'd done everything a regular person would do, and that was the problem.

This kind—your kind—of normality was impossible for a family like yours.

Impossible for them to understand. Relate to. See. Always falling behind, watching as their costumes and capes flutter in the wind, blowing their vision of you. Too wrapped up in the latest villain to spot the regularity in their life.

You'd wake up at 8am, eat a slice of toast with yoghurt and mixed berries—do pilates, and go on with your day.

(Your family would stay up till 8, fighting the crime that riddled the Gotham streets with an iron fist—sneaking out of the house to play dress up with a bunch of mentally insane criminals.)

You'd spend your nights at home, having done everything you'd needed to that day—lazing around with a comic book in hand.

(Your family were far too busy most nights at Arkham—preventing their hundredth breakout and the spread of fear toxin.)

You'd watch, pupils dilated as your siblings, your father came home bruised, beat, and bloodied (with whose blood—you could only guess).

You'd watch in agonising silence as they'd shoo you off after you'd peek from behind their doorframe—saying this kind of work wasn't suitable for eyes like yours.

Those same eyes dimmed that day—staring blankly into nothing as the sight of that sickening crimson red became more common to you, with each passing day.

Dripping down onto the ground—you'd never be able to get rid of that blood. No matter how hard you scrubbed the floorboards, there would always be that stain of red.

You'd grip the sheets—nails digging into mesh fabric—with a steel-knuckled hold. You'd draw what it would be like to be one of them. That same blood-red suit—yet with a different kind of venom to a bat.

Crawling up a water spout—you, the spider—were washed out by the bitterness enrapturing your heart that was once full and blooming like the most beautiful of gardens.

Venom drips from your fangs and yet left unbitten. Never poisoning anything but your own tongue.

To be overlooked and unseen with the most brilliant mind a god could conjure; the world, your family—may never love a spider, but you will find somebody, someday, who will.

Tim Drake was not used to that expression on your face.

... Actually—he wasn't really used to any expression on your face. For a moment, it felt more like a blur to him than anything. Memories of you—they were few and far between.

Except that look of pity you'd always seem to give them. The image appeared in his mind suddenly, for whatever odd reason. That sad, almost puppy-ish, expression that he'd never really given a second thought.

(Though—it made you appear more of a baby to him.)

Perhaps he'd just gotten used to it. After all this time, what could've possibly changed?

He was wrapped up with something strange given to him by Bruce when he'd seen you. A strange, web-like substance—he was just getting ready to study it when it dissolved like nothing were ever there.

Like silk, it was soft. Like glue, it was sticky. Like fibers, it was stringey. Yet—after just a few hours, it was as if it never existed. Like it were nothing but a bad dream.

Bruce and Damian talked about it like it were a spiderweb—fitting, considering the hero that wielded it, they described as looking more arachnid than human.

Regardless—his mind was already frazzled and buzzing with all kinds of thoughts. Spider. Spider Web? Spider.

Where is that fucking web?

The stress crawls under his skin like bugs and he itches. The red left over is so familiar to him—but perhaps never the same at all.

(That same red you'd seen with those big, glassy eyes—unlike that motionless gaze you'd give him sparingly. If he bled again, would you look at him kindly like that once more?)

Then, a shoulder crashes into his. Hard. Enough to almost knock the vial out of his hands. The frustration is just about to bubble over—the words crawling up his throat like bile and his chest tightens with that familiar burst of rage.

(Tim, crash-out, Drake—Steph called him once.)

But he stops.

It's only you.

Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at school? He hadn't been to school in a while—being a vigilante leaves a guy's schedule pretty packed—but he's sure...

"[name]? What are you doing here? Isn't it school hours...?" He asks, curiously.

You blink, face blank. He can't get a read on that face. He simply can't decipher it. It bothers him more than it probably should've. "I felt sick, so I decided to come home. Still a bit frazzled from... you know."

His heart beats faster. What? You went to school? You really went to school?

(Even if he realised it beforehand, it's like the shock runs through him again. What's wrong with him?)

You went to school even though you were shot a few days ago? Did that really happen? Did he... not realise? He's supposed to know this stuff, isn't he? Isn't he the smart one? Doesn't he keep tabs on everybody? Doesn't he look at you?

A cold chill fills his body, and he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. Before he can stop himself, the words spill.

"...Bruce is going to be worried. You know how he feels when you and Damian skip."

You glance to the side, considering something. He wants to know. Will you tell him? He feels like he knows nothing about you anymore. It's dehibilitating.

Since when have you brushed them off so easily? You were never like this before. You used to preen at a simple headpat (not from him—but you seemed to especially love your two oldest brothers) and practically glow when somebody talked with you.

"I think I'll live. Bye." You shrug.

His heart nearly beats out of his chest. What? Why are you acting like this? Don't you care?

Why are you acting like you hate it? You hate them? You don't care? What's wrong with you?

Did you get a concussion when you were shot? Did you hit your head and forget everything? Did you lose your mind after getting lead poisoning? Is this even you? What happened when you were shot?

Every possible question excluding—what has he done?

The bullet he saw in your shoulder flashes in his mind. When Jason practically kicked the door down, carrying your heavily breathing body bridal style and yelling for Bruce to get his ass over here.

Why were you out in the first place? Why weren't you at home? What happened to you? Why were you shot? What could you have done?

He had no time to think about it before. Not when he was so busy, and Riddler was causing up a stir.

Now, he is crumbling.

You're walking away, but his vision shakes. He feels like he's going to crumble. He hates it. This feeling. The feeling of knowing he simply just can't figure this out. He's mad. At you, or himself—he isn't quite sure. Perhaps a mix of both.

Why have you changed? Why did he not realise? Had you even changed? Did he ever know you?

He nearly crushes the vial in his grip. His hand reaches out, to grasp you. Your shoulder. The bullet lodged deep within you. Maybe if he got rid of it, you'd go back. To normal. You'd be your normal self again.

He feels it so deeply.

That crippling, nihilating urge to—

He stops. Watching you walk away. Fast. So fast. He can't catch up. No amount of training could've allowed him to walk alongside his little sibling.

Perhaps he found himself caught in that spider's silky trap—bound and unmoving as he just couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

The empty vial doesn't concern him much anymore. He stares at it with eyes as hollow as the glass is.

Tim wonders when everything changed.

Dick Grayson watched your convulsing body with shaking eyes. A bullet lodged in your shoulder and crimson dripping onto the ground in a sickening rhythm. He couldn't reach out. He couldn't have touched your face. Not when Jason held you like that. Like a guard dog. His bloody helmet slamming to the ground just for Dick to see the absolute fury on his little brother's face.

Pupils blown—Dick knows what's going on. Better than any of the rest of them, he'd even go as far as to say. He's manic. Absolutely manic. Shouting and yelling for anyone—asking what Bruce was doing, letting you out alone this late. What he was fucking expecting.

Nobody speaks. Nobody can. What could they possibly say? That they didn't notice? That nobody did?

Jason might have taken them all on in your honour if he had truly said those words out loud. He always would've, even if he never stayed for long.

Dick almost wants to sock Jason in the face for keeping you away, so close to his own heart.

(He would've done the same, if only he had you. If only you would let him.)

The only thing he can see in his brothers' arms is that child who used to hide in the most obvious of spots. Crouching behind that large TV with the tips of their hair peeking out. Who used to laugh so gleefully when everyone pretended they couldn't find them.

He sees you, and nearly falls over.

Dick Grayson isn't a stranger to blood. Blood had followed his footsteps wherever he goes. He is made of the blood of everyone he lost and fears to lose.

He didn't think you'd fit into the former so quickly.

(You never thought you were either—did you?)

He can't do anything when he sees Jason carry you out. Slipping into a car with Bruce and Alfred and driving off, far past the speed limit.

He is powerless to move. He is useless. As he was when he watched his parents fall. When he was held back by Bruce when he found that vile man.

He hadn't felt like this for a long, long time.

He was the perfect one. He was the best of them. The first. Everything Batman was supposed to be. Nightwing. Robin. Doing everything he could to be what Bruce wanted.

He was the perfect one.

What use was that when your blood stains the hardwood floors?

What use was him not remembering what you looked like until this moment? The only time he'd ever seen you was when a bullet was lodged in your shoulder, and your body was practically convulsing.

... This should never have happened.

You were always the normal one. The most regular. Never tainted by the horrors of Gotham. Bright. Kind. Your eyes were always so kind. Pitiful. You'd always pity them. Wanting to help, but how could he possibly let you?

How could he possibly let you see the shattered expression on his face each time he'd seen you hurting? (Even if it was you hurting for them.)

You never should've...

He stops his own train of thought.

Why were you out, anyway? Hadn't you known how awfully terrible Gotham is at night?

Hadn't he... warned you...?

Dick walks off, eyes following his retreating figure—he can't find it within himself to care. He storms upstairs—almost frantically.

Everything is so quiet. Nobody here. Nobody waiting here like there usually is.

Where you usually are. The end of the hallway. It's brighter over here. The windows more open. The floorboards more bleached by the sun than back where his childhood room used to be.

He almost kicks the door open when his sweaty hands can't get a good grip on the doorknob.

(He can't. He can't destroy the barrier between you both, no matter how hard he tries.)

It slips open, eventually. Dick takes in the sight, silently, eyes darting around.

There's dust littering the air, highlighted by glittering light. The glow of the sun pours into your room like molten honey. Shining down onto your carpet.

There is nothing else.

Your room is so empty. If he didn't know better, he'd thought this were a guest room. Scuffed—but suitable for a short visit nonetheless.

How long have you stayed here?

Dick tries to ignore the bleakness that fills his head when he tries to answer his own question.

He can't bring himself to step inside. Not without you there. He stands in the doorway, as lost as he felt when he world came crashing down with that tightrope.

He feels like a little kid all over again. As helpless as a little kid is in this world.

As helpless as you were.

As helpless as you are.

Your face looked like a blur for all these years. Lingering in the background, but never for long. His nails dig into the calloused flesh of his palm. Hardened from years of fighting, protecting all he cared about. All those he failed to protect before.

He didn't do anything, did he? Not for so long. For as long as Jason died, was it?

... How long was that?

He wasn't sure when you slipped from his mind. So caught up with those beside him—he hadn't seen you slip behind, silently.

That little kid, staring up with tearful eyes. Asking where Jason was. Asking when they could all play together again.

Behind the capes, the masks—behind him, there was you.

Dick would've fallen over if he hadn't caught himself on the doorframe.

How could he have possibly, ever let you out of his sight? How can he stand to look at you when he let this happen? The most regular thing in his life. Something he had never given a second glance.

His chest hurts with a white-hot pain that stings his entire nervous system.

The best of them all—it was never him. It was always you, wasn't it?

The one keeping him grounded was you—he feels like his heart can't beat properly. Clutching it hard, nothing works. The ache stings, but nothing feels worse than his mind spiralling with thoughts of you laying in a hospital gown with red seeping out your side.

He will never, ever let something like this happen to you again.

Dick will let you know you'll never need to worry about anything again as long as your favourite big brother is here.

taglist: @hello-bina @cosmosluckycharms @1abi @yhin-gg @insideoutjulie @bluepanda08 @omnivirgo @vanessa-boo @dind1n @welpthisisboring @lunaetiicsaystuff @marsmabe @atanukileaf @findingjaxx @4mrplumi @bunniotomia @lostsomewhereinthegarden @bat1212 @gaychaosgremlin @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @randomlyappearingartist @cxcilla @spidermanluvr444 @cruzerforce4256 @mybones537 @xjesterxjacksx @nirvanaxx1942 @djpuppy-kittens @br33zy-blizzardz @moon0goddess @0sunnyside01 @mei-simp @redsakura101 @the-dumber-scaramouche @wizzerreblogs @lovemiss-vale @deathbynarcisstick @allycat4458 @wonmyheart @luckyangelballoon @one-piecelover @hartwyrm @horror-lover-69 @maria-trisha @4rachn3 @galaxypurplerose @duskeras @coffeeaddictxd @lithiumval @kaz-playz

if you asked to be on the taglist but aren't there, make sure your account is able to be tagged and ask me again!!!

[starrynightarchive]

it makes me want to tear my hair out when someone mentions that platonic relationships need to have sexual/romantic undertones to be interesting. friendships that blur the lines between romantic and platonic is great, friendships that have sexual relations are great, any kind of friendship is great. but these days im seeing this awful thought of "friendship needs to not be strictly platonic to be interesting and platonic" and people don't realise that this is just "friendships are less important than romantic/sexual relationship" in a different font. im very intense about my friends and each of my relationship with them is different than the other. one of my best friends is also almost like my partner. another one of my best friend is just my best friend. there is nothing romantic or sexual orientation whatever between us. i love both of them dearly and one relationship here is not more important than the other to me. i smile so wide my face hurts when i see her walking towards me. we used to live a few streets away and yet everytime i saw her i used to run to go embrace her. i have seen them in their lowest and they have seen me in mine. i do not want to kiss her on the lips or make her my girlfriend. the thought has never crossed my mind. but she has saved my life multiple times. she is a part of my soul. she is my friend. and if you say "yeah, that's what i mean, that emotion and its intensity is inherently romantic!" then that means you haven't experienced the height of love and care friendship can offer and im so sorry for your loss. also you are subscribing into the inherently harmful thought of "everything that is intense and meaningful is romantic". like my wonderful friend vik once said, "they're not my just anything. they're my friends."

[mr-payjay]

watching the nickel apology scene from the great bluish bakery over and over going completely insane. i could rewrite this to actually sound like nickel.

[waffultaim]

Being a firegray shipper in the warriors fandom is such a drama, you think you have problems with your rarepair or unknown ship well you really don't understand real pain, it's supposed to be simple this generic basic shipping that could have amount of content by default because they are "BFF" in canon yet still nothing no sound no much talk, they have amount of paragraphs, lines, phrases, iconic moments in the books; the "Always Firestar", "I would give my life for you", "no cat would feel the same he felt for Graystripe for four long seasons"...yet still nothing it's so goddamn funny that makes me laugh 😂 and cry 😭 at the same time!! how doomed this pair can be tell me!

[luvth0t]

RIDICULOUS ━ L.N

in which lando can longer cope with you laughing at the mere idea of being with him, and you realise it wouldn’t be that ridiculous. but it may be all too late.

warnings; nswf, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, lando in the friend zone, implied that reader is a year or two older than lando, little bit of angst, choking, soft dom!lando, silly reader, overstimulation i guess, lotta praise, oral, fluff at the end if you squint

lando was infatuated the moment he met you.

it took a while to realise how strongly he felt, considering he met you at arguably the most chaotic time of his life.

his first year in f1, carlos his teammate; meaning you were around every race from the start, to this day.

he wanted his own photographer after a mere few interactions with you, but quickly realised he only cared about photos because you were the one occasionally taking them.

carlos signing for ferrari meant lando was losing two people; his teammate and you. his friend.

he’d jokingly asked you to jump ship, work for him instead. if only you knew how serious he was being.

you never looked at lando the way he looked at you. he was like a friends annoying little brother, one you couldn’t help but pity and adore.

he made you laugh, was fun to be around. a change from the personality’s you would come across in the paddock. it was no shock to you that carlos built a bond with him ━ as did you.

since joining ferarri you didn’t see the brit as much as you’d like, not that carlos’ new teammate was a let down. charles was lovely. you didn’t feel invasive taking shots of the pair of them.

but you still kept it touch. occasional group outings, dinners and celebrations. you weren’t oblivious to the way he always made time for you. but you were naive to the deeper meanings.

his flirtations were nothing of concern, to you it was a running joke. amongst many of you; you didn’t think lando actually wanted anything from you beyond platonic.

he could handle rejection. but being laughed at? he could only cope for so long.

“he begged me to invite you tonight,” carlos’ words were teasing, directed towards you yet his eyes rested on lando; out for dinner with a few other team members from mclaren carlos hadn’t caught up with in a while.

melbourne was one of your favourite races for this very reason, having to get here so early meant you had time to catch up with those in the paddock away from the craziness.

lando’s eyes lifted from the menu he was reading; scoffing immediately, already prepared to jump on the defence ━ not giving you a chance to speak.

“i was making sure you hadn’t forgotten anyone, y/n included.” lando corrected, flashing you a grin in the midst of his explanation, one you mirrored.

“i’d like to think my presence would be a given,” you huffed back at carlos; and lando felt a fool for allowing his heart to jump at the prospect of you also defending him.

“of course it is. just saying, lando was set on making sure you’d be here.” carlos smirked; eyes now on his own menu, pretending as if he wasn’t attempting to stir the pot.

“he misses you,” an engineer spoke up from besides lando, nudging the british driver who could only roll his eyes; not at all unfamiliar with being targeted with such banter. he copped it a lot worse when you were all on the same team.

“mhm, misses me. not carlos.” you grinned; practically bragged ━ nudging carlos this time; you’d grown a talent it seemed for redirecting the topic of conversation. trying too at least, and the way lando smirked made it clear he appreciated your efforts.

he’d nodded as well, confirming your words. in no way ashamed to admit he missed you more than the spaniard, while it didn’t seem like there was any truth to his words with the playful smile on his face; the assumption couldn’t be any closer to the truth.

“if you miss her so much you should go out for dinner just the pair of you,” carlos challenged quickly; earning an eye roll from yourself and a small giggle at the idea ━ oh the shit show that would be, you and lando out for dinner. you could read the headlines now.

lando caught the way you laughed, you however missed the way his eyes snapped to you in the moment. the way his smile faltered, merely from watching you completely dismiss and laugh at the idea of spending just a single dinner with him alone. what’s so funny about that? could it really be the most absurd idea? no matter how many times you reacted in such a way it always stung.

he recovered almost instantly however, like he always does.

“wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, know you don’t like to be left out.” lando mused; earning another laugh from you ━ one that was music to his ears, hearing you laugh at his jokes was always enough to have him holding his chin a little higher.

“oh i’d be more than happy to see you finally get out of the friend zone.” carlos regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, catching the way lando’s smile fell and jaw tensed ━ quickly realising his teasing may have gone too far.

your lack of reaction killed lando more than carlos’ words did, the way you barely battered an eyelash ━ completely unbothered while he sat here trying to not pop a blood vessel. he wanted to defend the relationship or friendship you had, but there wasn’t much to defend.

because carlos was right, he was painfully stuck in the friend zone.

“how much longer till you realise these jokes got old two years ago?” you sounded awfully unbothered as your gaze remained on your menu, only looking up when another engineer spoke up.

“it’s just a joke?” he’d asked in full seriousness, eyes flickering between yourself and lando. he wasn’t on carlos’ side of the garage, always working on lando’s side. he barely interacted with you; only heard things through the grapevine.

“obviously.” you spoke as if it was…obvious, and the laugh you let out would’ve softened the blow of your words had lando not already heard this a thousand times.

“ah, ah, ah. don’t forget about silverstone.” carlos simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut; bringing up the night where everyone was convinced you and lando spent the night together.

which would be valid if you actually had, but you hadn’t. you went home together purely because you both were tired. he dropped you at your hotel room, didn’t even come inside. somehow no one believed either of you when you squashed their suspicions that ‘lando’s wish had finally come true.’

“don’t be ridiculous.” you scoffed, shaking your head ever so slightly. lando’s silence would’ve been deafening if others weren’t jumping in to speak, and maybe you would’ve noticed his lack of input if you spared him a glance.

he was managing to muster a fake smile, it was almost painful. any amusement he was clinging too had vanished, wanting the conversation to be over with.

“it’s not ridiculous.” carlos huffed; and lando almost wanted to nod in agreement. thank him even. because it wasn’t ridiculous, he didn’t think so at least. it made sense to him. you made so much sense to him.

“it is.” the nail in the coffin, lando couldn’t keep smiling anymore. you sounded oh so certain, all the while the smile hadn’t left your face. “come on now,” you added in exaggeration at carlos’ unconvinced face.

lando wasn’t sure what you said next, he didn’t want to hear it. he couldn’t figure out why hearing all of this was suddenly unbearable, but before he knew it he was not so subtlety excusing himself ━ something about getting another drink, before standing up and bee lining to the bar.

the abrupt departure didn’t halt anyone else’s movements, conversations continuing and carlos joining in a debate with his cousin and his old mclaren press officer; while your attention got stuck on lando’s full glass ahead of you.

he didn’t need another drink.

you watched as he weaved through the crowds, the way he failed to smile at anyone he passed by; the tension clear in his jaw; it almost appeared as if he was scowling.

it was funny, because your first thought was if you offended him. but you couldn’t figure out what possibly could have; it was laughable how unaware you were of his feelings.

“i’ll be back,” you excused yourself, standing up and following in lando’s directions without any hesitance; a slight frown on your face as you dodged people left and right to get to the bar.

you weren’t sure why the prospect of upsetting him upset you so much, but the sudden urgency to check on him was too powerful to ignore.

“rude to not offer a girl a drink you know?”

lando’s eyes only shifted towards you for a mere couple of seconds when you made your presence known. he could count on one hand the amount of times he wished to be alone when you were near, but this was one of them.

he was drained, unable to fake any more smiles or shrug off any more comments. blame it on the jet lag.

“apologises,” he hummed; not offering you another glance which had your suspicions confirmed, your furrowed brow showing concern not that he could see. his blue eyes were focused ahead on the busy bartender.

“you good?” you internally cringed as the words left your lips, unable to figure out a way to address the sudden mood without sounding overbearing or overstepping.

you watched as his shoulders tensed; as his eyes strategically continued to avoid you, only making the pit in your stomach feel deeper, as if it could swallow you whole.

“peachy.” his sarcasm was clear, and while it would usually be a relief it wasn’t laced with the usual humour. it was blunt, dismissive ━ and if you had any doubts left about being the reason for him running off, they were now squashed.

“did i say something━ did carlos say something?” the questions stumbled out of your lips in concern, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “i’ve tried to tell him to lay off with the jokes, it’s stupid i know.” you began to ramble.

lando finally let his gaze land on you, and the sight of your sympathetic eyes and worried frown had him feeling guilty. which was ridiculous, but suddenly he felt an urge to reassure you he was fine. that you hadn’t said anything.

but you had.

“it’s not the jokes,” lando cut you off; hands running over his head, even letting out a laugh at how pathetic he sounded. he was going to continue, explain it further; but he stopped himself.

he couldn’t. it was a can of worms that must remain shut.

you stood in silence for a moment, under the impression he’d keep speaking. but he didn’t. leaving you with no explanation; just further confusion.

“no?” you hummed; eyebrows raising. “because i totally get if it is. it’s ridiculous how they keep going on━” you were rambling again, trying to make the situation better. attempting to ensure he felt heard, that he could speak to you about what was bothering him.

so oblivious to the fact you were just digging yourself a deeper hole.

there was that word again; ridiculous.

“is it? is it really that ridiculous?” lando couldn’t stop the question from flying out of his mouth; only now turning to properly face you; in time to catch the dumbfounded look on your face from his question.

it took a few moments to try understand what he meant, coming up short as you stared at him clueless, lips parting to try come up with something to say but falling short.

“is what?” you mumbled, suddenly all confidence was gone. almost scared to hear the answer; purely because you recognised the doubt and regret illustrating his face.

but lando had nothing else to lose, you’ve rejected him in front of everyone else without realising. what’s once more?

“us. dinner us two, having gone home together in silverstone. this?” lando sighed out like it was obvious, hands waving between the pair of you.

because to him it was so obvious. the amount of times he’s almost asked you to join him for a meal, just the pair of you.

maybe if he had you’d see what he saw.

silverstone meant so much to him, having expected nothing from you but he thought about the taxi ride back to the hotel more than he’d like to admit. he could’ve sworn you’d been flirting with him that night.

he even thought it would’ve been the start of something.

optimism was a curse however, because stupidly lando thought perhaps after finally expressing his feelings that maybe you’d reveal your hidden reciprocation. that maybe you were scared like him.

but instead all he could see was shock. and confusion. and fuck, was that sympathy?

“what?” it was a weak response, but all you could muster. you were attempting to find any other explanation for his words, to figure out what he could be implying.

lando had to laugh, shaking his head as he faced the bar again; hands running over his face as you quickly realised he was being fully serious.

“it’s not━ we’ve never━ i mean it would be weird.” word vomit, you didn’t know what you were saying; usually so careful with your words you knew the moment lando looked at you in shock and offence you’d be haunted by that very sentence. “not weird━ but,” you attempted to fix your mistake, eyes screwing shut.

another laugh from him beat you to it however.

“ridiculous. i got it,” lando spoke through a breath, sounding incredibly defeated which had your stomach dropping.

you struggled to find words to assure him, still attempting to process what he’d just told you. you hadn’t ever looked at him in that way. he was always just… lando.

“lando…” you trailed off with a frown, only now starting to realise the position you both were now in.

the awkward tension was growing quickly and you’d never despised something so quickly. you refused to let this be the bitter end to your friendship.

“it’s fine. just drop it.” lando huffed, standing up straight; eyes finding yours once more. he didn’t want you to feel bad, he’d accepted long ago that his chances of you feeling the same were slim.

you can’t apologise for how you feel.

“no we should talk about it,” you disagreed, so much concern and care in your eyes it almost made him sick. he didn’t need that from you. and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how he’d spent years pining over you.

he’d kept it secret for a reason, to avoid this.

“i’ll pass,” lando hummed; the half smile he mustered up did little to comfort you as he licked his bottom lip and glanced around the room. “i’m gonna head up,” he cleared his throat.

you’d gone to express your dismay with such thing, but he was walking off before you could get another word out; left alone at the bar dumbfounded and suddenly in need of a drink.

it would be quite sad to admit that one revelation could change your whole weekend. but it did.

you’ve never had trouble sleeping, in fact the jet lag usually knocked you out. yet you’d spent the best of your time in melbourne thinking through every word lando said. looking back on every damn interaction the two of you shared.

you felt like an idiot. because suddenly it made a lot of sense, what you failed to realise in the moment fell together piece by piece.

an insight into his intentions for the effort he’d put into the friendship over the last couple years was eye opening, and while you were unsure as to how you hadn’t assumed such thing sooner, you found yourself asking the question how it made you feel.

you’d be lying if you didn’t have a few moments of giddiness as you recounted certain times. how he drove you home from pre-season testing one time because you didn’t feel well. how he always got you flowers for your birthday.

suddenly your mind was consumed with the thought of lando every waking second. from the moment you entered the paddock on thursday you were looking for him. which didn’t make sense considering you had plans to avoid him.

you didn’t want to make things worse than they were. but for some reason he was the only thing on your mind, to the point it was becoming an issue as you tried to go about your work.

not once in your career had you been pulled up on anything, so when carlos questioned if you were okay friday afternoon ━ claiming you had been slacking, you knew you were fucked.

there’s no way you felt the same. surely not.

you had to stand by what you said. it’d be weird?

he was lando. annoying lando who couldn’t grow a speck of facial hair and flinched at the sight of fish.

except saturday, when you finally laid eyes on the driver again, it was cruel slap in the face of reality when you realised that was almost 5 years ago. you’d both changed. lando had changed.

you almost spiralled when you found yourself admiring the driver. had his mclaren top always been so tight around his biceps? had his skin always been so sun kissed? not to mention the way his curls sat atop his head.

you suddenly felt insane. you’d never looked at him in that light, never thought what if. but his confession had you a mess of thoughts, one’s you had to run away from. causing you to spend the rest of the weekend hidden away in ferrari’s hospitality.

you could only hide for so long, carlos had won ━ which was enough to get your mind off of the british driver for a whole 4 minutes until they were up on the podium together.

work was your priority however, but you couldn’t help but notice just how nicely lando photographs. you only ever focused on carlos, considering he paid your wage. but as you took shots and shots of the pair interacting before and after the podium from afar you couldn’t help but note how lando was practically glowing.

your head was a mess, and as you now stood in a random club in melbourne, you had no idea what your next move was.

you couldn’t exactly deny going out to celebrate when carlos had won. so your next wish was that lando simply wouldn’t be in attendance.

but he was, and your eyes hadn’t left him all night.

still having not spoken for days, you couldn’t shake the urge to congratulate him. yet for some reason you were scared, you didn’t trust yourself. fearing you’d say something you’d regret. which was a foreign feeling. lando was usually the easiest person for you to talk too.

however you could only stand in the corner with a drink as your only company for so long. a sudden wave of confidence washing over you, or more so desperation to stop being so childish, causing you to down your drink before setting off towards the british driver.

it was when you were only a few metres from him that you realised you should probably have a game plan, and if he hadn’t locked eyes with you there was a high chance you would’ve backed out. turned around and walked away.

instead you were left to improvise.

“good job today,” you smiled widely when you got into ear shot; unable to shake the tightness in your chest, feeling suddenly out of breath as if you had sprinted over here.

lando appeared much more relaxed than he had last time you spoke. which made sense. he’d put it on the podium, why wouldn’t he be in a good mood?

“thank you,” the driver grinned, unable to be stumped when he was still running high off adrenaline. plus, he figured you would pretend the other evening never happened. which he would happily take.

your script ended there however. you had no idea what to say. or where to look, since when was eye contact with lando hard?

“impressive from carlos,” lando managed to fill the silence, and you could feel the relief at the fact he’d saved you from creating an awkward silence.

“yeah, yeah i know. very proud of him. i’ll never complain about pain again.” you spoke through a dry laugh; one he mirrored, your lips pursing as you attempted to think of something, anything, to fix the mess you found you guys in.

to apologise for your rudeness? to explain your mindset? to just talk. you needed to talk to him, for your own sanity.

