#I fell into this pit come with me to the bottom

[mrsbarnesblog]

loyalty

masterlist

summary: Rafe comes back home to you after his meeting with Hollis

word count: 2k.

warnings: smut, established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, jealousy, reader is slightly insecure

You turned the TV in the living room off as soon as you heard the front door getting closed and the familiar ring of Rafe’s keys being thrown on the table. Patting slowly into the corridor, you bit your lip at the sight of him standing in the hallway, looking sexy as hell in that new sweater of his, and focused on something on his phone. 

“Hey, baby. How did it go?” You stepped closer, dragging Rafe’s attention to you as a soft smile stretched across his face. 

“Thought you were already sleeping.” He put his phone in the back pocket of his pants, now completely focused on you, and pulled you in his arms as soon as you approached him. Rafe hummed in your hair before picking you up from the floor and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “Missed you so much, sweetheart.” 

You giggled at his words, your own hands connecting around Rafe’s neck, feeling every single muscle moving under your fingers. “You saw me like two hours ago.” You mumbled, scratching his neck with your nails, relieving the tension you knew was always present in his body. He silently walked back into the living room, one hand firmly holding you under your thighs, and fell onto the couch's soft cushions. 

You were settled on his lap, your worn-out gray t-shirt lifted up, almost not leaving anything for the imagination. He kissed you roughly and unexpectedly, taking a breath away from your lungs. You moaned into Rafe's mouth, gripping the back of his buzzed head to try to keep up with his pace, but he seemed far too eager for you. 

He finally slightly moved away from you, resting against the back of the couch and looking at you with a lazy smile, while his tongue slowly swiped across his bottom lip, tasting you. Your eyes followed the motion and you shifted on his lap at the sudden pressure in between your legs.  

“Couldn’t wait to get home back to you, baby.” You held back your smile but leaned your head to the side, studying his face. You knew Rafe and knew when there was something on his mind. 

“Did something happen?” You lean closer to his face, resting your hands on the cushions behind him. 

“Didn’t sign that yet... I dunno, something seems off, y’know?” He mumbled and rubbed your legs up and down, as he did whenever he was thinking about something. “And she was hitting on me, like tryna hold my hand and shit.” He didn’t break eye contact with you even when your smile slowly faded and you instantly felt a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. A quiet oh left your lips, as your mind filled with the images of them together, alone on the boat, just a perfect opportunity for someone like Rafe to charm the woman to get more money. “No, no, you’re not moving. You don’t think that I did it, do you?” He tightened his grip on you when you attempted to leave his lap.

“I mean…” You casually shrugged your shoulders, which made Rafe actually laugh in disbelief. 

“You mean?” His hand took a hold of your face to make you look him in the eyes. “I may be many things but a cheater is not one of them, baby. Shit, actually, her doing all of this made me realize that I can’t even think about anyone but you.” Rafe looked at you, one hand dragging your body up his thighs until you were sitting chest-to-chest. 

“I know that you wouldn’t cheat but...”

“There’s no ‘but’. I told her that I wanted to sign that agreement for both me and you. I’m not interested in anything else. Just you.” You felt like you were melting under his intense stare, because you knew when Rafe said something, he meant it. “You, um… I want it all together, just us, y’know?”

Your heart was beating way too hard to be considered normal. You never expected to hear it from Rafe, always in the back of your mind facing a thought about not being enough, about him leaving you for a better opportunity. No matter how hard you tried to muffle that voice in your head, it always seemed to find a way to you. Yet Rafe had it right in front of him but didn’t do it. 

This time you were the one who kissed him. Fisting the collar of Rafe’s sweater, you pulled him closer to you, even if it was not possible, grinding your hips into his and moaning at the feeling of his hands sneaking under your shirt. 

“Tell me that you’re in it with me, baby. I need to hear it.” He mumbled into your mouth, tracing your stomach and then pinching your nipples in between his fingers. He buckled his hips up into your covered pussy, making you push your lower body back against his to relieve the pressure. 

“I’m with you, Rafe, I promise.” 

Your hands reached between you two, quickly unbuckling Rafe’s belt and barely even pushing his pants and boxers down. You both were too desperate to feel each other, not even bothering to take the clothes off or move to his bedroom. Rafe lifted your hips with one hand, pushing your panties to the side with the other one, while you stroked his throbbing cock. You guided him to your soaked entrance, letting him easily slip inside with the way how wet you were for him. 

“Shi-i-it, baby.” He hissed near your ear, pulling you lower onto him, until you took his whole length. Your nails dug into Rafe’s sweater, and your brows furrowed in pleasure at the delicious stretch that he gave you. “Takin’ me in so well, huh?” His voice was low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine as he held you steady against him. You could feel his breath hot against your ear, and the way he filled you made your head spin, every inch of him pressing deeper.

“Please, I need you.” Whining and pushing your knees against the couch, you barely moved yourself up from Rafe’s length when he pushed you back down, instead taking control of you.  

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he rocked you slowly, the friction making you moan softly into his neck. “You feel that? Just made for me, baby.” His tone was a mix of praise and hunger, and each word sent heat coursing through your body. “Don’t need anyone else but you.”

You nodded, pulling your face back and resting your forehead against his. The air between you was thick, your mouths hovering close to each other, moaning and groaning with each thrust of Rafe’s hips into yours. His gaze was locked on you, dark blues possessive and filled with lust, which almost made you spiral. 

“You know you’re the only one, right?” Rafe’s voice was a husky whisper, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “Forget about her. I don’t see anyone but you.” He tilted his head slightly, brushing his lips against yours, teasing, his hands gripping your hips firmly, as if to prove his point. “She doesn’t matter. You’re all I want.”

You kissed him, the jealousy washing away with every word and touch that Rafe gave you. You held his jaw with one hand, sneaking under the sweater with another to slide your nails down his chest. It felt like kissing you made him even more feral, even more greedy, as his grip tightened on your hips, and he fucked into you harder and harder. 

It was impossible to concentrate on anything besides the way his dick was filling you, making your head buzz with white noise from the pleasure. Your eyes started to water, feeling approaching orgasm. Your body almost tried to move away from Rafe’s brutal strokes, but he grabbed your ass, keeping you pinned down, ensuring you took every inch he had to give.

“Mhm, Ray, shit—” Your hoarse voice cracked as you tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken moan. Your eyes rolled back, your hand helplessly sliding down from his face, as you were no longer able to control yourself. Rafe smirked, clearly pleased with how you lost yourself  on top of him, his pace relentless, fucking up into you with bruising force.

“Yeah? You feel that?” He growled, his breath ragged as he watched your face contort in pleasure. “You’re not going anywhere. This is all for you, baby.” His grip tightened, almost painful, as he rocked into you harder, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through your body, pushing you right to the edge. “Cum for me, c’mon.” 

“Rafe—” You gasped, your voice barely a whisper, lost in the haze of pleasure that blurred your thoughts. His hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you down so your lips were just inches from his, your breath mingling as you both panted for air.

“That’s it, baby.” He whispered against your lips, his eyes burning with intensity. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

With one final, deep thrust, the coil inside you snapped, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your vision blurred, and all you could do was cling to him as your orgasm hit hard, your body trembling uncontrollably in his arms.

Too lost in the pleasure, you barely noticed him grunting your name and then moanning as his own orgasm hit him. Rafe filled you up to the brim, you felt every throb of his cock inside of you, barely able to hold back whimpers from the goosebumps that the feeling of it brought you.

“Good girl.” Rafe murmured, his low voice full of pride and satisfaction as he slowed his movements, letting you ride out your high while holding you close, his forehead still pressed to yours. 

You didn’t know when exactly Rafe pushed your both to your sides, or when did he pulled out of you and fixed your clothes to look more presentable, or when did he pulled a blanket over you. You blinked slowly, looking at his face right in front of you, feeling his delicate fingers pushing the hair away from your face and tracing your jawline and lips. You smiled at the feeling, relishing a rare moment of him being so soft and relaxed. 

“So what are you gotta do now?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him, curiosity mingling with concern. The playful glint in his eyes shifted for a moment, revealing the weight of the situation.

Rafe leaned in closer, his expression shifting from relaxed to focused. “Well, Hollis thinks she can play me. Thinks I’m an idiot, but I’m not. I’m not about to let that happen.” He replied, his tone low, sarcastic. “I’ll need to keep her close, let her think she’s in control, but really? I’m just waiting for the right moment to turn the tables.”

“You’re not.” You soothed when you saw annoyance start to rise in him. You placed your hand on top of his, giving a comforting squeeze. “I believe in you, and I know you’re gonna do the right thing. Maybe she’ll know better for trying to steal you away from me.”

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. “Damn right, she will. I’m not going anywhere, especially not with you by my side.” He leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss and bringing you even closer to his body. 

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.

His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.

“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”

You felt him twitch inside of you, and in search of a distraction, your gaze fell to the collection of papers fanned out over the desk in front of you. You knew you were supposed to be reading them, but the text seemed so impossibly small, and your last round of medication was still clouding your senses, making it hard to focus on much of anything beyond the throbbing in your core, the feeling of his cock stretching you open despite your body’s best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like ‘unfit’ and ‘dependent’ mixed in with the rest of the benign text, but when you tried to put it all together, none of it made sense. It was all you could do to check the boxes Harper pointed to, sign your name on any dotted lines that hadn’t already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, he’d let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldn’t imagine having to sleep in his office, again.

“And you’ve been so cooperative, too,” he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. “Always taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind – the pinnacle of an ideal patient. Honestly, sometimes I think I could tell you to stick your hand in a vat of boiling water, and you’d do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.”

It was him moving, this time – shifting forward until your stomach was pressed against the blunt edge of his desk and he was all-but draped over you, his body pressed flush against yours. You let out a pitchy whine by way of protest, but Harper didn’t seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. “Almost done, little mouse. Just one more page.” He was practically cooing as he took you by the wrist, guiding your hand to the bottom of the final page. Two thick, cutting lines occupied most of the available space, his neat signature taking up the first. He brought you to the second, almost daunting in its vacancy, his index finger tapping against the back of your hand. “You remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?”

It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadn’t been planted so deeply inside of you. “If…” you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. “If I do, can I go home?”

Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadn’t meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didn’t want to be anywhere but this hospital, his hospital before he frowned and prescribed you another electrotherapy session, another dose of the small, white pills that left your thoughts blurred and your body hot. But, anything you might’ve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. “Of course,” he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. “Sign, and I’ll take you home tonight.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to smile. Hastily, smudging the ink more than once, you scrawled your name across the brutal line, dropping the pen and going slack against Harper as soon as you were finished. There was another open-mouthed kiss to your throat, then the dip of your shoulder, and he dragged you back onto his lap with a playful squeeze to your thigh, a grin pressed into the crook of your neck. You squirmed unabashedly, now, your hands  graspingly weakly at the arms of his chair in hopes of pulling yourself to your feet, but Harper held you tight. “Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?”

“I need to— You said I could go—”

“Just give me another minute, darling.”

His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.

“I want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.”

[bunnyscryptarchived]

So Wet

content / warnings -> MDNI (18+) —TABOO

🖋️sarah cameron x fem!reader: cw ; perv!sarah, masturbating with shower faucet, oral(f), degradation, praise, fingering.

part one!

sarah couldn't help it. she knew it was wrong—still, she couldn't stop herself from swiping your panties out of your laundry after she told you she was heading up to take a bath before bed. relishing in her perversion. she buried her nose deeper in to the soft fabric and inhaled deeply. gripping the edge of the tub so hard her knuckles turned white as the warm water flows on her puffy clit. sarah rotates her hips— bucking in to the water as she pictures you touching her. hands gripping her breasts, traveling down her stomach, before burying your face in to her cunt. you'd make her feel so good. her obsession with you grew day by day and tonight it's at an all time high.

you laid back on the couch. finishing up the last of the movie. stomach full of worry. sarah had been gone awhile, it's not like her to miss out on a movie. maybe you should go and check on her.. she has been acting strange lately. climbing up the stairs, it's eerily quiet until you hear water running and the sound of heavy breathing.

inching closer to the bathroom, you crack the door open. seeing sarah writhing under the faucet, your panties under her nose. jaw dropped and eyes wide as your eyes lock on to the way she holds herself up with arm. chest rising rapidly as her stomach contorts. she looks angelic. her tanned skin glistening. the entire scene had you losing your mind with lust, clenching your thighs as you admire your best friend get off. loving the pretty sounds leaving her lips. you could tell from the way her eyes rolled back and the speed of her hips that she was close and you didn’t want to miss out.

“want some help there?” your voice comes as a shock as sarahs screams and nearly looses her grip. clumsily jolting to sit inside the tub fully. the sight woudve been comical enough to make you laugh but you’re far too turned on.

“i- what… how long have you been standing there!?” she makes no move to cover her chest as you stalk closer to her. arms stretched across the tub as your face is inches away from hers.

“long enough.” tongue darting out to wet your bottom lips as your eyes travel down her body. “now i asked… if you wanted some help.”

sarah lays against your chest, head thrown back on your shoulder. muffled moans coming thru the panties that you shoved in her mouth, brown eyes squeezed shut as your fingers disappear deep inside her and come back out soaked.

"take my fingers so well" planting greedy kisses against the soft skin of her neck while circling the tip of your pointer finger over her clit, she bucked her hips at the feeling.

"wanna see you cum, baby, show me, how you cum”

you felt her tighten around your fingers, her body shaking as she panted heavily against you.

you pulled sarah's body tighter against your chest, locking her in place as you took the panties out of her mouth— fingers gradually, but quickly quickening their pace inside of her.

you could hear her moans more clearly now and my god did she sound so sexy.

she whined and bucked her hips harder into the palm of your hand. she tried closing her legs close around your hand, but you used your free hand to pry them back apart. “nah baby, keep those legs open for me” 

"be a good slut for me."

her fingers clenched tightly on the arm you used to pin her body against yours as there pit in her stomach raged at this point. " oh fuck— fuck! wanna cum for you”

"then cum for me."

the sync of your fingers inside of her and the way the heel of your hand grinded on her clit just right had her seeing stars as her mouth fell open in a silent scream.

you could feel a wet slick pool on the palm of your hand as she rocked against you. her body pressed hard against you mixed with watching her cum jump starting your own orgasm.

"o-oh shit"

her nails dug deep into your arm as you both squirmed against each other. your teeth latching on to her shoulder.

as you both came down from your highs, basking in each other's presence. sarah's head tucked into the crook of your neck as you planted a kiss to her hairline. you sat in comfortable silence until,

"so when did you turn in to such a little perv huh?"

your friendship is not going to be the same after this

tags: @juniebugg @breeistired @ijustwantttoread

[targaryenluvs]

THE SMALLFOLK’S PRINCESS

PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Dark!Greens x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: After meeting you whilst scouring for his brother, Aemond finds himself interested in you. Even if you aren’t a Targaryen, and it’s not like you can resist a Dragon, right?

WARNINGS: Dark Themes, Stalking, Jealousy, Abuse of power, Intimidation, Marriage

WORDCOUNT: 2.2K

A/N: I’ve been wanting to start posting again, and with Hotd s2 I have the perfect come back period :) Requested here.

You’d been shopping for chicken at the markets for your brothers birthday. Your mother wanted to make his favourite dish and your father had returned home from Driftmark where he owned a fleet of fishing vessels.

Your family was middle class. You’d never gone to bed hungry, and were raised in a family of love. Whilst you didn’t have the money to buy a new dress or jewellery every week, you were more than comfortable with what you had and grateful.

Your parents had worked hard for everything they had and they only wanted the best for you. To marry someone who could care for you and so they wouldn’t have to worry for your safety.

You wanted safety. You’d seen some of the worst parts of Kings Landing, and heard the rumours of Flea Bottoms past notoriety for its darkness.

All you wanted was to never experience it, or have your children experience it. To know your family was secure. You cared, some would say too much.

You especially cared for your family. So picking the best ingredients and foods for tonight was crucial in your mind. As you browsed the meat, you couldn’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable. Was someone watching you right now?

With a swift turn you’d managed to view a finale of a dark hood bowing down as your gaze reached it. But it simply disappeared amongst the sea of people, odd.

You returned to the stall and picked your choices, “Thank you, keep the change.” The seller beamed as she gladly accepted the offer, “Oh bless you sweet girl.” You nodded your head before collecting your bag. Everything needed for dinner had been bought, except a certain drink.

You’d never heard of it before, but apparently it was only sold out of a brothel. How fun.

Your hand coiled around your bag as you passed unsavoury characters. To be in the pits of Kings Landing was idiotic in all honestly, especially for a woman alone. But you had a sense of security in the dagger by your hip.

A glimpse of silver hair to your side caused your head to tilt, what Targaryen would spend their time here?

Prince Aegon of course. “Aegon!” Aemond yelled for his brother as the elder of the two ran through the crowd colliding into surrounding people.

The Prince continued to run recklessly as you and others watched the scene unfold. He was obviously drunk and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the younger Targaryen. You knew he was having a hard time.

So you may or may not have put your foot out.

“Fuck!”

Aegon fell to the floor as you pretended to come to his aid, “Are you alright my prince?” Aegon was about to push your hands off of him, but one look at your face had him biting his tongue. “I am quite all right.” You held your hands out for Aegon to take them, as you hoisted him up Aemond stood tall to the right.

“I guess I’ve been caught Dear Brother.” He smiled widely at his brother. Aemond had his arms crossed against his stomach with a hardened expression. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or annoyed, either way you didn’t want to be on his bad side. “It seems so. Come along now Aegon, don’t make this any more complicated. Unless you’d rather have guards escorting you back.” At the idea of guards Aegon groaned and turned to his brother, clinging to his elbows as he shook his younger brother.

You wondered if he remembered you.

“I’ll go with you, quit hastening me. Hastening? Hassling? Whatever. As long as this fine woman helps me to the comforts of my bed. You’d love to see the inside of the Red Keep no?” You batted your eyes as you realised the Prince was speaking to you. His and Aemond’s gaze burnt into you, brightening your cheeks as you shook your head, “There’s no need for my help Prince Aegon. I’ll be on my way.” With a quick smile you dismissed the conversation, but Aegon hardly relented.

He was taken aback by your dismissal, but not disheartened, “I did not say you could leave nor was I asking.”

And so you found yourself lugging the touchy drunkard all the way back to the castle. Thankfully you’d decided to dress nicer today, otherwise you’d feel even more out of place. The Red Keep was daunting, especially for those whom did not reside within the walls. The large, imposing nature was unsettling, imagining the silence at night was more than enough to remind you of your own bustling home. Thankfully you rarely dealt with silence due to your family.

With Aegon dumped into bed and snoozing away, you brushed your dress off and settled your hair since it was probably a mess. Aegon was much nicer company when he slept like a newborn babe. “Much more peaceful when he’s asleep no?” A laugh escaped you as you agreed with Aemonds words, “Definitely quieter, and less whiny.” Aemond’s eyebrow raised at your boldness, “I mean—,” It was his turn to laugh, or rather scoff. “Do not worry, I understood your meaning. It’s getting late outside, would you like to stay the night?”

Your throat closed in on nothing, choking on air at the proposition before you. A night, at the Red Keep, courtesy of Prince Aemond Targaryen. How many people could say that they’d received such a proposal?

“Oh I couldn’t impose my Prince.” Aemond turned towards the door as you stood still, did you stay still or did he assume you’d follow? “It’s not a problem at all, come Y/n.” You stared at the empty space he’d occupied moments ago before snapping out of the daze and running after him. He had to have recognised you if he knew your name right?

That night was, special, to say the least.

You’d somehow been roped into dinner with Aemond, Helaena, Aegon, Queen Alicent and the twins. Surprisingly, the Queen wasn’t irritated by your presence, rather welcoming.

“I do apologise for you having to see Prince Aegon in such a state. You did not have to aid Prince Aemond in returning him home but you did. The least we could do is grant you safety from the storm outside Y/n/n.” It was one thing for Aemond to know your name, but you’d never met the Queen.

The rain fell heavy and thunderous upon the ground, pelting against the glass windows. You’d always loved storms, the sound of rain and thunder alike brought comfort whereas your mother despised them.

Aemond didn’t mind them either, he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of the rain against his bare skin. It made him feel alive, so did you.

Whilst you may have only officially met him today, he’d had his eye on you. The first time being at another market with Helaena. She’d had a spurt of energy, and asked if she could view some insects or plants. Alicent thoroughly encouraged the idea of the people seeing Helaena, but of course not without guards.

Aemond said that he was more than enough, but Ser Criston and Ser Arryk came along for extra protection. At the market, Helaena had accidentally dropped a peach onto the floor. Before she had the time to even look at it, you immediately scooped it up before brushing it off, “There, brand new!” Helaena’s smile grew in response to yours, “Thank you.”

“Of course Princess.” With a quick nod and acknowledgment you left her to her own shopping. You didn’t press on or falter in her presence, but treated her normally. Your kindness wasn’t appreciated by others, nor common. At least in Aemonds eye.

Helaena was surprisingly happy afterwards and Aemond definitely noticed, “She was nice no?” He nodded in agreement to his sisters words since he found it better to agree to what she said than listen to her try and justify herself.

Helaena continued to stare at you whilst you negotiated prices with another vendor and she found her feet moving of their own accord towards you. “Hello.” Helaena waited your response as the vendor froze at their presence.

“Hi, are you alright my Princess?” She smiled, “Do you mind escorting me around? I don’t know the vendors too well.”

So you found yourself accompanying the Princess and Prince through the streets, to your surprise and relief it was easy to make conversation with her. She loved to speak about her hobbies whilst you were thoroughly impressed at her knowledge.

You made her feel heard, whereas most people dismissed her easily.

Aemond found you to be refreshing, not scared beyond relief to be meeting and speaking to them but rather calm and collected.

Dinner had been amazing of course, you expected nothing less of the Queen. But you’d hoped to have been leaving by now, your family was surely wondering where you were.

