#I just have always been terrible at tagging people in these sorts of things

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent images I suppose ~

[starlightkyeom]

all the petty scenes & all the pretty things | hjs

(where your best friend organizes a weekend away for all your single friends on valentine's and you have to deal with his very annoying roommate)

pairing: joshua hong x f!reader genre: (one-sided) enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers (kinda) | smut & fluff rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: 20.5k warnings: mentions of food and alcohol, drinking games, this is vaguely a long valentine's weekend (the holiday is barely mentioned), best friend jeonghan (yes, that's a warning), joshua is a menace, but reader is a bit of an unreliable narrator, so much kissing, multiple sex scenes, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (they talk about it but don't do this), oral sex (f. receiving), some scratching, teasing, briefest edging?, aftercare, nipple/breast play, briefest mention of thigh riding, come eating, idk joshua is just pussy whipped and down horrendous

a/n: another one for the Lonely Hearts Collab organized by the incredibly talented @camandemstudios. please make sure you check out the other amazing fics (like i will be now that i've gotten through both). i'm not really sure what to say about this. something happens when i write joshua and it just...gets away from me. thank you to @tomodachiii, @highvern, and @lovetaroandtaemin for sprinting with me at the end to keep me motivated. and thank you to @100vern for supporting whatever characterization of joshua i wanted.

tag list at the end (join here)

When your best friend, Jeonghan, suggests going away as a group of friends for a Valentine’s trip, you don’t really ask any questions. He says that he wants the trip to be more about friendships than romantic relationships and that sounds great since you’re single at the moment. You don’t hate the holiday or anything. It’s just nice to know that you’ll have something to do that doesn’t revolve around whether or not you’re dating someone. And he says that it’s all going to be planned and all you have to do is show up. Sounds pretty good to you. You give him your budget so that he can find something that works for everyone and pretend you actually had the option on whether you agreed. You don’t have the option, you know, because Jeonghan wasn’t asking. Besides, Jeonghan has been your best friend for years, so you know that it’ll be fun.

It occurs to you when the trip gets closer that Jeonghan is your best friend and you really should know to ask for more details. You know better. Part of that includes just which friends that he’s invited to this trip or if there are any that you’re not also friends with. Generally speaking, Jeonghan has excellent taste in friends. He’s intentional with his time, always has been. It also usually takes him time to get comfortable with newer people. So, when he counts someone as a close friend, you typically know it’s someone that you’re also going to like. It’s why you have nearly identical friend circles. The one exception? His new roommate that you actually cannot stand. 

A few months ago, someone new moved into Jeonghan’s apartment after his old roommate and a close friend of both of yours, Wonwoo, moved out to live with his girlfriend. Enter Joshua. At first appearance, he’s kind, patient, artistic, and funny. Nothing that raises any sort of red flags. All your friends seem to like him immediately and none of them can seem to understand your beef with him. Especially since he never has anything negative to say about you. It makes you feel a little crazy. But, you know that you’re not. You know that this man may be just as petty as you and you know that sometimes he fucks with you just because he can. Never anything malicious. He’s not actually a terrible person. He just seems to delight in the fact that you don’t like him and that your friends give you a hard time over it. Can’t understand your issue when so many of them also love to fuck with you. 

You consider backing out when Jeonghan conveniently lets you know exactly who’s coming a few days before leaving. Up until that point, he was relatively vague. Just the standard group of friends you hang out with. Nobody that creates any sort of problems. He reminds you, when you want to back out, that the deposit is already down on the rental house and the activities are already set. You’re locked into time off from work regardless of going or not. Plus, all the rest of your favorite people (the single ones, at least) will be there so why not just go on the trip anyway? What’s the worst that can happen?

You think you’re going to be revisiting that conversation a lot over the course of the trip.

By the time the trip actually comes around, you’re looking forward to it. So what if Joshua is going to be there? It’s a decent sized group going and the listing for the house you’re staying in is beautiful. There are plenty of places for you to hang out without being on top of someone you don’t like that much. Plus, the shortened week leading up to the trip has crawled by. You need this break. Haven’t really had one since the new year started. Thankfully, you’re able to get done with your work on time and are out the door without giving anyone the chance to add more work onto your plate. 

When you get into your car a few minutes later, after changing into something more comfortable for the ride, you take a deep breath. Half an hour later, you have another of your closest friends, Jennie, in the front seat and the pair of you are off to your getaway. You’re happy that it’s just you and her because at least she hears you out on not liking Joshua. Doesn’t really have any suggestions, but she’s a good ear and an even better partner in crime for the drive up. She has playlists ready, snacks packed, and even a little cooler of drinks. All of that means that you only have to stop once for a bathroom break, to get a little more gas, and to see if you can get something more resembling actual food. The car ride itself is uneventful. 

Once you get to the house? Not so much. Based on the cars already there, you think that you and Jennie might be the last ones to show up. That only feels confirmed when you get into the house and everyone is already spread out and making themselves at home. Jeonghan is quick to come over, a little bit of alcohol on his breath, and welcome you. He lets you know that rooms aren’t decided yet and they wanted to make sure you were there before assigning anything. 

And of course, in typical Jeonghan fashion, he has to make it a game for you to figure out where you’re all going to be sleeping. Everyone gets a quick chance to look through the rooms and see which they might want. Of course, you instantly fall in love with the feel of one room. It shouldn’t matter but the colors feel relaxing, the artwork on the walls is your style, and the beds feel comfy. You give Jennie a look that clearly says you should try to share it. Which shouldn’t be an issue because it’s not even the fanciest room. Once you all look at the rooms, you draw for numbers and Jeonghan explains that you’ll go in order and stand in the room you want. If more people want a room than it fits, then they’ll have to come up with a way to decide who gets it. It’s kind of silly, but everyone seems into it and you just go along. Find yourself getting a little excited when you get to go second, too. 

When it’s your turn, you head straight for the room you want and let out a sigh of relief seeing it’s empty. Jennie has a higher number, so you’ll have to wait to see what happens. It seems like everything is going to go well until Joshua walks into the room with that obnoxious smile on his face. You figure he’ll turn around when he sees you. Instead, he smiles more and plops himself down on the free bed. You are determined not to say anything to him and just wait for Jennie to come along. Only…she never does. Jeonghan calls through the house to say that everyone has picked their rooms and to figure it out if there are too many people in the room.

“You look confused,” he observes and the furrow in your brow deepens. 

“I was expecting…” you start and shake your head.

“Jennie?” he asks and you frown. “I mentioned that I also really wanted this room and she said she would try for a different room since I was before her.”

“Traitor,” you say under your breath. 

“What’s that?” he asks, clearly amused.

“Nothing,” you say. “You could have picked another room, too, you know.” 

“All we have to do here is sleep. The beds in this room are the most comfortable and they’re facing the right way. The decorations are relaxing enough that it'll be easy to fall asleep. I want this room,” he says. 

“But, I’m here,” you say kind of lamely. 

“Not the same problem it is for me that it is for you. You’re welcome to switch with someone else, though,” he says.

“Not a…you hate me,” you say incredulously. 

“No, I don’t. Why would you think that?” Joshua asks and you just blink at him. 

“Because you’re always fucking with me,” you say stupidly. 

Joshua tsks with that infuriating smile still firmly in place. “I promise, sweetheart, I don’t hate you and I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“But…” you start as he gets to his feet. 

“I’m going to get my bags. Do you want me to grab yours as well?” he asks. You try to splutter out a response which only makes him smile more knowingly. 

Once you gather your thoughts, you also get up to get your own bags. He may have thrown you off for a second, but you’re stubborn and you’re not letting him win at this. You’re not really sure what game he’s playing or why he’s messing with you this way. You’re also not sure why Jennie let you fall into this situation without so much as a fight. That’s a conversation for later when you know that you won’t be overheard. For now, you’re going to get settled in the house and have a very large drink. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, after all, and you’re going to need all of your strength. 

Your first night goes much easier than you expect. There are enough people that you don’t have to directly interact with your new roommate for the trip. Then, you’re asleep before Joshua comes to bed. Somehow, he’s already out of bed before you get up. A sure sign that you managed to get peaceful sleep. Another sign that you made the right call with the bedroom. It just feels really relaxing. That peace lasts as long as it takes you to get dressed and head out into the kitchen area for coffee. Joshua looks like he’s holding court as he uses the unnecessarily elaborate coffee machine to fill everyone’s orders. And like every other time, they all look completely happy to have him around. You cannot understand it. This is the man that’s been terrorizing you since moving in with Jeonghan and acting like he’s an innocent little angel. Constantly telling you that he would never be chaotic or a menace. It makes you insane. 

(Terrorizing is an incredibly strong word and the rational part of you knows that. Knows that he’s not some evil demon sent from Hell to fight with you, specifically. Knows he doesn’t fuck with you anymore than someone like Jeonghan does. The irrational part of you has decided that fighting with him is the hill you’re willing to die on. That irrational part doesn’t even consider there could be a reason for him acting the way he does with you.)

“Oh this is so cute!” Jennie says as he hands over her mug with perfect latte art. You didn’t realize this was some fancy coffee house set up. 

Joshua smiles soft, the kind that he never shows you, and pushes his glasses back up his nose. Nobody should be allowed to look that good while wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt. But, he’s got that just rolled out of bed look that would work if you didn’t hate everything about him. His eyes land on you and his smile changes entirely. You think it looks like he’s up to something. Jennie turns around and catches sight of you.

“Babe! You have to let Shua make you coffee. Look how cute this is!” she squeals and shows off her cup as you walk over to her. 

“Shua?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. 

“Don’t worry, you can still just call me Joshua,” he says like he’s doing you a favor.  

“How about Satan?” you ask under your breath. 

His face lights up with that all-too-common look of mischief and you know he heard you. “You know, I prefer Lucifer, actually.” 

“Why is that?” you ask. “They were the same.” 

“In theory, maybe. But, we talk more about Lucifer being a fallen angel than Satan. Plus, it just sounds better, especially when you add Morningstar onto the end. Just a fallen star,” he says and you roll your eyes. He turns back to the coffee machine. “Coffee?”

“Are you asking me?” you say and look around. Everyone else seems to have coffee already. 

“Who else?” he answers with a question of his own. A challenge implicit in the words

“I can make my own, thanks,” you say. “You might put salt into it instead of sugar.” 

He turns around, a lock of faux outrage on his face. “Wow.”

“Come on. Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” Jennie asks. It’s just the three of you at the kitchen island. 

“Oh, coming from the traitor,” you say without any real heat to it. 

Jennie shrugs, entirely unashamed. “I’m sharing with Seungcheol. He doesn’t snore and he might’ve had to share the bed with Mingyu otherwise. When Joshua said he wanted your same room, I didn’t feel like fighting when I still might lose.”

You sigh at her and Joshua just watches the exchange with more interest than you expect. “So, where are we on letting me make your coffee?”

“Fine,” you say with another sigh. 

Jennie only chuckles under her breath as she gets up off the stool, coffee in hand. “Enjoy.”

Joshua looks at you with the same annoying smile and asks how you like your coffee. You answer him while saying as little as possible and he’s off to work. It’s a nice break once he turns around. He can’t give you shit while he’s focusing so hard on the drink. For a second, you even forget to watch the ingredients he uses. He’s so peaceful. Thankfully (for you, at least), you shake yourself out of it before he turns back around with your mug. 

“Here,” he says and hands it over with the sly smile he saves for you. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

It’s casual, the way he says it. Like the way you would say it to an acquaintance or even a newer friend. Certainly not the way you expect him to say it to you. Actually, you don’t expect to hear him say it at all. You roll your eyes for the hundredth time. “Thanks, you too.”

His eyes are still on you and it’s unnerving. “Aren’t you going to try it?”

The alarm bells go off in your head. It’s so easy to imagine him fucking with you. It’s not like you could see through his body to know what he was doing while making the coffee. If you say anything now, though, and it’s a normal cup, then you’ll be the one who seems crazy. All that’s left to do is (begrudgingly) take a sip. Which you do. It takes everything in you not to give away that it’s the best cup of coffee in your life. How does he manage to make it taste so good? How does he get perfect portions of everything? 

You must not totally control your face because he smiles again like he can read your mind. Then he prompts the answer he must already know. “So?”

“It’s not bad,” you say noncommittally.

“Not bad?” Seungcheol asks. It’s beyond you how that man manages to sneak up on you. Makes you start a little. He only chuckles at that and puts a hand on your arm to steady you. “Sorry, I thought you heard me.”

“It’s fine,” you say with a smile. After all, you don’t have beef with him. Jeonghan, maybe, and Joshua, definitely, but not Seungcheol. You can’t blame Jennie for saving him from sharing a bed with Mingyu when Mingyu sleeps like a starfish.

“This is the best coffee I’ve ever had. I want to pay him to just make me a cup whenever I need it,” he jokes. 

Joshua shrugs, feigning a humility that you know he doesn’t feel. It’s the version of him that everyone else but you seems to get. It just feels so fake. Doesn’t occur to you that maybe it’s all the real him. That he could be both a chaos demon and a genuinely nice person all at once. Or maybe you’re getting the fake version of him. 

“It’s nothing,” Joshua says, like the compliment makes him shy. “I worked as a barista while I was in school. Got pretty good at it because it meant better tips.” 

“You know, maybe we should talk about you opening a coffee shop. I know some people who might want to invest and you’re wasting away in an office job. You’re much better around people,” Seungcheol says. 

You snort and quickly cover it. Although Seungcheol seems to second guess what he heard, one look at Joshua tells you he knows. His face is even again by the time the other man looks back. Leave it to Seungcheol and his giant heart to want to help someone who may not even deserve it. Before you can say anything else, you excuse yourself from the conversation with a final forced thank you. You don’t want to spend the whole weekend feeling crazy any time someone sees you bickering with Joshua.  With a whole weekend like this, he’s bound to show his true colors. And you’ll be waiting for that moment. No, you don’t think that’s crazy at all. It’s just how it has to be.

The rest of the morning and afternoon pass in kind of a blur. You and Jennie offer to do the big grocery shopping trip to get everything on the communal list. There had been a little bit of food, some drinks, and plenty of coffee. But, you need food for the rest of the weekend, especially with tonight being a meal in the house to avoid the insanity of Valentine’s Day crowds. Shopping the night before just hadn’t been on the agenda either. So, you and Jennie head out to brave any last minute shoppers with a (slightly longer than expected) list of what you think you’ll need the rest of the weekend.

Once you get back, Jeonghan is quick to take over while ushering you off to hang out in the living room. You’re not sure if he unpacks the groceries, or, more realistically, gets someone else to handle it. That’s definitely something nice about having a house full of people. There’s no shortage of helping hands. It’s just nice to get to sit for a minute. The grocery store had been busier than expected. You don’t mind crowds, neither does Jennie. There’s just something about holidays that seems to bring out the worst in those that are out last minute. 

It seems like people have scattered while you were at the store. The weather doesn’t quite feel warm enough to be outside. It is sunny, though, and that seems like enough to pull some of your friends outside to kick a ball around. Definitely not something that appeals to you. Instead, you drift over to join Jun and Jeonghan playing a boardgame. Most of your friends have a rule against playing games with Jeonghan because he’s not above cheating for fun. Or just to win since he can be competitive. That’s never been a rule you bothered with. It’s just as fun for you to see his reactions when you don’t react to his cheating. That can be more fun than the game itself. Besides, you’re pretty good at a lot of the games he plays. It’s a safe option while Joshua is outside. 

Eventually, Jun has to excuse himself from your games. Not really a big loss to Jeonghan since Jun really only joined for the vibes and because running around outside felt like too much work. As the afternoon slips away, he leaves to join Mingyu in the kitchen. The two of them are tackling dinner for the entire group. A fact you’re all happy with since they’re both incredible cooks. You, personally, are less excited when Joshua plops into Jun’s vacated seat, freshly showered after being outside. His hair is still wet as he shakes it out a little and runs a hand through it to get it out of his face. 

“What’s with the glasses today?” Jeonghan asks and Joshua rolls his eyes. 

“I wear glasses a lot. Are you saying that you’re not just always staring at my face?” Joshua retorts. Jeonghan is the only other person Joshua ever messes around with. But, it’s very different than with you. Those two banter. Sass each other back and forth. Joshua genuinely fucks with you. At least, that’s how it feels to you.

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at his roommate and glances over at you for some reason. Even as long as you’ve been friends, you still can’t read the look on your best friend’s face. It looks like he’s putting something together and you have no idea what. Aren’t sure you want to know, honestly. He and Joshua may not have been roommates long, but Jeonghan considers them two peas in a pod. Yet, somehow everyone knows Jeonghan is a demon with a kind heart, while nobody thinks Joshua is anything but sweet. 

“Please tell me you didn’t wear glasses so…” your best friend starts, only to be quickly cut off. 

“I thought we were playing games over here,” Joshua interrupts. Although Jeonghan narrows his eyes, he doesn’t comment further. Weird. 

“I’ll leave the roommates to it,” you say flatly and start to stand up. Jeonghan grabs your arm gently, so you could pull away if you wanted. It’s just to get your attention.

“Come on, you can’t abandon us. The games are more fun with more than two people,” he says. Gives you that angelic smile you still haven’t figured out how to ignore after years of friendship.

“I was going to…” you start and trail off when a good excuse eludes you.

“What?” Jeonghan challenges with that sparkle in his eye. “Help in the kitchen? Watch whatever Jennie is trying to teach Cheol? Let Soonyoung corner you the way he probably cornered Jihoon and Sana to talk about his idea to adopt a tiger?” 

“He’s a menace,” you protest weakly, glancing briefly at Joshua. He’s been watching the exchange with clear interest and this makes him laugh.

“Jeonghan is your best friend!” he says while holding back a laugh. 

“Yeah, but everyone knows he’s a menace,” you start.

“Hey!”

“Oh you are, Hannie, don’t deny it.” 

“Still.” He pouts at you and you know it means he’s not actually upset. He is a menace and the most loyal person you know. It’s fine. 

“You, on the other hand,” you say, turning to Joshua. He gives you a look of polite interest. “You’re a menace and everyone thinks you’re an angel.”

“I am an angel,” he says with a shrug.

“Every day the universe tests my patience,” you say under your breath. 

“Just play with us,” Jeonghan says and you sigh.

“Fine.”

In some ways, it is actually funnier than playing with Jun. Joshua tries to be stealthy as he cheats, but you’re best friends with Jeonghan and you’ve absolutely seen it all. The normal rules go out the window and you all try to see who can be the sneakiest in cheating for an advantage. Your best friend receives a shock with how well you keep pace. Not that it should be surprising. You pick things up with Jeonghan in your life. Despite how much fun you’re having, you stop just short of admitting that. Can’t let Joshua have the satisfaction. 

Eventually, it’s time for everyone to head back to their rooms to get ready for dinner. Even though you’re staying in, everyone wants to get dressed up. Pretend you’re all fancy for no real reason. You let Joshua go back to the room first. He and Sana are relieving Mingyu and Jun so that they can also get ready for dinner. At least you have the confidence neither of them will burn anything. He’s changed by the time you return to the room and sit down on your bed to do your makeup. 

“Trying to impress someone?” he asks, voice low in a way that’s unfamiliar to you. 

It makes you glance up at him sharply, searching to understand the tone. He doesn’t have his standard sly grin on his face and it’s a little disarming. Instead, he’s studying your face. “Sometimes I just like to look nice.” 

Joshua turns to grab his watch and says something under his breath. Something so quiet that you can’t hear it even looking right at him. Can’t read his lips either since you’re looking at his profile. He seems so concentrated and, for once, unguarded. It gives you a moment to take him in when you usually try not to linger on him for more than a moment. He’s wearing a crisp dress shirt with the top few buttons undone. Just the right amount of casual and dressy. Your eyes linger on his necklace that should look a little too fine or thin, yet somehow works on him. It’s an interesting combination. Something you might expect to see on Jeonghan with all his delicate features. Lost in your consideration of the piece of jewelry, you miss the moment Joshua finishes fastening this watch and looks back up.

“Were you staring at me?” he asks and you’re not surprised to hear his usual tone back. Maybe a little cockiness thrown in for good measure.

“Your necklace, actually,” you answer. It comes out much more smooth than you feel after being caught staring at your enemy. 

He chuckles and touches a hand to it. Runs a careful finger along the chain. Then, he smirks at you and you know there’s no good that can come from that. “Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you borrow it.” 

A million things run through your head at that statement. None of them can come out of your mouth, though. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Sana in the kitchen so our lovely chefs can get ready?”

“Sure,” he agrees easily and you like that tone even less. It’s like he knows some kind of secret that you’re not in on. It’s unnerving. He turns to the door before giving you a chance to say anything else. “See you at dinner.” 

What the hell was that?

You finish getting ready and head out into the dining area to find Jennie and Soonyoung setting the table. As seems to be usual, he has entirely too much energy for such a simple task. It’s kind of endearing, really. Everything with him around the group feels exciting, even the boring things. Jeonghan is just behind them with little name cards to assign you where to sit. You would roll your eyes if it weren’t so completely him. Though, he seems to have taken at least a partial night off from causing problems on purpose. Your seat is between Jennie and Jihoon, which seems harmless enough. Knowing Ji, he may not even have much to say. 

As something to do, you help bring food to the table. Everything looks amazing. Not that it’s a surprise. If Seungcheol wants to pay Joshua to make him coffee every day, you wish you could pay Mingyu to cook all your meals. Even as the one who went grocery shopping, you aren’t expecting this. There’s an assortment of dishes, both hot and cold, with something seemingly from every food group. And it smells even better than it looks. Everyone loads up their plates and takes their assigned seats. Naturally, Jeonghan sits at the head. And, of course, Joshua is sitting across from you. Not directly across from you, no. Jeonghan has him sitting across from Jennie. It seems deliberate since you’re far more likely to turn to chat with Jennie than Jihoon. But, nothing should ruin your mood or this dinner. Instead, you heap your praise on Mingyu and Jun before digging in. Just kind of follow the conversation as it goes. 

Dinner is just as amazing as you imagined it would be. Even cleaning up after dinner goes quickly. And then it’s to the part of the night Jeonghan seems most excited about: drinking and playing games. Multiple people veto Soonyoung’s request to play strip poker, causing him to pout. So, Seungcheol jumps in with another card game where you can all drink and keep your clothes on. Someone seems to mutter that everyone keeping their clothes on is boring, earning a chuckle. Still, you all settle around a large coffee table and start drinking. Jihoon joins once he gets a playlist going for background music. 

The game lasts longer than you expect before Soonyoung starts to lose interest again. And he doesn’t seem to be alone. He’s giggling along with Jun and Sana, the lightest of the lightweights in the group when it comes to drinking. None of them are really paying attention to their turns, but how can you be mad? They’re all so cute. So happy.

“Oh I know!” Soonyoung says, volume several settings too loud.

“Inside voice, Soonie,” Sana giggles.

“We should play truth or dare,” he says. It’s still a bit too loud, but at least your ears don’t hurt.

“Soonyoung, we’re adults,” Jihoon says, only a slight flush to his cheeks showing he’s been drinking.

“Which makes it even more fun,” Jun chimes in. 

Jihoon looks around for support. Looks for someone else to object. Most people only shrug. You all know that Soonyoung is going to get what he wants. He’s got a cute pout and he never asks for anything that would actually make someone uncomfortable. Why not play a silly game while drinking with friends on a getaway to forget none of you are in relationships at the moment? What could possibly go wrong?

The first few rounds, as always, are pretty mild. Nobody wants to be the first one to cross the line into something a little raunchier. Then the drinks keep flowing and people seem to get a little looser. Soonyoung gives Sana a lap dance that has the entire group on the edge of their seats. Jihoon has to admit that he wrote half a dozen songs about a crush on Sana when he first got started (which earns him a kiss on the cheek from the woman in question). Mingyu has to share a sexual fantasy. Sana has to suck on someone’s fingers (and picks Jihoon, which makes his cheeks flush). Around and around it goes with the only constant being that neither option is safer. It all depends on who’s asking and who they’re asking. The majority of what comes out is known to at least part of the group since most of you have been friends for years. It’s also all in good fun while the drinks flow. 

“Joshua, truth or dare?” Jeonghan says and his roommate seems delighted.

“Dare, obviously,” he says without a second thought.

You roll your eyes and take a drink while you watch Jeonghan pretend to consider. It’s an act, one you know well. He knows what he’s going to say and it comes out a second later. “I dare you to whisper in someone’s ear til they blush.”

“Something dirty?” Joshua asks. 

Jeonghan just shrugs. “Up to you about whatever you think will work best.”

Joshua casts his eyes around the group like he’s actually considering. You figure he’ll probably pick someone whose cheeks are already a bit flushed from drinking. Make it easier on himself. That’s what Jeonghan would do, at least. It’s only when you realize that he’s moving towards you that you get a little nervous. Jennie offers you a smile before getting up so that he can sit next to you. You really need to get better friends. It should be fine, though, because you don’t blush that easily. Definitely not because of someone you don’t even like. 

Your other friends seem to move a little further away, too. Maybe so they can see better or maybe so they don’t hear what he says. This is a test of wills and it’s one you intend to win as you give him the most neutral look. Unfortunately, he surprises you right from the start by gently taking hold of your chin and turning your face away from him. His fingers are just as gentle when they push your hair away from your ear. It’s the way you treat someone you actually like, not someone you constantly terrorize. The warmth from his breath tickles you as he leans into your ear. 

“You think you have me fooled. Want me to think that you can’t stand me,” he begins and you’re already fighting off a shiver. His voice is low, as smooth as honey and just as sweet. He keeps a hand around the back of your head and one in front of his own face to create the illusion of privacy. Even though nobody else could hear him with his voice so low. 

“I know, though. I know there’s a very fine line between hate and…desire. I saw the way you looked at my necklace earlier. Tracked the way you watched my fingers slide along the smooth chain. Were you imagining what else my fingers could do? Maybe you want to imagine them sliding across your lips. I’d do it if all our friends weren’t watching. Or maybe you were thinking about having my fingers ghost over your neck. Applying feather light pressure.” 

It’s getting harder for you to keep your cool. There’s a slideshow of the least sexy images that you can conjure playing in your mind. You cannot lose this to Joshua, of all people. Anyone else, fine. Just not him.

“Hmm. Or maybe it’s my mouth that gets you going. That mouth that’s always terrorizing you. Always seems to have something to say. Do you want to know what it feels like pressed into your skin? Do you want to imagine me dipping my head down from your ear? Can you imagine me sucking a mark into the soft skin of your neck and then soothing you by running my tongue over the spot? I will keep kissing down your skin. Finding every spot that makes you moan. I bet you make the sweetest sounds…”

“BESTIE!” Jeonghan says, nearly shrieking with delight. “Oh my god, I cannot believe he got you!”

Joshua pulls away with the worst grin you’ve ever seen and you just huff out in annoyance. Cross your arms and firmly look anywhere but Joshua. It’s all you can do to try and calm down the rapid beating of your heart. You shake your head and then glare at your best friend.

“What was he saying?” Mingyu asks, feeding too much into bullshit. 

“That’s between us,” Joshua says as he gets up to return to his original seat. 

“Cannot believe he managed to make our strongest soldier blush like that,” Sana says through a giggle. 

“Is she?” Joshua asks Sana, seeming genuinely intrigued. Sana raises her eyebrows in question. “Our strongest soldier?”

“Yeah, nothing gets her, usually,” Mingyu says and you cast a look at him for betraying you.

“It was like he was reading some smutty book to me. I wasn’t even thinking about it being him,” you say with a pout.

“Sure, sure,” Jeonghan says dismissively and turns to his roommate. “Your turn.” 

Part of you expects him to turn it right back on you given the look on his face. He surprises you, though, and turns over to Sana. You space out on whatever the truth or dare is. Kind of can’t think about anything other than the things Joshua whispered into your ear. You know he didn’t mean any of it. There’s no world where Joshua wants to do any of those things with you. And no world where you want him too, either, you remind yourself. It just kills you that he won this round. You refocus just in time to hear Sana direct the next question to you.

“Truth or dare?” she asks 

Sana is trustworthy. Not someone out to get you, so it’s easy to answer. “Dare.”

“Kiss the most attractive person…” she starts, only to get an elbow to the side from Soonyoung. “Sorry, I want you to kiss the most attractive guy on the lips for at least 5 seconds. Jennie and I are off the table.” 

“What would it take to get you on the table?” Seungcheol jokes and somehow keeps it from sounding sleazy. 

You roll your eyes and look around the group. All of your friends are pretty, which makes something like this hard. Easy to overthink, too. That’s when it hits you. Quickly rising, you make it seem like you’re heading towards Joshua. His face shows surprise for the briefest moment. At the last second, you curve towards Mingyu. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

He chuckles, catching onto your game immediately. “Not like it’s the first time.” 

You lean in and press a kiss to his lips. It’s nothing that deep, but you do make sure it lasts longer than five seconds. When you pull away, Joshua seems to be watching intently. Even follows you back to your seat. 

“Hey, now why does Mingyu get to be the most attractive?” Soonyoung protests with a pout.

“Maybe because he’s a literal model?” Jennie says with a laugh. 

“Details,” Soonyoung says dismissively. 

During the exchange you look back at Joshua and tune out the bickering. You find his eyes already on you, an unreadable look on his face. “Truth or dare?”

Joshua’s eyes widen. “Me?” 

“Mhm,” you hum in agreement.

His eyes narrow, just for a second. “Truth.” 

“What’s your most embarrassing sex story?” 

The question seems to catch him further off guard and you’re not sure what he expected you to ask. Maybe he thought you would ask about why he’s always terrorizing you. This is infinitely better, though. The way he answers will tell you a lot about him. 

He actually launches into a legitimate story. Apparently, he had been dating someone and wanted to spice things up a little in the relationship. So, he let himself into her apartment to set up a little dinner for them and then stripped down to a sexy waiter outfit. Just cuffs, a collar, and the tiniest underwear known to man. The only problem was that she didn’t know that he was setting up the surprise and showed up back at her place with her parents, who he had not even met yet. He was never able to recover from it and they broke up. It’s not technically a sex story, but you let him have it because it’s definitely embarrassing. 

The game carries on once again. The truths and dares get bolder until someone reels it back in with something a little tamer and the cycle resets. You think you might be in the clear, even though your mind still lingers in places you wish it wouldn’t. If your friends can tell you’re zoning out, they don’t call you on it. You’re actually surprised the game has gone on this long with everyone drinking and being silly. It’s kind of nice too, though, to get to take a break from real world responsibilities. There’s a lightness to the whole night that makes you warm. At least, that’s what you’re deciding has you feeling the way you are.

“Okay, last one and then we’re moving onto a drinking game,” Seungcheol says. 

“Bossy,” Jennie comments and earns a smattering of chuckles. 

“You up for it?” Seungcheol asks Joshua.

“Sure, dare,” he says without missing a beat. 

“No more of this whispering in her ear to make her blush, I want to see an actual kiss,” Seungcheol says and looks right at you.

“Excuse me?” you ask. He’s the last person you imagine engaging in whatever this is that the rest of your friends are up to.

“I could cut the tension with a knife and I just wanna see if it’s one sided,” he says, unapologetic. 

“Didn’t take you as the type who liked to watch,” Jeonghan says, shit-eating grin taking over his face.

“Oh, I’m into all sorts of things, but we can talk about that later,” Seungcheol says with a wink at Jeonghan. You forget, sometimes, that he can be just as insufferable as your best friend. He turns back to you. “You can back out, though.”

Joshua is watching you for your reaction and his face is unreadable. It’s impossible to tell if he actually wants to do this or if he’s just going along with the game. You know that he won’t follow through if you say no, though. Maybe it’s the drinks coursing through you, but it doesn’t feel like the worst thing in the world. The buzz in your veins is pleasant and you know you’re still totally in control. 

“Well?” Joshua presses when you don’t say anything.

You try to seem unaffected again by rolling your eyes. Can tell by the looks you get that it doesn’t really work. So, you huff out a short reply. “Fine.” 

For the second time tonight, Joshua rises from his seat and crosses to you. Jennie doesn’t even get a chance to move this time because he reaches a hand to you and pulls you to your feet. It’s gentle again, just like he was when he whispered filth into your ear. Almost cautiously, he puts one hand on your waist, sliding it along so it’s on your back as he pulls you into him. His other hand rests on your cheek and then he kisses you. Not just a peck like you’re expecting. His lips are impossibly soft and it takes everything in you not to sink further into it. To fight the way your body wants to respond to his touch. The next second, he pulls back. When you meet his eyes, it’s the first time you can remember seeing him look like that. Soft, unguarded, curious. The mask slips back into place when he steps away.

“Satisfied?” Joshua asks Seungcheol.

“Oh, definitely.” 

Nobody says anything about the kiss as you move into whatever drinking game Seungcheol picks to play next. There are plenty of looks that both you and Joshua miss, though. It’s almost like seeing the version of Joshua that all your friends talk about. The one who could be kind and thoughtful. Funny and supportive. All the sides you’re very convinced are reserved for anyone but you. It makes your head spin in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol in your system. It fills you with questions, too. Why did he kiss you like that? It’s the kind of first kiss everyone wants. One that’s full of promises and meaning. One that sets the tone for everything going forward. 

It’s going to spiral you back into annoyance again if you’re not careful. It’s all just a game to him, right? Just another way to mess with you and get you to think about wanting him. Another way to show that he’s somehow in control of this whole dynamic. That’s a win you can’t give him. So, you dial yourself back into the present and into the game. Make sure to act like everything is fine. And it is. You’re definitely not thinking about the things Joshua whispered in your ear now that you know exactly what his lips feel like on yours. 