“look i just wanted━” you finally built the courage up to speak, but were interrupted as a blonde woman slid next to lando’s side, handing him a drink while doing so.

it shouldn’t have shut you up so quickly, but it did ━ eyebrows raising as you attempted to figure out how to respond to the image in front of you. one you’d never seen before actually.

“line was long,” the girl hummed in explanation, and you only just caught lando’s sorry eyes as his attention turned to the girl next to him.

he would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the lifeline that was the blonde he’d just met 20 minutes ago. he did not need to hear your reasonings as to why you should just remain friends, not tonight.

“i’ll um, i’ll talk to you later.” there was no way you’d try get your words out again, not when you barely spoke up the first time. yet for some reason, you’d hoped lando had insisted you could speak now.

instead left to watch as he nodded and offered you a small smile; practically sending you off on your way.

embarrassment was the one word to describe how you felt as you made your way to the nearest booth, attempting to hide away and let the darkness swallow you whole.

apart of you felt you should be grateful, maybe being interrupted was a saving grace. god knows what you were about to say, you definitely didn’t. but right now you found yourself in the same position as you were 5 minutes ago.

it felt selfish. lando had practically admitted to having feelings for you, that’s what you gathered at least, and you’d been unaware for years.

you’d been slightly uncertain in your feelings for five days and you felt as if you were losing your mind. you had no right for an explanation really, but you needed something. attempting to decipher everything to do with the main man of mclaren was giving you a headache.

although your vision became a bit clearer as you sat and watched him interact with the girl who’d placed the drink in his hands.

it suddenly made sense why you hadn’t seen him like this before. his attention was always on you, his efforts and time focused towards you if you were in arms reach.

which you couldn’t help but feel grateful for as you sat and watched your new personal hell.

you didn’t want to label it as jealousy. because that would be ridiculous, but it was beginning to be hard to watch the way lando whispered in her ear and grinned widely as he earned a laugh or two from the girl.

were you mad at the sight or mad at your own reaction? you weren’t sure. it felt wrong, to feel so strongly when only a few days ago you’d laughed in his face about the prospect of being with him.

what was it they said about you only want what you can’t have?

“it should be illegal for you to be sitting here moping after i’ve won.” carlos’ voice snapped you from your thoughts, being met with the driver who slid into the booth opposite you, a sheepish smile forming on your features.

“i’m not moping.” you huffed, leaning back in your seat ━ attempting to look and feel relaxed, allow your tense shoulders to loosen, glancing back to lando once more before your attention was on the driver ahead of you.

“you have been all week.” carlos disagreed, eyebrow raising as you frowned; not having a reply because he was right. and suddenly you felt horrible.

“i’m sorry━ that’s the last thing you need with the couple weeks you’ve had,” you sighed, head falling into your hands. it was as if you suddenly couldn’t do anything right.

you missed the way carlos smiled, having looked at the direct reason of your problems moments prior.

“don’t apologise.” carlos dismissed, assuring you it was fine; and when you peaked up through your hands, the smile he was flashing you was enough to put your mind at ease. “i’m assuming lando said something.”

there it was. lando. again. back in your head. as if you ever got him out.

you only sighed, head falling back this time as you now stared at the ceiling. of course carlos knew.

“you knew?” you huffed out, it clear you already knew the answer.

“everyone does.” carlos chuckled, and you wish you too could take amusement from the situation. how comforting, this whole time you’ve either appeared as an idiot or the biggest bitch.

“why wouldn’t you tell me?” you practically whined, looking back at the driver once more; watching as he put his hands up in defence and innocence.

“i thought you knew.” carlos claimed, sounding so honest you couldn’t question him ━ nor blame him. you shouldn’t have needed someone to spell it out for you. plus, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if you did know.

because it wasn’t like you were handling the current situation very well.

you had no answer, just left him to watch as you sat wallowing in self pity. you should’ve never chased him to the bar.

“he’ll be fine. look at him, moving on already,” carlos attempt to comfort you was more like a punch to the stomach ━ because you had to stop yourself from glaring at him. had to stop yourself from spitting out how that wasn’t what you wanted.

you didn’t want that at all, and that thought was suffocating. you were in no place to come to terms with your feelings, but right now they seemed to be demanding to make themselves known.

“i need air.” you huffed as you stood up, thankful that you had taken notice of the smokers exit not too far from you.

the crisp air felt like a soothing blanket, hitting your skin the moment you got outside. the balcony was empty and finally you felt as if you could breathe; allowing your arms to rest against the railing as the music became muffled and the sound of melbourne’s night life filled your ears.

it felt stupid, staring across the city skyline as if it would answer your questions. maybe the stars could align and write out a solution for you, tell you what to do.

but with every passing second you didn’t find any clarity or idea on what to do, how to feel. you shouldn’t want him. you haven’t wanted him before. it isn’t fair to suddenly feel so drawn to him after unknowingly rejecting him for so long.

but it was the reality. you’d been exposed to the idea of lando wanting you; and with every passing moment it became clear to you it wasn’t weird. it sounded fucking incredible.

the music suddenly filled your ears again, moments later becoming muffled as you became aware someone had joined you outside. it wasn’t till they spoke that you tensed up.

“it’s cold out here,” his voice was instantly recognisable, you didn’t need to look at him to know it was him.

“too hot in there.” you hummed simply in reply, feeling his presence next to you as he joined you in observing the city skyline; although you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

falling into a comfortable silence was the last thing you expected, both too scared to speak up and face the inevitable. if you could stay like this forever you would. it was the first few moments of peace you’d known all week.

“we can pretend the other night never happened. i don’t want things to be weird.” lando spoke, words so soft as if you’d break. as if he needed to be careful with you.

his whole demeanour had you frowning, turning to face him. he shouldn’t be fixing this mess, nor prioritising your feelings over his. not when both of you had neglected his for so long.

you parted your lips to disagree, to tell him that was the last thing you wanted. you wanted to talk about it. it’s all you needed to do.

but quickly you realised that was contradicting your initial thoughts.

“if that’s what you want,” you spoke through a breath; unable to understand how you still couldn’t find the right thing to say when this very conversation has been the only thing on your mind all week.

it was lando’s turn to stay quiet, you watched as he thought through what to say; practically seeing his mind tick.

“i just want to know why it’s so ridiculous to you.” lando practically blurted the question out, as if he was almost afraid he wouldn’t say it ever if he didn’t now. it’d been weighing on his mind, it killed him that he had no explanation as to why you were so against the idea of him in anyway that branched further than platonic.

and while you wanted to give him an answer, you didn’t have one.

“i don’t know.” you answered truthfully. “i never looked at you that way lando i…” you trailed off, eyes getting lost in his when you realised just how close he was. your admiration these past couple days from afar was one thing; but up close was a whole new ball park. “you were like this little kid, i don’t know,” you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

“yeah five years ago,” lando’s response was quick and blunt; even with the chuckle that escaped under his breath, it didn’t lessen the intensity in his eyes that were now pouring into yours. it was as if he’d been wanting to say such thing for years. he was challenging you.

you’d gulped at his words, because he was right and you’d only come to terms with such thing these past few days.

“yeah.” you mumbled in agreement, suddenly feeling small under his gaze; it was all so new. you’d been in this position with lando countless of times, why did you suddenly feel as if every nerve inside of you was being set alight? why did you feel as if you couldn’t dare look away from his eyes.

you could spot the moment lando realised the change in your behaviour, the way his eyes flickered across your face; his lips parting ever so slightly as he took a breath.

he recognised the look on your face, purely because it’s how he would always look at you.

“it fucking sucked you know? having to sit there while you laugh at the idea of spending the night with me. even just going on a date with me.” lando hummed, voice barely above the whisper because with the minimal distance he didn’t need to speak any louder. although if he spoke any quieter you’d be worried you wouldn’t hear him over the sound of your rapid heartbeat.

you didn’t know what to say, head tilting aside ever so slightly as you watched him take a step closer; dangerously close now yet for some reason you found yourself leaning further towards his frame ━ and the moment you let your eyes flicker to his lips you knew you were done for.

“m’ sorry,” you mumbled; eyes pouring into his once more as if that would ensure he knew you meant it, but he didn’t want nor need an apology. but god would he love an opportunity to change your mind.

it was as if you could act without thinking again the moment his hand cupped your cheek, lips pressed onto yours in a rush that had your hand moving to find a grip in his shirt.

you didn’t know how to describe it, but suddenly everything made sense as your lips moved together in perfect sync.

the moment almost came crumbling down however when lando pulled away only a few moments later, heavy breaths as his hand remained on your cheek; eyes looking down at you as if you were gods greatest gift to earth.

but as much as this felt like heaven, lando knew he couldn’t risk this just being a one time thing. he refused to get a taste of you just to be starved again.

“if you don’t━” lando barely got his words out, you had him read; could see the doubt beginning to creep in. as much as he hated being vulnerable it was almost self perseveration.

thankfully however you didn’t give him much time to worry, shaking your head before tugging him closer to you ━ reconnecting your lips with such certainty lando had no room to fear or doubt you.

it was all he needed, the lid was off and he finally could act on his wants ━ hands moving to grip your waist as he trapped you between himself and the railing, lips moving against yours without a care in the world that anyone could walk out and see.

it was as if the kiss was the answer to all your questions, suddenly it all made sense. lando made sense; you felt stupid, how had you denied yourself of such thing for so long?

your hands were tangled in his hair, his were clutching your sides for dear life ━ large hands pawing at your waist then your hips, having to stop himself from getting too greedy and travelling any further.

so caught up in him you quickly realised you needed to breathe, pulling away momentarily; yet you had no time to recover as lando only busied himself with peppering kisses on your jaw.

naturally you tilted your head back, a sigh of content escaping you as you invited him to explore more of you. and lando was not going to ignore such thing, soft kisses now pressed to the skin of your neck.

suddenly you were incredibly aware of the closeness, the way his body was pressed against yours; the cold railing behind you doing little to cool your hot skin; his knee pressing between your thighs having your eyes fluttering shut.

heaven was the only way to describe it.

but really you were on the smokers balcony of a crowded melbourne club, a reality that hit the pair of you as the door swung open and laughter and chatter was suddenly heard.

your eyes flickered to the group who appeared, lando regrettably lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. the group was unbothered by your presence, you weren’t sure the pair of you were even noticed.

lando’s grip had tightened on your waist ever so slightly, as if you could slip away from him like the moment had.

“we should get out of here,” you spoke through heavy breaths as your eyes met his, watching as his lit up with both relief and eagerness. he only nodded, taking a step backwards as his hands ran over his now crinkled shirt.

the pair of you may had gotten yourselves together in those few seconds, but as you worked your way through the crowded club towards the exit, it was quite clear what had occurred.

the elevator ride only caused swollen lips and messy hair, and you struggled to keep your hands off of him once in the back of a taxi ━ kissing him was addictive, that’s the only thing you could think of right now.

the silence wasn’t awkward as you stumbled into his hotel room; only the sounds of quiet laughter as he struggled to find his room key. small curses escaping his mouth as he failed to move in the urgency he was currently feeling.

it was messy the way you both discarded your shoes and belongings, a few words and mumbles exchanged before he was tugging you into his chest again ━ lips once more reconnected.

the space allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck this time, body practically melting into his hold. you wanted to apologise again, explain your thoughts over the last few days, how your change of heart had occurred.

you weren’t even sure it was a change of heart; more so just now thinking about new possibilities.

but lando seemed to be the thing that could put those thoughts at bay, finally your mind was silent ━ all senses consumed with the man in front of you.

you weren’t sure which wall he’d backed you against but you didn’t care; welcoming the familiar feeling of his lips on your neck once more ━ taking the few seconds of your brain not being foggy to tug on the end of his shirt before trying to push it up his body.

he got the memo, ridding himself of his shirt and you could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of his toned torso.

“what do you want?” lando’s question was matched with an intensity that almost had you squirming, his knee pushing between your thighs once more as you peered up at him.

you were suddenly lost for words, unsure how to vocalise what you wanted.

him. just him. anything he had to offer.

the feeling of his finger running up the side of your leg gave you plenty of ideas; but you were too flustered to articulate such thing.

the sight of you dumbfounded had him letting out a breathy chuckle, eyebrows raising in expectance ━ yet somehow it just had you squeezing your legs together.

“anything.” you mumbled, cheeks a tint of pink as he only smirked at your answer; you hadn’t realised how desperate you sounded. you weren’t sure you’ve ever sounded so needy.

“gotta be more specific pretty,” his grin told you he was revelling in your flustered state. how could he not? his mind was running wild with plans to have you a needy mess all for him.

the term of endearment was new, a boundary that had never been crossed in your friendship; yet it sounded so natural. what wasn’t natural was the way your heart seemed to flutter at the compliment.

“want me to touch you?” lando was almost mocking you as his hand moved to push your hair back out of your face, cupping the side of your head while doing so to ensure your eyes stayed trained on him ━ and the mere act had you falling further into submission.

it was pathetic, you were somehow able to identify such thing ━ standing here with parted lips and wide eyes, having nodded at his words almost too eagerly. you needed to control yourself, at least for now; he’d barely touched you yet.

“what do you want?” your words were no where near as confident as his, but you weren’t complaining; the confidence suited him, it only had you wanting him more.

you watched as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, attempting to keep your mind off his finger that was dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

“want to ruin you so you’ll only ever think of me if another man touches you.” lando was honest with his answer, you hadn’t expected such words to escape his mouth. such bluntness, what sounded like a promise had your knees feeling weak ━ the idea sounding perfect to you.

but he wasn’t finished.

“want you to cum on my fingers.” he added quietly, your legs spreading ever so slightly as his hand finally ventured under your skirt. “then my tongue,” he practically chimed; head ducking down to your neck now, his hot breath fanning your skin.

thinking was only getting harder, his words were turning your mind into a puddle, much like the state of your undergarments.

“then my cock.” he concluded before paying extra attention to the skin on your neck, kissing intently as you let out a shaky breath.

attempting to process such words from him was difficult, but you were quick to figure out it sounded incredible to you.

“hm?” his hum was a taunt, head lifting to look at you once more, watching as you nodded quickly.

“please,” you practically whimpered, god you’d get on your knees and beg. lando almost groaned from the word leaving your lips alone, the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes had a grin forming on his face, one you mirrored for a brief moment.

the man couldn’t believe his eyes, a sight he’d dream of too many times was in front of him in the flesh and he wanted nothing more but to make sure you too would never forget these moments.

his lips returning to yours almost had you failing to notice the way his hand slipped under your skirt, finding your soaked panties with ease. he groaned into your mouth as he realised how wet you were, your only reply a slight tug on his curls.

light and teasing touches were only tolerable for so long, you could deal with his fingers dancing around your clothed folds while his lips stayed on yours ━ but when he pulled away your breaths became irregular, clinging to every ounce of patience you had.

you were about to whine when his hand pushed your panties to the side, slipping a digit inside of you without warning was enough to have you choking out a moan ━ hand flying to grip his bicep to ensure your legs wouldn’t give out on you.

lando was watching you as if you were gods gift to the earth, thumb settling on your clit naturally that within seconds of him getting to work your eyes were fluttering shut ━ head falling back against the wall.

“you’re soaked baby,” his words were barely audible; too in awe of you, but you still managed to catch them as you nodded ever so slightly.

“for you,” you breathed out ━ not that it needed clarifying, but the reassurance had the driver smirking proudly, even rewarding you as suddenly a second finger slipped inside of you.

for him. lando would never had thought that would ever be possible. if he wasn’t so focused on getting you off he’d be replaying those words in his mind again, and again.

suddenly it was becoming hard to keep quiet, strings of moans and whimpers escaping you in succession, causing lando’s pants to feel incredibly tight. but that was the last thing on his mind, holding you against the wall with the only goal of having you come undone in his grasp.

his name sounded heavenly as you moaned it, so much so lando thought no one else should ever speak it again ━ nothing would compare to that.

“look at me.” lando’s demand was so calm you almost missed it, eyes still fluttered shut as your thighs squeezed around his hand. despite hearing him you couldn’t act, control of your body slipping away ever so quickly with the way his thumb was circling your sensitive bud.

lando’s breathy laugh wasn’t enough to capture your attention either, his touch was all your mind could focus on. so it was when his free large hand trailed up your body to wrap around your neck that your eyes fluttered open.

his eyes were inquisitive, clearly attempting to gage a reaction to the action which had your lips parting despite having no pressure applied. however it was the way you clenched around his fingers that told him enough.

the slight squeeze of your neck was enough to draw a moan out of you, and lando could only hum in content. you were fucking perfect.

it was quickly becoming overwhelming, pleasure suddenly building so quickly ━ eyes pouring into his as you struggled to form words.

“close,” was all you managed out; lando’s nod was in sync with his curled fingers ━ your nails digging into his skin as he brushed the spot that had your legs almost giving out.

you were holding onto him for dear life, moans growing louder and whinier as your vision started to become starry despite having your eyes open.

“let go baby,” his words were enough to push you over the edge, releasing onto his fingers as you practically panted his name like it was a prayer.

lando had concluded a long time ago that he couldn’t fall for you more than he already had; but as he watched you come undone, he realised he’d been wrong. your beauty truly knew no ends ━ and he was only now more eager to watch your face contort in pleasure again and again.

admiration filled your own eyes as they opened once more to peer up at him, flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile spreading on your face as you attempted to catch your breath.

“you’re incredible,” lando couldn’t stop the praise from escaping him, and watching the way your smile grew had him feeling no regret either; no shame like he usually would when a compliment perhaps too sentimental slipped passed his guard.

however this time it was reciprocated, you could see the meaning behind it ━ not dismissing it as a friendly comment, instead it had your already flushed cheeks reddening further.

“you are.” you spoke like it was obvious, even letting out a small giggle ━ sounding somewhat out of breath but such thing was granted. your arms moved to wrap around his neck again, both to ensure he stayed close and because your only strength was in your arms.

your legs already felt like jelly.

he’d read the situation with ease, because suddenly his hands were hooked under your thighs ━ halting you up as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.

your skirt was bunched at your hips, ruined panties almost shameful. your hands spread out against his toned back, unable to help yourself from feeling as much of his flexed muscles as possible.

messy kisses were exchanged as he moved you through the hotel room, lips lazily moving against each other before your back was hitting his plush mattress.

the sight above you rendered you speechless, no shame in your eyes raking over his frame as he stood at the foot of the bed ━ you quickly felt overdressed.

your own hands found the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, no bra meaning your upper body was exposed to the brit.

you could visibly see him gulp, his eyes dancing over your half naked frame as he took a few deep breaths; tongue flicking over his bottom lip. the man even shook his head in disbelief, unable to help himself when you invitingly leant back on your elbows.

he was on top of you within moments, situating between your spread legs as his head found the exposed skin of your chest, open mouth kisses pressed to your neck, slowly making their way to your breasts.

“you’re fucking beautiful.” he’d practically grumbled, your fingers finding his curls once more you could only whimper as his teeth tugged on your skin momentarily.

“want to make you feel good,” you whispered, unable to ignore his hard on pressing into your hip ━ the feeling had you squirming, keen to feel more of him.

he’d shushed you however, not being derailed as his kisses moved to your stomach now, your head hitting the pillow as you tried to control your breathing ━ left to stare up at the ceiling momentarily.

“i feel amazing,” lando spoke matter of factly, his hands spreading over your thighs as he parted them to his liking ━ your eyes flickering down, not expecting to meet his blue ones.

he looked like he was ready to devour you, it made your core practically ache ━ offered no relief as your legs could only squeeze against his hold.

he was quick in removing your skirt, and your panties ━ having you bare for him before he was hooking your legs over his shoulders. but his urgency seemed to still there, kisses pressed to your inner thighs instead of your glistening cunt.

“lando,” you’d whined, using all your strength to ensure you could keep your eyes on him, a pretty sight that was rendering you impatient. “please,” the plea left you in desperation.

you could still feel his breath on your thighs, not where you needed him, and when you heard him chuckle lowly your eyes had to press shut to keep your composure.

“oh baby,” he dragged out; cooing so sweetly your eyes narrowed when they met his again. “needy little thing,” he commented; quirking an eyebrow your way and you couldn’t argue, only pout.

he wasn’t wrong, much to your surprise. you’d never found yourself in such position, needing and craving someone so badly. depending on someone else for pleasure was practically foreign.

“not gonna make you beg,” lando ended your torture, if you could even call it that, mouth connecting with your cunt and your jaw dropped as his tongue quickly found your clit.

you were already sensitive, back arching immediately as you moaned out softly ━ hands flying to find his curls again.

pure ecstasy was the only way to describe the feeling, his tongue working so perfectly that you were fighting to not press your thighs against his head ━ body moving with every action, his hand moving to press down on your hips and keep you in place.

your eyes caught his own for a mere few moments, seeing him look up at you however had your own eyes rolling back; too sensitive to stay cool with the onslaught of pleasure.

he was everywhere, consuming every one of your senses ━ tugging on his curls your only outlet as you moaned and shook.

you weren’t ever sure you’d be able to cum from head alone, but you were about to find out ━ pathetically close already, stomach tightening having barely recovered from your first orgasm.

you forced yourself to gaze down at him again, wanting to see his head between your thighs ━ watch the way his arms flexed as he held you in place with ease.

his tongue was flicking between your folds, then paying attention to your clit; never missing a beat, it flood over you suddenly.

you could no longer hear the sounds you were making as you came again, back arching off the bed once more ━ seeing stars, lando sure to catch the sight as you came undone for him again.

it was a blur the next few moments, not present as lando shifted your legs off of his shoulders and back onto his knees, but once you realised the sight in front of you it didn’t take long for you to push yourself up the bed so you were sitting up.

“you good?” lando’s voice was soft now, ensuring you were okay; not oblivious to your tired body. you nodded however, a lazy smile spreading on your lips in reassurance, hooded eyes taking him all in. you just wanted to feel all of him.

“perfect,” you breathed, leaning forward to connect your lips without another word. it was greedy, a few moments of no contact and you were drawn to him again. you just wanted more and more, and the way lando’s hands flied to your waist showed it was truly reciprocated.

you pushed him slightly to sit down, switching positions so he was resting against the headboard now ━ it didn’t take much force, he was letting you guide him, hands delicately roaming your fatigued frame.

climbing into his lap your hands made quick work of his pants, unzipping them and moving all material out of the way to finally free his hardened cock.

lando moaned into your mouth the moment your hand wrapped around his length, pumping a few times was the relief he’d been ignoring since you entered the hotel room.

he struggled to kiss back for a mere moment, causing your eyes to flutter open, lips curving upwards at the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.

fuck you could get used to that image.

“come on baby,” lando rasped out as his hands found a home on your hips ━ guiding them upwards ever so slightly. “fuck yourself on my cock yeah?” there was a slight smugness in his tone; the type that had you falling into submission once more, despite him vocalising your plans.

your arms moved to hold onto his shoulders, enough to help steady you as you guided your hips on top of his, lowering yourself down onto his cock.

the pair of you gasped in sync, your forehead resting against his as you took him all in at once, jaw going slack from the stretch.

you stilled, needing time to adjust to his size ━ and lando had no complaints, the feeling of you wrapped around him having him content.

“you feel fucking incredible,” the driver rasped, lips brushing against yours as he spoke; and you could only whimper at first, a few deep breaths escaping you.

“so big,” you mumbled; having to swallow intently before mustering the energy to begin moving ━ eyes pouring into his as you began to ride him.

the closeness and intimacy would usually scare you; heck, it would normally terrify him. yet somehow it felt right, as if this wasn’t the first time between the pair of you.

your nails dug into his skin once more as you shifted up and down, lando’s hands only on your skin to ensure he had a hold on you ━ letting you set the pace as he watched, jaw tense and eyes adoring.

“fuck lando,” you whined when he’d bottom out once more, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your toes were curling ━ the sound of his own grunts and moans only adding to the pleasure.

“doing so good for me gorgeous,” his praise only encouraged you, words so delicate. you sped up as much as you could, not too fast but with more urgency than before; as much as your sore body would allow.

it wasn’t long before you started to tire, your moans grew whinier but you didn’t need to say anything ━ a choked moan escaping your throat when his hips suddenly thrusted up to meet your movements.

you hadn’t thought you could feel more full but you were wrong, and lando didn’t relent as he started fucking up into you.

you were like a doll in his hands, as he started to practically move you up and down his cock; his own hips continuing to thrust up you couldn’t keep up, eyes screwing shut as your mouth fell agape.

“fuck lando fuck,” you were practically chanting; a string of curses and his name; it all felt too good. fucking perfect, you couldn’t comprehend any of it.

“take it baby.” he grunted, and you nodded so quickly as if you’d ever disappoint him, fingers reaching to his back and nails dragging across the skin ━ his thrusts harsh, not slow but not too quick that you wouldn’t have time to feel every inch of him.

your head was thrown back, exposing your bare chest further to him ━ which lando made the most of for the time being, lips ducking down and attaching to one of your nipples for a few moments.

but as your sounds got louder he needed to be able to see your face clearly, hand moving up your back and tangling in your hair to force you to look at him.

“open your eyes princess,” he practically demanded, and at this point you’d do anything he said without question; eyes fluttering open to look at him.

his stamina was impressive, not surprising, still bouncing you on his cock as if it was nothing ━ but the way his breaths got shaky and his hooded eyes revealed he was feeling the pleasure like you were.

“who’s making you feel this good?” lando’s question escaped him without much thought; he just needed to hear you say it. wanted to revel in the fact he had you in such a state. your praise and reassurance held such a high value to him.

“you, lando, you,” you whined out in response ━ and you felt his hand move back to your hip, needing to use your own strength now to keep your head upright. “feels so good,” you told him ━ squeezing him as you did so.

he’d groaned at the feeling, almost having cum on the spot; thankfully he didn’t, because he needed to see you fall apart one more time.

“want to cum again yeah? that you want?” his mouth seemed to know no ends, the taunting only making your stomach grow tighter as you nodded to the best of your ability.

his breaths were heavy now, hands travelling to your ass as he used that as his grip of your body instead.

“wanna hear you say it,” lando grumbled ━ head ducking into the exposed skin of your neck, more kisses pressed onto your skin and the thought of marks being there from the amount of attention he’d paid to it was the last thing on either of your minds.

you were struggling now, too fucked out to process his words as quickly as he’d like ━ so much so a harsher thrust upwards had you aware you needed to answer him, yet you already forgot what he said.

“too fucked out to form words baby?” lando teased now that he knew he had your attention; and he chuckled once more when you shook your head quickly. “want to hear you say it.” he repeated, eyes piercing yours.

“wanna’ cum again,” your words were laced with desperation, needing to take a breath between sentences as his cock spread you open. “please let me cum,”

the british driver’s hum of satisfaction turned into a moan of pleasure at your plea, sounding and looking so pretty for him, it was clear you’d done enough as you felt his hand snake down between your bodies to your clit.

your vision went white practically immediately, almost yelping from how sensitive you were; thrown over the edge with little warm as you came on his dick ━ practically screaming his name as you did so.

lando came inside you merely a few seconds later, jaw slack from the sight of you and the way your walls squeezed him once more ━ only now was his thrusts sloppy as you both rode out your highs.

you were practically limp in his lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder as his own head rested against the headboard; heavy and irregular breaths filling the silence.

his hand moved to your head, fingers running through the strands of your hair comfortingly, the action causing you to hum in appreciation.

both of you were content with the silence, purely because neither of you knew exactly what to say. what to do. this was unexpected, to say the least.

you sat up straight after a couple minutes however, eyes meeting his ones; noticing the lack of intensity and confidence they held prior.

he was studying you as well, attempting to not spiral into a ‘what now.’

this meant a lot to him, he wouldn’t put that on you ━ that wouldn’t be fair. but you already had a good idea.

“i was wrong.” you finally managed to say what had been on the tip of your tongue, offering a small smile as his eyebrows raised in question.

he didn’t fully understand.

“about this. us. not making sense. being ridiculous.” you clarified, and the realisation washed over his features. you could feel him tense up slightly beneath you ━ shaking his head quickly.

“we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he assured in certainty. he didn’t want you to feel obligated to protect his feelings because you slept together.

which you appreciated, it was cute. he was thoughtful ━ which shouldn’t be a surprise.

“i’m not promising anything,” you clarified, dismissing him this time; you didn’t feel obligated at all. you weren’t saying you’d be his girlfriend and expected flowers when you woke up, but you needed him to know you no longer stood by what you said. you were also relieved to be able to articulate your thoughts. “but i was wrong.” you hummed.

a lazy smile spread on his features at that, acting like a catalyst for your own. a mumble of an okay and laughter was exchanged, before his lips were on yours again; a gentle kiss this time.

one you could certainly get used too.

━━

a/n: 615 days later and i’ve finally finished another fic. hope y’all r still there 😀😀

incredibly sorry for my inactivity and special shout out to everyone who has continued to support me despite the radio silence??? i love u

anyways i don’t love this but the fact i had the motivation to see it through was enough. hoping it’ll ease me back into writing and getting back up to standard, so apologises that it’s a little rusty 🫶🏼🫶🏼

what hasn’t changed is that it’s currently unedited and the ending is rushed hehe

as always feedback is always very much appreciated love u all mwahhh xoxo

[domjaehyun]

the need to know (l.dh) — part three

PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader  GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, part three has 7.9k SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. tada!! here’s the third and final part! it’s a lot shorter than the other two because logically it made sense to split them up like this 😁 i hope you enjoy!! your positive feedback is always appreciated 💖 thank you for reading!!

