#I barely have contact with previous friends.. All are new and I just love them.

[abrill]

i loveeee to think about them

[hannieehaee]

hii!! i hope ure having a great day

i just wanted to request loser!scoups hehe I RLLY LOVED CHANS VERSION AND WAS HOPING TO SEE MORE 🫶🏻 anyways take your time to answer when ure free, thanku!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!seungcheol, afab reader, smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2686

part 1, part 2, part 3

a/n: hii thank u for requesting <33 i never considered loser!cheol before but ngl i loved writing it hehe i hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

despite popular belief, seungcheol was actually a bit of a loser.

okay, maybe his appearance didn't necessarily fit the bill (with his slicked back hair and bulging muscles), but everything else about choi seungcheol truly screamed loser.

even with a large group of fratboy friends, seungcheol was still the loser of the friend group, being the only one who had opted out of joining the frat and who spent every day and night studying rather than ever attending any of his friends' parties.

this was all by choice, he swears! seungcheol was just far too serious about his education to let anything become a distraction. and it had always been like this, even dating back all the way to middle school (jeonghan could vouch for this, having known him basically since diapers). due to this, seungcheol had always been kind of a black sheep in any and every social situation he ever found himself in. as a result, seungcheol ended up becoming shy, awkward, utterly embarrassing in social situations, and as jeonghan liked to put it, a 'virgin loser.'

even if seungcheol wanted to disagree with his friend, he knew he was right. here he was, twenty-one years of age and still a lonely virgin who had never even felt the touch of a woman's hand in his. he'd had opportunities before, set ups orchestrated by his friends, but he always managed to fuck them up. due to jeonghan's outgoing disposition, the girls he usually set him up with were set for a surprise upon meeting a his friend seungcheol, who could not even hold eye contact for more then twelve seconds (he counted).

except this year that would all change.

now in his senior year of college, seungcheol had an epiphany.

on the very first week of senior year, upon being assigned a new dorm-mate due to his previous one transfering, seungcheol finally saw a mirror of himself.

his new roommate was, for lack of a better term, a fucking loser (the term being courtesy of jeonghan once again). seungcheol had barely met the guy, yet he could not stand one more moment of conversation with him. not only was he a know-it-all who could only ever talk about academics, but he was maybe even more of a loser virgin than seungcheol was (at least that's what seungcheol was able to assess from the three separate occasions in which he walked in on his roommate watching porn in the common area of the dorm). his hygiene was terrible and his wide-rimmed glasses made him look like the typical nerd in every high school movie. everything about him was what seungcheol feared to one day become.

this one week of torture had been enough for seungcheol to finally take jeonghan up on his offer to join his frat and subsequently move into the frat house. granted, jeonghan had to break a few rules to allow a new pledge with zero obstacles in the way, but jeonghan was just charming enough to get away with it.

seungcheol had already spent the past 10+ years with perfect grades and pristine extra curriculars, so he figured that even if he completely flunked these last two semesters, he would still be a shoe-in for the masters program he'd been eyeing since arriving to university.

so now seungcheol was immersed in the frat lifestyle, though he still felt a bit out of place, which unfortunately for cheol, was something his good friend jeonghan noticed immediately. but this would only be a problem for a short while.

unbeknownst to seungcheol, jeonghan had orchestrated a plan for seungcheol's first frat party. it all started with giving seungcheol a bit of a new look. jeonghan insisted on throwing out most of cheol's 'nerdy clothes' (admittedly, he did dress like an old man at times), traded in his thick-rimmed glasses for some better fitting specs and lastly, gave cheol a trim to better frame his face. after all these changes, cheol felt more confident but still did not feel ready to attend one of the frat's well-known parties.

the decision was, however, taken for him, as he found himself in attendance to one just a few days later. also unknown to cheol was that jeonghan had been playing cupid once more, scouting to see which one of his closer girl-friends would be a good fit for his friend. and of course, his attention immediately fell on you.

jeonghan had only known you since the last semester of his junior year, in which the two of you had partnered up for a project that took up the entire fifteen weeks of instruction. the two of you hit it off pretty easily, but you hadn't quite caught his attention in a non-platonic way.

but you had caught someone else's.

although it had only been a fleeting moment, jeonghan caught onto every single look and action that had occurred the day in which seungcheol had accidentally interrupted a study session between the two of you.

he had easily noticed the blush in cheol's cheeks upon seeing you for the first time, along with the way he shyly checked you out when you weren't paying attention. what had surprised him the most, though, had been the way you checked out his friend as he went to leave the room. that had been enough for jeonghan to decide to play matchmaker between the two of you if the opportunity ever arose. and that was now.

getting the two of you alone was not difficult, but jeonghan knew better. he knew that sending the two of you into an empty room, completely blind to whatever he was planning was just a bad idea. so jeonghan decided that for the first time in his life, he would not scheme. he would simply set up the scene and leave the rest to you.

when jeonghan first came up to you a few days back and let you know about his friend's crush on you, you had been pleasantly surprised. what had shocked you the most, though, had been the revelation that jeonghan's cute friend was actually an inexperienced virgin. jeonghan told you to please not bring it up to cheol, but that he felt it was best you knew so you didnt feel caught off guard should you ever try to hit him up (which he knew you would). what jeonghan didnt realize was that this fact excited you more than you'd like to admit.

planting that seed was more than enough to get you looking for cheol in the empty room jeonghan had said he'd be in (okay, maybe he did scheme a little), prepared to deflower the pretty nerd you'd been thinking about every time you started to notice him sitting alone in the library every other day.

you had dressed to the nines, donning a red slip dress that gave you breathing room but still accentuated every part of your body you wished to stand out. ready and confident, you quietly opened the door to what you assumed to be jeonghan's room, knowing you'd find his pretty friend inside.

sitting alone on the bed, seemingly trying to psych himself up as he whispered affirmations to himself, the boy jumped back upon your unexpected intrusion, with his hears instantly turning red at realizing who you were.

you were jeonghan's pretty friend. the one seungcheol had had some unbecoming thoughts about immediately after seeing you in jeonghan's room last semester (and subsequently seeing you around campus as his eyes would unknowingly always search for you). and you looked .... fuck. and you were alone in han's room with him .... and you had closed the door right behind you .... and now you had walked all the way over to where he was sitting at the edge of the bed, not shocked at all to see him there ....

"hi," you smiled at him.

"h– hey."

"are you okay? how come you're here all alone?", you sat next to him on the bed, damning all boundaries, apparently.

"oh, i ... just a little nervous, i guess."

"yeah? of what?", despite the unexpectedness of the situation, you seemed genuinely interested, so seungcheol responded.

"it's, uh, my first party as a member of the frat."

"oh, really? i had no idea you were a member of the frat. that's pretty cool, seungcheol."

"you know my name?"

you scoot closer, smile still on your face, "yeah, of course i know your name. do you now mine?"

"oh, i, uh, yeah ..."

"okay, so we know each other. do you maybe want a friend to go out there with? maybe that would ease your nerves," your hand had somehow made its way to his thigh, now invading his personal space a bit. except he couldnt find it in himself to complain.

"t– that's fine, i, uh, i have han and– "

"but arent i better company?"

"y– you're ..."

"can i be honest with you, seungcheol?", you didnt wait for a response, "hannie told me that maybe you needed some help. that i could maybe help you out?"

"help? what type of help do you mean?"

you leaned in even closer, "do you want me to show you?"

"i ..."

"all you have to say is 'yes', cheollie ...", you breathed out now close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips.

he nodded and made an embarrassing noise of affirmation, completely giving up on speaking.

it was embarrassing how easily he let you turn him into a puddle, not even bothering to question how or why jeonghan orchestrated this situation. but that didnt matter as he finally felt the lips of a woman against his own – your lips; the lips of the girl he'd been crushing on from afar, jealous that maybe you'd become more than jeonghan's classmate. this was a clear declaration that his assertions had been incorrect.

seungcheol wasn't sure what to do with his hands (or with his tongue) as he kissed you. he felt you smile against his lips at his whimper, making feel that maybe you were making fun of him. when you pulled away, he feared that maybe he'd been right.

"cheollie, let me show you, yeah? just let me– yeah, like that", you positioned him in a way that would allow you to straddle him as you said this, wrapping his arms around your waist, "okay now let me show you how to kiss me, okay? just open your mouth a bit for me and let me teach you. then you can try it on me."

with that, you leaned into his open mouth, sticking your tongue inside as you played with his own, sucking on it and causing his eyes to roll back, another embarrassing moan leaving his lips.

"do you wanna try it now?", you asked as you pulled away.

he feared his voice would betray him, so he just nodded before leaning in.

seungcheol mimicked your previous actions, though his were a bit sloppier and more desperate. he whined at the way you sighed and pulled at his hair due to the way in which he suckled at your tongue and squeezed his fingers on your hips.

eventually you began to also kiss him back, making it a battle between your tongues all the while seungcheol tried to keep up.

suddenly your hips began to move against his own, making him groan in pleasure. after that, you leaned over him, causing the two of you to lay on the bed as you practically rode him through your clothes.

cheol couldnt help his cries of pleasure at feeling you press against his now swollen member. he didnt want the feeling to end, so he grabbed onto your hips and helped you in your movements, even grinding his own hips upwards to match you.

"cheollie ... do you want more? hmm? wanna feel what its like?", you purred against his ear while pulling off your dress, leaving you in a tiny bralette and thin panties.

"yes! fuck, please. i'll take whatever you wanna give me, just ..."

"shhh, it's okay. i'll give it to you, pretty. you dont have to beg. want you just as bad," you kissed him again before he could reply.

without him noticing, you had thrown off your bra, something which made him completely blank when you pulled away and began talking to him. none of your words made it through his head. he was far too busy looking at the pretty nude girl in front of him. he salivated at every inch of naked skin, wanting nothing more than to lick and kiss at every curve. out of all parts of your body, his eyes were glued to your tits. the fleeting thought of suffocating in them flew through his head, making him shudder.

"cheol?", you grabbed onto his chin and pointed his gaze towards your own, finally breaking him out of his trance.

you giggled at his confused face, causing him to sheepishly apologize for dozing off.

"it's okay, pretty. i'd be distracted too if i could get all these clothes off you ... that's what i was asking actually, can i?" your hands began to teasingly pull at his top, mangling it a bit so it could expose some skin.

his nod was all you needed to rip off his shirt and pull off his pants with urgency that had seungcheol blushing. after getting him fully naked, you threw off your panties and finally sat against him completely bare. the heat of your skin against his was enough to have him burying his face against your neck and begging you once more to please give it to him.

"shhh. i'll give it to you, pretty. i– i'll give you everything," and with that, you sank down on him, throwing your head back at the intrusion.

meanwhile seungcheol was completely gone. the warmth of your body against his had been one thing, but feeling your heat wrap around him was what truly did him in.

it's not like he had stayed a virgin by choice. he had tried to hit it off with many of the girls jeonghan set him up with, but none of them showed any care for him. they'd all expected him to step up and fuck them. even when he would try to shyly explain that he had never done anything sexual before, he'd just be met with scoffs or laughter. but you had walked him through it. you had complimented him and made him feel comfortable. you had made him see pleasure for the first time in his life.

although these thoughts swam through his head as you fucked yourself on his cock, seungcheol's mind was otherwise completely empty. all he could think about was how good you felt and how pretty you sounded as you threw your head back and pulled at his hair. you were just the embodiment of pleasure.

all cares and worries were gone from his brain until the moment in which he felt all his pleasure reach a peak.

he didn't want to be a fucking loser and cum so soon, but you just felt so fucking good, he couldnt help himself. he cried a warning out to you, to which you encouraged him to let go and told him you'd follow him soon.

his orgasm was something he never couldve imagined. but your own orgasm soon trampled that experience. your tightness as you let yourself go while still wrapped around him had him delirious with pleasure. without meaning to, his nails dug into the skin of your pretty hips as he lost consciousness for a few seconds.

unable to fully process it, he felt a sweet peck against his lips before feeling you cuddle against him. he didnt have to think twice before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

"remind me to thank that idiot", he spoke up after some moments.

"who, hannie?", you giggled against his chest.

"yeah. he was onto something when he made me get ready in his room."

"oh? he sent me in here looking for you."

"that fucker", he chuckled, "owe him one."

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (09/10)

The Consequences

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: things get complicated, you and Aemond's relationship ends and despite finding solutions, nothing can repair the damage to your ruined future.

word count: 8.3k

previous part • series masterlist

fortunately it didn't take me as long as last time and finally here it is hehe🙏😚

I really hope you like it a lot and remember that we're not far from the end, so I'm looking forward to your comments with your opinions. thank you very much for reading beautiful people!❤

You want to believe it's all a misunderstanding.

You couldn't sleep all night. Anxiety and worry consumed you like never before, waiting and checking your mail every moment hoping to see if anything would arrive, but nothing.

Your whole night was summed up in thinking about possible catastrophic scenarios, although they were not possible after all, since that is what is really going to happen because at this point there is nothing you can do because the college applications have already passed.

That's why you checked your email every moment, almost on the verge of tears, thinking about what the fuck you're going to do, how you're going to go to college and why Aemond didn't keep his end of the deal.

There was the urge to text him and even call him in all your desperation and confusion, ask him what happened, but you decided to wait until the next morning to ask him in person to get clear answers.

And that's what you're going to do now.

You don't even know if you are right but there is no other explanation when things are too clear. And you can't help but feel the pain of betrayal burning in your chest, with the anxiety consuming you and the need.

You finally arrive at the school, where without thinking of absolutely nothing, you start searching for Aemond through all the hallways, with determination and rage mixed inside you.

Your eyes frantically search through all the students as you walk quickly and make your way through them all, ignoring their stares at you as you don't care at the moment, you have a goal in mind.

And along with that goal and what you have to do now, still your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more painful and confusing than the last.

After all the moments you both spent together, both real and pretend, every laugh, every gesture, every kiss, it all seemed so real and so genuine.

But now… it all felt like a cruel illusion.

And to have to accompany it all with this, it's just unbelievable.

You finally see him in the distance, it's not hard to make out his distinctive silver hair, with his figure walking towards the doors leading to the huge backyard of the school, talking to some friends.

Anger and sadness intensify as you see him looking so calm, as if nothing is going on, made worse by the fact that he won't try to contact you either to let you know anything about the university, or even give you the news himself, anything.

You clench your fists and muster up all your courage before reaching for him, feeling completely hopeless.

“Aemond,” you call out to him, your voice tense and cutting.

He turns to you at the call of your voice, his expression changing from surprise to slight concern in an instant. His friends continue walking and he remains standing, as you walk towards him.

And you don't even give him time to speak, as you immediately raise your phone, showing him the college's Facebook ad on the screen.

“What is this?” you ask him, demanding explanations, confusion and pain reflecting in your eyes.

You feel your voice tremble, but you stand your ground, holding his gaze with a determination that belies your vulnerability.

He watches the screen and you see the worry spread further across his face, followed by a nervousness that runs through him from head to toe. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words seem caught in his throat.

“I'm sorry,” he says in a barely audible whisper, leaning toward you and with sorrow in his gaze, ”I-I didn't want you to find out like this.”

The knot in your stomach tightens even tighter as the worry and anxiety intensifies, watching him without understanding.

“And what does that mean?”

He looks to all sides, noticing the number of students surrounding you who begin to watch you both curiously, whispering amongst themselves.

“Come,” he says softly as he places a firm but careful hand on your shoulder and guides you into one of the empty classrooms, away from the stares.

You don't argue with him because you don't want to draw attention to yourself either, but as soon as he closes the door behind you, you feel the pressure in your chest intensify and you immediately turn to him, the need for answers burning inside you.

“You didn't talk to your grandsire or your sister?” you ask, your voice trembling between anger and the anxiety you're trying to contain.

He looks down for a moment, swallowing hard. His silence hangs heavy in the air before he looks up at you, his eyes showing a mixture of weariness and regret.

“Yes, with my grandsire,” he states to you, "But I'm still working on it," he confesses with his tone infused with a sincerity that hurts you more than you expected.

You feel your breath catch and you watch him in shock, with your lips parted and hopelessness all over your gaze, trying to process what he just said. The hopelessness is reflected in your gaze, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration that you struggle to hold back.

“What?” you manage to say, your voice cracking in disbelief.

He takes a step toward you, his eye fixed on yours as he tries to remain calm, though you can see the tension in the way his hands move, as if he's searching the air for the right words.

“Listen,” he begins, your tone softer and almost pleading, ”It's not entirely true that the whole admissions process is over. There are still… possibilities,” he says nervous, ”And I promise you that I've already sent all your documents to my grandsire. I just need a little more time to be able to convince him, and I will, I swear.”

He tries to convince you, observing you completely honest and sincere in what he is saying, but you no longer believe in him.

His words are like a desperate attempt to calm you down, to reassure you that everything will be okay. But distrust grows inside you with a sharp pain that spreads throughout your chest.

You watch him, looking for some sign to give you hope, some spark of certainty you can cling to. But all you see is uncertainty and nervousness, insecurity, because even he doesn't know if he will get you in.

You think about the announcement, how the university has already sent out all the emails, both acceptance and rejection. Then reality hits you like a slap in the face, and suddenly you understand.

“You… you got in?” you ask in a breathy whisper, though deep down you already know the answer.

He doesn't answer you right away, as instead of words, all you get is his look, a mixture of pity and embarrassment that only confirms it.

“Yes but you'll get in Y/N too,” he quickly insists, his voice desperate to convince you, ” You don't need to worry about anything.”

How easy it is to talk when he is the one who certainly should not worry about his future.

And finally the tears find their way, unable to control them any longer. You press your lips together tightly, trying to keep your composure, but the pain and frustration are too intense.

Aemond stirs restlessly, hating to see you cry. His hands tense, wanting to reach out and be able to hug you, but he restrains himself and watches you with concern.

“Y/N—

“ You don't even know if you'll be able to get me in too,” you interrupt him in a cold and distant voice, laden with bitterness with the feeling of betrayal and disappointment in your chest, “I trusted you, that's why I didn't apply to other colleges,” you look at him hurt and annoyed, “Now what am I supposed to do? The time for applications has already passed. I can't apply anywhere else because this, your promise, should have been settled long ago.”

Your words echo in the air, and the reality of the situation settles between the two of you like a barrier. He is affected by your words and falls silent, not knowing how to respond.

Worst of all, you know that he really wanted to help you, that his intentions were sincere, that's what you really want to think in the midst of all this.

But did he really want to help you in the first place?

If that was really his intention, then you wouldn't be in this position right now, in this situation that should never have been allowed. And you also remember Floris.

The tension is palpable and you feel the lump in your throat tighten even more and you look at him with pain.

“You used me,” you say with your voice cracking and barely above a whisper.

He shakes his head, his gaze full of despair.

“No, it wasn't like that,” he tries to correct with his pleading tone as he takes a step closer to you, “That was never my intention Y/N, you know that.”

You pull away from him, increasing the distance between the two of you, tears gathering more in your eyes and this time you make no effort to hold them back.

“I know because of what happened with Floris,” you say bitterly, ”And the worst thing is that I did like you.”

Your words leave him speechless for a moment, his expression marked by a mixture of regret and pain. He reaches out a hand toward you, as if to touch you, to comfort you, but you abruptly pull away.

“Y/N, please let me explain—

“There's nothing to explain,” you cut him off, unable to bear to listen to him any longer.

You feel something inside you crack and he seems to notice your change, to which he doesn't know what to do.

He tells you something else but you no longer listen. The broken promises, the destroyed trust, it all piles up on your shoulders, making you feel smaller and lonelier than you ever felt before.

The pain on his face is evident and when you finally decide to walk away, Aemond tries to stop you, tries to remedy the situation, but you don't even hear him anymore, you don't even see him, it's as if he is suddenly invisible and you leave him behind with pain and bitterness branded on your chest.

All because you realize that he, his promises, his words, were never worth it. And now you're paying the consequences of your future ruined by an absurd contract you should never have accepted in the first place.

You feel as if the world has fallen on top of you.

All the way home, you feel a mixture of intense emotions overflowing and the only way you can get them off your chest is to cry.

You are thankful that your father is still at work or else you would have had no idea how to explain your visibly pitiful state to him. Besides you don't even have the courage to really tell him what's going on.

But all is probably not lost.

Anxiety, despair and frustration wash over you as you sit in front of your laptop. But it also invades you and you cling to hope. You want, desire and yearn to find a solution, one last chance to not lose an academic year, so you open the browser.

Your fingers move quickly over the keyboard, as you search the admissions pages of other universities.

You visit one after another, hoping to find one that is still accepting applications, one that might have a deadline extension. But as you read and watch, that hope fades.

The words ‘admission perido has ended’ are repeated over and over again on every page you visit.

You try a small college in another city, then the only two available in your own city, but in all the answers are the same. Time has run out. The deadline has passed and there is no way to reverse it.

Frustrated, you hold your hands to your head, feeling the despair and anxiety growing inside you. And unable to help it, tears well up in your eyes and finally the situation crushes you.

With a loud sob escaping your lips, you collapse in your chair, feeling completely helpless, hopeless and like a fool.

You don't understand how you couldn't take precautions, have a backup plan B in case Aemond's plan failed, apply to even the city's public university, but none of that crossed your mind at all.

How are you going to explain this to your father? That you didn't apply to other colleges because you trusted a guy's word to get into Citadel in exchange for making his ex-girlfriend jealous?

Even the situation, thinking about what you were doing all that time instead of applying to other colleges makes you frustrated and angry at yourself for being such a fool.

And yet, you still hold on.

The next morning, your spirits still low, you head to the office of the school's coordinator, Mrs. Turner, with this last spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to resolve this with her help.

Mrs. Turner greets you with a friendly smile, though her face reflects some concern when she sees the expression on your face clearly tired from lack of sleep and swollen from all the crying you've done.

“Miss Y/N, what's wrong? Is everything all right?” he asks you, inviting you to sit down.

You waste no time and explain the situation to her. You decide to omit certain details, especially everything to do with Aemond and his promise. Instead, you opt to say that, due to a family problem, you missed the date for applying to colleges.

“Well, I understand that some universities do a second round of application, but you're mostly private universities in the city.”

“Only private here in the city?” you ask nervously and with a slight illusion.

“Yes,” he nods at you, “Maybe you could make an application for a scholarship.”

You bite your lip, feeling the frustration begin to take hold of you again and the illusion disappears.

You know that, while a scholarship might help you cover some of the costs, it won't be enough. You will only be offered a partial scholarship, and even then, the costs of a private university would be unaffordable for you and your father.

With the scholarship you had applied for at Citadel, you would have had most of your expenses covered, as long as you maintained a good grade point average. But you were rejected.

“No, I-I… I can't afford private college,” you admit as you look at her in desperation, ”Are you sure there's nothing you can do at the public university? Maybe send in a special request or something?”

She looks at you with some pity and disappointment.

“I'm sorry Y/N, but I'm afraid that's not the way things work,” she tells you in a soft voice, “Unfortunately, at most universities, once the admissions deadlines have closed, there's nothing we can do.”

You're not even surprised because you were definitely expecting something like this. Nor do you feel anything, just…emptiness and bitterness.

Mrs. Turner maintains her compassionate look as she continues to speak, trying to soften the impact of the situation on you.

“Y/N, I know this may seem discouraging, but I want you to know that all is not lost. Losing a year before entering college is not the end of the world,” she says in a reassuring tone, ”You can use this time to get a job, gain experience, and prepare an even stronger application for the next cycle. There's no rush, and many people find that taking a year off allows them to better focus on what they really want.”

But you know what you really want.

You want to study law, have a professional career, graduate and work at something you really like where you earn enough money to help your dad, give him a better life. That's what you want.

But you ruined it all by agreeing to a dumb contract, by believing his words and by not backing yourself.

You know her words are meant to calm you down, to offer you a positive outlook in the midst of the storm of emotions flooding through you. But, at this moment, these words offer you no comfort.

All you can think about is how your plan, your future, has crumbled in front of you.

You nod slowly, not wanting to seem rude or ungrateful for his attempt to help you. But inside, you feel misunderstood. You know Mrs. Turner only wants to help you, but the despair and fear of the future you now face keep you from seeing the bright side.

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” you say with an effort to keep your voice steady, ”I appreciate your advice.”

She gives you a warm, though still concerned, smile as you rise from your chair.

“If you need to talk more, or if there's anything I can help you with, feel free to come see me, okay?”

You nod once more, thanking her for her kindness and time before leaving the office.

Once outside, the hustle and bustle of students filling the halls of the school envelop you and you quickly make your way to your locker.

You open the door with automatic movements, barely aware of what you are doing as your thoughts invade you. With trembling hands, you put away the books and notebooks you won't need for the next few classes.

As you go through the motions, the pain and frustration begin to build. And when you least expect it, tears begin to slide down your cheeks silently.

You try to control yourself, pursing your lips and wiping your cheeks, but your emotions are too intense to be repressed. When suddenly, laughter reaches your ears.

You watch out of the corner of your eye and see Alys and her friends walking almost in front of you with mocking voices and laughter, full of undisguised contempt.

You have an idea what specifically amuses them about you, you know they must have sent you that picture of Aemond and Floris, but you also feel their laughter as a cruel mockery of your already desperate situation.

Still you can't help but feel embarrassed and angrily wipe away your tears with a sharp gesture.

Rage runs through your whole body, for everything. And your tears, though stopped for the moment, still threaten to return. You hurry to put everything away and slam the door shut to finally walk away.

You walk quickly down the hallway, wanting to get away from all the people, when as you turn down a corridor, you come face to face with Aemond, Aegon and his friends.

The impact is almost physical, but both you and they stop abruptly to avoid the blow. And as soon as you realize who you have in front of you, you freeze for an instant.

Just when your day couldn't get any worse.

Aemond, with his silver hair and imposing figure, is the first to notice you. His expression instantly changes from surprise to concern as he sees the traces of tears on your face.

And although he doesn't say anything right away, his gaze is intense, full of worry and guilt.

The tension in the air becomes palpable, because both you and he have no idea what to do, what to say or how to react. But you, feeling the pressure of the stares, feel trapped and instantly have the urge to walk away.

But first, Aemond takes a step towards you, trying to close the distance between the two of you and your eyes meet his, charged with a mixture of desperation and hope.

“Y/N,” he calls your name.

And before he can say anything else, you don't let him and quickly move away.

Desperation drives you to dodge him, also the fact that you can't stand to be in his presence, which you do but Aemond reacts immediately and follows you.

He calls your name with an urgency that makes his voice echo down the hallway, leaving his brother and his friends behind.

“Y/N, please stop, he needed to talk to you,” he urges you.

His hand reaches out to yours in an attempt to stop you but you continue walking quickly.

Maybe it's the look you both have or it's the unusual attitude you're both having around each other that starts to get people's attention. But you don't care since all you want at that precise moment is to get away from him.

“Please, Y/N.”

And then his hand takes yours, stopping you and you turn to him, your face flushed with tears and anger inside you.

“Let go of me,” you tell him in warning in a cold, cutting voice, ”I won't tell you again.”

The scene definitely draws more attention and some students begin to murmur and watch you both very intently, but the whole whirlwind of emotions makes you lose sight of the awkwardness of the situation.

You really don't want to deal with Aemond right now. In fact you don't even want to have anything to do with him anymore.

And Aemond seeing that, your attitude and coldness, the fact that you can't even stand to see him and the fact that you are being terribly honest, hurts him, really hurts him with a sharp pain in his chest, but he insists.

“Please, just for a few minutes. I need to explain—

Completely losing patience, showing the intensity of your pain and frustration, you release yourself from his grip in a sudden movement that draws more attention from the students and the situation becomes an unwanted show.

“Leave me alone,” you warn him through your teeth before turning and walking away with quick steps.

And thankfully he doesn't try to stop you again.

Everyone is looking at you and everyone is looking at Aemond as well, but you quickly find refuge away from all the stares, taking no notice.

However, you should have expected that little show to go around like plague throughout the school accompanied with the new rumor that Aemond Targaryen and his previously invisible girlfriend have broken up.

And honestly… you didn't even care.

To this point, technically he and you have ended whatever the two of you had, so you don't care to either affirm or deny it, you just don't make a big deal out of it and let people believe what they want.

Besides, how could you care when there are certainly more important things like thinking about your now ruined future?

News you have the confidence to share with Alysanne after all the drama involving you and Aemond, since you two are all anyone talks about in the entire school.

“That fucking idiot,” Alysanne mutters in disbelief, "Just when I thought what he did with Floris was so low but this… I mean, are you kidding me?" she stares at Cregan, incredulous, ”This is so much worse.”

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your forehead as you close your eyes and simply let your body try to relax. It's uncomfortable because of the hard metal beneath you as you lie on the bleachers but you still try.

“But he said he would try to fix it, didn't he?” asks Cregan in a cautious tone.

“And you believe him?” reproaches Alysanne incredulously, "I wouldn't and Y/N shouldn't either," she observes you, ”He had all this time to do something about it, even to be honest with you and tell you ahead of time that he wasn't going to succeed in helping you. Then you would have had a chance to apply to other colleges but no, he preferred to stay silent and enjoy the acting and all that it provoked in his stupid ex-girlfriends.”

And put like that… everything that happened sounds so much worse.

But you know she's right.

While the whole school is whispering about your ‘breakup’ with him, you can't help but feel that there are much more important things at stake, things that Aemond never understood or tried to understand.

And Alysanne seeing your expression and you basically not reacting because you're thinking about the future and how incredibly fucked up you must feel, lets out a long breath and moves a little closer towards you.

“I know it's a stupid question but are you okay?” she asks you in a warm and concerned tone.

You let out a sigh and take a moment before answering, not watching them and not taking your hand off your forehead.

“I don't know what to do,” you say in a low, emotionless tone.

Alysanne grimaces and looks at Cregan who also returns the same expression; they don't know what to do to make you feel better and relieve that huge weight you're carrying.

College is a big deal, both of them would also feel the same way if they were in your place, that's a fact. But by the same token they are not in your situation, they don't know what to do to cheer you up because, what could they possibly do to even help you? Nothing.

“I'm just thinking about how I'm going to tell my dad.”

You confess finally, withdrawing your hand from your forehead and fixing your eyes on the gray sky above you.

“I'll have to lie to him, tell him I applied but all the colleges rejected me,” you say regretfully, “Now I'm just left to look for a job and do that until I can apply next year.”

Alysanne and Cregan exchange a look.

“It's not a bad plan,” she tells you, trying to cheer you up, “In fact, a lot of people of our age don't go to college after graduation and do exactly that, get a job and apply until the next year or until they're sure of what they want to study.”

“Yeah,” Cregan agrees, "Besides, my family has several businesses in town, I could help you get a job at one of them.”

You can't help but place a small smile on your lips, seeing the willingness of both of them in wanting to support you, however, they can see the sadness all over your face and the discouragement you feel.

“Thanks guys, I really appreciate it,” you say genuinely, "And I know it's not a bad plan but…" you sigh, feeling the frustration and sadness swirl in your chest, ”I know my dad, and I know that, when I tell him that I wasn't accepted, he'll be supportive… but I also know that he'll be very disappointed.”

That's what weighs on you the most, far more than anything else, going over the whole Aemond thing and also over you, your dad.

He has sacrificed so much for you, working long hours at a job that doesn't give him what he truly deserves. He earns enough to support you and the house, he has always made sure you both have what you need; food on the table, clothes and basic comforts.

But he never buys anything for himself and his own dreams have always taken a back seat. All so he can give you a chance to do something else, have a better life and now…you feel like you've failed him.

Cregan and Alysanne watch you silently, their faces reflecting the gravity of your words. They know there is nothing they can say that will truly ease your pain, but you know they are both here, offering you their support.

“Well, I don't know your dad but still, he's your dad and he loves you,” Alysanne tells you in a warm tone, ”He knows you better than anyone and I'm sure all he'll want is for you to be okay.”

“And I'm sure he's seen how you've tried your best and you can't take the blame for something that was out of your hands.”

You understand what they both mean and you also ponder your dad's attitude in your mind briefly, but still, you can't help but place a small bitter smile.

“Actually it was my fault because it was my decision to trust Aemond, instead of making sure I had other options to prevent exactly this,” you say without emotion, “And I also feel that… not only it hurts me to have to tell my dad, but also to feel this disappointment,” you explain, “I really believed that I would go to Citadel and that my life was going to follow that path I had planned for a long time. But now… I feel like that dream has been taken away from me again.”