The next morning comes brighter than you’re expecting. Then, you realize it’s not that early after all. A side effect of staying up into the early hours of the morning having the best night with your friends. Your head feels a little fuzzy from drinking. Could be a lot worse. Thankfully, you drank a ton of water and took a couple painkillers to hedge your bets, so you wake up without a hangover. Sometimes, past-you really does look out for future-you.

In the other bed, Joshua shifts. You freeze, not entirely ready to deal with him before even wiping the sleep from your eyes. Instead, he just rolls over and his breathing stays even. It’s that steady rhythm of someone sleeping soundly. He looks younger, somehow, while he’s sleeping. Or maybe it’s just that he’s completely relaxed. No time for scheming or terrorizing you. There’s an innocence that almost makes you forget the war between you and him. Almost. 

After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you decide to see if anyone else in the house is awake. The whole house is quiet, though. Not surprising. You always seem to be the first one awake after a night drinking and this is supposed to be a vacation. There’s no point in waking anyone up when you don’t have plans until later. So, you decide to grab your book, an oversized hoodie that you stole from one of your friends, and one of the blankets from the living room before heading outside. There’s a chill in the air, though not it’s not as bad as the previous day. There’s also heating units on the patio that you can turn on before settling down. 

It’s the perfect cozy morning. The heaters and the blanket keep you just warm enough without it being uncomfortable. The world around you is calm, peaceful in a way it never could be in a city. A breeze gently rustles through the trees. Birds call out to each other. There aren’t any of those sounds that people contribute. You get lost in the fictional world and the vivid imagery, completely unaware of anything going on around you. 

At least until a voice interrupts your thoughts. A voice that’s quickly becoming too recognizable. 

“I brought you coffee,” he says and holds out a steaming mug. 

Without consciously making the decision, you move your legs on the couch, allowing him to sit down on the other end. He has his own mug that he blows gently across before taking a sip. Your eyes study his profile for a moment before taking a sip of your own.

“Thank you,” you say without the normal bite. 

“I made it the same as yesterday, hope that’s okay,” he says. He’s still facing forward and you can’t really place why. Or why it bothers you that he’s not looking over at you when you’re not even friends. 

You sigh. “You make incredible coffee. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

The side of his mouth that you can see quirks into a smile. Probably a smug one, knowing him. Then he does actually turn to face you and, of course, his eyes sparkle. “Still nice to hear.” 

“Yes, Joshua, you are the coffee god,” you say with heavy sarcasm.

You set the coffee down on the table long enough so that you can mark the place in your book with the receipt you’re using as a bookmark and set it aside. Somehow, this seems to interest him, even though it seems like the most mundane thing. Instead of trying to figure out what’s going on in his head, you just pick your coffee back up and resume drinking in peace. A peace that only lasts a moment.

“You can tell a lot about someone by how they handle their books,” he says. 

That gets your attention even though you know it’s meant to bait you into a conversation. “Is that so?” 

“Probably not,” he says with a light laugh. “But, I like that you don’t dog-ear your pages…”

“A crime.” 

“And I use receipts as bookmarks, too. Sometimes, from when I buy the books if they don’t just email it to me or otherwise, just one I have lying around. I can’t ever seem to remember an actual bookmark, but who doesn’t have receipts lying around?”

“That’s true,” you concede. Joshua takes another sip of his coffee and shivers a little, even though he’s also got a sweatshirt one. One of Jeonghan’s, you think, because you know you’ve seen him in it. “Here.” 

“What?” he asks and turns to you. You’re pushing the edge of the blanket towards him with your foot. It’s plenty big enough to share.

“You brought me coffee. I’m not going to let you shiver,” you say and he smiles at you. One of the real ones that you’re not used to. 

“Thanks,” he says and pulls it toward his lap. 

“I’m surprised you’re not inside making everyone else coffee, too.” 

“Nobody else is awake yet. Or, I didn’t see anyone. I thought I heard voices, could’ve been a TV in one of the rooms. But it seemed so peaceful out here and I figured…”

“You’d come bug me?” 

The look he gives you is a little exasperated. Something new on his face. Joshua reaches into the pouch of his sweatshirt and pulls out a book. It’s a title and an author you don’t recognize. You wonder what you might be able to learn from his reading habits. 

“I thought I might read, too,” he says instead and glances at your book. “You know, not what I pictured you reading.” 

Several responses war in your head, all wanting to come out. You look over at the book to buy yourself a minute to see which answer wins out. “I like fantasy. It’s nice to escape into a world that isn’t real.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he says, seemingly pleased that you’re not being snarky. 

“So, why not this, then?” you ask. It hits you that maybe he pays more attention to you than you realize. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at getting under your skin. A thought occurs to you. “If you say you think I’d prefer sparkly vampires, I will end you.”

That makes him laugh, loud and clear. Like he’s not concerned about coming off a certain way. It’s a nice sound, you think. “No, that’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking more fantasy mixed with some kind of dystopia. Not something set in the Middle East.” 

“I do like that, too,” you admit grudgingly. “Have you read this one? It was out on a fantasy table at the bookstore and it just sounded interesting.”

“Not yet, maybe you’ll let me borrow it,” he says with that smirk that reminds you just what a pain he can be.

“We’re definitely not at book sharing,” you deadpan, falling right into the trap without realizing.

“So we can swap spit but you won’t share a book with me?” 

“Ew.” 

“I know the kiss wasn’t so bad that you’re saying ew about it.” 

You pull your legs closer into yourself and wrap your hands more tightly around the mug for both warmth and comfort. Regard him for a moment and decide how you want to go forward. There’s something about the setting that makes it feel like the two of you are in your own little bubble. Like you can say things you wouldn’t with your other friends around. Even though you know that you can see the patio from inside, it feels more private. Less on display than you and Joshua were the night before during the game. Somewhere along the chat, Joshua has also turned to face you and crossed his legs in front of him.

“I don’t understand you,” you admit after a moment. 

“I didn’t think I was complicated,” he says. 

“You hate me…”

“I’ve already told you I don’t.” 

“But you picked me to make blush even though there were better options and then kissed me without hesitation.” Joshua opens his mouth, a smart retort on his lips, you’re sure. So you’re quick to cut him off. “And don’t say it was just a dare. I didn’t kiss Mingyu that way and I got to pick whoever I wanted.” 

That makes him snap his mouth shut briefly. He takes a slow sip of coffee, seemingly to buy himself a moment to reconsider what to say. It’s hell on you, though, because seeing his lips on the mug reminds you of the way his lips felt against yours last night. 

“I don’t hate you,” he repeats to start. “I was maybe a little envious, at the beginning, of your relationship with Jeonghan and the rest of that friend group. I’ve always made friends easily, but this felt different. I know we all joke about it, but Jeonghan and I must have been friends in another life. And I saw how everyone also loved you and joked around with you, but you weren’t like that with me. So it felt a little like I was still on the outside of this group I loved.” 

“Who all love you, too, for the record,” you say with a sigh.

“You don’t, though,” he presses.

“Because you terrorize me!” you say without any real heat. 

“So does Jeonghan,” he points out. 

“He gets best friend privileges,” you say. “And he doesn’t fuck with me like you do.” 

“I watched him eat your ice cream out of the freezer and try to convince you that it wasn’t ever yours. And that he had no idea what happened to yours,” he deadpans and you immediately close your mouth, forgetting what you wanted to say.

“I…okay, yeah, he does fuck with me,” you concede.

“I figured if you already didn’t like me, I might as well have a little fun,” he says with a shrug. You can see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though. 

“And irritating me, then pretending you haven’t done anything is fun to you?” 

“Yeah, actually.”

You huff out in annoyance. “At least you admit that I’m not crazy.” 

“Now, that’s not all my doing.” 

You’re about to snap back at him when you catch sight of the look on his face. He’s just needling you again. Like he has been since moving in with your best friend. So, you switch tactics, hoping to catch him off guard. “Still doesn’t explain the dares last night.”

Joshua gives you a look that’s almost a little sympathetic. Like there’s something right in front of you that you can’t really figure out. It instantly makes you want to wipe it off him. “Like I said, I like to annoy you. You’re even hotter when you’re annoyed.”

“Excuse…” you start.

The door opens behind you and Jennie pokes her head out. “Brunch is ready, lovebirds.”

“We’re not…” you try to start again.

Joshua is too quick, though. Giving you that obnoxious smirk and slowly moving the blanket off his lap. “Thanks for sharing your blanket with me, sweetheart.”

With that, he’s up and heading inside before your brain can even catch up. God, he’s so fucking infuriating that it’s going to make you crazy. But, as you’re gathering your things to head inside for brunch, and ignoring Jennie’s pointed look, you consider that maybe you did just get to know a lot more about Joshua than you realized. 

After brunch, everyone gets ready to head out to the action park. This had been a Soonyoung and Jun suggestion, but everyone seems pretty interested. Since they’re the only ones who have been to one before, you’re not entirely sure what to expect just from the website. In person, it’s actually really cool. They have go karts, bumper cars, indoor mini golf, rock climbing and ropes courses, small ziplines, laser tag, and even more things that you can’t really put a name to. There’s definitely something for everyone and it lets you split off to go do whatever seems the most interesting. 

You’re barely in the door before Soonyoung and Jun are running off giggling. Jeonghan peels off to go karts. He’s not a great driver, but he’s as competitive as they come and it’s definitely something he can try to win at. A little surprising, especially with mini golf being right there, but whatever floats his boat. You try to drag Mingyu along with you to the zip line, figuring it’s not that high and maybe it’ll help him work on his fear of heights. You’re a little surprised that you get him to agree eventually. More surprised still that he actually seems to enjoy it. From the top of the zipline, you see that Jun and Soonyoung are playing some teenagers in laser tag, giggling in a way that has you concerned for the teenagers. Those two are devious with games like that. 

It’s the perfect kind of relaxing afternoon that’s also engaging. You try out as many things as you can and just get lost in the fun of it all. Don’t really think about Joshua or your earlier conversation. Definitely don’t feel any kind of way when the person securing his harness lingers a little longer than necessary, seemingly flirting with him. It’s too far away to tell if he’s flirting back. Not that you should care, either way. The distraction lets Jeonghan ram into the side of your bumper car and forces you back into your mission of chasing after your best friend. 

Several hours later, your whole group is ready to leave. It’s been a lot of fun, but nobody wants to get completely worn out. Especially when you have dinner reservations at a nice restaurant and then plans for an escape room after that. So, you pile back into your cars and head back to the house to get ready again. Joshua lets you have the bathroom to get ready because you want to take a quick shower without washing your hair. He’s not going out of his way to fuck with you and it’s a bit disarming. Still, it’s better than before, right? 

Dinner is even better than expected, but you’re careful not to praise it too much. Can’t have Mingyu pouting over thinking the professional chef does a better job than him (even though it is literally the chef’s job). Nobody drinks too much, either. Except it’s not because you drank the night before. No. Jeonghan, like the true chaos demon that he is, tells you at dinner that it’s actually two escape rooms because it’s too easy with 10 people and you’ll be splitting into two groups. So, it’s kind of like a competition to see who finishes first. That sharpens everyone’s attention. Well, after Soonyoung makes a joke about finishing first, of course. You can tell that people are looking around and wondering who the best teammates are going to be or how you’re going to split up.

Somehow, your friends let you and Jeonghan be on the same team, which feels like an unfair advantage when the two of you do these a lot. It’s been a tradition of yours for years, even now when they’re not as popular anymore. It’s a little surprising that Joshua doesn’t press about also being paired up with you. It seems like the perfect chance to give you a hard time and you know he wants to win. He just heads to the other group without a word, though. It hits you while you’re getting ready to start your room that he also left you alone during the entirety of dinner. Weird. But, then the timer starts and nothing else matters. 

Soonyoung whines the whole way back to the house about how unfair it was to have to go against you and Jeonghan. It’s good natured, though. He admits that he still had fun even if his team only made it out with a few minutes to spare. Your team had over 10 minutes to spare, by comparison, so it hadn’t exactly been a close fight. The bickering picks back up again when you get out of your cars and Soonyoung can argue with Jeonghan again. It’s incredibly endearing to watch them that way. Fills your heart with warmth. This really is the perfect weekend away with friends. 

“Oh, I brought my karaoke machine!” Soonyoung says as everyone is dispersing into the house.

“Soonyoung…” you start, exasperated.

“I’m in!” Jun squeals and Soonyoung is off to retrieve it without another comment.

“I’ll start mixing up some drinks,” Sana says with an affectionate sigh. 

“I’ll help,” Jennie agrees. 

Even though nobody else shows any enthusiasm, you all get sucked into the mess with the promise of drinks. Soonyoung actually doesn’t have a bad voice at all when he’s not trying to be as ridiculous as possible. It’s nice, though, because this isn’t the kind of thing you can’t do at home when you share walls with other people. Or not the kind of thing you should do. Soonyoung, in particular, does not need any more noise complaints. 

Jeonghan takes the seat next to you and it’s comforting to have him there, even if it’s not exactly a quiet moment. The two of you go over some of the more difficult clues from the escape room and wonder if you could have gotten through the other room just as fast. Figure you probably could because the difficulty levels were the same. The two of you are nothing if not confident in your abilities. Somewhere during the conversation, Joshua plops down on Jeonghan’s other side and shares what it had been like in their room. More chaotic than yours, by the sounds of it. 

“Hey, I didn’t ask,” Jeonghan says suddenly, turning to Joshua. “I saw you were getting some extra attention from that worker putting your harness on for the rock climbing wall.”

“Ah, it was nothing,” Joshua says dismissively. 

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” Jeonghan presses, ever the pest.

Joshua gives him a look that seems to convey a silent conversation. It’s strange to see when you’re so used to doing that with Jeonghan yourself. “She was just asking about our plans and if we needed any suggestions or wanted a guide to anything.”

“So, she was hitting on you,” Jeonghan concludes, smug for a reason you don’t understand.

“Maybe,” Joshua says with a shrug. “I told her it was a friends trip and that we were set.”

“Not interested?” Jeonghan presses.

“No,” Joshua says without explaining. 

“Can’t imagine why,” Jeonghan says like he knows a secret. You recognize the tone well. What you don’t recognize is what the secret is. 

“I’m gonna go get a refill,” Joshua says and stands up abruptly.

“What was that?” you ask, watching Joshua as he retreats into the kitchen.

Jeonghan only shrugs like he doesn’t know what’s going on. You might believe it on anyone else, but you know better with him. “I think I’m going to go see if Soonyoung wants to do a duet.”

With that nonanswer, Jeonghan also stands and heads over to see what Soonyoung has for song options in the app he’s using to connect to the machine. Something about the whole interaction feels off. And though you still don’t know if you even like Joshua, you get up to follow him into the empty kitchen. At least, you’re going to continue telling yourself you’re not sure if you like him. 

“Are you okay?” you ask and he turns at your voice.

“Fine, why?” he asks. It’s not how he normally interacts with you.

“I don’t know, you just seem off,” you say. “Jeonghan can be a shit sometimes, but…”

“But, you’ll give him a pass and not me,” Joshua finishes and it pulls you up short. “Sorry, I…”

“No, you’re right,” you agree and that does surprise him. 

“Are you okay?” he asks and starts to slip back into his more normal self. “Admitting, I’m right? I should check your temperature. Or should I call my family? Is the world ending?”

“You’re impossible,” you grumble. You turn away from him to refill your own drink.

You can feel his presence rather than hear it over the sounds from the living room. Know he moves to stand right behind you. “And you missed me messing with you today, admit it.”

His voice is low again and entirely too close to your ear. You hate the way you have to fight your reaction to him. Hate the way he flips a switch and sends you spiraling like this. You can’t admit that it felt weird to not have him messing with you. Won’t admit that you fell right into his trap with him being short. It even occurs to you that Jeonghan might have helped set the whole thing up. After all, who knows you better than your best friend?

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you say. 

“If you ask me to stop messing with you, then I will,” he says, still standing just behind you with his mouth near your ear. “If you tell me that you genuinely can’t stand it after last night and after we talked this morning, then I promise I’ll leave you alone.”  

“And if I don’t ask you to stop?” you ask, so quietly that you’re not sure he’ll hear you over the din. He does, though. His soft chuckle is confirmation of that before he steps away.

“Then, I’ll be very happy to keep seeing more sides of you,” he says.

By the time you actually turn around, he’s retreating back into the living room. You almost could convince yourself that you imagined the whole thing. Then, he looks over his shoulder and winks at you. It’s infuriating. He’s infuriating. He’s also confusing. This weird dynamic between you has definitely shifted and you realize it’s up to you to set the new boundaries. But, if it’s up to you to set the boundaries, then why does it feel like he’s still pulling all the strings?

You’re kind of in a daze while you try to process what’s actually going on. Outwardly, you keep sipping on your drinks and laugh along when Soonyoung does something particularly ridiculous in the name of karaoke. It seems, to most of your friends, at least, that you’re fully present. You refuse Jeonghan’s request to sing with him, like you always do. It’s just for fun, but he’s actually got an angelic singing voice when he wants to put effort in and you’re more of a sing in the shower type. It’s just friends, sure. You’re still not going to sing.

Inwardly, you’re in a constant battle. Going over all your interactions with Joshua and trying to figure out exactly what’s going on. It seems insane that he could flirt with you when he’s such a menace. Yet, your brain can’t really consider it anything else. Maybe you can write off last night as part of the game. Today, though, seeing more honesty out of him hadn’t been part of a game. And in the kitchen definitely wasn’t part of a game. You can also understand what he meant this morning. The rational part of your brain knows that it’s entirely fair to think he could mess around with you like the rest of your friends do. It’s even easy to see slipping into that despite not being close yet because he felt so immediately close to everyone else in the friend group. If you cut him some slack with that, then you can even start to see why your friends all like him as much as they do. He’s easygoing and also mischievous. Just the right combination for the friend group. 

And, okay, maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but you can also admit that he’s insanely attractive. The sharpness of his jaw contrasts the soft way his hair frames his face. He laughs along with something Seungcheol says and it’s an oddly comforting sound. Makes his whole face light up. You catch yourself glancing over at him entirely too much only to find him looking back at you most times. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem that many of your other friends notice. Really, just Jeonghan, if the look he gives you means anything. 

There’s a thin between hate and love. At least that’s what you hear. Maybe you never actually hated Joshua and you certainly don’t love him now. But, you have to admit, if only to yourself, that you’re curious about him. More curious than you want to be. And it’s driving you more than a little crazy. The worst part is that he doesn’t even seem affected. Sure, he throws a lot of glances in your direction and teases you along with your friends. But, it’s just…normal behavior. Nothing that suggests that he’s having an internal argument the way you are. 

Eventually, when it’s into the early hours of the morning again, the group starts to wind down. Soonyoung has long since abandoned his singing career in favor of queueing endless videos on YouTube on the TV. Jun is playfully arguing with Jennie about something nobody else seems to understand. Sana is drifting off where she sits, prompting Mingyu to gently wake her up and help her off to her bedroom. It’s the perfect chance for you to announce to the room at-large that you’re going to bed. You miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Joshua at your announcement. 

You get as far as a quick facial cleanse to remove any makeup before you hear the door to the bedroom open and close. It makes you poke your head through the door, though you know it could only be one person. 

“You dipped pretty quickly without actually saying goodnight,” he says and you pull your head back into the bathroom so that you can dry it off.

“And that’s an issue?” you ask when you step out into the bedroom. 

“An observation,” he corrects. 

“It seemed like the night was winding down, so I figured that I might as well turn in,” you say.

“Is that all?” he asks and takes a few steps towards you. 

“What else would it be?” you ask, drifting a little closer yourself without even realizing.

“I don’t know,” he says, but the look he gives you says otherwise. It feels like he pierces right through you with it. 

“Venture a guess,” you suggest, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“You might have been signalling me to follow you,” he suggests and you hate the way your stomach does a little flip. 

You hide it behind a scoff and turn your head. “We’re sharing a room, Joshua. It’s not like you wouldn’t end up here eventually.” 

“Have you thought about what I said in the kitchen?” he asks, changing his approach.

You lick your lips to buy yourself a minute. Don’t miss the way his eyes flick down to watch the movement of your tongue. There are a million different thoughts fighting to the front of your brain. There’s only one way to really know, though. You close the space between you and he doesn’t make a move.

“I need to see something,” you say quietly into the space between you. 

“Okay,” he agrees without even knowing what you’re asking. 

There’s no time to second guess yourself or you might lose your nerve. With your hands on his face, you pull him down to your lips and kiss him. For real, this time. Without an audience or a game or anything else. His body is tense for a second before he winds his own arms around your lower back to pull you against him. He’s confident and calm, letting you find the answer to whatever question you’re asking. You’re not even sure who deepens the kiss as your tongue tangles with his. You arch your back, pressing tighter against his chest and he lets his body follow yours. Let your hands slide from his face so your arms are around his neck. His hands slide down to land on your ass. The lightest squeeze makes you moan softly into his mouth. 

It’s him that breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he catches his breath. Doesn’t move his hands from your body, though. The chemistry with him is electric, like nothing you can remember experiencing before. With a kiss like that, it’s going to be very hard to act like your body doesn’t want him. 

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” he asks, still breathing a little harder than normal. 

Of course he’s concerned about that because he really is just as nice as all of your friends say. “Enough that my guard is down. Not so much that it stops me from knowing what I want.” 

“And what do you want,” he asks. The low tone of his voice is going to drive you insane, actually.

“You,” you say simply.

“Don’t toy with me,” he warns you. 

That makes you pull away so that you can look at him. “I’m not. I don’t have any answers for you, I just know I can’t ignore whatever this is that’s drawing me to you.” 

“Then don’t,” he says and pulls you back into him. 

The kiss is demanding. The kind of kiss that sets your entire body on fire. Even more consuming than the first kiss where you just wanted to see what would happen. You have no idea what any of this is going to mean and you’re not even sure you care. It’s a problem for later when your head isn’t clouded with nothing but thoughts of his man that drives you insane. A conversation to have in the light of day, maybe. 

His hands are everywhere on you and you’re not sure how you haven’t appreciated them more before this moment. They squeeze at your ass in a way that makes you press into him. They run up your sides and make you shudder. Tease across your breasts even though you’re fully clothed. It shouldn’t turn you on so easily. Shouldn’t have you making so many soft moans that he catches. It’s better than you could have imagined from the way he whispered in your ear the night before. And he hasn’t even moved on to kissing down your body. Not yet, at least. Without warning, he breaks the kiss again and you’re a little embarrassed at the way you follow his lips. Joshua doesn’t say a word as he disappears into the bathroom and returns with a couple of towels. Rolls them up and presses them against the crack in the door. Thankfully, your room is separate from the others. Still, you don’t want any of your friends hearing whatever is about to happen. At least this should muffle it a bit. 

“Are you still sure?” he asks when he finishes with the towels.

“Yes,” you say.

“Because if we keep going, I don’t think I can stop. Not now that I’m getting a taste of you,” he says and you shudder. 

“I don’t want you to stop,” you say. 

Any hesitation disappears when you utter that simple sentence. He turns you around so that your back is to his chest and brushes your hair to the side. This time, he’s not just whispering in your ear. He's running his tongue along the shell of it. Kissing behind your ear while his hands grip your hips. You wiggle your ass against him experimentally and appreciate the way he moans into the kiss. He continues on to the pulse point of your neck, sucking in just enough so that it won’t leave a mark. The way he takes his time is going to be your undoing. When he starts pressing you forward to one of the beds, you don’t even fight him. 

Before you can collapse onto the bed, he turns you around again and kisses you hard on the lips. Lets himself get lost in you again. Uses one of his hands to hook your leg up around his hip and deepens the kiss even further. You cling to him for balance and trust that he won’t let anything happen to you. It’s insane the way everything can change in a moment. The way your entire view of him changes when you stop fighting over nothing. Then he grinds into you and your thoughts go blank. He’s not even hard yet and you can only imagine what he’s going to feel like when he is. It’s too much. Enough to make you pull away so that you can start stripping out of your clothing. Joshua watches you for a moment, pupils totally blown, before doing the same. 

Your breath catches at the sight of him. You already know he’s beautiful, but this is something else. He’s all lean lines without it being too much muscle. Deceptively in shape for someone that never shows off his body. You would have had no idea, especially with the way your other friends show off their own bodies. It makes you self conscious for a second until you see the look in his eyes. The way he drinks in every inch of you like he can’t believe this is happening. Like he’s the lucky one in this situation. And he’s the one to close the space between you. To reach out and put his hands on your bare skin, resting them on your waist to pull you closer. When he kisses you again, it’s strangely soft, at complete odds with being naked against him. When his kisses trail down your neck, you have to try to stifle a moan. Remind yourself that you’re still in a house full of your friends. 

Joshua backs you up against one of the beds as he kisses down your body. He stops every time he finds a spot on your body that’s a little more sensitive. Gives you a little more attention there. You swear it feels like he’s smiling against your skin when he pulls noises out of you. That smile that’s so familiar to you that you don’t seem to mind so much anymore. Not now when his lips feel so good on you. Gently, he presses you back so that you collapse onto the bed. You’re about to move back when he catches you. Leans over you to kiss you breathless again. But, he’s pulling away too soon and crouching down so he’s between your legs. It pulls you up short because surely he’s not…

“Can I taste you?” he asks, low and a little desperate. He pushes your knees open gently, experimentally. 

“You don’t have…” you start and he chuckles. It’s insane that he can pin you in place with a look.

“I know that I don’t have to, but I really fucking want to,” he says. 

“Okay, but this angle…” you start again, feeling a little too exposed. 

“Is perfect,” he finishes without hesitation. “You’re stunning and all I need for you to do is say yes. Let me show you just how well my mouth works.” 

“Fuck,” you whisper out, losing any remaining nerves or self consciousness. “Yes.”

“Thank god,” he whispers like a prayer. 

You expect him to dive right between your legs. Of course he doesn’t, though. He kisses up the inside of one thigh. Lets his breath ghost across your wet core as he moves to kiss down the inside of your other thigh. You cannot let this man get you begging. Not so soon. Not like this. But, you don’t have to. The look he gives you before putting his mouth where you need it the most is sinful. Full of lust and desire and designed to ruin you. Not that he needs to know that. Gently, he places a kiss against your center. Looks up at you from under his lashes and you’re struggling. Thankfully, he doesn’t keep you waiting. He licks a stripe up your center. Must feel how wet he’s already gotten you. It seems to be driving him crazy, too. He licks deep into you, eating your pussy like a man starved. A loud moan escapes you before you clamp a hand over your mouth and knit your other hand in the sheets. Joshua adjusts so that your legs are over his shoulders and he can tilt you back. His tongue hits you at a new angle and you think you might lose it. He pulls back just for a moment to flick his tongue across your clit and suck it into his mouth. The look he gives you says he knows exactly what he’s doing. Knows that he’s going to push you over the edge entirely too soon. 

It’s the best you can ever remember feeling with a man between your legs like this. He definitely knows what he’s doing. And you’re in such a haze that you can’t hold back. Can’t stop the praise that falls quietly from your lips. Can’t stop yourself from telling him just how pretty he looks. How much you love the sight of him there. How good his mouth feels. All of it seems to spur him on more. When his mouth returns to your pussy, you really do think you’re going to be done for. You can’t believe that it feels this good without him even using his fingers. But, that coil forms low in  your tummy and you know it’s only going to be a minute. 

And then he does the worst thing imaginable. Pulls his mouth from you just as you’re about to cum. The look you give him is pure betrayal. For a horrible moment, you wonder if this has all been some kind of trap. Until he smirks at you and rises to lean over you again. Joshua puts one large hand behind your head and kisses you hard. Desperate. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue. Can feel how turned on he is by the way his dick hits your skin and he groans into your mouth. It’s kind of satisfying to know that you have him this worked up just from eating you out. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper against his lips between kisses. 

He groans. “I don’t think I have a condom.” 

You pull back and look at him. “I’m covered and I’m clean. So as long as you are, too…” 

It’s kind of cute to watch the way he blinks, clearly trying to make sure he heard you right. “I’m not sure…”

“You don’t want to?” you ask and he must see something in your expression because he softens. 

“Believe me when I say I want you more than fucking anything in the world,” he says. It doesn’t escape you that he says he wants you. Not that he wants to like you said. 

“It’s okay. If you say that I can trust you, then I will,” you assure him. He’s so unguarded that it actually makes your heart skip a beat. 

“You can trust me,” he says softly. 

There’s entirely too much emotion for you to process behind those four words. So, you pull him back into you to kiss him. Hope he feels what you’re not going to say. Not now. He seems to understand, though, because he kisses you back just as fiercely. Using his free hand, he lines himself up at your entrance. His tip teases your folds and you moan. It would be entirely too loud if Joshua hadn’t caught it in the kiss. Maybe he does know what he’s doing. He’s definitely the one protecting both of you from being overheard by your friends. Friends that you’re not even sure had gone to their rooms before this all started. You quickly cast that thought from your head.

Joshua presses in and out of you slowly. Takes his time because he doesn’t have a condom (or any lube) to make the slide easier. The pace drives you crazy, though; You hook your legs around his hips and he braces himself with one hand on the bed. The other grips your hip to anchor you. You run your hands all over him as he continues to gently ease into you. Note the way he gasps into your mouth when you tangle a hand in his hair. Smile against his lips at the way he reacts to your nails on his scalp. Think it may be the death of you when you run your nails down his back and his hips stutter. You do it again and he nearly growls. Actually breaks the kiss to look at you. 

You’re just about to ask if it’s too much when you register the look on his face. His voice is low, warning. “You’re going to be the death of me if you keep that up and I’m not even inside you.”

“Then maybe you should hurry up,” you say back, almost challenging. 

This is a game you can’t win. Not when he looks like that. Joshua moves his hand from the bed to your hip so he’s only gripping you. You get one look at his face and know you’re fucked before he snaps his hips, bottoming out in you. Lets you moan for a split second before he catches your lips again. 

“What was that?” he asks against your lips. 

You’re totally fucked. Absolutely done. The way he fills you feels perfect. It’s just the right stretch and you know he’s going to hit exactly where you need him to. Your brain goes totally blank. You forget that this is the same man who’s been a demon. Forget that you’re not going to beg him for anything. It all goes out the window.

“Please, I need you to move,” you say and try to wriggle against him. 

He chuckles a little. Presses feather light kisses to each side of your mouth and then along your jaw without moving inside you. Moves one of his hands from your hip to gently brush hair off your face. Then, he’s smiling that confident smile. “Well, since you said please…”

With his hand on the bed next to you again, he starts actually thrusting into you. You tighten your legs around him so they’re not dangling off the bed. You let your hands roam his body, exploring every inch of him. Try to map what he reacts the most to through the haze of the tension that’s building up within you again. Joshua alternates between kissing you and whispering praise into your skin. He’s so free with it. There’s nothing cocky about it, either. Not now, at least. His pace is steady, alternating between shallow thrusts and deep ones that make you shudder. He makes a small adjustment to the angle and it takes everything in you not to scream out. You clap one hand over your mouth with the loss of his lips on yours. Your other hand knots in the sheets and you throw your head back. Joshua picks up his pace. Can tell that you’re close. He must be too because he presses a thumb into your clit. Rubs quick circles over it and that’s too much for you. The coil snaps and you’re coming hard around his dick. He keeps fucking you through it and releases just after you, somehow managing to keep his thrusts relatively even through his own orgasm. 

He leans over you and kisses you again, messy and needy. You respond even though you can’t catch your breath. Drunk on the thought of him, but feeling entirely sober now despite drinking earlier in the night. Your chest rises and falls in time with his when he pulls back and just gazes at you. He’s still inside you and you’re sure it’s not comfortable to be arched over you next to the bed. But, he doesn’t seem to care. The gaze is so soft and you have to turn your head, just for a second. Joshua, instead, gently turns you back to him and brushes some of the sweaty hairs away from your forehead. Runs his hand down your body and gently helps you disentangle your legs around him. They feel a little stiff from how tightly you held on. Then, he slowly pulls himself out. Watches where you’re sure a little cum leaks free. It makes you wonder if he’s thinking he wants more like you do. Except, you know that you can’t really risk it again tonight. 

“Let me go grab a towel,” he says and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

All you can do is nod and flop back against the bed. Your whole body feels relaxed. Satisfied in a way that you haven’t been in a while. Unconsciously, you trail your fingers over your lips and along the parts of your body where you can still feel his touch. His presence lingers on you like a blanket. Comforting and warm. You don’t even realize you’re smiling. 

“If you keep doing that with a smile, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from diving between your legs again,” he says.

You roll your head to the side to look at him. Push yourself into a sitting position so that you can watch him walk back over to you. He really is one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen in your life. “I think we’ve probably pushed it enough for tonight.”

That makes both of you chuckle. “Probably. Though, I might not care if it meant you kept making those noises.” 

Without your permission, your cheeks flush and you look away from him. This time, he lets you have the moment. Instead, he goes to work wiping the sweat clear from your body. There’s shouldn’t be that much care in the gesture, but there is. Joshua Hong is good at a lot of things, apparently, including aftercare. You watch fondly as he gently wipes between your legs to make sure nothing dries there. 

“I know there’s…a lot to talk about you,” you start as Joshua steps away. He turns back to you, looking a little guarded again for the first time. It hurts your heart. “Joshua, I promise I’m not saying we’re not going to talk. I just wanted to know if we could get ready for bed and talk in the morning?” 