READ PART ONE HERE. — READ PART TWO HERE.

Later in the week, you’re lying cozy on the couch, scrolling through Twitter, when you’re suddenly reminded that you and your friends had plans for later today. You switch over to your Messages group chat and shoot off a quick text to put out feelers to see if everyone’s still free.

you [15:02pm] hii y’all are we still on for pottery today? chuu chuu train [15:03pm] um….. no actually 😟 i got called in for a shift at the hospital last minute mark [15:07pm] this girl at my job asked me to get drinks with her… she’s really cute… jeno [15:10pm] go get her mark 😎 i have a new client today and this was the only time she had free for her consultation :/ jaemin [15:12pm] i’m technically still free but like . kinda think i’m coming down with something you [15:14pm] sigh why must you all let me down like this 😞 renjun [15:16pm] why are you all blowing up my phone 🤨 cut it out you disliked “why are you all blowing up my phone 🤨 cut it out” you [15:17pm] okay cranky pants… you signed up to be friends with us chuu chuu train [15:19pm] yeah this gc isn’t called “the platonic polycule” for nothing!!! chuu chuu train [15:19pm] now can you make it to pottery today?   renjun [15:17pm] no i can’t sorry 😕 like i’m free but i have a design for a site due by the end of tonight and i haven’t finished… you [15:20pm] brb entering the deepest of depressions

You knock three times on Jihyo’s door, waiting for her to reply before flinging her door open with a wail. “Jihyo, everyone’s bailing!”

“I saw,” she says sympathetically.

“Only ones going are you, me, and Haechan.” you lament, collapsing onto her bed.

“Well, if that’s the case,” she says thoughtfully, “I’m not going, either.”

“What?!” you exclaim, looking up at her with an incredulous expression.

“You think I want to sit there and third-wheel whatever it is you two have going on?” she chuckles, stroking your hair soothingly. “Take it as an opportunity to do more of… whatever you two call your arrangement.”

“You’re… well, I can’t decide if I want to thank you or hit you with a pillow.” you sigh dejectedly, and she chuckles understandingly.

you [15:30pm] haechan please say you’re going… jihyo just bailed (verbally) and now i’m all alone 😞 haechan [15:32pm] my schedule’s all free for you 😌 you loved “my schedule’s all free for you 😌” you [15:33pm] AND THAT IS HOW TO BE A RELIABLE FRIEND, EVERYONE. TAKE NOTES!!!! you [15:34pm] anyway that concludes this conversation. everyone but haechan is in the dog house until further notice. farewell

You lock your phone and look up at Jihyo with a small smile. “You’re not in the dog house.” you inform her, and she smiles, running her fingers through your hair.

“Thank you for that. Want help picking out your outfit for your little pottery date with Haechan?” she offers, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly.

“It’s not a date,” you stress, sitting up. “It’s two friends hanging out and making pottery together.”

“Okay, do you want help picking out an outfit to look super duper cute for your date that’s totally not a date?” she amends with a sly grin, and you scowl, deciding to hit her with a pillow after all. “Hey!”

“That’s for teasing me.” you huff, setting the pillow back down. “But yes, I would like help.”

“Expecting help after you assaulted me is beyond crazy, by the way.”

“Please?” you plead, giving her your best puppy dog eyes, and she sighs in defeat, closing her laptop and flinging her covers off her legs.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

“Are you nervous?” you ask as you two walk up to the building your pottery class is in, and Haechan shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Of course not,” he replies confidently. “I’m good with my hands; you should know that.”

“I don’t think this activity requires the exact same skill set as the one you’re talking about, but okay.” you say with an amused expression, and he shrugs.

“I’m a fast learner.”

As it turns out, Haechan is not, in fact, as fast of a learner as he thought he was.

You giggle to yourself as you watch him struggle to make a decent looking pinch pot. “I thought you were good with your hands?” you tease as you smooth out the thumbprints in your own surprisingly pretty pinch pot, and he frowns in your direction.

“Apparently, my hands’ skills are best applied elsewhere.” he huffs, much to your amusement.

“Evidently,” you remark, smiling to yourself. “Do you want help?” you ask, and he shakes his head. 

“No… I’m hoping I have better luck when we start using the wheel.” he answers, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Okay… well, good luck with that.” you say, returning your attention to your work as you diligently make the rim of the bowl even and level.

After some time, you’re all instructed to switch to throwing on the wheel, and you’re surprised to find that it comes naturally to you, your hands sculpting a lovely bowl with a wide mouth. 

“Haechan, are you sure you don’t need help?” you offer again as you see him accidentally dig his thumb into his pot too harshly, resulting in an uneven, deep dent going around half of the bowl.

“Maybe a little assistance would be nice,” he admits in defeat, and you smile, turning off your wheel and coming to stand behind him.

“I’m gonna show you how to do it, okay?” you say softly, taking his clay covered hands in your own and guiding them to the clay on his wheel. “Wanna start over?” 

“Yeah,” he sighs, pouting, and you nod, moving to sit behind him. You rest your chin on his shoulder as you guide his hands through reverting his misshapen bowl into an even mound of clay.

“Wet your hands a little bit,” you explain, gesturing to the bowl of grayish water beside his wheel. “It’ll help you manipulate the clay better.” He dips his hands in the water, shaking them off slightly before returning his hands to the clay, tentatively placing his hands on either side of the clay. 

“Spread it out like this,” you say gently, showing him how to use his thumbs to carefully widen the surface area of the clay. “Keep your palms close like a guide for how wide you want it to get.”

“Mhm,” he hums distractedly, brows furrowed in concentration, and you help him shape the base of the bowl he’s making, forming a sort of stout cylinder of clay. 

“Good,” you encourage him, and he cracks a shy smile at the compliment, turning his head slightly to look at you. “Pay attention to what you’re doing.”

He sighs loudly, momentarily attracting the attention of some other students, but he relents, turning his head back to focus on his bowl.

“Next, you’re gonna make a small dent with your thumb in the center of the clay, and we’re gonna slowly drag the dent outwards with our thumbs to deepen and open up the mouth of the bowl.” you say next, and he nods, tongue poking out slightly as he tries to do what you’re asking him to do. “Carefully,” you remind him, guiding his thumbs as he methodically opens up the dent he made, his bowl now looking much better than before.

“Hey, it’s working!” he says excitedly, and you smile fondly, nodding. You hesitate before your next action, but decide to follow through with it anyway, turning your face in towards him to peck him gently on the cheek. He takes his hands off the wheel abruptly, turning his face towards yours as he searches your eyes with curiosity. “You kissed me.”

“I did,” you confirm, wishing he wouldn’t make such a big deal of it.

“What was that for?” he asks curiously, and you give a small shrug.

“A reward for doing a good job? And incentive to keep doing a good job.”

“So… if I make a pretty bowl, I can get another kiss?”

“Perhaps.”

“On the lips?”

“Don’t push it.” you say, rolling your eyes with an amused smile.

“Fine,” he relents, pouting slightly. “Hey, have you seen that movie, Ghost?”

“With Jennifer Love Hewitt?” you ask, and he nods. “I haven’t, but I’m pretty sure I know where you’re going with this.”

“The pottery scene?” he questions, testing you, and you nod with a smile. “Can we?”

You pause, thinking about it, before you nod. “Sure.”

He bounces in his seat excitedly before he refocuses his attention on his bowl, practically vibrating with excitement as your hands close in over his. 

Wordlessly, you help him shape his bowl, deepening the inside and lengthening the body. Your hands glide together smoothly and you’re so focused on doing a good job that it takes you ages to realize that Haechan isn’t even looking at the bowl anymore, his gaze now focused entirely on you with a mix of wonder and fascination on his face.

“Please pay attention before you distract me too and we fuck this bowl up.” you say with a small, amused smile, and he shakes his head.

“I think I need more incentive.” he states, and you look at him with a slight roll of your eyes.

“Just say you want me to kiss you again.”

“Okay, I want you to kiss me again.”

“No. Focus on the bowl.”

“What?! You just told me to say I want another kiss.” he complains, frowning.

“I didn’t say I was going to give you one. I just wanted you to be upfront about what you want.”

“I want a kiss,” he says, stubbornness creeping into his voice, and you sigh. 

“If I give you a kiss, will you focus?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he agrees, nodding to seal his promise, and you purse your lips thoughtfully as you think it over.

“Okay.” you say finally, and he beams at you before removing his hands from the wheel entirely and turning in his seat to face you. You lean in, Haechan moving with you, and connect your lips in a sweet kiss.

He hums, pleased, and moves to cup your cheek before you grab his wrist and set it down on his lap.

“You have clay all over your hands, and I don’t think that’d look too good on my face.” you murmur against his lips as you two part, and he laughs, the sound surprisingly sheepish for him.

“Sorry, I forgot.” he chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Thanks for the kiss, baby.”

“You’re welcome. You think we can finish the bowl now?”

“I think your kiss gave me enough strength to push through and finish strong.” he remarks with a cheeky grin, and you snort.

“That is so dramatic. You’re lucky you’re cute.” you huff, and he beams at you.

“Sure am.”

By the time you two make it back to your front door, the sun is starting to set, streaks of orange, gold, and a beautiful shade of rose filtering in through the window in your hallway.

“I had a really fun time today,” Haechan says, looping his pinky around yours and swinging your hands back and forth.

“Me too,” you agree, smiling. “Are you gonna tell me what you painted at the bottom of your bowl now?”

“Nope,” he replies with a grin. When you pout, he coos fondly, mirroring your expression. “You’ll see when they’re finished and we go to pick them up.”

“Fine,” you huff. “Hey, do you… maybe want to come in? Jihyo and Jiwoo are still out.” you ask, nibbling your bottom lip nervously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he admits with a sheepish grin, and a relieved smile overtakes your face as you unlock your front door and lead him inside.

“So, you’re telling me you’re not even the slightest bit curious what a parallel universe might look like for you?” you ask incredulously.

“Oh, I’m definitely curious,” he replies. “I just can’t imagine wanting to live in that reality.”

“Really? What if in your parallel universe you were a hot shot musician?” 

“Still no.” 

“You’re insane,” you gasp, and he chuckles softly, the look in his eyes incredibly raw and vulnerable, and you find yourself scrambling over your words in an attempt to protect the quivering heart Haechan’s presenting to you in his gaze. “Well—why this universe, hm? Why, out of all the universes you could be a part of, do you want this one?”

“I wouldn’t want to live in a parallel universe,” Haechan says slowly, “if it means I might not meet you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the gravity of his words weighing heavy in your heart, and now you think you understand the look he was giving you earlier. “Do you mean that?” you ask softly, and he nods, leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek.

“Every word, pretty.” he confirms, and you’re grateful you’re sitting down because you would have visibly swooned otherwise. 

“Jeez, Haechan, are you trying to woo me?” you joke softly, and he tilts your chin up with one finger, turning your head to face him.

“Mm, depends,” he sighs, brushing his lips against yours with a hint of a smile. “Is it working?”

“Not gonna lie? Yeah,” you murmur, smiling bashfully when he chuckles.

“Good,” he chuckles, kissing you softly. Like the others, this kiss ensnares your mind and body, but there’s a tenderness, a hesitance you don’t see from Haechan often. He molds his lips with yours slowly and sweetly, chasing after you when you pull back slightly for air before breaking the kiss and nuzzling your nose with his. “Hi,” he says softly, smiling shyly.

“Hi,” you giggle, kissing his nose lightly. He beams at you and leans in for another kiss, his hand gently resting on your knee. As you two kiss, his hand moves up gradually, pushing up the hem of your sundress until it’s bunched up your thigh just before your underwear.

His kisses grow in passion, in need, until he’s greedily kissing you as you run out of air and have to break the kiss with a gasp. “Let me kiss you,” he whines, clutching at your thigh as he leans in again.

“Let me breathe for a second,” you laugh, and he chuckles quietly.

“Sorry. You done breathing yet?” he asks, and you snort, bursting out into laughter. He joins you, tickled by your amusement, and when you manage to control yourselves, he sighs happily. “So—”

“Yes, I’m done breathing.” you say with a small roll of your eyes and a smile, and he grins, leaning in to kiss you again. 

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he wonders, and you shake your head. “I’m an idiot, then,” he continues, “because you look stunning.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask, and he nods firmly. 

“This little white and pink number you have on,” he murmurs, tugging at the strap on your shoulder until it slips off, “is driving me crazy.”

“Is it, now?” you hum, goading him on, and he nods again.

“It matches your cute little bow.” he points out, and you smile, pleased.

“It does,” you confirm, and he smiles before kissing you again. “You know what else it matches?”

“Mm, what, baby?” he mumbles against your lips.

“My underwear.” you answer, and he stills, looking at you with wonder and desire in his eyes.

“You’re joking,” he breathes, and you shake your head, smiling. “Let me see?” It’s phrased like a question, but it’s anything but if the way Haechan is already lifting your dress is any indication. “Please?” he adds almost as an afterthought, and you giggle, allowing him to pull your dress up enough to see your baby pink underwear. “Fuck,” he groans, his head falling into your lap, and you laugh as he presses his face between your legs, quickly maneuvering himself so your thighs are on either side of his body. He presses a loud kiss to the front of your underwear, then another slightly lower, and when his lips graze your clit through the fabric, you jolt, and he smiles. “You liked that?”

“A little,” you fib, and he nods in smug confirmation, leaning back down to press another kiss to the fabric over the seat of your underwear where a damp spot is gradually forming. 

“A little?” he echoes skeptically. “This doesn’t feel like a little.” he points out as his lips brush against your dampened underwear.

“Don’t get cocky,” you breathe, tugging on his hair as a warning.

“You make it so hard not to, baby,” he coos, trailing one finger up your slit through the underwear and around your clit in circles as you squirm slightly and keen for his touch. “Look how well you react to me, pretty girl—you expect that not to make my head a little big?”

“Whatever,” you huff, frowning petulantly. “Just stop teasing.”

“What is it you want me to do?” he asks innocently, and you roll your eyes.

“Same thing you wanna do.” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I want to taste your pretty pussy,” he says slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole while. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you agree instantly, and he smiles. “What now?”

“Say it,” he urges softly, lifting himself up to bring his lips to yours. “I want you to say it.”

“Haechan, please don’t tease me,” you plead, and he shakes his head.

“Wanna know how bad you want it.” he replies, and you sigh loudly. 

“I want you to… do that.” you mumble, and he shakes his head with a growing smile.

“Do what?” 

“Haechan!”

“Baby, say it and I’ll make your eyes roll back, I swear,” he says seriously. “I just want you to say it.”

“I want you to… go down on me.” you murmur shyly, and he beams, returning his head to between your legs.

“Now was that so hard?” he asks, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“Yes, actually.” 

“Aw, poor baby,” he teases, his words almost distracting you from the way his fingers tug your underwear aside. “You’ll live,” he assures you before leaning in to kiss you right on the clit. You jolt at the sudden sensation, moving away from him, but he loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you back to his face, tongue stroking against your folds before delving in between them. His nose bumps your clit with every lewd wet glide of his tongue along your core, and your breath catches every time, your body wired with desire and anticipation as he messily but expertly devours you.

“Feels good,” you whine breathlessly, and you can feel him smile against your core.

“I know, baby, you’re so wet,” he purrs, sucking on your clit with a groan and a loud, wet pop as he pulls back. “Am I that good, or do you just like me that much?”

You don’t know what comes over you, especially given that Haechan gave you an easy out, but you moan out, “I like you,” heat warming your cheeks as you realize what you just said.

“Yeah, baby? You like me?” he echoes, pressing two fingers against your entrance. “How much?”

“So much, Haechan, like you so much,” you gasp, wanting nothing more than for him to continue, and he moans in delight before doing just that, fingers pushing into you greedily before he litters kisses all over your inner thighs and drags his tongue in wet stripes up your thigh to your core. 

“Like you too, baby, so fucking much,” he grunts, pumping his fingers inside of you as he flicks his tongue over your clit. “Tastes so good, baby, pussy tastes so good—”

“Haechan—”

“Let me make you cum, baby, I wanna make you cum,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you to fuck into your g-spot. “Please cum for me, please, please, please—” His lips are wrapped around your clit, sucking and kissing and tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive button, and his throaty pleas for your release send vibrations through your clit, your body electrified with jolts of pleasure.

“Gonna—you’re gonna make me cum, Haechan—” you whimper breathlessly, and he links the fingers of his free hand with yours as he looks up at you, watching in wonder as you start to fall apart. His tongue works against you fervently, lapping up every bit of arousal that gushes from your entrance around his fingers, and your back arches off the bed, your abdomen tensing as your peak hits. Pleasure shoots through you like a dose of adrenaline, your stomach coiling in on itself as the aftershocks of your climax start to appear. 

Haechan moves with you every bit of the way, craning his neck upwards to keep licking at your core, desperate for every drop of pleasure he can get from you. Your hips drop to the bed, your body feeling spent as he languidly swirls his tongue around your clit and his fingers inside of you.

“Felt good, baby?” he asks throatily, and you nod with a blissed out smile.

“Felt amazing.” you assure him, and he beams up at you, your cum glistening on his chin. 

He crawls up your body to kiss you, quickly deepening the kiss as he reaches to open his pants. You reach your hand inside his boxers when he’s finished, wrapping your hand around his base and starting to stroke him up and down. He groans and lowers his head to kiss down your neck and when he gets to your collarbone, he nips at the thin flesh there, making you hiss in pleasure.

“Need you inside,” you moan, and he nods eagerly, pushing his boxers down and out of the way as his length emerges from its confines.

Without further ado, you bring the head of his shaft to your entrance, pushing it in as far as you can manage, and he whimpers with pleasure, breathing in loudly through his nose. 

“Feels good?” you coo against his lips, and he nods vigorously, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“Feels so fucking good, baby, you have no idea—your pussy drives me crazy.” he grunts before thrusting in more. “Need more, baby, I need it so bad—” he rasps out, and you nod encouragingly, pulling him closer to you.

“Take it, Haechan, it’s yours,” you assure him, and his eyes roll back into his head in bliss before he’s kissing you again, lips molding with yours feverishly as he thrusts into you until he’s bottomed out fully. “So full,” you moan, and he grins distractedly, brows still furrowed as he moves in and out of you in slow, fluid strokes.

“Love filling my baby up,” he coos as his hips settle into the rhythm he’s set for himself. “Pretty baby’s pussy loves sucking my cock in, doesn’t it?”

“Mm—love it, Haechan, feels so good—”

This time around feels… different. Not bad-different at all, just… intimate. There’s the possessiveness from that night at the hotel in Fire Island, then there’s this, a heady blend of devotion and belonging to each other and you just about lose your mind as his length twitches inside of you. 

“Gonna fill you up, baby, gonna make you all mine,” he pants, and you nod with a whimper, reaching for him for another kiss which he reciprocates eagerly. As you kiss him, his length throbs inside of you, pulsing with need, and you can tell he’s close. “Want to cum, baby, but I want you to cum with me.”

You reach between your bodies and start to rub at your clit rapidly, free hand clutching your clothed breast as your whines and cries escalate in volume. His lips find their way to your neck and you just about pass out from all the pleasure, a deep shudder traveling through you when his mouth seeks purchase behind your ear, tongue trailing up and down the small crevice.

Your climaxes come right around the same time; Haechan’s starts first, but yours comes in with all the force of a wildfire, burning through everything in its path. Gasps and moans and the sounds of the sheets rustling are all you can hear as you two ride out your highs, and your eyes screw shut, white stars twinkling and flooding your vision as you rock down onto him to milk your climaxes for all they’re worth. 

When you’re both fully depleted of energy, he pulls out of you and lies down beside you, both of you breathing loudly. After a moment of rest, Haechan gets up and heads out of the room, returning shortly after with a damp cloth which he uses to wipe you down. 

“Thanks,” you sigh sleepily, and he nods with a smile, cupping your chin and kissing you sweetly. 

“It’s getting late,” he sighs. “I should probably get going.”

“Wh—well, why?” you ask with a frown, and he smiles sadly. 

“I have a lot of coding to do tomorrow.” he explains, and you nod slowly, carefully thinking over your next words.

“Do you wanna just… spend the night here?” you ask tentatively, and he looks over at you, hope alight in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you start to say, stumbling over your words slightly. “I feel like it’s late—”

“So late.” he agrees.

“And Ubers are probably expensive back to your place right now—”

“Don’t even get me started on the surge pricing.”

“Right! So, I mean, financially, it just makes sense for you… to stay… here… with me.” you finish, and he looks you over slowly with a budding grin on his face.

“I think that’s clearly the most economically sound decision.” he agrees, and you smile, relieved.

“Great. Now come back here.” you say, patting the spot next to you, and he obliges eagerly, climbing onto the bed and snuggling up to you. “Y’know, we’ve broken, like, all the rules basically.” you mumble, and he scoffs dismissively.

“Maybe those rules are outdated and stupid.”

“I mean, we did put them in place for a reason,” you sigh, and he lifts his head up to look at you skeptically. “But, I mean, maybe they don’t really apply to our scenario anymore…”

“Exactly.” he replies with a hint of smugness in his tone. “So cuddle me and go to sleep.”

And so you do just that, wondering all the while how Haechan might define your scenario now.

When you wake up in the morning, Haechan is hugging you to his chest, your legs tangled together. You peek up at him, smiling at his puffy lips slightly parted as he breathes softly. 

“Haechan?” you say softly, and his nose wrinkles slightly before it relaxes, the male not stirring. “Haechan,” you hum gently, and he scrunches his eyes closed before he barely opens them to look at you. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, and he breathes in deeply before nodding. “Want me to make, like, pancakes or something?”

“Please?” he rasps, and your core tingles with need at his low voice.

“Okay,” you whisper, moving to untangle yourself from him. He groans in protest, clutching you tighter, and you chuckle lightly. “I can’t make the pancakes from the bed,” you remind him, and he frowns before loosening his grip on you, allowing you to extract yourself from his arms. 

You climb out of the bed, grabbing some clothes to wear around the house and going to the bathroom to wash up. When you’re done, you make your way to the kitchen and start setting up to make pancakes, eggs, and bacon as a treat.

You’re letting the pan warm up on the stove as you mix the batter when Haechan emerges from the hallway, sleepily shuffling towards you.

“I have so much work to do today,” he groans, sitting down at the kitchen island and putting his head down. 

“Aw, poor Haechan.” you coo sympathetically, and your soft tone is enough to evoke the whininess from him that you knew was waiting to come out.

“I don’t wanna,” he complains, and you nod understandingly. 

“I bet.” you sigh, pouring the first pancake into the pan. The sizzle starts slow and builds gradually as the batter cooks, and you turn to face Haechan, walking around the kitchen island and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your cheek on his back. You feel him relax in your embrace, Haechan turning around to face you so he can hold your waist and press his lips to your forehead.

“You’re the best.” he mumbles against your forehead. He pulls back slightly to look at you, something tender in his eyes that you haven’t seen before to this extent. It thrills you and yet, something in you is holding back, waiting for the bad news to hit. 

Sure enough, a moment later, a dopey smile crosses his features and he parts his lips to speak, the words “I l—” barely making it out before he snaps his mouth shut with a look of alarm, provoking you to raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“You l—” you prompt him, and he shakes his head, extracting himself from you. 

“I should, um, go get started on my codes for my boss.” he mutters, that same hint of panic weighing on his every action as he starts to walk towards your room, turns back to face you, then shakes his head and finally heads to your room.

“What the hell was that?” you wonder aloud, hurt and confused, but you don’t have much time to deliberate, because he’s entering the kitchen once more, now looking significantly more awake and, more importantly, ready to leave. “Oh, you’re leaving?” you reply, even more confusion swimming in your head.

“Yeah, I, um, I have to get a head start on my work if I don’t want to be up all night,” he mumbles with a chuckle, and the hollowness of it makes your heart ache.

“Haechan, did I do something?” you ask carefully, trying not to sound as wounded as you feel.

“No,” he’s quick—perhaps too quick—to say, shaking his head vehemently. “I just really have to go.” he insists, heading to your front door without a single look back. 

When your door shuts, you stand there, contemplating what just happened and what could have gone so wrong that it made Haechan up and leave like that. You flip the pancake in the pan over half-heartedly, observing the golden brown cooked side before your vision clouds with unshed tears.

“Fuck,” you mutter, wiping your eyes. You hear footsteps heading towards the kitchen from what sounds like Jihyo’s room, and sure enough, she steps into the kitchen, regarding you curiously. 

“Hey,” she says carefully, watching you with increasing concern as you try and fail not to cry. “You okay?”

“Want pancakes?” you ask, your voice cracking on the last syllable, and she rushes over to you, pulling you into a tight, warm hug as you break down quietly in her arms.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she soothes you, rubbing your back in comforting motions. “What happened?”

You sniffle pathetically as you start to tearfully explain everything that went down, from last night to this very strange morning, and Jihyo listens intently, her brows furrowing in sympathy as your bottom lip trembles when you get to recounting the activities of this morning.

“Wow,” she finally says. “Okay, get dressed. No more sad pancakes. We’re gonna get brunch, my treat, and we’re gonna talk this out until you feel better.” she urges, patting your butt lightly to push you forward. 

“Okay,” you say sadly, heading to your room to get dressed.

“So,” Jihyo says as she stirs her coffee. “How long has this been going on?”

You take a break from listlessly poking at your crepes and think back. “About two weeks,” you answer, and she raises her eyebrows.

“It took two weeks for this whole thing to get this off-track?” she asks, surprised, and you nod. “You definitely have feelings for each other.”

“I mean, I have feelings for him,” you explain. “I don’t know if it’s reciprocated.”

She shoots you a blank look over her coffee mug as she takes a tentative sip. “My love?”

“Hm?”

“You know I love you, right?”

You sigh. “What is it?”

“You sound like an idiot.”

“Hey!” 

“You do! You two made rules, he broke virtually every last one of them, and you think he doesn’t have feelings for you?” she exclaims in disbelief.

“Well, he said he wanted it to be casual.” you defend yourself petulantly, and she rolls her eyes.

“Is it casual now?”

“Well, no…”

“And whose fault is that?”

“...Mine?” you ask, and she tsks in disapproval.

“No. Well, slightly, because you allowed it, but Haechan is the one who made things complicated! Sure, he said he wanted it to be casual, but he’s being anything but. He’s walking around acting like your straight-up boyfriend, and you can’t tell if he likes you or not?” she says incredulously, and you pause, thinking over her words.

“Well, then, why would he say he wanted to keep things casual?” you huff, frowning.

“One of two reasons: he might have thought you weren’t interested in dating him and just wanted to be with you in any way he can get.” she explains, and you nod thoughtfully.

“And the other reason?”

“Well, sometimes guys say they don’t want anything serious so they can use it as an excuse to fool around with other girls.” she says honestly, and you blink several times before speaking next.

“You think he’s fooling around with other girls?” you ask worriedly, and she stares at you blankly.

“That should not have been the only takeaway you got from what I just said.”

“Oh, sorry.” you mumble, sipping at your iced coffee.

“Look, can I be honest with you?” Jihyo asks, continuing on before you can answer to say, “Great; I feel like you already liked him before this happened, he definitely liked you too, and now you’re conflicted because of feelings that were present before this was set in motion.” 

You think over her words once more before saying, “So, you don’t think he’s fucking around with other girls?”

Sighing loudly, Jihyo pinches the bridge of her nose. “You are about as stubborn as a mule, you know that?”

“Yes,” you reply with a doleful look. “It’s one of my specialties.”

“Does Jiwoo know about all of this?” she asks, and you shake your head.

“I haven’t told her anything, so I don’t think so.” you sigh, and she screws her face up in thought.

“Maybe we should consult her and see what she thinks.” she suggests helpfully, and you shrug. “Now, I’m not sure if you know this, but the crepes are supposed to make you feel better… but you have to actually eat them to feel the benefits.”

You smile sheepishly and separate a forkful, placing the now-room temperature food in your mouth and chewing. A small smile starts to grow on your face, and she smiles, pleased.

“Now, I want you to think about this carefully; like, do you really want to do this?” Jihyo asks, and you shrug.

“I want things to stay the way they were before this morning.” you lament.

Jihyo raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want to be his girlfriend?”

“Oh! Oh, I do. I very much do, yes.” you say, nodding emphatically, and she smiles fondly.

“Then I think we should see what Jiwoo says. She’ll probably agree with me because, well… I’m right.”

“Says you,” you mumble under your breath, and she raises a challenging eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Thought so.” 

“I think you always liked him,” Jiwoo says. “Like, I could tell from a mile away; anyone could tell. It’s in the way you guys look at each other.” 

“Wait, you guys really think he likes me back?” you ask, hopeful and bewildered.

“Yes, dummy, he likes you back.” Jiwoo says with a roll of her eyes.

“Well… that’s not enough!” you exclaim, and Jihyo and Jiwoo groan, exasperated. “I need him to say it!”

As if the heavens were listening, your phone lights up with an incoming call notification from none other than Haechan. “Oh, shit,” you mumble, staring at it blankly.

“Um, pick up?” Jihyo stresses, whacking your arm. “Girl, pick up!” 