“I’ve already sent a messenger to inform them of your whereabouts. Helaena would like to offer you the position of being a hand maid to her, a companion.”

The room was silent, as you tried to find the words to reply. “That is, unbelievably generous of you to offer Prince Aemond. But I-, I’m not highborn. Why would you offer such a position to me?” Aemond leaned back in his chair and relaxed. Which contrasted the rigid spine you possessed. “Because I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll have to talk to my family—,”

Aemond raised his hand as you stopped talking, you could feel your heart beating. Had you said something wrong? “It’s not an offer or a question. You’ll start tomorrow, your given chambers are where you will reside for tonight. You’ll be moved to be near Helaena tomorrow. Rest now, a maid will collect you tomorrow.”

Working at the Red Keep was coveted in your opinion, there weren’t exactly a robust amount of opportunities for woman amongst Kings Landing. You should be grateful, yes, but the tone Aemond held with you was bone chilling. This wasn’t a proposition, it was a demand. And you were terrified of what could have happened had you not complied.

He swiftly left afterwards, leaving you to reel over the events of the day.

You’d left to get food for your brother’s birthday and were now practically imprisoned within the Red Keep.

The next day had your brain set on overdrive, about a million tons of information was thrown your way. When to wake up, what you’d be wearing, what you’d be doing, who you’d be following in the morning, who’d you be filling in for or relieving and when you were finally able to sleep.

Every other maid stared at you, unaware of the new help. As if it wasn’t uncomfortable enough, the Princess and Prince’s doing and favouritism was clear. On what day would Prince Aemond stop to check in with a hand maiden.

“I’ve heard you’ve been doing well.” Was he always this tall? You didn’t realise until now that you were practically looking up at him. “I hope I have. But I must let you go my Prince, Princess Helaena needs help dressing the Princes and Princess.” Aemond latched into your arm as you stood still again, “There’s no need for the formality Y/n. Helaena already has help, come with me.”

Deja Vu be damned, you found yourself in Aemond’s chambers. “Is there a spill? I can go fetch someone to clean if need be.”

Something about the way he was looking at you made you think that he didn’t need much. You’d seen that look before.

“Have you seen what life is for most here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to work for the rest of your life? Barely see your family?”

Was this a trick question? “I don’t know, it’s an honour to work here Prince Aemond.”

“Aemond. I told you to call me Aemond.”

“I did not mean to offend you, Aemond. But, your station is above me.”

“It doesn’t have to be. If I married you.” You laughed at the notion, but another glance at his deadpan expression had you biting your tongue. “Why would you marry me?”

“Because I can. I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of, your family would never have to worry ever again.” If you had a superpower, it’d be the ability to freeze. It was as if your feet were locked in place, unable to move as Aemond approached. His hand grazed your face as you closed your eyes.

“If you mean it, then yes. I would marry you.”

“You will.”

“I will.”

Your parents were overjoyed of course, a common-born daughter marrying a Targaryen prince. It was a rarity for anyone to infiltrate the reigning family without a dragon by your side or a large house and a hefty last name.

The feast was filled with laughter and love, the Smallfolk celebrated themselves, one of them marrying into the royal household.

The Smallfolk’s Princess, you’d heard them say.

But with Aemond’s hand on your back, guiding you? The wide smiles of the Queen, King and Princess weren’t enough to subdue the hollow feeling in your chest. Helaena grinned as she brung you back from the floor, “I’m so glad to have a sister.” She made you genuinely happy, at least someone could provide you solace.

“You look beautiful.” You turned to your Husband, a proud display across his face. “Thank you, Aemond.”

“Husband.”

“Of course, Husband.”

From seeing you for the first time to leading you to his chambers, your chambers, Aemond was relieved.

You were his, now and forever.

[embbarnes]

Cut Your Hair.

summary: You help Bucky cut his hair.

warnings: Comfort | Mentions PTSD & past trauma | Post!Endgame

a/n: I wanted to write a blurb exploring the emotions around his hair for fun. I imagine this time frame is after Endgame, you are living in his apartment in NY. I used a lot of symbolism because I love to include it in fics. Anywayy unedited, so ignore mistakes. wc: 2.3k

You returned to your apartment after a particularly fruitful grocery shopping trip, managing to get all the necessary items for your planned dinner. New York had been experiencing a notable shortage of certain food products recently, so you felt especially fortunate to have acquired all the ingredients on your list. The scarcity had made simple shopping trips feel like treasure hunts, with each found item a small victory.

As you entered the living space, your arms laden with bags full of your culinary prizes, you called out, "Bucky? I'm back!" Your voice carried a mix of excitement about your successful foraging and the slight strain of carrying multiple heavy bags. With a relieved huff, you practically dropped your burdens onto the kitchen counter, the plastic rustling as it settled. You looked forward to telling him of your success, but you hadn’t heard him reply.

The apartment remained eerily quiet in response to your call. The silence was unusual and slightly unsettling, given that Bucky was typically quick to greet you upon your return. Your brow furrowed in confusion and a hint of concern as you scanned the room, anxiety began to creep its way through your body while an assortment of negative thoughts flooded your mind. "Bucky?" you called out again, your voice tinged with a note of uncertainty.

Still, nothing.

Now you started to worry.

You cautiously maneuvered around the counter, your footsteps deliberately quiet as you navigated through the dimly lit living space. The short hallway stretched before you, leading to the bathroom and one of the bedrooms. Your heart raced with each step, the silence of the apartment amplifying every small sound. As you approached, a sliver of light caught your eye - the bathroom door was slightly ajar, a warm glow spilling out into the darkened corridor. A wave of relief washed over you, causing your tense muscles to relax ever so slightly. You exhaled deeply, your hand instinctively moving to your chest as if to calm your pounding heart.

"Bucky," you called out, your voice a mixture of relief and lingering apprehension, "Shit... you really scared me there." The words hung in the air, met only by an eerie silence. Seconds ticked by, and still, there was no response from behind the partially open door. A creeping sense of unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you stood there, waiting for a reply that didn't come.

"James?" Your voice quivered with concern as you gently rapped your knuckles against the door. Hesitantly, you pushed it open, the hinges creaking softly. The sight that greeted you made your heart ache in your chest. There he stood, hunched over the bathroom sink, his posture a blatant portrait of distress. His hands, knuckles white with tension, gripped the edges of the ceramic basin as if it were a lifeline. You worried his metal hand would break the fragile ceramic but it looked like he had more self control for the moment. Bucky's head hung low, curtained by the long strands of his hair that fell forward, obscuring his face from view. The absence of his shirt revealed the taut muscles of his back, adorned with long scars, each one rigid and fairly faded, but still there.

No matter what he did to try to scrap them away, they were still there.

Your eyes were drawn to his hair, the ends were jagged and uneven, as though hacked at in a moment of impulse or desperation. Littering the bottom of the sink were the casualties of this impromptu haircut: dark locks intermingled with the gleam of small fabric scissors, splayed against the white porcelain. The air hung heavy with an unspoken tension, leaving you frozen in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed.

"Bucky...what did you do?" You inquired softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand moved with cautious deliberation, gently alighting on his shoulder. The moment your fingers made contact, you felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, a reflexive response to the unexpected contact. However, within seconds, the tension melted away as he seemed to recognize you.

Silence hung heavy in the air for what felt like an eternity. Bucky remained motionless, his gaze fixed downward, avoiding eye contact, but eventually he lifted his head ever so slightly. His icy eyes, brimming with an unspoken emotion, met yours in the reflection of the mirror before you. He looked so distressed, his face splotchy and flushed with an angry red, eyes were puffy and swollen from the tears had been running down his face before you came in. His bottom lip protruded slightly in a dejected pout, completing the picture of a man clearly grappling with some internal turmoil.

"What happened?" You prompted again, you kept your voice low and patient. Your words came out as a soothing murmur, not wanting to cause any distress to him, since he was clearly struggling. You felt his body tremble under your hand, your heart broke seeing him like this.

"Don't..." he began, his voice trembling with apprehension. He paused, swallowing hard as if to gather courage before continuing, "Don't be mad..." The words escaped his lips in a barely audible whisper, laden with fear. His entire demeanor spoke volumes, suggesting he was terrified of your potential reaction to something he had done or was about to reveal.

You felt your brow furrow involuntarily as you processed his words, your eyes instinctively seeking out his face once more. The fear etched across his features only deepened your concern.

"Why would I be angry?" you asked, your tone soft and reassuring. "You haven't done anything." Your words were meant to soothe, to dispel the cloud of anxiety that seemed to envelop him. However, your attempt at comfort appeared to have little effect.

He shook his head vigorously in response, the sudden movement causing several stray locks of hair to cascade from his head, pieces he had evidently cut himself - some still clinging stubbornly to his remaining hair.

"Because you cut your hair?" you asked, your voice a mixture of concern and curiosity. The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.

He nodded weakly, sniffling to clear his nose. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes about his emotional state. You sighed softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet room. You reached up and ran your fingers through his still long, but much shorter locks, noting how they now only reached his jaw in some spots, and past his shoulders in others. The texture was different, unfamiliar from the choppy cuts he gave to his hair, clearly indicating his anger towards it.

"You've let it grow out a bit," you observed, your tone careful and neutral. Your fingers continued their soothing motion, offering comfort without words. After a moment of contemplation, you spoke again, your voice soft and reassuring. "I'm not mad, you know. It’s your body, you can do whatever you want with yourself, remember?" You paused, considering your next words carefully. "Do you want some help with it? Maybe we could style it together, find a look you really love, instead of letting you stay like this."

He remained silent for a beat, contemplating your words with a furrowed brow. The weight of his long, unkempt hair seemed to press down on him, both physically and emotionally. An overwhelming desire to rid himself of this burden consumed his thoughts. He yearned to feel the liberating sensation of shorter hair, to shed the heaviness that had settled upon him like a thick, suffocating blanket. In his mind, cutting his hair felt liberating. He had been stripped of all bodily autonomy for so long, this was something he wanted to do. For himself.

His head inclined, giving a sharp nod. "Yes...yes, please..." he replied with a soft rasp, "Cut it all."

You were certainly no professional hairdresser, but with the assistance of a few hastily searched tutorial videos on YouTube, you managed to grasp the basic concepts and techniques. The shorter hairstyle he wanted alleviated a lot of pressure you had to make it perfect, so a quick cut and shave would be easy compared to any sort of specific styling. As he settled into the chair you pulled into the bathroom, you grabbed the scissors and let out a deep breath to calm yourself.

Carefully, you began the process of trimming away at his dark, lustrous locks, cutting the long pieces away with scissors first before you'd clean it with a buzzer. Each calculated snip was made carefully, regularly checking in with him to make sure he was still doing fine. You found yourself completely engrossed in the task, paying close attention to maintain an even trim.

The freshly cut strands danced through the air for a brief moment before gently descending to the cool tile floor of the bathroom. Upon contact with the ground, the severed locks curled and twisted, creating an abstract pattern around his feet. The contrast of the dark hair against the light-colored tiles made your heart throb, the meaning behind cutting his hair away was much deeper than any outside eye could comprehend.

You didn't notice his tears at first, but as more of his hair fell away, the evidence of his emotional turmoil became undeniable. His shoulders quivered beneath the weight of his feelings, the internal struggle becoming more visible to you. You maintained your composure, focusing on the task at hand, your fingers steady as they continued to work through his locks. Dark tear trails etched paths down his cheeks, struggling with handling it all on his own.

When you finally reached for the electric clippers, the soft click as you turned them on echoed in the silence of the bathroom. He closed his eyes then, a gesture of surrender or perhaps trust, allowing you to proceed with this final, most drastic stage of the cut. The gentle vibration of the buzzer filled the air, a constant, reassuring hum that seemed to ground you both in the present moment. Bucky gave the occasional sniffle, the emotional undertones of this act filled both of you.

With a final buzz, you switched off the clippers and gently placed them in the sink. Your fingers glided through his freshly trimmed hair, feeling the soft, short strands beneath your touch. The cut was perfect - a smile played on your lips as you admired your handiwork, you were proud of yourself. "Wow..." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, "You look just like that old photograph I have of you. It's like stepping back in time." Your words were soft and full of gentle admiration. Softly, you encouraged him to open his eyes, eager to see his reaction to his new look.

"What do you think, sergeant?" you asked, your voice tinged with anticipation as you waited for him to fully take in his reflection. As he gazed into the mirror, a profound sense of unfamiliarity washed over him. The face staring back was simultaneously familiar and foreign, he didn’t react like you expected but honestly…what did you expect? He looked disoriented and unsettled by his own reflection.

It felt so... strange, almost surreal. The sensation was akin to looking at a photograph of a long-lost relative, recognizing traces of familiarity but ultimately confronting the reality of a stranger. It felt like he were dreaming, seeing a resemblance of the man he once was - a version of himself that now seemed to belong to a distant, unreachable past.

The realization that this former self was now forever out of reach hit him with unexpected force. He knew he’d never be the person he was again, but seeing himself like this just…felt so sudden. Bucky felt the sick twinge of grief, as if he just lost a dear friend or a beloved family member, but the person he was mourning was his former self.

He had once cherished his former self, but that version of Bucky had long since vanished. HYDRA, black tendrils wrapped around him with its insidious grasp, had extinguished his essence, snuffing out his very being like a feeble, flickering ember desperately clinging to life in the face of an unforgiving winter storm.

Bucky found himself irrevocably altered. No longer was he the vibrant, spirited individual of his past, now reduced to nothing more than a charred remnant of his former self - a piece of blackened charcoal, devoid of the warmth and light that had once defined him. The flames of his identity, once burning bright with passion and purpose, had been mercilessly extinguished, leaving behind only the cold, lifeless ashes of who he used to be.

The cold consumed him, trapping him in a relentless, chilling embrace. Cryo never truly left him, the sensation continued to maintain its icy hold on him, refusing to let go. But, you...you were what he needed more than anything else in the world. You taught him what it was like to have a gentle touch, to be loved and cared for no matter what he did in his past.

You were patient.

You were loving.

You were nurturing.

You helped him throughout his long and dreary recovery, standing by his side throughout every visit to the doctor or hospital, the endless nights where he couldn’t sleep, the panic attacks that left his throat raw and eyes burning. When the days seemed darkest for him, you were there to thaw the ice that had frozen him for so long.

Winter slowly began to surrender to the bloom of spring, and you were the greatest force of nature he knew.

Bucky's voice emerged as a soft whisper after several minutes spent silently staring at his reflection in the mirror, the steady stream of tears cascading down his face had been completely unnoticed to him. You gently wiped the tears away, your thumbs tenderly brushing against his cheekbones as you dried them with care and affection.

“It’s perfect..”

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Cover images from Pinterest

[wileys-russo]

jenni hermoso, ”please let me do it”, restaurant or a bar (date night)

please let me do it II j.hermoso

"guapa we are running so late!" your girlfriend impatiently moaned from the bottom of the stairs, swinging her keys around on her finger with a jingle and tapping her foot.

you rolled your eyes at her words, fixing your hair and looking yourself over with a happy nod, grabbing your bag and with another roll of your eyes jenni's phone which she'd left on charge.

"no we're not mi amor, the reservation is for seven thirty." you smiled as you descended down the stairs, holding up her phone as her eyes widened momentarily and she grabbed it off you.

"hey wait you told me seven!" the footballer realised with a frown as you glided past her with a chuckle. "i did, so you'd be ready by seven thirty." you grinned over your shoulder as she scoffed.

"me? so that i would be ready in time? who was i just waiting on then!" jenni crossed her arms with a huff and a quirked eyebrow as you chugged a glass of water.

"you weren't waiting because we're not late." you smiled, rinsing out your glass and stacking it in the dishwasher, kicking it closed and grabbing your bag.

"princesa that does not even make sense!" jenni threw her hands up as your smile only widened, plucking the keys from her hands as she stared at you in disbelief.

"vamos hermoso, or else we will be late." you jingled her keys teasingly as you walked backwards toward the front door. "oh you are so-" she trailed off with a snicker and a shake of her head, racing after you as you opened the front door.

~

"what are you thinking mi amor?" you glanced up from the menu to meet your girlfriends eyes. "what are you thinking?" you asked with a knowing smile, the grin which met it only confirming your suspicions.

“i am thinking i cannot decide so we should share.” jenni wiggled her eyebrows as you rolled your eyes playfully, you knew all too well what that meant.

“so i am thinking that means you want to pick both dishes and then eat most of them, and i just get the leftovers or what you cannot finish?” you teased as the brunette gasped clutching at her chest.

“princesa you make me sound so unromantic.” jenni tutted as you shook your head. “we’ve been together long enough for me to know all your tricks baby, and all about that bottomless pit you call a stomach.” you laughed softly, eyes raking again over the menu.

“order the two you want and i pick the entree?” you suggested as jenni sighed happily. “mi amor what would i do without you?” she reached across the table to take your hand.

“starve probably.” you winked as the older girl chuckled and poured you both another glass of wine.

“what?” your girlfriend asked, mouthful of food and eyebrow raised as you stared on in disgust. “you do know cariño the restaurant doesn’t close for another two hours, and this is not an eating contest.” you teased, corners of your mouth curving upward.

“i had training today i am hungry!” the brunette again spoke with a mouthful as you shook your head. “swallow then speak!” you warned sipping at your wine.

“well, you are the expert on that right bebita?” jenni purred as you choked, hand coming up to grab the few drops of wine which fell from your mouth.

“shut up and eat your food idiota.” you warned once you’d recovered, tattooed fingers tracing up your arm as you pushed them away with a sigh.

“another one?” you questioned as poured herself a second glass of wine, still more than able to drive though it was rare mid week for her to drink very much at all.

“sí mi preciosa, we are celebrating!” jenni raised her glass and waved for you to do the same as you did so curiously with a raised eyebrow.

but catching the look in her eyes, that mischievous twinkle you knew all too well, and the cheeky grin which shone at you across the table, you knew you were in trouble.

“jenni you didn’t, por favor.” you lowered your glass but not before she clinked hers against it. “you already know i did.” she winked and not even moments later the lights dimmed slightly and seeing a candle head your way you wished the ground would swallow you up.

you winced waiting for the singing but it never came, the cupcake left in the middle of your table as the waiter gave you both a kind smile.

“in honour of your wedding anniversary, the wine is on the house tonight.” he informed with a nod, jenni thanking him as he took off, a few of the couples nearby congratulating you both with raised glasses as you smiled awkwardly and jenni made her toasts with them one by one.

“smile princesa, you have such a pretty smile. just like you smiled at me at our wedding! oh i remember it like it was yesterday.” jenni sighed happily as you shot her a glare.

“was it in your head? considering we’re not even engaged!” the midfielder hissed as you kicked her shin with your heel. “you need to stop telling places it’s our wedding anniversary for free desert!” you shook your head in disbelief as jenni rubbed her ankle with a smile.

“i didn’t!” jenni protested as you scoffed and gestured to the cupcake in the middle of the table.

“i did it for free desert and free wine, i was angling for free dinner but you win some you lose some!”

~

“you really are unbelievable.” you bit back a smile as your girlfriend danced her way through the parking lot toward her car in an attempt to make you laugh, waving around the takeout box with the cupcake inside.

“unbelievably…sexy? talented? fast? strong?” she stopped in front of you, making muscles and pulling faces as you shoved at her chest.

“more like annoying, stubborn, arrogant-“ you started to list off on your fingers as she gasped. “jenni, no!” you warned, backing away as she cracked open the takeout box with an evil smile.

“please let me do it, vamos princesa.” jenni advanced on you, your back hitting her car as she grinned wickedly and stopped with her chest pressed against yours, slowly grabbing out the cupcake.

“please mi amor please no!” you begged with pleading eyes as her taller body caged you in. “okay cari.” you relaxed at those words, the cupcake lowered as you smiled and leaned in to peck her lips.

“just tell me one thing?” you nodded and waited for what she had to say, only it never came as the cake was suddenly smashed into the side of your face, your girlfriend tossing the wrapper over her shoulder as you gasped in shock.

“does it taste as good as it looks princesa?”

[monzamash]

pit in my stomach - lando norris

rating – mature (cheating, language, sexual references) requested by @landograndprix - hugging you tight, my friend!

it was hard to pin point the moment his love for you had been diminished by his crippling guilt or when you knew there was nothing he could say or do to piece you back together. maybe it was around the time you’d asked him point blank whether he saw you in his future and he stuttered over his truth with an unconvincing of course i do when the dagger had already been deployed into your unsuspecting back. naively blinded by love.

or maybe it was the night lando stumbled home from the local, half a pint of slushing lager still in his hand while the other held a small, black velvet box. he dropped down on one knee, eyes bloodshot with tears and a trembling bottom lip – a stark contrast to your hardened stare and crossed arms shielding you from the blow, physically and emotionally spent.

“i fucked up… i-god i hate that i've hurt you, baby and i wish i could take it all back – i fucked up so bad and i’m so sorry.”

“you didn’t fuck up, lando – you fucked someone else for six months and lied to my face and made me feel like i was losing my mind! do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused?”

the room fell silent, boiling blood pumping in your ears.

“huh?! do you?”

“no–”

“no you don’t! i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you and all you’ve done is let me down and made me look like a fucking idiot! everyone knew about her, about what you were doing behind my back and you knew it was wrong but you couldn’t stop! you’re a monster and i’m not going to cry over a mistake you made…"

sadness welled as you stared down at the man kneeling at your feet. he was a stranger who only resembled the man you loved in appearance, not in honour or integrity or character – you were grieving the lando who had showed you the world with so much love and adoration and hope.

"you will have to live with this mistake for the rest of your life.”