Alysanne looks at you sadly, understanding the weight of your words and she along with Cregan, no longer have any idea what to say to you. And you notice this, so you watch both of them trying to keep a genuine smile on your lips.

“You know? I really appreciate you both being here for me… I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have you guys to talk to,” you tell them sincerely, ”But I think it needed some time alone.”

Alysanne looks at you uncertainly.

“Are you sure? You know I don't mind, I can skip the next class to stay with you.”

“No, no, don't worry,” you hasten to say.

“I can stay too,” Cregan adds, shrugging.

“No guys, I don't want you to miss class for me, really,” you look at them sincerely, "I'll be fine, I just…" you let out a sigh, ”I need time alone.”

They both exchange a look and Cregan is the one who stands up first, stretching his arms out before looking at you with a mixture of understanding and concern.

“Fine but if you need anything, tell us,” he tells you with a soft voice and a warm gaze.

You nod in his direction.

“Yes, thank you,” you reply as you return a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Alysanne lingers a little longer, watching you with the same intensity as always, as if she wants to make sure you really will be okay before she leaves.

“I'll keep an eye out on you, okay?”

“Okay,” you tell her, feeling that simple gesture of support fill you with a strange mixture of relief and sadness.

She nods, smiling a little before walking away along with Cregan, leaving you alone on the bleachers.

And you stand there, thinking about everything and yet nothing, where you allow yourself to let out a long, heavy sigh. You look up at the sky, allowing thoughts to flow unrestricted.

The faint sounds around you envelop you, such as the soccer team boys training on the field and the entire cheerleading squad, as well as the faint, comforting sound of the leaves moving from the big trees along with the birds singing.

And even though you don't want to feel bad, the pain, the disappointment and the uncertainty about what will come next, it all hits you again in an unavoidable way.

And it all blends together in an emotional whirlwind that leaves you exhausted.

Time seems to stand still as you stand there, lost in thought. And you barely notice when someone approaches, as the sound of approaching footsteps barely registers in your consciousness.

And because you are absorbed in your thoughts, you only come out of your trance the moment a soft voice right next to you breaks the silence in your space.

“Hi Y/N.”

You raise your head almost immediately, definitely not expecting that and suddenly you see Floris standing next to you, watching you with a mixture of insecurity and regret.

You frown and look at her confused, not bothering to hide it, truly not understanding what she's doing here, talking to you.

And receiving no response from you, she looks down uncomfortably for a moment, fiddling with her hands as if searching for the right words before speaking.

And this is the first time you see her like this. You don't spend your time watching and analyzing her either but normally she always comes across as confident and sure of her whole persona, but now… you've never seen her so nervous.

“I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now…” she admits with her voice barely a whisper, sitting down next to you on the bleacher, though she keeps an appropriate distance, ”But I really want to talk to you.”

'Talk?'

You repeat in your mind, still watching her without understanding and unable to help but feel a pang of bitterness at the memory of all that has happened.

The truth is you don't want to talk, you already feel frustrated and tired enough without now having to deal with this and especially with her.

But for some strange reason, you don't say anything, you just watch her, waiting, keeping calm, waiting for her to continue. She seems to hesitate for a moment, but then takes a deep breath, focusing her gaze on the horizon.

“I-I… after what happened in Dragonstone…” she begins to speak cautiously, ”Aemond decided to cut off all communication with me.”

That nonconformity and that little ache in your chest comes up as you hear her name and you too look straight ahead, avoiding her gaze.

“He told me that what happened between us was a mistake and that you never deserved that,” she continues in a soft tone, ”I don't know if that gives you any kind of comfort, but I thought you should know.”

'Comfort?'

You don't know whether to laugh or cry but it's clear that none of this brings you comfort.

And she seems to be struggling with her own emotions, as you see out of the corner of your eye how her hands clench in her lap as if she's trying to control the trembling in them.

“And I'm not telling you this to justify myself, I know what happened at that party was a mistake,” she says emphatically, ”I shouldn't have gotten involved, let alone knowing that you were his girlfriend. That was…” she pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh, ”That was a big mistake on my part. I should have walked away from him the moment I met you, given you your place and respected you, but… I didn't.”

Her words fall heavy in the air and although part of you wants to lash out at her, another part of you feels so drained that you can't even find the energy to argue. Besides it's not just her… it's also Aemond.

“I was the one who was all the time looking for his attention at that party, you know? I was the one who had the intention of kissing him all that time, “she confesses, visibly embarrassed, ”I-I… I don't know, I felt so jealous when I came back and saw him with you. I-I guess I… still had feelings for him.”

You let out a long breath and finally speak bitterly.

“If he was the one who sent you to tell me all this to justify what he did and expect me to forgive him, it's not going to work Floris,” you warn her.

She shakes her head instantly, her eyes full of urgency.

“No, no,” she tells you immediately, ”He didn't send me to tell you anything, he doesn't even talk to me and barely notices me when we're in the same place. There's nothing really between us anymore Y/N,” she insists, ”It all ended when I left.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say or what to really think, also not having the slightest idea what to do.

Even if all of this were true, everything she's telling you, you don't care anymore. All of this just comes with the part where Aemond didn't deliver what he promised you. All of this is just more accompanying pain, but what does it really matter?

“I'm really sorry about what happened,” she murmurs in your direction after you say nothing, “I know my words won't change anything and I'm not expecting you to forgive me… but I wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry.”

You remain silent, jaw clenched and gaze lowered, with the silence still heavy, dense.

Her words echo in your mind, mingling with everything else you've been carrying. But what are you supposed to feel? Relief? More pain? Or both? You don't know.

And resigned to the fact that she won't find some kind of reaction from you nor will you say anything to her, she lets out a last sigh, accepting your indifference without a problem.

“And I also wanted to tell you that…I know that Alys and her friends were the ones who sent you that picture,” she confesses to you and you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, ”And you don't have to worry about them spreading it all over school. I made sure that doesn't happen.”

The lump in your throat tightens. Though his words seek to offer you some sort of comfort, they do not soothe the wound that has already been inflicted. It doesn't change what happened, nor does it erase the humiliation you felt.

But even so, there is something in her tone, in the sincerity with which she speaks to you, that disarms you a little, if only for an instant.

Finally she stands up, feeling that there is nothing more to say. She throws you one last look, full of regret, before turning and starting to walk away.

And you don't stop her, as you have nothing to say, when suddenly, she stops after only a few steps and this catches your attention, so you look at her in confusion.

Floris, still with her back to you, seems to hesitate for a moment, as if considering whether or not to say what has been on her mind. When finally, he turns to you again, his eyes searching yours with an intensity you didn't expect.

“He really loves you, you know? Aemond.”

For the first time in the entire conversation you hold her gaze.

The sincerity in her eyes strikes you, but it's hard to believe those words after everything that's happened.

“When I came back from the exchange, something changed in him towards me. I don't know, he didn't see me the same way anymore,” she explains, "At first I didn't understand why, but when I met you, I knew," she confesses.

She pauses and seems to hesitate, as if choosing her next words carefully.

“The kiss…that kiss meant nothing to him, I know,” she finally confesses. “I saw him at Dragonstone, I saw how he looked at you… completely in love with you.”

You press your lips together and stare at a specific point, remembering those moments.

“And I also saw you completely in love with him too,” she admits in a soft voice, “I saw how you looked at him, with the same intensity with which he looked at you. And honestly… the two of you looked very happy together.”

This makes you feel exposed in a way you didn't expect, stirring a little in your seat, not knowing how to react.

The images of you and Aemond at Dragonstone, the times you spent together on the yacht, the hot tub, on the beach, in the castle and at the aquarium, when everything was fine and neither of you were faking it and it looked like everything was going to be just fine, all flashes through your mind.

“I saw all that, Y/N,” Floris continues, looking down in shame. “And that's why I accepted his decision to walk away from me. Because even though I didn't want to accept it at the time, I knew that what he felt for you was real. And what you felt for him was too.”

For a moment, you stare at her, not knowing how to respond or what to do, since you didn't expect to hear this either.

And you honestly can't deny the honesty in her words and in that it's probably true what she's saying, but you also can't ignore the pain that still burns inside you.

And so you simply nod slightly, as if you are accepting her confession even though you don't know what to do with it.

Floris looks at you one last time before turning completely around and continuing on her way, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the emotions you've been trying to contain.

You feel a surge of sadness mixed with a strange calm, as if there is nothing left to give. Everything that has happened between you, Aemond and Floris is still a complicated knot to untangle.

Now the silence that follows is heavy, but somehow, it also seems liberating.

Aemond POV.

With a folder in hand containing all the documents he needs and a determination all over his mind and posture, he barely observes all the people around him as he walks quickly through the hallways of the building, heading towards a specific office.

When he reaches the corresponding hallway, he slows his pace, cautiously observing his surroundings, making sure his grandsire is not nearby.

After so long keeping him waiting in the hope that he would do him the favor despite having already told him it would not be possible, he must have known that he will never really help him after all the favors he has done for him.

And that is precisely why Aemond has resorted to such measures.

But if his grandsire sees him here, he will immediately know what he wants to do and will not hesitate to kick him out of the building. That's why he has to be quick as the guards have seen him come in and so have all the people who work here.

And it's hard to go unnoticed when you have silver hair, which implies either that you work here or that you are the son, brother or nephew of the people who run the company.

So he quickly makes his way to the office, where he doesn't even knock on the door before entering, just walks in quickly to avoid being seen.

“Aemond?”

He looks at his sister and lets out a long breath watching her wearily, to walk over and take a seat in front of her.

“I'm sorry, my grandsire can't know I'm here or he'll kick me out,” he explains.

“Why? What happened?” she asks genuinely concerned, stopping what she was doing on her computer.

“Nothing, it's just…” he pauses as she brings a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration, ”I need you to do me a favor, Nyra. A big one.”

This gets her full attention and she nods slowly in his direction.

“What do you need?” she says to him with all disposition, watching him intently.

Your face, your words, all the moments that happened, whether good or bad, but most of all your hurt and broken face, the disappointment and how terribly sad you must have felt.

All of that is Aemond's drive to finally make things right and the things he should have done in the first place.

But it is not only that, it is also the fact that you no longer want to have anything to do with him, that you no longer want to be in the same place with him, that you can't stand his presence and that you don't answer any of his messages or calls, wanting to stop having any kind of contact with him.

All of that lets him know exactly how you felt about Floris and also about the fact that he didn't keep his promise.

And now he is willing to do anything, absolutely anything to be able to keep what he promised you. It doesn't matter if you still don't want to have anything to do with him, all he wants is for you to go to the college of your dreams.

But Rhaenyra's face after explaining and asking him for the favor, is exactly what he expected but he will still keep trying.

“You know I can't do something like that, Aemond.”

“You just don't have to say anything to him Rhae, please.”

She shakes her head.

“That's only worse. You know how hard it was for me to get him to agree to let me work here since dad died and I still have to put up with his bad treatment—

“Oh please, we all know it's only a matter of time before you and Daemon also get to run this company in addition to Driftmark and Harrenhal,” he interrupts her seriously, “You'll take my grandsire's job and send him to run only the Oldtown company.”

Rhaenyra remains serious for a moment, pursing her lips.

“It's the right thing to do and you know it. My father left this to me, to us,” she clarifies truthfully, ”And your grandfather took advantage to take it all and leave almost nothing to me.”

He lets out a long breath, bringing a hand to his chin.

“When you've finished your degree, you'll run Oldtown and if you want, we can spread out more locations,” she tells him in a soft tone, “Helaena can also run Highgarden and Aegon and Daeron can also help us if that's what they really want. That's what father wanted and I never once intended to take that away from you, your legacy, as your grandsire told you I would.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he tells her in a soft, sincere tone, understanding what she means.

The fight over the inheritance was always in the family ever since their father became ill. He never showed them love or even that he cared even a little for them, but at least he intended to leave them a large part of his legacy.

Neither he nor his siblings fought with Rhaenyra and Daemon for it, it was only their grandsire, who from the time they were all children put hatred towards them to her.

But eventually, both he and his siblings realized that Rhaenyra had other intentions and everything grandsire said was a lie. Rhaenyra didn't want to steal their legacy, she never did.

And now… they have all developed a strange but pleasant relationship with her. He more than anything has developed a respect, even an affection, for his older sister, because she wasn't the villain they had always been led to believe.

“Our arrangement with Citadel University was made precisely from the company in Oldtown, a company he will run until you have graduated,” she continues, “And if he already refused once to help you with that and finds out that I did, this strange peace I have managed to keep will be over.”

And the worst part is that she's right.

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of those words.

If his grandsire finds out that she helped him behind his back, all the progress they've made to maintain family stability will shatter, destroying any chance of avoiding another conflict. And all because of a girl only he knows.

If it were a nephew, cousin or someone closer to the family nucleus, everything would be different. Nepotism is a common currency among wealthy and powerful families, like his, but in your case, you are a complete stranger.

That is precisely the reason why his grandsire refused to offer help him.

And now, Aemond is caught between the desire to repair the damage he caused in you and the fear that his insistence will cause an even greater rift in the family.

“Then I'll do it,” he says with conviction, sure of his words and Rhae looks at him surprised and confused, “Just tell me how I can get her into college. You don't have to get involved, I'll take it all on myself. I'll say I asked you for help and you refused. If anything goes wrong, it will be my responsibility.”

Rhaenyra lets out a long, deep sigh.

“Aemond—

She begins softly, but he interrupts her before she can say more.

“She deserves this,” he says, his voice lower but laden with sincerity. “It wasn't her fault. She did a favor for me on the condition that I would do this one for her. Besides, I've done a lot of things for my grandfather and the company, especially this company, so please Rhae, I really want to do this.”

Rhaenyra watches him for a long moment, her eyes searching for something in his.

The intensity in Aemond's gaze does not waver, for he is willing to take the consequences, to stand up to even his grandsire, if it means giving you a chance to repair the damage he himself caused.

“Even if I have to give up my own place to give it to her, I don't care, I'll do it.”

Rhaenyra blinks slowly, her mind struggling between logic and the desire to help him. Aemond rarely shows regret, and seeing him so willing to sacrifice himself for someone surprises her and reaches her deeply.

And finally, after what seems like an eternity, she sighs.

“What you're asking is a huge risk,” she admits, looking at him with a mixture of seriousness and empathy.

He holds his breath, his body rigid, as she seems to debate internally and he waits for a decision. And then, she turns to her computer, beginning to type, letting out a long breath.

“But don't be silly, I want you to study at Citadel too.”

The relief Aemond feels is almost palpable. A mixture of gratitude and hope takes hold of him, and his shoulders seem to relax for the first time since he entered the office.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Truly.”

“Just let me make a phone call and I also need her docu—

She doesn't finish saying the word as he, with a quickness that reflects his urgency, drops the folder with all the necessary papers in front of her on her desk.

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow, looking at the folder with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Sure,” she murmurs and opens the folder, letting out a small laugh, beginning to flip through the documents, making sure everything is in order "Well, this folder is quite complete and the grades are excellent,” she says in acknowledgement, "That's good because it will help us speed up the process."

Aemond allows himself to let out a sigh of relief, watching as Rhaenyra steps in to help him with this favor. And as she begins to make calls and coordinate the necessary details, he remains attentive throughout, beginning to feel more relieved than ever.

He knows this won't exactly make you forgive him, but at the very least, he's fixing the damage he's done to you so he can give you the opportunity you deserve.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @saturnssrings @queen-of-elves

[ljaylmaoo]

🎃Kinktober Day 5- Exhibitionism🎃

Hook x fem!reader 18+

!!UNEDITED/NOT PROOFREAD!!

warnings: Morgie and reader fight over hook (playful), classroom sex, grinding, creampie, the VKs are quite “normal” in this? lol, humiliation..?, caught..?, orgasms, creampie, etc!!

a/n: hello welcome to Kinktober day 5! I sincerely apologize for the wait 😭 I was focused on the fab 5 special and hit writers block then when I was writing them I didn’t like how they were going so i decided to completely rewrite them both. I’m still working on the fab 5 special so it may not be posted till tomorrow or the next! HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 👻

All I can say about this one is poor Morgie… 😭

word count: 2.7k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Quickly walking out of your dorm and down to the courtyard, you attempted to pull your skirt down that was riding up your thighs just a little too high, though it was just enough to cover the bottom of your ass. It wasn’t new for you to be wearing something as revealing as this, you were always confident in your appearance and style which is what your boyfriend, James, adored about you; having a girlfriend with just as much boldness as him in terms of fashion and personality had let his own confidence bubble over (becoming a bit too much for some people to handle, though he couldn’t care any less). But knowing that you weren’t wearing anything underneath made you feel a type of nervous excitement that swarmed within. The way a simple breeze could easily divulge your dirty little secret to the whole school. It made you more excited to know that letting James in on your naughty exploit would easily play with and falter his own composure which is exactly what you wanted.

You wanted to be the one in control for once.

You entered the courtyard and strode over to your friends who were all in your usual spot at a bench in the far left corner. You made a quick glance at the others and lightly laughed to yourself as you saw that Morgie was of course bothering your boyfriend, sat on his lap and face cupped in his hands trying to kiss his cheek while Hook was trying desperately to pry him off cursing at him as the others laughed; but your main focus was on James.

The moment you made eye contact with the pretty brunette pirate his face instantly lit up and with one forceful shove he managed to push Morgie off his lap causing the boy to collapse onto the ground with a grunt. He stood up and picked you up, spinning you around, thankfully having his arms wrapped around your ass to keep the skirt from flying up at the action. You giggled and hugged him back, “Hello, darling” he smiled and began feathering kisses all over your face as a nonverbal way of saying ‘thank you’ for saving him from the previous situation he was stuck in before placing you down on the ground. “Hi” you replied still giggling, “um, were you cheating on me just now with Morgie?” You jokingly asked while gesturing behind you with your finger, pointing to the boy who had just gotten up off the ground with a pout on his face, Maleficent and Hades still getting a kick out of it. James only rolled his eyes, unamused, “haha, very funny. You know I would never.” You laughed again, “I know I’m just teasing, love.” You said, scrunching your nose playfully and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

He sat back down and pulled you on top of him by your waist and rested his hand on your thigh, the feeling of the fabric of his pants making contact with your bare core reminded you of your lack of underwear and your original plan you had for today which had brought back the fluttery feeling in your stomach. “Gross.” Morgie rolled his eyes, still holding the grudge against Hook after he had thrown him to the ground. “Aww Morgs, are you mad because you can’t sit in his lap?” Mali cooed sarcastically, keeping the bit going. Morgie crossed his arms pouting more, “yes. I am, actually.” He began, “Because he is mine.” He stated while looking directly into your eyes with a glare, making it known that the statement was directed towards you. Hook groaned in annoyance, resting his forehead against your shoulder and slowly shook his head being completely fed up with him. You tilted your head, “that’s a shame…” you exhaled in faux disappointment, “cause it’s really comfy.” You smiled taunting the boy more while snuggling your hips more into his lap, getting more comfortable and as if on cue, the two of you stuck your tongues out at each other at the same time. “Not fair. She always gets to.” Morgie mumbled while walking over to Mali who patted his head.

“Wait!” Uliana unexpectedly spoke up who was focused on watching Bridget the whole time, causing the group to jump at the abrupt sound of her voice. The action made your clit to rub against his thigh causing you to let out a small moaned gasp which James picked up on. He gave you a weird look, “are you okay?” He whispered, tuning out Uliana’s voice, you smiled at him, “yeah I just…” you trailed off, your nerves making you hesitant on whether it was a good idea anymore or not. “Just, what..?” He questioned, before you could say anything, the first bell suddenly rang. It was now or never. You quickly decided to take the opportunity and follow through with your plan. You leaned closer to his ear, lips brushing against it as you whispered, letting him in on your secret. His eyes growing wide for a second and you felt him shift uncomfortably underneath you as you pulled away and smiled in satisfaction as you watched his face flush, taking a shaky breath. You silently got off him and began to walk away behind Mali and Hades, looking over your shoulder with a wink leaving him stunned for a moment, glancing down your figure. He swiftly got up and desperately tried to catch up with you.

Once you all got to class, Morgie practically ran up to the desk beside Hook’s that was at the very back, and sat down which is when James had finally caught up. He slowly sat down, carefully watching you and Morgie’s interaction as Morgie proudly smiled up at you, “ha, beat you! maybe next time princess.” You sighed, “that’s fine, I guess I’ll just have to sit here then…” you smirked and slyly sat back down onto your boyfriend’s lap, throwing your arms around his neck and pulled him closer all while keeping eye contact with the poor boy beside you. He groaned that you had “won” once again and blew a raspberry at you. “Morgie!” He rapidly turned his head to Uliana who gained his attention and continued talking among the others about whatever her plan was for Bridget, leaving you two to your own previous conversation.

You smiled and turned to James who was already looking at you. “What?” You smirked, he looked into your eyes, “were you being serious?” He asked surprised, you nodded, “I mean you could check if you don’t believe me.” you shrugged. He secretly and carefully brought his hand up your thigh under your skirt, you felt his finger gently brush against your slit before he quickly pulled away, his breath hitching after getting the confirmation. “Fuck…” he mumbled under his breath, you felt a soft bulge grow in his pants. “Why would you do something like that? We’re in school.” You shrugged, “I guess I forgot…” you said innocently. He rolled his eyes, “yeah, right.” He scoffed, “Don’t act like you don’t like it” you cooed, “I can quite literally feel you growing hard beneath me” you lightly rolled your hips on his growing erection. He instantly stilled your hips, grabbing them harshly. “Careful darling, you’re playing a very dangerous game right now.” He growled lowly against your ear before kissing down your neck making you gasp. You tilted your head to give him more access, “that I’m pretty sure I’m winning” you teased and rolled your hips as much as you could with his strong hold on your hips. “Oh really?” He questioned before thrusting his hips up while harshly pulling you down, his bulge easily slipping through your folds from your slick making you let out a whimper then quickly covering your mouth with your hand.

This should be fun.

After class officially began, you two would take turns trying to get a sound out of each other by unexpectedly grinding or thrusting when the other wasn’t expecting it. You’d be lying if you said the risk of getting caught wasn’t turning either of you on. But the feeling slowly became too much for you both, especially James who had grown tired of the restriction of his pants and fabric straining against his rock hard member. After he had perfectly ground your clit on the tip of his cock earning a surprised gasp by you, you had then thought of an idea. As you were sat with your back on his chest, legs crossed “listening” to the lecture while seamlessly twirling your pen in your hand, you purposely dropped it on the ground in front of you under the desk. You slightly lifted your hips and bent over seductively just enough so he could see your bare and glistening pussy lips rub along him with your movement. The sound of your pen dropping had only gotten Morgie’s attention from beside you and peered over, Hook quickly grabbed your hips and harshly (yet somehow discreetly) slammed your hips back down onto him to hide both his noticeably painful erection along with your throbbing cunt. Your mouth fell open at the way your folds were split open and thankfully, from the surprise and quite hard action, only a silent and inaudible scream came out. You quickly sat back up and turned to Morgie who gave you both a suspicious glance before turning back towards the front of the class.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding and nudged Hook with your elbow. He didn’t react and instead held your hips up, just enough so your skirt would hide what he was doing, and quietly and quickly undid his pants, “what are you-“ you suddenly felt his cock spring up and hit your ass. You gasped and giving you no time to think, he pulled your hips down onto his leaking member. You held the side of his thigh for support, covering your mouth to keep the whiny moan from falling out at the feeling of his size entering your tight hole. You heard him sigh at the relief of feeling you around him as he bottomed out, his grip still strong on your hips. “we’re in class…” you mumbled just barely below a whisper so only he could hear you while he guided your hips to roll against him. “Exactly, so be a good girl and be quiet so we don’t get caught.” He whispered with a smirk.

You were frustrated that he managed to take control yet again and at the fact that you thought he would never do something like this. You thought teasing him today would be fun and the punishment would wait… but you were dead wrong. So now you were forced to be split on his cock in the middle of class, slowly and subtly moving your hips along his. The tip grazing perfectly along your g spot making you squeeze your thighs together and held onto his hook (that was hooked around your waist) as support. You bit down hard on your bottom lip almost enough to draw blood trying your hardest to keep your moans from escaping, but you were struggling. Quiet whines and whimpers started pouring out from your mouth and you tried to still your hips. “I can’t take it anymore, please” you whined, gripping the desk in front of you. You glanced at Morgie who seemed to be asleep, his figure quietly rising and falling against his desk. But your whine seemed to wake him up and he slowly lifted his head from his desk and you quickly crossed your legs trying to act casual. He tilted his head, “are you okay, y/n..?” He questioned. Thank god your skirt covered up his cock buried deep inside you. you smiled at him, “no, yeah I’m completely fine. James won’t stop tickling me.” You said while throwing his hands off your hips to play it off. Morgie only nodded sleepily and put his head back down.

James harshly gripped your hips and leaned closer to your ear, “keep moving or I’m not afraid to bend you over the desk and fuck you relentlessly in front of everyone.” He threatened, voice laced with lust. You nodded and continued moving your hips and his grip loosened. The continuous motion created a hot sensation to grow in your lower abdomen causing you to clench around his length and you heard his breath hitch, he began guiding you while your body started to shake, the feeling about to wash over you. He reached around and dipped his hand under your skirt, rubbing circles around your swollen clit. Your breathing began getting heavier and you covered your mouth again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-“ You mouthed silently after a few more thrusts and came undone on top of him, your mouth dropping agape as your legs shook and body tensed while you coated his cock with your release. You melted into his chest as he continued the subtle movements. You felt him twitch and he bit down onto your shoulder to stop himself from moaning, letting out small enough whimpers that only you could hear and his breathing was growing heavy. The feeling of him twitching inside you made you squirm and you felt the hot strings of cum shoot deep inside of you cover your insides, filling you up.

You caught your breaths and realized what you both had just done. There was slight panic in your eyes, scared for him to pull out knowing that you had both made a mess (thankfully only on each other) and without saying anything, he spun you around and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist with him still buried deep inside as he carried you out of class, both thanking to whoever was above that the door was at the back of the class leaving you both unseen by any of your classmates.

Morgie jolted awake from his deep sleep and looked around to find that your chair had been empty. He furrowed his brows in confusion as he eyed the singular drop of a white substance on the ground.

Well that plan backfired completely…

[throneofsapphics]

track 32

Fenrys x Reader x Lorcan

Summary: Cursed to fall in love, only to have everything ripped away from you, moving on to your next life already feels like a drag, only things don't quite follow their usual patterns.

Warnings: discussions of death, Maeve, brief description of torture, happy ending

Word Count: 8077

A/N: the HAPPIEST of birthdays to @whisperingmidnights <3 I hope you have an amazing day (& thank you to @rowaelinsdaughter for your help)

You tumbled into your new body. Again. At least this time the Gods let you skip through the childhood years, instead flooding your mind with memories of your new past. You could only be a toddler so many times before truly losing the last grip on your sanity. 

You’d think so much pain and suffering would flood together, the lives all melting into one giant messed up pot but instead each experience remained distinctly painful to you. Distinctly full of suffering and sour memories. You, obviously, hadn’t survived a single one and your trek across the multiverse was written in blood. 

It took you up until life 15 to really stop holding onto so many grudges, especially considering you seemed to be destined to fall for the same people each time. Not the same types of people, but the actual same person. 

Whoever put a curse on you had been clever. If you were cursed, perhaps you were just really damn unlucky. But right now you needed a bath, a hot meal, and a good night’s rest. Of course you were drunk. Fresh in from a night out on the town with one of your friends, but you had good some good fortune in this life - your own apartment. 

Tossing clothes off as you walked, you beelined towards where you knew the bathing room was. You were pretty certain you’d stayed in this exact apartment building before, and if you remembered correctly each apartment had near identical layouts, the entire building cheap and designed for efficiency. In this life, you’d made it your own more than in the previous ones. 

You stepped into the tub, let the cold water hit your toes, partially sobering you, rivulets of now psycho-somatic grime and blood streaming from your body to pool in clear water at your feet. 

A mind healer would have a field day with you and you knew it all too well. 

Plugging the drain, you adjusted it to reach the perfect temperature. Yes, an efficiency building but still had hot running water. It was odd, but you didn’t question it - you were a creature of comfort after all. 

You wondered when you’d see them again. You wished you could say that tall of your interactions started off on a fresh beat, that you had it together enough not to judge them based on versions of them in a different universe, but you weren’t. 

Having it together? Maybe, certainly not on that level though. Having it together enough to appreciate their presence at this moment? Hell no. 

After last time. 

“We’re done,” he mumbled, not willing to make eye contact with you. 

“Then say it to my face,” you glanced between both of them. 

Heads down. Eyes downcast - first time you’d seen them like that. 

“Then I really meant that little, didn’t I?”

“No,” one said - you could barely distinguish who through the raging steam in your ears and tears down your cheeks. 

“Yes,” the other said. You didn’t know or care who said what. It didn’t matter. Later, just before the death took you you’d find out who made them do it and realize it still didn’t matter. She may have forced them to lie, but they didn’t have to be quite so convincing. 31 lives had taught you logic had no place in heartbreak. 

The memory hit you like a physical blow to the chest, a stinging and pressure left in its wake. That heartbreak had killed you the quickest of them all. 

Three days. 

It was part of your curse, you’d figured out. To always know. What life you were on, the details of your past lives, how long it took you to do, what the death felt like, every little detail was committed to memory all because you’d dared to love someone a little too much, and ended up stealing them away from a wicked witch. 

Well, the story didn’t go quite like that but you thought it sounded better in your head that way. In reality, you’d fallen in love and done something stupid, as all people in love do from time to time. 

You and Lorcan had agreed you should try to get Fenrys out, that although it would be more difficult to get him released, Fenrys needed it more. You didn’t have the guts to tell him you needed both of them like you needed air, but there hadn’t been time for that. All of your moments were stolen and borrowed time. 

“Will you please release him from your service?” You were on your knees, begging. “Please, Majesty.” 

The harsh flooring dug into your knees but you kept the same subservient pose. For someone with so much pride, this was humiliating and your Queen knew it. 

“No.” 

One flat and toneless word. 

“No?” You repeated. 

Wicked red lips curved into a smile. “That is what I said.” 

You had several choice words for her after, and she’d responded with a fucking curse. Cursed to always love, but to never have it stick, cursed to die from heartbreak. 

Even after all of these lives the word ‘curse’ was still ugly in your mouth, still made your stomach heave and back seize at the memories. The times you’ve run into the Queen she hadn’t recognized you, but you knew she was still untouchable. Frequently made that way by the ones you loved. 

The breeze sneaking through the poorly insulated window highlighted how water already chilled around you. You didn’t miss that part of this building, the tub held next to no heat and your bathwater always ended up cold in less than fifteen minutes. 

You were tempted to stay still and prune, but there was no use in it. A new life, new things to do. 

Dragging yourself out of the tub, you dried off as efficiently as you could make yourself, scrounged up some comfortable clothes and headed to your desk. Grabbing a notepad and pen, you began writing. 

number thirty-one. 

It was a ritual of sorts, perhaps your imaginary mind healer would be proud of you for it, for getting all of your pain out on paper as soon as possible. 

Right before you burned it. 

Tossing the five sheets of paper on the flames felt good.

Running into them happened far too quickly for your liking. It always did. Life always started and finished too damn fast. 

You glanced in the mirror, at what you’d chosen to wear for the night out with your not-really-new friends. The dress fit you perfectly, and showed just enough to leave you feeling bold without being uncomfortable. The gold wrapped around your wrists helped too. Not too much to look rob worthy, but enough to make you feel like some extra type of sheen was thrown over you. Maybe, just maybe this life would bring you a little luck. Was gold supposed to be good luck? You didn’t know, but maybe you’d figure out how to look it up later. If you remembered to. 

You felt something warm in your chest, not unlike the flush from the first sip of whiskey. Closing your eyes you could’ve sworn it tugged, dragged you towards another. 

No, not in this or any life. It wasn’t possible. 

No matter how many times you fell in love and in how many ways, you’d never found a mate and were convinced you were destined not to. 31 lives was enough time to find a mate, a life partner. You should’ve had that done in by life 10. 

It was funny, how you’d started measuring your existence in lives rather than years. After all, it fit your circumstances. Permanently destined to be a temporary existence in others lives, and for their existence and influence to end yours. If there was a way out of this, a stopping or breaking of the curse you figured you would’ve found it by now. 

A loud pounding on the door and you hissed as the brush slipped, you barely moving your wrist away in time to save your face from a large black streak. 

“Gods,” you yelled, “hold on a damn moment.” 