You snatch the phone up from the bed and answer it, calling, “Hello?” into the phone and waiting with bated breath.

“Speaker!” Jiwoo mouths, and Jihyo nods vigorously in agreement. 

You put it on speaker in time for Haechan’s voice to filter through the phone. “Hey, are you home?” 

“Yes, I am,” you answer casually, as if your last interaction didn’t literally reduce you to tears.

“Are Jihyo or Jiwoo home?” he asks, and all of you make the same confused expression at each other, looking at the phone in bewilderment.

“Say no!” Jihyo whispers, and you wave her off.

“They’re home,” you answer, and she throws her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Why?”

“Can you come outside for a second? I need to ask you something.”

“Y’know, Haechan, phone calls were invented so people could ask other people things.”

“I know, but I want to see you,” he stresses hopefully, and you look between Jihyo and Jiwoo, both of whom are nodding vigorously. “Please?”

“Okay,” you agree, and Jiwoo collapses on her back, Jihyo heaving a relieved sigh. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Great,” he says, abruptly ending the call.

“What if he wants to cut things off?” you worry aloud, and Jihyo grabs your shoulders, shaking them firmly. 

“He’s not gonna cut things off. You’ll never know what he wants to do if you don’t go down there and talk to him.” she says sternly, and you blink at her petulantly.

“Fine,” you lament, getting up from the bed and trudging to the front door. 

When you get downstairs, you can see Haechan waiting through the glass doors of your lobby entrance, and he perks up visibly when he sees you, a good indicator.

You step outside and look at Haechan, whose smile widens when you’re standing in front of him.

“Hi,” you say carefully, and his smile turns sheepish.

“Hi,” he says, and it dawns on you that he’s holding his hands behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” you ask curiously, and he smiles wider, presenting you with something wrapped in grayish brown craft paper. You take it and hold onto it, but Haechan frowns, making you let out a noise of confusion.

“Open it!” he urges, and you can’t help but smile at his eagerness, obliging and opening the wrapping. There, in your hands, is the bowl you helped Haechan make; it’s been lightly glazed with your favorite shade of pink, and it looks prettier than it did when you two made it, somehow.

“Oh! Thank you,” you say with a smile, and he gestures for you to continue, making you let out yet another confused sound. 

“Look at the bottom of the bowl.” he says excitedly, and you do just that, peering inside to see—

“Oh,” you gasp softly.

There, in Haechan’s handwriting, are the words “Be Mine?” 

“That’s why I wouldn’t let you see when I was done painting.” he says, bashful now, and you smile widely, looking up at him with bright eyes. “Sorry I’ve been so weird and quiet today; I already liked you, but it hit me last night that I really like you, and this morning I realized that I might even love you.”

“Oh?” you say, smiling so widely it hurts.

“Yeah,” he confirms, nodding proudly. “I went to the pottery place and paid the instructor to bake mine early so I could bring it to you.” 

“Oh, Haechan,” you say softly, your heart swelling in your chest until you fear it might burst.

“I know I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship, but I’m willing to try it if it means I get to be with you—properly this time.” he finishes, and you look up from the bowl to see a hopeful look on his face.

“Oh, thank God,” you sigh, relieved, and Haechan visibly relaxes, a wide smile on his face. “I’ve liked you for ages, actually—like, long before we started this whole arrangement.”

“Me too,” he echoes shyly, and you step closer, throwing your arms around his neck for a tight hug. He wraps his arms around your waist and stays there, holding you tightly. You turn your face inwards to kiss him on the cheek, only for Haechan to look at you like you just slapped him in the face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, confused, and he huffs petulantly.

“I just professed my undying love for you and all I get is a kiss on the cheek?” he squawks, affronted, and you snicker.

“‘Undying love’ is a little crazy, Haechan,” you point out, and he glowers at you.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m a little crazy.” he counters, and you feign surprise.

“Wow… no way… I had no idea… I am just so shocked.” you drawl, and he narrows his eyes.

“Ha, ha, ha. Stop mocking me and put that mouth to better use,” he huffs, pulling you into him for a kiss. It’s deep and slow, Haechan kissing you like he has all the time in the world.

You hear familiar voices cheering, and you look around before looking up to see Jihyo and Jiwoo sticking their heads out of your window, watching you two with smiles on their faces.

“Didn’t know your roommates and our friends were Peeping Toms,” he jokes, and you giggle.

“Less talking, more kissing!” Jiwoo calls out.

“Mind your business, perverts!” you splutter indignantly. 

“No, no, no, why don’t we do what the perverts say?” Haechan suggests with a grin, and kisses you before you can respond, breathing in deeply as he wraps his arms around you tighter.

As you stand on the street, kissing Haechan in front of your best friends, all you can do is smile.

“I don’t think I can eat anymore,” Jaemin groans, rubbing his stomach as you all trudge down the boardwalk. “When they call it a food truck crawl, they’re not kidding; I feel like I should be on my hands and knees right now.”

“You’re weak,” Renjun comments casually. “I’m fine.”

“No, but I really can’t.” Jaemin protests, and Jihyo chuckles. “What’s so funny?” 

“You said that three trucks ago.” she points out, and Jaemin frowns.

“Yeah, but I feel like I’m about to burst—” Jaemin bemoans before stopping short. When you all follow his gaze to a fried dough truck, you burst out laughing.

“What was that about you being about to burst?” you tease, and Jaemin makes a conflicted face, rubbing his stomach.

“Well… maybe I can make room for something sweet…” he mumbles, and you nod in understanding.

“You definitely can,” you encourage him, and he smiles before leading the way to the food truck.

“You’re a bad influence,” Mark laughs, and you shrug.

“He wanted it! I just let him know he could probably fit it in his stomach.” 

“Yeah, leave my girl alone.” Haechan gripes, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you into his side.

“Yeah, leave his girl alone.” you huff, scrunching your nose at Mark, who rolls his eyes.

“You’re definitely more insufferable together,” he comments, and you smile, shrugging.

“Too bad.”

“Yeah, deal with it.” Haechan chuckles, kissing you on the cheek.

“Petition to make them break up?” Renjun proposes, and Jihyo reaches over to swat his arm. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself,” she counters. “I think they’re cute.”

“Why, thank you, Jihyo, my dear friend.” you sigh happily, resting your head on Haechan’s shoulder.

You’re finally at the food truck, and after the attendant takes your order, Haechan steps forward, tapping his phone to the card reader when it prompts him to pay.

“Haechan, baby, you’ve paid for all my food; the pretzel bits, the funnel cake, the loaded hot dogs, the ice cream—”

“I know—”

“The mozzarella sticks—”

“I want to!”

“The tater tots—”

“Baby.”

“And now the fried dough!” you finish off as if he’d never spoken, and he smiles fondly, cupping your face in his hands.

“You’re my girl, right?”

“Of course,” you reply, the words slightly distorted due to his hold on your face.

“That’s right. You’re my girl, so I got you.” he answers simply, and you feel heat rushing to your face.

“Fuck, why was that attractive?” you mumble to yourself, and he chuckles, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I’m glad you like it, because I’m not stopping any time soon.” he informs you. “Got it?”

“Got it.” you reply, and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good.” he says, releasing your face and taking your hand. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand, and you smile fondly, happier than ever.

“Hey, Haechan, if I bat my eyes all cute like her, can I get free food, too?” Renjun asks, and Haechan snorts.

“Good luck looking as good as she does when she does it.” 

“Did you just call me ugly?!” Renjun splutters, and Haechan raises his hands defensively, your linked hand coming up with his involuntarily.

“No one said that. I just said you’re not gonna look as good to me as she does when she does it.” he replies calmly, and Renjun narrows his eyes at him.

“Tread carefully, Lee Haechan.” Renjun warns him.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “I’m so scared.”

“I’ll deglove you!” Renjun threatens, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“I’ll castrate you if you even think about it for too long.” you tell him.

Renjun frowns. “I hate when they’re on the same side, and now they’re gonna be on the same side forever!”

He stomps off to another food truck in the distance, and your friends, after receiving their orders, follow after him. You and Haechan fall to the back of the group, and Haechan hums thoughtfully, prompting you to turn your head to look at him.

“What is it?”

“I like the sound of that.” he muses, and you make a face.

“Surely we’re not talking about the castrating and degloving.”

“We most certainly are not.” Haechan assures you, and you relax. “The ‘forever’ part.” You promptly inhale so sharply that you choke on the bite of fried dough in your mouth, and Haechan rubs your back soothingly as you cough and hack and gasp for air. “You alright, baby?”

“I’m good,” you pant, wiping a stray tear from your eye. “Before I almost died just now, I was going to say that… I like the sound of ‘forever’ too.”

“With me?” he asks hopefully, and you roll your eyes.

“No, with Jeno.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Not funny.”

“Wasn’t laughing. Yes, with you, dummy.”

“I may be a dummy, but I’m your dummy. And you’re stuck with me. Forever.” he draws out the last word with a bright grin.

And as you lean in to kiss him, you murmur, “I definitely can live with that.”

and that’s the end! i hope you enjoyed!! stay tuned for a bonus scene of this fic, exclusive to patreon!!

[idontactuallywrite]

never quite close enough; choi seunghyun

pairing co-star!choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader

contains pining for older co-star!choi seunghyun, reader is in her mid twenties or smt, age gap, slight angst, unrequited love, mention of harassment if u squint

note had this idea for a while hope u enjoy it!

part 1 part 2

—

HE WAS ALWAYS SO careful, so respectful—sometimes, it drove you crazy.

The industry men weren’t as restrained, nor as hesitant. Their hands always found excuses to sneak a feel of your skin, whether it was a grimy squeeze at your shoulders or a disgusting slide down your back. If only it was Seunghyun's hand gripping your sides through your silk dress. You’d lean in, savor every bit of his touch—even if it was lecherous. God, how you wished he even thought of you that way. You didn’t mind. You wanted him to. You wanted him badly.

Yet, whenever you found yourself in his proximity, no matter how close, he always felt so far. Seunghyun had every opportunity to touch you, but he never took the chance. Was it because you weren’t pretty enough? Wasn’t his type? Any man would be thrilled to have a young, pretty thing like you to flaunt.

The closest Seunghyun ever came to touching you the way you hoped—if he even did—was on a narrow staircase at the premiere of your movie. You stumbled slightly in your heels, the hem of your dress catching awkwardly beneath your step. Your very sweet co-star came to your aid from behind. In that moment, you found yourself repeating a mantra in your head, hoping Seunghyun would catch your arm or rest his hand at the small of your back.

Seunghyun's hand hovered near your arm—never touching, just there, always respectful. "Careful, I got you," he murmured quietly as he patiently helped you up the stairs. In one fleeting second, his fingertips grazed the barest edge of your elbow, and you swore the world stopped. Your breath hitched in your throat, a cold wave washed over you as you replayed the feel of his touch. You replayed it once, twice—too many times to count—and yet you could never recall how the actual event played out. Did you imagine it? Did you want to feel him so badly that you made it up?

"How can you wear heels that high? You even trip in sneakers." His teasing snapped you out of your reverie. Your surroundings rushed back into focus. There it was again—that smile. Playful, almost patronizing. The same smile he gave whenever you fumbled through a scene, clumsy with nerves or the pressure of it all. He treated you like a little girl. You couldn’t help but feel that, in his eyes, you were more of an endearing colleague than a woman. It frustrated you—how he never gave any indication that he saw you as anything more than a colleague. Every smile was warm but never lingering—nothing that hinted at something deeper. It was as if he saw you as little more than a platonic figure, maybe even a sister. Ugh.

You couldn’t decide if he was simply being respectful because of the age difference, or if it was because you weren’t who he wanted. That man is nearing his 40s, why would he even be thinking of you that way anyways? The uncertainty gnawed at you, leaving you to question whether there was something wrong with you, or if he was just that good at hiding what others made so obvious.

[mrsparrasblog]

Tf141 x Introducing your Boyfriend after they fucked up.

So I was thinking about a reader who kinda fell in love with her whole squad. You didn't want to.

At first, you fell in love with Johnny, the obvious choice. He was always flirting with you, calling you all these cute Scottish pet names like "hen" and "bonnie", and taking you on dates.

It was perfect until your feelings grew for the stoic, fatherly captain. He was mature, so much more mature than Johnny. He fixed your half-house when you were on leave, always checking if you were safe and making sure you drank enough. It was the perfect combination between Johnny's golden retriever behavior and his strong personality. It was okay in your books to fall in love with two men. It wasn't the first time it happened to someone, right?

You thought you were crazy when the scary lieutenant found his way into your overcrowded heart. He was like a guard dog for you, protecting you from all the creeps on base. And how couldn't you fall in love after he protected you from two men at the bar? Many men said, "I'd burn the world down for you", but the fact about Simon was he really would.

You thought you finally lost it when you were cuddling with your best friend Kyle again, like always. He grew up to be your safe space after a while. You never thought there would be more than platonic love. He was your platonic soulmate until you were pinned under him, getting fucked, with slow thrusts while he repeated over and over again how he loved you since day one. Yes, you're in a fucked up situation.

How could you approach this? After overthinking for straight months, you finally managed to tell them. "You can't love us all, that's batshit crazy," they mumbled, and god, it broke your heart as much as theirs. They never thought about a poly relationship before, but they all loved you and none of them wanted to give up their spot in your heart.

it took you several months to get over this embarrassment. The feelings never left, but you found a new boyfriend who was completely different from all of them. That was good, right? After a while, they got you to introduce your boyfriend to them after a deployment in an overpriced bar your lawyer boyfriend picked in Canary Wharf - The first mistake in their books. Of course, John fit in there with his neat whiskey but come on, this wasn't the place for you guys.

Johnny was the nicest of all of them; he at least had the courtesy to greet your boyfriend and be nice to him. You just didn't realize how he pulled as many jokes as possible, making you laugh for hours, how James couldn't. He was just nice, nothing to worry about, James, you said to him all over again.

Simon took his hand and almost broke it while shaking it, his 6'4" frame towering against your 5'6" boyfriend. He always had a grip on James, whispering in his ears, "And how is a twig like you able to protect my girl?"

By accident, your tires were slashed. "No, James, why should John have done this?" you rolled your eyes. Even worse, your boyfriend didn't know how to change a tire, so you stood there in the rain changing that damn tire while James stood under the umbrella until John came up, "Lovely, go sit in the car, I'll change it." He pulled his sleeves up, flexing his muscular arms while he fixed your problems like always. He was your husband after all, at least in his books.

Kyle hit it off when he walked towards James and whispered in his ear, "I bet you don't satisfy her, does she still taste sweeter than cinnamon there? Does she still get the whole bed soaked in squirt? Does she beg for you?" You didn't believe James when he told you Kyle said that, your Kyle, your best friend? The nicest man on earth ever.

"You're paranoid, James. I think it's better if we call it off," he accused all of your friends of things they never would even do. How could you be with someone so jealous?

"Mhm, broke up with James," you said.

"Was too boring for you, Bonnie",

"was too short for you and couldn't even throw a proper punch",

"couldn't fix a damn tire",

"you deserve someone better, not some jealous loser, what do you even want from a lawyer?"

[pomefioredove]

having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

[filmtv2022]

Our Time is Limited (18+)

Part II

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Reader

-- Platonic/former lover relationship with Emperor Caracalla x Reader

Synopsis: Reader has belonged to Caracalla for as long as she can remember, her job has been to love and serve him in the quiet moments when even the attention of a concubine cannot suffice. She has served the emperor in whatever capacity he desired. Through the years her love for him grew beyond what many would have deemed proper for one in her position of employment, but it was not a romantic love. The presence of disease had stolen the man she'd once given everything to. Left to care for Caracalla in the midst of his break from reality, Emperor Geta and the reader are forced to admit the feelings they've long harbored for one another.

Warnings: SMUT/sexual acts + "cheating" (but not really, Caracalla and reader no longer have that kind of relationship) + alcohol consumption + language (?)

A/N: Well... when I said the crazy emperors had my brain... I wasn't lying. I have not abandoned my Marcus Acacius story... I just needed to get this off my mind. That said, there may be one more part of this depending on how I feel and how this does. I apologize for any mistakes. I wrote this in a couple of hours.

------------------------------

Hovering in the background, you squeezed between the spectators, inching closer to the emperors. The copper-headed pair sat surrounded by their entourage of concubines and common whores whose sole purpose was to entertain, to give in to the whims of the men they served. Your role was not entirely different, and yet, you were to be set apart from the others. Your presence at these events was required, but the emperors would sooner murder than allow the public to view you in the same light as those whose hands roamed their bodies in public. You served a much more intimate purpose. Therefore, you kept your distance, leaving just enough space between yourself and them so that no eyes would wonder and question. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Emperor Geta caught your approach. His eyes locked onto you, searching for any sign of anxiety or nerves. He knew without question that you desired to be anywhere but here, and still, he didn't doubt that your loyalty remained strong. Your features were stoney and severe with your attention falling to his brother whose eyes were on the scantly clad man sat before him. The burnt orange of your stola matched the hue his brother famously loved and complimented the bare expanse of skin along the shapely curve of your arms and shoulders. You were positively stunning, every bit the measure of the well-to-do women who adorned their husbands' arms. 

Satisfied that nothing was amiss, Geta hesitated for a moment, seeing the weariness behind your eyes. Something troubled you, but given the state of his brother's mental well-being, it was likely as anything that was the cause of your worry. With nothing to be done at the time, he reached for the concubine he’d carted along for the day's festivities. Hauling her close, he let the weight of her hand against his chest, settle the crashing energy that sang through his body, but nothing was a match for the intensity of the fight that erupted amongst the gladiators. 

The fight was brutal and quick. The larger man crumpled into a bloody heap, soaking the marble floor in a sea of sickly scarlet. The pool smeared beneath the weight of his body as the guards dragged him out of the room. The grunts and moans of pain were soon replaced by the questioning trill of Emperor Geta. The fight had clearly impressed him. The eloquent sound of poetry rolling off the tongue of the victor caught you as strange, but now was not the time to linger. With the crowd in awe and Geta keyed up, it felt like the appropriate moment to slink back into oblivion. 

You maneuvered down a darkened hall, the only light poured in amber waves along the stone from the torches that lined the walls. The walk passed without note, the distant sound of chatter gave way to the echo of your sandaled feet. Each step brought you further from the chaos of the arena and for that you were grateful. No matter how many games you saw, the violence never grew more appealing. You couldn’t blame the emperors for enjoying the joys they were afforded in life, but that did nothing to change your opinion. They could eat, drink, fuck, and enjoy whatever and whomever they desired. Your job was simply to be there when called. No questions or judgment, and that was more than enough for you to handle. 

The sudden clomp of footfalls barreling down the corridor sent electricity singing down your spine. Snapping back in their direction, you reached for the blade which sat flush along your thigh. The metal was warm to the touch, the heat of your body having warmed it palpably. No sooner had you freed it of its holster, than a familiar face rounded the corner. Emperor Geta’s pale face glowed oddly in the flickering light, the shadows casting his features in mystery. Sliding your weapon back into place, you stayed rooted to the spot and waited the mere seconds it took for him to close the space between you. 

“Where are you going?” His voice was soft as he crowded into your space. His hands flexed at his sides, itching to touch you, to hold you close, but that was a line he couldn’t bring himself to cross, if only for the sake of his brother’s well-being. “My brother… he calls for you.”

Your face dropped to the floor, unable to stand the burn of his molten stare. “I am unwell… my-my head.” The lie was partially rooted in truth. The violence of the fight brought back memories of a long past day that led you to the gates of the palace, in need of a kindness that only those in power could grant you. The simple memory of which brought you real physical pain.

“Have you eaten today? Perhaps some wine and bread could cure what ails you. I have selected the best for our celebration.” A thin smile flashed upon the emperor’s face, pulling the corner of his lips up in a beautiful tilt though the grin didn’t meet his eyes.

“As much as I adore your taste in wine, I do not believe any amount of drink will ease the pain I am feeling. Now if you’ll excuse me, Emperor.”  The swish of your stola brushing against your skin sounded as you turned away. 

Panic flashed hot forcing Geta to move… to speak. “Wait!” His outstretched hand sat in the space between you for only a moment before dropping back to his side. “He needs you… he’s- he’s struggling. Today is not a good day.” 

“I am aware, but he has you.” 

“But I am not the one he desires.” Once again, Geta stepped closer, pleading with you to listen. “I fear what he will do, how he will act before the public today without you by his side. Please, for his sake… and for my own. Care for him as only you are able.” 

The sheen that pooled in Geta’s eyes was enough to flip your stomach. This cruel and vicious man held his heart wide for those he loved. It was a select few, but those he cared for in that way were not only adored beyond measure but treated with a life only he could provide. There was a true sincerity to it. He held his brother dear despite the many rumors that circulated about the pair. Caracalla had long since been the subject of jokes and cruel speculation. It was true, the illness that plagued his loins had spread to his brain, eating away at the once vibrant and loving man he’d once been. And yet, no matter how much he’d lost to the disease, there was always a thread of his former self there to reel him in and back to reality.  

But as of late, that thin connection between reality and fantasy had grown more fragile. It took a delicate hand to keep Caracalla balanced, especially in front of important company and prying eyes. You and Emperor Geta were the cherished few who had the ability to return Caracalla to this world, and increasingly, your loving touch seemed to be the only thing that worked. 

“I understand. I will do what is necessary.” You nodded shallowly, acknowledging the favor the emperor had asked of you. “Let us not linger, it is unwise for him to be alone with those vultures you surround yourselves with.” 

A flicker of shock at your boldness shot across his features, but he decided against pursuing the thoughts and questions that flooded his mind. Instead, he settled with a simple statement of thanks before guiding you back to his brother. 

The murmur of people grew louder with each passing step until it reached a tipping point. Back inside the space you’d fled so quickly, you searched the crowd for Caracalla. It took only seconds to find him, standing beside the table overflowing with treats and wine. Your approach was lost on him, his entire focus settled on selecting the next delicacy. With his stability in question, you knew it would be wise to make your presence known before stepping into the space beside him. 

“Emperor Caracalla!” The youthful man turned to find the person who’d spoken, and at the sight of you, an enormous grin erupted from ear to ear across his pockmarked face. “What delicious finds have you discovered for us today?!” The shirtless man who’d accompanied the emperor from before took one look at you and decided he was no longer needed. Relieved of his duty, he retreated to stand with the group of concubines that had formed near the entrance, greeting the guests as they moved to and fro. 

“My dear!” Crumbs adorned the corners of his mouth as he held the remnants of a pastry in his hand. “Come! You must try this! It is simply delightful!” 

The emperor met you halfway, holding out the last bite for you to take. You could feel the stares that descended upon the pair of you as he held the last bite to your lips. You opened for him, luxuriating in the sweetness that coated your tongue. Caracalla’s eyes gleamed with delight at the sound of your satisfied hum of appreciation unaware of how this interaction would appear to others. 

“It was delicious. Thank you for sharing.” You reached for his face and brushed away the flecks of baked dough that clung to his makeuped countenance. Avoiding the open marks that even rouge could not cover, you pushed through the pain to give him the smile he so clearly wanted to see. The boyish wonder in his eyes was catching.

The emperor’s fragile hands settled on your waist. His touch was not that of a lover, but that of a young man desperate for the attention and love he deserved. Holding you close as he spoke. “Where did you go? I’d thought you’d left me.” Caracalla paused for a moment intending to let you speak, but the furrow of your brows kept the words flowing. “Are you all right? Your brow is pinched. You only get that look when you are in pain.” 

Tenderly, you swept a stray hair away from his temple. “I am as well as can be expected, and please, forgive me for my momentary absence. The swell of noise during the fight was too much for me to handle. But I am here now. I would never leave you.” 

“But you are not well… I can see it here. It is one of your head pains.” The pad of his finger ran between your brows and down the bridge of your nose. “You need not be brave for me. You must rest, there will be many more games for you to enjoy.” 

Sensing a pair of knowing eyes upon you, your attention flicked in the direction of Emperor Geta and found him watching just as you’d suspected. Even without words, you knew exactly what he asked. The nearly imperceptible nod of your head assured him that you were going to uphold your promise. 

“I appreciate your kindness, Emperor, but my place is here… with you. There will be time for rest later. Besides, I’m sure a steady flow of wine and pastries would do me good.” You forced yourself to smile once more before heading toward the table. “Join me. Tell me what I must try!” 

A gleeful laugh bubbled from Caracalla as he followed quickly behind. The pair of you stayed like this, tasting and drinking until it was time to retreat to the Emperors’ box for the games. Focused only on the task at hand, your eyes never ventured into the arena. Rather, you studied the way Caracalla moved, the cadence of his speech, admiring the way his eyes lit up at the clash of swords.  Through all this, unbeknownst to you, Geta’s attention split between the violence unfolding before him and yourself. He clung to the sound of your laughter and marked the hazy film that unfocused your gaze the longer the day drug on. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt the pain you’d claimed to be ailed by earlier had grown nearly unbearable, and yet your attention never wavered. The dedication you showed his brother filled him with something he couldn’t label. The warmth low in his belly belied just how fully he’d come to care for you. 

--------------------------------------------------------

Night had settled upon the emperors' residence. The halls fluttered with torchlight, but the depths of Geta’s chambers were a murky gray, illuminated only by the moon filtering through curtains that swayed in the breeze. The concubines he’d selected to entertain his needs lay spread out over his bed, their bare skin damp with sweat from the night’s activities. The only sound besides that of their gentle breathing was the rustle of the soldiers posted outside his door. One could never be too careful. 

The blissful silence had him drifting into sleep when the sudden thunder of banging upon his door ripped him from the edge of slumber. Sitting bolt upright in bed, he reached for the knife that sat beneath his pillow, ready to defend himself should the need arise. Geta’d barely managed to extricate himself from the pile of limbs he’d been entangled with and don his robes when the frantic call of your voice pleading with his praetorian sent dread running through his limbs. Heavy with worry and lack of sleep, he pushed across the large room and ripped open the door. 

The movement was followed by your lithe frame pushing inside his chambers, and what he saw only heightened his fear. Crimson stained your cheek, running down the smooth expanse of your neck before soaking into the luscious fabric of the robe you had wrapped around yourself. He recognized it at once as belonging to Caracalla. The fact that you’d been attending to his brother was not unexpected, but the wound that marred your face was terrifying. 

“You’re hurt! Tell me at once who did this to you!?” Geta’s voice shook with the effort it took to maintain his control. Behind him, the stirring of his “guests” went unnoticed. His calloused fingers wiped gently at the oozing cut along the top of your cheek. You’d flinched from the pain, reaching for his wrist to still his ministrations. Frozen in place at the feeling of your touch, he waited barely breathing for your response. 

“It’s your brother! He woke in a fit, he… he didn’t recognize me. He tried to- he thou- he thought I was there to kill him. He-” 

“He did this to you?!” It wasn’t so much a question to you, but to himself for this was the thing he’d always feared. The day in which even your presence wouldn’t be enough to return him to this world. 

“Yes.” You whispered, afraid of what this could mean for the beautiful men you’d come to adore after all this time. The pain in Geta’s eyes at your confusion was crushing. “I am so sorry, Geta.”

“Do not apologize. I will take care of this.” Forced to let go of you, he spoke quickly with his guards before dismissing his guests. The women scrambled for any scrap of clothing they could find and made their hasty exit. 

Moving on his command, the soldiers hastened toward Caracalla’s chamber, leaving you behind with Geta. Alone, he grabbed for a chiton that lay draped over the chair beside him. Reaching for you, he pressed the cloth to your cheek applying pressure as he spoke, “Stay here, and keep this on the wound until I return. When I leave, lock the door behind me and open for no one other than myself. Understand?” 

“Yes.” A slight nod from him was all he managed before turning to follow his praetorian. 

Doing as you were told, you soon moved further into the room. You admired the lived-in feel it maintained despite the solid marble that made up every surface. The bed sat disheveled, clearly the night's adventures had been rather boisterous. Staring at the tangle of sheets, you felt the bile rise in your stomach. You laid no claim upon Geta and yet you couldn’t stop the bubble of envy that stirred in your soul. 

The breeze fluttered through the curtains allowing you to peer beyond the protective walls of the palace to the streets of Rome. Even at this late hour, people moved about. Some lit their path with flame while others remained shrouded in darkness, praying they could slither about unnoticed. It took only a few more steps to reach the balcony. Fresh air filled your lungs as you leaned against the entryway, your nerves still buzzing with anxiety. Time slipped by unreliably. Each minute an hour, fraying the last of your resolve into shreds. 

-------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, a soft knock accompanied by Geta’s worn voice pulled you across the room. Petrified to know what had become of the situation, you hesitated before opening the door. The wood groaned under your touch, but it was the tear-streaked face that lay on the other side that nearly stopped your heart. 

“What happened?” You inquired, giving Geta space to slip inside his room. The loud thunk of the lock being placed filled the silence before he gathered the strength to speak. 

Reaching for the cloth you pressed to your cheek, his voice trembled, the gravel in it even more present. “It is taken care of.” The soft thump of the chiton hitting the floor punctuated his confession. The pit in your stomach was anything but relieved by his answer.

“What does that mean?” You searched for signs of gore along the cuffs of his robes, terrified of what you might find.

“He’s sedated. May the gods right his mind during this sleep.” You watched Geta as he scanned over the now-clotted wound along your cheek. Though you couldn’t see, there was no doubt that deep shades of blue and purple had already begun to bloom alongside where the knife had sliced your skin. 