“Oh,” he says, relaxing again. Smiles at you in a way that you’re not sure you can handle. It makes you want to tell him to be gentle with you. “Yeah, of course. It’s been a long day.” 

“Thank you,” you say.

In a second, he’s back over in front of you to help you up. You roll your eyes and swat at him for a second, but do let him help you. You stretch your body out, arms over your head,  and miss the way Joshua stops to watch you as you roll your neck. Then, you do catch him looking at you and he plays it off by offering you one of his baggy shirts to sleep in. Considering it for half a second, you accept and grab a pair of the boy shorts you like to sleep in. The ones you haven’t worn yet because you weren’t expecting to be sharing with him. The two of you stand together and do your nighttime skincare routines. He stands behind you, wrapping an arm gently around your stomach as he brushes his teeth. It doesn’t feel clingy like it would in another situation. Just very soft, which is going to be an issue for tomorrow-you to handle. Your heart seems to be rushing way ahead of your head.

Joshua disappears for just a moment, after checking the door, to grab waters for both of them. He returns without any issue. Neither of you says anything about it when you both get into the same bed together. It just goes unsaid as you let him pull you against him. Both of you relishing in the comfort of the other as you fall into an easy, dreamless sleep. Nope. definitely not going to be any issues here. 

It takes a moment for your brain to clear the next morning. Not because you don’t remember the night before. Your brain is just in that hazy half-asleep, half-awake state when you register the arm around you. As you’re waking up, you glance over at Joshua’s face. Peaceful, again, like you noticed yesterday morning. Completely unguarded while he sleeps. 

Except, he also looks entirely different to you now. Sometimes things look different in the light of day. Sometimes, a new day dawns and you wonder just why you made a decision. That’s not the case for you. Not this time. Your body warms at the thought of him. It doesn’t make you want to pull away like other times, either. Even though you know that the path forward might be complicated at first. Or it might involve a lot of teasing. None of that seems to turn you away from this man that has so many more layers than you realized. 

As you’re looking over at him without really seeing him (because you’re zoning out in your thoughts), you realize his breathing changes. He’s awake now, but still looking very groggy. He pulls you into him, letting your legs tangle together, and kisses you gently. You can’t even fight the way you melt into him. The kiss is slow, languid. Not desperate like the night before. In any other situation, you hate kissing first thing in the morning. You’re not going to stop to think what that means this time. 

Joshua pulls away and smiles at you. “If I keep kissing you, I’m never going to be able to get up and our friends will definitely know something’s up.” 

“Fine,” you sigh. 

“Guess you don’t hate me anymore,” he teases, running a finger along your arm and watching the goosebumps spring up. 

“I don’t think I ever hated you,” you say and earn a look from him.

“You don’t think?” he questions and you break first, smiling. 

“You can never be totally sure,” you say. 

“Maybe we’ll have to test it again,” he says to play along.

“Guess so,” you agree easily. 

“So,” he starts and moves to sit up. You mirror him and cross your legs. “You mentioned needing to talk…”

“Yeah,” you agree and take a deep breath. “I’m not really sure what’s happening here or if it was just, like, a one-time thing to get some tension out…”

“It wasn’t for me,” he says, interrupting you. Takes a steadying breath like he needs to prepare for the next bit. “Was it for you?” 

It’s vulnerable, honest. You can’t ignore that he’s being brave. That he’s putting himself out there without knowing where you stand. This is the thoughtful Joshua you’ve heard so much about. The one that makes friends as easily as breathing. Just as he looks away, you gently reach out to take his hand. “No, it wasn’t for me, either.” 

“Don’t do that to me,” he breathes out as the tension disappears from his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a smile and can tell he forgives you immediately. “This has caught me a little off-guard.”

“Me too,” he agrees and the considers. “Not in the same way, though, I don’t think.”

“I’m confused,” you admit. 

He takes a breath like he’s bracing himself again. You’re not sure for what, though. You’ve already been honest. “I already knew I had a crush on you.”

“Oh,” you say softly.

“I’ve had a crush on you basically since moving in with Jeonghan and I’d basically given up before this trip. I didn’t think you’d ever consider me. Now it seems like maybe it wasn’t just one sided,” he says. 

“Maybe not,” you concede. 

“I think Jeonghan might have known. He definitely teased me about it even though I never told him. He’s too observant,” Joshua says with an eye roll. 

“It’s just…” you start and frown. “I want to figure things out with you and there’s a lot of questions to answer, so I’m not sure that I’m ready to…”

“Let our friends in on it?” he asks with a soft chuckle. You nod, thankful he doesn’t seem mad about that. 

“Yeah,” you agree, unsure of what else to say. 

“I can agree to that,” he says with a mischievous smile. “When we’re out there with our friends, I’ll keep teasing you like I always do.” 

“Great,” you interrupt with an eye roll. 

“But, when we’re in here,” he continues, the heat from the night before returning to his gaze, “I’m not going to act like I don’t know what you taste like. Or what you sound like when I fuck you.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” you squeak out and cover your face.

Joshua gently pulls your hands from your face. He kisses you softly. “Sorry, it’s out of my system. For now.” 

You swat at him and he quickly jumps off the bed. Maybe it’s not him you need to worry about giving you away. He’s got the easier job, after all. Normal for Joshua and you, in the eyes of your friends, just means he’s teasing you. Feeding into your distaste for him. But, how do you act annoyed by him after last night? 

Pretending everything is normal proves to be just as difficult as you expect. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like anyone heard you the night before. The house is big and several of your friends need to sleep with some kind of background noise on. Plus, everyone had been drinking, even if nobody (other than Soonyoung or possibly Jun) had been drunk. That’s at least one hurdle that makes your day easier. Joshua carries on acting like he always has with you and you try to give your normal responses. Try not to let on that anything has shifted between the two of you. Rationally, you know that whatever is forming between the two of you is a good thing. Know that your friends would be happy for you (after teasing you relentlessly). That’s not what holds you back. It’s that you and Joshua need the chance to figure out whatever it is by yourselves. Without having to answer questions from your friends that you can’t answer yet. 

The schedule during the day is relatively busy. There’s a scenic train ride that includes an amazing brunch buffet. Some of the sights through the windows take your breath away. Everything seems quiet, untouched. You and Jennie sit together and just watch the world go by, commenting on the beauty or else catching up on life. Everything about it is relaxing and just what the group needs. Even the train ride itself is smooth, a feat you’re not sure how they accomplish. It’s easy to see why it’s such a highly rated thing to do in the area. And, since Joshua isn’t sitting right next to you, it’s not so hard to pretend like everything is normal. Well, except for one comment that he makes that causes you to blush a little and earns you a skeptical look from Jennie. She’s not as observant as Jeonghan, though, so you think you manage it fine. 

After the train ride, you all walk around in town to explore the little shops. Soonyoung and Jun take off giggling and chasing each other, for no apparent reason. Just for the vibes, probably. You mostly focus on window shopping unless something catches your eye. It’s just nice to be out in the fresh air. There’s also something about the shops that make you feel like you stepped back in time, a little. It’s not a bad feeling. It just adds to the sense of calm you feel. 

One shop draws you in because it’s local, handmade jewelry. That’s definitely a favorite for you because it feels unique. Special. Some of the pieces you get from big chains can feel impersonal. The handmade pieces feel like they tell a story. They feel more perfect for any of their imperfects. Sana, Jeonghan, and Joshua follow you into the store, dispersing to look at different pieces. 

“What do you think of these?” a soft voice asks from your side, making you jump a little. 

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask, heart racing, as you turn to Joshua. 

“It’s fun to see you jump,” he says with a shrug. That glint is back in his eyes. 

“I’m not sure that’s your color,” Jeonghan chimes in, nodding at the necklace. Where did he come from? 

“Maybe it’s not for me,” he says with an easy shrug, looking at the necklace again. 

“Ooooh,” Jeonghan teases. He turns to you. “Lucky person, don’t you think?” 

You level Jeonghan with a glare, surprising yourself how easy it is, at least for that moment, to pretend. “I’m not sure about lucky since it’s Joshua. He does have good taste, though.” 

“That’s probably as close to a compliment as you’ll get from her,” Jeonghan says and elbows his roommate. 

“Nobody can resist me forever,” he says and throws you a wink that has Jeonghan laughing as they head in another direction.

Once again, you really want to ask him to be gentle with you. How are you meant to act like everything is fine? How come he’s trying to make this even harder on you? Then, you remember him asking your opinion on the necklace and realize he’s struggling, too. It makes you feel lighter knowing that he wants to buy you something from this store that drew you in all while you haven’t even figured out what’s happening. He did say that you could trust him. And you want to. A scary thought, to be sure.

The next stop on the agenda is a late afternoon murder mystery show. There’s audience participation and it’s something several of your friends have been talking about all weekend. The audience participation part may not be the most appealing to you, but it does sound interesting. At least, until Joshua makes sure to sit right next to you during the show. And lets the actors comment on what a cute couple you make without correcting them. He actively encourages them, instead, and it makes your friends howl with laughter. It’s painfully on brand for how he interacts with you, but it makes your brain short circuit a bit. Makes you stumble over a response before you gather your composure again. It’s par for the course for Joshua, but definitely not for you. You carefully avoid the questioning look from Jeonghan. You don’t trust yourself in the moment. If anyone could read you and figure it all out, it’s definitely Jeonghan. When things settle down, you do glare over at Joshua, though.

By the time you make it back to the house, having decided to get a bunch of take out and make your own feast, you’re just happy the day is over. Spending time with your friends is great. Pretending you didn’t fuck Joshua the night before, not so much. Despite agreeing not to tell your friends yet, he’s making it as hard as possible. Each time he needles you a little, it’s like he’s trying to figure out more about you. Trying to figure out your reactions to file them away for some later use. At this rate, Jeonghan, as your best friend and Joshua’s roommate, is going to figure it out. Especially if he’s already figured out Joshua had a crush. Yet, Joshua doesn’t seem concerned. Well, two can play at that game. 

Mingyu and Jun head into the kitchen to set up the spread of food, even though there’s no cooking involved. You, along with several other friends, excuse yourself to change into more comfortable clothes to hang out in. When you return in yoga pants and a slightly cropped sweatshirt, you revel in the way Joshua does a double take. Feel immense satisfaction at the way he drinks you in before looking away. He disappears, probably to change and buy himself a minute, and you smile to yourself. By the time he returns, you already have a plate and he doesn’t take the open seat next to you. His eyes bore into you, though, and you know that he knows it’s your way to push back at him a little. 

After you all finish eating, you notice Joshua in the kitchen and get up under the pretense of needing something to drink. He hears you coming and looks around to see that all the rest of your friends are still in the living room area and talking.

“What happened to pretending nothing happened?” he asks softly.  “I could ask you the same.” 

“I’m only teasing you like normal.”

“And I’m only putting on comfortable clothing, same as anyone else.” 

The look he gives you says he doesn’t believe a word of that. “You’re gonna give me a semi in that outfit with the way you keep moving around. God, I sound so pathetic.”

“No, you don’t,” you say, but your eyes sparkle. “Guess I shouldn’t say that I’m not wearing a bra or any underwear.”

“You…what?” Joshua gapes at you.

Instead of answering, you just grab your drink and head back to join your friends. You don’t have to turn around to know that his eyes are on you. The point definitely goes to you for this round. And maybe it sends at least a little message because Joshua tones it down a little the rest of the night. 

Compared to the other nights, this one is pretty tame. You all know that you have to head back home the next day, even if you don’t have to get an early start. Some people have a drink or two, but it’s just casual. You agree on something to watch and all settle in. Soonyoung struggles with sitting still for that long, and Mingyu pouts that nobody will cuddle with him in the oversized chair. He can’t understand why you don’t give in when he can convince you any other time. But, otherwise it’s just nice. Easy. The perfect kind of ending to a wonderful weekend away with friends. 

Slowly, people start excusing themselves to go to their rooms and nerves hit you again. You’re going to be alone with Joshua and you’re not really sure what to expect. Don’t even want to make eye contact with him because you don’t trust yourself to keep it together. So, you just stretch your arms out and say goodnight to the room. Figure you can leave it to Joshua to decide when he follows you to the room. 

It takes longer than you expect. Longer than it did the night before, by far. You turn some music on, just loud enough that it may cover anything that happens. But, it’s at least twenty minutes before the door opens. Long enough that you consider just going to sleep. Long enough to think that maybe the moment in the kitchen had been a step too far. 

You rise off your bed when he closes the door behind him and take a few steps over to him, preparing to say something. He doesn’t give you the chance. He closes the space between you and catches your lips in the most bruising kiss yet. Groans when you gasp into his mouth. He backs you into the wall and presses himself hard against you. There’s no space for you to move. He presses your legs apart so that he can slide one of his own legs between them. One hand rests behind your head, cradling it so you don’t hit the wall. The other hand runs up your side and under your sweatshirt. Rough and a little possessive. A very different side to him and it’s turning you on more than it should be. 

Joshua pulls away from you just enough so he can run his hand across your breast, confirming what you said about not having a bra on. He groans again, jerks his hips against yours almost involuntarily. He breaks the kiss and you gasp for air.

“I can’t believe you really came out without a bra just to tease me,” he whines out. A little desperation slipping into his voice. 

“I can’t believe you waited so long to come to our room that I considering going to sleep,” you retort, a little bratty now that you realize he’s not mad.

“I couldn’t come right away because it would have been obvious,” he explains. “Then, I started to think about you not wearing a bra or underwear. And the way I would have you clenching that pretty pussy around my dick again and it took a second to calm down.” 

“Who says I’m gonna let you fuck me again?” you challenge. 

“Don’t play with me,” he whines, some of the confidence disappearing. 

“I won’t,” you say, suddenly serious. 

You kiss him again to say the things you’re not sure how to. He gets the message, though. Your lips chase his when he pulls away entirely too quickly. But, he ducks his head and pushes your sweatshirt up without taking it off completely. Runs his tongue over your nipple and drags it between his teeth. It makes you arch into his mouth. It’s kind of hot, actually, the way he can’t wait to have his mouth on you. He switches to your other breast and is sure to give your body all of his attention. In response, you drag your core along his thigh that’s between your leg. Searching for any kind of friction. 

In any other situation, you might be embarrassed by how quickly your body reacts. Joshua erases that, though. You’re not even sure how. Despite all the time you’ve both spent terrorizing the other, it’s insanely easy to trust him. Easy to feel confident when he reacts to you just as strongly. Easy to just let things happen when he’s so willing to be desperate for you. No games, no bullshit, just making sure you’re both feeling good. 

The friction just isn’t enough anymore and you need more. Don’t want to keep riding his thigh while he laves over your breasts. You pull his face up to kiss him again and let your sweatshirt fall. His pupils are blown and somehow the confused look he gives you is cute. You’re not sure how he does it. A thought for another time, anyway. You pull him over to that reading nook you were so excited about and haven’t used. Push your yoga pants down your legs and kick them aside. Bend over and look over your shoulder at him. The lust is clear on his face.

“I just need you inside me,” you say and watch his eyes get wider with surprise. “Please.”

“God, I love hearing that from you,” he admits. “Think I’d agree to anything if you asked me like that.” 

“Simp,” you tease.

“Absolutely,” he agrees without any teasing. 

You don’t have a chance to react to the honesty in the statement before he’s pushing his own sweatpants down and kicking them aside. Casts his shirt aside even though he doesn’t need to. He presses your lower back so you’re bent at the right angle and you arch your back. Impatiently, he pushes your legs a little farther apart. The next second, he’s gathering your wetness and pressing a single finger into your pussy. Trying to at least prepare you a little. In no time at all, he inserts a second finger and pumps quickly into you. You reach for one of the pillows to bury your face into it so that you can moan little more freely. Joshua bends over your back and presses kisses into your skin. 

“Please,” you say again, pulling your face from the pillow. “I don’t wanna cum on your fingers.”

“Fuck,” he mutters and pulls his fingers out. 

It’s a moment before you feel him again. You bury your head back into the pillow when he presses his head against your entrance. You wiggle and encourage him to press harder. Any self control he might have disappears and he snaps hard. Soon, the sounds of skin on skin mingles with the music and your muffled moans. Joshua moves your leg so one knee is on the bench and he can get a better angle to fuck you. His hands wander your body. Digging into your hips hard enough that you imagine you’ll have fingerprints there. Flicking a thumb across your nipple. Finally working down to your clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts.

Entirely too quickly, your body shudders as the orgasm rips through you right as Joshua finds his own release. Your legs feel like jelly and you’re not sure if you can keep standing, even as you’re trying to come down. But Joshua, surprising you again, carefully pulls out and drags you over to one of the beds with him. You collapse, sliding further up to make room for him and pulling the sweatshirt off, finally. Except he doesn’t settle next to you. No, he settles between your legs, pressing them open. 

“Joshua, what…” you start to ask, breathless still. 

What becomes obvious immediately. He licks into your cunt, gathering your cum that mixes with his own. If you thought he was a man starved the night before, it’s nothing compared to tonight. He’s not taking his time with you, either. Not giving you a chance to recover. You’re so sensitive, but the way his tongue laps at you feels amazing. You knot a hand in his hair and he groans, sending a vibration through your pussy. This time, when he moves his mouth to your clit, he slides a finger inside you. Quickly adds another. You can’t believe the way your body responds to him. Can’t believe how good it feels even though you’re so incredibly sensitive. You bite down on your own fist to stop yourself from screaming out the way you want to. The end of this trip can’t come soon enough. You absolutely cannot wait to have him in your own space where you don’t have to worry about friends overhearing. 

The second orgasm hits you so hard it whites out your vision. Has you coating Joshua’s fingers and mouth. He guides you through your high as all the tension leaves your body. You feel like you’re nothing more than a puddle on the bed when you feel him settle next to you. After giving you a minute to catch your breath, he pushes himself up to hover over you. Gives you what should be a gentle kiss until you wrap your arms around him and pull him down on top of you. Even though he offsets some of his weight, there’s still a pleasant heaviness having him on top of you. It’s so comfortable that you could kiss him for hours without getting sick of it.. 

After a long moment, he pulls back to look at you. That tender look back on his face. “I hope that was okay.”

“You know I’m not complaining,” you say earnestly.

“I was wondering if I could make you squirt,” he teases and he’s all confidence again. You swat at his arm and pretend you’re going to wriggle away.

“I take it back,” you joke.

“No, you don’t,” he says, confident without being cocky.

And then he’s kissing you again. You’re back to tangling yourself up with him. Just letting things happen without overthinking anything. There’s something wonderful about this side of Joshua that just makes your mind go blank. Not even in a fucked stupid kind of way. It’s more like it just feels right. You feel safe and cared for in those moments. You also both feel a little insatiable. Simultaneously wanting to kiss for hours and unable to stop yourself from it turning heavier. 

Joshua pulls back from the kiss and flops dramatically onto the bed next to you. You roll over and pro yourself up on an elbow to look at him. His eyes find yours, affectionate and also very clearly turned on. “If you don’t stop this, I’m going to want to be inside you again.” 

“Me?” you ask, pretending to be shocked. 

“Yes, you,” he says and leans forward to kiss your nose. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say and flutter your eyelashes.

“I bet you don’t,” he says quietly, unable to stop the light laugh. Then, takes a breath and sits up. Swings his legs out of the bed and reaches back to you. “Come on. Let’s clean up and go to sleep. We’re heading home tomorrow and it’ll be a lot easier to figure this out without so many nosy friends.”

You pout but accept his help, anyway. He’s right. Even if you can’t really get enough of him, you’re already going to be a little sore from this and you have an endless amount of time to figure things out. As you fall asleep that night, tangled up in him, you feel confident. This isn’t something confined to the little bubble of a vacation. He’ll tell you exactly how he feels and what he wants once you’re back home. Help you be brave enough to be just as honest. It’s definitely going to be enough.

The next morning is a flurry of activity. Everyone seems to have left packing for the morning, even though there shouldn’t be much to do since it’s only been a few days. People mumble greetings to each other around bites of breakfast as you all clean up. Somehow, things seem to have spread out much more than expected and you want to make sure everything is in good shape before leaving. Not that you let it get genuinely messy. It’s just that there’s 10 of you and you don’t want any sort of extra cleaning fee slapped onto Mingyu’s credit card. You’re still thankful he volunteered to take the charge (though, obviously, you all split the cost). 

It also becomes clear that even though the check out time isn’t early, you should have set an alarm. Add in the fact that you’re very much sore thanks to Joshua, and it’s an interesting morning. Neither of you is trying to keep up any sort of facade around the other because the focus is making sure you’re ready to leave. It keeps you from even worrying if anyone notices something different. Then again, if things go the way you expect, all your friends will find out that something is going on soon enough. It’s just a matter of timing. A thought that puts you in an incredibly good mood. You don’t even notice that you’re humming while cleaning until Soonyoung starts singing along to the tune. 

Worrying about anyone finding out becomes a moot point when you’re all getting ready to leave. At least, in part. Really, you should know better than to try to get anything by Jeonghan. After years of friendship, he easily knows you at least as well as you know yourself, probably better. And he knows something is up. You’re not sure if he knows the specifics. Don’t really want to think about if he somehow heard you and Joshua the night before. 

Jennie seems to know something is up, too. You’re not sure whether she figured it out or if Jeonghan told her. Probably the latter, if you’re honest. She’s generally a little easier to fool that Jeonghan. As he’s prone to telling you, you can’t bullshit a bullshitter, and nobody does bullshit better than him. He loves sniffing out a scheme almost as much as he loves coming up withit himself. It confirms your suspicions when you see him and Jennie whispering together then looking over at you. He doesn’t leave you waiting for his response either.

“Jennie’s coming back with me,” Jeonghan announces. “She offered to drive my car, and how can I say no?” 

“And I’m supposed to head home alone?” you ask skeptically. 

“Of course not!” Jeonghan says, pretending to be offended. 

“We just thought you and Joshua could use the drive to work out whatever your issues are,” she chimes in, sharing a look. 

“It’s like you don’t want them to make it back in one piece,” Mingyu jokes, but doesn’t otherwise comment. You can’t tell if he knows anything.

“Even I’m not going to leave you stranded in your time of need,” Joshua says, immediately falling into the plan. You can’t read the look on his face and you wonder if he already knew, too. Probably, knowing Jeonghan. He’s a demon, but he’s not cruel. He’s not going to put you in a situation you genuinely don’t want to be in without checking. 

The rest of your friends laugh and continue to load up the car. You just shake your head at your best friend as he approaches you. He turns over his shoulder to call to Jennie. “I’ll be there in a sec!”

“What are you up to?” you ask in nearly a whisper.

“The better question, bestie, is what you’re up to,” he says, eyes sparkling. You open your mouth to protest and he holds up his hand. “You’re not as slick as you think you are. Did you forget we’ve been friends for a decade?”

“No, you’d never let me forget,” you joke and Jeonghan rolls his eyes. 

“I told him that I didn’t expect him back tonight. But, please know, if I’m right, then I will be teasing you both without mercy,” he says and it’s your turn to laugh.

“There’s my best friend,” you say with a smile still in your eyes. 

He’s serious for a moment. This is the side of Jeonghan that he reserves for only those closest to him. You wait patiently because you know whatever he has to say is important. “You seem happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. Don’t be afraid of that. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Hannie,” you say softly. 

“Even if you did totally ignore the point of a single friends Valentine’s getaway,” he says, returning to his normal self as Joshua approaches. 

“Goodbye,” you say and push him away. 

His eyes fall on Joshua. “Take good care of her. You’re a great friend already, but she’s family.” 

“I will,” Joshua promises and plucks the car keys out of your hand. 

“Hey!” you protest and hear Jeonghan laughing as he walks away. “That’s my car.”

“And I’m an excellent driver,” he says before dropping his voice lower. “Come on and be my passenger princess.”

He really is going to have to stop making your brain short circuit like that. It’s diabolical. But, then again, that’s exactly who he is. Not like you expect him to change now. With one last look at the beautiful house, you get into the passenger door that Joshua holds open for you. You’re very thankful that you gave the weekend a chance. Even more thankful that you gave the man next to you in the driver’s seat a chance. He reaches a hand over to squeeze your thigh and you know it’s going to work out just fine. 

if you made it through that insanity, thank you and tell me what you thought 💕

tag list: @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @honglynights, @pyeonghongrie, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @tinkerbell460, @aidanjoon, @cookiearmy, @kaepjjangiya, @lostmembrane, @thestraybunny

[dancingbirdie]

Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 

She held his gaze, speechless. 

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 

“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 

[steviewashere]

Steve and Eddie being teenage boys (even in their twenties, even though they technically are no longer teenagers), a list that I've been making in my head (some of them are stupid and some of them are sweet, but this is a long list, be warned):

Steve teaching Eddie how to burp the alphabet after drinking soda. He's phenomenal at it. Like...almost disgustingly so. It ends up turning into a one up competition pretty fast after that.

Eddie who knows how to drag race and takes Steve on ridiculously fast drives down empty streets at night (when Steve's had a terrible night). He steps on the gas and goes: "Weeee!!!" as they speed. (Please don't speed. It is dangerous. But for the sake of entertaining their pea brains, this is what they do.)

Eddie and Steve who have been participating in a several month long tagging game. They slap each other on the back of shoulders as hard as they possibly can before skittering off like a little goblin.

Steve and Eddie think it's soooo fucking funny to blow up condoms like balloons when they're stoned.

Steve and Eddie who get stoned and they go shop for munchies at the local grocery store, both hysterically giggling at figuring out how to be "normal" people in public. (They are failing miserably.)

Steve who makes Eddie play basketball with him sometimes. And then he purposefully tosses the ball at Eddie rather than the basket. It devolves into wresting in the grass, heads in elbows, knuckles across scalps, kicking each other in the shins.

One time, Steve falls asleep at Eddie's on the couch. And instead of being all sweet and doting, Eddie finds a marker and draws a penis on Steve's face. He gets water poured on his head the next time he falls asleep at Steve's as payback.

Steve and Eddie comforting each other through nightmares and hardships and healing injuries, both in sort of constipated, mumbled ways. Pats to the back and leaning in close to each other, resting heads on shoulders. Passing cigarettes or beers back and forth just to pass the time, not really talking. Exchanging words afterwards like, "You're a great friend," and "You're the best person I know." Because they both need that and recognize that, even outside of the petty, childish things they do to each other.

Eddie, who understands that the pool at Steve's is a sore spot, instead of prodding them to get in, he plans out a whole water balloon fight to stave off the summer heat.

Steve, who knows that music has been a source of calm for Eddie over the years, makes sure there's always a cassette that Eddie can play in case it gets too quiet.

Eddie and Steve who shit talk each other in the arcade, beating each other's high scores if only to rile the other one up.

Steve who always checks Eddie's ID before he goes into the adult only room in Family Video. Despite knowing that Eddie is definitely over the age of eighteen. Sometimes he denies Eddie entry in front of Keith just to make him pout. (He thinks it's cute.)

Eddie and Steve watching porn together, criticizing the moans the entire time because they know for sure it's fake. And on the same note of moans, Eddie who gets a call from Wayne and Steve fake moans in the background the entire time. Steve gets a call from his parents and Eddie shouts really loud in the background for Steve to pass the joint back. They just glare at each other before getting in another tag fight throughout wherever they're at.

Eddie who goes into Family Video after Steve strikes out again. Who just walks up to the counter and starts acting like one of those girls, twirling his hair and pouting his lips and blinking his eyes, making his voice high pitched. (It gets Steve to giggle instead of pout, so Eddie calls it a win.)

Eddie guzzling an entire can of Coke and then spraying it out of his nose when Steve makes him laugh too hard. Steve's never made anybody laugh that hard.

Steve and Eddie who claim it's not gay to make their boners kiss. I mean...what? Who said that?

Steve and Eddie who play-punch a little too hard when playing punch buggy on vacation.

Speaking of vacation, Steve and Eddie going to a beach over the summer. They chase each other up and down the sand. They roll off of the sand hills. Eddie buries Steve in the sand and applies sunscreen to his face as he just accepts his fate. Steve helps Eddie make a sandcastle, a secret talent of his being how structurally sound he can build one.

Steve and Eddie playing with Legos while talking shit about Family Video customers. They toss Sour Patch Kids into each other's mouths as they talk. Sometimes hitting each other in the face purposefully.

Steve and Eddie who get drunk one night and go catch a wild possum. Robin screams at them to put it back because, "No, you dinguses, that is not a cat!"

Eddie and Steve taking care of each other on bad pain days. Trying to entertain the other with stupid jokes or shitty movies or gossip.

Eddie sharing his uncle with Steve when he finds out that Mr. and Mrs. Harrington are terrible motherfuckers. Who makes sure Steve is comfortable in his home around Wayne.

Steve conspiring with Wayne to make sure that Eddie always has the best birthday parties. Because the one thing he really held onto from his King Steve years was how to throw a small get together, and how, especially, to make it extremely awesome and memorable.

Steve who gets Eddie new albums he's been eyeing for his birthday. Ones Eddie knows he'd never be able to afford on his own, always a little sullen when he looks at the price. Steve who still has access to his dad's credit card and will max it out just for Eddie to get his fill.

Eddie makes homemade things for Steve's birthday. Cards and trinkets and drawings—things Steve's old high school buddies never considered as gifts, even though they have the most impact on Steve, even though they matter the most.

Steve and Eddie who love each other, insurmountably. Despite sometimes being major buttheads to each other.

[sailorsoons]

Please note: I was previously sailorrhansol before my blog was deleted by Tumblr - I am slowly reposting my deleted works here.

★ PERMANENT TAG LIST ★ WIPS AND UPDATES ★ FIC REPOST SCHEDULE

★ o n e s h o t s ★

Amnesia | Seungcheol x f. reader | Friends with Benefits to Lovers | Hint of Angst | Smut | Complete

Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 

Giving Season | Chan x reader x Seungcheol | Established Relationship (w. Seungcheol) | Polyamorous | PWP | Smut | Complete

You always enjoy the office holiday party each year, especially when you get to do secret santa. This year, you enlist Seungcheol’s help to give Chan the perfect gift.

Hush | Incubus!Seungcheol x reader | Supernatural | PWP | Smut | Complete

You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help. 

Midnight Sails | Pirate!Seungcheol x reader | Pirate AU | Sort of Lovers | Requested | Complete

Seungcheol has never been able to give his heart over to anything but the sea, which has landed him in a never-ending game of chase with the sea’s favorite daughter. 

★ coming soon ★

★ coming soon ★

★ coming soon ★

★ o n e s h o t s ★

Baby | Soonyoung x f. reader | Mafiaverse | Established Relationship to Exes to Lovers | Angst | Smut | Complete

Soonyoung had been in your life for as long as you can remember. You haven’t spoken since your wedding to someone who isn’t him, but when you uncover your husband’s plans to turn against your family, you don’t know who else to call.  

Greedy | Vernon x f. reader x Soonyoung | PWP | Idolverse | Smut | Request | Complete

Vernon is good at a lot of things - Soonyoung wants to help him be good at one more thing. 

One Hundred and One | Soonyoung x Reader | Established Relationship | Fluff | Requested | Completed

Soonyoung is always affectionate and sweet. Soonyoung after a few drinks is all of that and more.

Petrichor | Soonyoung x afab reader | Slice of Life | Smut | PWP | Established Relationship | Completed

Waking up to the sound of rain is good - waking up to the sound of rain and Soonyoung pressed up against you is better. 

You. Always. | Soonyoung x f. reader | Established Relationship | Slice of Life | smut | PWP | Complete

Soonyoung isn’t a jealous guy - he’s not. But sometimes it gets to him, the way other people look at you and fall a little in love with you. Don’t they know you have him? 

★ o n e s h o t s ★

Chat, is that Rizz? | Wonwoo x f. reader | Established Relationship | Slice of Life | Smut | Completed

Your rivalry with Wonwoo has existed for as long as you’ve been streaming. It’s fun, and both of your communities love it. Wonwoo is happy to play along - at least until you question his rizz while live, and he feels like he should remind you just how much rizz he has.

Santa Baby | Wonwoo x f. reader | Established Relationship | Humor | Slice of Life | Completed

Your boyfriend is stuck working on Christmas Eve in hell on earth. You decide to pay him a little visit to cheer him up - and give yourself a good laugh.

Sweetest Thing | Dad!Wonwoo x Mom!Reader | Established Relationship | Slice of Life | Smut | PWP | Completed

For the first Halloween in years, you and Wonwoo are able to enjoy it together without the kids. When you feel a little nervous about your costume, Wonwoo is determined to show you that you’ve always been the sweetest thing. 

★ o n e s h o t s ★

Storm Breaker | Jaeger Pilot!Jihoon x Jaeger Pilot!reader | Pacific Rim AU | Forced Proximity | Strangers to Lovers | Smut | Angst | Complete

It’s a known fact Lee Jihoon is one of the best pilots the Jaeger Program has. The only problem? He can’t keep a co-pilot to save his life. He thinks you’ll just be another Ranger in the rotation, but you are an unpleasant surprise. 

★ coming soon ★

★ o n e s h o t s ★

Prism Power | Mingyu x afab!reader | Established Relationship | Smut | Fluff | PWP | Complete

It’s your first Halloween with Mingyu as a couple and when a power outage threatens to ruin your favorite holiday, Mingyu makes sure to save the night. 