“you’re right. i will never forgive myself 'cause she meant nothing and i have to fix this – i need to fix this because i love you.. so much. i’ll get help, i’ll see someone just give me a chance to fix it…”

“do you really think that is going to fix it?”

you pointed to the dainty box that held so much weight. in a way it represented a future founded on four years of memories, of something resembling happiness. sure, there had been disappointments, hundreds of missed calls, a few missed anniversaries and your gnawing intuition saying that maybe the paranoia wasn’t just inside your head. but ending like this, in betrayal and heartache – you hadn’t seen that one coming.

lando swallowed the lump forming in his throat, queasy from the drunken stupor he’d drank himself into and the dread settling in the pit of his empty stomach, “thought it might be start…”

a strained laugh slipped from pursed lips as venom coated your sharpened tongue, “and that is how i know you will never change.”

“please,” lando scrambled to his feet and reached out for your hand in an attempt to stop you from walking away, “please don’t leave me…” he begged, voice barely above a whisper.

lando knew he would never forget the look in your eyes when you slowly turned back to him – they were cold and punishing, bone-chilling. they swirled with the web of lies and sorrow that he had inflicted upon the person he loved the most in the world, who had given him everything she had, who loved him unconditionally, which made it nearly impossible to accept that he had lost you.

“you left me six months ago when you slept with her, lando.”

more writing...

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Shameless

Warning ⚠️; internalized homophobia, Homelander is his own warning, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, fluff. 🔞

Pairing; Bottom!Homelander/Top!Male!Reader

Summary; John and you are two opposites. He is a comedian and a liar, you are bluntly honest and direct. He cares about his image, you don't. He is ashamed of your relationship while you are shameless.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on the sofa sipping at your drink, eyes staring at John with amusement. Still in his costume, your lover walked in circle while biting his nail. He looked ridiculous in your eyes. All those fake muscles and the cape were too much. He looked always better naked, natural, and not so fake.

- “You are going to get yourself dizzy, my love. Just get out of those ridiculous clothes and come sit with me.” You said, waving your hand to show his costume. “We have so little time together, I would prefer having you by my side than whatever you are doing right now.”

John stared at you, eyes glowing red and you just laughed at him. You weren't scared, never was, because John couldn't kill you. No one could. It was part of your power, your curse, but in a moment like this, it was a blessing. Watching your lover get worked up for nothing was funny.

- “How can you laugh in such a situation?” John asked, voice hissing at you as you rolled your eyes. “Its a disaster! I cannot be seen like… like…”

- “Like the man you truly are?” You finished his sentence, sighing. “John, no one cares about that picture. Everyone will call it fake and those who don't, well who cares? Just discredit them and forget about it.”

John said nothing and looked away, his eyes back to normal. You shook your head as he kept walking around the room, trying to find a solution. You didn't understand him. Why come to you when you couldn't help when you were the source of this situation? Well, you weren't fully responsible. It wasn't you who had decided to kiss on a rooftop where anyone could see, that had been John.

And now there was a picture of you two kissing, your hands squeezing Homelander’s ass, circulating around the internet. It was, for you, hilarious. For John? The end of the world was happening.

- “Can't you stop being overly dramatic for five minutes?” You asked, harsher than you wanted.

You gasped in surprise as the back of your head hit the floor, hard, making you see stars. John had pined you down after knocking over the sofa and sat on you. You shivered, licking your lips as you plunged your gaze into his glowing one.

- “And can't you take it seriously for once? Don't you realize how serious the situation is for me? I am supposed to be perfect with no weaknesses and I can not be seen like that with another man.” John spat, his hand grabbing your chin painfully tight.

- “But you are not perfect John and you'll never be!” You replied with a sneer.

It was the wrong answer because next thing you knew John punched you and pain exploded in your jaw. Blood splashed all over your lover and you as your jaw hit the wall and fell onto the ground. From anger, John expression turned to horror as he realized what he had done. From amused, you became enraged.

You didn't gave John any chance and kicked him in the chest, sending the sup flying against the ceiling. You watched your lover fall loudly on the ground as you got up, spilling blood all over the place. You closed your eyes, pain swallowing you up as nerves, bones and everything else slowly regrew. Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you felt like your lower jaw was burning in the fiery pits of Hell.

You heard John begging, swearing he didn't mean to hurt you like that and you didn't care. What mattered was how he still did it.

You opened your eyes staring angrily at the hero still lying on the ground. You walked up to him and saw John tensing and closing on himself before you grabbed the man by the collar. Without a word, you back-slapped like he was a bitch, splitting open his lip before grabbing his jaw like he did to you. You leaned down until your nose brushed his.

- “Listen here you pathetic excuse of a man; you are nothing. You are not a hero, you are not perfect and you are not an inspiration. The only thing you are is a childish man who can't take no for an answer and can't live without the approval of the world.” Your words hit home as you saw tears building up in John’s eyes and you sneered again. “You are pathetic. Truly pathetic. The world loves the fake image of you and would turn on you at the first opportunity. Their love is conditional unlike mine and yet you chose those worms over me. I who had always been here for you no matter what. I who helped you bond with your bastard son and helped you when no one wanted to. I bloodied my hands for you! And after everything that how you thank me?”

Venom filled your words as you stared at your lover. John was silently crying and looked away, not daring to look at you. You felt betrayed, and humiliated. You did so much for that man child and he turned against you so easily. You didn't want to see him anymore, wanted him gone from your sight.

- “Think about it John. Who will take care of you when you are old and your body is betraying you? Who will be there for you when the world cheer for a younger and more attractive hero? Them? Your so-called fans? No. They won't, but I would have.” You said, turning your back to him as you walked away. “Now get out.”

- “I’m sorry! I didn't…” John tried but stopped as you turned your head, eyes filled with anger.

- “GET OUT.” You snarled.

And just like that John was gone. A soft breeze caressed your face after he flew away. Sighing, you cleaned the room and threw away your jaw. The pain still lingered and you massaged your chin before sighing. You hated fighting with John like that, but recently it was every other day. The more time passed the more he became unhinged and impulsive. You could barely recognize the man who sought love and attention, the man who melted under your hands at night seemed gone.

It was late that night when John came back. He didn't call, didn't text. He just showed up. You were in bed reading a book in the light of a candle when you heard your front door opening. Only John had a spare so you knew it was him.

He didn't come up directly and you ignored him. You were still angry at his stunt and, frankly, didn't wish to see him. Not right now, not tomorrow. But there he was, walking into your home as if it was his.

After a few minutes, you heard John walking up the stairs and coming toward your room. You didn't look up when he entered nor when he called your name with a timid and soft voice. Instead you clenched your book harder.

- “I thought I told you to get the fuck out of my house, John. What are you doing here?” You asked, voice cold as you turned the page of your book.

Your lover didn't answer. Instead, John approached the bed and put down a mix of things; a gift basket filled with your favorite snacks and drinks and another full of books. Sighing, you closed your book and turned your attention on John.

There he stood in civilian clothes and his head low. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying. Had you not been angry at him you would have hugged John. But you were still pissed off.

- “I am so sorry for what I did and said.” John whispered, looking away as he sat on the edge of the mattress. “I have no excuses and you are right. You've always been there for me and you didn't deserve any of this, but I did.”

You could see tears in his eyes and the sight was almost pitiful. Of course, John couldn't live up with what he did and would regret his actions. You didn't. The brat had deserved your words and hands.

- “I don't want… I can not lose you…” John whispered so low that you barely heard it.

You sighed and leaned back against your pillows, crossing your arms and studying him. John was clearly remorseful and you knew he had his lesson, for now at least. Shaking your head you gently tapped the mattress next to you and John didn't wait to lay down. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face against your chest. You brushed his blond hair with your fingers, heart almost getting softer as you saw how happy he was now.

- “You are losing me, John. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you, but stop it. I don't have the patience to deal with your childish tantrum just because a picture of us leaked on the internet. We are celebrities, it's going to keep happening.” You said and your lover held you tighter. “Hush now. I forgive you this time, but I might not give you another chance.”

John nodded and didn't let go. You kept brushing his hair and let your fingers down his neck. He was cold, colder than normal and you could feel his heartbeat racing. He was scared and terrified which pleased you. Maybe he wouldn't go against you anymore, maybe he would stop thinking he could do as he wished.

After all, he was your pet, yours to use as you wished and you couldn't have a bad dog by your side. As much as you loved John, you didn't want him if he was to lose his mind and become a liability. But at that moment he looked so small and delicate in your arms, almost broken and you couldn't resist him.

You smiled as you felt his body relax against you as he slowly fell asleep. Maybe you could use his fear and remorse against him. Maybe you could force him to come clean about your relationship. Not now, the fight was still too fresh but soon enough he might give in. And once you were out to the world, John would truly be yours entirely.

[squinch-depraved]

hiii friends i'm back here's around 7k words (i think??) for y'all this one goes out to my homie 🐏 anon i love u 🐏 anon

CW: dubcon/cnc, bdsm, facefucking, breeding kink

looking out of the hotel window made you no less uneasy. you sat there for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, staring out at the city. japan was beautiful, just like your boss had said it would be, but you were far from home, and he had whisked you away on this trip so suddenly that you didn’t have time to pack much. you were unusually tired, having only been taken on trips by schlatt in the u.s., so the massive time difference and, to be honest, this extra workload he was expecting you to shoulder, were leaving you stressed and irritable.

you snapped when someone knocked on the solid hotel door, yelling at them to “shut the fuck up!” when they continued knocking impatiently while you made your way to open it. your face flushed a deep red when you saw schlatt standing there, holding a suitcase.

“that’s a dangerous thing to be yelling at someone you don’t know in a foreign country,” he teased. “what if i was, like the cleaning lady, or something?”

“yeah, well… you’re not,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “what d’you need?”

he holds out the suitcase. “brought you stuff. not much, just some basics. i’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

you raised a brow at his words. “why take me shopping?”

he didn't speak until you took the suitcase from him. “’cause i feel bad for not letting you pack your shit.”

you nodded and gestured for him to come in. “can you help? i can't figure out how to close the blinds.”

he hesitated before following you in, letting the door fall shut behind him as he walked further into the lavish room he had booked for you. it was more expensive than the rooms the rest of the staff he brought with him got, but you didn't need to know that.

watching as you gestured broadly at the giant window, he chuckled and pulled a remote off the wall. he showed you which buttons to press to make a large shade come down from the ceiling and tried not to mock you when you huffed, annoyed. it was darker in the room now, the lights of the city no longer helping the dim lights on the walls to illuminate your room. you flicked on the lamps on either side of your bed and turned to face your employer once more.

“thanks,” you said, able to see his face more easily. he nodded as if he was unsure of what to say and started heading towards the door.

“i’ll be by to pick you up at 9,” he spoke. “we’ll get you some stuff and, uh… yeah, it’ll be. it’ll be fun.” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and you smiled softly at how sweet he sounded before catching a glimpse of the current time from the alarm clock on your nightstand. it was already almost 2 in the morning, and that gave you five, maybe six hours to sleep, and then you had to wake up and get ready. luckily you had forgotten all your stuff and had nothing to actually take forever getting ready with.

“bye, schlatt,” you called as he waved his hand and shut the heavy door behind him. once he was gone, you flopped face first onto the bed and screamed, trying your best to ignore whatever feelings were bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. after letting out your frustrations into a pillow, you stood up to unpack the mysterious suitcase.

unzipping it revealed a few t-shirts in various sizes, all old schlatt merch, a pair of luxury sweatpants that you didn’t even want to attempt to guess the price of, a few pairs of the softest socks you had ever felt, a toothbrush and toothpaste, some deodorant, shower supplies, a hairbrush and enough hair ties to last you a year, and a pair of slippers. a hoodie that you were sure was schlatt’s, due to its massive size and it smelling of him, was laid neatly on the bottom, as if whoever packed this was trying to hide it. you picked it up and brought it to your face, inhaling deeply and moaning into it softly. a small, pink, tissue wrapped package fell out of the hoodie when you unfolded it to slip it on.

puzzled, you set the hoodie down and carefully grabbed the parcel, undoing the delicate sticker keeping it sealed. when you fully unwrapped it, you were faced with several different pairs of lacy black panties, a few pairs of each different style so you could wear whatever you found comfortable. your stomach flipped at the thought of your boss carefully picking out all these pairs for you, and the notion of him picturing all of these on you while he shopped was something you would go over and over in your mind forever. but you pushed the thoughts away when you remembered he probably had people do this for him. he was a busy man, you doubted he’d care enough about this to put it all together himself. you had already forgotten that he was the one to bring you the luggage, let alone him bringing it to you in the middle of the night.

you set to work unpacking your new stuff, placing your toiletries in the bathroom and stripping yourself of your dirty clothes that you had been in for far too long. once you were naked, you took a relaxing shower with the supplies schlatt had given you, dressing yourself in just a pair of panties and his hoodie when you were clean and dry. you didn’t remember crawling into bed and falling asleep, but you swore you never slept as good as you did that night.

schlatt knocked on your door for minutes, giving you what he thought was ample time to answer. once he pressed his ear to the door and heard your alarm still going off, though, he cursed under his breath and dug into his wallet for a key.

he vowed he wouldn’t use it. he only had it in case of an emergency, he told himself. he knew he was already pushing his luck with everything he had planned for you this trip, sneaking into your room might be too much. but he couldn’t stop himself, he needed to get you up and going for the day so the whole trip wouldn’t be too off schedule.

the sight he saw when he walked in left him breathless. you were spread out in the middle of the bed, his hoodie riding up on your stomach and exposing your bare tummy, lacy black panties hugging your hips perfectly. you were knocked out, evident by the alarm blaring next to you for who knows how long.

he sighed deeply and shook your arm until you woke up in a panic, kicking violently at the presumed threat until you realized it was just him. you babbled something incoherently until you looked at the clock and your face dropped; you sprung up to get dressed, apologizing profusely.

“i’m so sorry, schlatt!” you called through the closed bathroom door. he just sat on the bed, scrolling on his phone, until you came out. dressed in his hoodie still and the expensive sweatpants, you grabbed your essentials and nodded curtly. “i’m ready. let’s go,” you stated.

“wow, and only 30 minutes behind schedule,” he teased. you glared at him and he stood up, leading you out of the room, out of the hotel, and into the shopping districts.

being out in the city with him was actually really nice; you originally thought he was going to bring more staff along, but it appeared it was just the two of you for the day. you tried not to think about how, to people watching, it might look like the two of you were together. it was hard not to ruminate on it over and over in your mind, how, if the situation were just slightly different, maybe it could’ve been a date. the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

he stopped once the two of you reached a wide street lined with tall buildings, each a different, massive store. looking around and inspecting their signage didn’t help, you didn’t know what any of them sold.

“pick one,” he said simply.

you looked up at him, confused. “i don’t know what the fuck any of these are,” you whispered rather loudly.

a smile played at his lips, but his face remained stern. “that’s the point, toots,” he replied. “pick one and find out.”

you squinted at him, shaking your head slightly before looking at your many options. “that one, i guess?” you gestured broadly to one a short distance away.

schlatt shook his head. “lead me to it.”

you rolled your eyes and used this as an excuse to grab his hand, turning away and hiding your burning face from him as you dragged him towards the store.

you walked in hurriedly, him trailing behind you at a much easier pace due to his long legs. once you took in your surroundings, you found you were actually quite excited. it was a massive clothing outlet, floors upon floors of all different kinds of garments. holding tightly onto his hand, you only looked around for a few seconds before you beelined it to a display of outfits and began hunting for articles of clothing you wanted.

schlatt dropped your hand and walked away, leaving you alone for a bit while you browsed before coming back with a large basket. he held onto it while you picked through your options, holding it out to you whenever you found something you wanted. into the basket went anything he even thought you liked, and you quickly realized there was no spending limit like you had presumed. you were always eyeing him warily, ready for the piece you had just picked out to be the last. but he just kept telling you to keep going, and soon you had looked through the whole section. he simply waited for you to pick another area to explore and watched as you shopped, occasionally commenting on a top or pair of pants.

“that one’s cute,” he mumbled when you held up a shirt you liked. you nodded and slipped the hanger over your neck, allowing you to pretend to try it on. he tried not to think about the idea of you actually trying the clothes on, but the image of you stripping and redressing over and over remained in his mind.

hours flew by, and you ended up leaving with several huge bags stuffed full with an entire new wardrobe. the two of you joked around a bit as you exited the store, and you were surprised to find one of your coworkers waiting for you just outside the shop.

“give ‘em your stuff,” schlatt instructed. “they’re gonna take it to your room for you so we can keep shopping.”

you blinked a few times, confused, and handed off the bags. your coworker spoke to schlatt for a few minutes and then left you alone with him again. it was quiet for a bit before your boss broke the silence.

“time to pick another store,” he said.

you huffed in disbelief at his willingness to spend even more money on you and shook your head. “i don’t wanna play another guessing game; i got lucky with that last one. can you just point me to a makeup store and we can pretend that i found it?”

he chuckled and scanned the street you were on, eyes settling on a purple building towards the end of the road. “that one might be makeup,” he said, looking back at you.

“alright then, let’s do that one.” you took his hand once more and led him to the shop, repeating the process of putting anything you wanted into a basket and waiting for him to tell you to stop. he never did, in fact, he occasionally tossed in a product or two that he thought was nice.

after a bit, you turned around to find he was a short distance away, picking out stuff at the perfume counter for you. you smiled to yourself and walked over to him, smelling the ones he was trying to decide between.

“i like this one,” you stated, pointing to a bottle on the counter.

he nodded and turned to the attendant, conversing with her for a bit before taking a fancy looking box that she handed him, presumably with the scent you picked out inside. he set it gently into the nearly full basket and looked at you.

“anything else while we’re here?” he asked, glancing down at the pile of things resting in the tote he was carrying.

with a shake of your head, you responded, “no, this is already too much, schlatt.”

you weren’t looking at him, it was hard to meet his gaze, but you heard him scoff. “i’ll tell you when it’s too much, doll, don’t you worry about that.”

your cheeks flushed, how spoiled you felt by his kindness visible on your face. “i feel really bad. this is all so expensive.”

his hand landed on your shoulder in a soft, reassuring pat. “you deserve it. c’mon, lemme go pay and then i’ll take you to one more store.”

following him to through the store was rough, he walked fast and you almost lost him a few times. but you found him easily at the checkout counter due to how tall he was; his head stood out above all the aisles. you sidled up next to him as he swiped his card, wincing at the price visible on the screen. he flicked his dark eyes over to you- the ghost of a smile was playing at his lips as he took in how uncomfortable being treated like this made you.

and then you were back on the busy street, handing the bags to the same coworker and waving bye to them as they walked off in the direction of the hotel once more. checking your phone told you it was early afternoon at this point. and he still wanted to hit another store… was he going to waste an entire day on you?

“i’ll give you some options, toots,” he said gruffly after instructing you to put your phone away. the orders from him churned something deep in your stomach. “that blue one there, this one next door to us, or that one way over there. you see the one i’m talkin’ about?” he pointed to three stores and turned to you, awaiting your response.

you thought for a moment before choosing, and it ended up being a store full of things you didn’t necessarily need, but trinkets and gadgets you loved. your cart wasn’t as full at this store, but he still bought you anything you showed interest in and you walked out with even more bags. this time, no one was waiting for you, and schlatt took your hand before leading you to a small restaurant shoved in between two large buildings. you followed him, trusting he would keep you safe, but unsure of where you were going until he sat you down in a booth and ordered food for the both of you.

you talked for a long time, savoring your meal together and sharing sentiments and memories, and you didn’t notice until he had to step out to take a call that it was almost two hours later. something about him was so comforting, intoxicating, even. he just made you feel safe. you wished the dynamic between you two could be different. why did he have to be a good boss and not one of the creepy ones? you wished he would prey on you like you so desperately wanted him to.

he came back to find you staring at the leftover bites of food on your plate, instantly worried something had happened in the short time he was away from you. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you tried not to let how hot he sounded when he was concerned about you affect your answer.

“yeah, no, i’m fine, schlatt,” you assured him once you blinked repeatedly a few times, trying to clear your thoughts of the filthy images of him. “just, still jet lagged. i’m really tired.”

your boss nodded and went to take care of the bill quickly, sharing a quick conversation with the workers before coming back to you and offering a hand to help you up. you grabbed your bags and took his hand, forgetting to let go once you were up and walking. he didn’t seem to mind.

the gentleman that he is, schlatt took you back to your hotel room and leaned against the wall as you fished your key out of your pockets. once you found it, he stood up straight and took a deep breath.

“take a good nap. i’ll be back to pick you up for dinner.”

you eyed him suspiciously, hand frozen, outreached to swipe your keycard. “why dinner? why more? what did i do to deserve this?” you grilled him.

schlatt put up his hands innocently. “i just feel bad for not letting you pack,” he lied again. “and you’re one of my best staff, why can’t i treat you?”

“because you don’t do this for anyone else,” you groaned. “i’m just worried the rest of ‘em are gonna look at me weird.”

he shook his head, trying not to smile. “i’ll fire whoever treats you differently. promise,” he extended his pinkie towards you.

“no, schlatt, that’s the problem!” you sighed. his face remained the same, little finger still reaching out to make a deal, and you folded. “whatever, i’m gonna go sleep, just… don’t fire anyone because of me.”

pensively, he nodded. “sleep good.”

you waited for him to leave, but he just leaned against the wall next to your door again. with a loud, defeated sigh, you let yourself in and closed the door behind you. now that you saw just how many full shopping bags sat on the table, you felt even worse. he had to have spent countless thousands on you. if only you could figure out what his true motivation was for doing all this…

you couldn’t help yourself from unpacking some of your new stuff, running your fingers over your new, expensive belongings. after a bit, you remembered that you needed to be sleeping, and you put your things back before tucking yourself into the plush, comfy bed. sleep took hold of you, and you rested for hours before waking to a phone call from schlatt.

“huh?” you said when you answered, still in the clutches of unconsciousness. his laugh woke you up, though.

“jesus, i was worried i’d have to come wake you up again,” he chuckled into his cell. “i’ll be there in about an hour, start getting ready.”