“We’re going to miss the bard,” someone - Ella? Yes, Ella, shouted back. 

“Alright,” you groused loud enough for her to hear, “one moment.” 

One more swipe of kohl and you looked ready. A few deep breaths and you felt ready. 

Shoving the cosmetics to the back of the counter, you swung yourself around the doorway, grabbing your coat off the hook and flinging open the front door, finding your friend posed with their fist menacingly mid-air, probably about to break your door down. Memory clicked in, reminding you they can be a tad aggressive on a mission. 

Their mouth curved into a too-satisfied smirk, probably that their threats had work. Rolling your eyes, you shoved past them into the hall, quickly locking your door. 

“Anyone else for tonight?” 

“Just us,” they looped their arm through yours and started for the stairs. 

Ugh. Last time in this building you’d been on the ground floor, and you’d definitely miss the convenience of that, but at least you had a pretty balcony view here. It’s all give and take, you supposed. 

“Copper for your thoughts?” Ella’s voice interrupted you. 

How long had you zoned out? Was that a habit in this lifetime? You couldn’t remember. 

“Do I really look that broke?” You deflected. 

It worked, she laughed. Maybe it would’ve been nice if she pushed a little. 

-

Fenrys breathed in the fresh air. Maeve had sent him on a mission. Alone. Staking out Varese for several months, observing, but she didn’t exactly tell him what to look for. It was perhaps the most exciting and infuriating mission he’d been assigned. Infuriating, because he truly had no idea what in Hellas’s name he was supposed to do, exciting because he had months to spend doing whatever he thought ‘observing’ looked like. 

Yes, he knew it was a mockery of freedom but right now he’d take the gods-damned mockery over what he’s stuck in every day. 

Walking through the street, although he stuck to the shadows, unnoticed to the masses, it still felt like each face was sent there to tease him, remind him of the invisible leash tying him to that bitch for the rest of his life. He didn’t know how Lorcan, the bastard, did it with such glee and joy. At least Whitethorn had shown a measure of discontent at some point, he’d even seen a hint of it on perfectly loyal Gavriel’s face. 

Something caught his attention. Someone. 

Arm in arm with your friend, strolling down the street, exuding pure confidence. Someone aware of their place in this world and what they meant to it. The light in your eyes matched his own. Dimmed, flaring when necessary and just enough to keep up appearances. 

Only a fellow fraud would recognize it. 

He had to follow. It was insanity, but he needed to see more of you. 

That’s how he ended up nursing a drink in the corner of the bar, shadows wreathed around him, cloak pulled up to cover his face. He matched some of the many body guards of nobles around, and through some blessing not a soul had recognized him or even shot him a second glance. Perhaps Friday’s were quite a popular night for the elite to pretend, that or he’d gotten better at blending in. He didn’t know which to put his money on. 

Someone, however, caught all of the attention - including his, even when he tried to ignore the magnetic attraction tugging him towards you. Throwing your head back in a laugh, you danced along with your friend, clothing absolutely sinful and fitting right in. He loved it. Every part of your energy felt like it was tugging at him, urging him closer, closer, closer, and he realized just how dangerous that made you. 

Dangerous to him, and to yourself through him. 

No matter what, she hung over him like a storm cloud. 

Anything he might try to pursue with you would end before it could truly began, love or relationship cut off at its knees without a chance to truly blossom. Did he actually want it to? Could Fenrys actually be that selfish? 

Yes, if it came to you. He glanced down at his pint. Still half full, and rather weak shit. He wasn’t drunk but still managed to think complete nonsense. Nothing could happen, but for now he supposed it couldn’t hurt to imagine a fantasy life with a stranger he’d never see again live in the corner of his mind, so long as it it stayed there. He was so, so wrong. 

-

Lorcan Salvaterre knew about sacrifice. In fact, he was an expert at it, at this point. But, every bit was worth it for her. His Queen. The only female he’d truly loved to the point where he’d do anything and everything. 

Perhaps other love could have come his way, but it had never been the right time. Timing, in his opinion, shouldn’t matter. He’d always make the time for Maeve, and everything he’d done since meeting her had been for her. When she ordered him away, he left. When she kept him by her side - but never her bed - he stayed. Maeve said jump, he asked how high. 

That's why Lorcan was trying to figure out when in Hellas he’d become so disillusioned, starting thinking things so unlike him. He couldn’t tell her, couldn’t tell anyone. Lorcan didn’t have any friends or confidants, that wasn’t something he dealt in. To him, there was no purpose in friends when his entire life’s purpose was bound by blood to servitude. 

The closest thing he had to friends was his blood brothers, and like hell he’d ever tell them of this ... treachery waging war inside of his mind. 

Lunch swirled unpleasantly in his stomach as he thought of the word. Treason. 

When Maeve called him to the throne room, when he knelt before her, he mentally prepared himself for his immortal life to end rather early. She must know. She always knows. 

Instead, he needed to figure out how he’d pissed her off because she’d sent him off for some kind of torturous punishment. Keeping an eye on Fenrys, currently loose in Varese. 

“Anything I should watch out for in particular, majesty?” He was quite proud of how he kept the bitterness from his tone. Or thought he did. 

“You’ll know if you see something off,” she dismissed him with a wave. “Consider it a vacation, of sorts.” 

Blood sworn didn’t get vacations, he wanted to protest. He didn’t want - or need one. Had he really been slacking that much? The journey would provide adequate time for reflection, for him to dissect and figure out exactly where he’d gone wrong so he could prevent those mistakes in the future. That was essential. This trip however, like most things with Fenrys, would probably turn out to be a complete waste of his time. Time that could be spent doing much better things. But ... he supposed if this is what his Queen wanted him to do, it was exactly what he’d be doing, regardless of his feelings on the subject. His feeling always had been, and always would be inconsequential.

He was here. Already. Fuck. 

It was day 2, and you couldn’t catch a break. Is there such thing as a resting life? One where you could go through without any relationships, just peace and enjoying your moments of solitude? No, not for someone like you. 

Running away from them never worked, they would haunt your every movement until they consumed every last bit of you and scattered crumbs on the wind, only for the crumbs to reform and drag you back towards them. 

Do you embrace fate or run away from it? It was inevitable, what was the point in fighting anymore? You were so tired of it. Exhaustion rippled from you in waves, you were surprised everyone around you hadn’t noticed as soon as you walked in. 

Even if you wanted to, Fate, in the form of the most gorgeous man to exist, all bronze skin, onyx eyes, and golden hair, didn’t give you a choice. He slid into the bar stool next to you. 

You didn’t smile, at first, but your traitorous heart warmed in his presence. 

“Have we met before?” He said, jokingly. 

If only he knew. 

“Maybe in your dreams,” you slid your hand across the bar and grabbed your glass, drinking deeply. He winced. 

“Am I that bad of company?” 

“You’ve been here for,” you glanced at the clock pointedly, “a minute. It has nothing to do with you.” You’d tried every approach in the past to get them to see if it would deter them enough for them to circumvent fate, but nothing worked. Each version of you was destined for tragedy with each version of them. 

“That’s fair enough,” Fenrys replied. You reminded yourself you didn’t know his name. 

“What do they call you?” The words came out, regardless of your internal wince, knowing you were setting him up for a ridiculous line. 

“In b-”

You held a hand up and his mouth clamped shut. “No, no, none of that.” 

He laughed, deep and rich, a sound you ... had you heard that laugh from him before? Perhaps not, at least not in a few lives. Recently things had been so depressing. 

“I like you,” he nudged you gently with his elbow, your heart ached. 

not again not again not again. 

‘Yes,’ a cruel voice from red lips whispered in your mind, ‘again, again, again. Forever. This is what you deserve.’

Someone cleared their throat. Fenrys. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, glancing at the bottom of your nearly empty glass. Empty. Fuck. You couldn’t handle this sober. Were you sober? Your friends were long gone, all found partners for the night while you nursed your worries at the bar. “What’s your name?” You took the last sip of your drink as the last syllable left your lips, ideally it could hide any signs of a lie from him. 

“Fenrys,” he leaned back enough in his stool to extend his arm to you, rather formally. When you placed your hand in his, intending to squeeze it to death, he deftly rearranged your hands and raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. “At your service.” 

“Charmer,” you rolled your eyes but softly pulled your hand away and replied with your name. 

He said your name quietly, extending the vowels, as if testing how it sounded on his tongue, how it might sound in other - 

You chided yourself, pulling your mind out of the gutter. With the situation you knew he was always in, that was the last thing you needed to be thinking about. Or that he needed to be. You might not escape him, but you certainly wouldn’t do anything to make this harder on yourself. At least thats what you’re saying now. 

“Last call,” the gruff barman said, scowling at Fenrys before shooting you a smile. Your mind rattled through details. Right, you regularly shut this tavern down and always left a good tip. 

You leaned over to Fenrys and whispered low so the other male couldn’t hear, “he’s easy to win over. A good tip, manners, and easy orders.” 

Fenrys hid his snort in his drink, draining the last droplets. “Thank you for the advice, love,” he whispered conspiratorially. Asshole. 

“Whatever,” you mumbled and left your usual amount, sliding off the stool. Just because you were fated to make each other’s lives hell didn’t mean you had to deal with him being rude. Maybe you were just sensitive. 

A ‘wait’ followed you but you ignored it. Inevitable.

He caught up to you on the street, calling your name again. 

Something else struck you. He was alone in Varese. When did this happen? This was odd. Out of all of your lifetimes nothing had followed this pattern, never meeting so quickly and certainly not with Fenrys on his own with his leash rather loose for what the bitch prefers. You needed to figure out more. 

“Want to come back to my place for a drink?” You said, slowly turning to look at him. 

If he was surprised by your quick change of tune, he didn’t say a thing, only nodding and linking your arms together. Like he’d been waiting for a friend. The pain in your chest was physical as much as it was emotional. 

-

Lorcan was here to keep an eye on Fenrys, and if that meant sitting in the shadows on a rooftop, peering through a beautiful female’s stupidly open window then so be it. You walked around and even acted like you didn’t give a damn whether you lived or died, but he could tell you were smart, based on how you’d handled Fenrys. 

He’d ended enough lives to have an appreciation for it, and the way you were so gods-damned careless with yours pissed him off. 

Lorcan should be questioning why his feelings towards you are so strong, but instead he’s observing every little detail of the interactions between you and Fenrys. For his report, of course. He always paid attention to detail, there was no other reason than being thorough. At least he kept telling himself that. 

It wasn’t because he liked the way your hair moved, or how you rolled your eyes frequently at his blood-sworn brother, followed by a barely there smile that he only noticed because the shadows danced around it, as if you repelled the darkness. 

Maybe you could repel the darkness in him. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Lorcan hadn’t drank, and even if he had he never entertained thoughts like this. 

Refocusing, he committed to memory every detail of what Fenrys was doing, how he reacted to you, how attached he might be and how you might already be used against him by his Queen. 

An unfamiliar feeling settled in his stomach, tainting him. 

Guilt. 

He didn’t want to use you. 

But if it came to it, he wouldn't have a choice. He never really did. 

-

Fenrys whistled lowly on his way home, through the empty streets. Still aware of his surroundings, also aware that none would dare approach him - not with the steel and the stature he carried himself with, proof he knew how to use it. 

All he’d done is sit and talk with you for hours, in fact the dawn was currently beginning to crest over the city. Hours of sitting and talking felt like mere minutes with you, and he found he had more fun in that time than he had in years, perhaps decades, perhaps since entering Maeve’s service. 

It was sad, really, that you could only be a temporary fixture, for your own safety. 

Still, his mind rattled with ways to do the impossible, with how he could be with you forever without ... it was useless, really, to even ponder it. The false hope and ideas would only taint the present he had, for however long Maeve let him stay here in his ... his fantasy, he supposed. 

He could imagine many fantasies with you involved but the biggest was your friendship. The way you hadn’t hit on him, made any kind of sexual innuendos or advances, thats why he followed you out of the bar. Because you made him comfortable in a way nobody else had in so, so long. Like you’d been doing it for lifetimes. 

The scent hit him. The male wanted him to know he was there. His entire body stiffened, posture straightened slightly, pleasant after buzz from your intoxicating presence gone just like that. 

Lorcan Salvaterre. His commander. 

“Who was that?” Lorcan wasted no time and matched pace with him. 

“None of your business,” Fenrys snapped. Aware that he could be punished for it, but he didn’t care, he looked the male right in the eyes. 

Lorcan ... Lorcan didn’t push him. At all. Instead, something like understanding passed through his eyes. Had Lorcan needed to protect someone from Maeve before? 

Probably not. He was a cold hearted bastard through and through. 

“Keep her away,” the words were whispered on the wind - there and gone. Just like Lorcan, who melted into the shadows. 

Away from who? Lorcan didn’t say ‘keep away from her,’ and Fenrys knew everything the bastard did was intentional. 

Lorcan Salvaterre was here. You knew it, having caught the faintest hint of his unfortunately familiar scent, trailing after you like a hound. 

The fact that he was following you made you nervous. Yes, similar situations had occured before but everything about this time seemed so different that it filled you with mixed emotions. 

What are the odds there’s actually something good in store for you? Slim, you decided, based on history and reasoning, and you knew Lorcan Salvaterre stalking anyone was bad news, but especially for you when you had ... history with the Queen he so lovingly served.

Someone whose head deserved to be ripped right from her neck, you cast the thought into the universe and hoped it landed, hoped she felt a phantom prick in the side of her neck. 

Maybe she regretted cursing you to some kind of eternal half existence, always in and out of different worlds. Doubtful. More likely she tired of whatever game she decided to play for you and set the person who she knew would hurt the most to kill you. Even you could admit you were extrapolating. 

Maybe an attitude change could fix everything. A tad less drama. 

You glanced out the window, at the rain currently pouring down, at the moisture leaking into your apartment. The weather certainly didn’t match up for life changes, if anything it read of staying right where you were. 

Accepting it wouldn’t happen today, you saved the attitude change for the next sunny day. Those practically screamed change in fortune. Or you hoped they did. 

A week passed. You saw Fenrys each night at the Tavern, and scented a weirdly careless Lorcan on your trail each day. 

Your attitude may not have changed with the next bout of sunshine, but you had a plan. It was rather simple, to somehow draw Lorcan out. However, there was a difference between having a plan and knowing how to execute it. You supposed that made your plan an idea more than anything. 

Fenrys had mentioned business meetings he’d be attending one night, and you decided that was the perfect to do it. The perfect night to pretend to get sloshed, and you had the help of your favorite barkeep. 

Knowing Lorcan, he probably had questions for you, and wouldn’t miss the opportunity to get some answers while your inhibitions were ‘lowered.’ Arrogant males like him wouldn’t let opportunities slide by, but Lorcan Salvaterre stayed Maeve’s commander for a reason, and you knew your acting skills had to be top notch to keep him from becoming suspicious. 

-

“When will you stop pretending to drink those?” Lorcan asked gruffly as he slid into the stool next to you, his hulking frame towering over the bar and casting a shadow over you. You were a good actress, but he was better, and caught on after the first couple of drinks and exchanged looks between you and the barkeep, who you were on very friendly terms with. 

The obsession with you, the flares of irrational anger when another man trailed too close, Lorcan knew what this was, and knew he was screwing both of you over with it. Fated for misery and doom, no matter how the cards played out. He’d be stuck with her, Lorcan noted how she was demoted in his mind, and you’d be ... free. 

All those years he’d spent making fun of those males now served to make him feel like a lot of an asshole because he gotit. There was a crack in his armor, a weakness in his resolve, and nobody knew about it. He intended to keep it that way until you were far, far away from him and his ... his Queen, and then as long as possible after that. His stomach clenched at the thought of what she might do to you in order to help keep him in line. Nothing good, and everything bad. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answered primly, turning away from him. Why had he come over here again? 

He laughed, low and harshly. “Sure you don’t, sweetheart,” he exaggerated the last word - turning it into an insult. It didn’t feel right. His entire being flared against any insult to you, even coming from him. 

But ... the little flash of anger in your eyes, the way your nostrils flared, that was amusing. He liked the fire in you. “What did you call me?” 

He shrugged. 

You scoffed, muttering an insult he chose to ignore under your breath. “Nothing to say to that one?” You pushed when he didn’t answer, letting your elbow brush against his, “I thought it was creative. If you need me to I can keep going, there’s plenty where it came from.” 

“It was well done,” perhaps he wasn’t particularly in the mood to be insulted all night, and he got the sense you were more than capable of doing just that. 

“Well done,” you echoed, and he nodded. Your mouth curled into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. 

-

In the future, you might just deny it ever happened, but Lorcan Salvaterre ended up in your apartment that night. You ignored the fact that he seemed to know the way there. There had always been plenty you were willing to ignore when it came to that male, and that hadn’t changed over the last however many lives. 

Once Lorcan - once he’d found his Queen, you’d been second. But before that, he’d made you his everything. You never could blame him for leading you to beg Maeve that first time, that cursed time. 

Still, on the nights when you were alone, when the rain or a pretty mountain outline reminded you of him, when everything felt too much, it was easier to pin it on him, even if it made you a horrible person. Horrible, even for an ex-lover, but then again you were always an expert at self-depreciation. 

Looking at the male now, like a statue of a God carved from granite, you knew he’d be the death of you. Again. But how could you fight him? You never had the strength to in the past. Maybe you weren’t trying to survive hard enough ... 

Things had never moved this quickly in the past, they’d always been at a pace just slow enough to be torturous with your knowledge of your impending doom. 

Maybe this time you needed to really try. 

For Lorcan. For Fenrys. But mostly, for yourself. 

The door closed behind you and you slipped back into reality, into the new situation you found yourself in. 

“Drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading right for your kitchen. 

He caught your hand, spinning you back towards him. 

“I had something else in mind,” he said roughly, and dipped his head towards yours. 

You knew he could be patient, he could be gentle, he could be kind, but you got none of that now. 

His hand gripped your jaw, tight enough to keep you still but not harsh enough to hurt, his mouth moved fervently against yours as you matched his pace. It was the collision of a thousand stars, a world breaking and re-forming into something new and beautiful and wonderful. It was everything and more. It was the multiverse coming together into a single moment and screaming yes! this is what you were waiting for. He slowed, softened, as if some kind of guilt caught up with him. You wouldn’t have that. Couldn’t. You gripped the back of his hair and pulled him back closer to you, pressing your body against his. 

He would be yours for the night, but little did he know you‘d already been his for eternity. 

-

You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing, Fenrys reminded himself as he walked out of the bar, spotting you teasing Lorcan. He’d finished his business meetings early and thought he might see if you were still haunting your favorite spot at the bar. 

Still, he wanted to rush up to you and ask you if you knew who the hell you were tangling with but ... he supposed he was like Lorcan in that way, one of Maeve’s Blood Sworn, and to have two of them shown publicly taking an interest in you was nothing short of deadly and he refused to subject you to that. So Fenrys left. 

And hated himself for it, but self hatred was nothing new to him. 

Fenrys wasn’t sure how he found Lorcan’s rooms, considering the male probably didn’t want to be found right now. Probably wanted to bask in you. Your beauty, the time he sp-

He stopped himself from thinking of it. Even thought of shifting now, to a body where emotions were simpler and didn’t drain quite so much. Fenrys rarely shifted voluntarily when away from her, not after she kept him in that form so frequently. ‘Where he was easier to deal with,’ she’d said once, and the words still stung as His Majesty, he thought the words mockingly, intended for them to. 

The door swung open. 

Lorcan didn’t speak, just stood there with his arms crossed and jaw clenched. 

Fenrys felt young, and not in a good way. What was he? A jealous lover? Concerned friend? Idiot? 

Then it hit him. 

The scent. 

Yours. 

His. 

Entwined. 

Without him. 

Rage, pure and strong filled him. The scent was particular, and he’d seen it just a few times before. Lorcan, intelligently, had a shield around himself before Fenrys he was on the verge of some kind of burst. 

“Not fucking possible,” Fenrys backed away, “we can’t have the same mate.” 

Lorcan’s eyes widened, but he was looking beyond him. Fenrys whirled around. 

You. 

“I can’t have a mate,” you said quietly, desperately. “I never have before,” then to yourself, “it’s never been like this,” you switched your gaze to the window, he watched you try to angle your face so they couldn’t see the tears in your eyes but they were evident. Everything was evident when it came to you. 

“Get inside,” Lorcan said roughly to both of you. 

He had a point, it wasn't exactly the space for this conversation. A hallway where anyone could be walking by and overhear. That’s the last thing he wanted, anything that might put you in further danger. 

When he didn’t instantly move, Lorcan grabbed his shirt, tugging him inside. There was a knife at Lorcan’s throat before the male could blink. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me,” Fenrys hissed, slowly sliding the knife away and sheathing it at his side. 

He was surprised his commander hadn’t caught it, but then again he was staring at a pretty female in the hallway, your gaze still distant and fixed on the window. He called your name, just loud enough to carry across the distance. Your head snapped, you blinked a few times. He tilted his head towards the room. 

An over-exaggerated sigh, probably for their sake more than anything, and then you followed them inside. Each step seemed to make you shrink further into yourself, he noticed, that confidence and bravado fading and leaving someone vulnerable behind. 

It took a strong hand to tamp down on instincts rising, telling him to eliminate any immediate threats to you. The main one being Lorcan, but also any other males and possibly females in the vicinity. It was absolutely ridiculous, the way he was feeling even if he wasn’t acting on it. At least he hadn’t acted on it. Yet. If only because he was well aware it would piss you off. 

-

“What did you mean, ‘it’s never been like this?’” Lorcan asked and you read the skepticism in his eyes. Not quite distrust, but an interesting mix of confusion and concern. That had the potential to change quickly. Could you even speak about it or would you drop dead? You’d always assumed you couldn’t but ... 

“I’m cursed,” you started. They exchanged a brief glance, and for some reason that irritated you, but you kept going. “We’ve met before. Many times,” you knew that would grab and probably keep their attention, at least for a little while. You held a hand up when their brows furrowed in concern, “just hear me out before you write me off as crazy.” 

“I would never write you off,” Fenrys murmured, and you shot him a thankful look but he kept his mouth shut after that. Perhaps it had something to do with the glare on Lorcan’s face. 

The words were difficult. 

Each one felt stilted and awkward, but they watched and listened as if each word you said was pure gold and something about that made you feel powerful. They went through the emotions with you, although it was a tad more difficult to tell with Lorcan, but you struggled together in a way. For some reason, it started to feel like this might turn into a goodbye and you weren’t quite ready for that. After all, you didn’t know how anyone could stay with someone ... someone with the kind of tainted past you have. 

“Why would she do that?” You finished. It a was rare chance to ask two people who probably have more insight than any others into how the mind of the Queen works, not that you believe she’d let anyone truly understand her. 

“Cruelty,” Fenrys said. 

The same time as Lorcan said, “jealousy.” 

“Makes sense,” you huffed, eyes rolling towards the ceiling. It was stupid. 

“How do you end up reincarnated?” Lorcan asked. The question you were hoping to avoid. 

“I die.” 

“Of old age,” Fenrys said, but didn’t sound as if he believed it. 

“No,” you said sharply, exhaling. “You’ll laugh at me.” 

“Try me. Believe it or not, I don’t find your death very funny,” Fenrys said dryly. Lorcan was watching with apt attention, eyes watching you like a hawk. 

“Heartbreak,” you grunted, quickly whirling towards - fuck. You’d meant to look out the window, but saw the mirror instead and the twin faces of horror behind you struck something deep inside of your heart. 

“I -” your throat closed up, the words not quite getting out. 

“What is it?” Fenrys curled his fingers inward, and despite a slight internal cringe you let him beckon you, let him take your hands, let him give you this kind of comfort. 

“I wish you remembered,” you whispered, glancing at Lorcan too, who’s eyes and face told you, yes he knew you were changing the subject, and no the conversation was not over yet. 

-

“I don’t -,” Lorcan Salvaterre stumbled over his words, perhaps for the first time in his life, “I don’t mind making new memories, as long as they’re with you.” 

You beamed. Fenrys laughed. He debated how upset you would be if he killed the other male. 

Other male. 

He knew, already, that he’d have to share you. 

For you, Lorcan could and would make anything work. You were worth everything, absolutely everything. 

Maeve, a voice whispered in his mind. He pushed it down, ignored it for now. That was an ... his Queen would never be an issue, but a situation he could deal with at a later date. 

He swore to himself he’d never make fun of a mated male again. Technically he wasn’t mated yet, but he would be ... soon, he had to be. Being your mate felt like an irrevocably necessary part of his soul, like he might die without it, without having that bond with you to tether him to this world and give him meaning. Meaning he’d been lacking his entire life. 

He didn’t know or care if Fenrys felt the same way but he supposed he should. He had an obligation to his mate’s mate, after all, outside of the fact that Fenrys is his bloodsworn brother. 

Bloodsworn.

His bones and blood chilled. He couldn’t be yours, not really. The realization threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but he couldn’t cry, not here - not in front of you. You needed him strong. 

He stood, abruptly, but didn’t care. He jerked his chin to Fenrys. “We need to talk,” he let his eyes say the rest. 

He found he didn’t like how some of the shine left Fenrys’s, how they dulled at the implication of their Queen’s existence. Too bad, for now. 

“Great. Secrets,” you muttered, and a slight smile threatened his lips, but you still waved them away. Perhaps you understood secrets better than anyone else. 

Lorcan led Fenrys to an adjacent room, and their shields went up at the same time. To keep any nosy females from overhearing. The more she knew, the more danger she was in. At least they were on the same page. 

“Where is safe for her?” Fenrys started. 

At least he had his priorities straight. 

“Antica,” Lorcan answered. Maeve didn’t dare touch the southern continent, yet. “For now,” he added for honesty’s sake. “The curse won’t break until Maeve is ...” He didn’t, couldn’t bring himself to, speak the words out loud, it felt too much like treason. 

“Dead,” Fenrys said for him. He had no problem with it, apparently. If Lorcan had been as insolent as the male in front of him, he would’ve been put to death long ago, and he knew that. Perhaps Fenrys didn’t, but it wasn’t the time for that conversation. “So we spirit her away, and then what? How do we keep her from dying?” 

“A blood promise.” 

“Like what?” Fenrys leaned back against the wall, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

“When the curse is broken, we will find her.” 

Antica. Hot, miserable, mate-less Antica. In truth, it wasn’t that miserable, but you'd be enjoying yourself a lot more if your mates hadn’t shipped you off here as quickly as they could. 

All in the name of keeping you ‘safe,’ you grimaced in the mirror, brushing down your hair, now frizzy slightly from the rare rain that breezed in the day before. They're and gone like a phantom, almost. Almost like their presences in your life. 

You could still remember their touches from that last night, firm but gentle, still tentative like new lovers can be. You thought you knew everything about their touch from the past, but even they kept some surprises across multi-verses, or maybe it had just been a while since it had been the three of you and your memory was getting poorer. 

Probably that. 

You pushed the door open, throwing yourself into the throng of people making their way to the one of the several monthly markets in the city. Throng of people, you thought. It was awfully busy. 

‘War,’

‘Sending us-’

‘Saved the princess,’

‘Foreign lord.’ 

The whispers hit your ears one by one like a drum. A war. Against who?

You stopped casually at the closest table, and sure enough the seller was chittering to the person who came before you about it. A war, and the khaganate would be marching for Aelin Galathynius. 

You rolled the name over on your tongue, it being vaguely familiar. Perhaps you should have kept up more with politics throughout the ages, you probably could’ve made a load of money betting, but that felt a tad too immoral, and you did fear the judgement of your own conscience. 

As soon as the intrigue was there, it was gone. You’d heard of several wars over the last two decades, the longest you'd lived so far, and none of them had brought your mates back to you. You seriously doubted this would be the one. 

You refused to acknowledge the ugly truth. They’d probably already forgotten about you. 

-

In the lonely and mindless hours stuck in his Wolf form, Fenrys thought of the beautiful female in Antica, and dreamed of a life without Maeve, however impossible it was he never stopped hoping.

The female screamed on the table in front of him, but he was frozen in time and space. All he could do right now was bear witness to the horrible crime in front of him. Aelin Galathynius deserved someone to bear witness to her pain and her strength. 

The female who should’ve been his Queen, and the female who was his mate had so much in common. Not necessarily appearance, but your attitude and the way you carried themselves. So much that being with her for those months had felt like an even larger blessing. It wasn’t infidelity, not by any means, but perhaps a bit wrong he was using Aelin as a proxy for you. 

The screams in front of him distracted him from his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. She’d passed out, he was waking her with some foul smelling cloth. Each day, he thought he’d reached the limits of what he could bear without closing his eyes, but somehow - because he knew you would do it - he managed to watch. Witness. Wait. It was all he could do now. 

- 

Lorcan Salvaterre knew he was a miserable male to be around, but traveling through Varese had turned him downright sour. At least internally. 

He knew he needed to get to Aelin, and he knew he needed to get to Fenrys. For the bond they shared with each other that they’d never told a soul about. If he didn’t get to him, you’d never ever forgive him. 

He might be too much off a coward to tell you, but he would know in his soul and that’s enough. He’d find Fenrys, get her away from him, do whatever it took. 

-

You woke up one morning with an unusual lightness, a ‘pep’ in your step, so to speak. You’d never understood that phrase until then, when you felt like all of your burdens and issues had been freed in a spare moment, like nothing could weigh you down right then. 

As usual, you got your gossip through the market, and it all made sense. 

Doranelle has a new Queen. 

Queen Maeve was killed in Terrasen. 

You were free. 

You tilted your head up towards the sky, and let the sun shine down on your face, not caring you were stopped in the middle of the park. From the corner of your eye you spotted an older woman copying your movements, not in a mocking way, but in a yes the sun is quite nice today way.

The flip side of your freedom meant your mates would be coming soon. They’d be coming soon. 

To Antica. 

To you. 

You scrambled back to your apartment to start packing. How long did it take to get from Terrasen here?

You paused halfway through throwing your closet onto your bed. 

A letter would’ve arrived by now, but you’d received no such thing. 

That night you fell asleep on top of your clothes. 

The next day you built the courage to put them away. 

You didn’t know where in the world they were now that Maeve is gone, and perhaps with the curse lifting they felt they no longer were obligated to be with you and love you, and maybe -

A familiar scent hit the same time as a knock on your door. 

You rushed to it, throwing it open finding ...

Both of them. Your mouth parted, words not quite leaving your lips. Finally, you managed a lame, “you came.” 

“We promised,” Lorcan said “Can we come in?” 

Yes, they obviously could, you swung the door wider and ushered them inside. 

“We came as soon as we could,” Fenrys promised. 

The silence was awkward for a few moments as the three of you tried to figure out how to navigate this. But, it was easy enough to break as you threw yourself at both of them, managing to catch each of them in a hug at the same time. 

“I forgot to tell you before I left,” you started, muffled in the shirts but knew they heard you. You’d memorized these words long ago. “I spent so long looking for all of the things that would kill me, I forgot the ones that made me feel alive. Both of you made me feel alive. Thank you.” 

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter Five: Cats, Cluelessness, and difficult communication

Max Verstappen x Reader x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris

Chapter Summary: a brief interlude in the off-season before 2020, Sebastian adopts Charles, Max struggles to communicate his feelings, and the reader makes a new friend 👀

Warnings: mentions of SH, reader over does it again, seizure like episode, Lando is awkward, Charles is awkward, Max can't do feeling well yet, jos verstappen

Notes: ah yes, the gang is all here now. I have more action coming in the next part. Maybe also some fluffy stuff. I've been trying to get some blurbs done for what isn't shown in the long chapters because I've had to cut down on some things. I would love to give y'all some content of our duo, trio, or quartet doing something specific.

Previous <-

Masterlist

The end of the season means a bit of a break for the drivers. A chance to spend some time with their families. For her, it means spending time with Sebastian and Hanna in Germany.

The trio had wanted to officially introduce themselves. They knew, but the three barely got a chance to interact all together. It would be nice to catch up anyways.

They are all sat at the dining room table. Even the littles wanted to join in on the conversation. Mostly they spout of randomness as they listen but it’s still endearing to everyone.

The three are sat in a row. Charles far left, the female in the middle and Max on the right if her.

“So I’m curious, who gets the middle of the bed?” Seb laughs at his own question. Hanna playfully hits his shoulder. Charles and Max both look at her. She just rolls her eyes as they both start laughing.

“Are you three moving in together?” Hanna asks this time. Genuine curiosity, unlike her husband.

Charles almost chokes. He hadn’t thought about it.