“Come here. We must clean this or risk infection.” He moved toward the nearby table.

“It is alright. I can take care of it myself. There is acetum and honey in Caracalla’s chamber. There is no need to waste your supply or your time. You must be exhausted.” Tired only of pretending, Geta’s sturdy frame crowded your space, backing you gently into the cool expanse of stone next to the doorframe. With nowhere to go, you forced yourself to look him in the eye for the first time since he’d returned from tending to his brother.

Words clawed at the back of your throat, trapped beneath the swell of emotions that burned the bridge of your nose. As if moving on their own accorded, Geta’s sure hands found the curve of your waist and the stained column of your neck. Resting his brow against yours, the warmth of his breath drifted over your face as he spoke. “Stay here... with me. I do not care for the idea of you alone with him. Not after this.” 

Geta’s chapped lips brushed over yours, never quite embracing the plush expanse of your mouth, but it was more than enough to send a flush rushing over your skin. Your lungs hitched at the feeling of his mouth falling to the hollow of your neck. He hovered over your body, only catching skin for fractions of a second at a time. Your hands found him, running the length of his chest before dipping inside his robes to trace light lines over the ripple of muscle that lay beneath the surface. Geta’s own lungs caught at the press of your hand low upon his abdomen.  

Your whisper at the shell of his ear locked him in place. “I cannot stay, you know this. My place is with him.” 

“That is only half the truth and you know it. You feel it the same as I… you belong here… with me. You always have.” 

“My contract would say otherwise.” The raw ache in your voice pulled Geta back to look at your face. Silver pools threatened to fall as you continued, “Until your brother passes or frees me from his service, I belong to him and no other. It matters not what I feel for you.” 

“You cannot believe that.” 

“Then what am I to believe?” Defiantly, you pressed the flat of your palms to his chest and pushed him back further. “He is the emperor of Rome, the same as you. To defy him would mean my death, even you could not overrule that.” 

“He would he would never have to know.” 

“Secrets move like lightning in this palace. There would be no keeping this from him.” You moved to make your exit, but the firm grip of Geta’s hand on your wrist kept you from fleeing. You whipped to face him, striking with your words like a snake, “My death would be on your hands and I do not want that weighing on your conscience. Not now, too much rests on your shoulders. If you feel for me as you say you do… then you know what we must be to each other. We can have nothing more.” 

“I’m tired of waiting, of pretending that I want anyone but you warming my bed. You are what I desire, what I have always desired. Must I continue to lie to appease my brother?” 

“Your brother’s time grows short. I will not squander it and neither should you!” 

“There are enemies around every corner, there is no promise of tomorrow. Why should I deny myself what I want most?” Swiftly, Geta hauled you close, his lips crashed against yours, devouring the taste of you. With your back against the wall once more, he slotted his thigh between your own, pressing you down upon himself and earning the most glorious moan from your lips. Caution was thrown to the gods as you threaded your fingers through his hair, holding firm to the roots as he palmed your breasts over your robes. The swipe of his thumb over your nipple sent shivers down your spine and sparked a newfound energy in the emperor. 

He wanted more, needed more. The sounds of your altered breathing, paired with the dampness pooling along his thigh gave him the permission to keep going. With practiced ease, he untied the knot at your waist, and pushed the oversized robe from your shoulders, exposing you to him. 

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He smiled against your skin as he spoke. His lips worked a line of fire from the hollow of your neck to your chest. The talented flick of his tongue over your nipple had you gasping for air. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Tiny whimpers from you accompanied his continued journey south. Dropping to his knees, he found himself mesmerized by the feeling of your skin beneath his lips. Calloused hands roamed the broad expanse of your stomach before dropping to explore your thighs. 

Geta nipped and sucked at the skin there, leaving marks only he’d know existed. Nearly to where you needed to feel him the most, the emperor pulled back, leaving your skin on fire and your need unfulfilled. A whine ripped from your lungs as your eyes dropped to look at him, and what you found was intoxicating. Geta’s eyes were blown, the rich brown was hidden behind his pupils. Lust had replaced all other emotions. 

Your fingers ran through his soft strands in a feeble attempt at guiding him back to you. When you felt him resist, you finally spoke. “Why have you stopped?” 

Geta’s strong hands gripped the back of your legs, keeping you steady as he spoke. “Believe me when I say this, I love you. Nothing will stand between us. I vow to protect you until my dying day”

The emperor didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, his mouth returned to you, this time right where you’d wanted him before. The steady pressure of his lips around your sensitive bud would have been enough to bring you over the edge, but the insistent curl of his fingers in your core had you keening. Geta hummed against you adding to the pleasure. It had been far too long since you’d felt the loving touch of another. What existed between you and Caracalla had never made it to this point. For certain, there had been romantic moments, sensual touches, and lust-fueled encounters, but those had long since ceased. Even prior to the onset of his illness things had begun to shift. But the real change had come upon him falling ill. This had brought about a necessary departure from that kind of bond. The disease that stole him from reality also stole him from the urges that all humans felt, leaving you to take care of yourself in those moments for far too long. 

But in this room, surrounded by only moonlight, and the man at your feet, you found yourself again. It took only a few more well-placed strokes of his fingers for Geta to bring you over the edge. Sparks tore through your body, causing your muscles to spam and your core to clench in rhythmic waves around his fingers. Carefully, Geta worked you through your release stopping only once he felt your body relax. Unsure of your ability to stay standing on your own, he stood to full height, capturing your lips at once. 

You could taste yourself upon his lips, earning him a heady groan. Wanting to hear more of you, he brought his slick-covered fingers to your mouth, running his calloused fingers lips along them before dipping past your lips. The plush heat of your tongue swirling around him, sent his head spinning as he purred in your ear. “Good girl.” 

You could feel him hard against your stomach, his own robes were now damp with arousal. The desire to return the favor was overwhelming, and had it not been for his next request, you’d have dropped to your knees just then. Geta smoothly whispered. “Let me take you to bed, even if it’s just for tonight. Let me love you the way you deserve.” 

Geta’s wide palms slid over your backside before lifting you gracefully into his arms. Stumbling back to his bed, he lowered you into the expanse of soft sheets that covered the mattress. With you safe and settled, he stepped back and removed his robe. Dropping the burgundy and gold material to the ground, his fist ran the length of his cock, tearing a hiss from between his teeth as he rolled over the throbbing tip. 

Geta’s self-control crumbled at the sight of you sprawled out before him. Your hands roamed your own body fluttering over your core and massaging your breasts. With each pass of your fingers, his need to feel you wrapped around him grew too much to bear. Done with waiting, done with watching, the emperor lowered himself on top of you, collecting your slick with his member before easing himself inside. Geta’s strong arms caged you in, blocking out everything but the feeling of you and him together. He searched for your lips, needing to kiss you, but the embrace soon turned into nothing more than swallowing each other's moans. Each roll of his hips brought you closer to the edge once more, even as he clung to the final shred of himself. 

“Geta, please…” The pitiful sound of his name tumbling from your lips, accompanied the drag of your nails along his back. Your actions were sure to have left a mark, but it mattered not. With one final pull at the base of his hair, Geta let himself go. You were soon to follow. Your ragged breaths matched with his as he lowered himself further onto you. His weight was heavy against your chest, and yet you knew without it you’d feel exposed. It was exactly what you both needed as you came down from your high. 

As your breathing slowed down, the emperor rolled to his side, leaving you empty. You whined at the loss of him, but as if sensing your need, he reached for you, hauling you close. Your face pressed into his chest as your legs tangled. Alone, in his bed, Geta pressed a kiss to your forehead and held you close. For the first time in ages, the world seemed right, as if nothing terrible could happen. He knew that come break of day things would return to normal, but for now, he’d live in this temporary reality. 

(Part II)

[kqutie]

EPIC : THE FAIR MAIDEN (not so platonic ver.)

CHAPTER THREE : THE NEW ISLAND

relations. : platonic various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polites/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic elpenor/reader ; platonic perimedes/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader ; hermes/reader

chpt. sum. : You and the crew spend some time on your island, where they try to stay sane from all the crazy antics you pull. One God in particular, however, is having all the laughs, much like his great-grandson.

tags. : reader continues being a disney princess ; female, mute reader ; pure comfort ; reader helps ody get home ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; this chapter is kinda chaotic XD ; the crew are simps ; hermes makes an appearance ; hermes being a flirty menace ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; characters know their future ; happy ending for everyone!

length. : 6.5k

a/n : I wrote this to feel better from my cold and monthly cramps all at once and I've gotta say, it was the perfect remedy (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)♡ it's just that it may read like the person who wrote this was suffering from sleep-deprivation and if you think that then you're absolutely right! please forgive me (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝) i needed something to do other than rot in bed when i couldn't even sleep because it was so hard to breathe without pain anywho~ enjoy!

navi. | series m.list

← prev | two: the favourable circumstance

Venturing onto the island, you lead the way and invite Odysseus, Polites, Eurylochus and the crew to explore. You know that your island is safe, so you turn to everyone with open arms and a bright smile as if to say ‘Welcome! Please make yourselves at home’. Polites couldn’t help but grin at your obvious invitation, his heart-warming over the ‘open arms’ message he has managed to pass onto you. 

“Thank you, fair maiden,” he takes a knee and bows, prompting everyone else, even Odysseus, their king, to follow his lead, “Thank you for welcoming us here,” The bashful image of you they look up to makes their hearts melt. Soon enough, they were happily setting out to explore the island, taking in its beautiful scenes while you venture off on your own, too. 

You had one goal in mind: setting up a bath. Nothing is more relaxing than having a hot bath to soak in and getting to feel refreshed and new when you’re done washing up. Finding a secluded location, you design a bathing area composed of three outdoor baths with lots of bamboo surrounding it for privacy and equip the general area with the amenities needed, such as baskets full of bath towels and dispensers for shampoo, conditioner and body wash. You even set up a section of shower booths, where you plan on demonstrating how to use the shower before they get in the hot springs, for sanitary purposes.  

The entire time you were putting things together, the crew had settled down, enjoying stable ground for the first time, in a long time. They had never seen such lush grass and thriving wildlife before. However, it only made sense. This was your island, after all, their fair maiden, who only seems to bring peace and comfort. Naturally, your home island would be a paradise.  

“How wondrous,” Polites voices in awe, spotting an orchard of fruit trees and a crop field across the river where a beautiful wooden bridge arches to cross the gap. He’s never seen such elegant architecture quite like it before and speculates that it may come from the distant East. 

“What a beautiful place,” Eurylochus comments, also in awe of the island’s gorgeous scenery and herbage. It was an unknown place that they were exploring for the first time and yet, he’s never felt safer. 

“Where is our fair maiden?” Odysseus asks his nearest crew member, unable to admire the landscape for long, his mind too occupied by where you’ve disappeared off to without warning. Over the few days he’s spent in your company, Odysseus has grown a strong feeling of protectiveness over you. It’s a feeling he can comfortably liken to one he feels over Ctimene, his younger sister. Immediately recognising the warm tenderness and unable to deny it, he falls fully into the emotion instead. He’d happily take on another sister. It’s needed, especially with 600 men surrounding you.

“I believe I just saw her speed by,” Lycaon comments, making the Captain raise a brow. 

“How fast could she possibly be running to—” Odysseus was cut off, however, when he catches your speeding visage in his periphery. Astonished, everyone close by stands still for a moment to observe your activity. One minute, you were racing one way, and the other minute racing the other way. And then, you stop in front of a tree, where the crew are convinced that you’re finally done with your zooming about — that is until you suddenly materialise an axe and begin chopping at the tree, earning you perfectly chopped logs of wood. Some log piles are differently coloured, clearly coming from a different type of tree, but you were hacking your axe at only one tree.

“Huh?...” Elpenor asks, confused as Perimedes stares at you with a blank look on his face. 

Everyone’s jaws collectively drop to the floor. Was a beauty like you always capable of such strong feats of strength? And were the trees here as magical as you?!

“H-how is that possible?” one crew member asks nobody in particular, scratching at his head. 

“She’s the fair maiden, it’s best not to question anything,” another man comments loud enough for all surrounding persons to hear and hum in agreement over. 

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Odysseus chuckles fondly with a shake of his head. Just before you are off zooming again, Odysseus comes up to you and politely asks, “Fair maiden, may we have some of the fruit from the orchard?” smiling, you happily give your consent with a nod, “Thank you,” he bows his head slightly, “do you have a preferred method of how we should go about collecting the fruit?” 

You think for a moment before deciding it won’t harm them much to learn how to shake trees. It’ll save you the hassle of getting them the fruits whenever they feel a little peckish. With a nod, you lead the men over the bridge to your orchard and step up to a pear tree with three ripe and incredibly large pears on it. From a distance, the men watch as you move your soft hands to grip the tree’s trunk and begin violentlyshaking it until the three pears drop, unbruised, from their perch. Their only reaction was stunned silence. Again, had you always been this strong? 

(From a distance, Odysseus can swear he hears a familiar, brain-tickling giggle.)

“I-I assume you want us to keep away from the crop fields’ produce,” Polites asks, stuttering through his stupefied state. 

As expressive as always, you nod, gesturing to the neighbouring crop fields before tapping your chest, as if to say, ‘Yep! That’s mine,’, you then wiggle a finger at them with a teasing shake of your head: ‘Not yours,’ you make an ‘X’ with your arms and then gesture to your hand, ‘Don’t touch,’. Nodding, Polites agrees and spreads the word with instructions on how you want the crewmen to harvest the fruit trees but to keep away from the crop fields. 

“I wonder what you’ve been up to while we’ve been exploring Fair Maiden?” Eurylochus asks, curious about your hidden activities. By now, a majority of the crew have fed back to comment on the things they’ve found about the island, talking about its geography, the landscape, its large variety of vegetation from flowers to overgrown weeds, the path of the freshwater, drinkable rivers, the waterfalls, the large lake and lack of natural threats. This was an island paradise, perfectly safe, as is expected from the island you call home. How lucky they were to have met you and to have landed on your island.

Happy he asked as you were just putting the final touches to the outdoor bathing area, you lead Eurylochus, Odysseus, Polites and some of the crew to the established bathing nook you’ve built. What you show them is nothing like their Greek public baths but it was familiar enough to get their hearts racing with excitement. Bathing in warm waters was always a rejuvenating experience, helping many soldiers with aching muscles and low spirits regain their strength and mental wellness. After their battles and journey, everyone was eager to have a long, hot soak.  

“This is incredible!” Odysseus laughs in his joy, going up to you and fondly messing up your hair, “Did you really set all this up for us?” There were fresh towels in baskets, a nearby waterfall for a cold plunge and three sizeable hot water pools surrounded by heavy rocks. There was even a table provided for their belongings next to an area with alien contraptions and small bottles. Odysseus could only guess that those bottles held the appropriate soaps they needed for a thorough wash. 

Playfully, you nod but huff and cross your arms, gesturing to yourself with a look that says ‘Yes but it’s for me too,’. Your gestures only made Odysseus laugh more, his warm, brown eyes looking fondly at you with a touch of gratitude. 

“Of course, of course, for you as well,” Polites laughs as Eurylochus smiles with his arms crossed, “but I wonder how we should go about using this apparatus…” he points to the shower area you set up on one side, next to the small waterfall — hoping that the association with the waterfall would help them learn that the showers functioned the same way. 

Happily, you demonstrate how to turn the water on and off, doing your best to tell the men to shower first before soaking in the hot springs. You even go so far as to show them the different dispensers for their different washing needs. Everyone has since grown attentive to observing your movements and expressions so it was easy enough to understand which coloured dispenser did what and the order they should go about using them. It was quite novel in appearance but familiar enough that navigation would easily become second nature. Everyone was excited to finally wash the salt off their skin and feel refreshed again. Once they were clear on how things went, you led them out of the area and see if they were satisfied with the privacy the bamboo trees offered along with the strategically placed bamboo partitions. Firstly and most importantly, however, your instructions on how they should use the baths needed to be met strictly. 

“Understood,” Eurylochus voices in his usually strict tone, “I’ll make sure everyone else knows what to do,” gratefully, you nod at him and move to get out of their way but are stopped by Odysseus. 

“Now that you’ve shown us, I believe you should be taking the first bath, Fair Maiden,” he nods towards the showers, “you’ve done so much for my men and me thus far, you are the first of us all who deserves a relaxing bath,” you give him a questioning look, asking ‘are you sure?’. “We’re sure, don’t worry,” he smiles at you kindly before a shout cuts through the tender moment. 

“I will guard the Fair Maiden while she bathes!” a distant hand is raised within the crowd of men, the shout coming out so sudden and loud that it visibly startles you. Seeing your frightened expression, however, gets Odysseus visibly irate and he readies himself to give that particular crewman the tongue-lashing of his life. But before anything can be said, a conflict has already started. 

“No! I will guard the Fair Maiden!” 

“I am better with a sword, I can protect her better than you!”

“There’s nothing to protect her from on this island. I am a great conversationalist, I’m sure she would appreciate the talk while she bathes—”

“Don’t be so stupid, who’d want to listen to your stupid voice while bathing?!” 

Not long into the argument, a fistfight breaks out, but even before that, Polites has already helped you sneak into the baths, making sure you were settled before heading out, promising that he, the Captain and the second commander would take care of things so that you can relax. With a loud shout and a fierce look, Odysseus has the crew behaving again, feeling no sympathy for those showcasing visible black eyes, bruises and swelling cheeks. 

“I expected more of you two,” Odysseus shakes his head at Perimedes, who had a black eye, and Elpenor, who sported two painfully swollen cheeks. Elpenor tried to explain their motivations, but with both of his cheeks swollen, his words were barely decipherable and can be best described as incoherent nonsense. 

“We only fought back because someone dragged us into the fight,” Perimedes explained  before uttering under his breath, “it’s not like anyone else could take better care of our Fair Maiden…”

“Can you really say that after your antics at the boat earlier?” Polities appreciated that the two, at least, had the decency to look bashful. 

“Eurylochus and I will guard the Fair Maiden,” Odysseus announces firmly, leaving no room for argument as Eurylochus stands tall beside him, arms crossed over his chest and making his appendages look all the more muscular — a silent threat to his own men, “Anyone who would like to challenge that is free to prove themselves in a one on one fight with either of us…” obviously, nobody would dare to openly oppose their captain and second commander. “Nobody?… Good, you know your place. Now set up your camps! Polites will supervise you,” Polites nods when Odysseus meets his eyes and happily goes along with his duties, herding the crew away from the bathing area. 

Bathing first really was a good idea. It allowed you to test out the functionality of the baths and provided a rare quiet after days spent with the crewmen. It was so relaxing you didn’t think you would ever leave, but alas, you were getting hungry, and if you were hungry, then the crew were hungry too. You’ll look into your storage for tonight, but tomorrow, you will begin gathering more ingredients again for freshly cooked meals. After your bath, you pull out your wand and easily magic yourself into a new outfit. This one was something you prepared beforehand that matched your new cottage core theme. This outfit featured another custom-designed dress you made. This one was also long and was designed based on the 1804 French evening dress, with a ribbon tied just under your breasts and delicate short sleeves to give you a square neckline. It was a beautiful dress that made you feel like a water sprite. It took you ages to design but, looking in the full-length mirror to one side of the baths, you were happy with the results.

Stepping out of the baths, you greet Odysseus and Eurylochus with a smile, both of whom return the greeting kindly. 

“You look refreshed,” Eurylochus comments with a curt nod of approval. 

“I must say your sense of fashion is very nice, Fair Maiden…” Odysseus’ words make you tilt your head curiously. You wonder where he was going with this, he’s not usually the type to make such comments about your appearance, unlike the other unmarried men of his crew, “Do you suppose you have some similarly styled clothes I can offer to my wife, Penelope?” His words make you beam with excitement, nodding enthusiastically, which makes him grin in return, “You do?! And you’re willing to give them to my wife?” you nod again, “Thank you so much!” 

You wave off the King’s gratitude casually as if you were saying that it wouldn’t be a big deal, and it really wasn’t. It was then, however, that you catch Eurylochus’ shy expression. When you turn to him curiously, Odysseus seems to already know what he wants to ask and has the biggest, teasing grin on his face as you patiently wait for the second commander to explain himself. 

“W-would you be able to do the same for my wife Ctimene?” excitedly, you nod your head as well, instantly wiping away Eurylochus’ worries and making the large, imposing man, grin widely.

Group by group, Odysseus and his crew all take turns soaking in the baths. The only problem after was the clothes they would have to change into knowing that their current attire wasn’t any good. But you had an easy solution to that. Wanting to give them clothing items that seemed familiar, you offered clean Chitons, thankful that you had access to the catalogue from your Nookphone, which was always helpfully tucked away in your back pocket. Conveniently, there was no waiting time needed here, and your orders appeared before you immediately. You save the differently coloured Togas for Odysseus, Polites and Eurylochus to help differentiate them from the rest of the crew members. Odysseus was wearing his signature purple sash, whilst Polites and Eurylochus wore red sashes. Thankfully, you were right to assign the clothing like this, and everyone was thankful for the relaxing bath, clean clothing and the delicious meal you had prepared afterwards: a delicious novel dish (to them) of Fish and Chips. There were satisfied hums and complimentary remarks made all throughout dinner, with everyone taking the chance to look towards you in appreciation at some point in the evening.

“Polites and my crew have informed me of a house on the northeast side of the island,” Odysseus casually brings up as you eat your portion of fish and chips beside him. “Would that happen to be your home?” having perked up at his words, you nod. So your house was still standing… you wonder why your villagers’ houses aren’t, nor the other buildings on the island. “Polites made sure nobody broke in unnecessarily. Tonight, I’m sure you would appreciate sleeping in your home. My men and I have made our camps about the island already, so don’t worry about us,”

You smile at his thoughtfulness and bow your head gratefully, “None of that now,” Odysseus hurries to lift your head, “at this point, we all stand on level ground. You’ve done more for me and my crew than I think you’re aware of,” growing flustered under his high praise, you look away with a bashful smile. Truly, it wasn’t hard for you to do the things you’ve done, you loved playing animal crossing and it’s a joy to experience it in real life, especially when you get to offer the help your favourite characters need at just the right time. It would feel wrong if you didn’t offer your help knowing you had the power to.   

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏���﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

The next morning, you spend your time making fishing poles for everyone so that they can fish for their own meals and help you speed up the cooking. They were all more than happy to help you, and eager to learn from you as well. Elpenor especially; he doesn’t seem to have any technique working in his favour. Perimedes, on the other hand, has already caught his dinner and handed it over to you, but, as a faithful friend, he had vowed to stand beside Elpenor until the hopeless fool finally catches a fish himself. Sometimes, the taller blonde was tempted to pull the fishing pole from Elpenor’s useless hands, impatient in his helpfulness, but wanted his friend to feel the achievement of catching the fish himself first. 

“Are you going to fish with us?” Eurylochus asks, turning away from the ocean to look at you curiously. Several other men were set up close by, also waiting for fish to take the bait. Nodding enthusiastically, you look forward with determination as the crew members look on curiously from where they’re stationed. Odysseus and Polites had already caught their fish, and you had helpfully stored away their catches for them. The two stand by, simply observing and eying your flowing dress curiously. You seem to have a habit of doing chores in the most unexpected attire. They suppose it’s because you are that exceptional — no item of clothing will hold you back from the things you want to do, even if they are long flowing, beautiful dresses. 

“If the Fair Maiden catches a fish before you,” Perimedes begins, playfully jabbing his friend’s side with a sharp elbow, “I would begin to question your masculine prowess, dear friend,”

“The Fair Maiden catching a fish before me doesn’t bring my masculinity into question, Perimedes,” Elpenor huffs with a slight redness in his cheeks, “It only attests to the Fair Maiden’s greatness,” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Perimedes shrugs, and they both watch you from their periphery, as is the habit of every crew member whenever they see you nearby. They just can’t help themselves; you draw their eye easily, and they are weak to beauties like you. Beauties with the kindest heart known to man. They yearn to bring you close but are well aware of their self-deficiencies — no man alive is worthy of someone as fair and wondrous as you. Not even the king himself. 

Not long after you’ve cast your fishing pole you get a tug and everyone watches with baited breath as you fight with the fish at the end of your line. Everyone silently cheers you on until their jaws slacken at the monstrous creature you pull out of the water and proudly present to them, carrying it as if it weighs no heavier than a leaf. 

A whale shark! This will earn you good money when you sell it to Tommy and Timmy. 

“Wh-what sort of ocean creature is that?” Polites asks in disbelief, adjusting his glasses as Odysseus laughs from beside him, clutching his stomach as tears of laughter fill his eyes. The kind had long since abandoned all need to find an explanation for your ‘odd’ behaviour, he’s learned to shrug it off and, instead, find joy in the astonished, jaw-dropped, eye-bulging expressions of his crew members. Never before has he laughed so much, and he has you to thank for it. Odysseus wasn't finished laughing, however, as another wave of surprise exclamations, shock and disbelief flooded his crew when you casually stored away the gigantic creature in your back pocket. 

(From a distance, Odysseus hears another familiar giggle overlapping with his own laughter.)

“H-HOW?!” Perimedes shouts with his hands clutching at his head in disbelief, his eyes wide as his brows have flown to his hairline. However, everyone knows that his question will never be answered as you flash him an innocent smile. You can’t speak; they just have to accept things as they come from you. 

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Savouring the stable ground and the grand scenery of your island paradise, the crew members observe you zipping around the land as if you have all the energy to spare, hitting rocks over and over to draw out raw materials unlike they’ve ever seen anyone else do. It’s as if Mother Nature herself wanted to provide you with everything you need; she was at your beck and call, and it was astonishing to witness. You even manage to draw out solid gold chunks from ordinary rocks, making the crew’s eyes bulge before they furiously rub at them in disbelief. Of course, they don’t confront you about it; it would be extremely rude to do so. They also don’t want their Captain and commanders breathing down their necks about any disorderly behaviour towards you. It’s clear to everyone that you are someone they care very deeply about, and all three have grown especially protective of you, so not only are you the most ethereal being to exist, but you’re also the most protected and secure. 

It was a little scary now that they think about it…

Some of the men have come very close to openly protesting against you, however, especially when several have seen you burying sacks of gold after digging up a glowing area of land a fellow crew member had pointed you towards. Those who witnessed your strange behaviour were very vocal in encouraging you to dig the sack of money back up, but you were adamant about refusing, no matter their sound reasoning. All those men quickly shut up under their Captain’s sharp eyes, their second commander’s growling but firm command to stop, and their third commander’s scary, silent smile. Several days go by, and the crewmen realise that they hadn’t just seen you bury gold coins uselessly but they’ve actually witnessed you plant and grow a money tree. 

As you’ve done many times before, once the tree has grown to its full size, you go up to the trunk and violently shake it to make the three large sacks of money fall from its branches. Before anyone could utter a word, however, you’ve already collected the money and zipped away without a single penny left behind. You were like a greedy little chipmunk, who had looted all the nuts and hurriedly sprinted away without an ounce of remorse at the fact that you left nothing for the others. All the could do was watch with sagging shoulders and depressed expressions as you ran into the sunset, happy with your bountiful haul. 

Sadly, that money tree doesn’t sprout sacks of money again…  

(Distantly, you hear laughter that tickles your brain just right, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.)    

The crew also silently observe as you passionately shake trees every day for sticks and fruit as well as random items ranging from small, miscellaneous trinkets that don’t typically belong on trees to fully built furniture. They’ve all experienced small heart attacks every time, worried for your wellbeing when they see a large piece of furniture emerge from the branches and soundly drop. Thankfully, all items conveniently drop a safe distance away from you. But that’s because you’re the Fair Maiden. They don’t believe they have the same luck as you and it’s deterred a majority of them from shaking trees unless they know what would be dropping down, limiting them to shaking only the fruit trees in your orchard. 

There was a time when you had shaken a tree, and a bee hive fell, sending everyone into an immediate panic as the angry bees rose in anger. Without thinking, Elpenor jumps in the way just as you’ve raised your net, taking the horrible storm of bee stings for you. You fall to the ground with him, holding him close as your apology is clearly expressed in your features, your brows furrowed and tears in your eyes. You want to call him an idiot so badly, didn’t he see your net?! 

…What a loveable fool he was… 

You see that he wants to smile in assurance from where you hold him in your arms but the bee stings make it close to impossible. His lips and eyes are swollen, his cheeks too and his arm and neck! Goodness, everywhere you look there are bee stings! This is much worse than in the game! Frantic, you lay his head on your lap as Perimedes falls to the ground beside you and takes his best friend’s hand in his own. 

“How idiotic can you get Elpenor?!” Despite his words, you can tell the blonde is far from annoyed. Rather, he is more worried for his friend than anything else. 

“The fair maiden was in danger…” Elpenor answers simply, his voice strained but you both shake your heads at him, silently asking that he don’t overtax himself. 

Flicking through your storage, you bring out the bag of medicine you always prepare for emergencies. Usually, you would simply press the ‘take medicine’ option, however, now that this was real life, you were having to reach inside the bag. When you do, you bring out a simple balm, but the case is empty of any instructions or labels. Everyone watches closely as you take some of the balm onto your fingers and spread the ointment over their youngest crew member’s visible stings. All those who are watching, visibly awe at the immediate effects your medicine has on Elpenor. The balm barely stays on for a second to sink in before Elpenor’s injuries completely disappear, his skin no longer swollen, the concerning redness of his stings gone, and his boyish smile has returned. 