“how fancy do i need to dress?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“wear that dress you picked out,” he replied. “the black one. i gotta go, i’ll be there soon, toots.” with that, he hung up, leaving you groggy and turned on from his orders. you ignored the feelings in your core and got up, changing into the dress he wanted and doing your makeup. the music you put on while you got ready did a good job of distracting you from how nervous you were, but once you had finished everything you needed to do, you perched on the edge of the bed and went over the day’s events in your mind. you had about ten minutes left until he was here to pick you up, and you counted down the seconds eagerly, unsure of if this evening would change the dynamic between the two of you.

you sprung up off the bed when he knocked at the door, grabbing a purse he had bought you earlier that you filled with your necessities for the night. opening the door revealed schlatt standing there, leaning against the frame again, dressed in a button down, slacks, and a blazer. you blinked a few times at how good he looked- you had never seen him dressed like this before and it was strange.

“what is this?” you asked quietly, taking in how nice the two of you were dressed. “this doesn’t feel like just a dinner.” you were wary of him, unsure of what his intentions were.

he rolled his eyes and scoffed, extending a hand out to invite you to join him. “will you just trust me? spent almost twelve thousand dollars on you today and you won’t even join me for dinner…” he scolded and shook his head.

eyes bulging, your jaw fell open. “twelve thousand??? schlatt, oh my god!!” you sounded horrified, and you spun around to look at all the bags again. “i can’t believe you would do that, i feel so awful.”

“makin’ you feel awful is not the goal, doll. now can you please just take my arm so i can treat you to the best dinner you’ve ever had?” he looked earnest enough, and you swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding and accepting his hand, determined to give him a shot.

“as long as you promise to buy me drinks,” you joked, letting the door fall shut behind you as he began to lead you down the hall to the elevator.

“i wouldn’t dream of letting you stay sober tonight,” he smiled.

you were just a bit beyond tipsy, laughing raucously at every joke schlatt was making. he had taken you to the fanciest steakhouse around, just a short walk from the hotel. the food was incredible, and the alcohol just kept coming. you suspected he slipped the staff some money earlier to get the two of you a secluded booth with an amazing view, but couldn’t prove it. all you knew was there was no one around and you could see the whole city from your seat across from him.

“i still don’t understand why you’re doing all of this for me,” you giggled, sipping your drink. “not complaining, not at all, i like being spoiled. but it’s confusing.” you were hiccupping every few words.

“you’re never gonna shut up about it, are you?” he asked, downing the last of his whiskey. “at least now you’re bein’ grateful for it. glad i could get you to admit you like being spoiled, though.”

“it wasn’t you that made me admit it, schlatt, it was the alcohol.” you leaned in close to whisper the last part and his eyes widened slightly when he smelled how strong your breath was.

“okay, toots, i believe you. i think it’s time to get you back to your room, hmm?” he sounded genuinely concerned, worried that he might have gotten you a bit too intoxicated. he couldn’t go through with his plan if you were all the way drunk, then you might not remember it in the morning- and he wanted you to remember what he was going to do to you.

“can i have dessert?”

a soft smile crossed his lips. “yeah, i’ll order us some dessert.” he flagged down some wait staff and talked with them for a bit before they left, returning a few minutes later with several different plates of different desserts.

you squealed, giddy from your sweet tooth, and sampled all of them, passing the best ones across the table with an, “ohhh, you gotta try this one!” or, “this one’s soooo good.” he nodded, taking small bites of whichever ones you passed to him. as you ate your treats, he took care of the bill, and once you had finished, the two of you were ready to go. he helped you up and out of the booth, and escorted you out of the restaurant and down the short trek to the hotel. it was dark out now, and the two of you slunk by everyone quickly. the pace he set was manageable, but only just so in the heels you were wearing.

once you two arrived at the hotel, you got on the elevator, giggling and joking with each other before stumbling out onto your floor. he walked you to your door and hesitated. you didn’t notice, though; you were just trying to find your room key in your purse. he spoke before you could, though.

“can i come in?” he asked. his voice sounded nervous.

you looked up at him, still digging in your purse. “for what?”

he sighed and pulled a keycard out of his pocket, swiping it and letting you both in. “you really wanna know why i bought you all that shit?” you entered first, him trailing behind you. there was a large, plain black bag sitting on your bed that wasn’t there when you left. you were tipsy, but you swore it was new.

“yeah, schlatt, i do.” you set your purse down on a table and turned around to face him. he was standing close to you, so close you had to look up to make eye contact. “what the fuck is all this about?”

he took a deep breath, hand coming up to rest on your waist. you flicked your eyes to where he was touching you, fireworks exploding under your skin, and looked back up at him. “i thought maybe if i spoiled you rotten you’d have a lot harder time saying no,” he spoke softly.

“saying no to what?” you questioned, raising one eyebrow at him. he walked closer to you and you backed up, him walking you to the bed until you were sitting on the edge and he was looking down at you. reaching into the black bag, he pulled out a bundle of rope and a piece of silk that you could only guess would go in your mouth to gag you. “schlatt?” you asked, voice trembling.

“i won’t hurt you, i promise. not unless you want me to,” he breathed, gently grabbing your chin. “do you want me to?”

you froze as he bent down to whisper the last question in your ear, goosebumps raising at the feeling of his breath against your neck. you couldn’t stop yourself. “yeah,” you gasped. “yeah, i do.” you felt him grin against your skin as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your throat, earning a whimper from you.

his massive hands were warm as they pawed at your dress, slipping behind you to undo the zipper. you shivered at the cool air as the garment fell from your shoulders, exposing the lacy black set you were wearing. it slid all the way off you and you kicked it away, reaching down to undo your shoes and pulling those off as well. you felt extremely vulnerable in front of him, most of your skin exposed as he pushed you down to lay on your back. he began kissing your collarbones, down to your chest, all the way down your stomach, and buried his face in your clothed heat. you moaned, face burning red, and bucked your hips up into his face.

schlatt snickered and pulled his face away, causing you to whimper at the sudden loss of kisses being planted on your clit. “this’s gonna be fun,” he mumbled, standing up and adjusting his pants. you couldn’t help but notice how tight they were. you started to speak as you sat up, but he shushed you and grabbed the piece of silk, gagging you with it and securing it around your mouth. he patted you on the head when he finished, mumbling an, “attagirl,” before grabbing the rope and positioning you with your hands behind your back.

you let out some muffled noises, confused, but obeyed. he tied your arms tightly, ensuring you were securely bound by the restraints before bringing the rope around your waist to the front and doing an intricate knot pattern, enveloping you in the cord like a harness.

schlatt paused after a while of tying, gently undoing your bra and removing it before drinking the sight of your bare chest in. he only savored the sight of you for a moment before resuming the knots.

once the rope came back around to your hips, he flicked his eyes up to look at yours and knelt down between your legs. you couldn’t have said anything even if you weren’t gagged, the visual of him pressing his face into your core again stole the air from your lungs. his dark, lust-filled eyes stared up at you, as if he was trying to memorize the sight of you.

luckily, he didn’t have to.

you whined when he pulled away, and yelped when he delivered a sharp smack to your face.

“shut the fuck up, doll,” he warned. “i promise you i’m gonna make you feel good. now lemme finish tyin’ you up.”

tears stung your eyes as you nodded silently, and you feared only for a fleeting second that you had put yourself in a bad situation. but then you were too horny to care.

he tugged your panties off with one rough motion, eyeing you suspiciously when you shivered from the feeling of cool air on your cunt, but nodded almost imperceptibly when you stayed still for him. he carefully finished binding you, leaving your legs able to be moved but tightening the restraints on your arms so that you had no choice but to be obedient.

when he was done, schlatt took a step back and admired his work for a bit before reaching into the black bag again. this time, he pulled out his old camcorder and a polaroid camera. your face immediately flushed with the realization that he planned to immortalize the image of you in this pathetic position forever. you imagined him returning to watch the footage over and over, stroking his cock and panting every time. the polaroids would go in his wallet, you fantasized.

“smile, toots!” broke you out of your trance. the camera flashed, and soon it spit out a photo of you sitting there on the edge of the bed. he shook it out a bit and chuckled quietly when it developed, staring at it possessively before showing it to you. “look at you, so pretty sittin’ there for me. let me get a few more, okay? just in case,” his voice was velvet, coating you in desire and anticipation. the replay of his rich timbre in your mind was the only thing that kept you satiated while he posed you, spreading your legs apart for the last few pictures so that your wet hole was on full display.

you made the mistake of not looking directly at the camera for the second picture, embarrassed to be seen like this, and schlatt tsked when he saw the image. his big hand reached out and smacked you once more, and this time, tears started falling. that only spurred him on, though.

“awh, yeah, doll, that’s a good idea. cry f’ me.” he smiled cruelly, raising the camera to his eye to take even more photos. “but keep your fuckin’ eyes right here.”

you felt more drops fall from your eyes, unsure of if they were genuine or just to appease him. regardless, he loved it. he nearly cackled at how ruined you were beginning to look, makeup now running down your face, hair mussed. it all added to the photos, which he was collecting quite the stack of.

once he felt he had enough, he fanned them all out in his hands and swept his eyes over them. after organizing them a bit, how so you couldn’t even begin to guess, he set them on the nightstand and walked over to set the camcorder up so that it would capture everything he was about to do to you.

you admired him from behind as he knelt down in front of the camera, adjusting it and hitting record when it was ready. as soon as he did, his demeanor changed; he moved more quickly, more impatiently, as he walked back towards you, grabbed you by the throat, and spat on you.

you shied away from him slightly but continued to gaze up at him lovingly. “you’re so fucking pitiful, y’know that?” he growled. “gotta hand it to ya though, twelve thousand is quite a price. well, i guess almost fourteen after dinner. god, you really can put it away, huh? not to mention the drinks,” he smirked down at you as your eyes widened and you looked away, embarrassed to have cost him that much. “let’s find out if you’re worth that much, huh, doll?”

schlatt reached into the black bag once again, and you wondered when would be the last time. this time his hand came out clutching a vibrator he had hooked up to his phone. you froze in shock as he reached towards you with it, processing too slowly to stop what he was going to do. he wasted no time pushing it deep inside you and pulling out his phone. you whimpered quietly while he fiddled with the app, the seconds drawing on and on until you couldn’t take it anymore. and just when you were about to do something, anything, he turned it on.

spasms rocked through you; the vibrations were so intense it felt like pleasure was curling around and enveloping every nerve ending in your body. you could’ve sworn you were burning, everything felt so white-hot. stars were all you could see as you tried to adjust to the feelings ringing out from deep inside you. eventually, you stabilized, and he guided your chin to make you look into his eyes, as if he was checking to make sure you were okay. you just blinked slowly, lust clouding both of your judgements.

when he decided you were fine, he set the vibrator to an intense rhythm and began unbuckling his belt, undoing his pants eagerly before pulling out his cock and pumping it in his hand. your eyes were wide and glued to his shaft, greedily following the movement, and you didn’t notice his other hand coming up to tear the piece of silk from your face. immediately he shoved his entire length down your throat, not giving you any time to babble whatever complaints you had. his bush was flush against your face, and you cried yet again from how rough he was face fucking you. he shifted positions after a bit, his hips only faltering in pace when he turned to check that the camera had a good view of your mouth being abused. he brought one leg up to rest on the bed, allowing him to get even deeper. he was alternating between tossing his head back in pleasure and holding it up to watch you.

you, however, were sobbing, helpless to stop the ravaging of your mouth, not to even mention the constant vibrations coming from the toy inside you. you had lost count of how many orgasms you had, completely giving in to him and the endless pleasure he was bringing you. he only stopped when your thighs started shaking and you squirted all over the bed.

“jesus, toots,” he laughed, still in your mouth. “the toy still in there?”

you nodded slightly.

“attagirl,” he mumbled. he pulled out and chuckled at your desperate, heaving gasps once you could breathe properly again. “i’m gonna fuck you now, doll, okay?”

you nodded eagerly, used to having to be quiet.

“i took the gag off for a reason, toots, and it wasn’t just to fuck your throat. let me hear your words.”

“yes, schlatt, please. please, god please i need you so bad. pl—” you begged before being cut off by him pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. you moaned in surprise and kissed him back furiously before he pulled away.

“a simple ‘yes’ would’ve done,” he smiled. the wholesome moment didn’t last long, though, soon he was taking off the rest of his clothes so he was also nude and bending you onto your hands and knees. he groaned at the sight of your pussy, ass up in the air and ready and waiting for him. you bit your lip as you sat patiently, glancing at the camera and quickly looking away while you blushed at the idea of someone watching this in the future.

he plunged a finger in, teasing you and stretching you out a bit before fishing out the vibrator and turning it off, tossing it to the side. you relaxed a bit at the momentary lack of stimulation, but yelped when he smacked your ass. you felt him lining himself up with you and tried to calm the nerves buzzing in your stomach.

when he pushed in, you let out a quiet, drawn out moan. schlatt copied you, eyes trained on where you were damn near sucking him into you, entranced by the sight of his length slipping into your dripping folds.

“god, you're so tight,” he spoke through gritted teeth. he tried to let you adjust to his size for a moment, but after a few seconds, he said, “fuck it, i can't wait any longer.” with that, he began slamming in and out of you, hard, enough to make a loud smack every time his hips met your ass.

“takin’ me so well, doll,” he praised, slowing down slightly to adjust you and keep you propped up for the camera.

you just wailed, approaching another orgasm. the clench of your walls around him signaled to him what was about to happen, and he grinned as he brought his hand around to your clit to rub circles into it.

“schlatt!!!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face.

he grunted and smacked your ass again, repeatedly, watching the recoil of it every time. “god, you sound pretty when you scream my name like that,” he growled.

you called out his name again, and again, and again, over and over until your throat was raw as he pounded you. somehow, you forgot about the camera.

he didn't, though. when he was getting close, he pulled out and spun you around roughly, glancing to make sure you were still in frame before finishing himself off and spurting his cum all over your face and chest. you sat there, staring up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes, until he was done and he walked off to grab the polaroid. he took a few shots of you covered in his seed before putting them back and dipping his finger in it, bringing it to your lips where you greedily licked it off him.

he scoffed, trying to hide how turned on he was by that, and positioned himself between your legs, sliding in again with ease. you moaned, the sound like music to his ears— he had never heard or seen anything as beautiful as you, the sight of your cum-covered tits bouncing as he rocked his hips was sure to stay with him for the rest of his life.

schlatt didn't mean to, but his hand found its way to your throat and clutched it tightly. he only realized what he was doing when you began squirming, then thrashing in an attempt to escape his grip. he released your neck and shook out his hand, blinking his eyes a few times as he dialed back in on how good you were feeling trapped under him.

he rolled his hips skillfully, fucking into you at a brutal pace as he made sure to hit the deepest parts of you he could. at this point, your legs were hooked over his shoulders, and he was insistent on bending them even further, until he had you in a mating press underneath him. you were singing on his cock, nonstop whorish noises spilling from your lips.

“god, you’re gonna milk me dry,” he laughed breathlessly as you came around his cock for what felt like the millionth time.

“fuuuck!” you screeched, eyes rolling back into your head. “schlatt, please,” you begged him— though what you wanted, he wasn’t sure of.

“doll, you keep beggin’ me like that and all you’re gonna get is my fat fuckin’ load deep in that pussy,” he warned. you somehow understood his threat in your post-orgasm haze and lit up at the possibility of being bred by him.

“please!! please, schlatt, i’ve been so good, please give it to me,” you rambled frantically, gaze fixed on his perfect visage. his brown hair was messy, and a few strands kept falling in front of his face as his dark eyes puzzled through why you would want that. eventually, he settled on giving you what you wanted, his thrusts slowing in pace but increasing in force as he got closer and closer before burying his cock to the hilt in you and painting your walls with an enormous amount of cum. you prayed none of it would spill out the whole time schlatt was collapsed onto your chest, breathing heavily.

he watched himself pull out of you and groaned at the sight of his sperm leaking from your cunt, quickly reaching to snap some pictures and eventually bringing the camcorder to capture your ruined makeup and fucked out state. when he was done, he shut the camera off and quickly went to work untying you.

“did so good f’me, ‘m so proud,” he murmured as he worked, gently rubbing the places on your skin where the rope hurt you. he placed a kiss to every one and continued to praise you.

you couldn’t say anything, too tired from being used like that, so you just let him take care of you and stared at him in adoration.

“d’ya want me to stay the night? can i?” he asked softly once he freed you from your restraints. “i was thinking i could help run you a bath or something…”

“please stay,” you rasped, clearing your throat. “i don’t want you to go.” the last sentence was quiet, but he still heard it, evident by the smile that crossed his lips.

“alright then, toots, you won’t be gettin’ rid of me for the rest of the trip.”

[19burstraat]

ketterdam dashboard simulator

goedmedbridge420

who up boeking they canal

10,345 notes

drydens follow

I can't believe some of you log on here and thirstpost about barrel vagrants. it makes me so sick. these men are the very pits of society and have never honoured ghezen a day in their lives. there are so many other young men who make their living in a reverent way. have some dignity.

#ghezen #inghezenssight #ghezenhonouring #churchofghezen #handofghezen

2 notes

kooperomno1fan

lionsroar12 follow

omg HOW is kaz brekker winning this he's SO problematic he's not even good for the economy he killed members of his own gang and kidnapped councilman van eck's son

dregsundrained

cranky coz your gang fell apart aren't you

17,860 notes

oskervoexchange follow

guys is this a mandela effect or what bc I SWEAR this painting used to be in the university district art museum, I literally saw it this week??? but I went today and it was GONE?????? there wasn't even a plaque?? guys pls I'm so confused why is everyone acting like this is normal for ketterdam? do priceless antiques just VANISH? am I being gaslit?

450 notes

stadhall-clerking

guys I'm so sorry I've been MIA :( I found out that my landlord was using my rent on the staves rather than fixing my black mould problem so I pushed him out the window and told the stadwatch he must have fallen and died because he wasn't honouring ghezen and got away with it. anyway I think maybe the black mould explains the dirtyhands/sturmhond fic I was writing sorry :( but I WILL finish my fairy queen of istamere meta post once I've moved into my new lodging

670 notes

dregsconfessions follow

SUBMISSION: sometimes I lie awake thinking about the time I fell down an entire flight of stairs at the slat when kaz was at the bottom, and he just stared at me (still lying on the floor), and then asked if I'd changed the beer kegs at the silver six yet. GIRL NO?!?!?!

#submission #dregs #dirtyhands #admin comment: laughed so loud my upstairs neighbour threatened to shoot me

546 notes

dregsconfessions follow

ADMIN NOTE: if the razorgulls don't fucking stop sending anon hate to this blog we'll tell dirtyhands n he'll send you your own IP address back

#see what happens you hack job seagulls

500 notes

kerchtourismboard

it's us, the real kerch tourism board, here to tell you what we're putting in the new summer season pamphlet. we got 1) three pages all about kaz brekker that end up being more of an advertisement than a deterrent 2) list of slipperiest spots in the barrel where you will fall over and get a concussion when ur drunk 3) top 10 ways to get your wallet stolen by a child in broad daylight 4) paintings of the komedie brute 5) advert for sten's stockpot 6) map of public toilets

570 notes

kerchtourismboardreal follow

we are not affiliated with any degenerate impersonator accounts who claim to be us. we are the only real kerch tourism account.

23 notes

kerchtourismboard-real follow

grafcanal smells like piss and you should bite everyone you see wearing the mister crimson costume

450 notes

stensstockpot follow

it's all 'fuck sten's stockpot' and 'I got food poisoning from the special at sten's stockpot' until you realise you don't have the money for cilla's fry, and then you come CRAWLING back to the loving arms of sten's stockpot and our special. you fucking traitors. you'll be back! you'll all be back

canaljumpings follow

what's in the special sten's stockpot

stensstockpot follow

it's a surprise ;)

bertskerch follow

nah I thought this was the real stens lmao

stensstockpot follow

bert smit you still have 45 kruge to pay on your tab and if you don't cough up we'll send our debtors to break your legs

230 notes

exchangingbabey follow

my grisha girlfriend who still wears a kefta and says things like 'nikolai lantsov is a bastard': ugh they're still debating whether or not the council of tides should be able to control kerch shipping, I hate inter-country politics

me: I think I hauve the queen's lady

4500 notes

(insp) (insp)

[theemporium]

[2.3k] when your boyfriend achieves a podium at his home race, it’s only right that you give him the reward he deserves. even if you only have fifteen minutes to do so. (smut)

part two

.

He had barely stepped off the podium before you were dragging him into his driver’s room.

Silverstone was always an important race, regardless of the racer. It was a historic track and an iconic race to drive in. It was one of those races—alongside Monaco—that every driver dreamed of winning, of standing on the podium and looking down at the cheering crowds. 

And for Lando Norris, it was also his home race. 

After the struggles the car had been putting him through all season, seeing his smiling face as he climbed off the car behind the number two sign made your heart swell on Saturday after qualifying. Watching him run towards his team, cheering and celebrating and slapping him on the back. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful this season. 

Then Sunday came along and it had been full of nerves and butterflies and silent prayers that your boy would do well, that the team wouldn’t screw him over. 

Truthfully, your faith wavered after the safety car pit stop that put Lando’s car on hards. You stood by his team and his parents, practically watching the release of the safety car between your fingers as you watched your boyfriend be squished between the Red Bull and the Mercedes, both on soft tyres. 

And then the fucking unbelievable happened. 

Your stomach flipped as you watched your boyfriend fend off the seven-time world champion. Your nails were digging into your palms as each corner came and went, and before you even realised it, the checkered flag was waving and Lando Norris crossed the line in P2. 

P2 in his own home race when even McLaren themselves doubted they would be able to pull it off. 

The roars of the crowd was surreal, the way they clapped and chanted as he walked out onto the podium. The way he lifted the trophy over his head, a massive grin split across his face. The way he hit the bottom of the champagne bottle off the podium, soaking himself and his fellow drivers until champagne was dripping off their bodies. 

You don’t think you had ever been as attracted to your boyfriend as you were in that moment, in that snapshot of seeing him be the happiest he had been in months. 