★ coming soon ★

★ coming soon ★

★ o n e s h o t s ★

Hello, Darling | Vernon x afab reader | Supernatural | Friends to Lovers | Thriller | Smut | Complete

Vernon has been one of your best friends for years. Shy, quiet and calm, he’s always been a steady rock for you. He has no idea you’re in love with him, but that’s neither here nor there. Ater a strange series of events on Halloween night, Vernon seems a little… different, and the new version of him both terrifies and thrills you. 

Greedy | Vernon x f. reader x Soonyoung | PWP | Idolverse | Smut | Request | Complete

Vernon is good at a lot of things - Soonyoung wants to help him be good at one more thing. 

On the Clock | Vernon x f. reader | Fake Dating | Coworkers to Lovers | Smut | Complete

Modern problems call for modern solutions, including naming a random stranger in the bookstore as your boyfriend to avoid an embarrassing encounter with your ex. The problem? The stranger is Vernon and he’s not supposed to be a stranger at all - he’s your coworker, and now everyone at the office - including your ex - thinks you’re dating. 

Vengeance | Vernon x f. reader | Mafiaverse AU | Established Relationship | Smut | Angst | Complete

You always knew you were different from a young age. The only person who has ever been able to understand you is Vernon. When things take a turn for the Choi Syndicate, your long-term relationship is put to the test.

★ o n e s h o t s ★

Blood & Popcorn | Chan x f. reader | Friends to Lovers | Idiots to Lovers | Smut | Hint of Angst | Fluff | Complete

Fridays are reserved for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuffing your face with popcorn and pizza. It’s been like that for you and Chan since your freshman year of college. But when he skips your Blood and Popcorn night for a date, things take an unexpected turn. 

Giving Season | Chan x reader x Seungcheol | Established Relationship (w. Seungcheol) | Polyamorous | PWP | Smut | Complete

You always enjoy the office holiday party each year, especially when you get to do secret santa. This year, you enlist Seungcheol’s help to give Chan the perfect gift.

Still Watching? | Chan x f. reader | Established Relationship | PWP | Smut | Slice of Life | Complete

Blood and Popcorn with your newly minted boyfriend is your favorite. Except now you watch a lot less Buffy and a lot more of Chan. 

COLLECTIONS

These are masterlists to stories that all occur in the same universe, whether or not their stories are connected.

★ The Syndicates Collection ★

[untolduttering]

What Would I Do Without You?

Summary: You struggle with your emotions immensely, bottling them up and worried about being a burden. This has negative consequences, as it usually does, and it causes you to snap at Sanji.

Tags: Sanji x gn!reader, established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, self-loathing, reader is bad at feelings

Word Count: 4.8k

You were getting quite tired of the predictability of the human body and the human mind. There was a routine here, one you couldn’t break, and whose existence made everything all the more rotten. Small things would smart—dropping an apple as you helped bring the groceries onto the ship, a rope snapping as you tried to tie down a sail—and when that little hurt happened, it stacked itself on top of the previous one. It grew higher, the tightness in your chest winding and winding, the ache in your teeth growing as they clenched harder and harder. Until one more small thing made it all topple. And then your lip was curling and your teeth were snapping, all without your permission. You hadn’t even noticed the size of the stack and the weight it was causing until your own shame made you look back at it. The big thing now sitting exposed, having been hidden by the smaller things, and now faced with it, made you start running all over again. Ignoring it and pushing it somewhere else.

Yes, it was quite an exhausting and rotten routine. But an animal you were, and habits die hard, and so you started it from the top.

It was your worst trait, but thankfully one that didn’t show itself all too often. On the Sunny, surrounded by such an understanding and loving crew, it was difficult for any sort of anger or hard feelings to linger. There was bickering and fighting, mostly playful, that created a loose and welcoming atmosphere. Darker thoughts didn’t sit at the forefront. But maybe that’s what made them so dangerous at times. You let them stay passive, and that’s how they sink their claws in.

Luffy did not invite people into the crew based solely on their usefulness. He sometimes had a position in mind, but more times than not, it wasn’t even something that crossed his mind. His requirements were of a different caliber, some of it could be pinpointed, other aspects eluded the rest of you. Being on the crew meant you were family, and family did not care whether someone was useful or not, they simply loved you for you.

You, no matter how much you believed in that fact, always fancied yourself the exception because it was difficult not to. Luffy had a knack for choosing the exceptional, the absolute best. Each member on the crew was so unbelievably good at their one thing that they surpassed every other existing person who did it. And for most, being the best wasn’t even their dream, it just seemed to be the natural spot for them. You didn’t want to disregard all their efforts and hard work—it wasn’t easy for them to reach this point—but damn was it difficult to not think they were born for this. And you were born for nothing, it seemed.

It’s not that you were a hindrance. Anything that had been asked of you got done and adequately so. But that was the thing. Adequately so. Everything you did was so terribly average. You maintained what was already in place, never making something new or helpful. And they could all maintain the ship just fine, your hands were just another pair, ones that weren’t crucial. Ones that didn’t do anything special.

Their lack made you want to help more, in any way that you could. You’d lean over Nami’s shoulder, enamored by the charts and maps that she’d made. You’d stand on tip toes to get a look at whatever it was that Franky was working on. Person to person, you offered yourself. And sometimes they accepted it, and other times they didn’t. And both circumstances only served to highlight your uselessness. Too many hands in a kitchen could make for messy work if they didn’t know exactly, to the minute detail, what they were doing. It may take longer for one person to create a new sort of bullet, but too many muddled the process, and an unskilled hand making a mistake forced the other to halt their progress and fix yours. So you knew that when your help was accepted, it was because the task wasn’t all too crucial. It was something anyone could do, and if you made a mistake, it was one that didn’t matter all that much.

So that stack started as an itch until it became a sharper point over time. Every unintentional rebuff that had to be ignored because there was no insult behind it, simply fact, and no one could be faulted for that hurt. And worse, you feared if you ever brought it up, it would only make you seem too sensitive, more difficult, and someone to work around. That thought always made you burn the most, the fear that your own insecurities might tear down all that had been built and create an insurmountable rift between you and those you cared for most.

No, no, you could deal with the routine. Push it all down and find a way to keep your mouth muzzled. If only it were that simple. If only you could predict your anger that well.

As well as you thought that you hid it, Sanji had a chef’s nose, and could sniff out even the slightest shift in your mood. It was equal parts endearing and terrifying, because not even you felt it at times, and he’d know before you did. The most difficult part was telling him what was wrong. Your brain was a whirlwind of doubt when it came to your self-worth, and so even the smallest of confessions felt detrimental. What could this admittance change? What would change? Something always shifted when someone spoke out loud, and sometimes it was hard to discern just what that change would be. And it was worse when your guess was wrong, and you were either left to choose between accepting the misconstrued opinion of you and allowing yourself to be viewed incorrectly, or desperately trying to explain yourself and potentially dig a deeper hole.

So more times than not, you chose to pretend, and assured him everything was fine. And that slight bit of disappointment in his face always made that tear inside you rend deeper. It felt like telling him was just as doomed as not telling him. It felt like you were always going to fail him.

Which made it so much worse when it was his small action that made the tower crumble, and your teeth sink into him.

It had been a long two weeks at sea. The days moved slowly, each one copying the last, its consistency like the ticks on a clock. All meals were shared like usual, the conversations and close quarters creating a blanket of warmth and familiarity. You leaned into the voices swirling around you, or avidly answered someone’s question, all while playing with Sanji’s hand or the chain he wore on his waistband. It was the time in between those moments that usually turned dreadful. You had hobbies you enjoyed, reading in the aquarium for hours at a time or enjoying the sun as you drew. Sometimes you spent that time in the company of another; reading as Sanji toyed with recipes or as Nami worked at her charts. Letting the sounds of Franky hammering away lull you or the music from Brook wrap around you. Practicing with your blades to the sound of Zoro’s breathing and weights clacking. But even the comfort of that shared space would eat away at you because they were always doing something useful, creating or studying or finding. While you were just there. Sometimes you wanted to talk, bored by what you had for your entertainment but they needed to focus, and so you would set out to walk around. Again.

You felt like a ghost, wandering the ship, exploring the same whorls on planks of wood and counting the same fish in the aquarium, waiting for someone to go on break and bring you back into existence.

Sanji was your most stable rock. He’d hunt you down and bring you in from your drifting, asking for you to join him in the kitchen, or on the deck, or in his bed. Whatever he thought would bring you from the depths of your mind the best. He’d brush his fingers down your face, and further ask what was bothering you. But the right words never came to mind, nor the want to burden him, and so you’d just say you were taking a walk, that was all. And it wasn’t always as effective as you wished.

The call of land sighted brought new energy into you. Some time on different ground would bring a welcomed distraction. You hoped for one with a bustling city, or at least a quaint little town, but fate liked to toy with you at times, and instead it was an uninhabited forest. You’d take what you could, though. Adventuring through the lush landscape could still be nice; the forest looked beautiful from the ship. You disembarked as soon as the plank had dropped, eager to move your legs through unfamiliar territory. From behind, you heard Sanji call out to you. “Wait for me, my dear!”

You slowed your steps until he was by your side. He brought your hand to his mouth and added, “Wouldn’t want anything terrible to happen to my darling angel.”

His words grated along your spine. Usually, they would have you blushing and smiling, his mouth on your skin electric. But maybe you hadn’t slept enough or eaten enough, because this time they set your teeth on edge. Did he think you couldn’t take care of yourself? So useless, so untalented with the blades strapped to your body, that he had to babysit you? You swallowed it all down and forced a smile. “Of course not.”

Further in, your laces caught on a stick, which caused you to stumble, barely even a misstep really, but Sanji caught you anyway, slipping his arm around your waist without missing a beat. A warm gesture made sour by your mood, and you didn’t hesitate to pull away from him, mumbling your thanks as you did. You could walk just fine for fucks sake.

Since you were ahead of him now, you missed the way his face fell, the way his eyebrows twisted up in confusion. You continued on, however, pointing out something in the trees like everything was fine.

He didn’t try to touch you again, and you thought you could feel his hesitance to do so. He still walked close to you just in case—he was always incapable of keeping himself away from you—but didn’t say anything himself.

It was an odd and uncomfortable silence that followed, one that you weren’t used to having with Sanji. It wasn’t as though you spent all of your time talking; you would sit in a companionable quiet often, as you each worked at your own respective tasks. But this one was charged, and you already felt the hollow pit in your stomach growing. There wasn’t anything you felt you could do about it, however, as the burn of anger was just a little stronger.

As you forged ahead, you caught an odd sound in the air. A sort of soft thump that had lasted but a second. You paused, wondering if you really had heard anything at all, when a rustle of leaves followed. It did not come from behind you, where Sanji trudged along, but instead to your left. You drifted your hand to the knife strapped to your thigh, ghosting your fingertips along the handle while considering the foliage. Another rustle.

Sanji saw your stance and asked, “My dear?”

A flash of white and suddenly a mouthful of fangs was lurching towards you. You whipped your knife out, blade facing down and sharp side outwards, ready to slice at the throat that sat nicely at arm level. Sanji, however, had always been faster; his leg striking out, foot connecting with a loud crack to it’s skull. It’s head snapped to the side and fell with a thud to the ground. His arms were wrapped around you an instant after, pulling you close to him as well as away from the body. It had been a mountain lion.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked. He tried to cup the back of your head so that he could look you in the face, but you stubbornly stared at the ground instead.

“I had it,” you said.

“I’m sorry?”

“I fucking had it,” you repeated. You planted two hands to his chest and shoved, hard. Once separated, you took a few more steps back to increase the distance.

“Oh,” a pause. “Well, I just, I wanted to make sure nothing bad happened. And it would have been so unfortunate for you to get blood on your nice clothes!”

“Because I can’t handle myself.”

Sanji’s face blanched. “No! No, I’m sure you can, I just—”

“You think I’m useless. ‘I’m sure you can.’ Don’t fucking mock me,” you hissed.

“That’s not at all—”

“No. You all think it. I see it, I can feel it. I simply don’t compare. I drag you all down. Have to stop whatever the fuck you’re doing to save me from that.” You flung a hand out towards the cooling corpse. You paced around, refusing to look at him and see what effect your words might be having. “Cause I’ll just make a goddamn mess of it, won’t I?”

Your limbs started to shake as you spoke, your throat getting tighter and tighter. You balled your hands into fists, nails brutally digging into your skin. Your chest heaved from your panting. A sudden need to hide, to run, filled you. You couldn’t stand to have Sanji looking at you. His gaze was burning, making you writhe in panic and shame.

“Y/n,” he said, taking a step towards you.

“Go away. Go make lunch or whatever.” Your breath hitched at the last word, a sniffle sneaking its way through. You bit down on your lip, furious with your body for betraying you. “Just fuck off.”

You stormed off before he could say anything back. Sticks and branches whipped across the exposed parts of your skin as you hurried your way through. You needed to move, to not think, to try and get rid of the awful feeling curdling your insides. Sanji did not follow, and it may have been what you wanted. You weren’t sure. It would have been worse and made it better if he had. You shook your head, you didn’t know what you wanted at all.

You eventually stopped at a fallen log and plopped down onto it. You buried your face in your hands and an unbidden sob tore up and out. You choked on the feeling, unprepared, and the one that followed hurt your throat just as badly.

What on earth was wrong with you? How could you have said that to him and shoved him like that? The disgust you felt with yourself was palpable. He did not deserve a single one of those harsh words, but you had thrown them at him anyway. It wasn’t even his fault but you treated it like it had been. He’d just been the closest target when it all suddenly snapped, and you had been gross enough to tear into him.

It was a long while before your sobbing ceased, leaving you spent and boneless. You thought of how you should probably make your way back, but still didn’t move. Your shame kept you rooted to the spot. You let your feelings get to you, and now you've ruined it all.

It was only when the shadows had started to grow longer and longer—when the bare spot on the log from your picking off the bark was just a little too large—that you decided you needed to go back. The warmth had left the forest and the sky was turning from that clear blue to a lighter purple. It wasn’t doing you any good to sit here, and it especially wouldn’t to do so all night. You picked your way back, wary of any errant roots or rustling leaves.

——

You slipped your way into the kitchen and stood in front of the door for a moment, simply watching Sanji as he moved. The dining room was dark—the only light coming from the kitchen—leaving you plenty of time to sulk in the darkness. He glowed under the warm, yellow hue as he cleaned, wiping down the counters after moving all the plates to the sink. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, and you could see the growing stack in his ashtray that sat at the edge of the counter. Your stomach twisted, knowing you were at fault for all of them. Your heart hurt even more when he finally stopped in front of the sink, his hands clinging to the edge and his shoulders dropping, and let out a long sigh.

You walked up to the counter and settled yourself on the seat. You kept your head hung low in shame, and so you missed the way Sanji nearly jumped out of his skin.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you apologized before he could say anything. “I know that none of what I… accused you of was what you meant. That wasn’t fair of me. I’m sorry.”

It was all you could get out before your throat started to close dangerously on you. You swallowed hard in the ensuing silence. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze the longer it went on and soon made to leave. He didn’t have to forgive you, you knew. All that was important was that you apologized and left the rest to him. You didn’t deserve his absolution anyway.

“You’re not useless.” His voice stopped you short. “I don’t believe that and neither does anyone else on this crew.”

That wasn’t what you had expected to hear, and wasn’t necessarily the conversation that was supposed to be had. You shrugged, rubbed your ear on your shoulder, not knowing what to say.

“You contribute plenty,” he continued. “You pull your weight in every adventure, you hold your own. You help maintain the ship and offer your help to us all constantly.”

“Everyone does that,” you said. “I don’t have a role here. There’s nothing special or important that I do. You could replace me and it wouldn’t make a difference at all.”

Another beat of silence. “Have you ever noticed how little sound you make?”

You lifted your head enough to look at his throat. He’d unbuttoned the top few, leaving his skin exposed, you noticed. It sat low enough that you could see a bit of his chest hair peeking through. You shrugged again. There were times you walked up to someone on the ship, scaring them as they hadn’t heard you. You felt some guilt more than anything each time it happened.

“That’s been useful. You sit down in a bar and no one thinks anything of it, and then they spill out all the information we need. And you bring it right back to us.”

“Unremarkable and easily forgotten. Right. Great. I knew that,” you huffed.

“Stop that.” He tried to harden his voice, but with you, it would always come out softer. “Don’t go twisting my words again. That’s not at all what I meant.”

What you had just apologized for. You really were hopeless, if you were going to say sorry and then just continue to be awful. “Right. I’m sorry.”

You saw him lift his hand towards you, but stopped to grip the counter, his thumb pressing circles into the surface as though he were feeling at the grain of the wood. “It’s okay. You have a way of pulling words out of people, too. When you ask for locations, for information, from people at the market, they’re happy to give it. You walked right up to an enemy once and he gladly told you all we needed to know. The rest of us aren’t always so successful.”

You frowned, continuing to stare at his hand. “The rest of you are plenty good at it, especially you and Nami and Robin.”

“Mmmm. Robin-Chan is very good at it, just so smart and beautiful, but the more the merrier, right? And Nami-san is quite the charmer, that absolute beauty, but she did get snappy last time… and I had to yell at the guy.”

You remembered. Nami had put on a good show, keeping her voice saccharine sweet and leaning forward enough to give him a good look down her shirt. The man didn’t budge though, just frowned deeper. She had indeed gotten snappy, and the guy got snappy right back. And Sanji had not hesitated to dig into him. “Yeah, you and your attitude problem.”

“Huh!?” You could imagine how his mouth dropped open. “Attitude problem?”

The corner of your mouth lifted. “Yeah, you get so snarky.”

“I only gave that brute what he deserved. What every brute I meet deserves.” You heard him mutter the word snarky to himself.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “You do.”

You dug a fingernail into the wood of the counter as the conversation trailed off. It was solid and your nail did nothing at all to it, but you worried away at it anyway. You still couldn’t look at him. There was more to it that he wasn’t seeing. This wasn’t something you were ready to let go of yet. He was painting you in too nice of a picture and it didn’t feel right.

“It’s just…” you started. “I don’t do anything useful on the ship. I’m not—I’m not contributing or doing anything productive with my time. You,” you lifted your hand to wave it at him, “cook for everyone. Nami makes maps, Brook plays music, you’re all doing something to— to improve. And I don’t.”

There was a pause again, as he weighed his words. “I see you do plenty to improve yourself, but I don’t think that’s where you should put your worth, necessarily. Tell me, what does Luffy do that’s so productive?”

“Well, that’s not—” you sputtered. “He isn’t like— I mean he’s the captain and he’s just him— He does some chores sometimes—”

“So do you think he’s useless? That he’s not contributing?” Sanji asked, cutting you off.

“No! No. He does a lot for us, he’s done everything for us, so I don’t expect more from him.” It was hard to put into words, the weight that Luffy carried, and the significance of his actions for his crew. But you didn’t have to word it right, for Sanji to know. You knew he understood perfectly.

“So why do you expect more of yourself?”

You didn’t think it would do much to argue anymore. There was a whole list you felt you could give, but you could also bet that Sanji would find a rebuff to each one. It felt a little nice, to think that he was always thinking the best of you, even if you didn’t agree, didn’t deserve it.

“I respect you an awful lot, Y/n. You are right where you are supposed to be.” His voice was soft, and he had leaned closer to you to say it.

Your eyes burned terribly and your lower lip wobbled dangerously as his words filled you with an almost unbearable warmth. There was a painful squeeze in your chest at hearing the exact words you needed to hear, from one of the mouths you wanted to hear it most from.

Sanji cupped your cheek, trying to finally bring your gaze to his, but you staunchly refused. “Come to bed with me then, yeah? You must be so tired,” he suggested.

“Oh Sanji, I’ve been rotten. I don’t deserve to share your bed.” It was difficult to speak around the thickness of your throat, and you could tell by the sound of your voice that there was no hiding the tears that threatened to spill over.

Sanji threw himself around the counter, unable to resist keeping his hands off of you any longer, and wrapped an arm around your waist. With his other hand, he forced you by the chin to finally look him in the face.

“Don’t say such a thing, there isn’t anything about you that could ever be considered rotten. It feels like blasphemy just to utter the word anywhere near you, when it has so little to do with you.” He brought his thumb to wipe away the tears that began to fall down your cheeks, and then dusted his fingers down your face, caressing you gently. “And you deserve even more than my bed, more than I can give you, but I want you all to myself anyway. Sharing it with you is the least I can do.”

“But I was mean—” your own hiccup cut you off.

“Because you were hurting and didn’t know what to do about it. That’s an easy thing to forgive.”

You couldn’t take it any longer and buried your face in his chest. He was just so understanding, so unbelievably sweet. He picked you apart so well, able to find the root of it without much effort. You didn’t deserve such pure love. Why didn’t he get that? He had never spoken to you the way you had to him. You’d been awful. You knotted your fists into his shirtfront, pulling him in as close as you could. You didn’t know how to handle such goodness, your body shaking with your sobs, and so all you could do was hold and be held.

Softly, Sanji cooed at you. Words said directly into your hair so that he could kiss your head danced around, a litany of “it’s okay” and “I’ve got you”. He squeezed you impossibly tight, as though he wanted to take all your hurt from you, and cupped the back of your head.

Only once your breathing slowed and ceased to only a few soft hitches and your grip went from brutal to lax on his shirt, did Sanji ask, “Is there anything you would like?”

You would like a lot of things, but at the moment, you did not feel you had a right to any of them. But you’d be selfish and take what was offered. “Sleep.”

“We can do that.”

“And maybe…” you frowned. You really shouldn’t be asking for more. Not now.

“And maybe?” he prompted. “Anything at all, I promise.”

“Hold me. And, I don’t know. Kiss me a little.” You toyed with the soft fabric between your fingers. “I appreciate you, I swear. I do like when you help me, save me. Stop me from tripping. I don’t want you to stop touching me.” Your voice went higher as you fought more tears. Fuck, you had just stopped, but your lip was ready to wobble anyway. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

He brought both hands to your face and immediately peppered you with kisses. “Oh, my love, of course I’ll do so. Just breath, okay? Breath.”

You sniffled and swallowed hard, nodding and trying to do as he said. “Do you still like me?” you asked.

His chuckle was a soft exhale, tickling your skin as he had not stopped kissing you. “Yes!” he spoke in between each one. “I always have and always will. There is nothing that could stop me from liking you, from loving you.”

A shaky inhale and exhale. “Okay. Okay.”

“Yeah,” he said back. “However, if I may suggest, are you sure you’re not hungry? I could bring your food to our room if you’d prefer. You skipped lunch and dinner. You had me worried.”

Your stomach rumbled at the reminder of food. “Oh. Maybe. Yeah. And I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to.”

“It’s alright. Just… be angry here next time? Where I can know where you’re at?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t—” another hiccup. “I don’t plan to get upset, but yeah. I’ll do that.”

He pressed a long and lingering kiss to your forehead and breathed out, “Thank you.” He squeezed you against him, bringing you as close as possible for this hug, before he lifted you up and started the journey to your room.

“I love you,” you mumbled into his neck.

A smile stretched from ear to ear on his face. “I love you too.”

The rest of the night was spent in each other’s warmth and care. He fed you himself, adamant that you let him pamper you so. It was nice, since all that crying and the deliciousness of the food made it difficult to keep your eyelids from fluttering shut.

When you drifted off, it was to Sanji’s steady breathing and the soft beats of his heart, his arms firmly around you as he held you close.

[jiminiecrickets]

MILK & TWO SUGARS. KTH / M!READER

summary. despite being your subordinate, taehyung relishes in his power over you.

wc. 4.9k

tags. boss/assistant au, dom top!reader, bottom!tae, tae films himself to tease you, oral (r. receiving), office/desk sex, unprotected sex, officemates-with-benefits (sort of)

[ requested ]

the train carriage rocks and rumbles, steel and electricity burning beneath your feet. you hover beside the moving join between carriages, counting down the number of stops until it reaches yours. aside from the not-so-inconspicuous journalist snapping pictures of you across the carriage, it has been a fairly smooth ride.

he's wearing a cap, staring down at the flip-out screen of his dslr, pointed just right in your direction. he's far enough away that the photos probably don't seem that creepy – not i-pretended-to-bump-into-you-for-this-picture creepy, at least – and he's not holding the camera low enough to angle your crotch as the focal point, which is more than you can say for some other journalists. sure, you may have had a wild youth, but you were square now – just a guy in a suit on his phone with a messenger bag strapped across your chest. the most interesting thing about you was the fact that a bouquet of purple and yellow flowers stuck out one end of your bag.

for all the other commuters knew, you were heading home to kiss your wife and your two-and-a-half kids. you would like to keep it that way, isolating yourself with earbuds playing a rotation of your favourite songs.

on your phone, your insanely efficient and ridiculously beautiful personal assistant has just stopped using capital letters and proper punctuation.

seriously where are you? your coffee's going cold :(

you huff. you told him to wait a while longer before grabbing it since you needed to stop by the florist, but he had always been strict about your schedule. if it wasn't on the document, it didn't exist.

a couple more stops to go, you reply, glancing out the windows to ensure you're not getting his hopes up. nine minutes.

can't you get here any faster?

no, taehyung. it's always going to be nine minutes.

despite his profile picture only being his initials – KT, matching at least four other people in your phone – he manages to inject a whole lot of personality into his next message.

then don't walk, desk jockey. what can i do to make you gallop? the bubble of three dots pops up. perhaps i can tempt you over with a carrot?

please stop it with the horse metaphors.

but you're the only one i wanna ride <3

you nearly choke on your saliva, hastily pressing your phone screen to your chest for privacy. you steel your nerves when your phone vibrates again, chasing away the heat crawling rapidly up your neck. you take a deep breath and glance down.

a video. you tap the play button and the window expands to take up your screen.

the first thing you notice is that taehyung's not wearing any pants. he's wearing everything but pants, and you even see a flash of his playful smirk as he tightens his tie when he glances down. he smooths it down, down his stomach, and leans back in a chair.

your chair.

holy shit. he's in your office.

he tucks one foot up onto the edge of your desk, polished pointed shoe pivoting as he makes himself comfortable. he rests on the point of his elbow, cradling his jaw with long slim fingers.

he wraps his slender fingers around his cock, revealing it from beneath the bottom of his crisp white dress shirt. only the bottom sliver of his face is visible, soft and shapely pink lips playing at innocence, tucked teasingly between his front teeth.

your music doesn't provide a buffer anymore. on instinct, you darken your screen and slam the mute button, thumb working at the phone's volume button in excess.

but, because you have terrible vices, you slowly edge the volume back up until his soft, breathy moans rattle in your skull like a marble inside a can of spray paint.

"hey, boss," he whispers, fingers rolling over his reddened tip, cock dark pink and shining in his grip. he plays at formality, straightening his jacket lapel with his free hand. his hand drops down to cup his bare thigh, golden and soft, and slides gently over his skin, back and forth – caressing himself the same way you do. he exhales softly, back arching. the chair's leather shifts audibly. "come grab your coffee, already. aren't you thirsty? i sure am."

dropping his leg, he pushes his shirt up around his chest, and lifts his phone above him with a sound between a hum and a moan. taehyung twists in your black leather chair, its tall slim shape highlighting the way he angles his hips to accentuate his waist and hips and the way his soft thighs fill up the seat of the chair.

you close your eyes for a steadying breath, shifting on the spot as the train pulls up to your station. thank goodness you had the epiphany to wear a dark suit today. it'd be a particularly awkward gossip piece for that journalist – yes, still there – if you'd worn something lighter.

"i'll be waiting, big boy," he coos directly into your ears, the breathiness in his voice and the flush to his cheeks letting you know just how long he's been in your chair.

he's going to be the death of you.

you weave your way through the station, hurrying down the stairs with your phone in a death grip, screen off. it pings when the pedestrian crossing lights turn green and your mouth goes dry at the sight of another video, described only by date and file type. you struggle to swallow.

on his knees, lovely round ass presented to the camera, taehyung pumps three fingers in and out of his slick hole, the shine of lube dripping down his thigh. his moans are quick and muffled by the palm over his mouth, his cheeks glowing pink with desire, and his hips jerk as he pulls his knees close together. his cock presses firmly along the seam of the back of his thighs.

hissing softly, he pulls his fingers out with a slick pop, lubricated until the knuckle. he glides his fingertips around his hole, showing himself off with a soft giggle, and rocks back on them until his cock twitches. it leaks as he fucks himself with them.

"ah...! get down here, already – my fingers aren't as thick as yours, baby. m-maybe i could still come on them, though," he moans slyly, the quick slick sound of his pumping fingers jolting shivers down your spine. "gonna fucking come on myself, come on your desk – every time you enter this office, you're gonna remember the way i made you feel." 

he moans with a toss of his head as his hand quickens. his leaking cock pulses and he bounces slightly on his fingers, that little bit of friction from his cock bumping his thighs almost enough.

"what is it... that you said?" he grins back at the camera, dark eyes smoky and devious. "only angels have bodies like mine? well... white was always heaven's colour."

his lips part as his dark brow furrows, his grip tightening on the back of the chair as his hips tremble. his cock explodes with cum, spurting out in thick white ropes that splatter the backs of his thighs like the sweetest glaze. he spreads his jerking, trembling thighs, and his release slowly pools on the black leather between his knees. he pants softly, wordless.

in the silence of your earbuds, your head rings with the anticipation of your pounding heart, nearly sprinting the half-block down to the skyscraper with your last name printed on it. you push through the large glass doors carelessly – they're shatterproof, and they'll survive you shouldering your way through them.

on your phone, taehyung lets out a soft exhale that sinks claws into your brain. glossy white beads drip from the edge of your chair between his unblemished legs, and if that's not a scene of the divine, then you don't know what is.

shit. hastily, you pass the receptionists and slip into an empty elevator someone left behind. swiping your card, you punch the button for the highest floor, and survive the agonising seconds up, dumping your earbuds and phone unceremoniously into your bag.

the elevator dings, and you're shoving yourself through the tiniest gap the moment it appears with a problem in your pants and a problem at your desk.

lazily, taehyung grins, pink tongue swiping over his lips. one hand strokes his pretty cock under the desk, the motion of his arm perfectly clear.

"hey there, big boy," he purrs. "finally here for your coffee, right?"

you grunt noncommittedly, extracting the bouquet of flowers from your bag before dumping the bag on the loveseat by the elevator. you place it in a white vase and wiggle it back into place on the cute pigeonhole shelf.

you turn back to him, and he's standing now, leaning forward over your desk with that same silky smile. "done with playing uncaring? come over here, make me sorry. i've broken your rules, haven't i, boss?"

"you're a real piece of work," you growl, stalking towards him and yanking him away from your desk to survey the damage. time to put in a request for a new chair. you return your gaze to taehyung, who just smiles demurely at you and strokes the bulge in your trousers.

"a piece of art, don't you like telling me?" he teases, nudging your cock with his knuckles. his smile widens as your breath skips like a record player. he pushes you towards the end of your oak desk. "you liked my presents, did you?"

"presents? that was torture," you rumble, placing your hand on top of his head and fisting a handful of his hair. you tug firmly backwards and his eyes roll back briefly as he moans, hands faltering for just a moment as he fiddles with your fly – you smirk at the sight.

his lashes flutter as he regains control, pupils dilating as he gazes up at you from between your thighs. "but you liked them, right, sir?" he asks softly, almost nervously. he fishes your cock out and his breath hitches, his lower lip tugged between his teeth as he stares up at it.

"is the sky blue, dove?" you ask, softening your voice just for him. he melts like chocolate, pressing himself sweetly into you, and you let go of his hair to card it back from his large dark eyes, tucking the stray strands behind his ears. "but i won't say it didn't surprise me. i was on the train."

"your fault when you have a perfectly good car in the garage, sir," he says with a hum, and he kisses the base of your cock. he lifts your hand back to his hair and you guide his head towards the head of your shaft. with a soft moan, he's all yours again to eat and enjoy, those dark brown eyes almost gold in the late afternoon sun.

"i'll let that sass slide because you're usually such a sweet boy," you say softly, humming as he drags his warm tongue over the ridge of your tip. "good. suck."

he loves the way you talk to him with that voice – a voice like chocolate, sweet and thick and dark. he bobs his head, stroking what he can't fit, and he moans when you hit the back of his throat, filling his mouth and stretching his jaw wide. he works at your cock, tongue lapping at the veins, tracing them to your tip and back, and closes his lips around your shaft, gradually getting all of it down his throat.

he clasps your thighs, letting himself enjoy the heft and heat of your cock filling his throat, and his eyes slide closed, the tip of his nose brushing your pelvis. you exhale softly and pat his hair to watch it bounce back into place, tugging the loose beach curls between two fingers and letting them spring back. it's incredibly soft and silky for someone who's dyed his entire head honey blond for at least as long as he's been working for you.

you cup his cheek as he bobs his head, warm tight throat swallowing your cock, constantly squeezing and fluttering, and your hand shifts to his chin, fingers pressed against the bend of his throat where it meets his jaw. gliding your fingers lower, you can feel your cock sliding against the walls of his throat. when he pulls back until just the heavy tip rests on his tongue, you feel with reverence the way he swallows it down, following the movement of the tip of your cock with each finger it passes.

below, you watch in amusement as he jerks himself off, motions quick and shallow but involving the motion of his whole arm from the shoulder. he moans as he swallows your cock, and your head falls back as your cock throbs from the tight vibrations.