“What is this…?” Perimedes asks, eyeing the medicine in disbelief but it had also disappeared along with Elpenor’s injuries. “I can’t believe it…”

“Fair maiden,” Elpenor turns to you with a bright smile, ready to express his gratitude and astonishment but is cut off when you jump into his arms, hoping your tight hug will convey the amount of gratitude you had in your heart for him. He was so brave but what a fool! You hope he never jumps in front of danger like that again!

“It’s okay,” you feel Elpenor gently brush his hand along your back, “I wouldn’t mind taking all the bee stings for you. Especially knowing that you can cure me instantly,” his happy smile can be heard in his words as you bury your face into his broad shoulder. 

“You’re an idiot…” Perimedes laughs as you meet his fond gaze from over Elpenor’s shoulder. You give his much taller friend a look to convey your thoughts somehow and Perimedes nods, “The Fair Maiden doesn’t want you to do that again, so promise her right now or else you will incur her wrath!”

Elpenor laughs bashfully, “I-If that is what the fair maiden wishes,“ he reaches for your hands and kisses your knuckles to seal his promise. 

Those who stood by watching gaze at you in unfiltered amazement. Never before had they seen medicine heal at the rate and effectiveness you have just demonstrated. Every day, they realise just how otherworldly of a person you are. Are you even a person? Maybe they were closer to figuring out your true origins when comparing you to the Gods and Goddesses, after all. 

“None of you are allowed to speak of this to anyone outside of those here, got it?” Odysseus utters, appearing to materialise out of the crowd observing the scene. His sudden appearance startles everyone, but they silently agree with him the instant his words process in their minds. A dark look had overtaken their captain, and it wasn’t one they were fond of. Nobody asked questions, nobody harassed you, nobody stood out of place awkwardly. They know that acting out would only endanger you, making you a target of the gods, much like the way their captain had been targeted in the potential future they were forced to witness through song. There was a silent agreement among them that they weren’t letting anything like that happen again. Not if they could help it. And that means keeping quiet. 

Seeing the amount of things you were doing daily on the island, however, had the crewmen itching to be productive. You understand they want to prove themselves helpful so after you collect the crops, you hand them watering cans to water the crop fields for you, you even teach them to make ingredients such as flour and sugar from the permanent outdoor cooking area you’ve set up. You’ve also helped them use your workbench to create tables and chairs to set up around your cooking area so that food can be eaten more comfortably. Everyone has gotten into the habit of catching their own fish and rationing the fruit so that everyone gets a piece. After only a short time, a functioning routine had been built amongst you, all centred around the chores you would typically do each day about the island but now, you had more people helping you, meaning that you could concentrate on stocking up supplies, cooking good meals for them and creating fun memories of all the wonderful people on Odysseus’ crew. 

Everyone was just doing their part to contribute and make your task of taking care of them that much easier. This was your island, after all; it was the least they could do. If only you weren’t constantly stunning them with your strange antics. At least not any ordinary day goes by. 

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ 

After a week or so spent on the island, you were on the right track to filling up your storage with the right amount of food and ingredients, and everyone had gotten into a good routine. Hermes, however, was just itching to make an introduction. The mischievous god had been observing you for a while. Ever since the rumours began amongst the crew, his curiosity had been piqued, and Athena’s subtle ways of dismissing the gossip only worked at making him all the more curious about you. The messenger god was glad he took the time to investigate you himself; never before had he laughed so much and been so entertained. Despite never having interacted with you, he’s grown a fondness for you already, he delights in your innocent but outrageous displays, leaving the 600 men in your wake with bulging eyes, slack jaws and racing minds that still come slow to comprehend what they were just witnesses to. 

He’s waited long enough, and quite patiently, he’d like to add. It was about time he finally revealed himself to you. And what better time to do so than while the sun sets and you had just said your farewells with the crew for the night, starting your way back home alone? He can’t miss this opportunity.  

“My my, what a beauty~” he coos, doing his best to suppress a giggle at the stunned look on your face when he suddenly floats down from his high perch. “I say, is your name really ‘Fair Maiden’?” seeing the recognition on your face, Hermes flings his luscious, brunette locks over his shoulder with a coy smile, “I see you’ve heard of me~ yes, it is I, Hermes, the God of merchants, thieves, travellers,” his eyes glow a pure white beneath the shadow of his hat, staring at you for one knowing, uncomfortable moment as a large grin occupies the unshadowed part of his face. “And these dashing good looks of mine, of course~” he ends on a cheeky note, winking deviously as you try to muster a smile despite the chill lingering in your spine from his earlier expression. Does he know?

“Of course, I know~” he looks at his nails with admiration, “I was one of the few gods who knew of you the instant you came here,” Hermes flies down, his feet up in the air as he lowers his face to level, leaving only an embarrassing inch of distance between you, “You’re quite the hot topic you know. Athena has her hands full, keeping talks of you to a minimum up in Olympus. I suppose you two have some sort of deal going on between you…” Hermes carefully inspects you as you avoid his eyes. How adorable you are~ So cute! 

It’s not like that…

“Oh? Explain it to me then, pet~” he coos with fondness, reaching up to play with your hair innocently as you try not to get too bashful. Not only was he an intimidating presence, but he had a very handsome face. You can see where Odysseus got his admirable features from. It was in Hermes’ handsome-framing hair, his golden, sun-kissed skin, his charming but disarming eyes, and his pretty lips meant for more than just pleasant words… “Don’t leave me waiting now~ Beauty and sweetness can only get you so far when it comes to wasting the time of a god~” he giggles, leaving his remark suspiciously suspended between humour and a serious threat. 

I- uh… 

“Just kidding!” he giggles into your temple, nuzzling your head affectionately and displaying something similar to cuteness-aggression, “I know you’re only captivated by my gorgeous face, so feel free to take all the time you need in answering me darling~” Hermes wraps his arms around your neck, using you as his anchor to the ground. He continues nuzzling his face into your temple as he kicks his legs in the air like a teenage girl reading her favourite ‘x reader’ fanfiction in bed. Hurriedly stepping away from his dizzying nearness, you take a moment to gather your thoughts, avoiding his teasing grin as you catch your breath. 

Athena and I only share a similar goal. We find that it’s best to work together to achieve it. There isn’t a single bargaining chip put down from either side. You explain in your head as the god nods along, seeming to hear your thoughts telepathically. You suppose all gods have a way of communicating with you. 

“I see~ That’s good! That’s very good actually,” he flies forward, his face inches from your own once again, eager to keep the close proximity as you slowly back yourself into a nearby tree. “That means you don’t have Athena’s blessing,”

N-no, I don’t…

“Fabulous!” Hermes throws his arms up, finally drawing back and striking a celebratory starfish pose whilst suspended mid-air. However, just as quickly as he celebrates, he just as quickly moves closer to you once again, his face so impossibly close that you’re falling into the glow of his eyes and feel the brush of his lips against your own as he speaks, “then I will be giving you my blessing, darling. A great honour, I know~” he suppresses a giggle and affectionately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before placing his palm against the tree trunk beside your head, effectively pinning you in place, “No need to thank me, pet~ But we do need to seal the deal, somehow,” he talks at such lightening speed that you barely have the time to register his words before he’s capturing your lips in his own, his large hands softly holding your face in place and drawing out the kiss for as long as he wishes. You don’t know whether to push him away or deepen the kiss further. 

Wh-why—…?

“All great travellers are mine to take care of,” he explains in a firm whisper, pulling away as he licks his lips and coos at the stunned, flushed expression on your pretty face, “Call me whenever you need, darling! Take care now~” Hermes begins to float up and slowly disappears into the night sky, revealing from behind him another one of your storage sheds.

Hermes had left your brain in shambles and your heart in a dangerous race with itself. You don’t know how long you stayed slumped against the tree that mischievous god had just claimed your lips against but the sunset had long since passed. 

After calming your racing heart, you step up to the shed and curiously look inside. It looked like any other one of your storage sheds but the black void within was more ominous looking… was this Hermes’ doing? Or was it just because it was nighttime and dark outside? 

A sudden nudge in your back makes you fall into the black void with a yelp, and you fall for a moment before dropping forward onto a hard, cold, wooden floor. Looking around, you take in your surroundings and recognise the layout immediately. You’re on Odysseus’ ship, on the top deck, and in front of your open storage shed. This one was the first you had fallen out of and into this world, which you had kept on board, knowing that you just had to look for your home to access your full storage again. And you had plenty more storage sheds to spare, there was no need to do all that moving about. 

Did you just…? 

Rushing to the shed, you hold your breath and throw yourself forward before you have the chance to second-guess your actions. The same blackness consumes you as a rush makes your head spin but, this time, you fall onto soft grass — you’re back at that other storage shed now. Gasping silently, you admire the grass beneath your hands as your heart begins to race at the incredible gift Hermes had bestowed upon you. 

“What’s the latest, Sulky?” a cute voice enters your ears, making you shoot your head up and gasp at the sight of your villagers. They were not the anthropomorphic cute avatars from Animal Crossing that you were familiar with, but stood before you as normal animals— only, they’ve managed to retain their unusual colouring and patterns. 

“Marshal?...”

navi. | series m.list |

next | four. the washed-up stranger →

next | small imagine : you didn't have to kiss her hermes →

a/n : phew~ I hope everyone had a fun read! I loved writing Hermes hehe~ and if anyone's curious, I imagine his design from Zieru's 'Dangerous' animatic on YouTube. Also the villagers will be appearing in the next chapter but I don't know whether to base it off my villagers or take some favourite villagers suggestions... either way we're definitely having Marshal as a villager!

For those of you who are curious about who my villagers are, here's the list for you: Fauna ; Shino ; Poppy ; Filbert ; Marshal ; Chrissy ; Fang ; Boots ; Gaston ; Mitzi

taglist : @bluepanda08 @doodle-with-rhy @sunshinedaisy21 @jolixtreesunn @ellaprime7 @marcelemry @nishayuro @celestialzdiviner (almost forgot the taglist phew~)

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

We need a part two of the harley quinn mother headcanons!

SUGAR & SPICE!

pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Teen! Reader.

(PLATONIC FIC)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ Every mother reaches the moment when she sees her chick starting to become independent from the nest. Harley loved you from the moment she found you in that abandoned alley, and now she finds it hard to accept that you are drifting away.

If she knew why you were leaving her behind, she would probably be thinking about putting Robin in the oven.

warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Trauma.

A/N ── Honestly, I didn't plan on making a continuation of that headcanon, but since you asked (and your requests are sacred to me), here it is! Shoutout to @animequeen4 for the inspiration too!

When you grow up as the child of one of the most notorious supervillains in Gotham, things get a bit complicated. Harley knew this since you entered school, and especially since she separated from the Joker. She had prepared for everything: to protect you from clowns, snakes, and even snakes disguised as clowns. But what she didn't see coming, what truly drove her crazy, was the biggest challenge of all: your adolescence.

Harley noticed it almost immediately. At first, it was small things. Like how you no longer wanted to listen to the music she played at full volume in the lair. Instead, you started listening to your own songs, the ones she described as "unbearable noise." Then came the decoration of your room, which went from posters of heroes and villains to something "weird," according to Harley. “Since when do you like bats so much?” she would say with an eyebrow raised. But what broke her heart the most was when you stopped letting her dress you. She got frustrated every time she tried to put something on you that she thought looked great, and you would just say, "No, mom, I don't like that anymore."

But the worst, the worst of all, was when you entered high school. You made friends. Friends whose names Harley didn't even know. Horrible! For someone like her, who was used to knowing all the details of your life, that was the worst that could happen. And on top of that, you no longer asked for permission to do things! The worst part was that she had raised you "well" (according to her criteria), so she didn't understand how you ended up at the police station several times for vandalism and disturbances.

"I raised you better than this!" she would shout, completely indignant, while signing the papers to get you out of another detention. Inside, she knew you were going through that rebellious phase, but that didn't make it any easier to cope.

One day, Harley stood at the door of your room, frustrated because you didn't even ask her for help with your math problems anymore. She stared at you, her hands on her hips, and exclaimed, “Look, little birdie, I get you! I know you're growing up and all that, but can you please stop doing it so fast? You're slipping through my fingers!”

It was a mix of desperation and tenderness. Harley wasn't ready to see you grow up. She knew you were becoming more independent, but in her heart, you would always be her little one. And even though she got frustrated with all these changes, with every new friend or every time you snuck out to go to a party, deep down she just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Puberty was a roller coaster, and Harley was starting to realize that nothing in her villain life had prepared her to deal with it. The first thing she noticed was that you no longer wanted to go out with her for taco Fridays with the girls. Those days when they went shopping, wore neon clothes, and had laughs while window shopping stopped being your thing. Harley watched you from the doorframe, taco in hand, saying, “What happened to my buddy? Where's the kid who loved to eat until stuffed full of carnitas?”

Sometimes, Harley tried not to take it to heart, but it was hard. She crumbled a little every time you locked yourself in your room instead of watching her roll around on the sofas with the Birds of Prey or with the Sirens, planning their next crazy scheme. It was then that she realized she needed help. So, as a good mother (or as close as she could get), she turned to the only person who could understand her frustration... Catwoman.

But the chat with Selina wasn’t exactly helpful. “Harley, sweetheart, I don’t mix with kids. I don’t know what you want me to tell you, mine has four legs and purrs,” Selina said, taking a sip of her martini while checking out a new leather whip. It was a "thanks, but no thanks," and Harley left with more questions than answers.

Next stop: Ivy. Harley had high hopes that Ivy, with her serenity and green wisdom, would give her the key to understanding you better. But Ivy just shrugged and said, “Plants grow, Harley. Just like kids. You can't stop the natural process.” Harley frowned. “And what do I do when they doesn’t want to tell me who he's with all day?” Ivy, very zen, replied, “You could always... spy ” It wasn't exactly the help she was looking for.

After exhausting her resources with the girls, Harley did the unthinkable: she turned to Batman. Yes, Batman! In a conversation that turned out to be as awkward as it was effective, the Dark Knight explained to her what he had learned from raising his multiple Robins: “It's part of growing up. You just have to be there, but give them space. You can't control everything.”

Harley, of course, took it with her usual dramatism: “Give them space!? But they doesn’t even want to go for tacos anymore!?” It was as if the world had turned upside down.

Meanwhile, at school, things weren’t going smoothly either. Your new “friends” were... questionable. People that Harley, if she had known, would have kicked out. But, for your luck (or misfortune), those friends didn’t last long. In the end, the problems they brought with them distanced you from them, and unexpectedly, you found yourself spending more time with Damian again. Harley, of course, had no idea about this. To her, Damian was just the rude boy you sometimes talked to.

There was always something about him that intrigued you, and despite his constant grumbling and "I don't care" attitude, you managed to see beyond that. Between talks about anything (and often about nothing), Damian became someone important to you. Harley had no idea about this mini romance, because if she did, she would probably already be plotting a plan to scare the Wayne boy. “If you think he’s cute, go for it,” she had once said with a mischievous wink. And although she didn't think you would take it seriously, here you were, emotionally entangled with Batman’s son, even though at that time you didn't know he was Batman's son.

It all started with an idea that, in retrospect, wasn’t the best: throwing paint cans at Robin. In your defense, it sounded like a funny prank at the moment. What you didn't calculate was that Robin, being Damian Wayne, wasn’t exactly easy to evade. You ran as if your life depended on it, covering almost twenty kilometers, and the most frustrating part was that he wasn’t even sweating. Every time you turned to see if you had lost him, there he was, impeccable, with that unfriendly look and his expression of "When I catch you, say goodbye to your legs."

When he finally threw you to the ground, ready to give you the lesson of your life, you looked at him more closely. That perfectly styled hair, that look of a thousand deaths, and the sarcasm in every phrase... "Damian?!" you shouted, more out of disbelief than fear. Because, of course, it turns out your boyfriend wasn’t just a rude jerk, but also the damn Robin. The pieces finally fell into place, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or feel betrayed. In the end, you did both.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he reprimanded you with that authoritative voice he usually reserved for criminals and his family. "Throwing paint? Seriously?"

The funny thing is that, even though you were completely exhausted from the chase, your brain didn’t stop working. So instead of apologizing like a normal person, you shrugged and said, "At least it wasn't green paint. That would have been offensive." He didn’t find it so funny.

From that moment on, the romantic dates became something much more... practical. Damian decided that if you were going to get into trouble, at least you should know how to defend yourself, so starry night strolls turned into intense self-defense training sessions. "Nothing says 'I love you' like a well-placed punch," you thought every time Damian corrected your stance. And although at first you considered it the least romantic of gestures, there was something sweet about how he insisted on keeping you safe.

Of course, these "dates" weren’t just training. Eventually, you met Jon Kent, the super-sweet boy who contrasted so much with Damian's serious personality. The trio you formed was a disaster waiting to happen, yet somehow it worked. Between secret missions, night escapades, and 'lots of fun,' the three of you became inseparable. But it was all super secret, because if Batman found out, well, the reprimand wouldn’t be exactly gentle. And Harley... well, don’t even think about what Harley would say if she found out.

But Harley, being Harley, didn’t take long to notice the changes. For her, it was alarming to see how her kid, her little birdie, was starting to come home late through the window, with two colors in his hair that reminded her a bit of her own lifestyle, and some bruises that you, of course, tried to hide. "Did you fall down the stairs again? Seriously?" she would ask skeptically while helping you tend to your wounds.

Her biggest fear wasn’t that you would get into minor trouble, but that he would have come back. Harley began to suspect that the Joker had found you, and that kept her in a constant state of alert. She watched you more closely, trying not to show it, but it was obvious. Nights with Damian always seemed to fly by. Between training, talks, and that connection you both shared, the hours slipped away without either of you noticing. That was how it happened that one particular night, after a long and exhausting session, he decided to walk you home. Not that you needed it, you were perfectly capable of getting home on your own (or so you said), but Damian liked to make sure you got home safely. Plus, it was an excuse to spend more time together.

It was already four in the morning, and you were ready to say goodbye with a kiss when suddenly, three giant hyenas sprang out from under your bed, and Harley, in full ninja mode, dropped from the ceiling with a baseball bat in hand. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

You had to close the window, leaving Damian outside, to prevent your mom and the hyenas from getting to the "mom, chill," you tried to calm her, putting yourself between them. "It's not what it looks like."

"Oh no! It looks like you're turning into a mini-Harley with a boyfriend and everything, and I'm not going to sit back and watch how they break your heart like that stupid clown broke mine!"

But you managed to slow her down, and with Harley calmed down (more or less), the tension of the moment seemed to dissolve, but she didn’t stop there. The next morning, she showed up at the Batcave (Only God knows how she found the Batcave), furious, and ready to confront Batman for allowing his son to "seduce" her little birdie. "What kind of father lets his son stay out late with my kid?! This is unacceptable!"

Bruce, who was busy with his screens, barely looked up. He listened to Harley’s furious monologue while maintaining his typical calm posture, nodding from time to time. When Harley finished, he just raised his thumb calmly, as if giving his approval. "Damian has good taste," was all he said.

"That doesn’t help me, Bats!" Harley exclaimed, frustrated. But Bruce, in his minimalist style, simply added, "You... should spend more time with your kid, Harley. Don’t worry so much. And if you need help, just let me know."

Harley was left speechless. It wasn’t the response she expected, but deep down, she knew Batman was right. She sighed and, resigned, left without more than a warning for Bruce: "Just because you told me that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you with my bat if things go wrong."

But the truth is that as Harley made her way home, she reflected a little. You were growing up, and although she didn’t like it, it was part of life. You couldn’t be her little one forever, and while the fear of losing you was always present, she knew she had to trust you. After all, she had raised you well (in her own way), and now she could only let you fly a little, like that little bird she often mentioned.

Back at home, she found you lying on the couch, still with some paint in your hair from the prank on Damian. Harley watched you for a while, noticing how much you had grown. Not just in height, but in attitude. The way you had started to move through the world, making your own decisions, forming relationships outside the little universe she had built for you. And that, even though she sometimes denied it, hurt her a little. She sat on the edge of the couch, sighing as she stroked your messy hair.

Harley noticed it before anyone. First, you stopped getting excited about taco Fridays with the girls or going out to dye your hair neon. Then, it was the uncomfortable silence when you no longer sought her advice for anything. You had become more independent, but Harley only saw you drifting away.

Harley sighed and looked at you with a mix of nostalgia and worry. “You’re growing up... and even though I hate it, I know I can’t stop it. I just want you to know that you will always be my little birdie. No matter how big you get, you will always have a place with me.”

You stayed silent, noticing how difficult it was for her to say it. Harley had been many things, but she had never stopped being your mother. You smiled at her and nodded, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. "I love you too, mom. I promise I’m not drifting away, I’m just... growing."

Harley gave you a tight hug, and in that moment, you knew that even though everything might change, you would always find that common ground, whether it was stealing marshmallows or just sharing a night under the stars. "Puberty sucks," Harley joked, and for the first time in a long time, you both laughed together.

As the hug lingered, you felt how the outside world faded away, leaving only Harley and you in a bubble of safety and love. "I’ll be here, always ready for you, even if sometimes I’m a little... crazy,” she replied with a soft laugh. “But you know that’s what makes everything more fun, right?”

You nodded, and inside, the worry you had felt about drifting away from her faded. There was comfort in knowing that even though the road ahead might be complicated and full of challenges, you had a beacon lighting your way. A mother who, with her craziness and unconditional love, would always guide you home.

"Let’s promise to do more things together, then," you said with determination. "No matter if it’s stealing candy or painting our nails bright colors. There will always be time for that."

"Deal," said Harley, raising her pinky as if sealing a pact. You smiled and linked it with yours. The connection you shared was stronger than any challenge you could face.

"And when it’s time to face the world, I’ll be your ally," she added, a spark of determination shining in her eyes. "Because we will be a team, always."

After that, everything changed, but for the better. Learning to divide your time between everything you loved wasn’t easy, but you knew you would succeed. After all, you had the strongest support: that of your strange yet endearing family, that of your partner, and above all, that of the best mother you could have ever dreamed of.

A/N ─── Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to request anything, don't hesitate to ask. I read all of your comments and questions!

Take a Bath!

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic Yan! Dick Grayson w/ batsis darling

A/N: I'm sorry. I love crazy Dick. WHat can sayyy..

concept: You instantly don't take a liking to Dick. Something about him makes you uncomfortable. He's obsessed with being your favorite sibling and making you love him back...even if he has to wring it out of you. (Any version of Dick)

Warnings; Obsession, intimidation and possessive behaviors

Requests: always open. please read pinned post/masterlist

Masterlist

Yandere Dick is a good big brother. He still finds time out of his hectic life to spend with all of his siblings. He remembers all of their interests, a shoulder to cry on and an overall positive reinforcement for the bunch. When you first got in the family, everyone told you over and over, just how perfect he was. There was no better brother than he.

But would i be wrong to say i love the idea of Dick Grayson having a vicious temper? I mean it's hidden perfectly behind is charming smile and good-willed nature.

From the moment you met him, you never truly felt at ease. There was just something off about him that set off alarm bells in your head. You didn't feel safe...you didn't want to be alone with him. It was a guilty feeling seeing as everyone else took to him so well. He was more than welcoming to you so you didn't know why you felt this way.

Dick could sense your unease with him, much to his dismay. He didn't like that one bit. It pissed him off really. In what world someone didn't like him? especially one of the little brats Bruce waddled in. You need to feel comfortable with him, he's a perfectionist that takes nothing less.

Yandere Dick Grayson is obsessed with being your favorite sibling. He's achieved it with all the others, you're no exception. But you avoid him at every single turn. Literally. You've rejected movie nights, dinner invitations, gifts, and other kind gestures. His self worth is rather outward and you're hurting him very badly right now. Why can't you see that? stop being difficult and love your big bro.

As time progresses you can see more cracks coming through. The others cannot possibly notice a flaw in him but you see it all. You know he's eager to be close with you but your body just won't let you. He terrifies you. Especially when you are hanging out with another sibling or texting them.

You don't ever reach out to him. You don't care about him like you did with the others. Why don't you care? You ghosted ever message he's ever sent you. He constantly asks if you're okay or if you want food but you just cannot be bothered to reply. To you it's a trap. You're scared if you give him an inch that he'll run a mile. (which he would)

He becomes visibly irritable with you. He'll grit his teeth through his stunning smile and his seemingly playful words laced with venom. They're soft enough that the others brush it off but you can read between the lines. Other times if you're eating family dinner, and he's upset with you chatting it up with someone, he'll serve you last and the least amount of food.

Dick's last resort was to just forcefully get you alone together for a brother-sister bonding experience. He tricked you in saying the others were meeting at a pizza place after their patrol and offered to drive you over since he was about to leave. You get there, awkwardly sitting at a booth alone with him. He's trying his best to strike up a conversation and patch things up but you're completely silent. You barely even look at him, your eyes are constantly scanning the room for your siblings expected arrival. Hoping one of them would come and save you.

To his glee, you had eventually spoken up but only to ask when the others were supposed to arrive. His smile dropped and the blood in his hands could’ve burst out from how tightly his fists were clenched.

This is his tipping point. You ignored him all this time and the second you decided to speak up it's about them? Something switched in Dick.

It was a strange sight to see. His eyes eyes were completely glossed over and dilated with a murderous intensity. They're wide as they shot through you. His jaw tightened as he thought about how he wanted to hurt you like you're doing with him. You wanna play mental games with him? So be it. He should torture his love right into you. He's got a perfect method aaaalll picked out. You're giving him a run for his money and he's all out of it.

"Jealousy is endearing, don't you think?" His tone was deceptively playful, you knew he was anything but happy at the moment. The unease in his demeanor was enough to cause you to shift in your seat and lean back against the plush of the booth's backboard.

You hesitantly questioned what he could've possibly meant by that to his reply of,

"I just understand your game now. You enjoy making me jealous, it's fun to you. This is all a playful ruse to get more of my attention?...Right?” He shook his head and let out a deep, twisted chuckle.

“You didn't have to do all of this, baby bird. I would've made more than enough time for you had you asked. But i forgive you, if that's all this was?" He leaned in over the table, inches away from your face. His brows furrowed and the intimidation from his eye contact was enough to make you crumble. He was a dangerous person, capable of so many things. He would physically hurt you or his siblings but he’ll find a way to make sure he was number one.

The honest answer to his question was No, this wasn't a game. You just didn't like him. That was all.

But you knew what this was. He was giving you a way out before he gave into the thoughts swarming his mind. There was only one right answer. Give up the gun, say yes, and embrace your brother. He only wants a relationship with you. He's the best there ever was at his job so please, stop being a hard-ass and love him back...

[honnelander]

go fish! part 3

here we are everyone! we made it guys! the much anticipated part 3 of the go fish! mutual pining series!! i cannot express enough how much this series means to me and that i am constantly blown away with how much you all love it too. it amazes me every day. i hope this lives up to the hype and that you all love it. and don't worry, there will be a part 4! disclaimer: i tried tagging everyone that had asked but a few users don't come up when i try tagging them, so i'm sorry :(

WARNINGS: none

word count: 4k

pairing: opla!sanji x jealous!reader

summary: reader sees Sanji get cozy at the bar with someone else and you get jealous as hell. Zoro sees the whole thing.

prequel part 1 part 2 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera @chexmixtrys @princettecharlie @amitydoodlez @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @abracarabbit @commanderfreethatdust @lordbugs @sweet-little-nothings @geisterfvhrer @kenkenmaaa @dazaisfavgf @fan-goddess @shadydeanmuffin @cherrypie5 @sauceonmyshorts @hhighkey @gimmebackmyskeeball @he4vens-ang3l @selcouthaesthetics @sapphireonline @dory-98 @redskull199987 @teenyforestfairy @acupnoodle

It really shouldn’t bother you...but it did. You couldn’t help yourself. Sanji wasn’t even yours, he never would be, and yet...you couldn’t help the wave of jealousy and annoyance that crashed over you every time he would be a little too friendly with other women. (At least, too friendly by your standards and, of course, you thought your standards were pretty reasonable.) 

But Sanji wasn’t even yours (he never would be). You weren’t his wife or his girlfriend, hell, you were only just crewmates to each other, so there really should be no reason why you felt as angry and jealous as you did. 

That still didn’t stop you, however. In fact, it just enraged you even more and you didn’t know why. 

It was just a stupid crush you had on him, right? So why did it bother you so much when he would cast that perfect smile of his towards someone else? When he would wink at another woman and say some suave innuendo that he would never say to you? Or even touch their shoulders or give a hug to someone else when he’s never even touched or grazed your arm or shoulder by accident before? 

“If you stare any harder at that glass, it’s going to shatter from all the daggers you’re giving it.” 

You blinked, looking up from the drink in your hand and to the left, only to see an ever calm and nonchalant Zoro take a swing of his beer, keeping his gaze towards the bustling nightclub/bar you all were currently visiting.  

It’d been a couple of weeks of straight sailing on the open ocean and everyone on board was going a little stir crazy, even the ever-happy-go-lucky Luffy. So, when the Going Merry’s captain had smelled a whiff of food in the air midafternoon up on the masthead that wasn’t Sanji’s doing, everyone had collectively decided to follow Luffy’s nose and see what lied ahead.  