He’s thankful he’s not the first to answer. “Are you saying you want me out?” It’s a playful question from the girl. She’s smiling like an idiot at the banter.

“Of course not. You’re welcome here forever.”

Max swallows his food then joins the conversation. “We were actually planning on moving some things to my apartment since we’re here.” Now Charles feels out of place. Was he not asked yet for a reason? They hadn’t been together long so it would make sense. “Charles lives in Monaco already so I figured his things would be easier to move.” Max explains.

Now he’s confused. Something Max can clearly see. They make eye contact for a moment and Charles is left a mess. “Unless you don’t want to anymore?”

Charles is shaking his head no at lightning speed. He definitely wants to. He’s tired of living alone and throwing himself pity parties over breaks. Plus, he learns he sleeps better when he's not alone.

~

Moving feels more sentimental to her this time. She had more stuff than when she was fifteen.

Sbeastion offered to let them fly private with him to help move her stuff to Monaco. She wanted to, but it was unnecessary. Most of her belongings that she needs fits into an extra suitcase.

Max and Charles both kept asking her if she had anything else. It was getting on her nerves a bit.

Hanna and Seb had done the same thing when she first came to Germay. Though she had less then. Hanna had taken her to get some new clothes because her t-shirts all had holes in them.

Flights were weird. The first class has two seats for each row, meaning that one of them got to sit somewhere else. They often played musical chairs on the plane because of this.

She'd always had an affinity for even numbers.

It was an interesting dynamic they had created. Charles and Max are barely a month apart, and she's just turned nineteen. They get to do things she can't yet. But she's gentle and knows exactly what they need and is far to gentle for what she's been through.

Charles felt that he was playing catch up with the other two. He was new to this and still new to them. He, however, was the best at communication between the three.

Max, having grown up in an interesting family setting, is aggressive and protective. His communication skills are lacking, but he would do anything to keep his significant others out of harms way.

Today was one of those days that Max was struggling communication wise. It had started after an intense phone call where the other two were attempting (and failing) at deciphering dutch.

She'd offered to sit next to him if he needed consoling, but he decided to sit further away from the two. Leaving them to figure out what happened.

This had brought the thoughts of even numbers. If they were flying with four of them, Max wouldn't be able to mope alone.

"Do you think it was Jos?" Charles asked. His eyes had been on the Dutch for most of the flight.

"I would assume so given that he was speaking Dutch, and he doesn't do that with many people."

Both sigh. Jos had been on Max's ass about moving up into a championship title. Che was ready to have some words, either him, next time they were together, and Charles was going to start making a point to celebrate every placement in a race.

It didn't take long to get to Max's apartment. It's not the most luxurious, but it's comfortable. He's planning to get something worthy of the three of them after he gets a title.

Max had successfully locked himself away in his bedroom. The other two left to figure out what he needs. Maybe it is just a time thing?

"Is he usually like this after a call with Jos?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "It depends on if he's praising or berating."

"Can we help him?" Charles is eyeing the closed door and her. His brain working out every way to get him to open up.

She smirks. There always one thing that cheered up Max.

~

Max was choking back tears. He felt weak. Like he was never going to he enough.

He felt bad for stomping off the way he did, but he didn't want his partners to see him like this.

He hears the soft rape of knuckles against the door. "Mon Amour? Can we please come in?"

He grunts, but the Monegasque takes it as approval.

Charles peeks his head in. His gentle steps are coming closer to Max. He doesn't look up. He just keeps his head buried in his pillow.

Charles doesn't say anything, which he appreciates. Just sits down on the edge and lets Max's body dip towards his. Then he's running his fingers through Max's hair.

It's not long before another set of footsteps are padding into the room. These ones softer then Charles, telling Max it's y/n.

She's successfully moved both Jimmy and Sassy into the room from their hiding spots and is holding his favorite movie. She sneaks in and closes the door behind her.

They spend the next couple of hours lying in bed with the cats and watching their movie.

Max feels himself calming down. They don't talk about anything. Aside from occasionally copying the lines from the movie they've watched far to many time.

It's after that he feels like he can say something. His mind finally grounded back to reality. "I'm sorry for shutting you both out. I was just... agitated, I guess."

The Monegasque has his fingers back in his hair in an instant. "It's okay, you needed space. Do you want to talk about it now?"

The youngest places sassy on his chest as a way to comfort him. Her hands intertwine with his.

"Just frustrated that my dad thinks I'm not trying. He started spouting that I'll never get anywhere at this rate."

"That a lie. Jos is obviously lacking brain cells." The youngest pipes. "I can throw him into a wall if you want?"

The idea actually makes him smile.

~

Charles was the next to move things in. Though it was mildly awkward explaining to his family why he was moving somewhere else.

Turns out he can't keep a secret. His family is accepting. Pascale welcomes both into her home. She takes a particular liking to the quiet girl who is still always between the two older boys.

His stuff takes up more of the apartment than hers. The contrast of red and blue is now showing everywhere.

"If Charles is red, Max is blue, and I'm always in the middle, does that make me purple?" She spouts while unpacking a box of ferrari shirts.

Max spits out the water he was drinking. Charles starts wheezing. And she is laughing at her own comment.

"Where did you come up with that, Chéri?"

"Just a thought I've been sitting on since we started dating."

"You're not wrong, though." Max is wiping his mouth clean from the water.

~

It's weird going places together. Not errands and things, but social gatherings. Charles has asked to keep things private for now. He's not fond of the questions people have about the nuances of their relationship.

They came and left separately. Usually, depending on who wanted to leave first, the other would wait about fifteen minutes.

A few months into the break, Lando Norris decides to call Max and invite him and his lover to a party. He does the same for Charles a minute after he hangs up with Max.

The three of you have to hold in your laughter as Charles tries to get through the phone call listening to the same details.

Despite what Lando said, this was not the type of party any of you are used to by now. At least not Charles and Max. She'd been to few and got overwhelmed by it all pretty quickly. Sometimes, she'd use it as an excuse to get the boys out of the apartment so she could have the cats to herself and play around with her powers.

Charles and Max both hate it when she does it alone. They've found her on the floor passed out on multiple occasions. She doesn't care, though. The visions and nightmares of her father were more reason to keep going.

Regardless, this party is small. Just a few drivers who had been in town or live in Monaco are here with their partners.

Kika and Pierre, George and Carmen, Alex and Lily, Carlos is here along with Daniel. Charles is seated in a solitary chair. The couches have been taken. Daniel and Lando on either side of him.

It feels nice and intimate in a way. She hadn't seen many drivers just get together to hang out like this.

Charles is ever the gentleman and offers her the chair, which she takes. Him and Max are now making themselves comfortable on the floor in front of her.

They're eating, drinking, laughing, and sharing stories from the past. It's nice and relaxing.

She taps Max's shoulder, alerting him that she's going for water and asking both boys if they need anything to which they reply no.

She spots Lando in his kitchen getting a drink. It's not an alcoholic one, just juice that looks like it could be alcohol.

She turns on his tap for water, and Lando jumps out of his skin. His eyes rapidly look between her and his cup.

"I like to mix my alcohol with juice...?" His voice sounds unsure. Does he think it's not okay to just have juice?

"Juice is a good choice, in my opinion. Alcohol is strong and feels funny sometimes."

Lando visibly relaxs. "Promise you won't tell anyone? They laugh at me sometimes when I do this."

"I promise."

~

Lando was around more after the party. He seemed comfortable around her and Max. He'd opened up about his anxiety to them and played far to many games with Max.

What they were not expecting was for Lando to show up at their apartment door at three o'clock in the morning. His breathing uneven body shaking like a leaf.

She knew what this was. She'd had plenty of panic attacks.

She guides him inside to the couch and is trying to asses the situation. Get his breathing to calm down so he doesn't hyperventilate.

It takes ten minutes until he's calm.

"Did something happen?"

"Just a nightmare, and I couldn't calm down after."

"Did you walk here?"

He nods his head yes. Exhaustion flooding his eyes.

"Is Max asleep?" He asks.

"Should be. He sleeps like a rock most of the time." They both giggle. Lando is now able to relax in a calm environment.

They are interrupted by two sets of footsteps. Charles and Max come barreling into the living room. Panic on their faces one minute and embarrassment the next. Lando staring at the with the utmost confusion.

The older boys are shirtless and in sweats. Max's arm protectively outstretched in front of Charles.

"...oops."

~

Lando is not stupid. He may be the youngest on the grid currently, but he's not stupid.

He saw how the three of them looked at each other. Charles definitely touched them both far more than what friends do.

Originally, he thought he was crazy for watching them. Yet he couldn't help but be intrigued. How they all interacted. How they just flowed together.

Now he sits on their couch. Max looks like he's guarding Charles and y/n. The Dutch has yet to sit down and is leaning against the wall. Charles is sitting across from him with the females head in this lap. His fingers running through her hair.

It's a terrible feeling. Like he's left out of whatever this is. Three of his best friends spend all their time together, and he's just here. Young and naïve Lando.

"Did you have a feeling this would happen, Mijn liefje?" Asks Max from his perch on the wall. She shakes her head no in response.

Lando had heard about her knack for predicting future outcomes. He'd heard rumors about magic and tarot cards, but she'd never said anything to him.

"Well, you're welcome to stay here in the extra bedroom, and I can't take you home in the morning."

"That sounds nice, thank you."

~

She woke up exhausted. She felt guilty for not having warned Max and Charles. Her mind to far gone that they were mad at her. She spent her night trying to get any glimpse of their future but didn't get anything useful.

She hid herself away in the master bathroom. The wet towel and the floor her new best friend.

She could smell breakfeast. Max is cooking for all of them. They learned quickly not to let Charles cook. Lest they all die.

She was in bed with them this morning. Only crawling out from their hold when she felt them stir.

Every question puts her further into the fog. Was she going to lose them? Are they upset with her? Is Lando okay with them? Would he tell people?

It's too much for her head.

She goes for another attempt. She knows she's overdoing it. The further she goes with less time in-between brings her closer to the edge of her body going numb.

Nausea creeps into her stomach, but she sees them. Further down the line. Happy and four.

Four? This could be shocking, and yet somehow, she already knew. Her mind just needs a but of confirmation that it's possible.

The nausea gets stronger. Her nose is bleeding heavily. She pushed it past the limit.

They won't mind, though.

~

Max is making breakfast and quietly humming to himself. Charles has his hands on his hips, the two of them swaying back and forth to the tune.

"Do you think I should go check on her?" Charles mumbles into his shoulder.

"She may want space after last night, she was taken off guard and might need to peocess." He explains, then turns his attention back to the pan.

"I'm worried, though. She was crying last night after Lando went to bed, and I don't think she slept."

Lando slides around the corner. His face lighting up at the smell of food. "Can I... can I have some?"

Max laughs at the Brit's excitment. "Of course. I made enough for all of us."

Lando sits himself on top on the counter. Watching the Dutch and Monegasque lean into each other. He takes notice that someone is missing. "Is y/n okay?"

Both boys sigh with heavy concern. "She had a rough night." Explains Charles. His body is fighting the urge to go get her. "I can't take it anymore, I'm going to check on her."

Charles leaves Max and Lando in the kitchen. His legs taking long strides back to the bedroom.

"So you guys all sleep together? Not like sexually- I guess - I mean at night to sleep."

Max smiles at the Brit. His curiosity was nothing he didn't expect. "Yeah, we pile into the same bed at night. All of us sleep better that way."

Lando hums. His palm rubs his face with anxiety. "Would you ever add a fourth?-'m asking for a friend..."

Max already knows. Somehow, someway, he already knows where this is going. "Depends. It took months of discussion before Charles joined us. But I'm sure if the right person came along, we'd be open to it." Max turns around to face Lando and shoots him a reassuring smile.

Lando's cheek tint pink, and Max knows exactly what he wants.

~

Charles leclerc is usually someone who panics. This time was no exception.

He'd seen plenty after his six months of being together with his partners. Particularly how the femal among them is prone to violent behaviors against herself. He's seen all of her powers now and how they affect her if she uses them too much. He's been there to help soothe her after night terrors while Max fetches her water.

He was glad she opened up to him about her past more. He knew the generally what had gone on but no details, nothing like what he knew now.

The prospect of her father coming back for her at some point is what drover her to the breaking point on most days.

Now, Charles is faced with a locked door and the sounds of thrashing from the other side. He'd tried picking the lock, something him and Max both learned to do after instances like this, but his hands are far too shaky to maneuver the pins.

So he does the only other logical thing and breaks the door down. Only enough that he can lean it somewhere and not let it fall on her, but it felt cool to kick it in.

Charles has seen a lot of things, but this is completely new. Her muscles are tensing at a rapid speed, and her eyes are rolled back into her head. Her breathing movements are unatrual.

"Max!"

It takes ten seconds, and he's there. His body and mind reacting to the situation. He's trying to hold her in his arms. Attempting to wake her up from whatever trance she's in.

Max hisses through his teeth when he touches her. Her skin in his searing his hands. Yet, he pushes through.

Charles feels helpless. "What can I do?"

"This has happened before. She must have forced a vision. She'll come out of it, we just need to make sure she dosen't die in the process."

The two boys are then lifting her body of the floor. Charles now carries her to the bed while Max runs around grabbing things. Mostly ice to cool her down. Charles rambles on to her about nothing and everything. Max said they should talk to her, giver her some to help bring her back.

Both of them forgot they left Lando in the kitchen. The Brit left to finish making breakfast in light of their emergency. Again, they are shocked to see his pale face watching the scene unfold before him.

"Can I help?" Is all he can manage.

"Do you want to trade places with me? I think the liquid benadryl might help."

Lando is taking over for Max tentatively. He takes the ice pack from the Dutch and places it on her forehead.

Lando can see the sweat and tears mixed with fresh blood. It's scary, and he's nervous. Why are they not taking her to a hospital?

Normally, she's the one calming him down. She always knows exactly what he needs to hear. He's not been in this position, and it scares him to see her like this.

He slides one hand down to her bicep. His fingers tap out the melody to her favorite song. A trick she used on him to bring him back to earth when he got in his head.

About halfway through, she's sucking in a breath, her body sitting straight upwards. Her eyes are no longer stuck to the inside of her head. She's still sweating like mad, and her body is twitching, but she's awake.

She's breathing heavily. Dry heaving and coughing into herself. Her hands are quick to find Charles and grasp at him, searching for the familiar comfort.

Lando watches her intently. Her sobs are painful. They sound broken, like whatever she's just been through was some sort of of torcher.

"Chéri, can I set you with Lando for a moment? I need to tell Max you're awake." Charles whispers gently. Lando takes note of how he's cradling her. His hands on the back of her head and under her legs to support her weight.

She barely nods her approval. Her body is slid close to Lando, who embraces her. Attempting to replicate what Charles was doing. He finds himself tapping the same melody on her knees.

"Was that you tapping? When I was asleep?" She chokes.

"Yeah, could you feel it."

She nods her head against his body. "You brought me back, thank you."

Lando lets his body relax into hers, knowing he at least did one thing right today.

~

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @ipabloramos @jayda12 @faithm120601

(comment if you want to be added)

[yanderederee]

DoubleDate,

May14th, 2004

a/n: lol, I wrote this Before MeetMyGang, so details regarding readers first time on a bike aren’t accurate anymore, buuut I don’t think anyone cares~:)

Before! › here! › after!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

You’d admired Baji for a long time now.

He was scary, and strong enough to do anything he put his mind to. He prioritized the people important to him, and took everything involving his loved ones very seriously. He was gentle to creatures weaker than him, and took them under his protection. Baji was sincere and dedicated in everything he did.

Baji Keisuke wasn’t a bad guy. And you loved him so much.

Baji, on the other hand, was having a hard time coming to terms with how he felt about you.

But he couldn’t push down the wonderment you always left him feeling after an encounter. You were his friend, no question. But you were so fragile. Meeker than the punks he usually rode with.

Keisuke still couldn’t admit it, but you’d successfully stolen his heart.

“Dude, invite her out or something. It’s summer break, you won’t see her for another month.”

“I didn’t even say anything?” Baji glared questionably at his blond friend.

“Didn’t have do. You’ve been mopping around all week. Probably because—“

“Chose your next words carefully Matsuno,” Baji cut in monotone. Chifuyu puffed his cheeks. “Fine fine,” he backed off, stretching from his previous spot as Peke J’s bed. “See ya then.” He waved off, throwing his bag over his shoulder and headed to the door.

“Oi! What for?” Baji complained.

Sure he had a lot of better shit he could be doing with his time. He could go to Akihabara for the weekend while his mom was gone. He could ride out anywhere he really wanted to and enjoy the summer time he earned. That you helped him earn.

“Why, i thought you were too busy moping around to notice.” Chifuyu joked without malice. After, he quipped his brand new phone out with a wide grin. “And if you’re ever so curious, Y/nnchan just invited me out to meet at the cat cafe.~”

The first division captain stared at his vice underling with a deep mix of emotion. He could identify one of those complicated feelings as jealousy.

You asked to hang out with Chifuyu? Baji looked over at the vibrant screen of Chifuyu’s phone, barely making out your name. Pink and blue bubbles littered the screen. “When did you get her number in the first place?”

“Not too many of the guys have phones, so Mom, Ryoko and Y/n are my only contacts right now.”

Baji suddenly really wanted a cellphone.

“So, you coming or what?” Chifuyu asked, throwing Baji a balled up pair of black socks. “Why would I come?” He grumbled out.

“Cause she asked me to invite you~” Chifuyu grinned wickedly. His heart stopped for a moment.

“Hurry up or I’m gonna tell her you bailed!” Chifuyu yelled before darting out of the apartment. “Damnit! Hold on you son of a bitch!”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

When the two managed to get to the cat cafe, they were already ten minutes early for the agreed meeting time. “Oh, party of three? Booth 9, enjoy!” The waitress purred once they entered. Confused, they looked over and saw you looking over the menu.

“You’re early!” Chifuyu laughed when he was first to enter the booth. “Chi! Yeah, haha, I was here when I texted you actually.” Your eyes darted over to Baji, happiness spread across your features. “Kei! So happy you came!”

Baji avoided making eye contact, sure to out himself shy if he did. “The hell? Cute~,” Chifuyu laughed again, his comment clearly coming off as more than friendly. Baji felt heat prickle his ears at this point. Was he trying to provoke him?

You laughed at Chifuyu’s comment, and held the menu out to the both of them. “I ordered a few appetizers already, the frushi is actually the specialty of the day!” You chirped along the menu with excitement.

Well, if nothing else, Chifuyu wasn’t a liar. You really were so cute. A little weird and outgoing, but so, undeniably cute.

“I’ll probably get an order of gyoza.” Baji thought out loud, lazily holding the menu in front of him.

Chifuyu ordered a blue ramune poured over a lemonlime soda.

Baji ordered a black cherry soda with a subtle vanilla cream mix rested at the bottom.

And after much deliberation, you decided on a rich brown-sugar milk tea.

“It’s a little surprising how much cats love you, Kei.” You admitted. “No kidding, strays far and wide can’t get enough of him. Baji actually always leaves his bedroom window open for—” Chifuyu went along praising his captain, ultimately leading to his embarrassed captain to cut him off abruptly.

“Oh yeah!! Didn’t you say you had a cat, Chi?” You asked.

“Oh yeah, Peke J! He’s adventurous, and visits with Baji more than he’s actually home. I bet he’d really like you.”

Baji just couldn’t put his finger on it. Chifuyu was just being friendly, yet somehow he was getting under his skin like never before. “Yaknow, Baji and I actually talked about opening a pet shop in the future!”

You beamed in response to the topic, gaze fluttering between the two delinquents. “A pet store?” You asked, nibbling on a gyoza.

Chifuyu glanced over at Baji, hoping he’d jump into the conversation.

This was his role after all, the perfect natural wingman.

Unfortunately, Baji only saw the situation for its surface level; Chifuyu was blatantly flirting with you for the both of them, Right in front of him.

Baji glared a little bit, and shrugged. “Nah, Mikey‘s talkin about seriously applying himself to motor racing. Sounds sweet,” he grinned his canines.

Chifuyu gaped at his answer. Was he trying to look cool? Was he seriously that oblivious to romantic ques?

Yet, ever the same look of amazement, you smiled back. “Motor racing?! I totally forgot that’s like, your guys’ thing, motor bikes!” You visibly prickle with excitement. “I’ve never been close to one actually. They’re really loud and kinda scary from what I see, but you guys use them all the time right?”

The both of them gaped at your reaction. “They seem pretty cool.” You laughed almost awkwardly, Almost as if to let out a hint, but ready to retract at any sign of uncomfortability.

Chifuyu looked at his captain, the stars glaring over his vision obvious. “Baji’s bike is sick! A Suzuki GSX250E! With an attached second seater. He won’t admit it but he saved up a bunch so I could ride alongside him to Toman meetings.” He praised his captains generosity openly again.

“Yer full of shit,” Baji laughed, “I had that thing way before you.”

“How thoughtful! Chifuyu’s pretty new to the gang, so you haven’t saved up enough for a bike yet, right?” You asked Chifuyu, the eye contact you shared making Baji feel a little … possessive? “I’m doing very good saving up for one!” Chifuyu perked up, eager. The only other person he could brag these hobbies with was Kazutora, after all.

“You have a bike model in mind?” You asked, tilting your head, as you allowed an all-white rag doll cat affectionately demand your attention. Baji rose a brow, your choice of words making him curious. “How much you know about bikes?”

You giggled sheepishly, hiding your face in the cats fur. “J-just a little. I just, got a little curious, s-so I learned a few neat facts,” you waved this off quickly, and drew the attention back to one of them. “I really don’t know much besides what a book would tell you. Are you trying to shop for speed or style?”

To you, it seemed like a genuinely honest and curious question. To them, they had finally found something to hold over your smart little head. Something they knew all about, and for you to be clueless!

“Baji goes for speed. I’m thinking as long as I can keep up, I might as well aim for something flashy!” Chifuyu admitted with pride.

“Oi, don’t talk down about my Goki like that! It looks cool as hell,” Baji kicked the blonde affectionately.

“Actually, that makes me wonder, how do you guys even get your bikes? They’re like, triple digit thousand yen. Do you all just have jobs or something?” You asked while more felines covered what was visible of you.

Chifuyu plucks one of the cats what began to claw biscuits into your exposed skin, and cradled it in his arms lovingly.

Baji struggled, stuffing his face with a third gyoza. “My bike didn’t really ride when I first found it. A real piece of junk. But I brought the pieces to Shin and asked if he could make it drivable.”

“Guess it wasn’t in that bad o’f shape. Polished up the framework and helped put the parts together, baby was driving the next two months.”

“So Mikey’s brother spotted you the cost to restore your shitty bike?” Chifuyu teased. “Asshole! I paid with physical labor for that bike!” Baji pushed.

Putting the context clues together, you asked without filter, “Shin sounds like a nice guy, helping you restore a bike so willingly. Maybe he could give you tips, Chifuyu.”

The atmosphere got deathly quiet.

No one wanted to say anything, evident on Baji’s hardened expression and Chifuyu being visibly nervous. “He’s dead,” Baji said finally, no indication to continue.

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that,” you say quietly, briefly lowering your head to show your condolences. “Based on how you speak of him, Mikey seems to take after him. What does he drive?” You asked, making an attempt to sweep the rough atmosphere away.

To you, it seemed as though the subject of Shinichiro’s passing was an unpleasant one. You felt it impolite to pry.

Baji looks you over, noticing your calm demeanor as you handled the tense answer he just gave. He was used to people acting nervous around him if he wasn’t careful. But he liked feeling as though he didn’t need to filter his words to appear kinder, when he simply didn’t want to talk about it. Baji really liked the way you always treated him so kindly, accepting his sharp attitude without taking it personally.

“A Honda. CB250t.” Baji answered without reluctance. He didn’t mean to come off prickly, but the pause insinuated otherwise.

You began thinking something over in your head, before a cat pounced to get your attention, making you shriek with laughter.

“Sorry sorry,” you apologize to the jealous cat, divvying out a generous handful of treats. This distraction seemed to serve as a middle point of the lunch. Drinks were about finished, food demolished, and the sun was still high in the sky.

Chifuyu yawned, and stretched his limbs. “Way too nice to just go back home though,” he admitted, tossing his head in Baji’s direction. “What’s everybody else doing?”

Baji reciprocated the yawn, and rested his head on the back of the chair. His eyes were focused on you as you played so joyously with the cats. He couldn’t get over just how cute he thought you were. He’d be damned if he said that out loud though.

Not realizing he had went silent, Baji lost himself in through, gaze softened your way. He was so used to his obnoxious glasses blocking this lovestruck look, he found himself doing it again without them.

Chifuyu took note of this, getting mild second hand embarrassment from how oblivious Baji was.

Chifuyu wanted to feel grateful that, at least, you were too distracted by the cats to notice his captain’s affectionate stare. Except, when he glanced over at you, Chifuyu saw a twinkle of something in your eye.

You knew Baji was staring at you. And by acting as though you didn’t notice, you soak in the unintentional affection, with a blush and a smile.

Chifuyu felt his heart rate Racing at this point. This was The Most silent, yet intense, atmosphere of backhanded flirting, without so much as eye contact to fuel the flames.

The waitress had made her rounds by this point, clearing the table of everything, and asking you three if you would like anything to go. “I’d like to order two shortcakes, and three lemon iced teas please! One yuzu, rose, and lavender.” You agreed, while Chifuyu added a specialty lemonade on the to go order.

“I don’t have anything else to do,” you admitted while the three of you gathered your bearings. “Any plans?” You asked, giving no credit to Chifuyu’s exact same question that’d went ignored earlier.

Baji shruggled. “Nah. All that talk about bikes for me itching to ride, though.” He smirked.

Baji liked you, he really did. This whole time, he had made an effort to push you to not get too close. But this moment, covered in cat hair, disheveled and smiling so affectionately. Baji couldn’t help but ask,

“How bout it? You think modified bikes are cool, how bout taking a ride on one?”

The way your face lit up at his question blinded the two delinquents. “Really?!” You asked, clearly excited. “Well don’t get all misty eyed!” Baji blared back, embarrassed.

Once the three of you had gotten your to go orders, you all made way back to their apartment complex to pick up Baji’s bike and keys.

Being the sweet little thing you were, you bashful admitted the to-go order you placed was actually meant for their mothers. “Moms like it when you get them a little treat, to show your gratitude!” You reasoned with their confused response.

The first stop came to Chifuyu’s apartment, since it was two floors below Baji’s.

Chifuyu sighed, a little embarrassed at the way you chatted so openly and casually with his mom.

“She probably thinks y/n’s my girlfriend, she always jumps to conclusions like that.”

It was quiet when Baji didn’t give a reaction. He’d planned on simply waiting patiently for you to finish. He could help but notice the way you chatted this same way with his own mom.

“Guess that wouldn’t be so bad.” Chifuyu whispered by accident. Your conversation with Chifuyu’s mom died out from Keisuke’s ears, the only thing he could register was Chifuyu’s whispered words.

He knew he was overthinking it, so like everything else, he pushed the thought down, even if it did bother him.

“Well, I wanted to drop off the lavender tea and cake! I’m glad to know you’re well!” You went to wave your goodbye. “Finally we can go!” Baji grinned, hyping up his spirit to ride. “Not so fast,” you shook your head at him. “Still gatta drop off the cake and tea I got for your mom!”

Baji was stunned once again. He really did try having patience with you, but damn were you making it difficult. Without argument though, the two boys followed you to the sixth floor.

“Y/n!! I’m so happy to see you,” Ryoko sighed with contentment when she’d successfully tucked under her arm in a big hug. “Jeez, glad she doesn’t greet me that way,” Baji mumbled to Chifuyu, who laughed in response. “Cake and tea? I knew you were my favorite kid,” she took a sip of the yuzu lemon iced tea.

“Hate to remind you that I’m an only child, hag,” Baji bit back. “Gonna change; the cat hair’s starting to itch.” He rolled his eyes, leaving Chifuyu alone with the girls. “So, how’s my second favorite kid?” Ryoko asks with comical volume, aimed in Chifuyu’s direction. Chifuyu chuckled at the muffled “shut up!” that came out of Baji’s room, holding up the keys to Baji’s Suzuki.

“She’s never been on a bike before, so Baji’s gonna take Y/n riding before the meet up tonight.”

“Oi, Kei! You be careful!” She yelled seriously, sashaying over to the spare coat closet. “Do you have an extra helmet?” She asked, earning an annoyed grunt from her teenage son.

“Yes, I have an extra helmet-“ he tried agreeing with her, “is it clean?” She asked, making Baji pause his response. “…Who was the last to wear it again?”

Ryoko sighed, and pulled down a dark purple cycle helmet. “Please wear this,” she asked you, holding the sturdy plastic into your hand. “I used to wear it when I’d go out riding. ‘Long as you and Kei stay friends, use it for me, alright?”

Needlessly sentimental, you hugged her as you’d accepted the helmet before your exit.

“Where do you usually keep your bike?” you asked, aware that parking one’s bike at home can be dangerous. “Theres a cheap parking garage down the street.” Baji nodded in the direction of the garage when the turn came up.

Once making it in, the three of you circled the bike in admiration. “It’s nice,” you hummed, modestly squatting to checkout the details of the bike. “It’s okay if I touch right?” You asked.

Nervously, Baji squats beside you and made a gesture to show it was fine to do so. Ever so gently, you traced your fingers along the exhaust pipe, as though you would peel away the metal to look further inside. Quietly, you hummed, and examined the parts most visible. “It’s big though, I don’t think my feet can reach the peddle..”

Both Baji and Chifuyu laughed. “You thought i was gonna just let you ride my bike like that?” He asked as though it wasn’t even a consideration. “Huh? Is that not what you meant earlier?” You asked, embarrassed. Baji laughed again, barely making it to his feet.

“You dork! I was just gonna drive you around some backroads.” He ruffled your hair roughly. You gave a sheepish “oh” before looking away in embarrassment. “W-well, that’s fine.” You said, a little shyer this time.

Chifuyu’s eye glinted from your wit.

Chifuyu could read you like the back of his hand, a feat Baji was clearly oblivious to. By acting shy, you automatic lit a flame of nervousness under Keisuke’s idea of a platonic activity. You were hinting at the exposure—tiptoeing that line of flirtation neither of you quite crossed.

And Baji fell for your tricks like a lovesick fool, suddenly bashful and confused for as to why.

“What ‘bout you Chi?” You asked, lining the scene with a comfortable middle ground between both boys. Body language gave away you still tried including Chifuyu, as to not kick him out as an unnecessary third wheel.

“Kinda itchy with cat hair, honestly. Think I’m gonna take a shower and check out what Ryusei’s doing. Catch ya later?” He asked.

It was Chifuyu’s turn to finally let go of the reins; he’d secretly initiated the date, lead the conversation, and got you two to this point. His job was complete. Satisfied, he turned to walk away. “Wait,” you pulled on Chifuyu’s sleeve, subconsciously making the boy lean into your cupped hand. “Thanks for today, it meant a lot to me.” And with an innocent kiss to the corner of his lip and cheek, you doddled back to Baji, who’d bucking his heel against the kick Stand.

Chifuyu wouldn’t stop thinking about that chast kiss you gave him. How soft it was. How precise your movemeets were— you had Meant to kiss him where you had. Not enough to consider romantic, but definitely a forewarning that it could have been. He was swimming in those thoughts, even when he watched you and Baji plow down the street happily.

Was he seriously falling in love with his Boss’s crush?

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [3]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [4] previous chapter: [2] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 5.7k

status: in progress

author's note: in my head i have a certain way this story ends- but thats farrrr from this chapter. i couldn't stop laughing while writing this. i might have to rethink my ending bc i don't wanna make this series looooong. not edited.

Brutal banging on your bedroom door was not how you imagined to be awakened, especially when you were barely endearing maybe four hours of sleep.

Jolting up, you could feel your shoulders begin to ache as your severely tangled hair got stuck on the insides of your shirt. The shades in your room being shut, you had no sunlight whatsoever so you weren't sure what time it was.

Not like you needed to be anywhere important on a Wednesday- not until later anyway. Wednesday's were your arranged day off from school so you made sure to plan something productive to not feel more useless as you already were.

Typically, you were scheduled to work on these days- but we all know how that ended.

Thinking about your unemployment status aggravated you. The same day you were told you were going to be cut was actually your last despite being scheduled for the rest of that remaining week.

Oh how you wish you could say you didn't show up because of your stubbornness.

But frankly you had covid.