Lando, like the rest of the drivers, had around fifteen minutes to freshen up before they were whisked away to their media duties. 

You weren’t going to waste a single second of it. 

“Baby,” Lando laughed as you tugged him into his driver’s room, the door locked quickly behind you before you turned around to him. “What’s up—mphm.”

Your lips were against his before he could even finish his question. But talking was the last thing on his mind as his hands fell to your waist, bunching the fabric of your dress in his fists as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Congratulations, baby,” you murmured in between rushed kisses, your nails scratching along the back of his neck in the way that made him shiver. “You did so fucking well.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned in such a way that you didn’t know if your heart was going to beat out of your chest or if you were going to clench your thighs together in hopes it did something. “Feeling proud?” 

“So proud,” you mumbled before pulling him closer, but Lando just chuckled slightly.

“Baby, I gotta get changed for media,” he told you, squeezing your hips to exaggerate his point. “Someone is gonna come knocking in ten minutes—”

“So we have ten minutes?” you interrupted, your eyebrows raised in questioning.

“I mean, technically—” he started but that was more than enough. 

“We can do a lot in ten minutes,” you said to him, your eyes wide and eager and he felt something in his stomach clench. 

“Yeah?” he rasped. 

“Yeah, baby,” you grinned before you leaned forwards, your lips meeting his in a slower, meaningful kiss. “Let me show you how proud I am.” 

Lando gulped, only nodding his head in response. 

“Words, Lando. I need words.” 

“Fuck, please,” he all but whined as he ducked his head back down to meet your lips again. 

The grip he had on your hips was desperate, fuelled with a newfound need to have you. Ten minutes was more than enough time, plus the media team could always talk to the other drivers first. He wanted you, he needed you and he was going to have you—consequences be damned. 

The noise he let out was almost like a whimper, need and want so clear in his voice as the heel of your palm stroked along his length through his thick face suit. 

“Baby—“ Lando wheezed out, his eyes clenching shut as you began to undo the zipper of his suit. 

“Gonna give you want, pretty boy,” you murmured, your lips falling down to the skin peaking through his race suit as you finally began to start shrugging it off his shoulders. You leaned closer, kissing down his jaw and the column of his neck as your hands worked on getting him undressed. “Gonna make you feel good.” 

“You always do,” he breathed out, his voice a little shaky as he helped you pull his arms out, pushing the race suit until it was pooling at his knees. But before he could even try removing it the rest of the way, a hand on his chest stopped him. 

He watched you, his eyes focused on you like a hawk as your fingers traced along the waistband of his boxers. He reached for you, reached for the skirt of your dress but you swatted his hands away before he could even make a move. He opened his mouth, a small pout on his lips but he quickly fell quiet as he watched you sink to your knees. 

“Baby—”

“Be a good boy and stay quiet for me, yeah?” you asked, looking up at him with such an innocent expression that he could’ve blown his load there and then. 

“Promise,” he murmured, his heart beating against his ribs. “Gonna be your good boy.”

And you just smiled. A simple fucking smile and Lando knew that regardless of what you did, he wasn’t going to last long at all. 

His back was pressed against the thin wall of his driver’s room, his hands tightened into fists in his hand as he watched you. The way your nails traced along the length of him over his boxers, the way your eyes lit up as his cock jumped at the simple act. The way you leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his clothed length as your hands wrapped around his thick thighs, watching the way he squirmed under your touch.

“Please,” he whined.

But you didn’t listen, your nails lightly raking up and down his thighs as his legs shook with a strong desire he had never felt before. He needed you. He needed to be inside you. He didn’t think he needed anything more than he needed you right now.

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, slowly tugging the material down his legs until it was pooled at his knees with the rest of his race suit. He let out a soft hiss as the cool air hit him, the tip of his cock already leaking a small bead of precum. 

But before he could even get used to the cool sensation, you were leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, letting it lay heavy on your tongue.

“Shit,” Lando whined, his hips bucking on instinct and it was your hands pushing him back against the wall that made his eyes snap back open. He looked down at you, the tip of his cock in your mouth and your wide eyes staring at him, and he was starting to wish this was how every race ended. 

You bobbed your head further along the length of him, your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as the tip brushed against the back of your throat before you pulled back. You pulled back until his tip was brushing against your lips, a thin line of salvia connecting them both as your hand moved to replace your mouth.

“You know what I want?” you asked, your voice a little raspy and low and it only made the blood rush to his cock. “You know all I thought about when you were up there?”

“What?” Because he knew, no matter what you asked, he would give you. He would give you anything you asked when you were on your knees in front of him with your hand wrapped around his cock.

“You,” it was as simple as that, if it weren’t for the fact you were reaching for his hands, slowly prying his fists open and guiding them towards you. “You taking out all that extra energy…on me.”

His stomach coiled in desire. “Baby—”

“Please, Lando,” you whispered, your tongue darting out to collect some precum leaking from his tip. “Just need to feel you inside me.”

And who was Lando to deny you? Who was he to not give you what you so desperately wanted and desired?

There was a voice in the back of his head that tried to remind him where he was. The same voice that was reminding him he had duties to uphold, he had journalists to talk to, he had a podium to celebrate with his team. The same voice that was reminding him that the locks on the driver rooms aren’t absolutely secure, that a hearty shove would be enough to get past it.

And yet, that voice in the back of his head was the last thing he was focused on.

Not when his pretty girlfriend was on her knees in front of him. Not when he had his fingers tangled in her hair as he guided her head up and down his cock. Not when his hips were thrusting, the debauched and needy sounds you were making as his cock hit the back of your throat echoing through the small room.

Not when Lando wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned, the muscles in his thighs tensing as he reached closer and closer to the edge. “Feel so fucking good for me, so fucking good for me, baby.”

You moaned, the noise muffled and garbled but he felt the vibrations along the length of him all the same. You pushed your hands under his fireproofs, your nails scratching down his toned torso as his abs clenched softly under your touch.

“Like you were fucking made for me,” he muttered out, his voice a little breathy and whiny as he found himself clenching his eyes shut. “Shit, baby—”

His head fell back against the wall with a soft thump as he came, his cock still deep down your throat as he spilled inside your mouth. The noises he let out were pathetic and needy as his hips bucked up as your tongue teased the tip of his cock. He slumped back against the wall, his chest rising and falling with heavy pants and little white dots blurring his vision.

He let out a soft whimper as you finally pulled away from him, pressing a chaste kiss against the head of his cock before you began to pull his boxers back up. He let out a noise of aversion, trying to bat your hands away and instead pull you closer to him which he allowed.

“Lando—” you started but you didn’t get far before he had both hands on your cheeks, pulling your face to his so he could kiss you. He didn’t even care if he could taste himself on your tongue, he just needed to kiss you.

“I love you,” he sighed wistfully against your lips in between kisses.

“I love you too,” you murmured before pulling away, a hand on his chest to stop him from trying to kiss you again. “You need to go.”

He looked like a kicked puppy. “Why?”

“You have media, Lando,” you murmured with a soft smile, looking at your boyfriend’s flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. You almost felt bad that you would have to send him out like that. 

“Fuck the media,” he grumbled as he tried to lean down again, but you stopped him once again.

“Your team will kill you,” you snorted, shaking your head. “Go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Lando let out a huff. “You give me the best goddamn blowjob of my life and expect me to just go about my life like everything is normal.”

You patted his chest. “You’ll survive.”

He sighed dramatically. “Barely.”

“Tell you what,” you said as you watched your boyfriend scamper around the cramped room to make himself look somewhat presentable before he headed out towards the media pen. “If you go out and be a good boy and do all your media duties, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight.”

Lando paused, glancing up at you. “Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want,” you murmured, leaning to kiss him one last time before he left. “But only if you’re on your best behaviour.”

“Deal,” he blurted out quickly, a giddy smile spread across his face and something almost like mischief shining in his eyes. 

“That’s my boy,” you said with a fond smile. “My winner.”

Lando snorted. “I was P2, baby.”

“Like a winner to me, anyways,” you shrugged before you leaned down to playfully smack his ass as he walked past. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Norris.”

He flashed you a cheeky smile. “Keep ‘em up here, darling.” 

And you could only laugh when he barrelled back into his driver’s room two hours later, grinning like a cheshire cat as he did so.

“A deal is a deal, baby, gotta pay up now.”

So you did.

.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - modern!au, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, nonconsensual touching, and stalking. written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

“I’ve been thinking about us, again.”

He was barely trying to whisper, his voice loud enough to earn several pointed looks from the people around you. You’d tried to put yourself at a distance from the rest of the class, to sit in a deserted corner of the near-empty lecture hall, but he wouldn’t have cared if you were in the first row. That was something you’d had to learn quickly about him – Kunikuzushi was shameless at the best of times, actively vitriolic at the worst. Your public humiliation wasn’t just a pleasant side-effect of his company, but an active goal he was striving towards during every minute you spent together.

“You don’t have to look so worried – if I was going to break up with you, you’d know.” You kept your eyes trained on the lecturer, your expression schooled to practiced disinterest, but his voice lulled like you’d broken into tears. You felt him shift that much closer to you – his thigh pressing into yours. “I just don’t think we spend enough time together. I know, I know, we’re both busy, but still. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

You were. Just last week, you’d spent two hours locked in your bedroom closet – lights off and knees pulled into your chest – because Kuni had somehow gotten your address and decided it would be a good use of his time to loiter on your doorstep and refuse to leave until you came out. You planned your day-to-day schedule meticulously to make sure it would never bleed into his, went out of your way not to have to go where you knew he would be, but there was only so much you could do to get away from someone willing to blow off his classes and skip work just to spend the better part of a day sending you candid pictures from one of his countless burner phones. You could only be thankful he was too caught up in his own delusions to ever let his obsession turn violent. Lashing out at you for never acknowledging whatever relationship he thought you were in would be akin to admitting you didn’t have a relationship at all, he would never do that.

He took up your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You tried, weakly, to pull away from him, but he only let out a breathy chuckle, his head soon resting on your shoulder. Compared to how he’d acted when you first met – standoffish, bristly, constantly on the verge of losing his temper – he was practically a touch-starved puppy, happy so long as he could sit in your lap and bask in your attention, positive or negative.

If only you’d ever wanted a pet.

“I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say it.” Another laugh, a playful squeeze to your hand. “I think we should move in together.”

You snapped in his direction, your knees jolting against the bottom of your desk and earning a few pointed glares. After mouthing a sheepish apology, you dug your nails into the back of his hand, keeping your voice as low as possible. “Kuni, I— I don’t think that’s—”

“Don’t think it’s practical?” Predictably, he cut you off. “I knew you’d say that. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be able to find the nerve to leave your apartment.” You felt his smile against the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck as he nuzzled against you. “I’ve already handled it. By the time that moron—“ He rolled his eyes towards your professor. “—shuts up, everything should be taken care of.”

You felt something heavy and sharp drop into the pit of your stomach. “But, you don’t have a key—”

“I made myself a key a couple weeks ago – got tired of waiting for you to offer. I love you, babe, but you’re too timid for your own good.” His grin, pressed the curve of your throat. “You can thank me later on, after I’ve shown you our new place.”

His hand fell to your thigh, just a touch too high not to trigger some buried, primal instinct inside of you. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate – bolting upward and tearing yourself away from him. Your chair scaped against the tile floor, your palms slamming against the desk, and in an instant, every pair of eyes in the lecture hall were on you. The professor scowled in your direction, his ire tangible. “Do you have something to say, (L/n)?”

You opened your mouth, but your mouth was dry, your throat suddenly swollen shut. Your gaze fell back to Kuni – his smile still wide and his eyes still so, so dark.

Wordlessly, you shook your head and collapsed back into your seat. As the lecture picked back up and all concentration was returned to the front of the rom, Kuni latched onto you once again, his hold twice as strong and twice as suffocating as it had been.

It was almost a comfort to know that, this time, there wasn’t anything you could do to get away from him.

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟑 |

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

The last time anyone picked you up was when you were getting your butt kicked by your previous master. He’d grabbed you by the waist, easily lifting you and slamming you back down onto the floor in a swift manoeuvre. 

This is exactly the reason why you’re unable to fathom someone carrying you without the intention to fight or harm you. You stare grumpily at Cole’s face, legs dangling off his arm as he carries you to the ambulance. 

“I’m fine, y’know. You can put me down now.” 

He barely spares you a glance, scanning the crowd for any more injured people. “You’ve sprained your ankle — must’ve been when you fell in that pit. You should get it checked out.”

“Oh, so now you show me concern?” Your sarcastic jab doesn’t go unnoticed, his brows furrowing under his hood. 

“What’re you even talking about?” Scoffing, you roll your eyes at the audacity of this man. Luckily, he didn’t hear what you’d uttered before about him being your soulmate and whatever. 

In the meantime, the paramedics had checked on other guests who had mumbled grievances about the auction being cancelled. On the other hand, the mayor had personally announced that they would hold it again soon after checking the museum thoroughly to avoid an incident like this again.

You’re surprised when Cole decides to remain with you, citing his duties as a ninja to come to the aid of any injured citizens. The other four are on a makeshift stage set up by the mayor’s team, standing proud and tall as he speaks.

“And lastly, I would like to thank the ninja for once again, being the heroes we need. Additionally, they will be doing another meet-and-greet on the new auction date.” He pauses, noticing someone gesturing to him to hand over the mic to another. “Additionally, it seems that Ms Hamla has something to say.”

Your stepmother walks onto the stage without a single hair out of place, still in her emerald gown. Your eyes narrow in suspicion from where you’re sitting on the chair Cole had managed to score for you.

“What’s she doing…?” Your mutter doesn’t go unnoticed, Cole turning to look at you with curiosity in his gaze. His eyes flit between your glare and the famous writer on stage, before voicing his question.

“Do you know her personally?”

Laughing, a hint of bitterness gives away exactly how you feel about that. “You could say that,” You answer vaguely. 

“Hello, citizens of Ninjago. First of all, thank you to the ninjas for evacuating everyone safely and securing the status of the threat. Truly from the bottom of my heart,” Her eyes somehow find yours from the stage. You hold a steady, yet defiant gaze. “Thank you,” She finishes softly, finally looking away.

“I will be here again on the new date of the charity auction,” She continues, her strong voice carrying the weight of her words effectively, “and I will also be selling a limited edition of a new book I’m writing, titled: ‘You Complete Me’. All proceeds will go to charity. I hope you will be able to make it.”

Scoffing, you brush off the odd look the paramedic gives you before he finishes bandaging your ankle. Chatters break out amongst the audience, everyone’s invested excitement helping fuel the eagerness of the mayor’s team. 

She better not be expecting you to come again, though. Once is more than the amount you’re willing to do for her. Your vision is blocked by a pair of concerned eyes, Cole having knelt to check on your ankle. 

“I’m fine,” You repeat with a sigh, letting him scan the now bandaged ankle. Wincing when he presses down on a sore spot, you quickly mask it with an annoyed purse of your lips. “If you keep doing that, I might end up hospitalised.”

“Fine,” He quickly drops your ankle, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth at your glare. “Sorry…” The tinge of guilt in his smile makes you feel a little bad for being so mean, but the very thought of confronting him about anything makes you feel squeamish inside. 

Pausing, you recall the hooded figure you saw in the room he’d found you in. Do any of them know…? The scroll they held looked valuable, and if there’s anything you’ve learnt from watching detective shows and reading mystery novels, it’s that it’s never a good sign to leave any stone unturned.

“Hey,” you begin, faltering slightly when he looks up at you with a doe-like gaze. You ignore it, pushing past the way your stupid heart kind of squeezes. “Earlier in the exhibition room, there was someone. They had a scroll in their hands and it looked pretty important.”

“Well, maybe it’s just a common thief. We get some of those around these parts.” He replies lightheartedly. 

“The scroll was glowing.” Now that got his attention. The disbelief in his eyes is more than enough for you to crack an amused grin, tilting your head to the side as you observe the cogs in his brain starting to turn.

“Glowing?” He repeats.

You nod. “Glowing.” Now having his full attention, you begin telling him about your encounter, and how the stranger had fled through the skylight with the weird gauntlet they had. He listens to every word with intrigue, the space between his brows creasing more and more until a full frown is on his face.

“Thanks for telling me this,” He says once you’re done, standing back up and dusting off the specks of dirt on his gi, “I’ll be sure to alert the others. Can I have your number?” You hesitate, raising a sceptical brow. 

He pauses, shoulders tense as he tries to clarify his intentions. “It’s so that we can ask you some follow-up questions if we have any, and maybe you can provide Zane with a description so he can do a sketch.” 

So much for never seeing each other again.

“Fine,” you shrug, keying in your number on the phone he hands you and adding your name. He takes it back and gives it a quick call. You pull out your phone as it rings, swiping left to pick up the call before holding it to your ear and going, “Truth or dare?”

“Neither, unfortunately,” he chuckles, pocketing his phone after hanging up. “Thanks for the info. You can send me the medical bill for your ankle, the ninja fund will cover it.”

“Ninja fund?” You repeat incredulously. If there were an award for the worst names of a foundation or charity, you’d give it to him, no questions asked. 

He turns with a grin. “Ninja fund.” 

You hesitate for a split second before making a decision. “Let’s not meet again, Cole.” His back stiffens, his steps slowing to a halt, clearly having heard you. He turns slowly, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as the realisation dawns on him that you know that he knows.

“I’ll- uh, do my best, random citizen!” He replies robotically, lifting his arm in an awkward salute before taking off to where the rest of his teammates are. You watch his retreating back with a half-smile, filled with pure amusement. 

“There you are!” You’re ambushed by a sudden hug, the shock fading as you lean into your father’s embrace. The judge’s wig he still has on tickles your nose a little, but you repress the sneeze that threatens to ruin the moment. 

He pulls away, firmly planting on your shoulders as he checks you over for injuries. “I was looking all over the place for you. Did anyone hurt you-” His eyes finally land on your bandaged ankle, looking up with a huge frown.

The sheepish chuckle that slips past your lips doesn’t help your case. “That’s it. We’re going home now.” 

“What about her?” You reluctantly nod over to Emily who’s getting swarmed by reporters, her calm composure somehow irking you even more than Cole did. 

“She’ll be fine,” His eyes soften when he looks over at her. The sight makes you feel queasy, looking down at your shoes and fiddling with your cuticles, picking away at them. “Come on,” He helps you up, placing an arm under your shoulder and walking with you to the car.

“Also,” He adds upon closing the car doors after helping you in, “Your classes are supposed to start next week. So till then, no going out until you’re better.” He holds up a finger, stopping you in your tracks as you part your lips to protest. You slouch in your seat instead with an annoyed frown, glaring out the window. A thought occurs to you, inhaling sharply when you realise something crucial.

You forgot to get the rest of the ninjas’ autographs.

— — — — — 

School is boring. That’s a fact you’ll never grow accustomed to. Classes are typical, with few lectures that grab your attention. Professors are mostly chill, though there’s a Miss Grenadine in every school it seems. 

All the pain in your sprained ankle had faded in about a week, two days after classes started. Luckily, this meant that Dad wouldn’t drop you off at school every day anymore, and you’d be able to take the bus or train as usual. 

However, the time taken for your ankle to fully recover meant that you were mostly cooped up at home with nothing to do except decorate or rearrange your bedroom however you liked. Dad had painted your room a soft grey and installed a few pieces of IKEA furniture you’d bought online. 

Your room began to feel more cosy, more like your own personal space. Before you moved, you were too lazy to redecorate and kept the pastel blue walls you’d painted when you were seven years old.

Now though, you’re trekking out of the university with your tote bag and an iced latte in hand, trying to beat the heat by taking refuge in the shadows of tall buildings around. Your laptop is dangerously exposed in the bag, occasionally hitting your arm as you walk down the street.

Your phone begins to vibrate, playing the opening lines of a trot song that Nico had made you put in as a penalty for losing a bet. You’d grown used to the cheesy tune over time, no longer bothered by it and actually embracing how cringy it sounds. 

“What up?” You greet nonchalantly, hearing your dad’s soft chuckle on the other end.

“Hey munchkin, just wanted to check if you’re on the way to the monastery.” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll reach home by eight. Want anything?” 

Your dad hums over the phone, pondering. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll get dinner for Emily. Make sure you don’t stay out too late though, you’re not used to the city layout yet.” He was supposed to drive you to the monastery, but a sudden work emergency needed his presence and he had to let you go by yourself instead.

To be fair, it did require a bit of persuasion on your side. He relented after a while and sent you the location. You just didn’t know that it’d be absolutely sweltering in the afternoon. Spotting a boba store only a few feet away, you quickly end the conversation.

“No problem, I’ll see you tonight! Bye!” The monotonous dial greets your ears upon hanging up, approaching the bored staff member who’s chilling at the cashier. “Hi, can I get an Earl Grey milk tea?” 

She keys in the order with lazy fingers, practically jabbing at the screen and telling you the price. Warily taking out the cash in your wallet, you hand it to her with a small smile. The boba is made quickly enough to your surprise, the staff member’s swift movements leave you impressed when she hands you the packaged cup with a blank stare and goodbye. 

Sweet, sweet relief.

That’s exactly what hits your tongue when you take a sip, gulping down almost a third of the drink before finding some semblance of self-control. This won’t do. You need to get there faster than walking under the hot sun. 

Flagging down a taxi takes only mere seconds, leaving you astounded by the sheer amount of drivers who halted in front of you before demanding that you should choose them.

City life is intimidating.

You choose to go with a friendly uncle who wasn’t as aggressive as the rest, sitting in the back and sighing in relief as the air-conditioning hits. “Where to?” He asks, shutting the car door. 

“Uh,” you double-check your phone, “The monastery of Spinjitsu please.” He gives a single nod, beginning the drive. You relax your upper body, tilting your head sideways to ease your tense neck. The smooth drive kinda makes you a little drowsy, but mainly relieved that you’re no longer exposed to the heat. 