After a half hour of sailing, you all had stumbled across another ship-like restaurant that, admittedly, even looked better than the Baratie. So, it was an easy decision for the crew to decide to dock there for a couple of hours and give Sanji the night off from making dinner, much to the chef’s annoyance.  

But it had all turned out to be the right decision in the end, apparently, since Sanji had made a point to visit the kitchen and give his compliments to the chef. 

Now, all of the straw hats had made it to the outdoor bar area to ‘drink the night away’, as Usopp had so jovially put it, and you’ve been here ever since. 

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, looking back at the nearly full drink you had in your hand. “Very funny Zoro. You know, you should quit piracy and be a standup comedian.” 

Your green-haired crewmate turned his face to you with an unamused expression. “You’ve been nursing that drink all night.” He arched an eyebrow. “You ok?” 

At that question, your eyes immediately went to Sanji, who had been at the bar for a majority of the evening, chatting with the bartender but, of course, as if on cue, another gorgeous girl slinked right up to him, batting her eyelashes and ever so casually rested her hand on his bicep, sliding it all the way down to his forearm as she giggled at something the chef said. 

Sanji, on the other hand, flashed the new woman, the tenth this evening at least, you thought sourly, one of his dazzling white smiles, leaning forward slightly as if he was telling her some sort of inside joke, causing her to laugh louder and place her other hand on top of his. Sanji’s smile only grew wider. 

You couldn’t help the stab of pain your heart felt at the sight. 

“Never better,” you replied to Zoro bitterly as you quickly downed your drink. 

His gaze didn’t budge. “You don’t look fine.” 

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out Captain Obvious,” you quipped sarcastically under your breath, stealing another glance at the object of your affections. He was still chatting with that other woman, and you couldn’t help letting out a small breath as you felt the familiar sting of jealously deep within your chest.  

God, it hurt. It hurt so goddamn badly, and you didn’t know why. 

Zoro followed your line of sight and when he saw the Going Merry’s cook at the end of it, he hummed to himself, hiding his sly smirk behind his beer as he looked back at you. “Sounds like you need another drink then.” 

“I guess so,” you sighed, sitting up and leaning over to grab the bottle of liquor that sat in the middle of your small table to refill your glass when Zoro stopped you. 

“Nuh-uh,” the green-haired swordsman said as he put the heel of his boot on the table to block off your reaching hand. “If you want a refill, then you have to go to the bar,” he explained, nodding his head towards the bar, and, coincidently, Sanji. “This bottle is mine.” 

“What?? Aw come on Zoro,” you whined. “I don’t want to go over there.” 

“Oh? Any particular reason why not?” 

It must’ve been the liquor, because you could’ve sworn you heard a knowing tone laced in his voice but when you looked at your friend, he looked as nonchalant as ever. Maybe you were imagining things. 

“No,” you lied, your cheeks heating up slightly.  

“Good,” Zoro said, taking a long swing of his beer, finishing it up and slamming the empty bottle on the glass tabletop lightly. “Then when you’re up there, get me another beer.” You opened your mouth to protest again but Zoro spoke before you could. “Since, you said there’s no problem.” 

Shit. You were backed into a corner. And the only way out was to go up to the bar and be face-to-face with Sanji. 

You looked back towards the crowded bar and felt another wave of emotion come over you. But these feelings were hard to discern. The pair was still talking at the bar, the woman still being a little too touchy towards him for your taste. You sighed slightly. Maybe when you got over there, he would just ignore you, since he was so engrossed in conversation it seemed. Part of you didn’t know if you wanted that wish to come true or not. 

“Alright- fuck it, whatever,” you grumbled as you snatched your empty glass and made your way to the bar, leaving a smug Zoro alone. 

As you made your way across the small dance floor and towards the bar, you felt your heart fill with dread with every step you took. You prayed to whatever God was out there that Sanji didn’t notice you but, of course, when you neared the bar, you noticed that the only open spot was behind him. 

How fucking perfect. 

“One beer and a refill please,” you quickly ordered, handing over your empty glass to the bartender.  

 “Y/n?” 

Your heart clenched at hearing Sanji’s voice. Why did you think, for even a moment, that Sanji would ever ignore you? The man seemed to always notice you no matter what, even when no one else did, so why would he ignore you now? 

But you couldn’t look at him. “Oh, hey,” you quickly greeted. 

Sanji, however, didn’t miss a beat. “I didn’t think you were a big drinker,” he commented curiously, turning his body fully to face you, leaning against the bar, and unintentionally removing the woman’s grip on his arm.  

“I’m not,” you answered, casting a quick glance up at him. 

The blonde chef blinked in confusion, his brows pulled together slightly, but before he could question you further, his ‘date’ for the evening quickly made her presence known. 

“Sanji?” the woman called out sweetly, stepping to the cook’s right, placing her hand on his right bicep and the other on his shoulder as she looked up at him with a coy smile. When she looked down at you, however, you could see the look in her eye that was anything but sweet. “Who is this? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” she commented, tilting her head in fake misunderstanding.  

Immediately, both you and Sanji straightened up, shaking your heads quickly. 

“No, no, she’s not my girlfriend-” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you both denied simultaneously. 

You quickly looked away from them, hoping to hide the rush of embarrassment that crashed over you and, to be honest, the sting of his quick rejection. It was just another reminder, you thought bitterly, that even though Sanji always acted like a complete gentleman towards you, you weren’t his girlfriend. He was just being nice, like always, and he would never like you how you liked him. 

You looked down at your hands, quiet for a moment as you knocked a knuckle against the bar top. “No,” you said after a beat. “We’re not dating.” 

The woman blinked, clearly unfazed by your admission, like she expected nothing less. She still had a fake look of curiosity on her pretty face. “Oh, right! Of course not,” she laughed slightly, in a way that made you feel small. “You must be one of the straw-caps then, right?” 

“It’s straw-hats, actually,” you bit back, straightening up and turning to face this jerk of a woman, chin up high, sending her what you hoped was one of your meanest stares. This girl could be mean to you all day if she wanted to, you didn’t care, but you’d rather drop dead than to ever let her bad mouth Luffy and the wonderful pirate crew he put together. “And yes, I am one of them. I’m a pirate,” you stated proudly.  

Sanji must’ve been drunk or stupid, because he didn’t seem to pick up on this girl’s bad energy. “Don’t you remember, darling,” he started, sending the girl a small smile, “I was telling you about my crewmates?” 

“OH right!” She hit her head in an exaggerated manner. “I remember now, pookie. You said there were two girls on your crew, an orange-haired map girl and another one...” she trailed off, tapping her pointer finger on her chin like she was deep in thought. “Oh!” she exclaimed brightly and looked down at you, her smile sweet as candy but her words as sharp as a razor. “You must be the potato girl!” 

Whatever air of pseudo-confidence you had was immediately snuffed, her words quickly cutting you down to size. “The- the what?” 

“Yeah, don’t you like potatoes or something?” she laughed, acting like it was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard.  

And to her credit? It definitely sounded stupid if you didn’t know the context behind the story. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to fight the urge to either cry or deck this girl in the jaw over her making fun of such a special moment between you and Sanji. 

You opened your mouth, ready to shut her shit down when she beat you to it. The next words out of her mouth immediately sucked the air out of your lungs. 

“Or is just because you look like a potato?” she asked, laughing her about ass off as she lightly hit Sanji in the chest, keeping her hand there, expecting him to laugh along with her but Sanji just stiffened at her side. 

You, however, were too busy keeping your breathing under control and trying your hardest not to cry to notice Sanji’s reaction, or lack of. You could feel red hot shame bloom across your chest, the heat crawling up your neck and flushing your face as you looked down at the floor. 

Normally, another girl calling you ugly would sting, sure, but not cause you to literally break down in tears on the spot. So why now? Deep down, though, you knew exactly why. It was because of Sanji. She had literally called you ugly in front of Sanji, the person you had a major forbidden crush on, and what if Sanji just laughed along and agreed with her? You didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it. If he did, you would have to quit the straw hats because there was no way you could ever look at him again. 

Not wanting to wait and see what his reaction would be, you started shaking your head, ready to mutter up some lame excuse to get the hell out of there when you felt an arm snake around your waist and a warm body press against your side, pulling you against them. 

“Now, Madam, I don’t think those are the right words to describe the most beautiful woman in all of the four seas now, is it?” a deep, familiar accented voice asked from above you. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as you whipped your head up towards the voice with wide eyes, only to see the ever-beautiful Sanji look down at you with a small, soft smile, his eyes full of wonder and another emotion you couldn’t decipher, as you felt his thumb rub small, comforting circles on your right hip.  

His look and touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t tell if he was acting or not. Your heart hammered in your ribcage as you searched his eyes for a lie, but all you could find was the truth, strong and unwavering, staring right back at you. 

“I said: is it?” Sanji repeated himself, tearing his eyes away from you, looking straight on at this awful woman with his eyebrows raised slightly, like he was daring her to say something else. 

Clearly not expecting Sanji to rebuke her as blatantly as he did, the woman started sputtering. “Well, I- I didn’t mean it like that, Sanji-bear, really-” 

The blonde man raised his left hand in the air, immediately silencing her. “Yeah, I gotta be honest- I highly doubt that, sweetheart.” 

At his condescending tone, you saw the woman bristle and nearly foam at the mouth, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. She huffed, looking back and forth between you both for a moment before scoffing and shaking her head in disbelief, saying, “I knew it. I fucking knew it.” She looked Sanji dead in the eyes, glancing at you, her eyes filled with hatred, before taking a step closer to Sanji, filling in the gap between them, as she whispered something into his left ear before stalking off and leaving the bar without another glance. 

You quickly looked up at Sanji as she was whispering into his ear, confusion apparent in all of your features. Whatever she said to him, you couldn’t hear since they were both taller than you and the woman wore the highest heels you’ve ever seen, but whatever words she had spoken had left the chef completely stunned because you felt his body become rigid, the comforting circles his thumb was rubbing on your hip stopped, and you saw the muscles on his face freeze as he kept his stare straight ahead.  

“Sanji?” you call hesitantly, instantly forgetting your own muddled emotions as you looked up to your heart’s desire. “Are you ok?” 

At the sound of your voice, you felt him relax. He let out a little laugh (it sounded fake to you), as he looked down at you with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of, of course. I am.” But as quickly as he looked at you, his attention was stolen by the bartender placing your order on the bar in front of you. “Thanks, man,” he called out, removing his arm from around you and stepping away to grab your drink order.  

Instantly, you missed the warmth he provided. You felt cold all of a sudden.  

You shook your head once, clearing your head of those thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to analyze things like that. “Sanji-” 

“How are you feeling?” he asked with his back facing you, beating you to the punch. When he turned to face you, drinks in hand, any trace of inner turmoil was gone. His eyes, instead, showed concern for you. “You know you’re beautiful, right?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning your face before looking back into your eyes. 

The look in his eyes nearly took your breath away. For a moment, you had completely forgotten what he was referring to. “Uh, w-what?” 

He must’ve mistaken your confusion for disbelief because his next action nearly stopped your heart. “Oh, my love,” he started softly, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. He placed the drinks on the bar, freeing up his hands, and placed them on either side of your head, along your jawline, as his thumb rubbed your cheek soothingly, his fingers gently entangled in your hair. Sanji gently tilted your head upwards, so your eyes connected with his, and the look on his face was filled with such tenderness and radiated a warmth that touched your soul. His gorgeous, tanned face filled your entire field of view, and you could feel his minty breath fan your face.  

When the hell did he get so close? 

You felt your cheeks heating up at the proximity, your eyes tried to look at anything but his crystal-clear blue ones. Your brain was sure to short circuit if you didn’t get ahold of yourself. You were going to do something incredibly stupid if you didn’t get space immediately. “San-” 

“Y/n,” he said, his tone soft yet commanding. “Look at me, love.” 

Your heart rate skyrocketed and you felt your breathing quicken. God, you could feel yourself getting a panic attack and you didn’t even understand why. There was nothing more you’d rather do more than look at Sanji but you didn’t know if you had the strength to do it.  

You placed your hands on top of his wrists, fully intending to peel him off and push him away, mumbling, “Sanji, I can’t-” 

“Please.” 

In an instant, you looked into his eyes and what you saw nearly made your heart stop. His gaze was so intense, so piercing, his blue eyes seemed like they were staring directly into your heart and soul. Could he feel your rapid pulse through his fingertips? 

When you locked eyes with him, you saw his soft smile grow. “You, y/n, are the most gorgeous woman to ever sail the four seas. You are the most beautiful woman in the world, I promise you that.”  

With each word out of Sanji’s mouth, you could feel your heart breaking and it was dawning on you as to why. 

But Sanji continued, his eyes sparkling. “And I'll be damned if I’d ever let that horrible woman make you feel otherwise. Alright, Missus?” 

At the nickname, you let out a shaky breath and quickly blinked back tears. It was right then you knew, you knew it from the depth of your soul, just like you knew for certain that the sky was blue and the earth was round: you loved Sanji. You didn’t just have a crush on him anymore, but you were completely head over heels in love with him. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, which might’ve been your heart, because you realized that even though you loved him, you could never have him. He was your crewmate, your friend, another one of the straw hats. He was someone that you promised yourself you would never cross “the line” for. Who you vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t risk anything for feelings-wise because you didn’t want the rest of the crew to suffer if you both didn’t work out. 

But despite all of that, it didn’t make the truth any easier to swallow because now you were stuck. You were stuck with your stupid feelings and all it did was want to make you cry. You should’ve been happy right now at this sudden realization but no, instead all you wanted to do was go hole up in your room and sob. 

And besides, Sanji would never return your feelings anyway. 

“Y/n?” Sanji repeated, a hint of worry laced in his tone the longer you kept staring at him unblinking. 

You quickly blinked, unable to stop a few tears from escaping your eyes, but managed to hold back the rest. You tried your best to fake a smile for him, but you could feel your lips quivering. “Sanji,” you breathed but quickly cleared your throat. “That, that was beautiful.” You looked at him in the eyes. “Thank you.” 

At your thanks, Sanji’s whole face lit up and he winked. “Ah, anything for the Missus.” 

The blonde cook didn’t make an effort to move, however. He kept his hands on your face and with each stroke of his thumb you felt tingles shoot down into your stomach (and to other inappropriate places), and felt goosebumps erupt across your skin.  

You had to get out of here. 

Carefully, you squeezed his wrists and slid your hands over his, gently prying them away from you, pulling them down and giving them one last quick squeeze in appreciation before dropping them. “Thank you, Sanji,” you repeated softly. You looked towards the bar, at the two forgotten drinks placed there, because you just couldn’t look at Sanji right now. “I, uh, should go bring these over to Zoro.” 

“Of- of course. Right. Mosshead is probably quite pissed off at us but, ah, who cares what he thinks.” Ever the gentleman, Sanji went to reach for them. “Here, let me help you-” 

“No!” you quickly intervened, grabbing them like it was a pot of gold. “No, no. I got it. Don’t worry about it. You should, uh, stay here and keep talking to the bartender. I think he was looking for you,” you lied and without waiting for his response, took the drinks off the bar, leaving a crestfallen Sanji standing there, watching you walk to Zoro and then, promptly, out of the nightclub altogether.  

As you walked over to your green-haired friend, your legs felt like rubber and that you would collapse at a moment’s notice from the sheer weight of your thoughts. You, however, were so far gone that you completely missed Zoro’s Chesire cat grin.  

“You and the waiter seemed pretty cozy over there, huh?” Zoro jabbed, his arms resting on top of the seat cushions and knees spread out like he had no care in the world. “I thought you guys were going to kiss or something for a minute there, but instead-” 

“Shut the fuck up, Zoro,” you practically growled at him as you put his beer and your glass on the glass tabletop with much more force than necessary.  

The swordsman lifted his hands slightly along with his eyebrows. “Whoa, hey now no need to-” 

Instead of taking your seat back and sitting back down, you started walking past him and towards the exit without waiting for his response. “I’m heading back to the ship.” 

As Zoro watched you leave, a clearly drunk Usopp slid in right next to him, gnawing on a toothpick, watching you as well. “Daaamn, Zoro,” the slingshot shooter drawled loudly, leaning against his crewmate and completely disregarding the other man’s personal space. “Did you see Sanji and y/n? I thought they were going to- pft, start making out or something!” Usopp exclaimed as he waved his hands in the air, mimicking an explosion and two people kissing. “Do you think they know they like each other?”  

Zoro hummed, watching your retreating form and then looking towards the dejected waiter, who looked like a kicked puppy. “I don’t know Usopp,” he replied, leaning forward to grab his beer and take a swing. “But if they don’t tell each other soon I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.” 

“Yeahhh,” Usopp agreed, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at the swordsman better. “You said it- oh! Is this drink taken?” he asked, not waiting for Zoro’s response before taking the beverage and sipping on its straw.  

Zoro shook his head with a small smile. Sometimes his friends were too predictable for their own good. He just hoped that you and Sanji would start being predictable soon so you two could finally be together and put everyone out of their misery.  

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ you're still a traitor : criminal minds x fem! reader [ pt. 1 ]

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader (unrequited) | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: being in love with your boss was hard. especially when there were so many factors surrounding you that made the possibility of being with him, out of the question. for starters, there was your age gap, and hotch was a stickler with baggage that he couldn't quite disclose to you. hotch was a fantasy, always out of your grasp, that is until emily dies. in the four months that followed emily's death at the hands of ian doyle, you found yourself living a life that you'd only ever dreamed about. hotch was careful, but the proof was right in front of your face as he went out of his way to care for you while you grieved. how stupid of you not to realize something was horribly wrong. but now emily was back, and hotch was back from reassignment in pakistan, and you were all on trial, and absolutely nothing makes sense except for the bitter understanding that you were a pawn in a game that in so few words was "way bigger than you." but at least you had spence.

content warnings: this is literally a barrel of angst. reader breaks the skin of her palms with her nails. mentions of slight! anxiety. follows the plot of "it takes a village" aka the iconic "this is calm, and it's doctor" episode. flashbacks x present day! spencer has been crushing on reader for as long as she's been crushing on hotch. hotch is NOT romantically interested in reader. slight! hotchniss vibes (but that's up to your interpretation. jj x reader angst! reader does not react to emily's return well. mentions of unit transfer / bureau resignation. spencer confesses to reader... open ending making room for a part 2! heartbreak, drinking, crying. best friend! penelope garcia + derek morgan. reader has a sister & niece.

read part two right here.

Your leg shakes violently as you sat just outside the court room, hands balled into tight fists as your nails press deep into the callousing skin of your palms. You couldn't say you were nervous, as far as the previous case was concerned you'd done everything you could to save Declan. You'd take whatever suspension they'd throw your way without batting an eye. You didn't regret the part you played, no, you just regretted the team that you were apart of.

It had been a crazy seven months. You remembered when things turned left, back when Emily started acting weird. She was shorter, snappier, she had less patience with any of you. Long gone were the days of wasting your time with jokes and innuendos. She had a lot on her mind, a lot none of you were privy to, and you remembered how you'd stretched yourself. You'd all tried so hard to show her you were there, to let her know that you could be trusted.

Your face contorts into a scowl, it had become your new resting face in the last few weeks. God, you hated how stupid and naive you'd been back then. Now that everything was out in the open, it was almost too obvious where the deception began. What was the point of taking care of people who had no trouble treating you like some disposable pawn piece to be moved to fit their whims. Damn. You were crying again, you'd been doing that a whole lot too lately.

You scrub furiously at your face, and you hate your teammates a little bit more. JJ had gone first, face devoid of any timidity or uncertainty. Long gone were the days of Jennifer Jareau the Liaison, she was a profiler now, one of you. When she'd come back, you'd been ecstatic. The unit hadn't been the same since she was transferred, you'd missed her so gravely. But now, now the sight of her just reminded you of the secret you'd been holding on the tip of your tongue.

Hotch wasn't the only one who had known about Emily.

You feel a hand moving to rest on the top of your thigh, and you flinch violently. You sniffle audibly, eyes moving to rest on Penelope, your God-given solace. Your best friend. She, Derek, and Spencer were the only ones who wholeheartedly understood what you felt. But even still, Hotch hadn't used their feelings to make them blind, the way he had done with you. He'd played you like a goddamn fiddle, and you'd let him. Because you were weak, stupid, grieving, and in love.

Hotch had never been in the cards for you, not that you weren't beautiful, gorgeous, an amazing agent. You had the stamp of approval of both Agents Gideon and Rossi. Erin Strauss had been (by your request) rejecting every request of transfer any other unit had tried to offer. You were an asset to the bureau, and a major part of this team. You'd been around since the beginning. You'd witnessed doe-eyed Spencer Reid join at age 23, full of facts and anxiety.

You'd seen Derek blossom and break out of his play-boy persona, and become someone that other branches of the law fought to have. You'd been around for so long, you'd witnessed so much, and Hotch knew that. Which you suppose is what you allowed yourself to believe was the reason he'd never shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. He was respecting your future, leaving your options open. But those were the delusional musings of a girl in love with someone she can't have. Hotch wasn't into you, and you knew that.

So why, why, why did you let him convince you of the opposite? For even one measly second? And, yes, of course in the grand scheme of things you understood why he did what he did. But it didn't make it hurt less. In fact knowing his duty to Emily outweighed his duty to anything else just made this whole ordeal feel more like a slap to your face. Penelope gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, and you're pulled from your running mind. You blink, registering her worry.

"Are you alright?" she asks, and it's the first time anyone's asked you that since the first day. You know they were giving you space to cope, which only seemed to reaffirm your feelings of betrayal and loneliness. "We'll get out of this, alright? And we'll-we'll be able to be a complete family again." she proceeds, and serves you right for believing someone understood what was going on. They'd all misunderstood you. They thought your behavior was fear of the team being dismantled. Some profilers you were surrounded by.

"I'm fine, Garcia." you say, and you can't bite the snippiness if you wanted to. "I just want to get this over with, and get the hell out of here." you add, and you're standing up, Penelope's hand dropping limply as you move your seat. You find a more isolated corner, plopping back into the uncomfortable seat, as the legs squeak slightly. Your leg is back to shaking, only now you've taken to chomping on your bottom lip. You don't imagine Penelope's hurt expression, you know without a doubt that you'll cave. And you can't.

Not this time.

Your phone chirps in your pocket, and you jump once more. Your jumpiness was a new attribute triggered by the amount of sleep you hadn't been getting. Pulling it out you see that it's a call from your big sister, and you curse under your breath. You were supposed to be watching your niece so your sister could pick up an extra shift. None of you had really expected for things to go this far.

"Hey..." you wince, because you can hear the heaviness of your feelings ladled over your words.

"Hey, are you alright? I got a call from Spence." and you're surprised. You look up, searching for the brunette anywhere in the vicinity, and find that he hasn't shown up yet. It's a bit of a shock, especially for someone as punctual as Reid. You did however spot JJ still meandering about, and she's not looking tense at all. Despite your anger towards her, you couldn't deny that she'd quickly fallen into the role of a profiler. It fit her almost like a glove.

"Spencer called you?" you ask, and you hear the tension in your sister's sigh. You imagine that she must be exhausted. Your sister did a lot, and managing a blossoming family was hard. Your niece was five, and she had a new addition to the family on the way. Which was why it was so important for you to be there on the days she needed you to watch your niece.

"Yes, he said something about..." your sister lowers her voice. "Emily." she questions, and you find your head nodding despite the fact she can't see you. "Are you alright?" she asks again, and this time she emphasizes how important it is for her to hear directly from your mouth the state of your wellbeing. Your sister seemed to always see right through you, it was a wonder she wasn't the one in the FBI.

"I'm-" you trail off before you can lie. "I'm sure if they could they'd disband the unit." you whisper, and you look up just as Derek is exiting the court room, Penelope looking terrified as she takes his place. Derek scans the room before he spots you, and his eyes soften. JJ approaches him and the two seem to chat animatedly. Still they look so serious, there was no room for smiles and banter today.

It's not long though before they're looking at you again, and you know that they know. Your self isolation wasn't something you were exactly being subtle about. You immediately look away, focusing in on what your sister was saying. "Bad decisions or not, they're no good without your unit." she says, and pride still manages to swell up inside of you. "You guys do good work. You work because you're together, everyone plays their role." she proceeds, and it's then you shatter.

Play your role. What role exactly did you play? Hotch was the stoic leader that somehow seemed to play the role of pseudo-father so well for every member of the team, with the exception of Rossi and Derek. Derek, was the shoe-in for promotion. The older brother who teased you relentlessly, but would fight til his last breath to protect you, and he always did. JJ, the pretty girl. The one who everyone on the team at some point had been attracted to. But more than that, she was resilient, a subtle glue that kept your unit running.

You quickly slot through everyone else's roles in your head, and huff. What were you except the odd-woman out. The dummy with a crush on your unit chief, and too much knowledge for your own good. You supposed that was why Hotch had to distract you with exaggerated gestures. If you got out of your feelings and really thought about it, you knew that if anyone on the team was going to see through the smoke, and uncover the truth about Emily, it would be you.

So he had to handicap you. What better way than by hanging the possibility of a romance in your face. Still, it was cruel. Just more proof that this was not the family you made them out to be. "Yeah, I'm not so sure." you reply, and you can hear how disgruntled you sound. It smacks you like a ton of bricks, and it's then you truly realize just how hurt you were by everything. Your sister sighs deeply, and it makes you second guess yourself. Were you being irrational? Unfair?

"I know what Hotch did." she begins, "And it was awful to play with your feelings like that." she expresses, and you feel validated. "And nobody's expecting you to just welcome Emily back with open arms after months and months of thinking that she was dead. You were deceived, and I want you to feel however you want, okay?" she says, and you don't respond, mostly because it feels rhetorical. "Just don't do anything rash without thinking it through alright?"

You don't know what she means by that so your eyes roll. "I think we're well past that, if they find us guilty I could lose my job." you remind her, and she chuckles. You don't find it funny, you can't. Your love for the job outweighed a lot of things, so it had been a no-brainer to help Derek seek out Ian Doyle. You wanted his head spinning on a pike, and you weren't planning to take no for an answer.

two weeks prior.

You were sitting across from Derek, steaming mug of coffee in your head that was more french vanilla creamer than anything else. You held the staged photograph of Declan and Louise. Derek's holding an identical photo, a heady sigh escaping him as you both rack your brains for some sort of bullseye. Something that would point you right in the direction of Declan. "Okay, Emily needed to get Declan a new identity." Penelope says as she walks into the office. She sits in the chair right beside you, arm full of stress balls and files. "So she must have used someone that she trusted." she proceeds.

"Alright, well that's a short list, but it's probably not even written down." is Derek's tired reply.

"Even if it was, she's been so many places, with so many different points of contact. " you speak up, and you take a sip from your coffee, praying it kicks in and wakes you up a bit. "It's not gonna be super easy to track and narrow them all down." you say, and you realize your mistake just as Penelope is placing a file in your hands.

"Oh, tell me about it. Two columns, domestic and imports." she says as she passes the other to Derek, who's looking at you with an amused smile stretched across his face. Serves you both right for underestimating the genius of Penelope Garcia. "I accept your apology, cutie." she says, leaning into you as you grin, smacking your lips in a kiss.

"Hey." JJ's at the door of the office, all three of you turning to look her way as she beams brightly. "Have you guys seen, Spence?" she questions, and you remember how you'd offered to bring him a coffee as a respite from the garbage water they served in the bullpen. He'd shut you down politely asking to reschedule as he was going to be spending his day at the Firing Range. You understood the need, he wanted to protect himself, and the team. He had to get better.

"He's at the firing range." you and Penelope speak in unison, making eye contact, as hers narrow. You knew instantly she would have questions about why you of all people knew Spencer's whereabouts.

"Again?" JJ questions as you shrug your shoulders, her eyes flitting towards you.

"Ever since Prentiss died, he..." Penelope speaks your thoughts.

"Right." JJ nods her head. "Uh... did you guys just get a new case?" she questions, hands clasping together in front of her.

"It's just an old one." Derek answers.

"Do you want some fresh eyes?" she asks, and it's painfully clear that she's still figuring out how to feel more like the team again.

"Not just yet." Derek denies, and he's polite, but you knew why he was being this way. You were all for keeping anything related to Doyle under wraps until you were further along.

"Ok. Um, well let me know." she hums, and then she looks back at you. "Y/N, can I..." your eyebrows raise as she trails off. "Can we talk? It'll only take a second." she hopes, and you look to Derek and Penelope for a moment.

"We won't do anything big without you." Derek promises, and you nod, closing the file, and handing it off, before you stand to your feet. You follow JJ out of the office, and down the hallway, stopping just before you reach the heart of the bullpen. You look to her expectantly, a bit confused, but not on edge. You had missed JJ, and in the two months she'd been back, it'd been pretty hard to get some real time with her. You'd hoped a break in the case would help to change that.

"Everything okay, Jaige?" you ask, and you witness how she exhales in relief right in front of you.

"God, it is now." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. She seems to understand the confusion on your face as she lets out a chuckle, dispelling more of her own tension. "You've been calling me Agent Jareau since I got back... not JJ and definitely not Jaige." she explains, as it seems to register for you. "I guess I was just a little worried I'd done something to make you mad at me." she admits, and she's clearly sheepish.

"Oh." you chuckle yourself, and you reach out to hold her shoulder. "No, you've done nothing wrong." you promise. "I've just been a bit in my head these last few weeks, but I'm really glad you're back." JJ beams at your words, and all the remaining tension in her posture dissipates instantly.

present day.