Not only did that job fire you, but they gave you a thoughtful farewell gift of a deadly virus to remember them goodbye.

Guess they took their storyline a little too seriously.

However, you did receive a few texts from your old coworkers wishing you well. At first, you wondered if Finn disclosed your personal medical information after you contacted him, but Jules admitted to doing so, swearing she only told Joon with the likelihood someone overheard and the rest was history.

Sadly, you barely talked to Pedro and Bella anymore.

The duo did reach out once they discovered you were sick and Bella would occasionally send you tiktoks at the most randomly times. But again, occasionally.

Pedro, on the other hand, never got back in touch after his 'feel better' text.

You weren't exactly distraught over it, it wasn't like you two made it your mission as friends to go out every day. But the thing was, you still did that when you worked together. Barely seeing him for a few seconds on some days in the past still meant you got to see him, but now you don't.

And strangely you miss him.

You always heard your coworkers discuss how considerate and down to Earth he was whenever they managed to work with him and you agreed. All the stories of him being one of the rarest, mindful human beings were true.

He was always the one spamming you with texts, but the only messages you received now were from your roommate, Joon, or the deals sent by your favorite food places.

But you weren't going to think too much of it. He's an adult, his days are always scheduled with new projects. You can't blame him for not making time for you.

Two weeks later here you were, using your extra free time to your advantage to stay up past midnight watching shows like Hell's Kitchen while eating ramen noodles.

The only con was you had the tendency to wake up late all the time.

Yanking the warm covers off your body, you slowly slip out of bed trying not to hit your desk by how poor your vision was at the moment. Opening your door, you give daggers to the other person behind it. "Is there a reason why you felt attempting to break my door was necessary?"

Jules sheepishly smiled, lightly rubbing the door in remorse before continuing. "I just wanted to remind you about our study date!"

"That's at 11."

"It's 10:32," she replied, pulling her phone out and showing you.

Gasping, you shut the door in her face before searching for clothes to wear. How could you possibly sleep in?

Actually, it was quite easy with American Horror Story having amazing plot twists. You decided to switch up your late night shows every now and then to spice things up.

But you were certain you turned on your alarm the night before. You must have slept through them. Damn, you were turning into Jules.

Quickly running to the bathroom to take a quick shower, you managed to finish the rest of your routine with ten minutes left to spare. You were certainly glad you could always count on the city's nonstop traffic as an excuse for your late arrivals.

Once you were able to catch a cab, which was a tremendous struggle considering your hand signals weren't clear enough to apprehend, Jules and you made it to a coffee shop a few streets away.

Being your designated place to study, you had to introduce Joon to it. He was practically the fifth member of the group, the third one being one of Jules' friend you frequently talked to and the fourth being the one you shared with Joon.

The best part about this cafe would have to be that it was two stories. You guess you could say you used the upstairs room conveniently when it came to debating, definitely not being afraid to raise your voice when your friends believed disagreeing with your opinions was acceptable.

"I didn't know a triple meant three shots of espresso," Joon pulled a disgusted face as Jules and you arrived to your familiar large booth. Sliding right next to him, you saw the coffee he was drinking was extremely dark. "I thought it meant three shots of creamer."

"For a guy who is phenomenally smart, you are phenomenally stupid," you heard your shared friend, Yoongi, comment after looking up from his notes.

The next hour consisted of the five of you centralizing your attention on your individual work before you decided you wanted to buy a coffee as your energy slowly drained away.

Walking down the stairs and placing a swift order, you stood to the side of the counter waiting as they prepared it. Scrolling through your phone to pass the short time, you felt someone near you.

"Hey, covid girl!" you heard a man exclaim, causing you to rush and shush him before the customers begin giving you the eye. "Long time no see."

"Don't expose me like that! I'm negative," you flush, tapping your fingers on your face to cool it down.

"Don't expose me," he clarifies, taking two steps back. "You're the one who's sick."

"Was," you groan, not standing for his teasing this morning. "Stop messing me with me, Nick. I am just a tired, broke college student who can't take anymore mocking in their life."

Nick chuckles, not denying that may be the case. He understands how you're feeling, he was once a student and knows how stressful it can be. Honestly, he can only imagine how tough it is now compared to when he last attended.

Inflation was no joke.

"I take it you're studying?" he eyes the large black frames on your head and the thick headphones around your neck. You only nod, making him laugh. "Very studious I see, it's a shame they let you go even after I told them not to. You could've done our taxes."

Pulling a forced smile, you just raise your right shoulder slightly not really wanting to talk about it much.

"Good thing I am very understanding," you joke.

"Hell, I wouldn't be," he curses, shaking his head briskly. "The least they could've done was offer another position while we left the country."

"When are you guys leaving anyway?'"

He looks up at the ceiling, trying hard to remember the exact date before clapping his hands. "The 3rd of next month."

"Three weeks from now? Are you ready for the cold and the snow?" you laugh as he shakes his head.

"Dealt with it growing up, don't wanna do it again," he groans before a barista calls out his name for his coffee. He excuses himself for a minute, grabbing the coffee along with a few napkins before walking back to you. "Have to get back to filming, they only gave me a half an hour break before we change scenes. Good look in university, kiddo. If you ever need anything you always have my number."

With that, he retreated back outside but not before sending you one final wave. You loathed the fact you missed them, but you had to get over it.

Grabbing your coffee once your name was called, you walked back up the stairs to find your friends staring at their own laptops as if they were going to breakdown in tears any second.

"When I tell you I would rather give up one of kidneys than learn about screenwriting," Jules weeps, pulling her hair in distress. "I just wanna tell people what to do, not write stories."

And that's how your whole study session went, one of you having your own malfunctions for the next few hours before the five of you agreed to end it.

"I am going to get a refill, meet you by the door?" Jules asked as you packed up your school belongings. You nodded, allowing her to walk downstairs with her friend as you stayed behind with the two other boys.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Joon called out as the three of you were making your way down the stairs. "I'll be out in a jiffy."

With that, Yoongi and you were stuck around a large crowd of customers trying to get their coffees in this 5 o'clock chilly evening. And one thing about these customers, they loved to push.

"If one more person hits my arm a brawl will unfold," Yoongi proclaims, making sure to raise his voice a bit to make his point come across. Which did nothing as he was granted another push in his arm in return.

Moving you head towards the exit, you made it clear to Yoongi that you two were better off just waiting outside unless you wanted to continue being compressed by total strangers whose been god knows where.

Feeling Yoongi's loss of touch from your shoulder, you sensed a group of friends rudely crossing between you both in order to make it to the front of the shop.

It amazed you how people had no manners in public places.

"Ah!" you shriek, feeling somebody aimlessly hit your body hard, knocking the wind out of you as you fell on your side.

That was until arms wrapped tightly under your upper arms, barely being able to stop your whole body from touching the ground as you felt you legs lay across the cold floor.

With the strong pair of arms effectively pulling you up, it caused you to slam your body against their unknown chest as the mob of customers didn't seem to die down any time soon.

Trying to find some stability, your eyes widened as your peripheral vision was met with a broad chest that you were too scared to figure discover who it belonged to.

This could either end with you meeting the love of you life or encountering a complete weirdo.

Moving your gaze upwards, you were met with familiar brown eyes that creased slightly as a gentle smile was released.

Okay, the second option was indeed your answer.

"Pedro? You fucking scared me!" you pushed him away, slapping his chest as he whined in response, clutching it in pain. "I was going to grab my pepper spray!"

"I see you're still satan," he glared as you crossed your arms. "No 'thank you for saving my severely mentally mad life from the mass of people who could've stamped over me'?"

Expressing an infuriated expression as he scared you, you begin to walk away from him but he quickly pulls you back into his arms and stares down at you. "Why are you leaving?"

"My friends are outside," you declare as he peers over the crowd to see who you were talking about.

He glances back down at you before pushing you straight by your waist, causing you to trust his guidance as he directed you backwards until you were against one of the walls to avoid being crushed again.

"Wait, my friends-"

"You wear glasses?" he slightly grasps the frames propped on your face, generating a strike from you. "What a dweeb you are."

"Isn't this a question you can ask through text?" you remark, causing him to purse his lips at how mediocre you were being.

"Oh come on, kid! I haven't seen you in weeks, it's my right to ask questions," he defends, giving you a staggering look as you sighed.

"And my glasses were the first thing that came to mind? Very clever."

"Would you rather me ask why we say 'cool' when it's not really cold?"

Studying his face in pure boredom, you set out to march past him but he pushes your shoulders back again, forcing you to stay put. "Sorry! Just trying to lighten the mood."

Scanning past him, you tried to locate your friends but to no luck they were absent. Glancing back up at him, you take a deep breath. "I really have to go before they leave me stranded a-."

"I can take you home," he instantly speaks up. "I know where you live remember."

Laughing, you disagree with his proposal. You arrived with Jules, you were leaving with her. But you were curious as to why he hasn't left you alone. It surely couldn't be just to chat about corny jokes-

Actually, you've had many of those conversions in the past.

"Is there a reason why you aren't letting me escape?" you blurt out, making him tilt his head suspiciously, trying to figure out what you were speculating.

His body language became edgy as he motioned his palm out in front of you. "I just so happened to drop by for some coffee and ended up being tackled by you," he confessed, making you scoff. "We haven't talked for some time, I wanted to check up and see how you were doing."

"I am as happy as a clam," you let out a radiant smile, making him squint his eyes and direct them to the side.

"English, please?" he pleaded.

"It means I am very happy," you respond, standing up straighter as he questioned you longer with his eyes as if he didn't believe a single word you were saying. "Everybody knows that expression."

"They really don't," he denies, giving you an awkward smile by your strange dialogue. "Anywho, I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Then why didn't you call?" you accidentally spit out, shutting your mouth as you grasped how bitter it came out.

He caught onto the sound of your tone, registering how unhappy you must've been for abandoning you friendship after strongly bonding for two months.

But he couldn't let you believe he did it on purpose, he had a reason. One that he was finally going to disclose after fighting battles until it was finally approved. "I was preoccupied with something else, I really am sorry," he apologized. "But I was going to reach out today."

Uncomfortably shrugging, you don't put too much thought into it. You didn't want him to assume you were upset, but you had a feeling he could sense it by how tense you were becoming.

"For what?"

He looked around before averting his eyes back to your own, grinning widely. "So I think there's a chance you'd be able to get your internship back."

Standing up straighter, you stared at him dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?

"How? They already terminated our useless contracts," you argue. "Why hassle making another one."

"Work for me," he ignores your sour tone, getting straight to the point.

This was why he didn't have time to communicate. Too busy trying to find ways to convince his own boss to keep you, it led to him being in a bad mood after failing each attempt.

He couldn't talk to you knowing his plan went wrong.

After the constant begging, whines, and even going out of his way to format a ridiculous petition as to why you should stay, which centers all interns because he didn't want to throw himself under the bus for you- the main producer eventually gave in.

"You want me to work for you here when you're leaving the country in a few weeks?" you narrow your eyes, confused as to how that was going to work out in the end.

"I was going to sneak you into my suitcase."

"What in the world are you rambling about?" you exhaled sharply.

Pedro grinned brightly as he held onto your shoulders again, "Come with us to Canada."

"No," you quickly answer, not even processing fully but you knew it could never happen.

There was no possible way you could ever go through with this. For one, you can't even leave the country. You parents were so strict they'll probably smuggle drugs in your luggage so you'll be gunned down and locked into the country.

Second, well there really isn't another reason- your parents were enough.

"Oh come on," he whined. "It'll be great! You'll gain so much experience like you've been wanting. Plus, you'd do more hands-on work with the film crew. Think of it as a student exchange program."

"That's literally not what a student exchange program is."

"Stop rejecting the idea. You go to school here, yeah? I assume you're taking classes online because you basically lived at the studio," he implied and you slowly nodded. "We can adjust your schedule to where you'd have time to work and focus on school."

Silently looking to the table nearby, you began digesting what he was going on about. It wasn't a bad idea, but it wasn't an easy one either. "My parents would never let me."

"Give me their number and I'll convince them," he persuades and you sway you head. You wanted to laugh in his face if he really believed he could make your parents agree.

"No," you fight back, watching him exhale loudly by how restrained you were being. "I k-"

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Immediately shutting your mouth, you freeze as he catches you off guard. He did not come to play and knew you well enough to use your weaknesses against you.

He knows Matt Healy would easily agree- that man was literally the devil's spawn.

And god, you just knew Matt would be disappointed in you if you didn't go.

Curse you and your infatuation over this short English man.

Luckily, your thoughts disappeared as you felt a tap on your arm. Looking up, you see Yoongi breathing heavily as Pedro eyes him, unsure if you knew him.

"There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere! My god the lecture your friend gave me about losing you-" he groaned, shivering. "-I was certain she was gonna file a police report."

Slowly averting his eyes to the older man beside you, Yoongi's face fills with curiosity. "Hey, aren't you that one guy from that Netflix show..." he stops, looking up as he tried hard remembering the name. "Narcos!"

Pedro's eyes shoot open as he tries to innocently stretch his body, purposely blocking your view of him, "No." Secretly waving his palm across his neck, he sends Yoongi daggers to keep quiet. Stiffly turning to you, he becomes flustered. "But don't watch that show."

Raising a brow, you decide to drop the random topic and focus your attention back to your friend until you heard another person shriek. The three of you searching to where it came from, you find Namjoon stumble between people, trying his hardest not to fall face first on the floor.

"A jiffy later and I'm back," Joon winks once he's released from the mass.

Pedro scrunches his face. "Jiffy?"

Joon breaks out into smiles once he notices who was with Yoongi and you. "Oh my gosh! What are you doing here? Did you miss us that much?"

"I don't think it was you he missed," Yoongi muttered, making Pedro send him a questionable glance and Joon tilt his head, not sure what he meant.

Wanting to leave this now weirder conversation, you step forward and grab onto Yoongi's shoulder. "Let's go, I wanna breathe." Turning your attention back to Pedro, he swiftly moved his eyes from your hand to your own. "Text me if you need anything else."

"Only you," he sends you a cheeky smile making you blush by how nice he was being. Yoongi glanced at the two of you, dazed as what you two were implying.

Staring at him, you waited for him to say his farewells first so everybody could leave already. Waiting for one, you never received anything but his quiet stance and gaze stuck on you.

It felt strange not feeling the strength to walk away- not even the strength but the need to go anymore as you couldn't take your eyes off him. It also wasn't only you as he couldn't help but bear comfort from the sight of you.

It felt like the both of you were interacting to each other in your minds.

"Are you having a staring contest?" Joon questioned, making your your consciousness come back to life as you looked back at him. Pedro's gaze weakened, but they were still on you as yours was unfortunately long forgotten.

"No," you laughed, now gripping onto Yoongi harder. "But seriously, let's get out of here. See you whenever, Pedro."

Watching as you stayed close to your guy friends in hopes of being secured through the populated room, he sighed to himself. He was sure your friends might confess their own intuitions to you and perceive him as a creep.

The sad part was he knew why your particular friend would have his suspicions. He never knew his age would have that much of an effect, but he never hung out with people that young before unless it was for a project.

Shaking these thoughts away from his head, he chuckled to himself. He shouldn't care about what other people thought, the two of you never engaged in anything but friendly encounters.

He just despised his gut feeling as if he was doing something wrong. People are making him feel this way, that was guaranteed.

But he feels awful how he keeps trying to find ways to see you, too embarrassed to think about the things he done just to see you for not even a minute.

He's just never had a friend like you before. It was nice.

"I can't believe he's offering us a job like that!" Jules exclaimed as Joon and you nodded. Yoongi lived in the opposite direction so he made his departure a few minutes ago as well as her friend. "I can't go."

Widening your eyes, you stared at her. "What? Why?"

She laughs before pointing at herself. "You think I'll be able to properly manage school and work in another country? I barely did that these last two months- I'll just be partying it up at hockey games eating gravy with fries."

"You mean poutine," Joon corrected.

"Same thing," she rolled her eyes. "All I'm saying is, being home made me realize how much I love sleeping. I would rather give that up when I graduate and actually have a real adult job."

She did have a point, she really enjoyed her naps.

"I'll consider it," Joon spoke up, putting his hands inside his hoodie as the three of you continued walking. "Doesn't sound too bad, it'll look good on resumes."

Smiling, you nodded. You weren't sure why you even dared to be happy about this when you were the one wanting nothing to do with the idea not even a half an hour ago.

You just knew your lord was giving you a disapproving glare from the clouds.

Within the next 20 minutes, Joon went his separate way home as Jules and you arrived in front of your shared apartment. Rushing to the bathroom, your roommate excused herself for the next hour for her 'needed' relaxation.

In other words, a bubble bath.

Turning on the tv, you sat down on the couch swiping through boring news channels until you decided to switch to Netflix. You still had to make time for Evan Peters before the night ended.

Clicking on the current season you were on, Freak Show, you began thinking about how massive Evan Peter's hands were. How can his girlfriends survive.

The thought freaked you out, this really was a freak show.

Soon, the next episode began featuring Twisty the clown more and you were terrified by how huge he was. He could crush you with a flick of his fingers.

Knocks on your door alarmed you, making you slightly jump and look towards the bathroom. Your roommate's music was softly playing in the background meaning she probably couldn't hear the blows on the door.

Slowly standing up, you grab the bat you keep near the door, in case someone tries viciously murdering you in your doorway, and go on your tiptoes to see what kind of stranger needed to pay a visit in the middle of the night.

Well, it wasn't even 7 o'clock in the evening yet but you get the point.

Gasping at the sight presented through your little peep hole, you promptly unlock the handles before extending the large door wide. "And why exactly are you here? Miss me that much?" you tease.

Not receiving an answer, you scoff. "Are you really giving me the silent treatment? You're hurting my feelings."

When he didn't react to that either, you felt your face drop. Slowly striding towards him, you notice his head was low as he stared at his shoes. Placing your right palm softly on his left shoulder, you felt him glance up.

Did something happen during your short time apart? Was he in trouble?

Knowing it was really you in front of him, Pedro lunged his body onto yours before you could stop and think about what was happening. Colliding his lips upon yours, you felt your thoughts drift away as he steadily moved forward and made his way inside your warm apartment.

Stopping to swiftly shut the door, you had no time to take in a full breathe before his mouth found yours again. Clutching the back of his head, probably pulling his hair out, you groan as his nails claw your exposed waist, your shirt slowly inching up more and more as the seconds went up. Slipping his tongue inside you, you felt the way his nose hit yours as dominance took over.

He wanted to control all of you.

It wasn't until your legs began wobbling from the long standing when his hands lost your waist, instantly making contact with the back of your thighs, squeezing them, soon allowing them to suffocate his sides. Following his lead, you pull your lips back before diving them to the corner of his jaw as he groaned, walking to god knows where.

You figured out where once you shrieked as your back made contact with your couch, his palms widening your legs in a hurry before situating himself on top of you. Surprisingly, the difference of weight wasn't an issue as he clinged harder against you, moving his hand behind your neck to pull it down, making sure to make you feel the pain of the slight hair tugging.

"What are y-" you softly choke, voice coming out in whimpers as he ignored you. Latching his lips to the top of your chin, he stuck his tongue out, dragging it gradually down your neck as your back arched, needing to feel closer to him if that was even possible. Your wish was his command as he hastily pressed himself against you, making you groan in surprise.

Making his way lower, he passes your neck down to your chest while his hands found their to your collarbone, smoothly rubbing the area up and down before clutching onto it harshly as he continue down his path. Something about the way his soft fingertips applying pressure near your neck as his lips kept kissing the rest of your body had you in wonders. You couldn't believe this was happening.

It wasn't until you felt his mouth near your exposed waist that made you completely lose it. You had long forgotten that Jules was in the room next door when you gasped, feeling his teeth swipe against your skin. "Shhh," he whispered against your lips as a way to silence you. "Don't want to let your friend know I'm here now, do we?"

You could only stammer shaky sounds as he planted a few more deep kisses, slowly pulling away and feeling the wetness of both your mouths descend down. He gave you one last dark gaze before returning his mouth on yours, loving the feeling of the dampness between your faces.

His mouth opening wider, he began intensively tasting you, swiping his tongue around your lips as you tried to keep up with his eagerness. Not giving you much time to catch his pace, you could feel how wet he was making you.

No, he was literally drowning your face.

Pulling back, you squint your eyes and take a few seconds to adjust to the poor lighting in your living room. You were met with dark, green eyes.

Lady Gaga.

Shrieking, you grab the black, green-eyed demon on top of you and throw her off, causing her to let out a loud hiss with the immediate sounds of footsteps following afterwards.

"Lady Gaga!" you hear Jules squeal in her pink robe, wrapping the nauseating cat in her arms before turning to you, giving you a look of rage. "Did you throw her?!"

"She licked me!"

Jules scoffed harshly before hurling a nearby pillow at you, allowing it to hit your face in full force before stomping back to her door and violently slamming it shut.

You fucking hated that cat.

Laying back against the couch, you rubbed your red face in humiliation. Not only did you have an intense dream about Pedro but you're pretty sure you just had a full on make-out session with a cat.

Groaning, you couldn't believe what was happening to you. Why would you dream about him-

No- why would you have one doing not so child friendly activities?!

You just know you'll never be able to face him with a straight face, too embarrassed to even be near him now without thinking about this moment.

It wasn't even like you thought about him in that way- you didn't.

Maybe your time of the month was approaching or you were in desperate need of a date because there's no way any normal human being would fantasize over some older man that way.

Okay, maybe it was possible.

But that was definitely not you...even though you just did. Although, you did see the comparison between him and Lady Gaga.

They looked kind of alike- right? Same whiskers.

One thing that was certain was you were never going to tell anybody about this. If people believed for one second you had feelings for him, which you don't, you'll never hear the end of it.

He was not your type nor close to your age. It would never happen.

Sighing, you close your eyes and silently send out a prayer to not engage in another session with the demonic cat. Maybe sleep will make you think clearly once awoken and abolish all these wild concepts floating through your head.

But once you were actually awoken, your mind still wasn't clear- or maybe it was because the pounding on your door ultimately pulled you from your slumber.

Stretching your arms, you scratch the top of your head as you try to open your eyes but it was no use, you were way too tired to fully engage with anybody right now.

Completely avoiding looking through the peep hole, which was a red flag on your part, you swing the door open to find a man who looked like Pedro standing on the other side of it.

Groaning aloud, you slap yourself as he takes this by surprised, not sure why you just did that.

How are you having another dream about him? Was this the bad luck needed after scoring tickets to your favorite band? Is this some kind of sick revenge someone has against you?

Pointing at Lady Gaga, who was dressed up as Pedro, you rudely spit out the words needed to be said. "You are just a cat. Nothing happened between us."

With that, you step back inside, ignoring Lady Gaga's attempts of trying to gain your attention by waving their arms in front of you. Making your way to your room, you see Jules walk out of hers.

"Who was that at the door?" she questions, hearing another round of knocks appear.

You tiredly wave your hand in nonsense, denying that thought. "It was Lady Gaga, go back to bed."

Jules sends you a bewildered look as you enter your bedroom and face-plant on your cozy bed, allowing sleep to reel you back in. Turning her head, she looks at Lady Gaga who was sitting casually by her bedroom door.

"She is turning fucking nuts," she whispers to herself before swiftly opening the door to reveal a very confused Pedro. "What's up?"

Pedro's concerned face takes over his actions as he jumps to his eager questions. "Is y/n okay? She thought I was a cat."

Jules shrugs, rubbing her eyes with her palm. "Who knows, I think she's getting over her coffee hangover."

Pedro carefully nods, still skeptical as to what happened to you. What did you mean nothing happened between you two? Did something happen that he wasn't aware of?

Were you hiding something from him?

Gracelessly gesturing his leave, Pedro walked quickly down the hall as Jules stood there for a moment too tired to comprehend why he paid the apartment a visit this early in the morning. The sun was barely out, why did he come?

After shutting the door and taking a seat on the couch, she laid back and stared at the ceiling. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but for some reason a strange intellect emerged out of nowhere.

She shrugged it off, instantaneously knocking out, too exhausted to conquer her suspicions.

+

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[i0veless]

CELEBRITY CRUSHES :: PABLO GAVI

𖥻 SUMMARY ー [ an interview can lead to a lot ]  𖥻 PAIRING ー [ pablo gavi x fem! actress! reader ]  𖥻 GENRE ー [ fluff, slight angst? ] 𖥻 WORD COUNT ー [ 1.1k ] 𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ idk if there are any - let me know if I missed any ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ this fic was inspired by @dachher and this short fic of theirs, and before you ask, I do have permission to use it as inspiration, and I hope you enjoy reading this ]

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The internet is a strange place. It's funny how a harmless clip can spiral into an imaginary romance in the eyes of the general public, even though the two in question had never met. Y/N L/N had never met Pablo Gavi. Sure, she had heard of him - though nothing beyond the highlights of football aired on sky sports late at night. But she knew of him nonetheless, as his good looks led the Euphoria actress to stalk his instagram for a couple hours on a boring Friday night.

So it was safe to say the actress was surprised when she woke up to her name trending next to Gavi's on Twitter. With thousands of people tweeting and retweeting about their supposed 'relationship', but one thing that repeatedly appeared was a clip from what seemed to be an interview. Clicking on the short video with tired eyes, only to be met with the attractive Spaniard's face plastered across her screen as he answered the question that seemed to cause the social-media uproar.

INTERVIEW CLIP :: GAVI REVILES HIS CELBE CRUSH TO BE NONE OTHER THAN Y/N L/N | A POSSIBLE BEGINNING FOR A NEW BUDDING ROMANCE AND A FUTURE IT COUPLE IN THE MAKING

Y/N was now wide awake as her mouth hung open in shock, having to rewatch times the clip several to confirm its authenticity to make sure it wasn't her brain playing tricks on her barely conscious brain. Safe to say, after ten minutes of digging, she could confidently say the video was real. And that was probably why everyone in her contacts was blowing up her phone. And why her manager had sent the star 87 texts and 123 calls.

Gulping at many missed calls, the young actress deliberated even calling Tyler back. But she knew better than to leave Tyler Markson on read as her manager's rath would be harsher if she ignored him. So she sucked it up and pressed the call button. As the phone rang multiple before eventually connecting, "hello", Y/N said, almost whispering out of fear. Don't get her wrong, she loved Tyler and considered him one of her best friends, but he was intimidating when angry.

"Look, it's not as bad as it looks. I don't know that guy; I don't have a crush on him. Hell, I don't even find him attractive." Telling lies had become second nature to the actress, so it took little to no effort for her to convince Tyler that there was nothing between them. And that was true. There was no relationship between them besides some slight mutual attraction, but no one needed to know it was mutual.

"Don't worry. It's all good. I just got off the phone with the Barca pr team, and they want you to come in a do a couple of interviews and promo for them, so be ready in an hour. I'll come to pick you up for the flight, and we'll have the shoot's tomorrow." With that, the conversation was over, and the call was cut. And with that, Y/N thought long and hard about what she would do as she packed her bags for the flight ahead of her to Barcelona, Spain.

If Gavi wasn't panicking before, he sure was now. News that a particular actress was coming to be a new celeb face in the ranks of Barca alums, the Spanish man knew precisely who they were talking about. And he was panicking, and it was clear as day to everyone that saw him.

"Amigo, calm down," Perdi said, rubbing his forehead as he watched his best friend pace around the changing room. But Pablo didn't listen and continued walking back and forth like a madman until Lewandowski placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sit down, Gavi"; with that, the young Barca star was seated. "Look, you will be fine." Frenkie De Jong chimed in.

"But what if I'm not? She's going to think I'm weird."

"Gavi, go talk to her after. Maybe even ask for her number."

"What are you talking about? I can't just go to her and say hi can I have your number? She's a huge actress."

"And? you are a huge footballer."

But before the duo could argue any further, Xavi said it was time to go and greet the guest. As they filed out of the room, he caught a look from his manager as if to say, 'don't do anything stupid, kid.' as the Barcelona players all walked to the field, they were met with the sight of the actress and her team stood on the grass getting ready to shoot the promos. Gavi was speechless - she looked even more beautiful in person.

But a cough from Lewandowski stopped him from embarrassing himself further, as he completely ignored the girl as she waited for him to introduce himself. "I'm Gavi," he finally muttered awkwardly, making all his teammates want to strangle him or facepalm into the pitch. "I know who you are, Pablo Gavi" with that being said, the Spanish boy turned red as his Spanish national team shirt.

But his response was cut short by the camera crew who wanted to start filming. As they began to shoot a couple of videos, the players were pleasantly surprised that Y/N was immensely talented. Not that they thought she wasn't, but they assumed her talents only extended to acting, and the fact that she knew three languages (English, Spanish and French) and was decent at football impressed them more. And god, did Gavi look like an idiot as he watched her speak Spanish.

He couldn't help it. Something about how his mother tongue sounded on her made him lose it. And when it came time to give the actress her personalised Barcelona jersey, he wondered what she would look like with his number and name on her back. By the end of filming, all the players could sigh relief as they could finally escape the love-drunk Gavi and run to safety.

And to be honest, Pablo did the same, with his tail in between his legs, dying from embarrassment because of how he acted in front of his crush. And as he wallowed in the sorrow of running his seemingly only chance with the girl of his dreams. He felt a rustle of something in his pocket. Dipping his hand in to see what it was, he was met with a small piece of paper. Pulling it out, he was met with a surprising note from the one and only Y/N L/N.

'Let's forget the clip and start from a blank slate. Call me xxx-xxx-xxx - Y/N &lt;3

He was smiling like an idiot for the rest of the week, and everyone knew why.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Shame on a plate

Happy St. Patrick's Day, slowpokes!

When -- several minutes after Stuck in a damn bed. , after Shane blew up, and you found out that not only Dale, but Maggie saw, too.

What -- Sophia's still missing, Daryl and Carl have one more day in the house on bed rest, and you're dealing with the aftermath of your big brother Shane's actions in the previous chapter and the fact that others saw. The biggest thing you feel is shame.

Relationships -- Found family you and the gang! Lol, always a slow burn Daryl x Reader, there's also some platonic Glenn, brotherly Rick, and Maggie gets protective her new friend (you), and Papa Dale is there

Perspective -- 2nd You, 3rd Daryl

Pronouns -- none

TWs -- other than the hideous screenshot above, there's some language and discussion of abusive patterns and behaviors

How long is it? -- around 4,000 words

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

In this chapter, Reader is struggling with shame, guilt and confusion over how Shane treated them at the end of the previous chapter.

Remember, being hurt by a loved one is not okay. If they are hurting you, they are doing something bad to you. Abuse is not earned or deserved. You are worthy of being safe and unhurt.

For help getting safe, you can call the Domestic Violence Hotline (USA) at 800-799-7233, chat online, or text START to 88788.

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“No, nothin’ like it before, ever.”

Her fingers tap tap tapped against the book in her hands. “I don’t like it. Daddy’s been uncomfortable around him, then I see this happen.”

You twisted your mouth. “It was an argument between siblings.”

“If it was an argument, then why didn’t I see you arguin’ back?”

Stupid, stupid idiot. It kept playing in your head, that refrain. It had a different spin than it did at first. See, at first, your brain repeated it because you’d given yourself fault for what happened, how Shane just…you don’t know what happened. But he behaved very badly.

But then, the refrain kept repeating over and over because you didn’t walk away or fight back when Shane started hurti acting like he did.

You did nothing.

It was the one thing you were not supposed to do. The thing Shane and your Mama always warned you never to do when things got scary. The thing Shane had literally just gotten done practicing with you so that you’d know even more than you already know about how and when to fight back.

All that effort and still, you froze.

Stupid, stupid idiot. You stupid, stupid idiot.

You had to clear your throat. “Beth didn’t see, too, right? Just you?” you hushed. The girl was already timid and uneasy about your group, If she saw what happened, it was the nail in the coffin if you couldn’t fix this.

“No, I was the only one by the window.”

“So he wasn’t too loud, then.” Which meant only Margaret and Dale knew. Your shoulders felt lighter.

“Y/N,” Maggie said to you. “You seem more concerned with others not seein’ what went on.”

“Well, yeah, I’m worried they’d overreact.”

She tilted her chin up and placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, is that what I’m doing? Was my comin’ to check on you an overreaction?”

“No, no, not at all!” you quickly apologized. “Not at all! I’m, I’m happy you care enough.”

“You’re a good person and you’re my friend, which is why I don’t want to tiptoe around this. What your brother just did was bad. You know that was abusive, right?”

Maybe scoffing at her heartfelt, caring statement wasn’t your best idea, but 'abusive' was such a strong word…right? “He’s my brother, and it was a one-off, I done told you.”