Would your new teacher be young and agile, or old and wise? Wondering about the different possibilities of what he might teach you does make you feel sceptical. After all, Emily’s the one who signed you up for it without your consent. 

Either way, you’re actually kind of excited to meet this new teacher of yours. 

— — — — — 

“There is no fucking way I’m climbing up this many steps.” you stare in disbelief at the stretch ahead, unable to even see a glimpse of the foretold monastery your phone directs you to. 

The distance is unbelievable, let alone the amount of cardio this would mean for you. Sure, you’re somewhat fit from the occasional jogging and kendo, but this? You’re not sure you’ll make it up there alive. 

Maybe there’s a lift or wheelchair platform…? 

You look around hopefully, only to be utterly crushed by the absence of any potential aid. Shaking your head with a sigh, you mentally prepare yourself for the journey ahead. Luckily, you have your drink in hand, so perhaps doing this under the sun won’t be as bad as you think.

Fifteen minutes later, you very much regret choosing today of all days to check this off the to-do list. Gritting your teeth, you turn around and take a break, collapsing on the step and catching your breath. 

You’d made it halfway so far, but the sun’s relentless heat continuously beats down on your back, practically sweating through the already thin material of your black tank top. Regret fills you with the memory of an identical tank top in white hanging in your wardrobe back home, the current colour absorbing even more heat than it should.

You’d taken off the chic outer layer and stuffed it into your tote bag, though it’s becoming heavier with each step up the mountain. “Out of all places, they chose a mountain,” You mutter heatedly, gulping down the rest of your now warm drink. 

After a few more moments of rest, you pick yourself back up, groaning as the joints in your hips pop loudly. “I swear, when I get there, they better have a towel or something…” If they didn’t, you’d be damned sure to get your hands on some water at least.

Encouraged by the thought, you pick up the pace. 

Twenty minutes later, you finally reach the huge, ornate doors that stand tall above you. Sweat drips down the sides of your face, and your shirt soaked with sweat. God knows how your armpits feel. 

You barely have the strength to push the doors wide open, opting instead for a simple knock. There’s no response. You’re practically on your knees, hands placed flat on the ground from exhaustion. 

Just as you lift a limp arm to knock once more, the door opens. 

“...Can I help you…?”

Looking up, your eyes widen upon seeing a familiar face. The Ice Ninja mirrors your reaction, kneeling and offering you a hand. “Come in, let’s get you something cold.” 

Summoning enough strength to nod, you grab his hand and pull yourself up. Tiredness hinders your normal movements but certainly isn’t enough to keep a snarky comment from escaping your mouth.

“You guys ever thought about relocation?” 

— — — — — 

A shower and quick change of clothes kindly provided by Zane leave you a whole new person. Towelling your hair dry, you hand Zane the towel he lent from the supply closet. “Thanks, Zane, I don’t think I could’ve survived any training, much less meet Master Wu as I was earlier.” 

He chuckles, neatly folding the towel. “It’s quite alright. I understand our location may not be the best, which is why we always have a guest room and shower available for those who visit.” 

Depositing the towel into a random laundry basket in the hallway, he continues to guide you through the area. “Those are Nya’s clothes, by the way. She doesn’t mind if you take them; they’re usually meant for beachwear. What brings you here?” 

“I’m supposed to be a new student. Emily signed me up for lessons here, since I had to quit my previous dojo when we moved to the city,” You explain, pausing to stare at the courtyard with intrigue.

“Oh? What did you do there?” Zane asks, stopping with you. The children who take lessons at the monastery run amok in the courtyard with joy, practising their moves and playing games cheerfully. You’re simply amazed at how they’re able to tolerate the heat. “The walls are built with technology that keeps the interior cool,” he explains, sensing your curiosity.

“That’s a dream come true,” You sigh wistfully, wishing that it was installed into the mountains so that your journey here wasn’t so treacherous. “I used to learn Kendo.” You resume your walk, answering his earlier question. 

“Kendo is difficult. It’s very admirable that you’ve learnt it, and are continuing to learn other styles of self-defence.” He brings you to a large room with a tea set neatly laid out on a table in the middle, soft mats covering the wooden floor. “Master Wu will be with you shortly.” You smile in response, giving him your thanks as you sit down. 

Once he closes the door, you take a sip of the tea in front of you. They’d been so kind as to already put ice cubes inside your cup, and leave a cooler filled with more drink alternatives like soda to the side. 

Say what you will about the ninja and their team, but they know how to treat their guests.

The wooden doors are rather beautiful, you note. Few beams of sunlight pass through, giving the room an almost ethereal glow. Upon placing a hand on the carpet, you notice the coolness seeping through. They must’ve installed something underneath.

Withdrawing your hand and taking another sip, you let out a happy hum at the relief that greets your butt. Impressed doesn't begin to cover how you feel. The atmosphere is tranquil, and you begin to absentmindedly watch the water streaming down a small waterfall in the corner of the room. 

The sound of a door sliding open jolts you to your senses, fumbling to put down your teacup. Standing up to greet whoever’s walked in, you’re surprised to see an old man holding a cane staring at you from the doorway. 

Is he your new teacher?

“Master Wu…?” You trail off cautiously, not wanting to offend the man in case he’s someone else entirely. He enters the room, sliding the door back into place before turning to assess you.

His gaze is filled with clarity and knowledge, scanning your arms and legs as if knowing how to read even the subtlest scars on your elbows made from blocking your previous teacher’s blows. “I take it that you are Emily’s daughter?”

“Step-daughter,” You correct, though the immediate tensing of your shoulders doesn’t escape his notice. He chooses not to address it, sitting down opposite you and pouring himself a steaming cup of tea instead. “You’re Master Wu, right?”

“Indeed I am if you choose to continue with your lessons.” He takes a single sip, his behaviour akin to wine tasting as he frowns at the tea in his cup. Ascertaining that it’s up to standard, he continues to sip away while keeping a thoughtful eye on you. “I take it that the climb was tiring?”

Heat tinges your cheeks, though you’re unsure as to why you’re so embarrassed. After all, it’s not like you dedicate your time to hiking up a mountain every day. “Yeah. I take it that you guys haven’t thought about installing a lift?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you cover it in shock. 

Damn your impulsiveness, you curse yourself mentally. Your dad already warned you about keeping your mouth shut at times like this. Your previous master even lectured you on it when you said goodbye. You sneak a peek at Master Wu, hoping that you haven’t offended one of the most powerful men in Ninjago City, literally and figuratively. 

Instead, he regards you with an emotionless stare. You hold your breath, awaiting a rejection. However, he cracks a smile, rendering you speechless. “We will begin our lessons next Wednesday after your lessons. You can coordinate with Pixal on the schedule.” He picks himself off the floor, dusting off any dirt that had gotten on his robe before exiting the room. 

The door slides shut, and your hands fall to your lap. Disbelief is all you can register, replaying a frame-by-frame of your interaction with him and trying to figure out what he found so amusing. Does this signal good news or bad? 

“Did everything go well?” You look up to see Zane poking his head in through the doorway. Once he spots the pure astonishment on your face, he chuckles, sitting down in front of you. “He was smiling when he left, so I’m sure it went well.”

“I…I don’t know. I think I pissed him off?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. He rarely smiles, so you should take it as a compliment.” His reassurance soothes your nerves somewhat, and you manage to muster a smile. 

“Thanks again for your help Zane,” you say gratefully, walking back through the hallways. He stops by the kitchen to grab a bag with your clothes inside, handing it back to you. The very girl you borrowed clothes from is in the kitchen, eyeing you with intrigue. 

“The outfit looks good on you.” You recognise her face from the newspaper, an embarrassed flush on your cheeks when you feel underdressed in front of Nya and her gi. “You can keep it. I’m Nya.” 

You shake the hand she holds out to you, heart warmed by her kind smile. “Thanks for the clothes. I was pretty much drenched by the time I got up here,” you laugh. She grins at your joking words. “Are you sure I can keep these though? I mean, they do belong to you after all.”

“I’m sure,” she easily waves it off, grabbing your hands with an excited glint in her eyes. “I’m just glad there’s gonna be another girl around! How old are you, anyway?” 

“She’s Cole’s age,” Zane chimes in. You cast him a wary look, surprised that he even knew. Well, that and the fact that you’re still getting used to your soulmate being the literal earth ninja. Luckily, it seems that he hasn’t told anyone here yet about the connection between you both.

“Oh, that’s cool! You’re like an older sister then,” She says happily. “Well, don’t let me stop you from going home to rest. I heard you had an injury not too long ago from the charity auction. Do you feel better now?”

You swivel your ankle with a grin showing it off proudly. “Got it moving and all too.” 

“That’s a relief! Zane, you should bring her home. I’d ask Jay but…he and Kai are currently preoccupied,” she trails off, pointing to the other connected room that’s out of sight, a few yells and what seems to be game sound effects reveal what they're up to. 

“Anyway, I gotta get back in there with snacks. It was nice meeting you, I hope we get to hang out soon!” You wave goodbye, watching her leave with a bowl of chips in one hand, a bottle of soda in the other, and another bowl of salsa balancing precariously on top of her head.

Ninja things, you reckon. 

“So, how do you know my age, exactly?” 

“Pixal studied up on you. Please don’t be offended, we didn’t dig too deep. We just do it in case a villain tries to slip into the monastery in disguise.” Zane holds his hands up, the innocence in his eyes drawing a laugh out of you. 

“It’s fine. We’re good. Plus, I get it. I’d do that too. It’s hard to trust anyone.”

His shoulders sag with relief, guiding you past the doors and to a space on the side of the monastery. “Please step back,” He instructs. You quickly move a few feet away, unsure of what ninja stuff he might be up to. 

A single wave of his arms summons a huge dragon with blue flames that cover its entire being. It roars in greeting, moving its head down to nudge Zane playfully. He chuckles, hopping atop the saddle on its back. 

You’re frozen in place not by fright or terror, but by pure amazement at the being before you. You’d only heard tales like this in stories or legends, so to see an actual mythical being right in front of you is quite frankly mind-blowing. A multitude of questions race through your mind, only for a single one to stand out among the others.

“Do you like, not feel heat? Y’know, being a robot and all.” He pauses, seemingly amused by your question. He ponders an answer, a hand cupping his chin in thought. 

“I suppose not, as I have an automated cooling system designed to regulate my temperature so I don’t explode.” He replies simply, reaching his hand down to help you up. “Now, where do you live?” 

You part your lips, not giving it much thought when you say your address. Realisation dawns on you when you see the expectant look on his face, your lips pulling into a beam filled with utter glee. “Am I going to ride Fridgey back home??”

He cocks his head, bewildered by the sudden name. “Fridgey, because he’s cold? Like a fridge? Whatever, let’s go!!” You dismiss any questions as you eagerly grab his outstretched hand, awed by how high up you are. Thankfully, the dragon is cold to the touch, an assumption you’d made based purely on Zane’s element.

“I suppose ‘Fridgey’ is a somewhat suitable name.”

“Somewhat? It’s perfect!” You laugh maniacally when he takes off, holding tight to the sides of the saddle as you soar through the sky on a dragon’s back. When else would you ever be able to experience this? “Today is the best. day. ever!!!!”You whoop, daring to lift a single arm to feel the clouds. 

Euphoria floods your veins, ignoring the concerned looks Zane sends your way. Breathing in the chilly evening breeze sends a rush of delight down your spine as if injected with morphine. 

Nothing can get you down now, not even the soft rock music that begins to play in the back of your mind.

— — — — — 

A knock on your bedroom door makes you turn, thankful to be distracted from your assignment. Opening it, however, multiplies the stress tenfold. Emily stands at your door dressed in her usual nightgown, pulling the cardigan around her in an attempt to calm down. 

You remain silent, giving her the bare minimum courtesy of not slamming the door in her face at the very least. Waiting proves futile, however, and you’re unable to hold back your eye roll as she drags out what she’s trying to say.

The slight motion of you starting to close the door seems to bring her to her senses, finally revealing her intentions. “How are you feeling? I was so busy during the past few days setting up a new date for the charity fundraiser that I didn’t have the time to check on you.” She asks quickly, perhaps sensing your impatience. 

“I’m fine. Look, I’m busy doing my assignments, so what did you want to ask? Besides, my ankle already healed a couple of days ago, so you’re kinda late to the party.” Sarcasm coats each word, unbothered by the hurt that flits across her face. 

“I’m sorry…” She says quietly. You sigh, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway, keeping the door open. It’s an unspoken sign that you’re willing to hear her out, whatever it may be.

She realises this, her eyes lighting up as she seizes the chance. “Do you remember the book I mentioned during the speech? ‘You Complete Me’?” You nod, raising a brow. She moves a concealed hand from behind her back, holding out an object to you.

“I, uh, saved you a copy.” You stare at the book in her hands, recognising the name on the cover as the very book she’s talking about. “I know it’s not your usual genre, but I was hoping maybe you could give it a read sometime…?” Her voice trails off hopefully, looking at you with an almost pleading gaze.

You mull over your options. Accept it and shove it somewhere in your room? Or reject it and get scolded by your dad? 

Option one it is.

“Thanks.” You say shortly, taking the book. Delight fills her face, practically beaming when you do. She claps her hands together excitedly. “Let me know what you think when you’re done!” You wave off her words, closing the door behind you. 

She’s too happy to be hurt by your actions, and her footsteps bound down the stairs with an enthusiastic note. Sighing, you push the book into a random bookshelf, mentally deleting the memory from your head. 

Maybe you can sell it to get some money. You shake off the thought. She’d probably hear about it somehow, and that means your dad would know. You didn’t like the potential argument that would follow. 

The book shall remain holed up for all eternity, you decide.

Collapsing back into your bed, you waste no time unlocking your tablet and checking your calendar for tomorrow’s appointments. A visit to the dentist, a quick stop at Papa’s Cakeria, then a quick session at the cafe nearby to finish the assignment you leave unfinished on your desk. 

The bakery’s name makes you pause, a finger hovering over the black-coloured tag. Of course, you had to be reminded of your soulmate, now of all times. As if having his music occasionally filling your head still wasn’t horrible, the fact that you’d been overly cautious not to run into him again is a nightmare in itself.

The ninja is always around and about, and you’d already run into Zane a couple of times including earlier today. You’d met Jay once when he helped you get your purse back after a thief tried to run off with it. Well, you say helped, but in reality, he showed up just as you tackled the thief, using a random stick to beat him to a crap.

Thankfully, it seems that Cole is always updated about your location, making sure he’s never in the vicinity. Listening to music helps to gauge the distance, and though you’d never admit it out loud, you’re thankful for this soulmate ‘feature’. 

Now though, the memory of your interaction during that night haunts you. Try as you might, you can’t deny that the pan au chocolat was one of the best you’d ever had. You pull up their menu, excitement flooding your veins when you see that they sell a multitude of different cakes, including red velvet. Luckily, orders can be made in person, and the fact that your dad’s birthday is coming up is the perfect excuse to order more.

He did say that you could use his name to speed up an order as a fellow cake enthusiast… 

Biting your lip in thought, you decide to take a chance. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? You’ve already made your disdain for each other evident anyway. It’s just a one-off thing.

Musketeer [ 10:00 PM ]: Hey, it’s your soulmate here. Was just wondering if the offer to speed up an order at Papa’s Cakeria is still valid?

There. Sent. You place your phone screen-side down, unwilling to submit to impatience for his reply. A ding alerts you to a new notification, abandoning all resolve and snatching it up eagerly.

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:03 PM ]: Yeah, of course. I promised after all, even if it’s you

You raise an offended brow, your temper flaring up again as you decide whether to keep being nice. Unfortunately, your love for pastries wins out.

Musketeer [ 10:03 PM ]: That’s a relief. I need to speed up an order for my dad’s birthday cake, and I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with that

You watch the floating bubbles on the screen that indicate him typing a reply, growing frustrated when it takes longer than expected. Is he going to help you or not? 

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:07 PM ]: yea sure. What time are you heading there?

Frowning, you type a response, not thinking much of it. 

Musketeer [ 10:07 PM ]: idk like 2pm?

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:08 PM ]: ok

Musketeer [ 10:08 PM ]: wait howre you going to help me speed it up??

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:08 PM ]: youll see tmr

“You’ll see tomorrow?” You mutter in bewilderment, about to type a response. However, stubborn pride gets in the way, and you turn off your phone instead, placing it on your bedside table. A chime indicates another message, but you refuse to check it. 

Plopping your head onto the pillow with a huff, you try to quell the frustration you can feel building within you. It’s incredible how a short text exchange can get you so worked up over nothing. 

“Calm down, he’s already agreed. You’ll get your pastries soon…” You chant to yourself in the form of a mantra, finally calming down fully. Whatever. You’ll find out tomorrow, you suppose. And if not…There’s always your new friend Zane who can pass on a message in your stead. 

Satisfied with the thought of potentially exacting revenge, you begin to drift off with a smile. 

Only to be interrupted by more soft jazz in your head.

— — — — — 

“You’re back.”

Jay pauses his game, glancing over at his friend who’s just gotten out of the shower after returning from patrol. Cole raises a brow, adjusting the towel that hangs low on his waist. He grabs another, starting the process of drying his hair. 

“I didn’t get any supper this time if that’s what you’re gonna ask.” He tosses the towel he used to dry his hair at Jay, the latter letting out a screech when it lands on his face. He chuckles, taking his time to scroll through his phone. 

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, thank you very much,” Jay huffs, dropping the towel on the floor with a disgusted frown. An excited glint in his eyes is all Cole needs to see before realising that he probably wanted to talk or gossip about something. Probably gossip.

So, he puts down his phone and stares expectantly, waiting silently for his friend to start speaking. True enough, Jay immediately starts to talk about how Nya met someone new, and Master Wu taking in another student. However, the name that slips from Jay’s mouth is the last thing he expects. 

“Who?” Jay repeats your name once more with a tilt of his head, not thinking much of it until he sees the baffled look in Cole’s eyes. 

“Why? Do you know her?”

“Know her-?!” Cole stops himself from speaking, dragging a hand down his face with a frustrated groan. Every single day without fail he’d keep a wary lookout for your presence, and the moment a single note was played in his mind he’d flee from the area. “N-no, I don’t know her.”

You didn’t want him around, and it was made abundantly clear. But now, as a student of Master Wu, he’d probably get at least some of the ninjas including him to meet her!

Talk about a worst-case scenario.

He’d had just about enough. How is he supposed to get on with his life now? He sighs, wringing his head in his hands and completely forgetting that Jay’s still in the room with him. 

“What’s with him?” He recognises the voice as Nya’s, lifting his head to stare blankly at her. Jay shrugs, choosing to resume his game instead of dealing with Cole’s possible mental breakdown. 

“At least put some clothes on, damn.” She tosses a shirt at him. He puts it on without comment, running a hand through his damp hair as he tries to figure out how to deal with the bomb that Jay’s brought him. 

“Anyway, guess what?” Nya’s chirpy voice distracts him for a moment. “I met someone new today! She’s supposed to be Master Wu’s new student. She seems pretty cool, and Zane said that she’s your age, Cole!” 

Screw this. Maybe that invitation for a vacation from Vania is still valid. I could stay there for a week. Maybe a month.

Why is he even feeling this frustrated anyway? He’d done nothing to deserve this. Sure, he was a little rude or cold when you first met, but he had good reason to do so. Besides, he’s pretty sure he’s more than made up for it by quite literally saving your life.

Right?

“Cole? Did you hear me?” Jay shakes his head, nudging Nya’s side as she glances at him with concern. 

“I already told him about it, but he pretty much short-circuited when I said her name,” Jay snorts. “You’d think she’s her ex or something-”

“She’s not my ex,” Cole deadpans, glaring at Jay from the corner of his eyes. “She’s just…someone I met before.”

“Ohhh….She’s an ex alright,” Nya whispers loudly with a nod.

Giving up, Cole heads back to his room instead. Trying to reason with them would be futile. His phone buzzes limply, the screen damp from the remaining shower water on his arms. Laying on his bed, he unlocks his phone and scrolls through social media, smiling at a thank you video a few people had made for the ninja. 

The image of your figure standing close to him that night at the charity auction flashes through his mind. He tries to push it aside, but his mind keeps drifting to your sly gaze, and the playful smile that played on your lips during your conversation.

The same smile that vanished once you made eye contact with him as the Earth Ninja. 

The phone drops to his chest, placing a hand on his face and rubbing it in hopes of curing it of the intolerable pang that resonates at the memory. He never needed a soulmate before, and he definitely didn’t need one now. 

The soft fabric of the black shirt settles on his chest, bringing him some form of comfort as he wrestles with his thoughts. If Master Wu’s already accepted you, it just signals an inevitable meeting.

May as well start trying to be amicable somehow, so that no one can figure out the connection between you both.

But how?

As he tries to find a solution that would ease all his worries, the phone vibrates loudly. Picking it up, a text notification from you makes his heart drop. He slams the phone back down onto his chest, eyes wide. 

Is this a sign?

Musketeer [ 10:00 PM ]: Hey, it’s your soulmate here. Was just wondering if the offer to speed up an order at Papa’s Cakeria is still valid?

Oh, that’s right. He processes the message, remembering that he had promised before the whole theft incident took place. He sends a quick agreement, though rereading it makes him wince.

Musketeer [ 10:03 PM ]: That’s a relief. I need to speed up an order for my dad’s birthday cake, and I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with that

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:03 PM ]: ok

He deletes the message, trying different variations of agreement before finally settling on one that he decides isn’t hostile-sounding or rude. Pausing, an idea hits him. His fingers hover above the screen, barely touching the keypad. The moment of hesitation doesn’t last long, however, when he finds himself typing a response and sending it faster than he can process.

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:07 PM ]: yea sure. What time are you heading there?

Musketeer [ 10:07 PM ]: idk like 2pm?

Is he really about to take the risk? What if you grow to hate him even more? He sighs. What is there to lose? If you leave, so be it. If you never see each other again, so be it. At the very least, maybe you’d be able to reach some form of an agreement to keep things civil between you two.