"fuck, taehyung, good boy," you groan, listening to him choke and gag on it as if he couldn't get enough. saliva coats your dick, and it drips down his chin. his parted lips allow him to moan and when he closes his lips around it, he redefines the word 'suck'.

his cheeks hollow, his eyes roll back, and he's so warm and wet around you that your control snaps and you yank his head forward, burying your cock deep in him. he whimpers so perfectly when he feels your cum sliding down his throat, swallowing rapidly. his lashes flutter as he pushes himself deeper and his lips press against your base, making you grunt sharply, fingers tightening in his hair.

even when your grip loosens, your uneven breaths steadying, taehyung keeps you in his mouth, feeling his own hot cum drip down his twitching cock. he doesn't stroke himself, doesn't pull away – just contents himself during the aftermath of his high with keeping his mouth full, blinking slowly like a cat at the hazy middle-distance.

you have to slide him off your cock and he protests, whimpering softly as his nails dig into your thigh. you wrap a hand around yourself, pumping it slowly, and taehyung stares on yearningly, licking his lips subconsciously when a bead of cum slides down your tip.

"do i need to look at what you've done," you ask, though your voice remains steady at the end like a statement. "pretty thing, we are in my office. that means no messes."

"doesn't feel as good as when you're in me," he rasps, leaning up and kissing the base of your cock. "please, baby? promise i'll clean up later."

"you can't always get your way through flattery," you chuckle as he stands, tilting and falling against you as if he belongs there, wrapped in your arms. one hand travels further down and cups his ass, squeezing the supple warmth of it. he moans airily.

"it's worked so far," he whispers. "go sit down, big boy. gonna ride you like you deserve."

"what, you're going to tease this gorgeous little ass and i'm not allowed to have a taste?" you tease, and taehyung grins, pressing chest-to-chest with you. "you're a cruel man."

he smiles, still panting softly, and presses his lips to the line of your jaw. "maybe later," he murmurs. "will you clean me up and take care of me afterwards?"

"depends on my mood, pretty," you hum, guided over to your seat and watching as he sets himself atop your lap. you squeeze his thighs, sitting up against his back.

"you're a chivalrous man, boss. you wouldn't force me to walk home with your cum dripping down my leg," he chuckles, placing his ass over your cock and grinding against it. he grips the armrest and turns his head over his shoulder to kiss you, the other hand coming up to grip your hair. "mm – fuck me already. wanna feel your cock fill me up like a whore – been waiting for ages to get you alone for this."

"you could always call me outside of work, you know?"

"but where's the fun in that?" he teases, and sinks down on your cock with a breathy relieved moan that makes you shiver.

holy fuck. he's so damn warm, so wet. for a moment your thoughts fizzle out into pleasant static shooting down your spine and out to your fingers and toes. just being with him, close to him, enveloped by his faint blue cologne, makes heaven an afterthought.

when you come to and open your eyes – despite not remembering closing them – you are met with taehyung's soft smoky gaze, his warm palm cupping your cheek. he smiles, breathless, as he leans in, closing his eyes and pressing your foreheads together. "you're handsome when you come."

after taking a moment to gather yourself, you frown slightly, shifting your hands higher on his thighs. no, you are most certainly still hard. "wishful thinking, much?"

"no, that was better than watching you come." he nuzzles into your cheek and jaw, then presses your foreheads together again with a soft roll of his hips. the action has you gasping and he slots his mouth against yours, taking advantage of the moment of weakness to slip his tongue between your teeth.

knowing he, your quiet, pretty little secretary, is the one to bring you down from your pedestal, fills him with insurmountable pride. smugness, too – a healthy dose of it. after all, the media made you into the country's most eligible bachelor, and still here you were, leaning into his touch like a soft college boyfriend. you've spent every waking moment since you turned eighteen having columnists nipping at your heels and biting into your clothes, your friends, your love life, and anything else they can twist into drama or some moral fault with you. he knows how high your walls are because of it and the fact that you decided to give him a chance, to let him help you, despite looking like every one of the scandalmongers who've ever hurt you, makes him proud.

you'd never truly lost that pureness about you, that faith in people's goodness that most lose the first time they're betrayed by those they love. that is a very hard thing to do when so many close to you have had some dark immortal want to leech out of you.

taehyung's getting ahead of himself. he can start thinking such things when you start calling him your boyfriend.

"i missed you," he whispers, breath hitching as the ridge of your cockhead catches on his rim. he reaches behind himself, guiding himself onto your dick, and his fingernails dig into your shoulder as he throws his head back with a breathless moan.

"yeah?" you murmur, because you can't ever stay upset at taehyung. "it's only been a few hours. fuck. mm – couldn't have known. maybe you should've sent me a few more videos of yourself."

he tries to gasp in offence, but it comes out too breathy, too pleased. he bounces on your lap with his creamy thighs bracketing yours. "pig. why do you want videos when you have the real thing right in front of you?"

"so i can remember you on lonely nights in foreign hotel rooms."

he scoffs, chuckling softly as he circles his hips, making you groan and tighten your grip on him. he cups the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. "give me a promotion, big boy. then your nights won't have to be so lonely."

"you and your silver tongue," you murmur, placing your hands on the curve of his ass, the tiny dip of flesh at the base of his spine. he arches into your touch with a soft sigh, clenching around you and enveloping you in his velvety heat.

"mhm. you know what my tongue can do," he teases, content to fill himself up with you and do nothing else for the rest of the day. he could sit here, pretty as a princess, for the rest of his life and he'd have no qualms about it.

you, however, have different ideas.

you hook your arms under his thighs and rise to your feet, swiping pens and papers clear of your desk and onto the floor with a clatter – he laughs – and you set him down on your desk, kissing his jaw and neck. you nip at his earlobe and he growls in warning playfully, yanking your hair to bring your throat closer to him. he sucks a hickey onto the sensitive skin, the sting giving way to pleasure far too easily.

he spreads his knees and leans back, grabbing your cock with one hand and bracing against the desk with the other, and slips you back inside him with a long moan of bliss. "y-you're so big..."

"don't stroke my ego," you chuckle, stroking his soft, smooth hips and thighs as you thrust hilt-deep into him, easier now that he's adjusted. "god knows it's big enough as it is."

"of course i have to. you're the – the top man." his breath hitches as your cock glides against his swollen prostate, dragging against it roughly with how tightly he's stretched around you. he swears he can follow the line of the veins when it rides against his gummy walls with a harsh thrust. "oh, fuck! baby!"

"that feel good, hm?" you murmur into his ear, the sweet decadence of it rolling over his brain like waves over the shore.

"yes," he moans, eyes rolling back as you press into him, a single shift of the angle of your hips enough to make his back arch and his mouth fall open. "yes, yes! ah, f-fuck, right there – right there, harder, don't stop..."

you know his body like the back of your hand. gripping his thighs until they dimple under your fingertips, you pull out until just the tip rests against his hole. with a snap of your hips, you bury yourself deep in his warmth, making him jerk and cry out. his cock spurts prematurely and he gnaws on his lower lip, squeezing his eyes shut to will down his budding high. his nails dig into your shoulders.

"i told you," he pants, glistening eyes raising to meet yours. "harder."

what your secretary wants, he gets.

your cock slams directly into his prostate and he gasps, whimpering softly as you set a quick, hungry pace. still unsatisfied, you push your mouth against his, tongue dipping between his lips to taste his coffee.

milk, two sugars.

he always had a sweet tooth.

his damp hair sticks to his temples, the perfect salon waves bouncing rapidly with each smack of your hips against his ass. he moans into your mouth as his cock jerks, swollen and heavy against his slim stomach. it bounces with each powerful thrust and he cries out, the sweet sound echoing in your office for anyone to hear.

he whines softly, a softer sound than he'd ever let anyone else hear. he claws at your shoulders and sides, panting against your lips and submitting to your demanding kisses with messy clouded lust. the slap of skin on skin only arouses him further and he grabs your tie in a white-knuckled grip, tugging your mouth down against his the moment it parts for air.

"close," he whimpers into the kiss, and his eyes flutter back into his skull as your cock punches the breath out of his lungs, fucking him faster, harder, deeper. he opens his eyes, half-lidded and dazed, as you sweep his hair out of his eyes, combing it back gently with your fingers.

you tug. he comes.

his velvety searing heat swallows you whole, animal in its hunger, and he digs his heels into your lower back, forcing your cock deeper in him until you have no choice but to follow him over the precipice, crashing over it like blue waves over white rock. his pleasure is engulfing, almost stifling despite his tenderness. he curls into your grasp, panting and nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and his hot, shuddering breath stirs against the fine skin of your collarbone.

when your hips slow to give him a moment of respite – surely he'd want one, you thought, barely able to eke out a gasp of your name – he instead takes the chance to chastise you.

"couldn't you have... finished... any faster?" he huffs, his chest heaving as he gulps down air between words. "you've a meeting in five minutes."

with your thoughts still lingering on the image of taehyung's bliss and the clandestine knowledge that he'd made a mess on your desk, you take a moment to respond. when you do, you're incredulous.

"wait, are you trying to keep me on schedule? now?"

"it's... it's office hours. i still have to do my job." he rolls his eyes, as if you aren't balls-deep inside of him. you remind him with a few shallow, gentle thrusts – he sucks in a shaky breath and tips his head back with a shake to let his bangs fall more comfortably over his forehead. "lord knows you're not the one keeping an eye on your timetable."

"we can talk about that later, and just reschedule that damn meeting. they'll wait for me." you press your lips to the dip just beneath his ear and he hums, lazily content. then, as if remembering that he has to play bad cop and not laze in the comfort of your touch, his eyes flutter open and his mouth thins into a straight line.

"you're making a bad habit out of this," he argues. there he is – your fiery assistant. if you looked at him now, you'd never know he'd just been making dirty videos with sultry smiles.

"the best kind of habit," you murmur, shifting your hips. his breath hitches and his grip tightens involuntarily on your shoulder, making you smirk. "don't worry, taehyung. i'll give you the rest of the day off. you need one – at least today because of me."

his frown deepens at your cheeky comment, even though his cheeks flush. "i don't take days off."

"you always say that, but what are you doing right now? working hard or hardly working?" you tease, sliding your hands up his thighs and hips.

"it's – different," he manages to gasp out, clicking his tongue when your nails drag over the veins of his messy cock. "stop that. you have a meeting, remember?"

you draw your hand back. "i was working when you sent me those videos. i seem to recall you were, too. this feels unfair."

"unfair?" he repeats. "you liked them. you always like them." he pauses. "don't you?"

"i'm not sure the other people on the train appreciate your beauty as much as i do." you kiss him and he hums, accepting your tongue into his mouth with a sigh of pleasure. "don't stop sending your videos."

"is that an order, big boy?" he whispers.

"yes, it is," you reply, and he smiles, brief and sweet. you pull out of him gently, rubbing the join between his hip and thigh soothingly as he moans softly through bitten lips. "now, you have an email to write. that meeting won't postpone itself."

he huffs, allowing you to help him down from your desk. he turns around, leaning over it to grab his laptop from the corner, and you press yourself into his back and ass, teasing your cock against his hole. the coffee he grabbed for you sits cold on the edge of your desk next to the pen holder.

"tell me what the email says," you murmur into his neck, caressing his stomach with one hand and teasing his nipples with the other.

taehyung's breath shudders as he nods, opening up the calendar and shifting the meeting to three days later. moving it a few hours means you look sloppy with your time management, and so does one day. three days looks like a choice – like you have better things to do with your time. these men don't have anyone else to go to, so they'll wait for you no matter what.

"your conference with mr ln has been moved to thursday, august twenty-first. please see attached—" he closes his eyes as your hand wraps around the base of his cock, gently squeezing. "p-please see attached a link to your updated appointment."

you shrug, peppering kisses over the freckles of his neck and shoulder. "good enough. send it."

he clicks send and closes his laptop, pushing it away as you lift him into your arms. he gasps and wraps his limbs around you, holding tight as you move him to the couch on the other side of the room. you hover over him as he pants softly, staring up at you with dark eyes and plump red lips.

"by the way, i've received message that your suit's been delivered to your home," you say with a soft smile. "you're going to outshine everyone at that stupid awards ceremony."

"you say that as if you won't like seeing me in it. you can fuck me in it in the car afterwards. you bought it, after all." his eyes glint dangerously. "maybe i'll wear a surprise under it – to celebrate your successes, of course."

you grin, filthy and boyish, and taehyung's heart flutters. "you've just made me very excited for that day. come grab coffee with me after work – we can test how much space i have in my backseat."

[lxclerc]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

summary... it’s never the right time for  you and daniel, always something pulling the two of you away from each other. requested... yes by literally everyone. yall were coming at me with pitch forks for this warning... age gap (7 years), emotional cheating, physical cheating, angst, angst, angst, light smut (more on fade to black) pairing... daniel ricciardo x horner! reader

note... i am tagging each and everyone of you who asked for a part 2 bc this fic has quite literally loomed over my head ever since i posted it a year ago. literally everytime i open this godforsaken app, someone is offering me their first born for the part 2 so yall better give me all the notes!!!

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

← prev part

high tide came and brought you in

“if you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”

the question caught you off guard as your friend drunkenly pondered over it out loud. where would you go? you were sober enough to say home, the most acceptable answer that would not invite any other follow up questions. it’s simple and doesn't need a discussion. the reason it caught you off guard wasn’t just that though but because your answer was instantaneous in your head. your answer isn’t a where but rather a who, came your bitter realization. 

and you knew that if you could go anywhere in the world right now, it’d be him you’d go to. he always lingers in the back of your mind, everything that reminded him of you tends to bring a certain kind of aching and longing you’ve grown to resent over the months and years spent without him. 

daniel sent you away and deep in you, you know he meant good. he’d done a selfless thing, loving you and setting you free. but missing him was unbearable, loving him all consuming and you resent him for doing this to you. you resent the world for making you fall for a man without letting you have him. 

still, you did as he told you. you went back to school, pursuing a career in a field you knew he’d be proud of, achieving your dreams and living your life as though a part of you hadn’t been left with him. 

your friends carry on with the party. half of university was partying which is a scene familiar to you. this time, it’s on the beach, the salty air and sound of crashing waves echoing with the sound of the music and chatter. still though, you can’t help but scan the place as though looking for him among the crowd of people the same way you always would. you miss the way you’d find his eyes already on you, pools of brown dripping like honey on your skin. 

but he’s never there and you feel dirty whenever another man looks at you, their gazes too eager as they look at you as though you’re a piece of meat, never gentle like his as though you’re aphrodite herself walking among mere mortals. 

you miss him is the ugly truth. you miss him so fucking terribly it makes you angry. you don’t want to miss him. you no longer want to love him. loving him hurts, as though he’s clawing at your chest and squeezing your heart together in a sick sort of torture. 

but even before he touched you, you were his. all he had to do was look at you. you exist in two places – here and wherever he is. 

eventually as the night progresses on, you move away from the party. you’re in some fancy country club and the tile is expensive on your feet as you step out of your heels and walked towards the beach, feeling the cool sand against your skin. 

in hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find him in a place like this but despite looking for him wherever you go, you’d never expect to find him. searching for him has become a comfort the same way longing for him has – in a sick, twisted and painful way. 

but he’s here now and in the one time you hadn’t searched for him, he found you. the moment you’d spotted his figure looking out at sea, he turned to you as though a gravitational pull connected you to him. 

one year, three months and fourteen days. that was the last time you saw him but he looked no different from the man who’d brought you back to your hotel room only to say goodbye. 

and then he smiled and it was as though the sun shone on you again. 

“honey,” he says and your heart trembles. 

daniel.

it was too early. and you’re drunk and you aren’t entirely sure if you were dreaming or not. 

but he stands before you, eyes of brown looking as though you’re aphrodite herself and he can’t quite believe he gets to stand before you. eyes of brown that seem to be sobbing without tears. daniel. 

you’re still not talking and he’s letting you, watching you so intently as though he’s memorizing your face. he looked the exact same but you know what he must be seeing. you look nothing like the woman he left behind. you’d cut your hair short and dyed it. long gone were your summer dress, replaced by tight fitting ones that showed off your body. you feel different and you tried so hard to make sure you wouldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. you hated seeing the woman who couldn’t make him stay. 

but in his eyes, you see your reflection and you recognize her well. 

“daniel,” you muttered as the crashing waves touched your feet. would you love me now? you wanted to ask. 

he smiled again. “you look beautiful as you always are.”

please touch me, you wanted to beg. soft eyes and soft soft hands. you’re lonely without him. 

you manage a grin. “sure, old man.”

the laugh that he let out echoed against your soul. “i’m being honest.”

you missed him. god, you missed him so fucking much. 

but daniel still would not let himself love you. not yet, not now that you’re finally building something for yourself. you have friends and have set goals. not yet. 

“y/n!” someone calls from behind you but you’re hesitant to take your eyes off of daniel, terrified he’d become a figment of your imagination the moment you do. but your friend's familiar calls force you to. “come on, we have to go.”

you ignore her, turning back to daniel and he smiles at you, offering his hand for you to shake. this is the best he can offer for now. “i’ll see you around, kid.” 

you wanted to cry, wanted to scream that it’s so unfair, but you smile sadly as he shook his hand, his calloused fingers so familiar against yours. 

“in a few years,” you say. 

and as the ocean brought him back to you, the waves must return to the sea. 

but you were still gone and gone, gone and gone

the next time you see daniel again, you were twenty four. you’re in your last year of university, applying for your doctorate. you loved academia, you loved your two cats and your little apartment downtown, you loved science and the galaxy it holds and you eventually realized that this is why he let you go. he wanted you to have this — be more than someone who just follows a man around country after country. 

he wanted you to grow, wanted you to find the things you really loved without influence from him. he wanted you to find your independence and learn to stand on your own two feet. 

max brought you here. it’s his first world champion and as his self proclaimed best friend, he refused to allow you to skip this one and so you pulled up your big girl pants and got on with it, arriving in abu dhabi on friday.

by some cruel twist of fate, he’s the first person you find the moment you enter the paddock. it would have been rude to ignore him and so you smile even though you can clearly see the woman next to him and the way she stands close. 

goddamn it. 

it hurt. it hurt seeing her there. it hurt seeing her cluelessly smile at you. the way he looks at you now, eyes of brown full of silent apologies, looking as though he wanted to reach over and touch you, to comfort you. 

you release a shaky breathe, raising your hand in an pathetic attempt of a wave before you walk past him. you aren’t the same young kid like before. now, you have enough self reservation to not actively put yourself in a situation that would only hurt you. you don’t need to play besties with daniel’s new girlfriend. 

the moment you enter the red bull motorhome, you hit max at the back of his head.

“what?” he exclaimed as you glared at him. 

“you’re an idiot,” was all you said before moving towards your father. you’d ignore daniel and his girlfriend. you’re here to support max – even if he is a stupid idiot – and there’s no need for you to obsess over daniel. 

but of course, you still do anyway. even as you watch the race, you’re watching him. he looks good, amazing, fucking edible. he looks like he stepped right out of your dirtiest dreams, all thick neck and stable arms. he looks beautiful, absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking and you selfishly want him just for you. but you’ve always wanted that and you’ve never been allowed to have him.

and then you’re watching her. she’s grace herself, really. she’s exactly the kind of woman he needed and you wonder if she knows about you and then you wonder what it is about her. what is it about her that made it so that daniel thought she’s good enough for him to love when he never could you?

“mate, it’s getting creepy,” max said as he took the seat before you. he looks tired but he looks determined and the way the hair falls over his face makes you smile. max is a very special person to you and you know that he always will. you hold him close to your heart and you know you’d move the earth for him. 

you reach over, fixing the collar of his red bull shirt. “shut up.”

“her name’s caroline,” max says. “if you want to get to know her then just approach her.”

you glared at him. you don’t want to know her name. you don’t want to know what her laugh sounds like or the color of her eyes. you don’t want to know what made daniel fall in love with her. you don’t want to know her. 

“shut up,” you say again. “i’m still blaming you.”

max laughed and you think him annoying you might just be his way of distracting himself from the race so you let him. you let him talk on and on and on the entire time till he’s needed back in the motorhome. you let him steal yur ice cream and tap your nose. 

but when you turned back to her, caroline, you find him staring right back at you, anger and jealousy in those brown eyes you missed so much.

and it was like you’re twenty again, petty and young as you glared right back at him. he had no reason to be jealous when he has her beside him. he has no right to be jealous when he’s the one who’s never allowed the two of you to be more. 

these hands had to let it go free

that night, he called you for the first time in three years. his name lit up your phone and your hand shook as you picked it up. his picture, smiling up at you taken at your twentieth birthday stares right back at you. 

“daniel,” you breathe out as you press the phone against your ear. you’d arrived back in your hotel room two hours ago smelling of champagne and victory. max’s world championship trophy is laying next to you after being forgotten because your best friend was far too drunk to grab it before his girlfriend dragged him out. throughout the party, you avoided daniel like the plague, keeping to your side of the room and never straying towards him. 

“i missed you,” he says from the other end, voice cracking and slurring. he’s drunk and you push back the blanket as you enter the bathroom, hand gripping your phone. “but fuck it, i don’t miss this.”

“what are you saying?” 

“he’s my best mate, y/n.” there goes your name. not sweetheart or honey. he says your name like it’s sacred, something he’s only ever allowed to say when he’s at his most vulnerable, completely raw and baring his soul to you. “and i wanted to fucking punch his face the entire night.”

you close your eyes. this is familiar to you. daniel and his raw honesty when he’s drunk. daniel and his jealousy of max. this is all so familiar to you that you feel twenty again. you feel young and out of control and so drunk in love with a man you can’t have that it physically hurts. he’s ripped you off the past few years where you’ve grown into yourself. you’re twenty again and so tragically in love. 

“i wanted to punch his fucking face because his touching you, because i’m not allowed to touch you,” he continues as you sink to the floor. 

“you’re the only one who’s never let yourself touch me, daniel,” you whispered on the phone, broken down from one phone call.

he laughs bitterly and you might as well not have said anything. “and here i am, can’t even sleep next to my damn girlfriend because i keep thinking of you. it’s so unfair.”

you wanted to laugh too. unfair? how does he get to talk about unfair when he’d been the one to create this mess for the two of you? how dare he talk about being unfair when he’s the one who’s with another girl? this is unfair. it’s unfair to you. he doesn’t deserve to talk about it being unfair. 

the night he left you in your hotel room on your twenty first birthday, you’d called his name again and again like a child. you hoped by some magical thing that he’ll appear. you were desperate. 

“you shouldn’t have come back,” he says. “not yet. we both weren’t ready.” 

you wipe the tears falling to your cheeks. “and when will that happen? when will we be ready? maybe it’s time to accept that it isn’t us.” 

you heard him let out a shaky breath. “don’t say that. don’t say it.”

“i’m so tired of waiting. if it wasn’t us then and it isn’t us now, why do we still believe that it’s us someday?” 

“ask me to stay,” he whispers. “ask me to stay and i will. ask me to drop her and i will. i will drop everything if you ask me to.”

you cry, pulling your knees against your chest. “goodbye, dan.”

struggled through the night with someone new

the next time you see daniel again, you invited him.  you’re twenty five, it’s two thousand and twenty two, you’re engaged and you’d gotten arrogant. 

you met your fiance, james, in university. you’re in the same program and the same friend group though you never paid much attention to him. for the most part, you never really paid much attention to anyone. six months later and he asked you on a date, one you’d declined without a second thought. it didn’t matter how many guys asked you out, you always declined, daniel in the back of your mind always reminding you of what you’re truly waiting for. 

but james never treated you any differently. he never made it awkward and never put you on the spot. for the most part, you both acted like it never happened. but you applied to the same doctorate program and coincidentally  ended up in apartments right next to each other. he was a comfort, a friend you already knew that you could rely on. he never made anymore advances towards you but it was inevitable to grow closer. 

he’s stability and curiosity. he never once pulled back whenever you touched him or apologized for liking you. it was a breath of fresh air – to be admired so freely. you did your thesis together, hands tightly clamped together as you defended it. 

you were the one to ask james out on a date, knowing he wouldn’t again in fear of making you uncomfortable. and after leaning on each other as friends for so long, transitioning to become lovers was so easy, you didn’t have to worry what anyone would say or think of you. you didn’t have to worry what your family would think. everything was easy with him. 

james was so different from the type of love you were used to. you could love him without guilt, without pain and longing. you could love him simply, easily. you didn’t need to ask him to love you back, didn’t need to wonder if he’d still love you tomorrow. it was so easy being with him and you’d gotten lazy. waiting and hurting and crying for daniel was exhausting. 

you wanted a love you didn’t have to fight for. 

you’ve convinced yourself that you no longer felt anything for daniel, gaslighting yourself into believing that you’d close that chapter and left it in the past. you can move on now. there was no need for you constantly being miserable and lonely waiting for him to be ready. 

and yet here you were, your fiance’s arm around you as you stare at the front door. you shouldn’t have invited him. there was no reason for you to do so but you wanted to prove yourself. you wanted to prove to yourself that he no longer affected you. daniel is in the past and you’ve told yourself repeatedly that you’ve let him go but now you wanted to show yourself that you have. 

if you’re lucky, maybe he wouldn’t attend at all.

“are you okay, love?” james whispered against your ear, having noticed your stiff posture. you spent weeks planning your engagement party, stressing over the smallest details but now you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. 

you loved this about him – the way he’s able to read you like an open book. james knows there was someone before him – someone who’d left you broken and torn apart. he just didn’t know that person would be attending today. 

you nod, taking a sip from the champagne glass you’d been holding as an excuse to stop your hands from fidgeting. “just a bit nervous from the crowd.”

“don’t worry too much. it’s just friends and family.” he gives you an assuring smile, accepting your reasoning as he pulls you closer towards him to try and comfort you. 

you’re an idiot, the biggest one there is. max told you himself after you told him that you sent the invite to daniel. you’re a massive idiot and you’re in denial and you set your own trap, tempting yourself when there was no need to and now you were going to hurt james because the moment daniel entered the room, your breath was knocked out of you, heart beating furiously as though it recognized him. 

it was daniel. how can you be so stupid? 

his eyes meets yours and you missed the way those eyes of brown settle on your skin, grazing as though his soul was touching yours. but they’re sad this time – sad and exhausted and defeated and you can practically hear the way your heart shatters. it was daniel. it has always been daniel. it will always be daniel. how stupid were you to think otherwise? how stupid were you to believe you could ever forgot the way your heart and soul roars back to life the moment he enters the room. 

you’ll break james’ heart, you’re breaking your own and you’ve broken his. 

the entire time, you and james had stood before the door, greeting all of your guests and showing them where they can wait. you absolutely had no plans to greet daniel. it was bad enough that he was here, but james, sweet sweet james, who had no idea what he was doing dragging you towards the formula one driver, hadn’t gotten the memo.

he didn’t know that having daniel’s eyes on you so close would set wildfires in your stomach and he didn’t know how exhausting and difficult it was to contain those wildfires. he didn’t know that he was burning himself as he all but dragged you in front of him. 

“hey,” your fiance says cluelessly. “daniel ricciardo!” 

daniel is looking at you and you feel frozen under his gaze. it’s heavy. he makes you feel heavy, like you were cheating on james simply by looking at you. you feel nauseous but with guilt eating up at every cell in your stomach. but you shouldn’t feel guilty. he had no right to make you feel guilty for moving on. he moved on. last you him, he had a girlfriend. why aren’t you allowed to do the same? why can’t you go on with your life and build a future with a nice man that isn’t him?

“i’m a big fan,” james says cheerfully, offering his hand for daniel to shake and forcing him to tear his gaze away from you. 

daniel forces a smile to his face, moving to shake his hand and you know this is the part where you’re supposed to introduce him. daniel is your guest after all and so you clear your throat, hoping your smile isn’t as stiff as you feel like it is. 

“james, this is my friend daniel. daniel, my fiance james.” you manage to let out, gripping your champagne glass to avoid having to touch either of them the same way you avoid the way daniel’s eyes hardened when the word fiance tumbled from your lips. 

“it’s really nice to meet you, mate,” james says with a massive smile. god he’s so nice and sweet and you hate what you’re doing to him. 

daniel says nothing, only smiling and you end this entire interaction the moment you get a chance to. pointing at the snacks table, you turned to him. “there’s food over there and max is around here somewhere. nice seeing you again, daniel.”

you were lying through your goddamn teeth. thankfully, he seems to have taken the hint, walking away without saying another word. 

the entire night, you feel his eyes on you. even as james makes his speech declaring his love for you, daniel stares at you with hooded eyes. he looks pissed and sad at the same time and you wanted to scream. stop looking at me! you couldn’t take anymore of this. he’s looking at you as though you’re under a microscope – staring into your soul like he could reach you there. 

you’re an idiot and now that he��s in the same room as you are, the illusion has left you. you’re not over daniel because you can never be over him. he’s engraved in your soul, his fingerprints all over your heart. he was, and still is, the sun that made your universe turn. you’re choking and you needed to get away lest you burst.

daniel is overwhelming. he’s terrifying and addicting and you hate him but you’re madly in love with him. and worse of all, you’ll spend the rest of your life being in love with him. you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting him and hurting for him and and longing for him and that’s a goddamn fucking tragedy. 

you manage to get through the party, practically dissociating yourself. eventually the guests leave one by one, only your family and closest friends left. you sit on the foyer with max, the dutchman watching you drink champagne straight out of the bottle.

“you shouldn’t have invited him,” he tells you quietly. “you were fucking yourself over.”

you roll your eyes. you stare inside the house where daniel is talking to your father. your dad offered his home for your engagement party. you know he likes james. your mother too and your little siblings can’t get enough of him. that fact almost makes you want to throw up. 

“i thought i was over him,” you say.

it’s max’s turn to roll his eyes. “you’re just a good liar. you’ll never be over daniel and he’ll never be over you. even i know that.”

you glared at him. you already know what he’s telling you and quite frankly, you had no desire to hear it again. “i hate you.” 

“neither you nor dan would survive this long without me.” max laughed and you threw the throw pillow at him. 

not that he’s lying. you met max the same time you did daniel and you clicked immediately. he knows everything, comforted you many times as you pined over dan. he’s your best friend and he’s also daniel’s best friend. he knows more than anyone how deep the connection you two shared. 

“go home already,” you tell him. you’re tired and slightly drunk and you just want to go to bed now. “and make sure you take him with you.” 

max laughed at the way you said him like it’s a bad taste on your tongue but did as you said anyways. 

that night, you laid on the bed you and james shared, you couldn’t sleep. he’s fast asleep next to you, his arm over your stomach as you lay wide awake. you shouldn’t have invited him because now he’s turned your world upside down again. everything you’ve built for yourself was gone the moment his eyes met yours. he’s a plague, sucking all the happiness out of you. 

eventually though, the restless night was about to get worse as you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts till you found his name. you stared at it for a while, knowing that you shouldn’t but you’re rattled and your self control is at an all time low. you shouldn’t have been trusted to make any types of decisions. 

you come back to what you need

daniel was waiting for you when you parked your car outside his apartment building, hand gripping his phone as he watched you step out of the vehicle. four years since he first let you go and one year since he last saw you and you look as beautiful as you ever were.

he shouldn’t have told you to come but he’s so exhausted from staying away, from waiting for the right time. there will never be a right time and tonight, he’s done holding back. he wants you, he always has and he no longer has the energy to stop himself from wanting you. 

“i shouldn’t be here,” was the first thing you said as he opened the door for you. 

a lazy, almost mocking smile covered his lips. “and yet here you are.”

you glared at him but daniel’s heart was soaring. it’s been so long since you were this close. he can smell the perfume that followed you and the scent of your shampoo. he’s so so tired, he just wanted to hold you. 

he’s going to make this as hard as possible, you realize. you’re no longer a child, he doesn’t need to play nice and easy with you anymore. you’re a woman now and he’s going to treat you like one. but you just need to get over this. you need closure. you need to put him in the past where he truly belongs so you can go about your life. you need him out of your system. 

daniel may be everything you wanted but it’s time to accept that he’ll never be what you need. 

“why did you come?” you asked, wanting to get this over with as quickly as you can. three years pining for him in red bull and four years of longing for him and everything leads you here. 

daniel cocked an eyebrow. he’s done with playing nice. “you invited me.”

okay, you walked right into that one. “you still shouldn’t have come.” 

daniel wanted to laugh. “i guess we  both like doing shit that we shouldn’t do. now the question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?” 

“i’m getting married, daniel,” you whispered. “we need to accept that it isn’t us.”

“i thought you did that in abu dhabi.”

he’s being an asshole. “you’re the one who told me to leave. you don’t get to be mad that i’m moving on.”

“you’re not moving on,” he laughed, leaning against the wall. 

you glared at him. “yes, i am. i’m getting married!” 

he looked at you as though you said something hilarious and you wanted to punch him in the face for it. “and yet you’re here.” 

“for closure.”

he stepped towards you and you found yourself holding your breath. from this close, you can see the freckles on your cheeks, the ones you used to spend all your time trying to memorize. the curve of his plump lips and the intensity in his eyes. and when he touched, it felt like the first drop of rain after a million years of dessert. his hand perfectly fitted on your hips, warm and so achingly familiar. 

his hand snaked from your hip to your legs, finger light on your skin as he ever so slightly tugged at your shorts. you need to pull away but your body needs him closer. you want him. you want him to get closer. you want him to touch you more, to feel his skin against yours. you can have every single inch of his body pressed against yours and you’d still begged to get closer. 

his lips graze your cheek before it reaches your ear, even breathes in contrast to your desperately shaky ones. “is that really what you want, baby?”

with every ounce of sanity you have left, you forced yourself to nod and you can feel the way his lips formed into a mocking smile against your cheek. 