“I’m not sure I believe it when you say that,” she next had the audacity to claim. “You haven’t even been makin’ eye contact with me.”

Oh, you want eye contact? I’ll give you eye contact, bitch.

Your inner tea kettle was shrieking to be taken off the burner, and you could not have cared less. “You callin’ me a liar? Calling my brother an abuser? Rich words from someone I’ve barely known two weeks!”

Before any more was said, Dale inserted himself into the conversation, the thing he said he wouldn’t do. “If you want to keep your conversation private, I suggest not raising your voices.”

Maggie’s arms were crossed. She stared hard at you, but spoke calmly. “Sometimes when things are unhealthy, those looking in from the outside can see it better. And I know what I saw.”

“A sibling fight,” you whispered as gently as you could, feeling so heated. “You, you, y-you saw a sibling fight, those can get nasty.” She’s wrong, she’s wrong, she’s not, she’s not.

“You know what? I don’t have time for your pushback if you don’t have time to consider what somebody who’s concerned about you says, Y/N.”

More shame was added to your plate.

Her leaving shouldn’t have felt so awful, but it did. You covered your eyes and exhaled, as if that would help get rid of the worst of it. You then told God how much you hated this, immediately followed by the opposite, as you cursed yourself a little more, why not? You stupid, stupid idiot.

Not only did you disappoint (and insult) your new friend, but you worried it was another strike against your group. Lori and Carl need this place, it’s safe, it’s good, it’s — you stupid, stupid idiot!

But just like that, Maggie then called your name again as Dale was stepping toward you. You turned to see her facing you once more, no longer walking away.

“If this was a dating situation, what would you think about how he behaved, what he did?” she challenged.

As unfair as you thought the comparison was, the answer hit you in the face. Pun not intended, shit, um… at any rate, having Dale close by helped to ease you into the checkmate that Margaret just finished you with.

You hated your answer.

Because if you saw Shane behaving toward a romantic partner the same way he just behaved with you, you know exactly what you’d think and how you’d react. It wouldn’t be a gray situation, it would be black and white.

More shame for the plate. More guilt. More unease, more dread.

Eyes to the grass, you swallowed your pride. “I’d see it the way you see it.”

Maggie shifted her weight from the right to left, then back again, uncertain. “Will you tell Rick?”

You hesitated, too. After all, you’re an adult. You could be married with children at your age, you couldn’t just—“Tattle that Shane…got huffy, lost his cool?”

“Don’t oversimplify, kiddo, you’re smarter than that,” Dale muttered. He and Shane don’t get on (zero idea why, since Dale and you get on so well!) so this is just more bad press against your brother and more shame for your plate.

“But it’s, it’s not that dramatic, none of this has to be dramatic,” you insisted.

Dale answered again. “Then talking to Rick about it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Rick’s family,” Maggie agreed. “So, he’s seems like the best person to help.”

A child in a grown-up’s body is what you felt like. Helpless, naïve, clueless. You stupid, stupid idiot.

They were right, though, Rick could fix this, he could talk to Shane, figure out what that was. And even better — agreeing with Maggie and Dale would get them off your back! For real, what were they doing, an intervention? Because Shaney poked you a little, gave you a little push?

The words felt sinful, but you said them anyway.“I-I’ll, um, I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to Rick.” And, of course, you were then obligated because you despise dishonesty.

Maggie nodded, then put her thumbs in her pockets. Dale nodded and looked at the two of you, then all around. It was very uncomfortable.

It would be nice if instead of real life, this was a TV show or book, you remember thinking. The audience isn’t usually shown the awkward parts in TV or books, would be a waste of time.

“Y/N,” Maggie spoke, breaking the silence. “We have a raspberry thicket by the south-facing property line.” She pointed in the direction. “Completely overgrown. I’m gonna go back in, finish what I was doin’, but let’s go pick some together later, okay? I’ll come find you in a little while?” She smiled hopefully at you, with some pity thrown in.

Returning the smile, you hoped it made you look put-together and self-aware and confident instead of the shameful, idiotic mess you felt like. “That sounds delicious.”

The moment ended, and she went back toward the house. You heard the door open and clack shut again. A desk onto which you could slam you head would be nice, you remembered thinking.

Instead of a desk, though, Dale put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

He sighed. “Alright, troublemaker. Walk with me? We don’t have to talk, let’s enjoy the sunset awhile.”

Not two steps later, and he apologized for his timing in using the nickname that one month ago he’d christened you with. “And Y/N? What Shane did isn’t your fault.”

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Him

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Today marks one week of being stuck in this bed. Day 7.

He’d failed, that’s it. A weak-ass pussy dipshit who’d failed, and was still stuck in a damned bed after a full week.

Tomorrow, Patricia said he’d be cleared to move out. Not that it mattered much, he still couldn’t do enough to be useful. Not that he wouldn’t; he couldn’t. He’d still be on bed rest.

But hey, at least he’d be able to walk to the woods to find a place to squat and shit by himself now, right? Not even too sarcastic, it would be a step up from feeling like a total invalid.

Carol and Lori were doing a special dinner and cleaning up for the family here to try and thank them for everything. Daryl would just…lay in his bed, he figured. Except, all three of those clucking hens that he wished would stop preening him, Patricia, Carol, and Y/N, kept offering to help him eat with everyone else like they was all some big, happy, family.

This time, it wasn’t that he couldn’t; he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to face them all, not yet, it was too much. He could only take a certain level of shame, and his plate was already full.

The saving grace this past week that stopped him from drowning in his shame was his not seeing the whole kit and kaboodle of them in one sitting. Rick had told him a little over a week ago how it was no problem if Daryl left. Just Daryl, he’s pretty sure nobody else got that little talk.

He’d chosen to stay because of Sophia and Y/N. Sophia needed finding. Still does.

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You

-------------------------

Carl is the kind of kid who’s double-digits, yet understands when his mother needs her baby again. Lori had snuggled with him on the bed, and both were sound asleep. Not even you knocking on the door or the door being opened/shut woke them.

Which must be why last night, Rick took the opportunity to bring up what Shane did, right there in the room.

It was a blessing that you didn’t end up having to do the hardest part, bringing it up, you suppose. Shane himself had done it for you. All you had to do was fill in the blanks.

“Said he lost control, acted a certain way,” Rick murmured. “What’d that look like?”

You didn’t want to describe it, it’d sound bad… “Shane didn’t say?”

“I’m interested in what you say.”

“Ah, you want to maintain ‘eyewitness sequeskra — eesh, that’s hard to pronounce. Se-quest-ra-tion?”

Rick did that raised brow squint thing he makes when he’s teasing, as if maybe he was about to call you ‘weirdo.’ But then, his expression faded back to serious and he spoke your name. “We both know he hasn’t been himself. What did that look like today?”

Casually, you told him about the way Shane had gotten intimidating. “You know how he’d talk when he needed to do ‘bad cop,’ it was, it was kinda like that.”

“Anything physical?”

Casually, you mentioned the jabs. “He was pokin’, like, with his pointer finger — and he’s strong, so.”

“Right there?” Rick asked, pointing to his sternum in mimic of how you’d gestured.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a bruise?”

Your neck tightened.

Maggie had spotted it when you were berry picking. One had fallen down your shirt, so you’d pulled the fabric forward and down to retrieve it, and she (and you) saw the bruise forming. You stupid, stupid idiot.

It was fine, it wasn’t a big deal. Bruises happen.

Casually, you joked to Rick, “I get bruises from random shit all the time.”

He didn’t smile.

It actually lessened the shame, rather than adding more. You were grateful.

Continuing, he questioned, “He told me about that collarbone grab, and how he went like this?” And when he motioned with his hand, slowly pretending to clap it against the side of your head, you felt your cheeks heat.

“Once.” The insult he’d smacked you with at the same time hurt more, to be honest. Which…made it all click that what Shane did wasn’t as small a deal as you’d been thinking. Mouth shut, you licked your teeth and stared into space. “Did it to himself first, way more than once.”

Rick watched his wife and son sleeping on the bed and asked nothing more for a few minutes.

You picked at the string that stuck out of your arm wrap, feeling stupid, stupid, stupid, shameful, stupid. Per usual, then you missed your mom—and out of nowhere got swept by that flash flood of resentment toward Rick again.

Shane and you had left your mother alone to scope out the latest at the hospital, to figure out how to get Rick safely out without him decompensating. While you two were gone, what happened happened. Sometimes, you assign blame to Rick for it, as if comatose Rick was the reason your ma got killed. Sometimes, you assign her dying to Shane’s change in character, as if that made it better, gave it an excuse.

Grief gets sticky like that.

“Is that all, or is there any more?”

“He went like this,” you mumbled, and grabbed the neck of your shirt like Shane had. “That’s it, all the dirt. Happy?”

“Y/N.”

“…Sorry.”

“I know this wasn’t easy. Thank you,” he told you, putting his arm on your shoulder. You didn’t want it there, so you moved away. Rick was patient, not reacting a bit.

That was last night. This morning felt pretty normal when you woke up. Carol had shared your tent again. Shane was off in his, so you didn’t see him.

Coffee in hand, you were in in the middle of coaxing one of the pullets to waddle toward you by holding out dandelion leaves when Glenn came to see you. You’d figured he wanted to feed the baby chickens, too, or, even better, that there was good news about Maggie. (She likes him!, she told you herself the other day. She just isn’t telling, you know, Glenn himself just yet.)

“Y/N? How are you?”

“I’m warmed up good with my coffee, how about you? Sleep well?” You kept your smile in when you asked, “Talk to Maggie today?”

“Yeah, yeah, I slept fine, yeah, but, um—you’re like, okay, though?”

A flutter of dread. “Glenn, what’s up?”

“What did Shane do to you yesterday? I heard him—”

“—What did you hear, and from whom?” reverberated from the back of your throat as if it were a growl.

“Dude, chill. I’m trying to see if you’re okay.”

The way you tried to keep your voice calm ended up sounding snotty and insincere. Most likely because you were feeling very insincere. How many people saw or heard about what happened? Naked, you felt so naked and exposed! “Where. Did. You. Hear about it?”

“I heard your brother talking to Rick.”

The twist in your gut eased. “Okay, um, um — what did he, w-what, um, what did he, what did he say?” And how did you hear, do they know you heard?”

“I had the headphones in, but the battery died on your mp3 while I was going to the bathroom—”

“—Daryl has the mp3,” you thought aloud.

“He let T-Dog borrow it, who let me borrow it. I-I ate something that didn’t agree with me, so…”

Oh my ffing — “Did you sanitize it when you were done?”

“Dabbed it with hand sanitizer, yeah. Oh, also, Shane asked me to ask you if he could borrow it once it was charged again.” Glenn scratched his neck. “I told him it was on really low battery.”

You swallowed.“So he did see you?”

“He and Rick saw me with the earbuds on and I acted surprised to see them.Shane asked if he could borrow it, I told him it needed to be charged, um, hey, I can see it in your face that you’re worried, please don’t be! Shane believed me,” he assured you. “Trust me, he doesn’t know I heard him. I don’t lie, Y/N, you know that.”

“I do,” you admitted, nodding.

“Anyway, I was walking back from the woods and heard Shane and Rick talking. I figured it was about Sophia, but when I overheard something Shane said, I stopped and listened.” Glenn bent his head down and shuffled his feet. “He said that he messed up, like, snapped. Told Rick that he needed to talk to you and be on your side with whatever you told him. Y/N, he said that he,” your friend lowered to a whisper, “hurt you? Like literally ‘hurt’ you, like, did he hit you?”

You smiled to put him at ease, holding up your hands. “He poked me a little and clapped an ear, weren’t hardly no thing.” Y/N, you stupid, stupid, idiot.

It was probably good that he looked so disappointed and cautious, even if it didn’t feel good to see it in his eyes at the time. “Y/N, don’t…joke about this stuff,” he began. “Why would Shane would have gone to Rick in private if it wasn’t serious?”

“’Cause he’s a drama-king.” You made it sound almost like you were patronizing Glenn, the way you said it.

“No. No, this isn’t ‘no thing,’ you literally just confessed he did hit you — does Rick know about that, too? Shane mentioned something about a collarbone, grabbing your shirt, and shoving you, which is also not ‘no thing.’”

As he was speaking, you’d felt more and more defensive and naked and ashamed. You even had to beat down the urge you had to grab his shirt and shove him back, and prove it wasn’t a big deal!

Then, you considered how he’d take it. The look on his face, at a friend doing that to him. How you’d feel about yourself if you did that. How you’d feel if you saw somebody else do that to him or somebody else. A whole lot of rapid thoughts in the several moments where you figured out a way to respond.

The explanation you made was something you’d tried on everyone so far. “We’re siblings. Stuff like that is normal — did you never see your sisters go at it?”

“No, it’s not! And if it is, it shouldn’t be! Dude, if you saw me,” he countered, speaking louder than you’d heard him make since he cried that the bodies of those at the quarry camp weren’t going to be burned with the walkers. “Doing whatever Shane did with you to one of my younger sisters, what would you think of me? How would you react?”

Glenn’s strong emotional response wasn’t expected, so you stood there, dumb. And you knew exactly how you’d react if you saw him doing to his sisters what Shane did.

And yet, you’re still unsure if everyone else is overreacting because it sounded bad or because it actually was.

Either way, Glenn’s question raised your white flag for you. You surrendered, bowing you head in shame and covering your face with your free hand.

“Glenn, there are three other people who know. Four, if you count Shane.” With your injured arm still secured by the upper arm to your torso, you pointed at him. “Dale, Maggie, and Rick know. Which means already there are three others who know. Now, Glenn, don’t go spreadin’ this business any further, hear?”

You didn’t sound half as intimidating as the words may look, mostly you sounded defeated. Ashamed. “Talk to any one of them, talk to me, but do not breathe a word to, to anybody else or around anybody else.”

This is the part where you started to get a little weepy. “And Lori, she don’t need to know about this right now, she don’t need the stress, and not a word around my Carl, oh my gosh, not him.” This is the part where you got a little beg-gy. “Please. It, it ain’t a bad secret because those that need to know, know. Okay?”

The gavel was brought down when he said, “The way you’re scared of the others finding out makes it seem like a bad one.” He was right. Is right.

He then clasped his hands together. “Listen: I wasn’t about to tell anyone else, since Rick knows. Shane told him himself, dude, and I trust Rick. But, if it was a different case,” he went on, and shook his head as if he was telling you that all bets would be off. “Y/N, remember when Ed was around? How that felt? Dude, you literally threw yourself on him when you saw him hurt Carol.”

The comparison of your brother to Ed Peletier stung and wasn’t fair. And did Glenn forget what Shane did to Ed, to? “Glenn, that ain’t equivalent by any stretch.”

“Maybe not,” he accepted. “But just because it could be worse doesn’t make it not bad. Stuff like this starts small.”

“I know,” you whispered.

You raised the white flag higher, half with the plea that this would be over faster if you did. Lord above, you felt so small, stupid, and defenseless. “You’re right,” you ceded, your gaze reaching no higher than Glenn’s belly. “You’re right. And like you said, it’s, it’s b-bein’ handled, Rick’s got it.” Ugh, stress stutter. “And Shane did a much better job than me when he saw what Ed did, don’t leave out that part.”

“He did. That almost worries me more. Just — if anything like this happens again, or if it starts to feel the same, like — ” He raised his hands. “You’re my best friend. That means I’m on your team. Okay? Even if you end up hating me for it.” He then started to leave, give you some space. “We’re on the same search team today, too. Meet by the mailbox by 9:00, it’s in like 40 minutes.”

“Hey, wait,” you called, not wanting to look him in the eye yet but doing it anyway. And you forced the words out because they were true. “Th-thank you.”

He breathed out heavily and made an awkward (but real) smile.“I love you, dude.”

“I love you, too, man. You’re my best friend.”

The uncomfortable, clumsy encounter with Glenn left you feeling more ashamed than you already were. With Daryl, that day where you’d felt as if your very soul had been stripped bare, the vulnerability hadn’t felt shameful afterward. What you’d felt was so close, unbearably close, it was strange.

But yesterday evening and this morning, the vulnerability sucked, dude. And you’d been stuck in a cycle of shame, anger, and feeling stupid, but without those feelings going away once the truth let out.

The good thing was, the target of your anger began to change during the conversation with Glenn. You weren’t thinking stupid, stupid idiot about yourself anymore, no, it became directed at Shane. The one whose blowing up made this mess. Your view of the mess also became clearer. What happened wasn’t just one sibling bullying a little on the other and it getting out-of-hand it was…it wasn’t something to brush aside, you’ll say that. And you’re scared, you’ll say that, too.

But what you were supposed to do with all of it, that still wasn’t clear.

Still isn’t. Because sooner than later, Shane will know about the baby. Sooner rather than later, the situation with Sophia will end. Sooner rather than later, that little power struggle you’re seeing between him and Rick will come to a head.

Nope. You have no idea what to do and all you feel is shame about it.

Speaking of, Daryl’s been feeling ashamed, too, it’s kinda obvious when you look and talk to the guy. He thinks that because he’s bedbound, he’s useless. Might as well pop in before you go on the search this morning, you’ve got like 15 minutes until then.

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Him

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“Last day in this fine establishment, enjoy it while you can,” Y/N joked.

Yeah, so, he wasn’t in a joking mood and didn’t get why Y/N would be, either. An entire week in this ‘establishment’ was damned shameful. All because he stole (worse, Y/N had told him more than once not to do it) borrowed a horse that got spooked. A dumbass slip and fall. Twice.

If Sophia wasn’t found, it was on his hands.

“Did Carol convince you to come to dinner, yet? Or are you still feelin’ too poorly?”

“Just stop.” He wanted to be left alone, was that so fucking complicated?

And he wanted out of this fucking bed, out of this room, out of this house, off this shit farm, and away from this whole gaggle of dumb fucks.

He wanted Merle back. He wanted Uncle Jesse back.

…He just wanted Sophia back. He'd even prayed about it.

“Sorry, little man, not now. Yeah, nah, he needs some privacy and quiet,” Daryl then heard from out in the hallway.

The door was already closed. He didn’t even hear it shut.

“No, his head is still okay, Carl, his cognition is prolly better than the two of us put together. The man’s healin’ well, thanks be to God,” Y/N cheerfully chirped like a songbird. "Wanna visit the baby chicks again?"

More shame slithered on over, hissing at him for how he’d been a dick to Y/N, of all people.

Daryl tried to rub his chest to get rid of the tugging feeling in Y/N’s direction while trying to shut up the voice in his head that was screaming for a goddamn cigarette so he could smoke and dig the lit end into his skin.

-------------------------

You

-------------------------

So, that was a bust. Daryl kinda snapped at you. It sucked. Felt really awful, not gonna lie. First your brother, now the mangy hick.

Come to think of it, it's actually more on brand for Daryl to have done that, given you literally just referred to him as ‘mangy hick.’

Ugh, you wanna cry again. You wanna run back to Dale the way a little kid runs to their dad. Maybe this time you'd also run into a desk to slam your head against on the way?

Later would have to suffice for finding that desk, however, because now, there’s work to do.

“Aight, let’s roll. We’re headin’ south, looking around a small neighborhood. Tomorrow, Shane and Andrea will be hitting what we don’t cover,” T-Dog announces. “Ready to head out, y’all?”

“Head on back to your ma, okay?” you tell Carl, pecking a kiss on his head and patting your finger along the chick he's still carrying. Carl had walked you to the mailbox, it's his third and probably last ‘big trip’ of the day. He’s wearing Shane’s police baseball hat. “See you later, punk, I love you."

“Yeah, man, all set. Bye, Carl.” Glenn stands up from his crouched position by the mailbox where he was waiting.

You adjust the first aid kit in your backpack, then ease it on and snap the chest clip in place. “Ready, Teddy.”

T-Dog rubs his hands together. “Then let’s roll. See if we can’t bring Sophia back for this big dinner her mama’s got planned tonight.”

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[fushipurro]

In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 5 - Imperfections

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, mentions of alcohol, hangover, domestic fluff, light angst, insecure/intrusive thoughts

☆ Word Count: 7.3k

You’ll have to thank Toji later for whatever he put in your drink if you can even remember this when the time comes.

After your return to the group, the next while was spent being centerstage with the trio ─ now dubbed the quartet or “Gang” with your addition to their circle of friends.

They had wanted to hear every little moment from the day you met Toji up to now, preaching about how you should make a move already. Of course, they sulk when you remind them that you aren’t aware of his relationship status, but then they go and beg you to ask already and see where you stand.

At some point they started having their own back and forth discussions trying to come up with plans on how to help you out. Satoru thinks a direct approach might be best, rip the bandage off as he put it to which Shoko argues to be more indirect to save you from any potential hurt feelings. Suguru, being the voice of reason, believes that whatever the case ─ it’s Toji’s life to tell and you should wait until he’s ready.

The more they carry on, the more you find yourself lost on your drink, eventually giving the margarita another shot when your first glass emptied. Suddenly, the taste is nothing like you remember. In fact, you don’t taste much of anything given how numb your mouth has gotten thanks to nature of alcohol at play.

Your eyes stare upwards in a daze after polishing that second drink off. The neon shades of purple and red that streak across the ceiling mesh together in a lovely, yet blurring way that you’ve come to refer to as an “aurora borealis”. Who knew indoor stargazing could make for a wonderful experience?

“Helloooo…?” a voice calls out that you’re barely able to register amongst the noise occupying your ears. “You still with us?” the voice speaks once more.

“Satoru, I think you let her drink too much,” another comments.

“Don’t blame me! She’s only had two drinks…”

“You should get me two more,” pleads a third.

The second interrupts the bantering of the other two, “I think we’ve all had enough for one night ─ you especially, Shoko, since you have work tomorrow.”

A hand falls to your shoulder, nudging you back to reality. Satoru and Suguru exit the booth, helping you up to your feet alongside Shoko who’s somehow steady in heels despite having drunk more than everyone combined.

“Sho,” you drawl out in the form of a murmur, clinging to her side for stability.

“I know, hun, we’ll get you home soon,” she assures, spinning her head back to the men. “I’ll take her from here.” She winks. “You two just wait for me outside.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The two nod with a knowing glance to each other, turning on their heel to make their leave after wishing you a good night.

“Where we goin’?” You hiccup, proving once again the state you’re in.

Shoko doesn’t have much of any time to answer before your eyes make contact with a pair of green, inciting joy from within you.

“Toji Toji!” you babble excitedly, lips stretching far and wide in a smile.

Needless to say, it takes the man by surprise as evident with his raised eyebrows and slightly parted lips. He places the glassware he was cleaning down in its respective spot. “All done for the night?” he asks, placing his palms down on the countertop.

“Yesshir!” you mock salute.

Immediately, he laughs through his nose. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re drunk, but he’s surprised at how little alcohol it took to get you like this. Not only that, but this new, unreserved side of you.

Toji’s used to your reclusive, stuttering nature, the mask you wear like a shield in public. He knows this partly because of what he hears through the walls that separate your homes at times, things he won’t ever call out to embarrass you.

But right here, right now?

You’re that same bubbling ball of joy, but more so now that the alcohol has seemed to turn your thinking off.

This is how you should be ─ alcohol aside.

“She made a mention about you giving her a ride home…?” Shoko comments, taking in the man at the center of your attraction with her own thorough eyes.

Toji’s head turns towards a younger man further down the bar. “Choso!” he calls out, already slipping his small apron off from his waist. “Taking my break, I’ll be back soon.” He steps out from behind the bar, offering with his hands to take the woman’s place in keeping you upright.

“Take care of her now, you hear?” She winks, stretching up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “I hear you’re quite the gentlemen with her, keep it up.”

He snorts, watching her make her leave for a second before his eyes are back on you while you’re staring off at the ceiling with wonder. One hand settles comfortably at your waist while the other rests over yours that clings to his side.

With deft hands, he guides you towards the back entrance of the club, grabbing his coat along the way. “Come along then princess, your chariot awaits.” The words come out low, like a rumble or a purr.

You smile up at him having caught his words. “If I’m the princess, then that makes you my knight in shining armor,” you giggle, holding onto him more tightly now.

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffs, “I’d like to hear you say that when you’re not drunk off your ass.”

“Hey, I only had two drinks!” you refute.

“I know.” He smirks. “I made them after all. But you, my dear, are a lightweight.”

His hand leaves yours for a moment to push the heavy door open to the outside world. The chilling winds send a shiver throughout your body, but the heat that radiates from Toji lulls you closer than ever.

He gets you to his car, carefully placed down in the passenger seat. Toji sees you recoil from the cold of the seats, choosing to drape his jacket over your legs, fastening the seatbelts before coming around to the driver’s side.

He shakes his head with a smile as he settles down, turning the car on with the press of a button. There’s a fleeting thought in his head to forgo the seat warmers when he’s met with how you’re enjoying his coat. You’re snuggling it up to your body, even going so far as to ─ shamelessly ─ inhale the fabric.

If you weren’t wasted, he wouldn’t catch you dead doing this in front of him. He won’t tease you over it, not now at the very least. Toji is more than happy to let you be your complete self, so long as he’s able to see more of this side of you that you so desperately lock away.

The drive home is quiet as he opts to not play anything on the radio as usual, letting only the sounds of his engine fill the silence. His eyes wander to you at times, while your own aimlessly stare up at the passing streetlights as though they were the stars themselves.

“You have fun tonight?” he asks abruptly, causing you to flinch from the sudden noise. It’s proving difficult for you to remain awake.

“Yeah, I did!” You grin with excitement, lighting up the car like you’re the sun itself.

“Hope you know your head’s gonna feel like shit come tomorrow,” he teases.

“I haven’t had fun like or with friends in a looong time.” The words come out with a darker undertone than you meant, but you’re also not in the headspace to be mindful about it.

Either way, they end up brewing in Toji’s head far longer than they did in yours. A question looms on the tip of his tongue, when do you hang out with others?

As far he’s aware living right next-door, you never have guests over and if he’s heard you on the phone it was always obvious they were work calls and never anything more. About the only reason you appear to leave your house is for said work or getting groceries.

Who do you spend time with socially? Do you even have other friends?

He hates himself for prying, it’s not something he’s proud to do, but there’s a curiosity he wishes to satisfy. “Has work been keeping you too busy for your other friends?”

At first you reply with a noncommittal hum, letting the gears move around in your head. When you do finally speak, it’s with your head turned back to the window instead of his way, “I don’t…have anyone besides…” Your hand comes out in front of you to keep count with your fingers. “…You, ‘Gumi, my new friends ─ I guess Nanamin counts even though he’s my boss.”

Internally, he sighs with relief that you think of him as a friend and not just your neighbor. It also looks to him that you’re not seeing anyone romantically at the moment which is another less thing to worry about for his own conflicted reasonings.

He slows the car to a stop for a red light at an intersection, mulling over this newfound information in his head to the clicking of his turn signal. Should he continue his questioning? Is the traffic light a sign he should give it a rest?

Toji has never been one to believe in signs or omens, but with some of the unexpected events of today, he starts to wonder if this is a warning he needs to be aware of.

Ultimately, he shrugs it off. It’s a stop light for heaven’s sake. Whether you remember any of this in the morning would be a miracle anyways, not that he’s out here asking for top secret information like your social security number.

The light flashes green and he decides to pop his next question, “Are you lonely?”

“Sometimes,” you tell him after a short pause. He sees your head fall to your lap, toying with the drawstrings of his jacket between your fingers. “I’m just used to it, I guess. I like my solitude.” Little do you know; he understands that all too well and more.

For a long time, he was the same.

Growing up with little to no attention in the ways that matter. Coming to believe isolation was the answer for self-preservation ─ to protect his heart. There are times he still feels that way today, but there’s one blessing in his life he never would have gotten if it weren’t for giving himself a chance and taking that leap of faith he did, years ago.

Loneliness breeds a darkness he once welcomed as a friend. He knows now it was anything but ─ just malevolent thoughts whispering a means to an end and nothing more.

If that’s as much the case for you as it was for him, then maybe it’s his turn to become a source of light.

He’s quiet the rest of the way home, watching when he can of how you purposefully fog the glass, drawing a rough depiction of a cat with your finger. In your head, it’s almost that of a masterpiece, but it’s missing something.

A quick swipe of your nail over the edge of its lips is all the cat needed to be perfect in your eyes. It’s ironic given that scars are viewed as imperfections. A “blemish” that can make or break something, or someone.

But not yourself.

Pretty soon the familiar brick building you both call home appears, and he pulls the car into his spot. You’ve sobered up some from the drive, now fighting off a losing battle with the sleep your body craves as Toji tries to get you from your seat onto two legs.

The stairs leading up to the fourth floor are a daunting task, but not with someone capable who’s also built like a Greek god by your side. The hardest task proves to be finding your keys from your purse, eventually letting Toji do the honors of unlocking the door after several fumbled attempts of your own. Once open, Tsumiki is right there meowing away.

“Tsumi!” you croon, almost falling to floor as you try and kneel to her level. Luckily, Toji’s quick reflexes save you from harm, pulling you back up into his side.

“Time for bed, princess,” he declares, moving you down the hall. He’s thankful you aren’t protesting, simply allowing him to lay you down on your cloud. It was a smart move on your part to wear a lazy, casual fit. No need to stress over trying to sleep in restricting fabric like denim or tight dresses.

Toji may not be a perfect person, with a laundry list of things he regrets doing in his life, but nowhere in his morally gray mind would he take to stripping you out of your everyday clothes unless absolutely necessary at this stage of your relationship.

“Hey ‘Oji?” you mumble out the words amidst a yawn.

He huffs with amusement, enjoying the dreamy expression you make, reminding him of how Megumi acts when it’s his bedtime. Cute.

“Yeah?” he replies.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Your eyes are already shut before he can say anything more, but that doesn’t stop him. “Anytime, princess.” He raises the sheets up and over your form, murmuring, “Sleep tight.”

Toji remains at your bedside for some time, returning the favor with his own shameless attempt at watching you sleep, blissfully unaware. The way your chest slowly rises and falls with every breath and the soft snores that accompany; it calms him. With him, you look so at peace and free of any anxieties that plague you.

He wishes he could see you like this more.

The afternoon light creeps into your room, stirring your body awake like some twisted version of a morning glory. One of the perks of having a western facing window in your bedroom for night owl like yourself to sleep the day away.

As promised, you have the next few days off to rest and recover after the grueling weeks of preparation for the shoot. And while your phone may not be sounding off a cruel symphony of noise to wake you, that doesn’t mean you’re safe. No, not when you have a separate alarm that walks on four paws and meows, prodding at you to feed her.

Although… Tsumiki is being unusually calm as far as “mornings” go for you.

Instead of crushing your stomach and ribs, she’s choosing to stretch out her little limbs on your body, suckling away on the blanket draped over you.

You lean up, reaching out your own lazy hand to pet her. “Tsumiaah-fuck,” you groan out in pain at the sudden stabbing sensation piercing through your skull. The pressure is enough to send your head right back into the pillow, which you do, but not without a sour expression.

While blindly navigating your hand to your nightstand, you find that your phone isn’t in its designated spot. With a straining effort, you pry your eyes open to reveal that in place of your phone is a piece of a paper held down by a bottle of pills and a glass of water.

“Drink up if you want to feel better sooner, princess.-Your ‘Knight in Shining Armor’”

“…My what?”

Back to the pillows you go, taking a spare to throw over your face to save you from the embarrassment. The soft golden hues of the light are normally welcomed with joy, but now have you rethinking about investing in some heavy blackout curtains.

A heavy sigh escapes you with a rumbling groan after, “What the fuck did I do last night…”

You try and think back to the events of the night before, only to come up short ─ thanks to the wincing pain your head is putting you through. Vaguely, you remember the fun you had with the group of three, followed by Toji taking you home, but everything else comes up with a gaussian blur filtering overtop.

So, you decide right here and now to make a binding vow with yourself to save you from this happening again.

Never get drunk again. Better yet, avoid any alcohol lest you set yourself up for trouble.

Swallowing the pills is the first thing you do when finally decide to sit up, following up with a drink of water. You’re not in the position to care about the overnight quality, just that anything is welcome when your throat is as dry as the Sahara desert.

Next on your plans is a trip to the bathroom, opting to get into the shower right away. You stop short of the mirror however, noticing yet another enigma. “No makeup? Huh…” The artist had your face pretty caked up and yet, there’s zero evidence of it now. You’re not even sure you do this good of a job while you’re awake let alone how you managed this when you were borderline blackout drunk.