"Hey, everything alright?" you look up, pulled from your thoughts at the presence of Spencer Reid. He's holding a medium cup of a steaming liquid that you can only assume is coffee, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "I remember you asked me a few weeks ago about coffee." he holds it out, and you're quick to press your phone to your shoulder, neck craning slightly as you take it.

"Thanks, Spence." you mumble, and you can practically hear your sister's smirk from the other line. "Could you just give me one second, I'm talking to my sister?" you question, and Spencer nods his head, eyes widening in understanding. You smile politely, and he beams back at you, pretty eyes seemingly brightening before he's making his way over to Derek who's smirking like the nuisance he is.

"Hey." you mumble once he's gone, and your sister is snickering. For some odd reason she'd been dropping hints that maybe the guy on the team you should be setting your sights on was Spencer. To your defense, it wasn't like he wasn't attractive. You'd be an idiot to deny his boyish charm and good looks, but after he'd sat you down and admitted he had a crush on JJ, back during his second year, you'd sort of blocked any potential attraction towards him out of your head.

Now he was just Spence.

"Hey, I should go. I just wanted to check in, Spence made me aware of everything so I've got everything figured out on this end." she promises you, and you nod once more despite yourself. "Just think about what I said, alright? It'd be a shame for you to leave behind such a good job." she finishes, and you don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. "Call me later?" she questions, though you know she's telling you more than asking.

"I will." you reply, and she sounds pleased as she exhales.

"I'll talk to you soon." and then the phone is clicking. You adjust your grip on your coffee, using your free hand to grab your phone, and place it down on your lap. The coffee smelled good, it was from that cute shoppe that sold different pastries and always smelled like cinnamon. You'd been there with Spencer and Penelope a handful of times, and they always made your coffee exactly how you liked it. Still, Spencer had never ordered for you so you await a mishap.

The first sip warms you up instantly, and you're knocked flat on your ass by how on point the drink was. Your eyes snap upwards, looking across the lobby towards Spencer, who's awkwardly sitting in a seat, Derek beside him. JJ was gone now, but you figured she was probably with Hotch and Emily, the three of them had been attached at the hip since the team was "back together". You're certain them being gone was what led you to standing to your feet.

You walk towards Derek and Spencer quietly, slipping into a seat next to Spencer as Derek leaned up against the wall. "I didn't know that you knew my coffee order." you whisper, and Spencer turns to look at you. He offers a half smile, you were certain you'd be passing a lot of those back and forth until the court proceedings were done with.

"Of course I do." he shrugs his shoulders. "I pay attention when you talk." he promises, and you wonder why he had to like JJ, and why you had to like Hotch. On paper, and off paper Spencer Reid was the perfect candidate for boyfriend, plus he never pretended to be into you to keep you from finding out the truth. You both fall into silence, there's not much else to say, but you let his words repeat in your head. I pay attention when you talk. It makes your stomach twist.

"You alright over there, pretty girl?" Derek's voice barely reaches over a whispered volume. It seemed you all were feeling the dreary aftershocks of an ordeal like the one you'd found yourselves in. You look up at Derek tiredly, and you don't understand why he's asking you this, not until you feel the scalding heat of hot coffee singing your skin. Two sets of worried eyes are drawn to your cup, it's squished in your palm, brown liquid streaming everywhere.

"Shit." you hiss, and the cup falls to the floor, you're quick to clutch your burnt hand. God, you were really torn up over this.

"I'll get this cleaned up." Derek promises, and he looks at Spencer as if he was communicating something he didn't want you privy to. Spencer falters, only for a second before he's reaching out for your forearm, and guiding you to your feet. You trail after him, walking down the long corridor, listening out for the telltale sign that Penelope was done, and they'd be calling you next. On your route you pass JJ who looks concerned as she looks between the two of you.

"Spence, Y/N?" she says, and you avert your gaze, you're not sure if you're more angry or embarrassed.

"Sh-she spilled some coffee." Spencer explains, but he doesn't stop walking. "Shouldn't be more than a first degree burn, if she soaks her hand for five minutes, everything should be fine." he is passive as he speaks, eyes never quite meeting hers as he continues to lead you.

"Let me take her." JJ offers, and both you and Spencer are quick to offer denials. She looks hurt but masks it quickly. "It's not like you can go into the girl's bathroom with her, right?" she says and it's then you both realize you've got no other choice. He looks to you, trying to gauge how you'd feel about it, and you sigh. Maybe this was for the best, you could finally get things off your chest with JJ. It was only fair. He seems to clock the instant you've decided, and concedes.

"I'll be right out here." he promises, and you nod slowly. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't get the chance to.

"Spence." JJ says his name a bit more sternly, and he resists the urge to cut his eyes in her direction. He ignores her long enough to take in your ailed hand, he saw the way the skin began to redden and swell. He seems cross as he passes you off to JJ, and you feel a bit silly being fussed over for something as minute as a coffee burn. JJ's earnest in the way she takes you to the nearest women's restroom. You hiss the second the cold water comes in contact with your skin.

You don't say anything to JJ though, losing your nerve the second the two of you were alone. She looks like she's waiting for you to say something though, eyes brimming with some sort of unease. She was reading you, using her new skills to profile you. You suppose that's exactly what pushes you to finally speak. "We said we'd never profile one another." you remind her crossly, and she's sheepish. "Just because you're doing it in your head doesn't make it any less invasive." you keep your wrist in place, hissing silently.

"If you would just talk to me I wouldn't have to go that far." she counters, and you blink. Fair, but you had every right to keep your distance from her. Just because the rest of the team was still more or less unaware of JJ's role in harboring the secret of Emily, you'd read right through her.

"What's there to talk about exactly?" you ask. "None of us want to be here dealing with this." and you take the route of the naive girl.

"I'm not talking about with the trial... and the senators." she shakes her head, and she's almost pleading as she tries to catch your eyes in the mirror. "I'm talking about Emily." she deadpans. "Everything that happened?" she proceeds. "You've hardly said a word to her since she came back." she doesn't want to come off like she's scolding you, and so she takes in a breath before her tone can become defensive.

"I don't speak to ghosts." and it's a quiet little dig that she hears all the same. It forces a tense silence to wash over the restroom, the only sound slicing through the awkwardness is the water rushing from the spout. JJ clears her throat, blinking a few times as she adjusts your wrist, allowing the water to evenly coat your burn. Only a few more minutes of this and you could make your grand escape.

"That's not fair." she finally voices her thoughts with a deep sigh.

"Isn't it?" you snap. "Seven months we thought she was dead." and you suppose that was a mistake of hers, getting you started. "Pretty lucky that you were off at the Pentagon, right?" you ask sourly. "Or was it lucky that you were in on the whole scam? I mean you were at the funeral, but you didn't have to cry, you didn't have to grieve." you accuse, and JJ's jaw slackens, clearly surprised at your outburst.

"I lost my friend too, okay?" she counters and you scoff.

"Did you?" you argue. "All those nights I called you crying, all those texts, those check ins... how long did you know Emily was still alive?" you demand, and JJ's feeling cornered, and her heart rate is picking up. She knew there'd be mixed feelings about this, but she'd never expected to ever be at odds with you. You, Spencer, and JJ rounded out the younger crowd on the team, it was your job to stick together. "Answer me." you insist, and you sound so crushed as you speak.

"I knew the whole time." she answers, and you nod your head, because of course you already knew.

"Exactly." you sneer. "You're a liar." you hate how angry this whole thing makes you, but you can't deny it. They'd played with your feelings, all of them, and now you were meant to behave like nothing was wrong. "Did you know about Hotch?" you ask, and JJ flinches. She doesn't answer for a while, and the water seems to rush even louder in your ears.

"I told him it wasn't smart." she finally answers. "But we needed to ensure that Emily wasn't at risk, it was harmless... just some flirting to keep you from getting too close to the truth." and JJ is speaking as if this wasn't some major breach of your position as coworkers and alleged friends. "He'd never cross the line." she reminds you, and the reminder that yeah, Hotch would never be with you makes you wince.

"And he didn't." she says this like she knows for certain. "It was flirting, Y/N. it didn't mean anything, we just needed you to..." and she trails off when she sees how destroyed you look at her admission. "Y/N..." she trails off, and you inhale sharply.

"Don't." you exhale, and you snatch your hand from her grasp. The cool air of the bathroom immediately attacks the welts blooming on your hand. You don't have time to pay them any mind.

"We just wanted to protect you... and keep Emily safe in the process. The more of us that knew Emily was alive, the more of a liability we'd be while Doyle was still on the run." she says, and you suppose in the grand scheme you understand. As profilers, as special agents working for the FBI they'd done great work. As your friends, as people you'd considered family for years... they'd betrayed you.

Plain and simple.

"Congratulations, you did exactly what you meant to." you say dully, and you sniffle, though no tears are set to come. Instead you feel more anger blossoming in the pit of your gut. "I hope it was worth it." and it's dramatic, but you deserve the dramatics, sidestepping the blonde and leaving her behind just as Emily is stepping inside. She looks at you wide-eyed, before she sees JJ standing there seemingly frazzled.

"Is everything okay?" she questions, and you don't offer her an answer, instead leaving the restroom as your earlier words ring in your head. I don't talk to ghosts. And you don't, and despite your history you'd never allow yourself to. You find your way back to the seats that led to the courtroom, Derek was gone, the only person still there was Spencer. He stands up as soon as he hears your shoes.

"Where's Derek?" you ask quietly.

"He left with Garcia." he answers quietly. "I guess they're dismissed for now. They're in with Dave now." he explains, and your eyes shift to the door. More than likely you or Spencer would be next.

You sit down, and Spencer follows you, sinking back into his seat as his legs just barely brush against yours. "Are you scared?" you ask, and Spencer's head shakes.

"Are you?" he shoots back, and you look away from the door.

"Not of this." you admit. "But of what comes after." you add and Spencer's pretty brown eyes are swimming with confusion. "Can we really all bounce back from something like this?" you ask, and it's rhetorical, but he answers you all the same.

"We've come back from worse." he reminds you, and that faint smile is worming back onto your face.

"Sure we have." you agree numbly. Spencer's eyes drop to your hand.

"How does it feel?" he asks, and you follow his gaze with a shrug of your shoulders. He doesn't look pleased by this approach, and it makes you sigh.

"Just feels like I ran some water over it." you admit, and Spencer chuckles. "A bit anticlimactic if I'm honest with you, Doctor." and you're partly teasing, mostly because it's so easy.

"You'll need some sort of petroleum jelly... there's some pretty good products that aren't at all carcinogenic like the leading brands." he begins on a tangent, and it makes you smile a bit bigger. "That with some gauze is the perfect remedy for such a mild burn." he proceeds and you look down at it. There's a moment of silence between you, before he's talking again. "Can I ask what happened?" he whispers.

You hum, almost like you're pretending you can't hear him.

"With the coffee? Was it not good? I tried to follow your order exactly." he says and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"It wasn't you or the coffee, Spence." you promise him, and without thinking you reach out, small hand resting on his shoulder. "The coffee was perfect." you insist, and he relaxes, but not enough. "I guess I'm just thrown about all of this." you proceed. "No matter how much I try to remind myself that they did this to protect Emily... that their deception was for a good reason, it just makes me angrier. Why is it that I have to rationalize being angry?" you question.

"I have to reign my feelings in for the sake of the team." you're careful not to grow loud. Spencer's eyebrows are pressed inwardly, head shaking.

"You don't." he denies you quickly. "You shouldn't." he corrects.

"You're right." you agree, and your silent for only a second. "I wish everyone could be like you, Spence." you say, and your words surprise him. He feels this familiar wave of adoration that always seems to swallow him whole whenever he was around you.

"Really?" he knows it might be pathetic, to be hopeful for something like this. The chance to hear what popped in your head whenever you thought of him.

"Yeah." you say firmly, and he tries not to look too eager. "You're so smart." you tell him, and he knows this, but it still feels nice hearing it from you. "And you're always nice to me." you add with a quiet laugh. "And you'd never lie to me would you?" you ask, and in truth, it's not a fair question. Spencer wasn't in the position the others were in.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and he fears it may be the wrong response. You don't even react, at least not that he can tell.

"Nothing." you settle on, head shaking from side to side. "Forget I mentioned it." and he doesn't really want to remind you that his memory quite literally makes that impossible. "I heard that you weren't fighting the suspension." you say conversationally, and he's surprised, mostly because the only person he'd told about that was Derek. Which meant you had been talking about him when he wasn't around.

"I guess I just stand by everything we did." he tells you, and your hand still hurts a bit, but it's definitely a problem for a later version of you.

"Me too. I'm glad we got Doyle, and Declan's safe." you exhale, and despite your anguish towards the team, you meant every word.

"And the team's back together." Spencer himself doesn't sound so convinced. You look over at him at this, your own unconvinced expression slowly cracking through his attempt at a cool facade.

"Is it?" you ask, and Spencer's face softens, a small little frown taking over his otherwise usually content face. He couldn't admit it now, mostly because it didn't feel like the right time, but he paid attention to you. He knew all about your complicated feelings for Hotch "I don't want to be on a team with people who purposely keep me in the dark about things." you ask, and Spencer pauses.

"I'm sure they wouldn't if they had another choice." he offers, and it's not how he feels at all, but it's what you need to hear.

"You don't believe that." you deny, and Spencer can't fight his chuckle. "Or maybe you do, you've always been good at seeing the best in people."

"Oh, do you think so?" it's a bit of a surprise. With your job description it would've made more sense for you to tell him that he saw the worst in people. He felt it was a fair thing to say that he was exceptionally good at his job, but it's then he recognizes what it is you're truly saying, or at least alluding to. It makes his face heat up immediately, cheeks blossoming a rosy red that makes him want to roll his eyes.

"Of course." you promise, and then you're looking at him again. Your face is one of the prettiest he's ever seen, and it's not even subtle. You seem a bit uncertain of your own allure though, which to him is a major shock. "You're like the best person ever." you add, and he expects you to snicker or show some sign that you were joking, but you don't. Bad for him, because his deluded mind full of fantasies starring you would take words like those the wrong way.

"I think you're the best person ever..." he's whispered this, but you hear it all the same, and he's lucky enough to witness the way your entire face morphs. Despite the bleariness in your eyes, you beam brightly. He hates though, that you start to cry. It starts with one tear slipping down your cheek and dripping into your lap. The onslaught comes right after, and before you know it, you're choking on sobs.

"God..." he hears the bitter tang of self-loathing that attaches and weaves itself into your otherwise honey-filled tone. "You're making this so hard, Spencer." you huff, and you scrub at your face harshly. He doesn't understand, but he's too frozen in place to ask you what you mean. Lucky him, you seem to know that you've got explain a bit, so you do. "I'm gonna resign." you say this quietly, sniffling as more tears fall. Spencer feels like he's misheard you.

He wants to have misheard you. He flounders a bit, and he's mentally scolding himself, because he has to hurry the fuck up and say something. "You can't!" and he's scolding himself again for sounding too eager. You jump a bit at the outburst, and he winces right along with you. "We just got everyone back." he reminds you, and you exhale, head nodding in understanding.

"I know." you promise him. "Why do you think this is so hard. You think I want to be the asshole that turns the unit on its head?" you ask. "But I can't stay here and pretend that everything's fine... or act like I don't feel thrown about all of this." you proceed, and of course, Spencer understands, he's upset he was lied too as well.

"I understand." he admits with a sigh, and you let out a quiet noise of relief, almost like you were worried he'd be upset with you. He assumes this is just him being delusional again. You look like you have something sitting on the tip of your tongue, so he stays silent to give you the room to say all that you need to.

"Have you ever had feelings for someone?" you ask. You chuckle at the look he shoots you, "Not just for a second, Spence." you proceed. "I mean like... take your breath away, kind of almost-in-love feelings." you indulge, and Spencer's keen to shut his mouth. Yes, is the loud and resounding answer that rings in his head, because foolishly he'd allows you to captivate him like the siren you were almost three years prior. He'd be a dummy to tell you such now though.

"I-" he blinks harshly, eyes feeling too dry. "I can't say I have." he lies, and he remembers your words from earlier, how you'd praised him for being someone who would never lie to you. You don't seem to notice his deception though, and if you do, you're too in your own head to comment on it.

"Good." you say with a shuddered breath. "They're nothing but a headache, especially when the person doesn't want you back." you exhale the words, and it's like a dagger is being lunged into his chest. How dense could you possibly be with all your super smarts?

"Did something happen with Hotch?" he asks, and now it's your turn to be embarrassed, face pinching up as you choke on a breath. "I don't mean to pry, if it's personal... it's just that-" he trails off, seemingly waiting for you to berate him or tell him to back off. You don't, instead your nose twitches, and you begin to look at your shoes. "Y/N?" he nudges you with his elbow, and it's light.

"No." you finally say, head shaking. "I thought maybe..." you trail off, more embarrassment slicing at you as you cringe. "But it was all a ruse, just a way to keep me from getting too close, and figuring out everything about Emily before they wanted us to know." you say and Spencer's eyebrows furrow.

"They?" he pries, and you look at him like he's silly.

"Hotch and JJ." you answer plainly, and it takes Spencer a second. JJ who he'd went to for comfort for ten weeks? He blinks at you, and you shrug. "So you see... anyone that could take my feelings and use them to manipulate me... are they really worth sticking around for?" you ask, and Spencer doesn't want to validate you in this way. He wants to be selfish, he wants you to stay on the team.

He thinks about how devasted everyone would be. How devasted he would be to walk into the bullpen and find that your desk was empty.

"I don't want you to go..." he admits, and it's quite pitiful, the sadness that soaks the words like gasoline. You find yourself chomping on your lip again, nails pressing into the cuts of your palms, and Spencer's catching your bad habits in real time.

It's a bit invasive, the way his hand surges out, and stops you in your tracks. "Please don't do this." and you're not sure if he's talking about leaving the unit, or if he's referring to the gashes littering your hands. When he holds your palm out flat, and rubs his thumb across the bleeding indentations, you find that you understand quickly.

Every few seconds it's ebbing with more droplets of blood, and he's quick to wipe them away like they offend him. Just as he's moving to say something else, the doors to the courtroom are opening, and Dave Rossi is exiting, his eyes immediately on you and Spencer. You must look foolish, hands intertwined as you stare wide-eyed at the team's senior agent. It's probably why Spencer is dropping your hand as you're snatching it away from his grasp.

You still find that your eyes are quick to appraise one another. He's looking at you, and you're staring back, mouths parted as if you'd been caught. Had you been caught? Had there really been anything to catch? You don't have time to answer, because you're being called next. You frown at Spencer, standing to your feet as he feels his pulse threaten to leap to disrespectful speeds.

"Y/N..." he calls after you, and you stop for a second. Eager eyes fall back on him, and he's trailing off, because the look in your eyes says it all. If you got out of this without being fired, you could imagine a world where quitting the FBI no longer made you sick to your stomach. Silence befalls the space, and he shakes his head after a beat. You look disappointed but not surprised, inhaling deep and audibly as you march towards the court room.

Spencer doesn't know what you're going to say, but he hopes recalling all you'd been through in the last few weeks will be enough to make you stay. At least until he has the courage to ensure that you leaving the team doesn't equate to losing you entirely and completely.

[florencebirdsong]

Can I request jealous Agatha x fem reader? Reader and reader’s friend aren’t doing nothing even remotely romantic, Agatha is just over analyzing everything they do together and driving themselves crazy over it

Thank you so much for this request!!! I really hope you enjoy the way I wrote it <3

Staying In

Agatha Harkness x Reader

summary: when you insist on going out with a friend who is clearly into you, Agatha takes matters into her own hands

tags: red flags with hints of mutual obsession, Mistress Agatha, sub Reader, jealous Agatha, magic bondage, light impact play, overstimulation, fingering

authors note: suspend your disbelief for not having a crush on Darcy. I’ve had to as well 😔

she/her pronouns used to refer to r

ao3 | masterlist

You’ve decided that Agatha is being silly. Mainly because her being insecure feels impossible. You aren’t into Darcy. You have never been into Darcy. It’s never even crossed your mind. Something Agatha is well aware of and yet she insists that something is there. At least on Darcy’s end. Which you highly doubt since she would have said something during the decade you’ve known her.

“It doesn’t matter,” you finally snap at her. “Despite what you may believe Agatha, I am my own person. I’m going to go to a nice restaurant with my nice friend and have a nice, platonic night with her.”

Agatha’s face goes blank in a way that makes you nervous. It turning into a slow smirk has you shifting on your feet. Agatha is rarely wrong. It’s a fact that you usually enjoy. Right now it’s too hard to think of your best friend seeing things differently to accept it. Plus, the fact that you have zero interest in Darcy and Agatha has made her claim very clear should defuse things. And yet.

“It’s not what you think, Agatha,” you insist.

“Of course, dear,” she says with that same deadly look and you swallow harshly.

You have to look away otherwise that traitorous warmth inside you is going to take over your rational brain. It’s not fair that she still has such a strong effect on you when you’re frustrated with her.

“I think I’ll retire to my lab for the night,” she says, already turning. You enjoy your nice night.”

You fight the urge to follow her and instead watch her go quietly. That had been a little too easy, especially with your earlier claim. You’re both well aware of how deeply Agatha owns you.

You only debate with yourself for a moment before moving to get ready. Your and Darcy’s schedules haven’t lined up enough for a proper meal for weeks. You’re both busy enough it’s likely to take even longer for them to line up again. You can survive one night of Agatha’s wrath.

—————-

Every other item you try to use disappears. It starts out subtle. Some things not being where you thought you left them, others being in odd but not impossible spots. It escalates until your perfume disappears right out of your hand.

“Agatha!” you finally shout in frustration.

Of course, you don’t get an answer. She’s three floors away. Not that it stops her from watching you but she so does love plausible deniability.

You’re about to rummage through her own drawers (more to make a mess than anything) when her personal perfume bottle appears in a little puff of purple smoke right in front of you. You huff a laugh. Of course.

You don’t try and refuse it. Or deny how much you want it. Every bit of Agatha entices you. Her scent is no different. Even if the perfume doesn’t quite contain every hint of her, it’s enough of a reward for her to use it against you often.

It’s hard to concentrate with her scent surrounding you but it’s something you have to contend with every time you’re around her. You have enough practice to still complete your goal, just not without thinking about her every time you take a breath.

Since Agatha has yet to bind you to the bed, you believe you’re consequence free, at least until you return home. Then you reach the door. The handle turns but the door doesn’t open. You try to flick the lock but it doesn’t move. Frowning, you try to tug it free but it’s too small to get a good grip. It jiggles a little but remains stuck. It’s weird and annoying but nothing Agatha can’t fix. Later. It’s not the best idea to go down to her lair while you still want to leave.

A thought crosses your mind but you don’t genuinely believe it until the back door does the same thing. She really has locked you in. You prefer it when she throws you into bed and traps you there. Huffing, you wonder if it would be too crazy to go out the window. It feels too crazy, and a bit silly. You aren’t a teenager anymore and this is technically also your house.

Instead of creeping out of a window, you creep down the stairs to her basement. While the house may equally be yours, Agatha’s lair is entirely her own. It’s a dangerous place for anyone that isn’t Agatha.

She’s standing at one of her benches, going between a book and some vaguely-witchy item in her hand. You risk a few steps inside.

“You locked the door.”

“Did I?” Agatha asks neutrally, not bothering to look up from what she is working on.

“I could be wrong,” you shrug casually. “If I am then you’ll have no problem forcing it open.”

“I’m very busy, dear.”

“It’s very convenient for both doors to be stuck on the night you don’t want me to go out.”

Agatha finally turns around. “Careful,” she says in a low voice.

You swallow hard. It’s not a smart idea to push her but you’re annoyed enough to do it anyway.

“I guess I’ll just go out the window,” you jut your chin out.

Her eyes darken but she doesn’t move. You know she’s waiting to see if you actually try or if you’re bluffing. It pisses you off enough to turn around. You get two steps before your arms are jerked behind your back and purple lifts you off the ground.

“Agatha!” you yell more in surprise than anything else.

“I did say to be careful.” She tilts her wrist and you fly towards her. “Look at you, all dressed up for her.”

“I’m not,” you snap.

What you’re wearing is nicer than usual but it’s hardly your dressiest outfit. You’re going to a higher end restaurant than the usual casual lunches you do with Darcy.

Agatha flicks her wrist and you whimper at the pain that lashes across your thigh. Sharp enough it’s like you aren’t wearing clothes at all.

“Agatha,” you half-whine, not wanting to admit just how turned on you are.

She flicks her wrist again and you squirm in the air.

“Tell me to stop,” she says as she slowly circles you. “Tell me to stop, and mean it, and I’ll send you on your pretty little way.”

You hate when she does this. You can never refuse her attention. It’s all you think about.

Pain lances again when you don’t answer quickly enough. You debate purposely staying quiet longer to feel it again but you doubt this will be the last of your punishment for tonight.

“Stop,” your voice wavers.

Agatha strikes you again and you can feel yourself begin to drip down your thigh.

“Try again.”

“I want you to stop,” your voice comes out a little firmer this time and Agatha raises an eyebrow.

“I almost believe you,” she says, which you highly doubt. “Unfortunately, you’ve always been a terrible liar.”

“I- I want to go to dinner,” you try instead because you both know you don’t truly want Agatha to stop.

“Maybe. But you want me to fuck you more.”

You swallow harshly. There’s no denying that. “You won’t though,” you say quietly.

“Aw, is that what has my pet all upset? She thinks I won’t fuck her silly since she’s been so naughty?”

“Think?” you ask hopefully and Agatha smirks.

“Why, of course. I want my girl to stay, don’t I? Denying her isn’t going to that.”

It sounds like a trap. It feels like a trap. Agatha’s face is telling you that it is a trap and yet, that heat within you rises. With the way your games usually go, she’s probably going to fuck you. There’ll be some sort of catch, especially after you’ve denied her so much. But just the idea of her touching you when you were so certain she wouldn’t has you giving in.

“I -” you lick your dry lips. “I do want you to fuck me more.”

“Well, now you’re just stating facts,” Agatha flicks her wrist and your clothes disappear. “I suppose it’s better than lying.”

Anticipation surges through you as her eyes run over you. They snag on the red welts caused by her earlier lashes before they stray to the wetness soaking your thighs.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she coos and steps closer. “No wonder you’ve been acting out You’re too desperate to think properly.”

You don’t even contemplate protesting with her hands on you. When she looks up at you for a response you nod eagerly. Her amusement doesn’t settle the voice saying there’s a catch somewhere but her touch soothes any growing anxieties.

“I can certainly help with that,” she says and trails her fingers over the red marks as she makes her way towards your soaked core.

Her fingers lightly run through your soaked lips and you shiver. Agatha has been so annoyed about Darcy that she hasn’t touched you like this in days. You hadn’t realised how much the lack was affecting you.

“There we go,” she murmurs as she runs her fingers over your clit, making you gasp. She circles there for a moment before moving down and smoothly entering you with two fingers. “Empty that pretty little head of yours.”

Nodding, you try to spread your legs further apart but Agatha’s magic keeps you still. You wish she would let you down. Let you touch her. But it’s a miracle she’s touching you at all so you don’t risk asking.

Agatha’s pace remains slow until you’re whining with need. She’s so mean, only giving your clit a quick swipe every now and then until you’re begging incoherently.

“Are you going to behave for me now?” she finally asks with a raised eyebrow. Long past words, you nod desperately. Anything, you’d do anything for her. “Good girl,” she says gutturally and you fly over the edge.

She speeds up for the first time and you writhe in pleasure as the orgasm flows over you, the slow build to it having heightened the intensity. She doesn’t slow, even as you come back down.

“Mistress?” you gasp in confusion when she doesn’t stop.

“Don’t worry. I’m just making sure no silly thoughts linger in my pet’s head.”

You don’t protest or plead. You don’t want her hands to leave yet. It’s been too long without them. A second orgasm won’t hurt. Especially when she pays so much more attention to your clit.

As she makes firm circles around your clit, you wish once again that you could touch her. You want to feel her warmth against you and use your teeth to encourage her to fuck you faster and pull her hair when she doesn’t. Instead, you’re stuck whining in the air as she has her way with you.

Her fingers curl and hit that special spot inside of you. Your head drops forward as you moan. She does it again as she makes firmer circles around your clit and you’re coming before you even realise how close you are.

Finally, finally she lets you touch her. Her magic lowers you down and wraps your arms around her. You cling tight and whimper when her fingers curl again.

“One more,” she murmurs soothingly.

You meant to speak but what comes out is a low whine that’s quickly taken over by a moan.

This one is slow and soft. You’re sensitive enough that Agatha’s slow pace builds you up easily. You whine into her shoulder as the overwhelming feeling of coming a third time floods you.

You tend and shudder in her grasp before going entirely limp.

“There we go. You know where you belong, don’t you?” she asks.

She cradles you like you’re something precious. You nod weakly, holding onto her. There was never a question of who you belong to but you don’t mind reminding Agatha. Or, well, Agatha reminding herself.

“You mistress,” you manage to say.

“Good girl,” she says and kisses the side of your head.

You shiver again.

“So mean,” you mutter light heartedly.

Agatha gives you an amused look.

“Three was getting off lightly and you know it.”

You snort at the pun.

“Can we go lay down?” you ask after a moment. “I’ve missed you.”

The dizzying sensation of teleporting envelopes you a second later.