“really?” he mocked. “then why are you clutching my shirt like you want more?”

you hadn’t even realized the way your fist is holding on to his shirt, pulling him closer towards you like you’re terrified he’d disappear right between your fingertips. 

“fuck,” you muttered, the heat of his skin against yours dizzying. james is nowhere near your mind as your hand slips under his shirt, self control flying out the window as you feel the curves of his abs. you want him. you’ve always wanted him so desperately that you’re willing to go to hell for it. “fuck me.” 

he kissed you then, fire in his lips as it finally finally touched yours. this is all you’ve ever asked for and it’s worth the damnation you’d be paying in return. you pull him impossibly closer, going on your tiptoes. you need to get closer. closer, closer, closer. 

like an addicted chainsmoker to cigarettes, you can’t get enough of his kiss. you want to inhale the fumes of his breath, of him, deep into your lungs. he tugs at your shirt and you pull away enough for him to get it off. 

you grunt in complaint when he pulled away from you, only to swallow it back as his lips attached to the skin of your chest, licking and nibbling as it slowly made it way down. 

“oh,” you breathe out as he lips attached to your breast, your fingers tugging at his curls as his tongue circled your nipple. 

you should have stopped him the moment his hand unbuttoned your shorts but as he bent you over and his hand slipped between your folds and he trapped your moans with his mouth, you were far too gone. god be damned, morality be damned. you’d crawl through hell for this. 

but eventually, reality comes knocking and morning comes and your bliss ends. you woke up from your phone ringing, cocooned in daniel’s arms. 

“don’t answer it,” he mutters but sleepily, you grab your phone from the nightstand, seeing james’ name on your screen. 

and that snaps you out of it, being reminded of what happened the night before and what you did and you all but jumped out of his arms as though his touch burned you. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you hurriedly put on your clothes, daniel watching you still naked from his place on the bed. you turned to him, “this never happened.”

you watched as anger slowly filled his eyes. “are you being serious right now?” 

“i’m getting married, daniel!” you’re panicking now, screaming as your phone rings again. 

“then why the fuck were you knocking on my door at two in the morning?” 

you ignore him, gathering your things. “it was a mistake.”

he’s glaring at you now, looking like he wanted to start screaming. but he remains silent, only glaring as you gather your things and put on your clothes. 

you look at him again, apologies and sorrow in your eyes. “i’m sorry but this isn’t me. this can’t be me.”

and then you left, not allowing yourself to look back as you ran to your car. maybe in a parallel universe or a different world, you sit next to each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list, but for all the universes and worlds there are, this one was not enough, not for now and not for you and daniel. 

when you finally arrive home, your father is in the kitchen, eyeing you up as you walk past him. “where were you? james was looking for you.” 

you grimace. there’s a knowing look in christian’s eyes as though whatever you reason he already knows will be a lie. and unfortunately, he’d be right. “i was out with friends.”

“at seven in the morning?” he narrowed his eyes and you hated his timing. of all times, did he have to question you now? 

“breakfast.” 

you all but run to your room before he can question you further, thanking all the gods that james isn’t there. for a moment, you stood stunned, reeling from the past twenty four hours as the guilt settles in your chest. you need to get as far away from daniel as you possibly can. you can’t be the type of woman who cheats on her fiance. you refuse to be. you refuse to break a good man’s heart like that. 

and yet as you finally calm down enough to try and fix yourself, your phone buzzes, his name appearing on your screen saying he sent you a text message. 

daniel i’ve loved you in every way i can. i loved you selfishly and so i tried loving you distantly, i tried loving you selflessly, i tried loving you correctly but i just want to love you now. if i could do it all over again, i would love you better but i can’t love you more than i do now.

this love came back to me

the wind is chilly as you step foot in hungary and the dress you wore is definitely not meant for it but still, you persevere, finding your way to the red bull motorhome and greeting your father. the last time you attended a grand prix was abu dhabi 2021 and yet it still feels like home. 

“there’s my biggest fan!” max cheered the moment he saw you, immediately wrapping his arms around you. he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year and he missed his best friend. to be fair, no one has seen you for nearly a year, disappearing from the face of the earth after your failed engagement. 

after the night of your engagement party, the guilt ate you alive as you realized that you were exactly the kind of girl you didn’t want to be and so you came clean to james. he screamed and cried and said you could work it out but you were exhausted from lying to yourself. as long as there was daniel, you can never be happy with anyone else and no man deserve to be someone you simply settled with. 

you realized then that you’d lost yourself. you don’t know who you are, don’t know who you’ve become and so you left everything you know, ignoring everyone’s calls as you attempt to find yourself. 

“actually, i’m supporting ferrari,” you joke once max finally lets you go. 

“i’ll disown you!” your father screamed from across the garage, making you and max laugh. 

“have you seen him?” max asked, whispering as though he’s telling you a secret.

you shake your head. coincidentally enough, or ironically, the first gp you attend in a while, daniel is announced to race in. and max, quite frankly, is far too excited for the two of you to see each other again. he’s had enough watching you both be stupid. 

after catching up with max and the mechanics you still know, you find yourself in a cafe with your father, talking about everything and nothing at all. christian watched your every move and you can see the worry in his eyes. he’s part of the people you ran from and you know that it was a cruel thing to do to your father. 

and then he was there and you’re all too familiar with the feeling of your world freezing the moment your eyes meet. he looks better, happier and you’re sure you look different too, hopefully more grown. 

“you’re here,” he says, unbelieving. 

you smile, genuine and free this time. “i’m here.” 

and this time around, you were both tired of fighting it. it’s him. it’s always been him. there was no point denying it. he’s the only person you’ll ever want. you are totally and irrevocably in love with him – the kind of love that’s so intense it feels like an explosion of fireworks throughout your whole body. the love that leaves you sleepless but exhilarated, speechless but poetic, lost but exactly where you're meant to be. 

and in that moment, your lives flashed before your eyes – marriage, children, growing old together. 

daniel ricciardo is the defining moment, the collision of stars that slammed into you so hard it tore your heart in pieces and only he can put it back together again. 

he smiles at you and you smile back. 

hello, love, welcome home.

and finally, finally, it felt like the world isn’t burning anymore. 

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny

@heyoooo1111 @littlefreaksatellite @imxthunderstorms @o0itsjustme0o @bigdickdannyric1 @hellomumitsme @llarue @ironmaiden1313 @magic-s0ul @lynnthinksthings @vainbimbo @3khaos @chimchimjiminie16 @lost-heartbeat @thxtmarvelchick @s4dgir1jaehyun @dreaminofpoison @lewishamiltonstuff @mk15x @angywritesstuff @that-aesthetic-chic @artemis-medusa @capbuckybuchanan @moonvr @softsakusas @closhelby @

[stu-dyingstudent]

Sakura Haruno fic recs: ANBU ROOT

It only feels right to make my ROOT list now since I posted my ANBU fic list! Similarly to the shadow corps, ROOT had so much wasted potential it actually saddens me. Kishimoto had so many great ideas in Naruto that he just never fully fleshed out and it's a shame. One thing in specific is the whole Torune and Shino situation. Two words: wasted potential!!! It could've been so good and really developed on Shino (and the Aburame clan).

Anyway, once again since our knowledge on the stories and workings of ROOT are limited, this allows for some pretty interesting interpretations. Also, I actually saw an interesting comment the other day about how Sakura would've been a good candidate for the program because of her chakra control and lack of family influence in Konoha and I honestly have to agree. I might be a bit biased, but whatever. Enjoy some root!Sakura recs!

Also, try out my ANBU list (some overlap).

Started: 2024.08.13

Last Updated: 2024.12.19

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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The Small Postures - Celenier || ao3 || T || kakasaku || canon divergence || incomplete

Sakura acts as a spy for Tsunade when Danzo takes an interest in her. While earning her place in ANBU Root, she discovers her own path to greatness. She learns grim secrets about how her village operates, makes terrible enemies, and begins to appreciate the extent of her fractured personality.

The Small Postures was oddly disturbing to me... After Shikamaru is approached for ROOT, it's decided by the higher ups that someone more expendable should infiltrate to take the division down. Sakura is the chosen one, but at what cost? With Kakashi acting as her contact and her only confidant on the matter, how will this affect their relationship? Truth be told, I haven't gotten far enough for any sort of romance, so I have no comments there, but this fic is very well written and quite ominous at times.

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Black Bough - Re_Adrienne || ao3 || unrated || gen || root AU || ongoing

Sakura's parents are civilians.

It does not spare them.

In which Sakura forgets, Sai pretends, and Kakashi can't tell if he's failing the mission.

I really love this fic! Sakura joins ROOT just before her graduation after her parent's death and it's there she meets Sai. Years later the two of them are extracted by Kakashi and she is put under his watch as she readjusts. Part of the struggle is the known fact that she was supposed to be a member of Team 7, which causes some drama (?). There's some super interesting ROOT lore going on and I always have a soft spot for Sai and Sakura friendships!!

Edit: The author has changed the tags and this now seems like it will be a kakasakusai fic.

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Five Kingdoms for the Dead - Evil Is A Relative Term || ffn || M || canon divergence || complete

After the Forest of Death, Sakura comes to realize that being weak is no longer an option. However, she finds that change is sometimes painful and that truth doesn't always come easy. Luckily, she'll have some help along the way.

It's been a hot minute since I've read Five Kingdoms for the Dead, but I'm fairly certain there is some ROOT stuff going on in here! Nonetheless, this is a great fic with some really interesting worldbuilding.

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Trials of Change - Espoiretreves || ao3 || gen || time travel AU || complete

Haruno Sakura made a promise. Looking in the eyes of her Shisou and the reanimated Hokage, she took on the most important mission of her life. Go back in time and try to prevent the 4th Shinobi War. Now, Sakura is back to her 5-year-old body, with all the knowledge and haunting memories of the future. She vows to keep her precious people safe and stop certain events from happening, without altering the timeline too much. The trials her emotions and logic put her through have her questioning her very existence, but for the sake of peace, she has to push forward. No matter what.

Trials of Change is actually apart of a time travel series and I have to say that it is probably one of the best of the genre! This fic is the first of a series and the main focus is ROOT and taking down Danzo. I really adore all of the worldbuilding and backstories going on here in addition to the fact that there are breaks. Yes, the story keeps moving, but there are other things going on, like playdates, and not just Sakura trying to save the world. Also, if you love Shisui then definitely check this out since he has a huge role and his and Sakura's friendship is just so precious.

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cut the head off the snake - itsthechocopuff || ao3 || T || time travel AU || incomplete

when eighteen-year-old, post-war Sakura is thrown back into her tiny, pre-Academy body, she makes a decision. she'd had a childhood once already, and this time, she's more interested in Not Dying when the inevitable shit hits the proverbial fan. so she will work harder, care less, kill more, and smile when she's done.and hey, if she ends up reviving an extinct nature transformation to attract the most corrupt, power-hungry man from her timeline, all the better for her, right?

Such a unique take on a time travel AU and Cut the Head Off the Snake executes it perfectly. Sakura decides that her first order of business is to infiltrate ROOT and that's exactly what she does. Sai, Shin, and Shisui are all great characters and team Ro is present as well. Very good!

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In Another World - eleventheeggo || ao3 || gen || T || orphan Sakura AU || ongoing

What if Sakura was an orphan instead of Naruto and Sasuke?A story about a socially stunted girl who has a thirst for knowledge and is surrounded by softies who love her all the same.

Orphan!Sakura is not something I knew I needed in my life! She is so precious and it's great to watch all of these characters come together for her sake. In Another World also discusses ROOT a bit, which you know I love, so I can't wait for the story to get there.

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Rooted - theRazorofOccam || ffn || T || gen || canon divergence || incomplete

In a universe where Sakura takes a wrong turn, she misses out on the apprenticeship with Tsunade, instead getting recruited by a very different mentor. Life turns out very differently from there on, as she takes the path of a very different kind of ninja. Updates on weekends, unless otherwise stated.

I can't remember too much, but it occurs during the time skip between og and shippuden. At a loss of what to do after her rejection from Tsunade, Sakura decides to join Danzo's program with hopes of becoming a better shinobi.

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parsley seed goes nine times to the devil - Mook_aron || ao3 || M || gen || root AU || one-shot complete

Slow to grow, quick to sprout, parsley seed goes nine times to the devil When she’s six, a man murders her family. The man is tall, and his features are burned into her mind. She won’t forget him- she won’t let herself forget him. Root Sakura au

Sakura is taken into ROOT at a young age and is assigned a mission to infiltrate team 7. Spoilers ig, but Sakura ends up telling Kakashi and what happens from there is sorta open ended. Great story

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I Watched a Change in You - YuffiesNinjaInsanity || ao3 || unrated || narusaku || time travel AU || ongoing

Naruto’s lying across from her, still bleeding out and with his lifeless blue eyes staring at her.

“It’s’kay, Naru.. be joining… you both soon.” She croaks.

Sakura gets sent back in time to a universe where everything is peaceful? She comes from a place where after Danzo's succession to the Hokage title, everyone is ordered to take up ROOT training and so adjusting back to a normal team proves difficult. Tbh, I found this fic kinda frustrating at times, but it's still pretty good.

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Hang Them Up (To Make Them Bleed) - classical_mess || ao3 || T || gen || root AU || one-shot complete

Sakura always used to think a lot of her career as a ninja, but she never thought she'd up here.

Fairly interesting one-shot where Sakura is recruited by Danzo after getting rejected as Tsunade's student. She spends some time in ROOT and Kiba helps her get out. This is on the moments leading up to Danzo's trial. I also quite liked how Tenten was helping out with the seal.

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Sakura - lilac haze || ffn/ao3 || M || minasaku || time travel AU || complete

AU. Non-Canon. Time Travel. Please see inside for full warnings. Cross posted on Ao3. On his deathbed he was granted eternal peace and place to rest for all of time. Of course that was not appealing to him. Ever unpredictable to the end he had a counter offer. One that the Sage had to consider. In which Sakura's going to have a rough time. A really rough time.

I cannot believe that I forgot to add this fic when I initially published my ROOT list!!! Anyway, really good time travel fic with a doomed romance between Minato and Sakura. You watch them, well, Sakura, grow from a young child to an adult and all of the trouble and tragedy that comes her way. Pretty interesting and dark ROOT stuff going on in here.

Check TWs before hand!!

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Anyway, that's all for now!

[frostbitepandaaaaa]

The Beacon - a Rebelcaptain Secret Santa Fic!

merry christmas my dear @incognitajones! i hope it was full of peace and wonder and that you were able to relax, see some loved ones, and give and receive some very special gifts! this is my very special gift to you, my friend! i hope you enjoy my interpretation of cannon-verse different first meeting! i had (and am having) so, so much fun with this prompt and i hope you have half as fun reading it!

many many thanks goes out to @quarantineddreamer for the near-constant encouragment, relentless sprints, and lovely key-smashing. also, as always, my lovely, lovely friend @justwandering-neverlost is the one to thank for the lovely moodboard! thank you so much, my love, for lending your talent to making this gift all the more special! <3

PREVIEW

He had fought well, injured as he was. Had fought with the skill of someone who’d obviously had formal training, but had also fought with the scrappiness and ruthlessness of someone who’d obviously had to fight for their life before. And yet… he had spared her when pretty much anyone else would have shot her dead the moment they’d gotten the upper hand. Just as she had tried to do to him.

“You coming?” his (certainly not pleasantly) accented voice comes echoing from the gloom he had wandered into. She’d been trying to place that accent, but had so far been unsuccessful and she certainly isn’t going to just ask. He halts in his progress, turns back to look at her questioningly. A single shaft of silvery, shivery storm light bands over half of his face, throws his sharp features into stark contrast. He throws his hand out in a ‘what’s the hold up?’ sort of gesture that sends a rush of hilarity up her spine. He’s acting as if this had been the plan all along.

This is such a terrible idea. She couldn’t, shouldn’t, trust this strange man to not try to kill her, abuse her, or any number of other horrible things, anymore than she could trust a rancor to not tear her to shreds. Couldn’t and definitely shouldn’t rely on this man who obviously had a screw or two loose to help her like he seemed so intent upon doing.

People don’t help. People are not kind— or at least not kind for nothing. There’s always a catch.

read it on ao3!

tagging @therebelcaptainnetwork

[skaruresonic]

The common rebuttal to "this reads like fanfic (derogatory)" is "read better fanfic," which is true in certain cases, but on the other hand, there is some grain of truth to the idea that you can tell when someone's primary mode of literary analysis is fanfic instead of... well... literally anything else. It's okay to like or even prefer fanfic, but if you want to take your craft seriously you also need to read books, dude. Published books will teach you a lot of stuff fanfic doesn't, like proper dialogue formatting and how to introduce your reader to unfamiliar characters. Even the crappiest book (well, if it's not After or 50 Shades, which started off as fanfic to begin with lol) will have been subjected to some sort of editing process to ensure at least the appearance of proper grammar. That's not a guarantee with your average fanfic, and hence why you can't always take all your writing cues from fanfic because it's "so much better" than commercially published original fiction or whatever. Frankly, fic writers tend to peddle some absolutist and downright bad takes sometimes. "Said is dead" is a terrible rule, though not because said is invisible and a perfectly serviceable tag; that's just part of it. Dialogue tags are a garnish, not a main dish that can be swapped out for more ostentatious words. If your characters murmur and mutter instead of simply saying stuff, your readers are going to wonder why nobody speaks up. "'I'm explaining some very plot-important shit right now lol,' she elaborated," likewise, is a form of telling. Instead of letting the reader extrapolate that "she elaborated" via the contents of the dialogue itself, you're telling them what to think about it. And that's why it's distracting: your authorial hand is showing. Writing is an act of camouflage. You, as the writer, need to make your presence as invisible as possible so as to not intrude on the reader's suspension of disbelief. That's the driving reason behind "show, don't tell." And overall, everyone could stand to cut down on the frequency of their dialogue tags anyway. Not every exchange needs "he said" or "she whispered" attached as long as you establish who is doing the talking before the exchange. Some people will complain of confusion if you go on for too long without a dialogue tag, and that definitely is a risk, but at some point you also need to resist the temptation of holding the reader's hand. If they can't follow a conversation between two people, chances are they weren't meeting you halfway and paying that much attention in the first place. In fact, you don't even necessarily need action beats in between every piece of dialogue, as Tumblr writing advice posts will often suggest as a fix. Pruning things often cleans them up just fine.

Another fanfic-influenced trend in writing is, I guess, beige prose? A heavy focus on internal narration with lots of telling. It's not a style I can concretely describe, but every time I click on a non-mutual's writing, I feel like it always has, like. This "samey" voice to it. There's no real attempt to experiment and use unique or provocative language, or even imagery half the time. It's almost a dry recital of narration that doesn't leave much room for subtext. I see this style most often in fanfic where you can meander and wax poetic about how the characters feel without ever really getting around to the plot. And it's like. DO something.

Other tells that the author is taking their cues from fanfic mores rather than books: >>too much minute description of eyes, especially their color and their movement >>doesn't leave much room for subtext (has a character speak their every thought aloud instead of letting the reader infer what they're thinking via action or implication) >>too much stage action ("X looked at Y. Y moved to push their seat in. X took a deep breath and stepped toward Y with a determined look on his face. 'We need to talk,' he said.") >>tells instead of shows, even when the example is about showing instead of telling ("he clenched his teeth in agony" instead of just "he clenched his teeth") >>has improper dialogue tag formatting, especially with putting full stops where there should be commas ("'Lol and lmao.' she said" instead of "'Lol and lmao,' she said." This one drives me up a wall) >>uses too many dialogue tags >>"em dashes, semi-colons and commas, my beloved" - I get the appeal but full stops are your friends. Too much alternate punctuation makes your writing seem stilted and choppy. >>"he's all tousled brown hair and hard muscle" and "she's all smiles and long legs." This turn of phrase is so cliche, it drives me up a wall. Find less trite ways of describing your characters pls. >>"X released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding" >>every fucking Hot Guy ever is described as lean and sinewy >>sobbing. why is everyone sobbing. some restraint, pls >>Tumblr in general tends to think a truism counts as good writing if you make the most melodramatic statement possible (bonus: if it's written in a faux-archaic way), garnish it with a hint of egotism, and toss in allusions to the Christian God, afterlife, or death. ("I will stare God in the face and walk backwards into hell," "What is a god to a nonbeliever?") It's indicative of emotional immaturity imo, that every emotional truth need be expressed That Intensely in order to resonate with people. >>pushes the "Oh." moment as the pinnacle of Romantic Epiphany >>Therapy Speak dialogue. why is this emotionally constipated forty-something man who drinks himself stupid every morning to escape gruesome war memories speaking about his trauma like a clinical psychologist >>"this well-established kuudere should Show More Emoshun. I want him to break down crying on his love interest's shoulder from all his repressed trauma" - I am begging u. stop >>"why don't the characters just talk to each other?" "why can't we have healthy relationships?" I don't know, maybe because fiction is not supposed to be a model for reality and perfect communication makes for boring drama?

>>improperly using actions as dialogue tags ("'Looks like we're going hunting,' he grinned") >>why is everyone muttering and murmuring. speak up >>too many adverbs, especially "weakly" and "shakily." use stronger verbs. ("trembled" instead of "shook weakly") >>too many epithets ("the younger man" or "the brunette detective") >>too many filter words ("he felt," "she thought," "I remembered")

>>no, Tumblr, first-person POV is not the devil; you're just using way too many filter words (see above) and not enough sentence variation to make it flow well enough. First-person POV is an actually pretty good POV (not just for unreliable and self-aware narrators) if you know what you're doing and a lot of fun crafting an engaging character voice. Tumblr's hatred of first-person baffles me, and all I can think is you would only hate it if your only frame of reference was, like, My Immortal. Have you tried reading A Book? First-person POV is just another tool in your toolbox, and like all tools, it can be used properly or improperly. But it's not inherently a marker of bad writing. The disdain surrounding it strikes me as about as sensical as making fun of the concept of characters. Oh, your work has characters in it? Ew, I automatically click off a fic if it has characters in it. like what.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Someone Different, Someone New — Cassian X Reader.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Hi! This is an impromptu piece that is by no means my best writing — I just wanted to exercise my brain a bit. I haven’t added a tag list on this one because I need to go through and sort them out/update them, so sorry about that!

Warning: this piece does depict struggles of mental illness/trauma/panic, so if that’s something that could negatively effect you, please, please give this one a miss. This is based off my own experience of mental illness/trauma/panic, and the last thing I want is to trigger some unpleasant things because of my writing, so please take care. All the love. 💕

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“You doing okay?”

Rhysand’s arm pressed against yours as he took up the space beside you. Just as you were, he leaned back against the balcony railing, wine glass in hand. The cold temperature had driven the evening’s guests inside, but the bite of the chill…you needed it. Even as it started to hurt.

But you slapped a pleasant smile on your face that offered no glimpse of pain. “I’m okay.”

There was no need to put a front on for Rhys. He was the only one who could get it — it was he you’d been trapped Under the Mountain with, after all. He who had known who you’d been before, during and after. He’d seen everything, and he saw you now.

Saw the way your gaze stared intensely through the open glass doors and fastened on Cassian.

“Have you spoken to him?” Rhys asked.

Barely. You’d only been back three months, and the majority of it had been spent on your own. Fifty years trapped with people made company feely oily and itchy. And the person you’d become didn’t exactly make for good company, either. Not now that you were someone who was short-tempered, or brusque, or downright miserable. Being alone meant not having to subject anyone to that. It was a wonder Rhysand had convinced you to come tonight at all.

And there was another underlying reason for not wanting to face Cassian. You didn’t know each other anymore.

There might have been the potential for romance between you…a very long time ago. But fifty years apart had wiped that clean. You were no longer the person who had gone under that mountain. You were no longer the person he might have grown to love. He had known someone of vibrancy, of light and laughter.

You couldn’t bear to face him as you were, now. And he seemed to be doing just fine.

“No.” You answered Rhys, draining your glass.

Your High Lord studied you. “Why not?”

“I wouldn’t know what to say. And neither would he. It would be uncomfortable for him.”

“This is Cassian we’re talking about. He’ll just want to know that you’re alright.”

You most certainly were not alright.

You weren’t alright with enclosed spaces. You couldn’t even stand the feeling of your clothes touching your skin for too long. Loud noises had you flinching and laughter sounded too close to screams. Sometimes, you could swear your bathwater was blood, coating you, staining you, reminding you of what you’d had to do to survive. There was an ever-present tightness in your chest that always teetered on the edge of becoming something terrible.

You may have escaped the mountain, but you didn’t think you’d truly gulped down the fresh air.

And though you’d spent fifty years longing to get out from that prison, you honestly didn’t know how to be outside of it. Who to be outside of it.

You felt yourself jolt as you watched Cassian bellow a deep laugh. The female he was talking to grinned broadly, proud of whatever she’d said to garner such a reaction. Cass looked…content. Happy. He had moved on with his life, just as he’d deserved to.

You weren’t sure you could stomach watching it play out in front of you, though.

“I think he’s waiting for you to make the first move, Y/N.” Rhys’s hand landed on your arm, and your entire body went rigid. “He wants you to have the control.”

You swallowed. “I don’t think he thinks about me at all. Nor would I expect him to. He doesn’t know me anymore. I am not the person he once cared for.”

“I think you’re more of that same person than you realise.”

He was wrong. You shook your head. “No. I’m…someone different, Rhys. Someone new.”

“And you think Cassian would judge you for that? Really?”

Your gaze cut sharply to his violet one. “I think you have an over-exaggerated idea of how significant I am in his life.”

He stared back at you, pain marring his features. And this was precisely why you didn’t want to be around people anymore. You were just…rough. Jagged. Rude and cold.

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes shuttered. You pushed your glass into Rhys’s hand. “Sorry, Rhys, I just…need some time.”

He didn’t protest as you pulled away from him, wandering back inside and weaving your way through the bodies that had gathered for the party celebrating their High Lord’s return to Velaris. You didn’t even know where you planned to go. All you were aware of was that tightness in your chest worsening. Constricting. You rubbed at your chest, forcing yourself to swallow down air.

Your legs carried you aimlessly as you climbed stairs and burst through a door. A bathing chamber. You collapsed against the door, a clammy, prickling sensation spreading over your skin as you fought to just breathe. Your ears were ringing, pounding, a pressure seeming to bind your body and hold it taut. You weren’t sure you could survive this. Weren’t sure how to not be…this.

You weren’t aware of how long it lasted. Time felt both fast and slow around you as you bowed over the sink, fingers digging into the porcelain. The music and chatter of the party sounded so, so far away, you could be forgiven for thinking you’d left the building. But you knew you hadn’t. You were still here. You. Were. Still. Here.

You didn’t know when your trembling hands had turned the tap on and darted under the ice-cold water, but the sensation was soothing, grounding. You focused on watching it flow, dripping from your fingertips and splashing into the sink. You cupped your palms and gathered a small pool and splashed it against your face.

Slowly, your breaths began to even out. Slowly, your body began to steady. The sounds from downstairs became clearer, sounded closer, and the sensations that had gripped you subsided, making way for a wave of lethargy.

You just wanted to sleep.

You dried your face, your hands, straightening yourself out and hoping you were steady enough to make it out of there. Hopefully you could get away without running into anyone. The last thing you needed right now was mindless conversation.

You pulled the door open — and stopped short at the figure that waited just outside.

Cassian pushed off the wall. He unfolded his arms, studying you. And whatever he saw when he looked at you…you knew it couldn’t be good.

“Hey…” He said softly, daring a step closer. “Can we talk?”

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty one : te mirci't

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 9.0k

summary : reader does a lot of thinking, and a lot of expressing of said thoughts

warnings, etc. : language, angst, canon typical violence, smut smut smut smut, p in v smut, food play sort of kind of, din djarin nearly creams his pants over the concept of domesticity, sort of a dom/sub thing, switch!reader & switch!mando, din has a breeding kink and it's addressed, reader has like zero chill this chapter, dirty talk, men whimpering (hooray!), light bondage, use of handcuffs, unprotected sex

a/n : ik y'all are hype about breeding kink din but i'm gonna real quick say that i will not throw in like a surprise pregnancy in this fic, cause it hasn't been tagged with that thus far and sometimes it irks me when i'm knee deep in a fic and suddenly the reader is pregnant without warning and it wasn’t tagged,, so yeah. it would be different if i advertised this as a pregnancy fic from the get go but i didn't so i'm not gonna spring that on people. (reader could still potentially end up pregnant at the END of the fic (possibly maybe who knows) but there will not be any surprise pregnancy, sorry!) that's it lmao, just wanted to throw that out there.

“It means I love you.” 

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. 

How many times has he said it without you even knowing? How long has he loved you? Maker, your mind is racing as you try to recall when the first time he said it would have been.

You’ve already said it to him. 

Albeit you didn’t realize what you were saying but you’d said those words to him. And hearing you say them had worked him up so much that he’d fucked you like it was his last night alive. 

He doesn’t seem to have much to say now that he’s dropped that bomb on you. You just stare at each other in this blistering silence for an eternity. Until the smell of burning has you shooting out of bed, scrambling towards the oven as you grab the lone oven mit off the counter, removing the smoking baking trays quickly, propping open the single window above the sink and tossing the ruined cakes under the faucet.

“Kriff.” You lean up against the counter, staring at where he’s currently getting up from the bed to join you. Are you a terrible person if you just ignore it? Because currently the last thing you want to do is think about it. “I’m gonna start a new batch, I lost track of time with this one.” You whisper towards him, never actually meeting that thin black line of his helmet. 

“You don’t have to say it back.” He whispers back to you, taking a seat at the table. 

You know you don’t have to. 

Honestly the pressure of having to say it is the least of your worries. The most troubling part of this situation is the question that now plagues you which is, do you love him? 

You rinse out the last batch of batter from the bowl before starting a new one.

You’ve always been so hesitant with him. Even from the start. You wouldn’t let yourself think about him, then you wouldn’t let yourself feel for him, care for him, want him. At one point you wouldn’t even let yourself like him. 

So to think about if you love him? 

The only thing you’ve ever let yourself do is hate him. And you never even really did that. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. 

Shit. You’ve been quiet for too long.

“I’m fine, sorry, just… upset about the cakes.” You both know it’s a lie. But neither of you says a thing. He just nods. You work in silence, willing your mind to think of anything else as you scrape the burnt cake tin off into the sink before refilling it with the new batch of batter. As you slide the tin into the oven you turn, unable to face him you turn your gaze elsewhere, to the single shelf in his home. 

A few days ago when you were here it was covered in assorted pieces of metal and scrap. Now it’s mostly bare. In a desperate attempt to change the subject you walk over, picking up one of the few remaining scraps. 

“What happened to all your stuff? You hold a small metal ball between your fingers as he walks up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as he leans down. You feel the chill of beskar against your skin. 

“I used it all.” He’s still being far too vague about all this and you frown, holding the ball up in front of his face. 

“You forgot this piece.” He takes it from you as you say it, you don’t remember him taking his gloves off but they are, his bare hands holding it like it’s a precious gemstone. 

“This isn’t a part of my secret project,” He murmurs, rolling the ball between his fingers. “this belonged to the kid.” 

You have to remind yourself not to pry, that you promised yourself you’d let him talk about it on his own. His free hand snakes around your waist as he stares longingly at the metal piece, you say nothing, giving him the option to go on if he wants. After a brief moment of pause, he continues. 

“I tried to buy him a proper toy. Just once. He used to play with this, I thought maybe he was just bored because we spent so much time on the Crest. On one of my jobs I stopped and got him this little stuffed frog toy.”

You think of the frog he picked up from the lake all those moons ago. A pang of sorrow in your chest.

Every time he talks about the kid it seems like he’s talking more to himself than to you, this time is no different. He adjusts himself, standing up straighter so his chin rests atop your head now. He sways you gently to a song that only he hears.

“He tried to eat the damn thing, I tried to explain that it wasn’t for eating but he didn’t seem to care. Once he realized I wasn’t gonna let him eat it he lost interest, threw it into the fresher and went off to find this again.” He sets the ball back onto the shelf and just holds you for a moment. Just when you’re about to reach down to touch the hand he’s resting on your stomach he speaks again, in a whisper, like he isn’t sure he wants you to hear what he’s saying. “I used to worry that he was bored. Spending so much time on the ship with just me, without any of the things a child usually grows up with.” His grip on your waist tightens. “I thought for the longest time that he’d be happier somewhere else. Now I wonder if maybe he was content with what we had.” 

The more you let him talk out his feelings the more you realize that deep down Din is one thing above all. 

Someone who doesn’t think he is deserving of love. 

You turn around in his grip so you’re facing him and don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, holding him tight. You might not be ready to tell him you love him but that doesn’t mean you can’t show him that he is cared for. He doesn’t move for a moment but eventually holds you back. 

He makes no effort to pull away so you don’t either. Staying like that until you have to get the cakes out of the oven before you burn another batch. He follows you in silence as you set the new batch on the table, he reaches for one and you smack his hand away. 

“You’re gonna burn your hand, stop that. And I still need to frost them.” 

You turn back to the book for the recipe, happy that the two of you seem to be in mutual agreement to not talk about the current situation. As you start pouring the sugar to make the icing you hear a hiss of air, on instinct you turn to face the noise, not realizing until it’s too late that you shouldn’t. 

You should feel regret.

But Maker, how could you. 