Tsumiki is hardly in a rush to get her breakfast either, more fascinated by the birds outside than she is to paw at your ankles to hurry up already. This inevitably gives you a harsh reminder that while her cabinets remain full and plentiful with food, yours are greatly overdue for some shopping.

All that work and no play has left you opting for takeout deliveries over putting any actual effort into your meals and now your fridge is sufferingly empty. May as well get it over with now on your day off.

You get changed into one of your comfy outfits for the fall weather. Another day of not going too crazy with your looks, still feeling plenty bit tired, but nothing a nap later won’t fix.

Hanging up by your front door is your purse you had used yesterday, which you find has your phone buried inside still. It could use a good charge, but there’s enough for you at least scan over all the missed messages, mainly from Shoko wanting to make sure you got home safely and how you’re feeling.

After some quick apologies for the delayed responses, you shove it back into the same purse to take your leave, but not without grabbing a granola bar so you’d have something on your stomach with the pills.

Once outside, you’re hit with the pungent smell of smoke that can only mean one thing ��� fate has again chosen to weave you in with scarlet-colored webs.

With the sound of the heavy doors closing behind you, the man looks over his shoulder. The scarred corner of his lip moves upward, while exhaling a gray plume of smoke. “Morning princess, how’re you feelin’?” he asks before taking another drawn out hit from his cigarette.

Your cheeks begin to fill with heat, even going so far as to make you forget the hangover you’re suffering from. “That was your note then?” you muse, despite the faint memory that yes, he did take you home so it should be obvious.

Toji chuckles, “Ouch.” He feigns feeling hurt with a hand over his heart. “You don’t remember? Don’t worry, I figured you wouldn’t,” he teases, but there’s almost a solemn feeling lacing his words.

You move down a few steps to his side, your nose crinkling at the toxic air flowing around. Toji, being the chivalrous man he is to you, is already snuffing out the flame on the concrete away from you.

“Thanks for taking me home, I hope I didn’t give you a hard time,” you say, while carefully avoiding his gaze to save you from further embarrassment.

It’s a futile effort, as his words do exactly that, “Not at all, it was a treat.” He winks despite your aversion to his eyes. Your head falls into your knees and there’s a moment you consider turning tail right then and there to flee, but thankfully his next words aren’t meant to tease. “Where are you off to? You want a ride?”

You debate the idea in your head. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you, I’m just heading out to the store,” you answer lightly.

“It’s no trouble, doll. I gotta go out anyways to pick up the kid from school,” he tells you.

It would be nice to not have to walk, especially when the weather of today offers enough wind to make your outfit choice feel obsolete. “Are you sure?” The last thing you want is to be a burden.

“Positive,”he assures with an air of confidence, standing to his full height now, with one hand dangling his keys in the space between you both. “Now come on before I leave you out here,” he urges nonchalantly.

You know he’s not serious, but you don’t risk it either way. He shakes his head, making a sign of amusement as you speed walk up to his side. When you open the passenger door, there’s a spark that hits your memory from the jacket that rests on the seat. As if it’s the most natural thing to do, you hike the fabric up to your chest as you settle down inside, averting your face to the window when Toji catches you in the act.

The car turns on without a comment regarding it from the man, pulling out from the lot no sooner after. To make the silence worse, your stomach decides that this is the perfect time to put on a show, declaring your lack of a proper meal. Just like that, you suck your lip in, pulling your hand up to hide your face.

You hope he didn’t hear it, but luck only goes so far. “I take it you haven’t eaten yet?” he inquires, because of course he would hear it. The car is dead silent save for the roar of the engine but even that wasn’t enough to cover it up.

Defeatedly, you sigh, “Just a granola bar.” You shrug, dropping the hand from your face. “Work’s been so busy, that’s why I’m out shopping now.”

You have half a mind to say something along the lines of “And no, I’m not letting you pay for my groceries again,” the second you hear him humming in thought.

What actually comes out of his mouth is a different idea. “You want to join us for dinner?” he offers. “Kid’s been begging for pancakes, so I said I’d take him to a diner tonight.” The words produce a tantalizing thought, falsely filling your senses with the aroma of syrup and creams, and every other breakfast delight.

“I’d love that actually, but on one condition.”

“Uh oh,” he starts, but can’t fight the smirk tugging at his lips. “Name your price,” he demands, and that you do.

“I’ll be the one paying this time,” you state confidently. “As thanks for getting me home last night.”

Toji laugh is deep and hearty. “You can pay for Megs and me if you really want to,” he stresses those words, showing his subtle discontent. “But I’ll be buying yours and I don’t want to hear any complaints. I invited you; I’ll be treating you.”

You take the win, knowing there will be more opportunities in the future considering all that he’s done for you. “Deal,” you reply affirmingly.

“Good girl,” he mutters out, not even giving you a chance to react when for the first time in your history of being in his car, the radio comes on. But hey, now you get to hear what his taste in music is. If the station is anything to go by, then the answer to the question you’ve been dying to know is that he’s into rock. “Divorced dad rock” as the internet so kindly puts it for early 2000s classics.

Between that thought and the praise kink you’re starting to feel you have, your eyes now meander their way to the left hand that sits idle on the shifter.

Although the vehicle is automatic, with the exception of the sport mode, he keeps a loose grip over the leather with the occasional tapping of his pointer. His ring finger happens to be devoid of the characteristic ring that proclaims his availability to the world.

If he is divorced, that would explain the missing ring on top of his reason to move in recent times and with a kid no less, but that doesn’t mean he’s not seeing anyone either. For all you know, he could be of the mindset that marriage of just a slip of paper, one he might not feel he ever needs if his love is enough.

Rings aside, your eyes continue their journey across his hands. They’re great in size, even carrying evidence of faded scars beneath the rough textures. Another key feature are the cobweb of veins that run along the backside, flexing with every action. You can’t help but wonder how they’d look arou–

“Something wrong, doll? I can feel you staring.”

Oops, busted.

“Oh, no, sorry.” Your laugh comes out dry, a forced effort on your part that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Just looking around is all,” you double down. He responds with a laugh of his own through his nose, and if you were looking at him, you’d notice the wolfish grin.

Considering your apartment was already closer to the outskirts of the city than the downtown area, it doesn’t take all that long to arrive at the foothills of a school close to the nearby mountains labeled Tokyo Tech. A private school by the looks of it. Everything just screams historical with little effort to modernize any structure on the property, but it’s quite charming.

Toji tells you along the way up to the main hall that the school handles kids of all ages, making it the ideal location for Megumi to grow up in an environment geared towards him and provides consistency in his life. One thing you eventually will come to learn is important to this family. The few students you pass by all have their own uniforms too, most of which almost seems tailored to each individual student.

You can’t even begin to imagine the tuition price, but it makes you respect Toji more. Yeah, he’s got a sports car and his kid’s in private school, but then you think about the likelihood of him being a single father who chose to live in the same dingy apartment as you. In a way, it shows that he has his priorities straight, mainly when it comes to giving Megumi a good life.

You’re afraid to get lost in such a piece of land so you stay as close to Toji as you can. The free hand of his that rocks back and forth with each step is more than enticing to grab, but you refrain. Seeing is enough, you tell yourself, for now at least.

He stops short of one of the classrooms, sliding the door open to reveal exactly what you’d expect from a kindergarten. Megumi, who’s sitting near the back lights up upon seeing not only his father, but you as well. He can’t contain himself from trotting over and wrapping himself around your leg.

“Hey ‘Gumi,” you croon, kneeling to his level. You’re unable to resist the urge when you see his hair, reaching out like the pull of a magnet to rough it up.

He reaches up with both arms to grab your hand, urging you to follow him. All the while, Toji stands there shocked. “What, no love for your dad?” He pouts but shrugs it off to follow after while groaning, “I’m standin’ right here too.”

You flash Toji a look conveying sympathy but truthfully, he’s unbothered. His feigned scowl has dissipated and replaced by usual calm demeanor, albeit with the hint of a smile.

Megumi takes you to his desk where he’s been hard at work coloring. He pans through the stack of papers with underlying excitement, showing you them all. Some had various animals on them while others feature kaijus in the movies you watched together. Your favorite in the pile however, has to be the one showcasing Megumi and his father together. Their expressions are portrayed nearly identical to each other; Toji’s being spot on.

“You made all these yourself? They’re amazing!” you exclaim, proudness dripping from your words.

Toji comes up behind you, leaning over to see what’s got you so excited. He can’t help but smile either, patting his son on the head. “Kid’s a damn good artist, ain’t he?”

His smile only gets wider, and more annoying when you reprimand him. A light backhand to his thigh that takes him by surprise. “Don’t curse around all these kids!” you scold.

“Yo Megumi! Is that your mom?” A new voice yells out, which you follow back to a boy with pink-colored hair. He comes running up to you alongside a chestnut-haired girl of the same age.

Megumi has a questionable look on his face and remains quiet while you choose to answer in place. “Hi there,” you begin, introducing yourself by name to the two, “I’m actually his neighbor,” you tell them after.

A look of realization comes over the two from your words, and they glance at each other in shock. “Ohh, you’re the rabbit girl!” He bellows happily, and internally you wince. Is that how you’re being introduced? “My name’s Yuji.”

“Woah, you were right, Megumi. She is pretty,” the girl comments and the two begin to look at you with stars in their eyes.

“You must be…Nobara, right?” you question, hoping your memory serves correctly from when Toji had mentioned the names of Megumi’s friends.

“Yup, that’s me!” she answers, pointing her thumb at herself.

You beam at the two, matching their enthusiasm. “It’s good to meet some of Megumi’s friends.”

Yuji and Nobara then proceed to chat your ear off, and all the while you can see how they became friends with Megumi. As quiet or introverted as he can be, these two extroverts have essentially “adopted” him into their now-triangle. You’re starting to relate to that same feeling now with Satoru and the gang, and you couldn’t be happier.

All the while, Toji has been putting his focus on gathering all his son’s belongings into his backpack, flinging it over his shoulder effortlessly upon completion. “Ready to go, Megs?” he interrupts, receiving a nod in response.

“Bye, Megumi!” The two kids wave goodbye to you and Megumi, the latter taking your hand to leave, waving back to his friends. Both you and Toji match the boy’s pace on the way to the car, where just like the last time you were together, you help him up into his car seat. Once everyone is good, Toji starts the car and takes off to the nearest diner.

Megumi can hardly contain his joy upon realization that you’re joining him and his father for dinner. So much so that he pulls you to sit at his side in the booth while Toji sits across from you both. He had brought in one of his artworks from school and is continuing his work using the crayons given to him by the waiter.

Like father, like son ─ they both request milk with their meals. The similarity ends there however, as Megumi orders the stack of pancakes he’s been craving while Toji orders a selection of meats, eggs, and toast. You order some pancakes to match with Megumi, with some fruit on the side, and your drink of choice.

You converse with him for a short bit as Megumi is busy coloring away, only slowing down in topics when the food arrives. Toji can’t bring himself to look away from the sight of you helping his son pour the syrup, wiping off any messes he makes on himself like a mother would. It was then that you notice his stillness, not even having taken a first bite yet of his meal.

“Everything okay, Toji?” you gingerly approach the subject.

There’s a moment of silence before he seems to snap from his reverie, uttering a simple, “Yeah.” He no sooner grabs his utensils and begins to eat. “Just happy is all,” he adds, a soft smile gracing his face up until he stuffs it with one big bite.

You can’t help but feel amused. “You really like meat, don’t you?” you muse, remembering how he was with the stir-fry dinner.

“I don’t go a meal without it,” he tells you, sneaking a forkful of your pancakes from under you. You feign a gasp, taking your own prize from his plate. You’re paying for it after all, just like he’s doing for yours. “I’m sure your cat can agree. She wouldn’t stop purring over my choice of beef and chicken over that turkey vegetable crap you got.” His tone is playfully mocking.

Realization hits you. “Wait, you fed Tsumiki last night for me?” It’s no wonder why she was so calm earlier, letting you sleep in and all. You don’t give him the chance to reply before thanking him, “I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. It was easy enough.” He shrugs, taking a few sips from his drink. “She led me right to her stuff after I put you to bed. Gave me quite an earful with that mouth of hers,” he snorts.

The sound of a fork hitting ceramic startles you both, and you turn to Megumi who appears on the verge of tears. “You played without me?” he asks between sniffles.

Toji’s answer comes quick, “Sorry Megs, you weren’t awake.” But it doesn’t make him feel any better.

You’re quick to wrap your arm around him, rubbing smooth shapes onto his arm while he clings to you. “No fair,” he murmurs into the fabric of your shirt.

“Hey, hey, you got me here now, don’t you?” you coo to him. “I’m sure we can find some time soon to do something, maybe without your dad as payback,” you tease, side-eying the man also fixing to pout.

Megumi nods into you, eventually letting you go to resume his meal and whatever he’s still coloring. Crisis averted, you both think to yourselves. A lot of the previous night still remains a blur in your head, and you can’t help the budding curiosity from blooming. “So… what was the whole ‘knight in shining armor’ thing about, anyways?”

He snorts again, making you feel antsy as he takes his sweet time chewing his food. “Believe it or not, that was your idea.”

“Seriously?”

“I called you princess and that’s what you came up with for me in return.” You feel red in your face, lowering your head out of the sheer embarrassment drunk you caused. Toji on the other hand thinks it’s funny.

“Please tell me I didn’t do anything else that was weird…” You don’t know how you’d be able to survive if you did.

“Who knows?” That annoying grin returns to him and now your only thought is crawling under a rock. “I thought it was cute though,” he suddenly remarks, causing you to lift your eyes to meet his that then wink. “You’re one of the better drunks I’ve dealt with.”

Kill me now.

Silence envelopes the booth, the only noise you hear being that of your utensils and other patrons. Toji may be comfortable with the quiet, but you feel it to be awkward, proven when you catch Megumi’s eyes wandering upwards between you and his father.

“Were those friends you were with models as well?” Toji eventually asks.

“No.” You shake your head. “Just the one, Satoru,” you say, taking a bite of some fruit.

He scoffs, “The unicorn?” You confirm with a nod this time.

“The other guy, Suguru, is a tattoo artist, and then Shoko’s working to become a medical examiner.” There’s a hum that follows to acknowledge your words, followed by another bite of his meal.

“What got you into modeling?” he inquires. His eyebrows knit together curiously.

You don’t answer right away, and it takes all of what feels like an eternity to formulate your thoughts. There are many different ways you could answer, half of which ultimately might make it look as if you want pity.

You don’t.

Your fingers trail through Megumi’s hair, toying with the raven locks as form of stress relief. A simple gesture, one that helps to keep your emotions grounded.

“I used to have this one friend that went to modeling classes after school,” you begin with your eyes still focused on the boy. It’s never the easiest to talk about yourself, even if there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Scars from the past that have never truly healed.

“She invited me along a few times, saying how it’d be good for me, and all the good things it did for her,” you emphasize, sighing softly. “After a while, I was able to give it a try and that’s where I had met my agent who recruited me the day I graduated.”

Toji’s reply is calm, “That must’ve been nice, it’s not often you’re guaranteed a job straight out of school.”

“Yeah.” You smile. “Mr. Nanami’s been great to me and I’m thankful for all his help.”

You give Megumi one final ruffle of his hair before your hand leaves his head to take a bite from your meal. There’s a tremble that’s nearly noticeable if you look hard enough, and the skin around your hands feels colder, clammy even.

“The shoot you had yesterday.” He pauses, taking off a chunk of meat between his teeth, leaving you in suspense yet again. “I’d like to see them when they come out. Bet they’re real pretty,” he muses.

If making someone flustered is a love language, then that’s most certainly his.

But then you feel that cold sweat sticking to your skin once again. Why?

He hasn’t openly judged you for anything, but would that change if he knew more of you? The you, hidden away behind a dozen doors, the parts of your life you’ve never told another soul about.

Or what about the previous modeling you’ve done? The magic performed by editors and makeup artists to erase every blemish, morph your body into something unrecognizable by your own eyes.

It’s only now you’re beginning to realize how highly you value his opinion. The closeness you’re achieving with him, and all the feelings mixed in that you never thought you’d have a chance to even feel in your life.

You want him to like you.

You don’t want him to leave like others have done.

But then there’s the intrusive side of your head that tells you how easy it is to call someone pretty, and even easier to lie about it. It makes you wonder if that’s the type of person he is, and then you hate yourself for even thinking like that when there’s been nothing to warrant it.

Maybe it’d be easier to rip the bandage off and find out. Show him the intimate parts of your life now so you don’t get your hopes up if he wants to step away from your life.

And so, you make your decision. “The ones from yesterday have to wait until the magazine is published, but I do have some others posted on Instagram you can see.”

“Insta-what?” he questions, the word foreign to his knowledge. It’s such a leftfield response that it almost eradicates the darker thoughts from your head.

“You’re kidding, right?” You meet his eyes for the first time in several minutes, and you notice that he’s calm yet looking to you with a confused expression. “Instagram? The social media platform?”

Clarity hits the moment he pulls a retro flip phone from his pocket, waving it in front of you. The sight alone makes your jaw fall agape. This man has a sports car, his son in a private school, and then both his apartment and phone are practically relics.

You pull your own phone out, navigating to the app in question. “I have to use this a lot for my work. For me, it makes a great digital portfolio, but mostly people post whatever.”

You pass him your phone, feeling even more nervous now that there’s no going back. In his hands are hundreds of photos you’ve taken of yourself over time, ranging from past modeling shoots to wardrobe advertisements, a few here and there of Tsumiki, and even some of yourself that you posted for you alone.

He spends some time scrolling through, pausing here and there on some that catch his eye. “Shit ─ sweetheart, these are incredible,” he praises.

“Yeah, after plenty of editing,” you scoff, muttering those words under your breath. You regret that you vocalized those thoughts and hope he didn’t hear. But alas, he always does.

“I’m serious,” he says with a stern voice. There’s a brief silence where your eyes have fallen to your plate that’s interrupted by your phone appearing in front of your face. You take it, looking back up at Toji where his pointer finger is directed at you. “That’s all you there.” He gestures to your phone. “And you look great doing it.”

You look down at your screen, and of all the photos on your page it could be, it’s one of the ones you fought with yourself to delete at one point.

It’s you, standing in your living room wearing a phthalo green dress in a style you don’t normally wear. It was golden hour at time, with sunlight kissing your features and your makeup styled in way that’s much more you. There was that feeling like the one you had yesterday at the time of this photo, the one where you felt like a stranger in your own skin. You loved the dress, the shoes, the jewelry you had on, but thought it would look better on anyone other than you.

In the end, you somehow brought yourself to upload it, even convincing yourself to not take it down afterwards. Little do you know, this photo is Toji’s favorite.

“I’m done!” Megumi suddenly proclaims, shifting the atmosphere. He picks up the artwork he’s been diligently working on, showing it off for you and his father to see.

“’Gumi,” you croon. His latest masterpiece is a continued version of the self-portrait of him and Toji that you saw earlier in the classroom. Only this time, there’s another figure now standing next to Megumi.

You.

You’re there holding his hand with a smile on your face, one that mirrors the lifelike version you hold now. “This is very sweet of you, ‘Gumi.” Your arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug.

“Can’t say I’ve seen the kid this smitten before,” Toji chuckles.

“What does that mean?” Megumi asks with a puzzled expression.

“Means you really like someone,” Toji responds with a snort. “Now finish eating those pancakes you begged for before they’re cold and soggy.” Megumi shoots him a look that Toji shrugs off with sly grin.

“You’re good with kids, you know,” Toji later remarks as he’s signing the receipt for the bill.

You pause after getting Megumi zipped up into his jacket. “I think Megumi’s just a good kid in general,” you say with a boop to the child’s nose.

“He is, but I’m glad he’s able to relax around someone other than me or his babysitter.”

His words bring a few thoughts into your head that you wish to question, but you remember Suguru’s words and decide to leave it. As you’re leaving the diner together, you end up realizing one other thing.

Toji paid for everything tonight.

Again.

He didn’t so much as even let you handle tipping the waiter, foiling your plan to return one of many favors.

This kind-hearted bastard.

☆ Notes: saying it now but i've never been drunk before cause i cannot stand alcohol so i'm sorry for any inaccuracies!

tbh I had already settled on making yaga a modeling manager before I even thought about having a school moment come this chapter, so I didn’t want to go back on that but oof is it hard. This chapter specifically also had me rethinking the ages I’ve gave the kids so I had to make adjustments there for it to make sense overall in the reupload

Not only that but also remembering that with megumi’s age, this would be set in the mid 2000s but let’s pretend it’s not because I don’t really care tbh LOL. It’s just for the sake of technology and me not wanting to think too deeply about it.

[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 9)

Summary: Your ex calls and throws off your evening. You and Timothée make love for the first time (again), and you finally say the three little words he's been dying to hear.

C/W: Conversation with toxic ex; NSFW (oral and consensual/protected p-in-v sex, denied orgasm)

Catch up on previous chapters here.

You walked into the town's elementary school and were immediately hit by a wave of nostalgia. It was the same one you attended, after all, though the hallways seemed much smaller (or normal, really) as an adult. Madison walked alongside you to the office to register for the upcoming school year.

"Oh, that was my classroom for 3rd grade. Ms. Hobbs was my favorite teacher. She had a knack for making stories come alive. She would decorate the classroom based on what we were reading at the time. Oh, we had SO much fun when we read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! I found the golden ticket and got to pick a prize out of the treasure bin."

Madison barely acknowledged your story with a "uh-huh" as she looked around, nervously biting her lip.

"I figured that would get more of a reaction out of you given your current obsession with Wonka," you said as you playfully nudged her arm with your elbow.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Mom. I'm just thinking about my old school. And my friends."

You stopped walking and gave her a hug. "I know how hard it was for me to move across the country and start at a new school, and I was an adult. Well, a teenaged adult, but still. I can only imagine how you are feeling at the moment. If you want to talk about it, I'm all ears. And I'm sure Nana, Pawpaw, and even Timothée would say the same." You squeezed her to you once more. "You're a likeable girl, Madison. You'll make new friends here. And at least you know Emerie already." She just nodded, so you kept your nostalgia as you continued to the office to finish paperwork.

Evening arrived and Timothée came to pick you up for a date. It was a fantastic feeling to have your relationship out in the open now. Your mom was even supportive despite her earlier comments about sparing his feelings. Madison was sitting outside on the porch swing reading a book when he came up the steps.

"Hey, kiddo!" you heard him say cheerily through the front door. You had heard him drive up and got up to let him in, but once you saw the two talking you wanted to give them some space.

"Hey." Madison put her book down.

"I heard you got to see your new school today. What'd you think?"

"It's...small."

Timothée laughed and sat beside her. "I'm sure it's very small compared to what you are used to."

"At least I won't have a lot of new names to memorize," she side-eyed him and smirked.

"That's one way to look at it!" He bumped her arm with his. "Alright, I'm going to go say hi to your grandparents and mom."

Timothée lightly rapped on the door as he let himself in. You slightly startled him with your presence right by the door, but he quickly regained his senses and greeted you with a kiss. As he stepped around to say hello to your parents, your phone rang. It was your ex, Michael.

"Hello?" you answered in a questioning tone.

"I'm calling to talk to Madison."

"Oh, uhh, I'm about to go out, but I can give her the phone for a few minutes while I finish getting ready."

"Go out? Like on a date?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." You made frustrated eye contact with Timothée and mouthed "Michael" as you walked to your bedroom. He followed and leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed.

"It IS my business to know who is spending time with my child," he groused.

You felt your ears heat up and your lip curl. "Like you gave me the same courtesy when you started seeing Katie," you spat. "Besides, you hardly reach out to make contact with YOUR child. You can't just call on a whim and demand to talk to her after weeks of radio silence."

"Just let me talk to her."

You muted the phone and grabbed a pillow from your bed to scream into. Despite how much you just wanted to hang up on Michael, you never wanted Madison to say that you kept her away from him. You squeezed past Timothée and walked to the front porch.

"Maddy, your dad is on the phone." She looked up at you in confusion that was quickly replaced with excitement. She grabbed for the phone.

"Daddy?" You couldn't hear what he was saying on the other end, but you heard her start listing off some of the fun things she had done since moving out here. You went back inside but only closed the screen door so you could easily hear if you needed to intervene.

Timothée was sitting on the couch. "What did he want?" he asked attitudinally.

"He just randomly wanted to talk to Madison, I guess."

"Where does he come off questioning you about you personal life?" You just shrugged, unsure of where Michael's behavior was stemming from. A few minutes later, Madison came in and handed you the phone.

"Here, he wants to talk to you again."

You took the phone back and held it to your ear. "Hello?"

"Who is Timothy? Isn't he the guy who dumped you in high school? Is the dating pool in that tiny ass town so small out that you have to resort to your own leftovers?" You didn't validate his insane line of questioning with a response. "Whatever. Why is Madison around him so much? He is basically all she talked about. What kind of influence is that blue-collar, good for noth-"

"Don't you DARE talk about him like that." Your voice was dripping with venom. You jumped up from the couch and stormed out onto the porch. Your mother, upon hearing your tone, took Madison into the kitchen to keep her occupied.

"I do not owe you an explanation for how I choose to fix what you broke," you continued. "EVERYTHING I do, I think about Madison first. Can you say the same? I ran into Timothée a couple of weeks after we got back into town, and yes we reconnected. But you know what. She probably likes him because he has spent more quality time with her in the past two months than you have in the past two YEARS. HE shows an interest in her. HE checks in on her. HE puts her first in our relationship. HE treats her like a human being, and not just to get to me. Because HE is a decent human being. Next time you want to talk to Madison, coordinate a date and time first. I am no longer available to cater to your every whim." You hung up and ran down the steps to the driveway. You angrily walked over to your dad's shed and kicked the tire on the tractor.

"Careful, you could break a toe doing that."

You spun and saw Timothée standing a few paces behind you. You sighed and closed your eyes. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough to confirm that he's an asshole. Though I did enjoy hearing you sing my praises," he smirked.

You laughed wetly as hot tears poured down your face. "I'm sorry that he called right as we were about to head out the door."

"Shh, don't worry about it." Timothée pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on your head. "I know you probably don't feel like eating after getting so worked up. Would you like to come over and chill at my place instead of going out? We can pick up a pizza, snuggle on the couch, and watch a movie"

"That sounds so much better than the original plan right now."

<><><><><> (minors DNI from this point)

Timothée held the door open for you to enter his house. While you had been on the property a couple of times since returning from California, you had yet to go inside his new place. This house was not here when the two of you dated in high school, so you had no idea what the interior looked like.

"Welcome," he said. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get us a couple of plates."

You walked to the couch and leaned against the back of it. "It's less...'bachelor pad' than I expected," you said through a laugh.

"Ah, well, I cleaned up my act once I started pushing 30." You chuckled. "Bathroom is over there," Timothée pointed, "if you need it." He walked around the counter and couch to the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Here, why don't you find something to watch while I divvy up the pizza."

You sat down on the couch, took the remote in hand, and started scrolling through Netflix. You still hadn't decided when he sat next to you with the pizza and beer. Still feeling the nostalgia from visiting the school with Madison, you settled on 13 Going on 30. He rolled his eyes.

"What? You told me to choose. I was inspired by your earlier comment about getting your act together at 30."

"I rolled my eyes because of the number of times you made me sit through this movie in high school. Some things never change."

"It's one of my faves!"

"Well, I guess I can appreciate the plot line a little more now. Guy in his 30s eventually gets the girl he pined over as a teen."

"Awww, you're getting sentimental in your old age." You grinned.

Timothée pretended to scowl at you, then booped you on the nose. "Are you going to press play or not?"

Once the two of you finished the pizza, you set the plates aside and curled up next to him. He draped his arm around you, allowing his fingers to lazily drift up and down your arm. As the movie progressed, his hand eventually found its way to the space above your jeans where your shirt had ridden up slightly. You shivered as he grazed the bare skin on your waist. You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked up at him. He seized the opportunity to capture your lips with his.

You hungrily opened your mouth to deepen the kiss. You felt his tongue glide across yours in return. You eagerly shifted to sit in his lap. He reached around and squeezed your ass before sliding his hands under your shirt. At first he just snaked his hands underneath, but then began to pull it up. You sucked in a breath and froze, catching his hand at the hem of your shirt. He pulled back to look at your face with concern.

"Timothée, I- uh, I don't have the same body I did as a teenager."

His face relaxed and he smiled warmly. "[Y/N], you were and still are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

"Yeah, but..." you argued as your insecurities became more evident.

"Let me guess," he interrupted. "Stretch marks? More curves from maturing into a gorgeous woman whose awe-inspiring body has brought life into this world?"

You simply nodded. Your cheeks blushed from the attention.

Timothée pulled you tighter against his body. "Let me love those, too." He stood with your legs still wrapped around him. His hands cupped your ass to support you as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck and clasped a hand in his hair. He placed a knee on his bed and laid you down gently.

"You okay?" he asked as he hovered over you. Your breathing shuddered, but you nodded.

"It's...it's been a while," you whispered.

"Me, too." Timothée gently grazed his lips against yours. Once. Twice. He then tugged at your shirt, and this time you made no move to stop him. He pushed himself up on his arms to take in the sight of you half-naked on his bed.

"Now, why am I more undressed than you?" you teased. You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled. He sat up and continued to pull it over his head. You sat up on your knees to run your hand down his chest and abs, stopping at the buttons on his jeans.

Timothée grabbed your hips and sucked in a breath in anticipation of your next move. "[Y/N], I want you so badly."

"Not as much as I want you." You both stood and clumsily finished undressing each other while hungrily kissing each other. He snuck a hand between your folds as you freed one leg from your pants. You gasped, having become unaccustomed to the feeling of another's touch. Noticing the reaction, he curled his fingers and rubbed your increasingly sensitive bundle of nerves. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck to prevent your collapse.

Just as you started to feel the heat of climax in your core, Timothée pulled away. You whined at the absence of his hand. He flashed a wry smile and licked his fingers. He pressed himself against you and pulled your chin up for a kiss. Then, he backed you up against the bed so your knees buckled, forcing you to lay back. He separated your legs with his body and dipped down onto his knees. You knew what was about to happen, but you were still not prepared for the overwhelming sensation of his warm tongue separating your folds. You involuntarily bucked up into his face. In return, his hands snaked to your hips to pin them down. You moaned and struggled against his grip as the coil inside your belly tightened and tightened. But yet again, he stopped before you could reach your climax.

Timothée reached for the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a condom. Once sheathed, he picked you up and pulled you further back onto the bed. He hovered briefly, staring into your eyes. "I never thought I would get to have this - have you - again."

"Take me," you breathed. "Please. I'm yours." Maintaining eye contact, he lined himself up and gently pushed in until he filled you completely. You both stilled, reveling in the closeness and allowing you a moment to adjust and accommodate his length. He began to work his hips, rutting up against you. The coil inside you quickly constricted again when he reached between you to rub your sensitive bud until you were finally overcome. Your walls clenched around him as you clung to him with all of your limbs, gasping his name.

After you caught your breath, you cupped his face in your hands and guided him down to kiss you. He continued to slowly grind against you, trying to postpone its inevitable end. You loosened your grip so he could pull back and gaze into your eyes.

"Timothée, I love you," you whispered as you stared into his emerald orbs.

He came undone at your confession.

<><><><><>

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie

[thevioletcaptain]

Hi! I don’t mean in any way to pressure you but I was wondering if you’re planning on continuing your fic “fortress”? I’d love to see it continue🥰 again no pressure I just really like your works!

Hi anon! Thanks for the message :)

Despite the hellishly long gap between updates, Fortress is not abandoned, and I do intend to finish it. It's actually pretty high up on my to-do list right now, and will be the next major thing I post once As A Friend is done.

Here's the order in which I plan to post DeanCas fics/updates over the next few months -- with some vague spoiler-adjacent-but-not-really-spoilery details for anyone who wants them:

Chapters 5 & 6 - As A Friend Roughly 35k words in total, split over these final two chapters. This will see Dean & Cas return to the bunker, announce their "fake" relationship to Sam & Jack, and then [redacted because I'm not giving the whole thing away even though you already know it's gonna be a happy ending].

Chapters 8, 9, & 10 - Fortress Roughly 22k words split between these three chapters. Chapter 9 (the during chapter in which Dean is suffering) & chapter 10 (the after chapter which follows the first days of Dean living with Cas after coming home) have been ready for a while, but chapter 8 (the before chapter, which features Robin's party when they were 16 👀 a party which you might recall was mentioned by Cas during the previous before chapter) has been holding them hostage. So as soon as 8 is ready I intend to post all three at once.