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:08 PM ]: ok

Musketeer [ 10:08 PM ]: wait howre you going to help me speed it up??

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:08 PM ]: youll see tmr

He sends another thumbs up before placing the phone on his bedside table to charge. Looks like he’ll be postponing tomorrow’s patrol. 

[itsthestutterforme]

History Repeating 1/2 (Rafe x black!reader)

Summary: You get jealous that Rafe is spending more time with his bros than with you, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, some angst, some fluff

**

Your face grew hot as you watch the clock turn 7 p.m. A full two hours after what Rafe had promised.

Letting out a long huff, you stood from your chair and took your wristlet in your hand as you made your way to the front to pay for your appetizer and drink.

“No need, madam.” The waitress stated, holding her hand out when you tried to open your wallet.

“I don’t understand,” your eyebrows knitted together.

Before the waitress could further explain, Rafe walks through the door, guilt weighing on his shoulders. You knew exactly what had happened.

“He paid for your meal over the phone,”

“Yeah, I figured.. Thanks.” You gave her a polite smile before walking directly past Rafe and out of the door.

He tried to talk to you as you walked out but you merely held up a hand and continued out of the door anyway.

“Y/N. Come on,” Rafe starts, watching as you opened your wristlet and took out your car keys. “Y/N,” he repeats and you ignored him once again.

When you tried to open the car door, the keys slipped out of your hand and fell to the floor.

You let out an exasperated sigh and crouched down to get the keys but Rafe beat you to it. Taking the keys into his large hand, he offered the keys to you and you snatched them from him.

“Baby, don’t be like this.” You practically stabbed the key hole and unlocked the car door. “Baby-“

“Once- just for once, I wanted you to show up for me and just be here.”

“I know, okay? I fucked up. I lost track of time-“

“I don’t care, Rafe. I genuinely don’t care anymore.” Tears of anger blurred your vision as you sat in the drivers seat.

Rafe catches the door before you had a chance to close it. “You don’t mean that,” he starts, blocking the door from closing with his toned abdomen.

“I do mean it,” you tried your best to seem as angry as you could, but your body betrayed you.

“If you did, you wouldn’t be crying.” He adds, holding the right side of your face with his hand. He wiped away the waterfall of tears that fell when you closed your eyes.

“Let me make it up to you,” “Please,” he begs when you shook your head no.

“I think I need some space for a little while, Rafe.” He slowly dropped his hand from your face, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Is that something you really want?” You took a long pause to compose yourself.

“Yes,”

“For how long?” His heart sank to the pit of his stomach when you shrugged. “Until I’m ready to have this conversation again,” you finally spoke after a long silence.

“I’ll give you a week.” He loosens his grip on the door as he hesitates for a moment.

He dips his head into the car and leans in an inch from your face. His ogate eyes found yours for a few seconds before he examined the rest of your features.

It was like he was trying to memorize as much as he could. “I love you,” he glances down at your lips and steals a kiss from you before you could react.

Once he sees you don’t pull away from him, he holds the sides of your face and kissed you again, this time more passionately. His tongue caressing yours.

A groan turned into a whimper when he bit down harshly on your bottom lip. Your hands took in the collar of his tshirt and balled up the fabric.

When he finally pulled away, he traced your bottom lip with his thumb.

You hated that how quickly you were falling under his spell. A part of you wanted to push him away and shut the door in his face and drive away. Unfortunately, you were not that kind of person.

“I love you too, Rafe. But I mean it- I need a week of space. If you call, I won’t answer.”

“Okay,” he says, hesitantly pulling away from you and closing the door.

You spared him a single look before shifting the car into drive, watching Rafe’s shrink look smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror.

**

It’s been five days consecutively that you haven’t been answering Rafe’s texts or calls. You really did mean it when you said you wouldn’t answer his calls.

All his calls went straight to voicemail. His messages were left on delivered.

He had lost digital access to you. You even stopped sharing your location with him.

Most of the day, your phone is on Do Not Disturb unless it’s 9 am. That’s when your Mom typically wakes up and she’ll most likely need you for something.

Did she ghost me? Rafe would ask himself.

Did I go too far this time?

Realistically, he could drive by your house and wait there until you get back home. But that wouldn’t change anything.

If you weren’t anything else, you were true to your word. When you say something, you mean it.

It’s one of the many reasons why Rafe fell in love with you. You were real.

“Hello? Earth to Rafe Cameron.” Topper says, waving his hand in front Rafe’s face.

“What, dude.” He spits at him, annoyed that he was pulled out of his thoughts of you.

“The red head by the bar has been staring at you since we got here. You going to get her number or should I get it for you?” Topper asks, making Rafe roll his eyes.

“I don’t know how many times I need to say this. Me and Y/N aren’t broken up yet.”

“If a chick doesn’t speak to you for five days. It’s a wrap, dude. Come on, you have the be realistic.”

“She’s not just some chick, douche.” Rafe stands from his chair at the sports bar.

“I’m out of here,” he takes a twenty out of his wallet and sets it on the table before leaving the group.

“Their break up is going to hit him hard,” Kelce tells Topper as Rafe walks away.

“Yeah, man. All we can do is wait.”

When Rafe finally leaves the bar, he piles on his dirt bike and slid his helmet on. A thought rattles around in his head.

Sure the tequila shots were partially to blame, but what’s wrong with a little liquid courage?

Before he knew it, he was pulling up into your driveway to find only your car there. Your mom must have left for her vacation already. Which made what he was about to do that much easier.

Taking his helmet off, he shuts off his bike and walks up your driveway. Just as he was about to knock, the door flies open and you rushed out with your portfolio pad in hand and your purse and car keys in the other.

You gasped when you nearly run into Rafe’s chest. Neither of you say anything initially, you just stared at one another.

Rafe thought you looked different. You looked.. stoic, which was something he’s never seen before.

And to you, he looked defeated. Something you’ve never seen before. Both are reactions to the same emotion: hurt. So it looks like you’re learning a new side of each other.

“I’m running late, Rafe. I have to go.” You finally spoke, your voice was leveled and strong.

Rafe didn’t say anything. He just looked at you.

You stepped out of the door way and turned to lock the door. Side stepping around him, you advance down the stairs.

His window of opportunity was closing. He had to do something.

Come on, Rafe. Open up your fucking mouth.

“I don’t want to be like my dad,” he blurts out, causing you to stop in your tracks. Rafe’s chest heaves with frantic breaths.

“Look, I-I want to make this work. My idiot friends want me to find someone else because they think this,” he motions between the two of you. “Is replaceable. And I don’t know much. But one thing I do know is that this is something you only find once.”

He walks down the stairs and around you to stand in front of you.

“Why don’t you want to be like your dad?” You pressed, accepting the fact that you’re going to be late for your event as the event planner.

“Because my dad met the love of his life when he was in college. But he didn’t fight for her. He let her slip through his fingers and years later, she married someone else and built her own family. And the thought of ‘what would have happened if we’ve stayed together’ is always running through his head. He never let it go.” He starts.

“He still says her name every time he gets drunk. She’ll always be the one who got away. I don’t want that to be me- I don’t want that to be us.” He adds, taking another step toward you and you released a shaky breath.

“This is the most you’ve talk about anything,”

His gaze softened at your words, his own eyes searching yours as he contemplated his response.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. Five days worth.”

He caressed the apple of your cheek as he held your face in his hands. “I miss you, Y/N. Alright? I miss you so fucking much. I don’t want to start over with anyone else. I want to fix things with you.”

“What was her name? The one your father let get away?” “Y/M/N. Y/M/N Y/L/N.” “What?” You said, a little baffled by the new information.

“My mom was..” you trailed off and Rafe nods. “Did you know about this before we started dating?”

“No, I didn’t. I found out like five months in.”

“It’s like history is repeating itself.” You said. “It’s exactly what’s happening. Except this time, I won’t let you slip away. Because even after my dad met my mom and Rose, nothing compared to your mom.”

“I love you,” you whispered, bringing your hands up to hold his wrists. “I love you too,” he rests his forehead against yours and tears swelled in your eyes.

You silently cursed yourself because you didn’t want to ruin the make up you worked so hard on.

It’s the reason why you were late for the event in the first place- shit.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe questions, watching the gears turning behind your eyes. “I’m so late to my event right now. Um..” you trailed off when you looked into his eyes, slowly getting lost in them.

Snap out of it, Y/N. Damn.

“I have to go to this or else my client will have my ass. But, you’re more than welcome to stay until I come back.” You added.

“I’ll come with. Do you need the help?” “You want to help me coordinate an event?”

“Any time spent with you is time well spent. Where’s it at? I’ll drive you.” He said, taking your car keys in his hands.

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (11/?)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST AT THE BOTTOM! (Let me know if you'd like to be added or if I've missed you!) A/N: All filler no killer here... (this just needed to be written to serve as a segue to the next plot point. I have a 6:45 a.m. shift tomorrow yet here I am lol).

CHAPTER 11: Charlie tilts your world upside down with a question. (5.9k words)

CHAPTER 11: WINTER WONDERLAND

The sweater you were holding fell to the floor and landed by your feet. You stared blankly at Charlie who mirrored your expression with unwavering, handsome inquisition. The only thing complementing your stunned gaze was a silence that lingered for what felt like hours.

Your voice was far behind your thoughts when you spoke again. “I’m sorry,”—your lungs desperately pushed the rest of your sentence out as you tilted your head—“repeat that one more time?”

Charlie obliged your request. “I need you to supervise an exam for me. In a fortnight.” He stepped closer, feet landing in your lightly-sunned room for the first time. He swung over to you with both of his hands in his pockets. The gentle afternoon light danced over his face as he walked over. His posture was suave, his expression charming, his gaze gentle but holding a sense of assertion that left you no room to refuse his ask. “Be my invigilator.”

“For your… class?”

Charlie nodded.

After a few moments, his words began sinking into your frazzled brain. He must have thought you so stupid for taking so long to come to the conclusion: Charlie was asking you to be the invigilator for his Care of Magical Creatures class. 

You furrowed your brows. This had to be a sick joke. Fred and George probably conferred with Charlie about the argument you had yesterday. And now as some sort of sadistic revenge plot, Charlie was going to throw you into the pits of what you hated the most. Make you relive the embarrassment of being back on that field again. Your cheeks burned from the memory of your 13-year old self being laughed at as you pulled yourself away from the Hippogriff that was staring at you, your grass-stained robes billowing behind you. But would Charlie really find that funny? You thought he possessed a touch more tact than his younger brothers. 

You twisted your mouth. You were going to test the waters out without asking any questions that were too direct. “Do you really reckon I’m qualified?”

“You’re just watching over my kids as they write an exam,” Charlie explained. “Just manual labour, nothing exciting,”—he smirked—“unless you want it to be.”

You reddened immediately, then cursed yourself at your body’s lack of resistance to his words. Charlie seemed to know how to pierce your shields with some two-toned words.

Still, you wouldn’t back out. “Is there no one available at Hogwarts to invigilate?”

Charlie shook his head. “Hagrid and I are running two exams at the same time. We plan to divide the class in half. He’ll be supervising the practical component and I’ll be administering the theoretical component. After two hours, we’ll switch the groups securely, ensuring no opportunity for the students to exchange answers.”

When Charlie noted your silence, he continued: “So, no. With me and Hagrid tied up, and every other professor having snatched up possible invigilators months prior, we’re in trouble.”

You nodded silently. 

“Cat got your tongue, (Y/N)?” Charlie asked.

“No, I just—I just think I wouldn’t be the best person for this job,” you stammered. Maybe you could use this as an opportunity to gauge his relationship with Mallory. “Don’t you have friends who can help?”

Charlie lowered his eyes, blue flashing through curls of ginger, and smiled, tilting the freckles of his cheeks upwards. “I wouldn’t trust them to do half as good a job as you would.”

You frowned. “You’re absolutely mad if you think I’d do well. I have no experience in academics.”

“No, really, (Y/N), I’m serious,” Charlie assured. He planted his hand on your shoulder, engulfing the bone, and gave it a squeeze. You jolted. Those damn hands were electric no matter how hard you wished they weren’t. “I know it’s just making sure they’re well-behaved, but you’re familiar with every trick possible, aren’t you? You’ve been around my brothers long enough to see past through any possible tomfoolery.”

As you pondered, Charlie bent down and retrieved your sweater. When you handed it to you, his fingers grazed yours. Another spark. 

“Thank you,” you said as you took the sweater back in your possession. “About that… can I get back to you?”

Charlie smiled. “Sure, take your time.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

Even after Charlie had long left your room, you remained unmoving. In a physical sense, at least, because emotionally, your feelings were at war. It felt like bullets littering your chest, firing little sparks of anger. If Charlie had asked you just a week prior, you would’ve started packing at this very moment, taking only a moment’s rest to punch the air in celebration. Part of you still wanted to say yes, to rush out the door and tell him of course you were going with him. But the other part of you couldn’t pinpoint Charlie’s intentions with you and it made you anxious and wary. You wanted to scream ‘no’ and tell him he couldn’t keep doing this to you—pulling your affections in all directions like a rubber band just to snap you back in place. It hurt. Underneath it all, you felt terribly for treating Charlie this way just based on an assumption you’d made about him and Mallory. If it was false, and you’d lost your temper at Fred and George for nothing…

Fred. George. You weren’t ready to think about them just yet. You’d revisit your actions in a couple days when your mind was more logical.

Later that afternoon, you strolled back into Malfoy Manor. It was time to flip the switch. Charlie, off. Your family, on. A cold sun hovered above you, its glow painting the temperature brisk this November afternoon. The wind blew out the warmth in your hair, from the soft curls you’d teased into it. A cream sweater fell over your pleated, ankle-length dress. You hid your remaining skin with tights, and a pair of heels to finish everything off. With the tasteful silver jewellery dangling off your wrists, you were sure to slip by Aunt Rosamund’s scrutinising eyes without a word. 

It was all too silent in the manor. But you wouldn’t be alone for long. From the opposing corridor, you saw a familiar face. Half yours, half not—Draco. 

Draco’s lips were pulled straight. “We were starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“So good to see you, too, dear brother.” Your voice was deceptively saccharine, and so opposite of your unmoving face. “I so hope you’ve been well.”

“That’s revolting,” Draco barked. “Stop that.”

“But I’ve missed you so much,” you said. And what he didn’t know was that you meant it. A feeling of normalcy rushed through your bones as you looked at his disgusted expression. Your smile grew much to Draco’s displeasure. This was life before Charlie and you were nostalgic for it: being at home everyday, getting into needless arguments, and ribbing Draco.

“Get a move on,” Draco said. “You don’t want to keep our grandfather waiting.”

You stopped walking. 

“What’s he doing here?” you asked.

“Our grandfather?” Draco voice pitched with incredulity at your question, making you feel stupid. “Have you forgotten how to read letters?” 

“No, I’ve just been busy.” You kept your answer curt. Detailing your heartbreak to your brother was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Well, best of luck to you, then,” Draco offered with a scoff. 

Draco opened the door on your behalf, the languid swing unveiling a terrifying scene. Unveiling your sure death. Well, it was beautiful at first glance: a pristine, well-kept drawing room with perfectly-shined upholstery; magnificent hand-crafted paintings with sublime streaks of oil paint; ceiling-high windows cradled by velvet curtains; teacups upon doilies upon oak tables. But what disturbed you the most were the occupants in the room, and in order, your eyes swiped over your mother, your father, your grandfather, your Aunt Rosamund, her husband, Charlotte, Clara, and Dobby. Charlotte and Clara were the only ones in the room smiling which told you a lot about the state of affairs—sordid. 

Aunt Rosamund was one thing to prepare for, but Abraxas Malfoy was a different beast. 

Abraxas stood tall with a cane planted on the carpet, his velvet robe sweeping down his legs. His face was decorated with deep, menacing wrinkles. His hardened blue eyes appraised you and Draco as if surmising how much of a disappointment to the family you’d become. Not you singular—you, plural. In a rare moment of unity, the pair of you looked like deer caught in headlights. 

“Hello, grandfather,” you greeted first as usual.

“Hello, grandfather,” Draco quickly followed after. 

Abraxas acknowledged you with a curt response: “Good afternoon.”

You found your seat next to your mother, and Draco took the seat by your father. 

“Rosamund, I trust your travels were uneventful?” Abraxas asked Aunt Rosamund. 

“Yes,” your aunt responded. 

“And Charlotte and Clara are faring well at their boarding school in Switzerland?”

”I couldn’t ask any better of them.”

”(Y/N),” your mother whispered from beside you and leaned in. The concern on her face was visible as day. “Rosamund said she saw you on the streets earlier this morning. She said you looked as if you were in last night’s clothing. Is any of this true?”

”No,” you lied. “You know how dramatic Aunt Rosamund is when I have a hair out of place.”

Narcissa backed off and was seemingly satisfied with your answer. But her flittering glances towards you meant the conversation wasn’t over; it meant she herself suspected something. But you evaded her eyes and half-listened to Aunt Rosamund’s droning conversation with Abraxas. You heard bits about Charlotte and Clara’s schooling, vacations, equestrian lessons and—

“I don’t want to sit through a boring dinner tonight!” Charlotte whined suddenly. You jerked your head up to catch her pulling at her mother’s sleeve hem. “I want to see London.”

You had not mentally prepared for this herculean task of a family dinner. “Tonight?” you questioned a touch above a whisper, but it was loud enough to captivate the room. Then, your eyes widened, realising it was more than Draco or your mother that was going to chastise you for your lack of awareness. 

Luckily, you were to be saved. Before Abraxas could speak, your father coughed and drew the room’s attention to him. Lucius looked strangely frazzled, his teeth gritted and his blue eyes darting between you and Narcissa and then briefly to his own father.

“In that case, why don’t we have your cousin (Y/N) accompany you into the city tonight?” Lucius offered to Charlotte hastily.

Charlotte was starry-eyed. She looked very much like a child that had just recovered from a meltdown over ice-cream. “Really?”

“Of course, Charlotte,” Lucius appeased. “You’ve been to enough dinners. It can become rather monotonous, especially for two bright and eager minds like you and your sister.” He directed his glance towards you, not once looking at Draco, before turning to your aunt. “(Y/N) would be thrilled to show your daughters around London, Rosamund. It would be properly enriching.”

“I would?” You kept your voice below any threshold of hearing. “I don’t recall saying yes.”

“We should profit off the short time you’re spending here with us,” Lucius cooed. The sight was revolting. He continued asking his nieces: “Is there anything you want to see?”

“Clara and I would like to go to the Christmas Market, uncle, it’s just so lovely where you live,” Charlotte answered as if she was still currying a favour. What she didn’t know was that none of this had to do with her or her wishes. Lucius was hell-bent on getting you and potentially Charlie out of this dinner with Abraxas, and a refusal to any request of hers was impossible. She could ask for possession of the manor and Lucius would sign the deed.

“Oh, splendid choice,” Lucius hummed. “There are numerous restaurants I myself enjoy in that area. (Y/N) will show you around the market and you can settle down for dinner. I will make a reservation for you right away.”

“Way to plant words in my mouth,” you murmured.

“Why are you upset?” Draco snarled. “I see it as a great way to get out of dinner with grandfather. I’d volunteer to do it if I could.”

“You wouldn’t last a minute. Your gloom and their happiness,”—you gestured to your cousins who were now rushing up the stairs to change—“are not compatible. You’d die.”

“Listening to our grandfather drone on about my lack of financial planning and carrying on the family legacy is a more tortuous death.”

“Ugh, the procession planning talk. I almost feel sorry for you.” You cocked your head, expression quickly brightening. “Hm, maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.” You slapped Draco's shoulder. “Maybe if you tried to understand women more, you would’ve been chosen for the job.”

“I do understand women,” Draco scoffed. “That’s why I have Astoria, who, by the way, is invited to this dinner and not being shown out the door like a stray dog.”

You rolled your eyes and that was enough to get Draco to leave it. 

You bid your farewells before walking to the foyer to wait on your cousins. No more than ten minutes later did they come. Charlotte and Clara tumbled down the steps all dolled up and doe-eyed. If they were challenging you to a game of spot-the-difference, it was a difficult one. There was very little to pinpoint besides the colour of their plaid skirts and sweaters. Both girls took to white stockings and Oxfords, cable-knit sweaters, cloaks, and fuzzy mittens to keep warm. A bow in their hair completed the look.

You tapped the heel of your kitten heel on the marble as if to make a point. “I was hoping to change into something more suitable if we’re walking around all night.”

“Alright.” Charlotte plopped down on a plush bench by the wall. “Go ahead.”

“I meant at my apartment,” you clarified, extending a hand to Charlotte to pull her back up again. She frowned, so you added: “I live close to the Christmas market. It won’t take long.”

“You moved away?” Charlotte's eyes widened.

“I did.”

“Alright,” Clara giggled from behind you. She took your other gloved hand. “But you have to give us a tour of the place first.”

“Of course,” you agreed. You just prayed that Charlie wasn’t walking around shirtless. 

You jangled your keys with force at your door, the sharp clacks screaming down the hall. Charlotte and Clara thought nothing of it, unaware you were doing this to warn Charlie (if he was inside) that you were coming home. To give him the chance to stuff Mallory in the closet and put a shirt on himself. You thrust the key inside and turned it in an absurdly slow motion. If he didn’t hear the clacking, he would’ve definitely heard this. 

You pushed the door open and were relieved to find a quiet, empty hallway. Charlie’s door was ajar but there was no one in there, and you were glad for many reasons. Charlotte and Clara ran full speed ahead. You ran right behind them.

Charlie may or may not have been expecting you to be back, but he definitely wasn’t expecting two teenagers to be barrelling into the living room, a flurry of limbs and white-blonde hair. Luckily, Charlie wasn’t displaying qualities of exhibitionism that you imagined prior, and your cousins would maintain another day of perpetual innocence. Instead, he was sat in the living room writing. He paused mid-stroke, quill perfectly still in his hand, when the intruders presented themselves.