Your eyes fixed on the way he parts his plush lips to take the chunk of pastry he tore off into his mouth, his finger lingering on his bottom lip and that tongue. Darting out to lick his fingers clean. The way the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. You know you shouldn’t look, he’s got the helmet pulled up just enough that you can see the tip of his nose which means he doesn’t even know you’re looking, there’s metal between his eyes and you. You can’t, this is so bad, shit. You just keep finding reasons to not look away, especially now that he’s smiling. You always thought his smile would be condescending, maybe a triumphant smirk, but it’s so… dorky. He’s got such a dopey grin.

Stars, he’s got a dimple. 

Are you still breathing?   

And you can finally see the facial hair you’ve only ever felt brush up against you. Surprisingly well kept, with a few small bare patches. You want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss each one of them but you’re quickly reminded of how bad this entire situation is as you hastily turn back around. Stirring the bowl in front of you, acting as if nothing happened. Only a few seconds after you’re facing the counter again do you hear the airlock reseal. 

You hear a sharp inhale and a part of you worries he knows you accidentally looked but he hisses again before cursing.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” You can hear him breathing heavily through his mouth into the modulator.

Thank the gods.

“I warned you.” You chastise him, turning around and pouring a generous amount of the cinnamon sugar icing onto each of the cakes while they’re still hot so it absorbs into them. “These need to sit overnight in the conservator.” 

“Okay, should I put them in now or when I get back tonight?” 

You know what he’s really asking. 

He wants to know if he’ll be staying with you or coming home alone.

The answer is obvious to you as you nudge the conservator open with your foot, sliding the tins onto one of the shelves. 

“I’ll do this now since you won’t be around to. Should we go?” You slip your shoes back on, watching as a bit of tension leaves his shoulders. 

“Sure.”

★

It’s a quiet walk back but it isn’t really uncomfortable. You just want to get him back to your room, where he’ll hopefully help you forget about this whole mess. 

You waste no time when you get to your chambers. You drag him to the closet, struggling to remove his armor, carefully setting each piece on the floor while he simultaneously lifts your shirt up over your head. Once you have every piece of beskar removed, you find yourself tumbling to the floor as he practically tackles you into the blankets. Both of you fumble for the lamp until finally you manage to flip the switch and it’s like he can’t get the helmet off fast enough because in what feels like a single second, you’re shrouded in darkness, you hear the the sound of air, a thud onto the ground, and his lips are on yours. 

You’re waiting for something more to happen, he’d been so urgent just a moment ago but now that you’re here he’s just kissing you.  

Of course you aren’t complaining. Every kiss with him feels like a blessing from the Maker themself. You’re just a little surprised. 

You had sort of hoped he had plans to ravage you solely for the purpose of distracting you from the question, still searing your every thought, demanding your attention. But instead he kisses you one last time before laying atop your chest, arms wrapped around you. You think about teasing him but there’s something cathartic about this. His willingness to just be with you without searching for more. So you let him.

And when he inevitably falls asleep, his monstrous snores filling the small space, you’re left alone with your thoughts. 

Well, thought. 

Do you love him? 

Do you want to love him? 

Loving him means too much. 

You tangle your fingers in his curls, in an attempt to soothe yourself. 

Loving him is complicated. It means you’ll have to finally answer the rest of the questions you don’t want to so much as think about.

Kids? Marriage? Kodo? Any sort of future.

Loving him puts him at risk. 

He’s always been at risk. His choice to love you meant putting his life on the line. Everyday he wanted to be yours was a day that he could be dragged off by one of your husbands unlimited guard members and killed. 

Loving him means understanding that you’re on a clock. A clock to get off of Naboo as quickly as possible, to somewhere far away to hunker down. To hide from the inevitable onslaught of search parties that would come after a missing royal. 

They’d send bounty hunters.

Kodo doesn’t even like you, but if you ran off with the man he hired to protect you? He would stop at nothing to get you back. The thought of what he would do to Din when he inevitably found the two of you makes your blood run cold. 

But you need to push those thoughts away. Yes, they are important but they shouldn’t impact your feelings. Because at the end of the day you either love him or you don’t. 

And you can’t even seem to figure that out. 

You’ve never been in love before, you don’t really have a frame of reference. 

You’ve certainly never felt for anyone the way you feel for him. 

Is that love? 

If you weren’t already married would you have said it back?

You aren’t even really a wife at this point. 

You’re a prisoner. 

You aren’t sure when he woke up but he brings you back to reality with a kiss to your chest. 

“You should be asleep, princess.” His voice is gravely, still thick with exhaustion. You run your hands along his vast shoulders in an attempt to soothe him back to sleep. 

“So should you.” You whisper into the darkness, he hums softly in response. 

It goes quiet again. His arms tighten around you and you know he remains awake, every so often he’ll place a chaste kiss to your breast. 

Would it be cruel to bring it up again?

At this point he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest that you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment and you can’t keep fighting these battles alone. 

If you love each other, talking about these things is something you would do. 

It might be nice. To not be alone with these thoughts for once. 

“Din?” 

He hums again in response. You feel the scratch of his stubble against your chest as his head turns in your direction. 

You should let him sleep. Shut up and not bother him with this. 

“What does love mean to you?”

It’s such a corny question but you really are curious.

“What did you say?” For a moment you’re worried you’ve upset him but his tone makes you think he genuinely didn’t hear you. 

“What’s it like, to love someone?” 

He chuckles softly and a wave of relief washes over you. 

“That’s an awfully complicated question, cyare.”

“Okay, then, how did you know?” You purposefully avoid saying the words, “that you loved me.” 

“It sort of snuck up on me. It started my first week with you, when being with you started feeling less like a job and more like an honor.” 

Does he have to be so good with words? Even in this state, barely awake, he manages to be a goddamn poet. 

“Eventually it got to a point where I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” He mumbles his words into your skin. 

“When was that?”

“When you gave me a birthday.” 

Right before he had ended things. 

You don’t have to ask to know now that that's why he did it. 

“And that was when you were sure?”

“Yes. That was when I knew I loved you.” 

If he’s upset about you not saying it back he doesn’t make it known, he says it so casually.

“What does it feel like?” You run your fingers along the scar on the back of his head. 

“It feels like being afraid. There is a certain vein of fear that I had never known prior to meeting the kid, when I los-“ He hesitates. “When he left, I didn’t think I’d ever feel that fear again.” He sighs. “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.” 

You sort of understand that feeling.

You felt it when you thought Kodo knew. And you felt it when you imagined Kodo’s reaction to your hypothetical children with Din. 

You felt it just moments ago. When you asked yourself if you loved him. 

“It’s like all the air leaves the room, replaced with terror. That terror eats away at everything until there’s nothing left.”

All you can think of is the night you found him in the hallway, and you’re certain you’ve never felt that level of fear.

“It’s not all fear though. I assume it’s different for everyone but the fear is only a part of it. For me it mostly feels like devotion and temptation. I know what it is to be devoted, for decades I followed my creed without question, and when I finally did abandon it, it was a matter of life and death, fueled by that fear.”

He sounds half asleep as he says it, like he’s telling himself a bedtime story, and you don’t dare interrupt. 

“That’s how I feel about you, except in your case, nothing could make me question my devotion to you, not even a matter of life and death. And as far as temptation goes…” He laughs quietly to himself. “I was unfamiliar with that feeling before you.”

“Temptation?” You whisper to him.

“When will you understand what you are to me, sarad’ika?” He sits up a little, you can’t see him but you feel his nose bump against your jaw as he rests his face in the crook of your neck.

“I know how you feel about me, you tell me quite often.” You’re only half-joking.

“Not how I feel about you, what you are to me. You are so much more than the one I never meant to love, I swear you were created just to tempt me.” You let your hand rest on the nape of his neck as he absentmindedly brushes his lips up against your throat. “If you asked me to remove my helmet, I would.” He murmurs against your throat. 

That’s a rather serious claim.

“You could have asked me from the moment I met you. It took time for me to realize I loved you but I have always, been sworn to you.” His fingers trail up and down your torso. “From the moment I first saw you, when you tried to remove my helmet, I promised myself that if you ever tried again, that I wouldn’t stop you.

Maker. 

How the fuck do you respond to that?

“We can talk more in the morning. Get some sleep.” He kisses your temple and lays back down against your chest.

He can be annoyingly eloquent when he wants too. You can’t help but wish you were as capable of putting your feelings into words the way he does. Seriously, how are you supposed to top, “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.” 

Maybe tomorrow you could try and show him how much he means to you. Since you can’t seem to find the right thing to say, and even if you could he’s already asleep again, snoring at an ungodly volume like he didn’t just profess his profound love to you.

But talking to him helped, from how he describes it, you might just love him too.

★

This morning is much more coordinated than your last. 

Din wakes you up before the girls arrive. You have plenty of time to pick out one of the simpler pink gowns in your collection, along with a matching pair of slippers. You leave him there with plenty of time to spare. 

The girls don’t question it this time either. Neither of them tries to go into the closet and they waste no time dressing you. Lysa finds you a nice pink nightie from the dresser but you honestly aren’t all that thrilled about it this time around.

It’s getting harder and harder to care about this. 

Being dressed up like a doll every day.

Din certainly doesn’t care about what you look like so why even bother at this point? You’re antsy to get back to him and you’re about to hastily thank and dismiss the girls as they finish but Elaine speaks first. 

“Princess, would you join me for tea this morning?” 

You have no logical reason to refuse and you do enjoy time spent with Elaine.

You just want to be with Din.

But you can’t tell her that. 

“Certainly, shall I meet you in the gardens again?” 

“I will see you there, my lady.” Both girls give you small bows before leaving. Only a few seconds after they’re gone the closet door opens and there stands your Mandalorian. He makes his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“Shall I escort you to the gardens, my lady?” He leans down a bit so your eyes are level with the line of his visor.

“Lead the way.”

It’s a short walk and you’re once again surprised by how quickly Elaine has set things up, a table and chairs wait for you in the gazebo.

“Do you think you could find something to do for a few minutes on your own?” You say quietly enough that you know only he can hear it as you approach. 

He doesn’t respond but as you step into the gazebo he doesn’t follow you in, once you’re seated he walks off into the garden. 

“Seems like things are better between the two of you?” She pours you a cup, making it the way you like it before handing you the saucer. 

“Much better.” You smile as you take a sip. 

“May I speak freely ma’am?” She sets her cup down and crosses her arms, staring at you. Her tone has gotten so serious so suddenly you’re a bit stunned. 

“Of course.” 

“Lysa and I stopped coming to help you undress in the evenings many moons ago, we stopped waiting for you to summon us.” 

What a strange thing to say. 

“Okay?” Is all you can manage, still unsure as to what she could possibly mean by that statement. 

“Well, my lady, we just assumed you didn’t need the help anymore…” She stares at you expectantly but you’re still giving her a confused look. “You know…” Her eyebrows are raised but you just shake your head slowly, giving her a blank stare. “With getting undressed.”

Oh.

Oh.

Not much you can really say about that, she’s right, and you hadn’t even noticed because someone else was undressing you. Still, she can’t expect you to outright admit that. 

“I don’t need you to say a word, my lady, I just needed to talk to you, to warn you.” Something about her tone makes you shiver, even out here in the sun. 

“About?” 

“You’ve been reckless, princess.” You set your cup down. 

“Spit it out Elaine, you’re making me nervous.” You laugh anxiously but her expression remains stern.

“Kodo won’t take your absence from dinner lightly. And you’ve been too blatant about your friendship with the Mandalorian. You should act with more caution.” 

Well, you had wanted her to be blunt, you can’t be too shocked about that. 

“He is not a man who takes kindly to disrespect. He will retaliate if you aren’t careful, that’s all.” You nod as she takes a sip of her tea.

That’s all she says on the subject, quickly moving on to another topic.

Her warning was genuine and you’re thankful for it but you push it from your mind. You will right this wrong and attend dinner with Kodo this week.

★

Tea is short after that.

You aren’t in the mood for small talk anymore, you just want to spend the rest of the day with Din.

You whisper a genuine thanks to her before she departs, and you rush over to where he stands in the flowers.

“Cabin?” He asks. Thankfully he doesn’t risk holding your hand in broad daylight but he lets his knuckles brush against yours. 

“Cabin.” You follow him towards the pond and once you’re close enough he scoops you up into his arms to keep you out of the water. “Din! What if someone sees?” You whisper yell at him, eyes scanning the vacant gardens. 

“This isn’t any less damning than you walking in on your own. Besides, no one’s around, promise.” He pushes open the door before setting you down, locking up behind the two of you. “I’ve lived here for long enough to know that nobody comes out this far except us. Now, what do you want for the rest of the day?” He kicks off his boots and you set your slippers next to them.

It’s past noon at this point, you have nothing planned. 

“Do you want to just stay here? I think today I just want to stay here.” You walk over to the bed, lifting your skirt and taking a seat. 

“Works for me, I’m going to get some chores done if you don’t mind.” He removes his gloves, tossing them on the table before kneeling beside the dresser. 

“I don’t mind at all.” You scoot back a bit to rest against the wall, you’re actually quite curious to see what he’ll do, and you need time to think of how you’re going to show him how much he means to you. 

You watch as he takes out different weapons and tech that you don’t recognize. He tosses his gloves to the side and starts methodically cleaning every item. 

You’re sort of hypnotized by his attention to detail, it lets you think.

What does he like? 

Green, you, the kid, classic ships. 

None of those things can really show him how much he means to you though. 

He’s setting different things aside as he finishes any maintenance required, every so often he looks up at you before returning to his work. You feel a little useless just sitting here so you get up to take the cakes out of the conservator. 

Suddenly you have his attention. 

You don’t dare say a word, letting him just observe in peace. He drops whatever he’s working on, you don’t look but you can feel his visor trained on you. 

You take the tins out, setting them on the table before finding a dull knife. Each cake is small enough that you can fit your hands around each tin if you hold your fingers in the shape of a circle. You carve each cake out of its tin and he watches you intently the entire time, you can see him in your peripherals. 

So he likes… watching you do a shitty job at taking cakes out of tins?

It’s crass but you go through the list of things that have worked him up before. Things you’ve said to get him to give you what you want during sex. 

Two instances come to mind. 

The time you unknowingly said I love you.

And then last night, when you told him he could finish inside you.

And now? Your head tilts up just in time to watch him adjust himself in his trousers before sheepishly tuning back to his work when you catch him watching you. It takes a second but eventually things start to click.

He likes watching you look at home in his cabin. He likes the intimate feeling of a simple life. Watching you bake, saying I love you, having kids. 

Things a normal couple might do. 

He tosses something up onto the bed, you stare at it for a moment as he starts putting other things back into the dresser.

Handcuffs. 

Thick, padded, and metal. 

You know he intends on using them on you but you act fast, hurrying over to him, taking his hand. 

“What are you doing mesh’la?” He chuckles as you sit him down on the bed.

This is gonna be a shot in the dark, but if you’re confident enough, (and right) it’ll be worth it.

“Just, let me take care of you.” 

“You already take care of me.” He insists, starting to get up but you firmly plant your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. Your plan is rapidly forming in your mind.

“I mean it, now stay put.” He sighs loudly but nods, tilting his head to the side in confusion. No sense in being coy, might as well be clear with your intentions to see if he’s actually into it. “Don’t be a baby, I know you get off on this kind of thing.” The moment you say it he scoffs but you’re already across the room, taking one of the little cakes and putting it onto a plate. 

“Excuse me?” “His voice is already terribly defensive but you just laugh it off. 

“You’re not the only one who can make observations. You think I didn’t notice the way your tone switched when I offered to bake for you?” He starts to argue but you cut him off. “And I’m definitely not going to ignore how quickly you came when I told you you could finish inside of me.” That surprisingly shuts him up. This might actually be the only time you’ve caught him so off guard that he doesn’t have a response. 

You bring the plate over to the bed, setting it on his nightstand.

“You like domesticity.” You lean in to whisper to him. “You want me to take care of you, don’t you Mr. Tough Mandalorian?” You can’t gauge his reaction because of the helmet but you can gauge the tent in his pants perfectly fine. 

“Djarin.” He certainly doesn’t sound stern now. 

“Djarin?”

“Din Djarin.” You hadn’t even realized until just now that you didn’t know his last name. 

You straddle one of his thighs, spreading his legs with your knees.

“Well then, let me take care of you, Din Djarin.” You like the way his name feels in your mouth and based on the way his cock twitches against your leg you’d reckon he does too. 

He’s always been so open with you and you’ve always kept him at a distance. 

Right here right now, if you weren’t dealing with the worst possible circumstances (your husband), you know that you’d tell him you love him, that you ache for him, that you know fear because of him. You know you love him. And you’re pretty sure he knows it too.

You just aren’t ready to say it. 

So you’ll have to show it. (And maybe say a few things that you are ready to say.) 

You love each other, at the end of the day you can’t keep censoring yourself when you think about him, he doesn’t deserve that. 

You want to show him what he deserves. 

You reach behind him and grab the cuffs. As you do his hands wrap around you to tug at your corset strings, an act that he’s getting rather good at. 

“You gonna put those on for me, mesh’la?” He drawls. Once he’s loosened your corset enough so that you’ll be able slip out of it you lean back again.

“No.” You grin at him and he immediately shakes his head. 

“Absolutely not.” He says the moment you start smiling.

“You’re always in charge, just let me be in charge, I’m doing this for you.” You grab one of his wrists but he easily pulls it away. 

“You were in charge last time.”

True, but irrelevant.

“Do you love me?” You stick your bottom lip out a little. 

“You’re terrible.” 

“I know.” But it works, because when you grab his wrist again he doesn’t pull away. 

“You know I can get out of these right? Very easily.” He says, watching you close the first cuff around his wrist, removing the belt around his torso and the one around his waist. 

“I know that too, but you love me, so you’re going to leave them on until I take them off.

“This feels less like you’re taking care of me and more like I’m your prisoner.” He mumbles. 

“Oh hush, you’d be happy either way.” Once again he seems at a loss for words as you cuff his other wrist, he sets his hands in his lap. You smooth out the fabric of his cowl before carefully removing it, folding it and walking it over to the table and setting it down. “I’ll make you a deal.” You say, turning back to face him. “If you don’t like it then I will stop and we can do this your way. But if you don’t then I will assume I was right, and you do want me to take care of you.” You straddle his thigh again and play with one of the releases on his chest plate.

“You’re being purposefully vague. What does taking care of me entail?” The impatience on his voice trails off as you start releasing his chestplate, finding the little locks, undoing them one by one. 

“Well… I just think that you like certain things, and I think you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“What things?” 

You click the last release and remove his chest plate, walking over to the dresser to set it down carefully before returning.

“You like that I baked for you.” You remove his gauntlets, setting them on his nightstand.

“Who wouldn’t like that?” You swear you almost hear him stutter. 

“Oh but I think you really like it. Because you know I did it just for you.” You remove his pauldrons and kneel between his legs to remove the pieces of armor on his thighs. “You like when I hold you, you like seeing me here, in your home, in your bed.” You slide his remaining armor down his legs, setting them aside before standing again and spreading his thighs with your knees to slot yourself between them, your hands grip the edges of his helmet. 

“Can I?” You whisper. 

After a moment's hesitation he nods. 

Your fingers snap the airlocks and you gently lift. 

Before closing your eyes you allow yourself one peek. 

You’re graced with a bashful smile, and you know that it’s okay, so you squeeze your eyes shut and completely remove the helmet, setting it on the bed beside him. Almost as if on instinct he leans forward and you feel his lips on yours as you gently push him back. 

“Let me do it, Din.” You laugh softly. “You don’t have to do everything.” You lean forward this time, hands on either side of his face, running your tongue over that bottom lip you wish you could see. “I’m going to take my dress off.” You mumble into his mouth before pulling back, you turn around and quickly slide your gown down your body, you grab the plate on his bedside table before closing your eyes and turning back around. His restrained hands play with the front of your nightie. 

“What are you-” His unfiltered voice is like warm honey, deep and raw, but you silence it by putting two fingers from your freehand to where you assume his mouth is. He starts to speak again so you gingerly slide your thumb between his lips and you hear any more questions he might have flicker out. 

“Can you go more than five minutes without asking me a question?” The moment you say it his lips purse like he’s going to ask again, you place your thumb over his tongue. Once you’re certain he isn’t going to interrupt your actions again you remove your hand from his face and tear a chunk of the cake off of the plate. “Open.” You laugh softly as you bring your hand towards his mouth, he immediately starts to protest again but you take the opportunity to stuff the pastry into his mouth, you get lucky and actually manage to get it in on the first try. 

If you’re being honest, you aren’t completely sure if this is going to work. You’re still acting on a hunch. A very presumptuous hunch, that deep down he wants nothing more than a quiet, soft life. 

A home. 

Unless of course you’re wrong. In that case you’re going to be rather embarrassed. Which is starting to be a worry as you realize he isn’t moving, two of your fingers just barely past his lips, he still hasn’t moved and you fell you nerves starting to get the best of you, just as you’re about to withdrawal and apologize for the entire silly affair, his lips close around your fingers. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, accidentally taking a step back in surprise.    

His fingers immediately grasp at what fabric they can on your undergarments, trying to pull you closer again. You’re about to say something smug, along the lines of “I told you so.” But you’re stopped dead in your tracks.

Because Maker, he whimpers. 

You let him tug you back between his legs. The cold metal of the cuffs brushes against your thighs. 

You reach down and tear off another chunk of the cake, his bound hands guide you back to his mouth, which you're shocked to find is still open as you gently feed him. This time you don't flinch back, his lips close around your fingers and his tongue licks them clean.

This is the temptation he spoke of. 

You respect his creed. You’ve sort of taken your own creed, a vow to yourself not to look. But right now it takes all of your restraint to not look. Nothing could possibly make you happier than knowing what he must look like right now, lips wrapped around your fingers, trying to pull you closer. 

But just like him, you resist those temptations, finally pulling your hand away. 

“I told you I’d take care of you.” You whisper, a slight teasing edge to your voice.

“You’re a strange woman, sarad’ika.” He whispers back.

“So you don’t like this?” You tear off a piece for yourself, popping it into your mouth, feeling the icing coat your tongue. You bask in his silence before picking up the remaining pastry, gently feeding him, tossing the plate blindly onto the bed.

The only answer you need to your question is the way his tongue drags across your palm when he’s finished, you waste no time after that to push him down into the mattress. Letting your lips find his.

His mouth tastes just like it did the first time you kissed.

Vanilla. 

His arms go over your head, trapping you in his embrace. 

“Tell me I was right.” You pull back from him, grinning.

“I wouldn’t exactly go so far as to say that you were right.” His mouth latches to your chin, peppering a trail of kisses back up to your lips but you pull further back, as far as his arms will let you, eyes still shut.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that right? Because about thirty seconds ago you were quite literally eating out of the palm of my hand.” He continues trying to kiss you to silence you but you keep turning your head to the side, he settles on your jaw eventually. 

“That doesn’t prove anything, I’ve barely eaten anything today, maybe I was just hungry.” He mumbles against your skin. 

“Mhmm, sure. Are you sure you don’t like playing house? I think you like imagining me as Mrs. Djarin.”

Whoops. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Don’t say that.” His voice isn’t playful anymore as he sits up, keeping you in his lap. 

“Kriff, I’m sorry Din, that was too fa-” You hear a metal thud behind you on the floor and his hands are no longer cuffed, they hold your waist now. 

“If you don’t mean it, don't joke about that.” His breath is hot on your face and his grip on you tightens. 

If you don’t mean it. 

So you were right. 

Your mind screams at you to be rational. You have a husband, there are a million reasons to apologize and to move on from this. 

Stop using the husband that was forced upon you as an excuse.

You can’t keep holding back when it comes to Din. It isn’t fair to him. Not when he gives you everything. 

“If I do mean it, can I joke about it?” Your voice is the quietest it’s been all day. 

He takes your hands and brings them up to his face, so you can feel him nod. 

“I’ll keep joking about it if you tell me I’m right. I’ll joke all night long.” You laugh a little as he brings one of your hands to his mouth so he can kiss your wrist. 

“You’re right.”

You can’t help yourself.

“About?” 

“I like this.” He drags his lips down your arm before dropping it. “I like when you take care of me.” 

“Turn the lights off.” He doesn’t hesitate once you say it, the curtains are all already closed 

Once the lights are off he flips you onto your back, you hear everything on the bed clatter to the floor as he tosses it aside.

His bed is lower than yours so his hands grab you by your hips, lifting your bottom half into the air a little, making you squeak in surprise. 

“Tell me another joke.” He says under his breath as he spreads your legs so he can grind his still clothed erection against you. 

“I thought you were going to let me take care of you?” You scoff at him, hearing his zipper.

“I am,” You gasp as he drops you back down onto the mattress, climbing on top of you. “I’m letting you tell me jokes.” You can practically hear his grin as he guides the blunt head of his cock into your folds. Lazily rubbing it against your clit and leaning down to whisper to you. “You started this with all your talk, is that all it was? Talk? I thought you said you meant it?”  

You’re trying to remember how he got the upperhand so quickly but it’s hard to concentrate when he keeps nudging himself against your most sensitive spot.

Everything always happens so fast with him, just once you’d like to turn things around on him and have it work.

“I-I meant it.” Is all you really manage to get out, he brings his cock down a bit to tease your entrance, never actually pushing in. His voice has that condescending tone to it that tells you he’s willing to play this game for a while and you hadn’t really factored in just how aroused you’d get during your display a few minutes ago. You’re soaked and there’s a good chance he’s going to draw this out in retaliation. He swipes his tip back up to your clit, the both of you hiss in unison. 

You still have one ace up your sleeve as you recall your conversation from last night. 

“So you liked one of my offers?” 

“I might have been interested in one of them”

One thing you know he wants. 

“Come on, sarad’ika. Where are your jokes?” He chuckles against your skin as he kisses your shoulder. 

“I was just trying to think of a baking joke. Can you give me a second?” You gasp out as his free hand reaches underneath you to squeeze your ass before coming up to rest on your hip. 

“I know you can do better than a baking joke.” You can feel him grin against you now, his teeth lightly graze your shoulder.

“It’s a shame, you would have liked it.” He goes back to teasing your entrance, pressing himself into you just enough to make you squirm but not enough to actually be inside you. You try to shift your hips downwards but his hand keeps you pinned in place. 

“I liked your jokes about Mrs. Djarin.” 

It’s now or never.

“Well you liked my cooking as well, so I thought I’d make a joke about a bun in the oven, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Filling me u-”

His hips buck forward and his grip on you tightens to the point of a sharp pain. To seemingly both of your surprises, in an instant he’s buried nearly to the hilt in your heat. 

“Maker, Din!” You’re gonna have a brand new set of bruises tomorrow. 

“Sorry! I, fuck- sorry.” He’s grunting in your ear, not bothering with your shoulder anymore, burying his face into the pillow next to your head. 

“Dank farrik, Din…” You’re reeling from the sudden motion, your head tilted back into the mattress. You need to catch your breath but the muffled groans coming from him distract you. The sting from the sudden stretch you're experiencing is quickly fading and you bring your hands up to his head, one resting in his hair and the other at the nape of his neck. 

He wanted to make this a game so you’re going to play, and you’re going to win.

You’re still panting a little as you turn your head to the side so you can whisper into his ear. 

“Stars Din, it’s that easy to get you worked up, huh?” His breathing is starting to level out, his grip on you lightens up. “I thought I was easy to rile up but look at you, all this just at the thought of a bun in the oven.” 

He isn’t making noise anymore, he’s still against you, listening intently as you run a soothing hand down his spine and back up again. 

“I can’t imagine what you’re going to be like when you actually get me pregnant.” 

You’re surprised by your own words, like your brain is on auto-pilot and you can’t filter yourself but he fucking whines so you don’t care in the slightest. High pitched and needy, muffled by the pillow. His hips start slowly rocking into you and you bite back your moan, wanting to maintain your advantage. 

You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head out of the pillow, savoring the whimper that comes from his as you do.

“Oh come on, you can’t even  handle the thought of it?” You breathe out the words and his head falls downwards as you release him, he bites your shoulder. “What does it for you?” He unclenches his jaw, starting to bury his face back into the pillow but you pull him back up again.

“Is it just the idea of finishing in me?” 

He doesn’t answer, to be fair you’re barely holding it together either at this point.

“Or do you just want everyone to know I’m yours? Want everyone to see that you knocked me up?”  

You get your answer with that because he’s trying to bury his face back into the pillow. A low wail leaves his lips as he frantically ruts into you. How quickly everything’s escalated has you hurtling towards your climax and you can tell by the desperate whine that leaves his lips as he presses them into your collar bone that he won’t be far behind. 

“I know you can do better than that, Din.” You mock his tone from earlier but he’s unfazed, pounding into you until finally you can’t tease him anymore because he’s reduced you to gasps and moans.

It doesn’t take long after that. 

One after the other.

You first, when his hand travels downwards, it takes only a few precise circles rubbed into your clit and your grip tightens in his hair, your walls flutter around him.

Just like that he’s going over the edge with you.

He pulls out, finishing on your stomach. 

You shouldn’t feel upset but there's the tiniest bit of disappointment as you feel his cum against your skin. 

He collapses onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you.” He presses a kiss into your hair. 

“I know.” 

★

You sit in the quiet dark for a long while, until finally, you have to ask.

“Do you actually want kids someday?” Your voice breaks the silence of the pitch-black room. “Little Djarin’s running around?” 

He rolls over so he’s hovering above you now.

“Are you trying to start round two?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours, your nose bumps against his. “I’ll need a few more minutes before I can go again, sarad, but I can keep you occupied until then.” He kisses you quickly, already starting to move his mouth south but you stop him. 

It’s so effortless right now. To be happy with him, in the darkness, pushing away thoughts of royal responsibilities. Letting yourself be with just Din, even if it’s brief. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?” You ask.

“Yes. Someday.” He kisses your sternum, laying down on your chest.

“With me?” 

“No, with Elaine.” You smack the back of his head when he says it, he laughs against your skin. “Yes, with you.” 

You let him lay on top of you as you nod to yourself. 

“Is it weird that everytime we have sex it turns into a competition?” He starts to laugh once more as you say it.

“It’s weird that you keep losing.” 

You smack him again.

★

Your peaceful break from reality is brief, as always, as you sit up. 

“We have to go. I can’t be out all night.” The last thing you want to do is return to your room right now, you want to stay here, the cabin feels more like home than any room in the castle ever has. 

He seems as unhappy with this as you are. The two of you dress in silence once he flicks the lamp back on, you turn around until you hear him reattach his helmet. 

You hold his hand on the walk back. You don’t have much to say right now, you’re certain at this point that you’ve made it clear that you love him.

That you just aren’t ready to say it. 

And he doesn’t seem to mind. 

You’re ready to just sleep. Your blanket nest seems more and more inviting the closer you get to the castle. 

The two of you sneak in through the back entrance and as always the castle is quiet at night. You keep your hand in his as you make your way up the steps. 

It isn’t until you get to the hallway where your chambers are located that you hear it. 

A persistent banging sound and someone yelling incomprehensibly. 

Din immediately drops your hand. 

Neither of you speaks as you walk but he shifts himself so he’s walking ahead of you, as you get closer you recognize the distinct, nasally voice. 

In the dim light of the hall you see Kodo, banging on your bedroom door.

“Wife, come now, you can’t ignore me, I’m your husband.” He hisses, you can smell the alcohol on him from here.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Kodo, are you okay?” You plaster on a faux look of concern as you approach, Din tries to put his hand up to stop you but you ignore it. 

He turns to stare at you, his clothes are askew and he isn’t even wearing his crown. 

“Wife! Where have you been?” He slurs, leaning in for a kiss that you sidestep, he doesn’t seem bothered by your rejection. 

“I went on a walk.” You answer quickly and he takes hold of your waist, you try not to look too repulsed.

“You skipped dinner yesterday, dear wife.” He teeters a bit, leaning towards you as you again try to avoid his kiss but this time he holds you firmly in place, it’s sloppy and you have to wipe a bit of spit from your face after.  

“I did, I wasn’t feeling well.” Your voice is getting smaller and smaller as you feel fear bubbling in your chest.

“Where are your guards?” There’s no respect in Din’s voice, no “your highness” or “your grace.” No one speaks to Kodo that way, not even you, but he’s too drunk to even notice. 

“I dismissed them, as is customary when one is visiting his bride’s chambers.” Kodo lurches forward, his hands sloppily grope the fabric of your skirt and you make an audible groan of discomfort. 

“We should get you back to your own chambers, come now dear husband.” You try to sound patient, you know he’s capable of violence and you don’t want to push him in this state.

“Why would we do that, wife? Come now, tonight I shall join you in bed. I missed you last night.” He hisses the words and you know he didn’t miss you in the slightest, this is a punishment.

This is what you get for disobeying. 

For skipping your dinner with him.

This is the inevitable thing that has made you unable to tell Din you love him. This looming promise of Kodo.

There’s nothing you could possibly do right now to escape the fate before you. The fear you feel right now is certainly not the fear of love that Din described to you. 

But that quickly changes.

You don’t get a chance to react as Din takes a step between you and Kodo, he doesn’t even wind up, he just drives his fist forward and you hear the sickening crunch of your husband's nose just before he slumps to the floor. 

As you stare at Din, you know your fear has changed. His shoulders heaving, his rage fills the corridor as you listen to his ragged breaths through the modulator. He turns around to face you, but you just stare at his hand, where the evidence of this potentially deadly mistake is dripping down his fingertips. You have never been more terrified for another person's life the way you are right now for Din. 