Oneshot - Hearts Beating Life (Into Each Other) Roughly 25k words of canonverse fuck-or-die fic. In which Cas gets cursed on a hunt, and you'll never guess what Dean has to do to save him..... lol. It'll probably get split into two or three chapters for readability, but I plan to post it all at once. This is only one final scene away from being complete at this point, but I want to finish As A Friend & update Fortress before I share it.

Chapter 8 - Isosceles Roughly 17k words, because this fic refuses to let me be succinct. Dean & Cas discuss more almosts, the angels make contact, we find out exactly what Sam said to Dean in chapter 4, Claire [redacted] when [redacted], Mary and Dean bond over [redacted], and the search for Kelly Kline picks up steam.

Chapters 3 & 4 - Empty Heroics Roughly 20k words split between these final two chapters. In which there is bed sharing, a plan is formulated, and Nobody Dies. I realize that barely anyone even read the first two chapters of this fic, but I still really like it and want to finish it off, so it's the fifth thing on my to-do list.

Oneshot - As-Yet-Untitled Shrinking Curse Fic Roughly 10k words of canonverse established relationship PWP. In which they've been together for literally three days when Dean gets hit with a shrinking curse that won't wear off for a year, and comes up with a creative solution to ensure that they can still enjoy the physical aspects of their new relationship despite being small enough to perch on Cas' shoulder.

Chapter 1 - One More Chain Does The Maker Make Roughly 10k words, and the first of five chapters. The whole fic should come in around 50-60k words, and it's canon-divergent from 15.06. Featuring a lot of pining, and Dean working on Jesse and Cesar's ranch. I posted about it here if you want to know more!

The final 5 chapters of Fortress & final 3 chapters of Isosceles will come next -- likely to be about another 30k and 45k respectively, based on current word counts and what remains to be written.

At some point in between all of this I also plan to post some updates to The Coda Project (I've written at least half of each coda up to 1.12 Faith at this point, I just need to buckle down and finish them off in order so I can start posting them again), along with a handful of short tumblr prompt meme ficlets I've written recently -- specifically, those based on the following six trios of emojis: [🧪🧛🏻‍♀️💦], [🔮🛁🫂], [🤠🎶🌬️], [🪼👀🎨], [🥬🍅✨], and [🥶😶‍🌫️🤯], all of which ended up being significantly longer than they should have been, hence the delay in posting them.

...aaaand I realize that this is far more information than you asked for so I apologize. But thanks again for your message, and for reading. I hope you enjoy all the updates when they're posted 💚

[unabashegirl]

Enticing 27 (HS)

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

—all chapters of Enticing —

Author’s note: Hello everyone, I know that last chapter I dropped a huge bomb on everyone, and things are just going to continue getting crazier. Anyway, here is another chapter. Please enjoy!

word count 1.9K

“There is no way,” she said to Patrick as she struggled to pull her phone out of her back pocket. “How?” Y/N whispered to herself, and she looked for the app that she used to track her cycle. Her mind trying to remember the last time she had slept with Harry and if they had used a condom. More importantly, she couldn’t remember if she had taken her pill that night. She usually took it after dinner around eight, but they had been so drunk that night.

“When a man and a woman—”

“Shut up, Patrick!” Y/N didn’t need his dry humor at the time. Her mind was cloudy and heard her heartbeat like a drum in her chest. She ran her hands across her face as she no longer left her legs and could only hear her own heartbeat.

“Breath, Y/N” Patrick tried to call her down, seeing that her face had gone pale, and she could barely hold her torso up. “Look at me” He commanded her, “breath just like me”.

“I- I can’t be pregnant,” She said in between heavy breaths, “there is no way. I've always been so careful.” It was as if she was trying to convince herself. No one could deny that she had always been exceptionally careful to drink her pill ever since her mother had put her on it. “I might not be pregnant. My gynecologist always said I would have trouble getting pregnant if I ever wanted to have kids.” It had hurt her to hear it, but she had accepted it. She reminded herself that the doctor had said trouble and not can’t.

“You know what you need to do.” Patrick said, “You need to take a test”.

“What if I am?” She covered her mouth, still shocked that it could be a possibility, “What am I going to do? I am not ready to be a mom! I don’t even have a job!” She explained.

“You are making assumptions based on nothing. First things first let’s go buy you a pregnancy test” Patrick got off the bench, determined to help her best friend figure out her future. He knew that if Y/N were pregnant and decided to have the baby, she would need to contact Harry. Patrick also knew that it wasn’t going to be easy, convincing her to tell him.

They crossed the street to a pharmacy, Y/N walked past the pregnancy test aisle and stopped before it. She stared at the army of them, and she still couldn’t process it all. She decided to buy blue ones that were digital.

“You should take another” Patrick suggested, after he had picked a bunch of snacks and drinks for the night. He knew it was going to be a long one. “In case that one it’s defective”. So, Y/N takes another one with a different mechanism for an answer.

“Patrick,” she said after they had paid and were on their way to the apartment. “I can’t raise a baby on my own.” Patrick hooked arms with her and kissed her head.

“You are not alone” he insisted, “I know you feel very alone because of everything that has happened with Harry, but you still got people around you. Plus, I am sure that Harry wouldn’t let you raise him on your own. He seems like a responsible father”.

Y/N didn’t say anything else until they were back in the warmth of their apartment. She was too busy thinking about Harry’s reaction. Oliver hadn’t even turned a year. He couldn’t possibly want another baby, especially after everything they had said to one another.

Patrick played some music and took all the snacks and placed them on the coffee table. He wanted to set the scene and wanted it to be the least stress-free possible. He was also nervous for her. Patrick had always heard her life plans and none of them involved an unwanted pregnancy. He was also sure that Y/N wouldn’t have the heart to go through an abortion. A guilty conscience would eat her away. It was just the way that she was wired especially after spending so much time with kids.

“Ready?” He asked her as she plopped down on the couch. “To pee on the stick?” he clarified.

“My bladder isn’t full” she pouted, “What are we doing?!”.

“I don’t even know” Patrick exhaled, “But here. Drink up” he handed her a large fruit punch Gatorade.

“Why do I feel like you want me to actually be pregnant?” Y/N asked she took the cap off the drink.

“Because I think you will be a wonderful mother if you are pregnant.” She smiled at her best friend and started to chug the Gatorade. It was actually quite nice. After all the nausea that she had been experiencing, it was very hydrating.

Halfway through drinking it, she left the need to go.

“Here” Patrick handed her the test and allowed her to do her business in the bathroom. After she peed successfully on the stick she paced on the counter after covering it with some paper towels.

“Set a timer for three minutes,” Y/N said as she walked out of the bathroom. Patrick nodded and diligently placed a timer on her phone.

They only needed to wait three minutes, but it felt eternal. Y/N started walking across the room trying to make the time go faster. On the other hand, Patrick just started shoving chips into his mouth, wanting to bite into something crunchy. It was quiet in the room aside from the chips and the soft music playing in the background.

The phone ringing startled them both out of their daze.

“I don't want to look” She confessed as she walked up to the bathroom and exited right back around.

“Do you want me to check for you?” He offered even though his hands were shaking, and he knew he would probably read it wrong and drop it a few times.

“No. This is something I should do” Y/N nodded and took two deep breaths before going to pick it up. Patrick waited for a few minutes for her reaction, but it never came.

“So?” He yelled from the living room, but once again it was dead quiet. So, Patrick pushed the bag of chips off his legs and got up. She was starting there looking at the test over and over again.

Patrick looked over his shoulder and gasped, couldn’t believe his eyes. In his defense, he had never seen a positive test before. It read ‘PREGNANT’ and under said 1–2 weeks.

“Holy shit,” he said under his breath as he wrapped his arms around her front behind.

“Holy shit,” she said too.

Life after Y/N had left a sour taste in his mouth. It had been incredibly hard for everyone in the house.

Harry hadn’t been able to provide the comfort that Y/N gave Oliver, and he had been sleeping horribly since that night. The first few nights Harry had come close to start crying with him. It broke his heart to see his son so distraught about losing his favorite person. Sometimes, he felt like Oliver was more her son than his because he certainly preferred her over him. Things eventually got easier; Harry made sure to follow his schedule, handwritten by Y/N that was posted on the fridge.

However, even if Oliver started adapting to her absence from Harry things got worse. The void that Y/N had felt in his life was more than noticeable. He would lay in bed and turn to his side and could only remember how she would shuffle her body closer to his in search of heat in the middle of the night. He hated waking up to an empty bed. The apartment was cold and lifeless.

“Mr. Styles?” Andrew said as he entered his office with a tray with his favorite breakfast. Harry held his head with his hands, while his elbows rested on his desk. He exhaled loudly and pulled his head up. “How about some breakfast?”

“Thank you, Andrew,” he said to him as he placed the tray on his desk. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew that Andrew was just trying to lift his mood a little. He had never seen him so heartbroken and even though Andrew hadn’t seen him shed a tear, he could tell that he was going through a rough moment. The bag under his eyes, the loss of appetite, the long hours working, and the fact that his suits were hanging off him since he had stopped going to the gym because of lack of energy.

“If you don’t mind me, speaking out of topic here” he carefully said, “perhaps you should give her a call? Or reach out to her? And she is just waiting for you.” Harry pursed his lips and Andrew thought that he was going to yell at him or fire him. He had been very on edge ever since they returned from Italy for obvious reasons.

“I’ve already called her, Andrew. Unfortunately, it seems like she had blocked me from reaching her which only means she wants nothing to do with me.” Harry attempted to call her the next day after their breakup. He wanted to talk to her and apologize for asking like a maniac, but the call never went through. Harry went through Instagram, but he was blocked there too, and on every social media. So, he recurred to an email even though he knew that she never checked them.

Andrew frowned and couldn't believe the extent that Y/N had gone to shut him out of her life. He personally didn’t know what he had done to anger her in that way, so he couldn’t speculate. He just couldn’t believe that the love that they had for one another had banished so quickly and so easily. Andrew was just sure of one thing and that was that Harry loved her endlessly and that he would forgive him in a heartbeat.

It was the next morning after Y/N had found out that she was pregnant when she received an email to her work email. The email had woken her up from her slumber. Patrick had decided to take a personal day, to take care of Y/N since he knew that she was struggling emotionally. And luckily, he stayed because the email that she had just received destabilized her emotionally.

“What happened?” Patrick ran to her room as she heard her sobbing uncontrollably.

Y/N handed him her phone, showing her an email that the nanny agency had sent her after she had applied to another family.

“Dear Ms. Y/L/N, thank you for submitting your interest in working for the Sinclair family. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to give you this job or any other job of this kind in the upcoming future. It has come to our attention that you have had an interpersonal relationship with the father of the last family assigned. May we remind you that it’s a violation of the code of conduct of our employees and therefore we will be terminating your contract with our agency. We wish you the best.”

“What have I gotten myself into Patrick?” She sobbed as the tears streamed down her face...

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[notknickers]

Helpful König Has a Nasty, Little Secret

last night i went to bed with this idea in my head (which made me giggle like an idiot!) and when i woke up this morning, it was still there, so... here it is.

synopsis: you have recently moved from your old town into a new one after finding work there, which has necessitated the search for a new flat. könig, an old family friend who happens to live there and owns a few flats to rent out, has reached out to you after learning of your move. he has got the most generous offer you could imagine: a rent so low in his biggest, recently remodelled and repainted flat right next to his, for all your tenant needs! that would be just the dream! how could you refuse?! let's hope there is no catch... warnings: perv!könig, pwp, marked age gap (mid-twenties and mid-forties), implied stalking, underwear thief, underwear kink, scent kink, masturbation, caught trespassing, caught masturbating, open ending

tentakönig frantically shakes his head with tentacles crossed in front of its silly octopus body and says: no youth below the age of eighteen allowed past this point.

könig, your new landlord, has developed a peculiar routine: he sneaks in your flat when he knows you won't catch him and, this morning, it's no different. he steals your knickers from the hamper right after you chucked them in there to go shower following the early morning run you take before work, before scampering away with his prize. however, this morning, he doesn't even wait to be back in his flat, clearly emboldened by his streak of previous success, incapable of resisting the thrill of the challenge. instead, he finds a quiet room in your flat, sure he will be gone before you even realise what happened, and leans against a wall, sniffing your underwear.

first, through his mask, taking his time to slowly and fully savour your used knickers as he rubs his hand on the crotch of his jeans, feeling himself grow hard sniff after sniff.

incapable of resisting any longer, he unbuttons his clothes, hefty cock, hard and veiny, springing out of its constraints, already leaking enough that his foreskin slips back unhindered to reveal his swollen, purpling head as könig barely brushes it betweeen gloved fingers. he stifles a satisfied hum. he toys with himself a while, gently caressing and teasing as he breathes in your scent. however, after not long, he needs more. he takes your knickers under his mask, soft, silky fabric pressed hard against his face to stuff his nostrils with your lovely scent.

his grip on himself tightens, movements increasingly staggered as he nears his peak. one last blissful huff, the smell of you filling his senses and his mind to the exclusion of everything else and he starts rubbing his needy cock with your underwear.

a few more pointed strokes and his seed spurts, hot and vehement, on the fabric as he slowly slips down on the floortiles. lifting his mask to take a much needed lungful of air after the impromptu tête-à-tête he had with himself and his stolen bounty.

you suddenly open the door to change into something fresh after your energising shower, towel comfortably wrapped around your figure. you abruptly halt on the threshold, eyes wide as they take in the image of your landlord, the quiet and helpful man in his forties whose flat you have been occupying for a few weeks, panting and mumbling in his native tongue, hips still bucking inside your knickers, now dirtier than ever.

he stares at you, panting sounding louder now that the tap of the shower is close. his cheeks, not covered by his mask, appear visibly damp and flushed. his trousers are lowered around his waist, hand finally unmoving, yet still wrapped around his cock, skin contact hindered by your thin, flimsy underwear.

he looks up in utter astonishment, uncertain what to say, but you are sure that the shame and surprise glimmering in his eye after getting so stupidly caught are tempered by the utter bliss of afterglow.

what do you do now that the old pervert has been caught red-handed and is at your mercy?! 😉

[armpirate]

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 4

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit. 

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 19 minutes

Chapter warnings: Dirty talk, online sex, masturbation (female and male), tongue play

San huffed, throwing his head as he winked after Mingi and Wooyoung had tried to settle a blind date for him. He didn't know the girl. In fact, they didn't even share a picture of her or talked to him about her before, but still expected him to go out of his way to meet with someone he could have nothing in common, other than the fact she knew Hongjoong -after working with him- and seemed as pressured as he was to meet someone.

—You always say the same thing —Wooyoung insisted—. You don't even know the girl, so why are you so quick to turn her down?

He stuttered, trying to think of a good reason.

Actually, he didn't have any good reason to turn her down. There was no reason, but it was a solid choice.

—I don't want to waste time with someone I don't know —he concluded—. If she wants to find someone to date, try to convince someone else. Why don't you go? —the attention shifted to Mingi.

The taller friend, who joined the conversation and added pressure to San just for the laughs, ended up snuggling on the couch, minding his business while scrolling through his phone, until karma went back for him.

—Unlike you, I actually go out and meet people by myself. Thanks for the worries, bud —he lifted his thumb, slowly moving his hand to show the middle finger to his friend.

Wooyoung's eyes shifted back to San, giving him that insistent look that got on his nerves. They were close, he loved him, but he swore he'd punch him on the face whenever he gave him that look.

—What's so hard about it that you can't do it? She won't bite. I bet she's open to dating, and will be willing to deal with your weird ass.

—If she has people setting her up with someone, that must be for something —San got up from the floor, determined to leave the living room.

—Actually, it's Hongjoong's doing. I don't know how we got to that point in the conversation, but he mentioned that since you're so closed to new people, it could be easier if we're the ones introducing girls to you. He said she's the only one on his contacts that seems to be single —Wooyoung's lips puckered, while shrugging his shoulders, trying to convince San.

—So you're trying to link me with someone Hongjoong has already slept with?

—Hongjoong didn't, he just knows her after he worked with her on a project —he sighed—. Apparently the girl's standards are high and she's difficult as fuck —he muttered to Mingi.

—Right, it's one hundred percent a no —San tried to close the conversation—. Tell Hongjoong I'm fine by myself, and I don't need anyone to set dates for me or any of that stuff. And stop talking about me or my love life with everyone.

San left the living room, closing himself inside his bedroom while Mingi and Wooyoung were both left outside, exchanging confused looks after they were alone.

—You think he might be dating someone already? —Mingi commented, looking at his door.

In a way, it'd make sense. It wasn't like San was completely detached from his phone before, but Wooyoung noticed the way his friend was more aware of his cell whenever he was out of the safe place his room was, to the point where they both had to tell him to leave his phone and spend time with reality. And he was caught a few times smirking or blushing at something while checking his phone, after he received a notification.

If they wanted to know, San wasn't the one they would get their information from.

—I bet he's on his phone right now —Wooyoung sentenced.

Mingi didn't need a clearer way to be told what they were about to do, getting up from the couch with a wide smile. Usually, it was always San and Wooyoung doing that type of thing to him, so it was exciting to join forces against the person that teased him the most.

They both walked together to his door, trying as hard as possible not to make a sound so he wouldn't have time to hide anything before they opened his door.

—What if we don't find anything?

Wooyoung turned to him, smacking his arm silently before he lifted his index to his lips to hush him. If they missed the chance to know what was going on with his friend because Mingi messed up, someone was going to end up with his ass kicked.

—At the count of three, we go in —Wooyoung barely spoke, thinking it'd be enough to just exaggerate his vocalization as some silent noises left his mouth.

—Huh? —Mingi frowned.

—One —Wooyoung said a bit louder, ignoring the confused expression on his friend's face.

—Two, three —Mingi rushed.

Mingi bursted inside the room first, completely ignoring San's face because he had only one target he cared for at that moment. While he trapped his friend's body against the bed, Wooyoung hurried to the other side to snatch the phone away from his hand.

—What are you two doing? —San tried to move under his friend.

Not only was the conversation with Y/n open, his channel also was. He was checking how long he had gone without posting a new video, as he simultaneously spoke with Y/n. His heart started beating fast, pumping against his chest in a way that got to hurt him at some point at the idea of what he did to pay for all of his things.

—Holy shit.

—What? —Mingi raised his head, quickly getting up to stand next to Wooyoung— Fuck. Who's this?

Getting up to confront both of his friends, he tried to take his phone back, but Wooyoung moved it further from his reach with a cocky smile.

—Tell us who she is, and we'll leave —Wooyoung tried to negotiate.

San felt relieved when they showed the profile picture Y/n had on the app they used to chat. Her hair rested over one of her shoulders, while her head was tilted as she smiled for the picture. She looked extra beautiful there.

—It's not your business —San insisted, trying to get his phone again.

—We are your friends —Mingi replied back.

—At this point, I'm reconsidering that.

The sound of the notifications coming in made him freak out, knowing their chat was open and they were causing her texts to be left on read with no response. He knew his friends would not leave until getting a response, he knew it because he had done that as well.

—My girlfriend —San finally answered quickly, with some letters almost stumbling on one another—. She is my girlfriend.

Taking advantage of the way both Mingi and Wooyoung looked shocked at that answer, he snitched his phone back and saved it in the pocket of his baggy pants.

At the end of the day, it wasn't like they'd ever know the truth. Probably Y/n was from a different city, and the possibilities of them running into her were quite unlikely. Neither would be hurted, and also it'd work as a way to push away Mingi and Wooyoung's trials on playing as matchmakers whenever they had the chance. He could only be thankful he always deleted all of their filthy pictures after every conversation.

—How did you meet her? —Wooyoung asked first.

—And why didn't you tell us about her before? —Mingi reproached, pointing at the pocket where he had saved his phone.

—Not your business.

Walking behind them, both of his arms hooked around his friends' neck as he guided them back to the door. Both of his friends complained as they were guided outside, finding the door closed in front of them as soon as they left his room.

Sighing, San locked the door behind him before he got his phone back out. When he saw the picture she sent, he could only think of how lucky he was that neither Wooyoung or Mingi were on the chat, being too busy inspecting her profile pic to care about what they talked about.

That Saturday, she had just sent one of her nsfw pics of her blurry naked figure reflected on the bathroom mirror full of steam. It was clear as day that she was naked after taking a shower, but it was impossible to clearly see what the mist was hiding.

San: Fucking hell, Y/n.......

He had struggled with what to say after he sent that, deleting all the filthy words that were going through his brain at that moment. Meanwhile, she had seen the way he read her texts for a few long minutes, before he actually reacted and started typing for a few long minutes. She giggled as a consequence, wondering if that picture had made the man of her wet dreams stutter with what to say next.

It wasn't like it was the first time she sent a picture like that, but almost all the times she got the same reaction until their conversation evolved to something more.

San: Omg

You: You liked it?

Her text reeked of fake innocence. He knew, she knew.

San: I hated it

Her heart skipped a beat, stopping completely when she saw that text before he suddenly left the app again. If she hadn't known him, she'd have thought he indeed didn't like what she sent, but after talking with him for a few weeks -with those spicy conversations almost being part of their routine-, she could just sit and wait until he found the proper words to trigger her back.

Wearing the bathrobe as the only clothing that covered her body, she sat in the middle of the bed, waiting for his text.

San: It's unfair I can't see that in person

His answer made her smile instantly, biting her lip while she thought of the next thing to say. She didn't know where he was from, or where exactly he lived. They both thought it was a thin line of privacy that shouldn't be crossed, but it still excited her to see that tiny wish of seeing her in person.

You: Maybe we can do something better...

You: are you home?

San: Yeah

San: What did you think about?

She didn't think it through, she was just pushed by the idea of feeling closer and more real through it, and chose to act before she could even process her own idea. She had thought of the idea of doing a video call several times since they started talking, but it always ended up in the corner of bad ideas when she thought that maybe it'd be too much.

But that day her fears were left aside, clicking on the video call option, waiting for him to answer. Holding her phone up high, making sure the front camera was at the level of her face, she checked her reflection while she bit her lip nervously. The more tones that sounded the bigger the disappointment was, thinking that maybe she got ahead of herself. At some point she even thought if he lied to her and he didn't look the way he did on pictures. He was way too good to be true.

Suddenly, everything was silent and she was surprised by his face on the screen.

She couldn't believe she ever thought he wasn't real. His foxy eyes looked at his screen with a gentle look, squinting as he smiled without showing his teeth -and the dimples that formed on his cheeks in consequence made him look so soft.

—So I see you weren't lying on taking a shower —he commented, making one of his eyebrows disappear behind his bangs.

After spotting her clean and bright face, his eyes went lower to her shoulders, covered by the white robe he had seen on some teasing pictures she had sent before.

—You thought I was baiting you? —his deep chuckle sent shiverings all over her body, before she chose to keep talking to hide how nervous he actually was making her—. It'd have been perfect timing for you to send a picture, too —she pointed out.

The way he tried to keep the way he looked on that baggy gray sweater, that almost exposed his collarbones, should've been considered a crime.

—You got ahead of me —he played with his hair, smiling nervously at her comment. His smile slowly dropped to a smirk, as his eyes concentrated on hers for a brief second—. You're beautiful.

Taking the compliment the best way she could, she simply smiled and lowered her face enough the moment she felt her cheeks lighting up.

—Don't cover up. That's cute —he giggled.

But she couldn't help it. All the time through messages, she giggled and kicked her feet at some of his texts freely, but it was completely different when he was seeing her blushing and getting nervous in real time.

She clearly wasn't used to that type of treatment.

—You also look good —she assured him.

—Better than in pics?

Far better than in pictures.

Sometimes, pictures could be deceiving. The factor of good lighting, the proper angle, or even the best side of the face played a huge part on how good a person looked on pictures (without taking in consideration the use -or overuse- of filters or photoshop. Both of them were glad it wasn't the case for neither of them.

—Maybe —she answered, teasingly.

—I already had high expectations on you, but you made sure to break them all off —his mouth was trying to transmit that comment with a sexy appeal, yet his smile and the way he nervously pressed his lips betrayed him.

Aside from the sexy videos or his harsh looks, that man seemed to be made out of the softest fabric in the cuddliest cloud -something that made him wonder where his Soundleasure persona came from.

As he moved his phone to place it better on his desk, she was able to spot a microphone at the height of his lips peeking through the corner of her screen.

—So is that where you record your content? —she asked curiously.

—Ah, this... —San lowered his gaze when he was aware of the microphone— Yeah. This is where the magic happens.

But right after saying that, his confidence was all gone, covering his face up with both of his hands out of embarrassment.

There was something exciting about spotting the man she desired on the place that created the content that made her want him in the first place. It was like getting the privilege of seeing the sneak peek of something no one ever before had seen. And she wanted to do way more than just seeing some of it.

—You said it was unfair you couldn't see me in person —she started, tilting her head slightly—. What exactly do you want to see?

Uncovering his face, one of his eyebrows raised at her question, grinning while he rested his back against the gaming chair in his room.

—Your skin. I bet it looks softer than it does in pictures.

She was pleased with his answer, nodding while curving down her lips and arching her eyebrows. Her robe slightly slipped off her right shoulder, exposing her collarbone and the curve of one of her breasts.

—Can you appreciate it now?

Of course he was. He could feel his dick twitching under the fabric of his pants, noticing how her skin looked a bit humid still after the shower.

—Kinda —he sighed—. It looks better than on the pic, but not good enough —San smiled again—. Maybe I need to see a bit more.

If she had tried to do that with anyone else... Honestly, she probably wouldn't have gone that far with anyone else.

She moved the robe down over her other shoulder, letting the fabric hang on her arms -enough to cover up her nipples, but still exposing her cleavage. It was nothing he hadn't seen before, but seeing her like that felt so new for San, more real... Almost thinking she was to his reach if she moved his hand up a tiny bit.

—Would you be able to handle this in person? —the middle finger of her free hand traced her collarbone ever so gently she felt tickles from her own touch.

—I'd do more than just handle it —San assured, with his voice going lower with every word—. But I'd for sure rip that thing off. It's pissing me off.

The more it passed, the more comfortable he started feeling, letting his thoughts speak before they even made it to his filter process.

—You don't need to break it though, just... —while giggling, she undid the knot on the upper part of her belly, allowing the soft fabric to expose her breasts on the screen— open it.

A whimper came out of his lips, getting stuck at the back of his throat, as he hoped it had been low enough so it didn't reach for his mic for her to hear it. San tried to find a more comfortable position, while also rolling it a bit more to the back to show more than just his torso.

He knew exactly what he was doing, because Y/n had never had the urge to sit on someone's lap until she saw half of his legs on the screen, in awe with the way those black pants looked so good on him when his hands fell on them lazily.

—Those tits are begging to be sucked.

For a quick second, he regretted ever saying that, seeing her looking at her camera surprised, but slowly calming down when her hand wandered over her torso after her nippled tightened at the filth in his words.

—Hmm. I bet they'd look so good in your mouth right now.

Just the thought of it got her body working faster than it had ever worked before, as if she was going to take him at any time.

—Of course —San nodded—. I'd make them hard and stiff until they hurt.

Following his words, her index and thumb rubbed on her nipples, tightening the grip sporadically, ending it with a pinch and pull that got her pressing her thighs at the sudden throb.

—I want to see you, too —she asked.

San thought he'd collapse right there when he saw her pouting as she said that, her hand dropping out of the camera vision while her eyes intensely looked at him. Maybe he was too horny, or maybe his lack of experience with any other girl made him so eager for her. But there he was, willing to do anything she'd ask for.

While he took off his sweater, she placed a pillow at the edge of the bed just so she could rest her phone on it and forget about holding it up in the air. She heard him groan at the sight of her half naked body, while her hands still held together the edges of her robe so her lower part wouldn't be exposed.

—I think this is the hardest I've ever been for someone —he mentioned, stroking his growing bulge over his black sweatpants.

—Let me see how hard I'm making you, then —she dared him, kneeling in the middle of the bed.

It didn't take San a minute before he was lowering his pants and boxers enough to let his cock spring free in the air, and ending up resting on his stomach. Her eyes got lost in the shape of his dick, thinking of its taste, as she traced the veins that went from the base to the tip with her tongue.

She could feel your mouth watering at the image, wishing they weren't doing all of that through a screen. That man for sure wasn't real. Every inch of his body was perfect.

—Cat got your tongue? —he teasingly asked, stroking his length while he looked at her.

—I wish that was the problem —she scoffed, bending over on her stomach while she rested her body on her elbows, so she could see his image up close—. I've never wanted to get choked on a cock so bad in my life.

—I bet you'd look gorgeous with your mouth stuffed with it —he groaned.

She smiled, aiming two of her fingers at her mouth. She rubbed the tip of her fingerprints on her flat muscle, just to close her lips around them while staring straight at the camera. It felt as if your eyes were connecting through the whole thing, causing San to curse as soon as she did that.

That was an image he didn't know he needed until then.

—Show me how wet you are while you still suck on those fingers, hmm?

Maybe he was getting too greedy as their conversation evolved, but he couldn't hold back. Everything she did just made him want more.

Biting on her own fingerprints, she smiled. She for sure was leaking at that point, she could feel her juices dripping from her entrance to her clit when she bent over to the camera. Changing her position again, she opened her robe completely with her legs still closed as she sat in front of the camera. Once she made sure everything was on sight for him, she spread her legs, having San moaning out loud at the vision of her glistening folds.

Her wet fingers with her spit traveled all the way from her lips to her pussy, moving through her folds for him. Her heart skipped a beat when they reached her clit, finally being taken care of after ignoring it for so long.

—Wet enough to have my face buried in it —his raspy voice added—. I bet you taste so fucking good.

All those scenarios she planted in her head, with a mysterious man with no face, finally came back to her head with every detail she could add. Her pussy clenched at the image of his eyes peeking over as his tongue did wonders on her clit.

—I'd love to know if that tongue is as good at licking as it is at dirty talk —she joked, finding his eyes somewhere on the screen again, while she rubbed her clit in slow circles.

—You can bet I'd have your legs trembling and your ears beeping after you cum —he smirked—. Slide two fingers in. Open up for me.

And just the same way she allowed her fingers to go down her slit, and skink them inside her, she saw San spitting on his hand and wrapping it around his shaft again.

—That's it, honey. Knuckles deep —he encouraged her, making the biggest effort to keep his eyes open through his own pleasure. Pump them in and out as if it were my cock.

The praise in his words, the way he controlled her movements even from afar had her completely out of her mind. She was sure the sound of his voice was giving her more pleasure than her own fingers.

Managing to open her eyelids, that felt heavier than ever before, she got a moan stuck in the back of her throat when she saw him pumping his cock at a steady pace. The way she was able to see her open legs through the corner of her eyes, while her attention was fixed on the pornographic scene he was pulling, made it even hotter.

She was sure the temperature rose a few more degreed the moment they started that video call.

—You'd look even better if it was my cock fucking you —he moaned, moving his hand faster on his length—. Your tits bouncing every time I pound into you, holding you tight by your hips so you could take it all.

—I bet you'd stretch me out so good —she nodded.

Her brain was close to having a dead short at any time. The naughtiness in his words, mixed with everything that was going on in real life and in her head was too much to handle. Her back arched every time she sank her fingers in and her palm rubbed on her clit.

—I'm gonna cum —she cried, unable to hold it back any longer.

—I'm so close, too —he groaned, throwing his head back finally—. Wait for me, I'm almost there —he asked, in a needy tone that almost made her succumb to her own pleasure.

Still moving her fingers in sync with his movements, she found herself at the edge of the cliff, only allowing herself to jump from it when she heard him mutter he was ready, too. Both of their moans got mixed in the air, as they both reached their highs. Slowly, those moans turned to loud pants while they tried to get some oxygen back to their lungs.

Daring to look at him, she found San with his head falling back to the chair, eyes still shut while he smiled pleased.

—It was amazing —he whispered.

—I know —she agreed, sighing.

San finally opened his eyes, and she was left mesmerized by how beautiful and genuine they looked.

She saw him getting some air, and opening his mouth, before he got interrupted by a male voice coming from outside the room.

—Where the fuck is the controller? I need to beat these assholes' asses.

San could only think of throwing that same controller he talked about straight at his head as soon as he stepped outside.

—I won't take long —he assured her, before he hung up the video call.

Back in the silence and loneliness in her room, she made her best at holding in the sudden need to jump on the bed and dance away in excitement.

Her bad streak was over, except for the fact that everything was still online. But she'd find a solution to it.