“(Y/N).” Charlotte turned back towards you, her voice even and not afflicted with even the slightest fear of a stranger. “Do you… have a visitor, by any chance?”

“No,” you said as you caught up to her, slightly huffing. “This is Charlie, my—”, and in looking for the most natural and palatable word, you landed on,  “—roommate. Charlie, this is Charlotte and,” you pointed behind you. “Clara.” Charlie got up from the couch. “Lovely to finally meet you. (Y/N) has spoken so much about you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Clara responded politely. 

“And mine, too,” Charlotte repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Charlie asked your cousins though his gaze was mainly on you. 

“We’re going to stroll around the Christmas Market and have dinner,” you answered on their behalf. “I had to come back for more suitable footwear.”

Charlie looked down at your shoes. “I see.”

”You should come with us!” Charlotte offered.

“Would you?” Clara echoed.

“Tonight?” Charlie questioned. After a moment of contemplation, he responded, “Sure.”

“You don’t have to if you’re busy, Charlie,” you said. 

You didn’t want to entwine Charlie into your life any further than you already had. If he was successful in charming your youngest cousins—which you were certain he was—he was going to be impossible to destitch. You’d be hearing about him for the next decade. 

“No, I’m not,” Charlie assured. “I’ll finish my letter as you change.”

Charlotte and Clara’s excitement eclipsed yours and you were grateful for it. You retreated back to your room and let your cousins marvel at the sights outside the living room window.  Navigating your feelings for Charlie was like swimming through sludge. You were not thrilled about this forced game of house. There was no doubt Charlotte and Clara were going to pry for details about you and Charlie to which you had no genuine answers, and none that excited you to think about either.

No more than fifteen minutes later, the four of you were walking down a lively street flush with market-goers. Lampposts, with red, green, and white lights snaked around them, shined at full force. Strings of gold lights criss-crossed above you. The scent of chocolate, peppermint and waffles smothered your senses.It was beautiful here, very quintessentially Christmas although you reckoned it was much too early for it. You stuck your gloved hands in your coat pockets—it was cold enough to be Christmas though. You let your cousins walk in front, marking their proximity with the long puffs of air that rose from their lips. But you didn’t need to slow them down one bit; they were stopping every few steps to take in all the lit-up buildings, signs, and food vendors. 

“This is such an interesting architecture choice,” remarked Charlotte, pointing to a brick with a chunk missing.

“Isn’t it?” Charlie entertained. “Classic English architecture.” Charlotte walked away, looking satisfied with her observation. Then, Charlie whispered to you when your cousins were out of earshot. “I’d hate to tell them the truth. Some drunk bloke probably punched it out after a night out.”

“Ouch,” you emphasised, shaking your hand.

Charlie traced over a faint scar on his hand and chuckled. “It was probably me.” The puff of air that left his left almost graced your forehead, and like a contagious touch, his laugh made you smile, too. 

“Ooh!” you heard one of your cousins exclaimed as they planted themselves at a stall. They were in the middle of combing through the menu when you caught up to them. Charlie was the first to arrive by their side. It smelt like cocoa. Your eyes trailed down the menu which confirmed your suspicions. 

“It’s rather chilly. I’d love a hot cocoa, wouldn’t you, Charlotte?” Clara asked.

“I would.”

“Want one, (Y/N)?” Charlie nudged you, interrupting you from your mindless perusing of the menu.

“Perhaps.”

“Don’t be shy,” Charlie encouraged. “Just order what looks enticing to you.”

You stepped forward towards your cousins and so did Charlie. Charlie was first to act. “Alright,” he prompted, leaning down to see at Clara and Charlotte’s level. “Go on.”

“Excuse me,” Clara said. “May I have a hot cocoa with whipped cream?”

“And I’ll have the same, but with extra marshmallows, please,” added Charlotte. 

“I’ll have the same as her,” Charlie said, pointing to Charlotte. “Excellent choice.” Then, the three looked back at you expectantly. 

Working through the disbelief that Charlie had bonded so effortlessly with your cousins, you spoke. “I’ll have a latte, please.”

“You’re so boring, (Y/N)!” Charlotte commented. 

“So boring,” Charlie repeated, getting up from his kneeling stance. He reached into his pockets and handed a handful of coins to the stall attendant. “Cheers, mate.”

You stepped forward quickly. “You didn’t have to,” you said, grasping Charlie’s arm. “This excursion is on me.” Then, you thought of the expensive dinner reservation waiting for you in about three hours. “And my father.”

“Think nothing of it,” Charlie assured. In the most casual manner, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Just making sure my ladies are taken care of.”

‘Don’t say that,’ a voice in your head screamed. You had to remind yourself that Charlie’s colloquials meant nothing to him and everything to you. 

The four of you ambled into the market with warm drinks in hand. You wondered if you gave off the impression of a family. Not that you wanted it to—you were doing this with a wand (or your father’s cane) pointed to your head. You certainly did not enjoy the idea of domesticity with Charlie. Not at all. Not a single bit. And you couldn’t even tempt yourself with daydreams because of what he’d said to Don the night of the concert, that he’d rather raise dragons instead of children. But you’d be lying if you said the interaction between him and your cousins earlier didn’t make your heart tender. 

“So, what do you do for work, Charlie?” Clara asked, looking up at him. If you thought the height difference between you and Charlie was significant, then the one between him and your cousins was comical. 

“I work with dragons in Romania.”

“With dragons? How exciting!” 

Charlotte perked up from his other side. “Is it true there are vampires in Romania? Have you seen them?”

“Well,” Charlie began. “There was that one night when I was camping alone on the outskirts of town. It was for a study on the sleep cycles of baby dragons. I thought I was alone until I heard a noise around midnight…”

He had your cousin’s full attention with his little tale. He truly was able to charm everyone he met. 

You spent the next couple hours supervising Charlotte and Clara as they ran around the fairgrounds. Charlie was a good sport, following your cousins from opposite ends of the market and sampling everything from waffles to toasties to bratwurst from stalls. After criss-crossing the grounds for the third time, you were ever so glad you’d changed footwear. 

Charlotte and Clara’s next enthralment was a stall filled with ornaments and trinkets. Clara reached over to touch a dragon ornament. It was the most ridiculous design: a baby dragon in a Santa hat blowing fire into the fireplace. But Clara was indifferent, her only concern being who it might be a gift for. “This is perfect for you, Charlie.”

“You think so?” Charlie asked.

“I do,” Clara said as she unhooked the ornament from its wooden peg. She looked around some more until she landed on a pair of red peony earrings. She unhooked the jewellery and whispered, “Perfect.”

“Is that for Charlie too?” you joked. Charlie pulled at his earlobe. You laughed. 

“No,” Clara clarified. “This is for you, (Y/N).”

“Why’d you choose that for (Y/N)?” Charlie asked.

“Because peonies represent romance and happy marriages,” Clara stated without missing a beat. 

Charlotte stifled a laugh into her mittens.

”What do you mean by that?” you asked quickly.

“I shouldn’t tell you right now,” Clara said slyly. “It might be a little embarrassing, especially since Charlie is here, too.”

“How do you know what the flower symbolises, Clara?” Charlie asked.

“I’ve been very curious about botany recently,” she said. 

“Tell me more about it,” Charlie encouraged.

As Clara began rambling on about flowers, you racked your mind for any moment in time where you’d mentioned a relationship or marriage to your cousins. Nothing came to mind. Charlie looked unaffected and didn’t prod further. You decided to leave it. 

After Clara made her purchases, you proceeded to the centre of the park which was flush with rides. You looked up at one of them, an intimidating structure with loops of upside down hell and—

“I’ll sit and wait,” you offered with a step back towards the bench.

“Are you sure? It’s your loss,” Charlie asked, his head tilting towards you. From your peripheral, you saw his blue eyes looking down at you and his lips curling into a smile. He left so little distance that you were nervous to turn around in case you’d accidentally kiss him. 

You were glad your cousins were preoccupied with watching the coaster run and listening to the screams of the people on it.

”I’m sure,” you said before sitting down.

“I’ll take Charlotte and Clara,” Charlie volunteered. 

You’d become the girls’ personal porter shortly afterwards, their little handbags looped around your arms and their purchases on your lap. You kept an eye on them even though you didn’t have to—Charlie was ushering them from exit to entrance, never giving them more than a metre’s advantage.

You didn’t understand how Charlie could be content with being here, taking care of barely-teenagers who never stopped talking. You didn’t understand why he’d invited you to go to Hogwarts to invigilate his exam unless it was a cruel joke. The only thing that abated the tension in your chest was watching his ginger curls whip around in circles on the teacup ride. Every so often, you’d get a millisecond of his face, of Charlie mid-laugh, looking like a child himself. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have been so hard on him earlier. 

There wasn’t much time to reflect on that as the ride came to a stop moments later.  “I’m nauseous,” Clara grumbled as she stumbled towards you.

“Maybe dinner will settle your stomach,” you suggested with a smile and placed a hand on her back.

You should’ve known dinner was going to be the crux of the chaos. 

The maître d'hôtel’s face hid nothing. His judgemental expression was rude, and it was clear he was having a hard time grasping the reservation and the relationship between the guests. Four under Malfoy. You were the Malfoy. The quirk of his eyebrow begged to know who Charlie was in relation to you. And his tightly-pressed lips made the inference that your cousins were your daughters. Their childlike appearance wasn’t helping anything. But luckily, nothing came out of it and you were promptly seated. You ignored the couple of glances tossed at you as you walked down the restaurant. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you sunk into the chair. The sound of fresh wine being poured into your glass was soothing after a long day. You had just to get through this last thing and you could go home under the guise of escorting your cousins back to the manor. You wouldn’t have to explain to Charlie why you weren’t coming back to the apartment nor would you have to tell your parents why you were home. In a way, Aunt Rosamund’s untimely arrival was blessed. 

“Do you know what this reminds me of?” Charlotte asked suddenly.

“What does it remind you of?” Charlie asked. 

“Genevieve’s wedding,” Charlotte chirped happily, gesturing to the seats around the round table. “We were sitting with (Y/N) just like this.”

“And you were drinking the same thing,” Clara recalled. “But Draco was sitting next to you.”

You nodded slowly, cautious of where this was going. “It does look familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Except you cried your eyes out at Genevienve’s wedding!” Charlotte exclaimed suddenly, like her lips had been sewn shut and she finally managed to rip the seams. Your wine glass shuddered at her timbre. Her outburst caught the attention of everyone within a metre range. A couple of heads from the other tables whipped around at the commotion.

“I did not!” you scolded quietly. You avoided Charlie’s curious glance and focussed on holding your cousin’s hand in restraint. 

“(Y/N) doesn’t remember because she was drinking too much, Charlie,” Clara informed with a giggle. 

“I can see that,” Charlie agreed.

Great, you didn’t have enough hands to hold back all three of them. “I wasn’t drinking that much,” you retorted. Comparatively, to your family members.

“(Y/N) and Genevieve usually look like they want to strangle each other, but they were crying into each other’s arms by the end of the night,” Charlotte added. Then, she twisted her mouth to change her voice. “Genevieve, I’m so happy for you. Max is such a great guy.”

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), it will happen for you, too,” Charlotte imitated again in an uppity-tone to play the role of Genevieve. She swatted the air to mime Genevienve patting your back. And then she reverted back to her impression of you. “At this rate, I will die alone. But tonight is all about you, dear cousin.”

Now that you thought about it, this definitely did happen back in August. But you didn’t think anyone was actually listening. Just how loud were you?

“What we’re saying is that she does care greatly about things like marriage,” Clara clarified with a self-satisfied shimmy. “And a peony is perfect for it. Just saying.”

Charlie nodded. “Thank you, Clara.”

“You’re very welcome, Charlie,” Clara responded. 

Clearly, Clara thought she was doing you a favour. You peeked around for any sign of your food and was distraught to find no sign of the waiter. This night couldn’t be over sooner.

But it wasn’t. 

After dinner, Charlotte and Clara wanted to explore the grounds further. Things were more fun when the crowds thinned, they proclaimed. By now, it was close to 10 p.m. Out of everyone here, you were the only one panicked—you were going to be serious shit if you didn’t bring the girls back to the manor soon. Lucius was going to be in one ear with Aunt Rosamund in your other. However, you hadn’t received any owls requesting their return yet, so you could gamble another half hour or so.

Charlotte and Clara were dragging you and Charlie to the ferris wheel now. You looked up at the brilliant spinning sphere. You made them promise that this was their last ride because you were hightailing it home after. They agreed.

The attendant, some tall and lanky teenager, ushered people onto the steps and guided them into the proper carriage. Each vessel fit four, enough for all of you, or so you thought.

“Mhm, we’d like our own carriage,” Clara said, slipping in with Charlotte and motioning for the attendant to close the door. “See you later, (Y/N).”

Charlie answered for you: “Bye.”

Awkwardly, you waited for the next carriage to dip down. You shuffled inside with Charlie who didn’t seem to mind being alone with you. You sat as the attendant shut the door. Charlie stretched out his legs until the sole of his shoe met the base of the opposite seat; you couldn’t do that if you tried. The moonlight filtered in and out as you rose in the air. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself: three rotations and you’d be done. You could go home and forget today ever happened. 

There was a nudge at your side. Charlie. “Thank you for letting me tag along,” Charlie said. “I’ve had fun beyond my expectations.”

“I should be thanking you. You are such good company for my cousins. They find you thoroughly entertaining.”

Charlie exhaled and chuckled. “I can only hope I did a decent job.”

Your expression softened. His words always found a way to pull a smile out of you, especially when they were earnest. You preferred this side of him, and it made you want to do terrible things like be vulnerable with him. Say yes to his proposition. Run off to Hogwarts for the better half of a week with him.

Your feelings for Charlie were volatile, ever-changing on an hourly basis. It felt so good to soar high then crash.  Maybe you were a fiend for adrenaline. And you could feed that monster further if you agreed to his proposition. You kicked your legs back and forth anxiously, slightly swaying the carriage. 

“We’re going to fall out if you keep doing that,” Charlie commented coolly. 

“I’m expecting you to save us both.”

“You think highly of me,” he said. 

Out of some sense of curiosity and mischievousness, your hand travelled to lay on top of his. “I do.”

“Even for someone who’s just your roommate?”

You pouted. He was mocking your introduction of him to your cousins earlier this evening. “It was the only suitable word, unless you want to explain everything to them.”

“I was hoping I’d be more than just a roommate,” Charlie chuckled. “And you should do the honours of explaining everything to them. It was your idea.”

“It wasn’t my brightest,” you admitted. “Now, I really do feel like falling out of this carriage.”

“No,” he corrected. All of a sudden, his hand slipped out from under yours, latched on, and pulled. Your silky dress glided on the plastic seat, the lack of friction making it stupidly easy for you to crash against his body. Your body slanted towards his, and the warmth of his chest spread against your shoulders. His breath fanned your cheek as he said, “If you go, we’ll go together.”

“I’ve never heard anything more romantic,” you said, rolling your eyes. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Charlie. 

“That’s what I’m known for,” Charlie boasted. Then, he squeezed your hand curiously. “You feel cold. Are you?”

“Erm, I haven’t been, so, I don’t think—”

“It must be the elevation change,” Charlie concluded. He pulled you just the slightest bit closer. “It’s a good thing I’m naturally warm-blooded.”

When his embrace sent a rush of heat through your body, you were inclined to agree. Any joke you wanted to make was lost on your tongue. The carriage began to descend and when you looked down, you saw two little blonde heads.

“(Y/N)?” Charlie’s voice was cutting despite him talking in a near-whisper; the distance it had to travel was not far at all.

“Yes, Charlie?”

Any trace of intelligible thought disappeared when his eyes locked with yours. You couldn’t have been more than a couple inches apart, and you felt as if your eyelashes would interlace if you dared blink. Your stomach lurched as you thought about what he was going to ask of you. He might ask to kiss you (again). He might tell you he was tired of the charades and this was going to be the last time you saw each other.

“What I asked you earlier, about coming to invigilate with me—”

Your heart dropped suddenly like the ride Clara had gotten sick on earlier. He was going to admit that it was all a joke. 

“What about it?”

“Would you give it some serious consideration? I would really like you to come.”

Your lips parted in surprise. If this was a joke, then Charlie was committing to the bitter end.

“It would be as good for you as much as it would be good for me,” he promised. 

What did he mean by that? 

“Of course,” you said. You had to will yourself not to say yes this moment. I’d love to go with you. “I’ll let you know soon.”

When the carriages descended, you retrieved your cousins and proceeded towards the exit of the fairgrounds  Charlotte, in secret and while holding your hand, asked if you had kissed Charlie at the apex of the ride which you vehemently denied. She didn’t seem to believe you and pointed out that your cheeks were really, really red. Leave it to the barely-teenager to be more scrupulous than you. Maybe you should be asking her what to do about Charlie. As you realised the answer would probably be, ‘just marry him!’, you knew you needed to go about  this yourself. 

>> NEXT CHAPTER (COMING SOON)!

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

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[slutforleeminho]

touch me • hwang hyunjin

a little something since i haven’t been active

“please..” the plea was airy and could barely be heard, no louder than a whisper. “touch me.”

hyunjin had come home from work wearing his usual work attire, well fitted dress pants and a white button up shirt. his hair was fixed nicely before he left this morning but now it was loosely hanging from his scalp with a few flyaway hairs poking out.

nothing was really out of the ordinary except for his watch. you always knew you had in unhealthy obsession with hyunjins hands but something about that watch made you have one too many unholy thoughts. it just made him look so professional and put together. in other words you wanted to drag him to the bedroom and have him fing-

“what’s wrong, doll? you seem quiet, what’s on your mind?” he was opening the fridge to grab the unfinished bottle of wine from the night before. you couldn’t take your eyes off of the way his fingers wrapped around the glass he was pouring the red liquid into.

“oh uh nothing really. is that a new watch? i’ve never seen it before.” you tried to sound as nonchalant as you possibly could.

“oh this?” he held up his wrist to give you a better view. “my boss gifted it to me last week after a very long meeting. he said i “deserved it after having to sit through this hell” as if i don’t get paid to do that. anyways, why? does it look bad? damn i knew it didn’t suit me.” he flipped his hand over to unbuckle it and take it off.

“no!” you reached your hand out to stop him but quickly became self aware and stopped before touching him. he looked at you in confusion as he halted his actions. you cleared your throat and tried to come up with some kind of excuse for your outburst. “i mean.. no it looks good, you should wear it more often.”

he stayed silent for a moment, taking in your response and observing your body language. he tilted his head slightly to the right, looking you up and down while taking his bottom lip in between his teeth. before you could muster up something to say he circled around the kitchen island and walked straight up to you. when he was too close for comfort you took a step back, only to have your lower back press against the counter. he filled in the last couple feet in distance, leaning in and placing both his hand on either side of you on the counter. his face kept inching closer and closer to yours, you thought he was leaning in to kiss you until he swerved his head to the left, right next to your ear. “tell me what’s really on your mind, love.”

a shiver ran down your spine at his deep and raspy voice. hyunjin knew you had a thing for his hands but that didn’t make it any easier voicing your wants to him, but tonight was different, desire was bubbling in the pit of your stomach and the stickiness forming in your underwear couldn’t go unnoticed. “i- just- you know i-”

“baby,” he cut you off, his big palms cupped your cheeks. “it’s just me, you can tell me anything.” it was a sweet reassurance but there was a hint of teasing in his voice, leading you to assume he already knows what you want.

“you know what i want, hyun.”

“i do,” the warmth of his hands fell from your face but settled around you neck, not applying any pressure, just resting there. “but i want to hear you say it.” his gaze on you was hot and burning holes into you, he was awaiting your response and would not continue until you used your words.

“i want your fingers inside of me.” you didn’t feel embarrassed by your words cause you knew it was exactly what he wanted to hear.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” not wasting anymore time he immediately slipped his hand into your shorts, rubbing circles on your clothed clit. you gasped at the sudden feeling and gripped onto hyunjins biceps to steady yourself. he applied more pressure until your wetness was seeping through the thin material, making a mess out of you. he moved the crotch of your underwear to the side and brushed the tips of his fingers through your folds, collecting your essence to bring it to your clit and form little figure eights on it.

his ministrations already had your head spinning and breathing heavy, chest heaving in attempt to inhale as much oxygen as possible. as good as everything he was giving you felt, you still felt empty and wanted more. “please..” you had to pause to catch your breath and collect yourself before speaking again, although he wasn’t making it easy by brushing his lips against your neck and then sucking harshly on your sensitive skin. a moan slipped past your lips and just like that you couldn’t remember what it was that you wanted. but he did.

his middle finger circled your entrance a couple of times before slowly pushing in to fill you. your walls clenched around him and your head fell onto his shoulder as a stream of curse words and moans escaped from you. he pumped it in and out of you at just the right pace and entered a second one once you adjusted. he was hitting all your good spots and curling them at just the right times making you weak in the knees. his left hand was placed right above the curve of your ass, guiding you to fuck yourself on his fingers.

“does that feel good, baby?” your weak nod was the only response. “ i bet it does, i can feel that you’re close. why don’t you just come all over my hand hmm? make a mess everywhere, doll. i want you to.” every muscle in your body tensed up as your orgasm hit you hard, the hot white pleasure making you shake in his arms. you could feel the consequences of your orgasm start to run down your inner thighs and you just knew you had ruined the watch that had made you this needy in the first place. once your muscles relaxed and hyunjin pulled his fingers out of you, both of your legs gave out. he held you up by his arm that was already wrapped around you and pulled you flush against his chest. out of the corner of your eye you saw him bring the fingers that were just stuffed inside of you to his mouth, taking each one in between his lips and licking them clean, and just as you suspected.. the watch was covered in your release. afterwards bringing that arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“all better, love?” he kissed the crown of your head.

“all better.”

not proofread

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