You’re mesmerized by the little speckles of your husband's blood, a stark contrast to the yellow fingertips of his gloves.

And suddenly it feels like all the air leaves the corridor as you finally look into his visor, you don’t see Din though, all you see is what they’re going to do to him for this.

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[thefandomenchantress]

Chapter 2 Episode 15 Spoilers below!

Since Ace being the culprit has brought about so much pain to ace lovers, including me, I figured I'd make a list of all the good things that him being the culprit brings to us. Even though Ace will (probably) be executed next episode, that doesn't mean that nothing good came out of this, right?

-Ace's backstory may be revealed much sooner than expected! Before we would've had to wait for chapter 3 or chapter 4 and so on, but since Ace will be gone soon, almost everything not revealed next episode will get told to us in a bonus episode! (I think every dead person gets one of those? Idk if that's officially confirmed). I doubt Teruko's gonna find, like, Ace's diary in chapter three detailing his life story, so if we're ever getting the Taylor Lore™, it'll be in a bonus episode! Plus, a bonus episode would come out a lot faster than the whole of chapter three, so more Ace content sooner no matter what happens in it! And there's always the chance he gets picked for an FTE, since dead people are on the list of options.

-Ace canonically has neat, fancy handwriting. Begone rumors of Ace having illegible, traditionally boy-ish handwriting, he actually writes like a 19th century scholar and I find this very funny. More evidence for my 'Ace likes reading and writing and wanted to become a romance author' crack theory, since he also reenforced his particularness about vocabulary in chapter 2 part 2. (Our only remaining question: Does Ace actually have terrible spelling ('responsibel'), or did he just think Eden would?)

-Ace is very good at being sneaky and often overhears things he shouldn't. I can't wait for this to be used as a plot device in numerous fics ("XANDER YOU'LL NEVER GUESS THE SHIT I JUST HEARD DAVID SAY ABOUT YOU WHEN HE THOUGHT HE WAS ALONE").

-Ace will have to be included in the dead (formerly a) trio posts forevermore. Get ready for Xander-Min-Arei-Ace shenanigans.

-Now that the cast has been forced to acknowledge that being dumb and angry aren't Ace's only traits and that he's just as human as the rest of them, Ace is much less likely to be seen as just those two things by the average viewer. Ace's popularity, or at least the amount of dislike towards him, seems to have shifted since the last episode, and I'm happy more people are able to enjoy what his character has to offer now. He's a cool little guy. I've literally NEVER seen the Ace Markey tag this busy before.

-We got so many cool Ace CGs guys. SO MANY. Including one where he's hanging upside down on the swing set and looks weirdly cute for someone in the middle of a murder plan.

-Also new sprites! The DRDTdev gave Ace a redesign knowing full-well that it would only get a singular chapter of use, and I massively respect that. We already got some new sprites in part 2 of chapter 2 so far, and I'm guessing next episode he'll probably have at least one more breakdown sprite before he dies.

-For someone who no one in the cast liked, he's definitely going to leave an impact. He's finally made at least some of the cast realize what happens when they ignore the issues right in front of them. Ace shouts about how everyone hates him and sees him as an insufferable idiot? Eh, probably nothing, we don't have to worry about that. Sure, multiple people told him he's gonna die next in here, and he almost got murdered, but that won't amount to anything. What's he gonna do, murder someone--WAIT SHIT Ace step away from the Arei I repeat step away from the Arei-- (plus Teruko parallels). I'll probably go more in-depth about this sort of thing in a different post.

-WE NEVER GOT TO SEE WHAT'S UNDER HIS GLOVES. Kyoko and Mukuro both had hand-related secrets that connected them to the plot later on, does that mean Ace will have some sort of relevance to the mastermind or overall lore later on? Like a Mai tattoo situation? (Or maybe it's another thing that may be alluded to or discussed in the bonus episode)(Or left to interpretation but I hope not because I have so many theories).

If you have any more suggestions for other good Ace-related things the culprit reveal brought us, let me know and I can add them to the list! We need as many good things as we can think of right now...

[zgvlt]

hearts held out of harms way ace trappola x reader x deuce spade (polycule)

commissioned by: shopkeep !!!

summary: in which (1) ace, a nobleman, desperately wants to be more than just the earl you and deuce serve; (2) deuce, a knight, doesn't how to get not just one but two people to fall in love with him; and (3) you, a fairy, try to push ace and deuce together while ignoring your own feelings for them

tags: gender neutral reader (only you is used), sfw, fluff, knight x nobility x fairy, commoner x nobility, poly relationship, getting together fic, 8.3k+ words, not beta read, completed (division by "chapters" = just a stylistic choice)

The young Lord Ace Trappola was a nobleman people found difficulty understanding. The new earl—and how new he truly was; how unexpected, too—was many things all at once and, depending on who was asked, they would all have something different to say in regards to the gentleman.

For instance, some would say he was no gentleman at all—some being a past love, who claimed she had never really felt his love for her at all. It was not too uncommon for nobles to abandon their old partner one way or another, but it did dishearten those in society seeking to become his marriage candidate.

Others, specifically his old schoolmates from the academy, would call him clever and cheery but a little too carefree, so much so that they were surprised he had been declared not just the heir, but had taken hold of the position the moment he left his youth. Was it the truth, that he was that kind of character? Yes, though it did give way to less than savory questions regarding his inexperience and capabilities.

Finally, though said noble would not know until later how the rumor had been birthed, it was said that he was a man who had deceived everyone magnificently into thinking he was who he presented himself to the public. As to who or what he truly was, nobody could quite agree. There were those that argued he was the manipulative sort, perhaps one who dabbled in illegal magic, for how else could he ascend to his position so quickly? There were those, too, who had proposed that perhaps their household had something to hide, that the young Trappola was simply a dutiful son to his father.

A small, terribly small group, however, would argue that the truth behind Ace Trappola was that he…

“Good morning My Lord!” Ace looked up from his desk, immediately abandoning his work. It’s not that he’s particularly excited or anything, but he sure does think that his two faithful attendants are far more fun than any scroll or sheet of paper could be.

Former delinquent turned knight, his right-hand man Deuce Spade had a serious look on his face despite the jolly greeting. Beside him was you, his right-hand’s right-hand, a fairy who greeted him in a calm but elegant manner. The juxtaposition between his two aides had surprised him once-upon-a-time, but he’d come to realize that they were far better suited to each other than he had initially realized.

“Lock the doors, then be at ease,” he ordered. Though he did not care much for appearing particularly prim or proper, the idea of being walked in on while he conversed with his two companions did not appeal to him either.

“Slacking again, Lord Trappola?” You peered over his shoulder, reading the documents he had atop his table. “Household affairs? New knightings? Isn’t that mere child’s play for you? You could very likely finish all of those in one go.”

“If I accomplish all of it in one sitting, they will think it a sign to pile more work for me the day after,” he explained, as though it were common sense. “It’s better to slack off a little bit sometimes. I understand I’m quite capable, but I detest people who push all their work onto others.”

“There, there. You can let your worries out with me,” you laughed at him, fingers combing through his unkempt hair as you did so. It was an action he always distinguished from his father and brother, who would purposefully ruffle it, or Deuce, who accidentally chopped a portion off with his sword. 

He used to think it was out of pity, once, or some kind of disapproval, the way you could bicker and banter with Deuce but hesitated to do the same with him. However, nowadays it was easy to tell that it was your way of empathizing with him. That good-naturedness of yours was probably why Deuce clung to you, too. “Let’s have you spar with Deuce so you can catch a break.”

“Exactly what I was thinking! Can you read minds or something? You know I don’t know much about fairies.”

“You just so happen to be an open book, Deuce. If I had come to possess that kind of ability, though…” Ace knew you were merely being humorous, an attempt at getting a laugh out of him and a way to tease Deuce, but he did shiver the slightest bit as you laughed ominously. Just what would you do given that kind of power? “Though not quite fairy, I have heard of a fae that can see people’s dreams… Or was it manipulate? I can’t quite recall.” 

“If someone were to see my dreams…” Deuce blanched, and Ace found himself curious by the reaction. By the looks of it, you were curious, too. Ace’s dreams tended to be the nonsensical sort—that or he could never remember them at all save for a detail or two, like how you or Deuce or even some old schoolmates from the academy would simply appear. 

“Now that you mention it, I do remember you sleep talking.” You looked away from Deuce and back to him, fingers still weaving through his hair. “There was a night, when Deuce and I were still wanderers, where…”

Cruel, Ace thought to himself, smiling, the good-natured fairy could tease the poor knight again and again. 

“You truly are incapable of not embarrassing me at every opportunity, especially in front of our liege,” the blue haired man huffed, though he hardly seemed frustrated. On the contrary, his gaze had gone through a fiery change, as though engaged in a new competition. “If we are to compare sleeping habits, then yours–”

“Are not as worse, I am certain.” In truth, Ace was unsure if you were being truthful, but that aside–

“Oho, feel free to argue and spill your deepest secrets in front of me~ Although…” he feigned a sigh, “did the two of you forget my presence? Or that I know nothing of either of your sleeping patterns?” Or that it was considered inappropriate to so much as discuss nighttime activities, no matter how innocent? Ace could not say he was against it, however, having always been less… traditional, he supposed.

At his words, neither you nor Deuce had the decency to be embarrassed, though the latter made a genuine attempt at appearing to be. Clearly he had done a good job of keeping things as casual and comfortable as possible, even with the imbalance of power. That he could not erase, but at the very least he would feel much better if it could be ignored.

“Ahem, so are you up for it, Ace? The sparring? It could be good practice for the upcoming tournament.” Deuce had been leaning against the door as he said it, but he jolted up as he’d come to realize his informality. “Or, uh, Lord Ace? No, should it be Lord Trappola?”

Never mind. Perhaps some work still needed to be done, after all.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ace said quickly, hoping to elucidate the matter. The previous topic had not been forgotten, but perhaps he would be able to bring the matter up at a different time. “It’s just the three of us right now. Isn’t it exhausting being so formal all the time?”

“I guess that’s fair,” Deuce replied, “although I have a feeling I’ll call you the wrong thing in public.”

“Mhm, it’s the same for me, which is why I’m avoiding forgoing the title,” you sighed, “we’d cause quite the scandal if we so much as fumble–”

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter!” Ace snorted, “What do they care? You’re my people, so if they have a problem with how I let the two of you address me, then they should bring it up with the Earl of Trappola himself!”

For the most part, he had been serious with his proclamation—the formalities were starting to get to him, and he’d prefer to maintain Deuce’s casualness with him; has been meaning to convert you into dropping the titles, too. However, the way Deuce blinked up at him and the way you began clapping made it feel as though he had put on some performance instead, a rare show of his nobility.

“Our Lord… is a noble too, after all,” Deuce said with disbelief—Ace thought it to be feigned, though a small part of him wondered if it was genuine. You followed suit with a slow nod of your head. 

“We made the right choice of pledging our loyalty to him after all.”

“Hah?” Ace scratched his head, inevitably messing with what you had worked to fix. “Seriously, would the me of the past have guessed the two outsiders I brought into my estate would become the bane of my existence?”

He had said as much, though he knew—and he knew that his two attendants knew, too—that no regrets had been brought in with said decision.

Deuce Spade enjoyed the life he was currently living.

It was a stark contrast to the life he possessed back home, his troublesome ways before he stowed away on that boat, before he crossed paths with you in that forest, before the two of you somehow wound up in the Trappola estate.

It was a tough life and he had ways to go before he could show his face to his mother, but it was a life he could finally be proud of, a life that was his.

Which was why he trained intensively and persistently, the need to prove his resolve not simply to the world, but to the people who he cherished in that world—the parent who awaited his letters every week, whom he lived for, and the two he swore to protect, whom he would lay down his life for… 

But he knew you would be angered to hear such a bold statement, and the noble he was guarding would ask how he grew to become so serious, so he supposed he would have to keep his perspective a secret.

He thanked the Queen and whatever deities there were up there that you could not read minds, or see dreams for that matter. How troubling would it have been for him if you knew how his affections had grown for you and for–

“Oh, is that for Ace?” 

Though he supposed you already knew of that, thus he only had his feelings for you being leaked to be worried about. Not that he was not worried about his feelings for Ace being made known—both, both were cause of worry. The mere idea of him being fond of two people should have been troubling, what more that one was his close companion and the other his liege?!

“Ace? Is that right?” he said with a stifled chuckle, “Were you not the one who wanted to address him properly?”

“What could you possibly mean? I could never! Well, if you pretend you did not hear my informality, that is.” Stepping closer and fully entering his quarters, you peered over his shoulder, eyeing the soft fabric carefully. You prodded a finger at the handkerchief, tracing his attempt at embroidery. “You have gotten better! The heart is cute.”

“Only in the front. You should see how badly I fumbled the back,” he said, showing you the messy stitching himself. Still, he knew progress was progress, and he gleamed at you having taken notice of his hard work. “Whoever could have guessed that years of watching my mother stitch my clothes back together would be of use for this very reason?”

“I’m sure she would be proud to see your work so far.” 

Genuine. That was always something he enjoyed about you—genuine in your actions, genuine in your words. Thinking about it, it was somewhat humorous that he had come to like Ace Trappola too despite his selective dishonesty. He supposed, at the end of the day, it had to do with his honed ability to detect those with immoral intentions, the inherent lack of such within the two of you.

Surrounded by people who were good to him, he often found himself thinking he could finally be on the right path—the path of becoming someone good for his mother.

“It might be nice to have one sent to her as well, though not yet,” Deuce replied sheepishly, “even though I worked hard on this one, it seems practice is still needed on my end.” 

“I believe in you. What is a needle if not a small sword? What are stitches if not… hmm… different techniques using the needle, just as stances and movements are to battle?” Even you seemed unsure about the last analogy. Nevertheless, it had made Deuce laugh, your intentions in uplifting his spirits effective as always.

“More like things you must get after a battle,” he retorted, shaking his head. “Given the topic, it should be appropriate to ask… How’s your progress?”

“Progress with…?”

“Your token!” he reminded, finding you silly for forgetting. “You’ve chosen to craft an amulet, right?”

“I did say that, yes. It seemed fitting given magic is my specialty, even though handkerchiefs and ribbons seem to be the norm in society these days. I’ve yet to review the rules, though, so perhaps no spells can be imbued yet,” you sighed, “So should I give something, an amulet or some kind of  charm would be good.”

By now, he could say he knew you rather well, and he knew that while you did your best to be truthful with him, you did not exactly shy away from allowing people to interpret your words differently. Sometimes, you seem to want to be misunderstood. 

It’s just too bad that he caught and understood your choice of wording.

“What do you mean by should you?  Did we not agree we were both giving Ace something?”

You shrugged. “Would it not be better if, oh, perhaps you were the only one to give him a gift?”

“But we both care for him as our liege and as his… friends? Companions? Whatever the appropriate term may be, we are that to him and he is that to us. Certainly he would appreciate getting something from you?” he reasoned, an attempt at convincing you to continue as planned.

“Yes, but you like him. I am able to give him a token at some other time surely, but for now… I don’t see how my giving him anything will aid in my mission to help you convey your feelings–oh don’t look at me like that, fine, your appreciation for him.”

He huffed out your name, willing to argue with you about the situation if he really needed to, but after staring you down the best he could whilst looking up at you, you eventually relented, as though carrying a soft spot for him, or for Ace. 

Likelihood was that it was both.

“I will consider it, but don’t mention anything. In any case, since I’m banned from competing due to the humans-only stipulation, hmph, I’ll give you a token. Since you’ll be competing for the both of us.”

Deuce finally smiled. He would still try to make sure you handed Ace one as well, but for now he would pretend to be satisfied with his small victory.

“If–When I win, I’ll make sure Ace knows it’ll be on both of our behalves.”

You cannot stop yourself from smiling as well. “Have I ever told you I was thankful? That you are always trying to include me in things, even with matters in regards to Ace? Even when I’m not actually one of his knights?”

It’s because I like you too, you foolish fairy! 

“Because you are our resident fairy and perhaps the best magic user in the estate,” he proclaimed. Always the first to tease you, always the first to praise you.

“Well if you put it that way,” you chuckled, “and since you are being so terribly kind to me today, I’ll put in the effort to defend you should the young lord throw a fit about his own knight beating him in the tournament… and of course, I shall comfort you should you throw a fit should you lose to him.”

“So win or lose, it will be a lose-lose situation. Absolutely wonderful!” He had only been joking, truly, but you gave him a slight nudge at the comment. 

“Just do your best regardless!” 

You laughed, a warmth not unlike the sunlight peeking from the woodlands the day he first met you. 

“Besides, you have a goal when you win, don’t you?” 

Momentarily bashful, determination soon replaced it. Fears and anxieties aside, Deuce knew that should he win, the adrenaline would certainly convince him to profess his adoration and devotion to their earl and, unbeknownst to you, their fairy.

“A confession.”

“Oh, for sure, but that should only be the first step!” you encouraged, always the first to aid him in his lofty ambitions. “Have you considered marriage? Or a grand trip to another nation? I heard the Sunset Savanna is lovely this time of year.”

He snorted, “Perhaps nobility move faster than us commoners, but I find a proposal would be too sudden even for human standards. However… A trip does sound nice.”

“Does it not? Ah, but should you go about one in the future, I’ll lock you both out of the manor if you fail to bring me a souvenir.”

“I cannot speak for Ace, but… Oh, I might as well—Ace will certainly lock you out of the manor should you refuse to come with us!” 

“You shall be there to help me back inside.”

“Wrong! As a matter of fact, I will be present to drag you in the carriage with us.” He was being quite serious, but you laughed at his apparent persistence. 

“All three of us stuck in a carriage, perhaps even a boat or two, for weeks,” you were groaning with feigned displeasure, but when you told him it’d likely be good fun, he could tell even you couldn’t lie to yourself there, that you enjoyed their company as much as he, and to speak for someone else, and Ace did.

But as much as he enjoyed having you around, he also knew that with you being in his room, any more progress for the day was pretty much impossible. Ace’s aside, he’s going to have a hard time starting on your handkerchief anytime soon if you’re going to remain a frequent visitor.

Ace knew he carried a certain attitude about the work assigned to him. He knew, despite the loyalty of those in his estate, his detractors would call him all sorts of insults, deprecate him and his character, see him as nothing more than a young man who cared not for aged tradition and stiff nobility, and had no ability to command and control his territory. 

Ability aside, he simply never cared to accomplish them immediately as opposed to pacing them according to his tastes. 

Thus, he would do as he wished, just as his ancestors would’ve before him. After all, would his family have become, and stayed for that matter, nobles if they had continued to abide by what was expected? 

If anything, would it not be expected of him to differ from the rest of them? A smart person would, he believed.

Which was why he found himself in the markets again, not bothering to put on any sort of disguise. He grew up visiting the nearby towns anyway, with some of the vendors having practically raised him since childhood, so really, what was the point?

“I’m still not convinced this is the best idea,” Deuce sighed, following him a little too far for his liking, “not that my opinion should matter. What you say goes, Lord Ace!”

“You have gotten comfortable enough with me to complain about the tasks I give you, but not comfortable enough to walk a centimeter closer or call me by my given name alone,” Ace teased, putting on a show of scolding his knight. “Your perception of what is more egregious between the three astounds me.”

“It is one thing for you to be alright with it, it is another for the prying ears to be. If it were only up to me, I would talk quite informally to you, too.” Ace need not question who too was referring to, for there was only one other person in the estate Deuce relied on to the extent of comfort: you.

“And I’ve let you change the subject… Really, what will happen if an assassin, or someone who wants to cause you harm, comes across you in broad daylight?”

“Then you’ll deal with them! Although… I may be able to protect myself better than you, hmm?” he laughed, shaking his head at the slight irritation Deuce attempted to hide. He could not get back at him now, but Ace was sure Deuce would attempt to do so the next time they were on the training grounds. “And perhaps I wished to change the subject of our conversation.”

“To?”

“You, perhaps. Our one and only fairy as well, possibly.” 

Except, despite his wording, he was positively assured of his choices. Discussing the two of them—well, the three of you, was always a difficult affair when you were around, and Ace is not dense enough to not detect your affection and yet avoidance of him, the scheming nature you seem to possess and yet hold back in front of him but fully show towards Deuce.

He never needed a companion during his trips out, sometimes preferred not to have one, so perhaps his invitation carried impure intentions. 

Deuce stiffened and though he tried to pass it off as a simple response to his surroundings, Ace knew better. What could have rendered such a reaction? Was it a secret you, or him, or the both of you together, were hiding? Was it something he ought not to know but would undoubtedly weed out right this second?

“What could you possibly want to know?” his knight inquired, seemingly nervous around him. How uncharacteristic. 

“A few things. For starters… There’s something wrong.”

“With what?”

Your name left Ace’s lips. Even to his ears it sounded a bit awkward, like he knew how to say it but barely uttered it outside of his head, at least compared to how Deuce would say it—undoubtedly familiar with you in a way he, too, wanted to be. It’s only then that Ace realized his hypocrisy… or, if hypocrisy was too strong a description, then the humor with the two of you.

His insistence at being just Ace and not Earl Ace or Lord Trappola, yet his persistence in calling you their fairy, their magician. 

Maybe it’s the need to remind himself that you’re one of his people, too, without having to commit to actually saying it. Maybe it’s his way of letting you know of your presence in his life, considering you always seemed so insistent on downplaying your importance to him and, if his eyes are working as clearly as he thinks, to Deuce as well.

Really, did you think he played favorites? Because he did, obviously, but the plurality implied he certainly had more than one! For such a scheming being, were you not oddly dense?

“I see…” Deuce muttered. With a hint of embarrassment, Ace figured the knight actually understood, if not completely then partially, his troubles when it came to you. “What could I… Is there any way for me to help?”

Cute. He’d rather gouge his eyes out than admit he thinks it unironically, but he still remembers the rascal that appeared in front of his manor, all roughed up with a scary but determined look on his face. Seeing Deuce be so thoughtful and kind when it comes to both him and you is just plain nice—the heavens know the world needs more people like that around him… and in noble society in general, but he’d rather not share with them.

“Help?”

“With, you know… I could give you advice, or–”

Ace sighed. Speaking of dense… Is there even a good way to say, ‘If the two of you haven’t noticed, I have a severe, desperate need to infiltrate and be a part of whatever it is the two of you have’ without being perceived as rude, or worse, a complete nutter.

Not being able to think of anything, he reluctantly changed the subject.

“Let’s go look around the market. Help the local economy! Purchase a few things for ourselves.”

The man next to him narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Ace genuinely worried that Deuce realized everything. Sure, he mocked the two of you in his head for not understanding him, but he certainly was not ready to reveal anything! Especially without any assurance from either involved party!

The knight did not utter another word for a while, simply guiding him through the stalls, prattling about things you enjoyed. Alongside him, the earl absorbed every piece of information, all the while watching whatever it was the Deuce’s eyes landed on for more than a few seconds.

Ace, whether he was aware of it or not, harbored feelings for you, Deuce was sure of it. He had his assumptions beforehand, mostly due to his increasing number of delusions of all three of you. In any case, there was no doubt in his mind now—he was not alone in harboring feelings for you.

On one hand, he could not blame Ace. You were, for all intents and purposes, his first friend, a cherished friend, thus he understood how the earl could fall for you. If anything, he’s going as far as applauding the choice. If anyone deserves love and adoration, of course it should be you! 

On the other hand, he’s reminded of his own troubles. If Ace is troubled with getting you to be more comfortable and closer to him, Deuce is troubled with getting not one, but two people to miraculously like him in the same manner he does. Meanwhile, Deuce can’t even tell if you like either one of them that way! It’s just a mess, truthfully, one he cannot speak of lest all three of you end up in a scandal, so he can do nothing but keep quiet…

Alright, perhaps that was not entirely true. There was something he could do.

“That’s a nice color,” Deuce commented. He can’t really differentiate the stones when they’re all round and smoothed out so he’s not sure if you’re holding a jasper or a carnelian (names he knows only because you had a knack for buying all sorts of stones) or something else entirely, but it’s this blend of orange and red and he knew it was chosen for a reason.

You smiled at him fondly, knowingly, “I’m not surprised you like the color. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re already aware of what I think.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop with the teasing.” You abide by your word, dropping your stare so you could focus on the task at hand—creating an amulet for Ace. “It can’t be helped that I cannot resist either one of you.”

“Then don’t! Did either of us ever imply that you should do as such?” he huffed, “I know for certain that Ace—”

“That I would what, exactly?”

As though caught in the midst of an immoral act, Deuce scrambled to hide everything as quickly as possible for you, shoving the stone in the nearest box he could open. Meanwhile, you were left to face Ace, who made no show of being even the slightest bit apologetic for his intrusion.

“Aren’t nobles meant to have perfect etiquette?” Were you smiling? Yes. Did you look amused? Not particularly. “I’m always happy to see you, Ace, but I can’t say for certain that I appreciate your storming in my quarters without so much as a knock on the door.”

“You don’t look particularly happy right now.” Ace, by contrast, looked particularly happy at your slip up, and Deuce would do his part in not calling you out on it… until Ace left, of course.

But the earl seemed to have no intentions of doing so any time soon, propping himself up against the now-shut door. 

“I’m perfectly happy, for sure,” you insisted, and though your face was not betraying it, Deuce thought you truly meant it. “But what are you doing here? You’ve never visited my room before.”

“I meant to look for Deuce to see if he wanted to train–”

You and Deuce locked eyes instantly. You’re trying not to make your change in expression too noticeable, but Deuce has observed you far too many times to not notice. It’s incredibly evident that it embarrassed him, almost, that you could be so happy for him because of something so very simple. 

It was a childish sort of glee, which might have been why he accepted it so readily. He never had the chance to experience that sort of situation and he’s not too sure you have either, having a laugh with someone over some puppy love. 

“He’s certainly free to do so,” you supplied, “if you want to, you’re free to take him off my hands right now.”

“Ah, but I’ve changed my mind. We train every day, so we should have a change of pace, should we not? Perhaps the tavern that opened the week prior?” 

“Hmm, should you really be forgoing training? The current victor of the tournament, the young Rosehearts, will be competing, too.” you interjected. It’s not an outright rejection of a suggestion, but Ace should have prepared a better excuse if this was his plan all along, thought Deuce. Still, he was currently his liege’s number one supporter—more time spent with the both of you? He could not see it as anything but a positive for all parties involved. 

“Oh please! What’s one day spent with my two companions instead of training until sundown?” Ace snorted, “And it was different last year! This year, my victory against the young duke is certain.”

“To be sure,” Deuce replied immediately, half out of belief and half out of solidarity of having lost to the same man. Next to him, you nodded your head slowly.

“Then if you’re certain…” What you said about not being able to resist Ace and Deuce must have been true, your reluctance at heading out visibly fading. This time, it’s Ace and Deuce who exchanged a knowing glance, and the same, childish feeling bubbled up within him again.

It’s not quite the trip to the other nation you mentioned to him, but it’s a delightful start, is it not?

“Then the both of you better get changed!” Ace grinned boyishly, “Or don’t! Regardless, I’ll have the carriage prepared by five!”

“Wait a moment, shouldn’t we be calling the carriage for you?!” you exclaimed, but the earl had already left your quarters. “Good riddance. Deuce, could I have the amulet I was working on back? We have some time before we need to leave and… I have the sinking suspicion he won’t leave us alone before the next few days.”

“Definitely. To both statements.” Remembering where he had placed it, he opened up the wooden box to retrieve the stone, only to be distracted by an already completed amulet—a nice blue that reminded him awfully of… ah. 

“Deuce? The amulet?” you asked again, shaking him out of his reverie.

“Here.” If you notice anything odd about his expression you do not speak of it, allowing him to leave your room peacefully to ready himself for the awaited excursion.

“I told Deuce I would comfort him should he lose to you… I can’t say I expected this turn of events instead.”

Perhaps Ace should have trained more. 

In his defense, he did not think Riddle Rosehearts would have done that well in the tournament considering there were no horses to ride on this season. His athleticism was never the best either during their days at the academy, so even if his swings were passable, his stamina should have run out quickly enough. And yet…

“But next year surely, my liege,” you comforted him, wiping the sweat off of him with a white handkerchief, uncaring of the fact that the both of you were in public or, perhaps, knowing everyone’s eyes would be on the ongoing match rather than the two of you. Even though Ace prided himself of being the (self-designated) mature person amongst the three of you, he did not say no to the opportunity of receiving your attention and affection. 

“Besides, not all hope is lost. We can still have the winner come from our house.”

Our house. Ace gleamed at your words. Of course. The ideal situation would have been to face off against his knight, but as much as he wanted to be the winner, Deuce being the victor would have been just as much of a joyous affair for the Trappola Earldom.

“If our Deucey wins, he’ll never let me forget it,” he sighed.

“But it would be worth it, having someone to avenge you, wouldn’t it?” Seemingly having deemed him presentable enough, your hands returned to your lap, handkerchief in tow. It's only then that Ace realizes it.

“Deuce gave you one too,” he said, more amused than anything. “What’d he sew for you?”

You didn't respond but you did smile, so it was likely something meaningful to you. If you were happy, then Deuce must have done a good job at choosing something for you, just as he chose something that well-suited him.

“He did not have to. I’m not competing in this tournament, so…” Again, Ace thought, you were smiling, so what did it matter if Deuce did not have to. Could people not act based on wants, now?

“And yet you’re using it, just as you’re wearing the tassel I gave you.” He grinned, fingers flicking the fringes the color you loved most, allegedly. If Deuce gave him the right information. You liked it enough to keep it on you, at least. “The tassel I did not have to get you.”

“It’s nice. They’re both nice gifts,” you murmured, and even though you’re no longer meeting his gaze he can still tell that you’re being honest. A part of him will attribute it to his amazing observation skills, but another, far warmer part of him knows it’s because he’s gotten to know you better. 

The two of you are already by his side, closer than before, and yet it is still not enough.

“What design did Deuce sew for your handkerchief?”

“Don’t pretend like you do not know.” For he knew for a fact that Deuce must have shared it with you, or at the very least failed to hide it from you (just as he failed to hide his tokens from Deuce).

“Then what do you think of it?”

He brought it out of his breast pocket, having tucked it in there before his matches began. 

“The hearts are differing in sizes. You can tell there were loose threads he tried cutting as much as possible without ruining the whole work. Still, there are hearts, the symbol of Trappola.” The symbol of Deuce’s dedication and loyalty. 

“It’s… I suppose it’s—” You threw him a look, and Ace reluctantly gave in, “—It is good. Give me a break! Nobles tend to have a hard time being honest, you know! If you think I’m bad, you ought to see the rest of them!”

You laughed, “I know, I know. I won’t tell. You should do it by yourself, after all.”

“Only if he wins,” he said, grinning.

“So I’ll tell him for you if he loses?” 

“A menace, you are,” he muttered, “I’ll tell him you thought he would lose, then.”

You no longer respond to his taunt, eyes now stuck to the grounds, clearly waiting for a certain blue-haired knight to appear before everyone’s very eyes, but your hands are moving, reaching into one of your pockets as though searching for something.

“I meant to give you something as well,” you said, pulling out two amulets. The stones are different in color, different in shape, but the similar craftsmanship all lead to one creator—you. “I’m aware these types of tokens tend to be given out before the matches, for good luck of course, but I’ve gone and imbued magic so I couldn’t take the risk of disqualification, and thus…”

You’re explaining. Overexplaining, really, in Ace’s humble opinion, every possible meaning you could think of—the importance of the stone’s color, the stone itself, what rune’s been inlaid and what spells you’ve enchanted it with. It’s detailed and clearly an overly complicated process and yes, he cannot deny that his heart is not unaffected by the gesture, but looking at the clearly matching amulets just makes him laugh.

He snatches the red one out of your waiting  hand, knowing what was clearly meant for him. His heart had just calmed down and yet it is full again.

So he might have been dense too, but at least he was the first to figure it out. That is a victory in and of itself, one he is never going to forget and let go of. Ever.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing!” He’s thumbing the amulet within his palm, invigorated despite his loss earlier. Even with the magic, he doubts it’s the stone’s doing. “Just thinking of how entertaining things will be from here on out.”

“Because of the match?”

“Sure,” Ace laughed, “because of the match.”

“I still got further into the competition than you,” Deuce argued, nursing his own injuries with one hand and… holding onto your amulet with the other hand. The injured hand. He justified it by saying it was because the amulet had healing properties, as you said, but he was just busy admiring it and thinking of a way to combine it with his (Ace’s) tassel to make a combined good luck charm of some sort.

“Second place is still the first place loser, Loosey-Deucey” mocked Ace, though not out of ill-intent. He knows malice is not at all there by the way he patted him on the back after his duel, the way he beamed at his progress, the way he promised to train harder with him so either one of them could take the young duke down. It’s the sincerity before everything else that makes him take everything he says with a grain of salt.

You seemed to understand all the same, simply allowing the two to go at it with each other since they were unable to do so officially. 

“It does not matter. I would have won if it was a competition of fists over swords,” Deuce laughed, “it’s just a shame. There was something I wanted to do if I won, but since I lost, I don’t have it in me to proceed.”

“Pray tell, what could that possibly be, dear Deuce?” 

He stared the earl down, shaking his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. You can find out when I win next year, my liege.”

“Is that so?” Ace asked, quirked eyebrow, almost as if he interpreted his personal oath as a challenge to beat. “And if I win instead of you, will you not go about completing this quest of yours?”

Beside him, you stood up.

“Perhaps I should set off—”

“Absolutely not!” Ace interjected just as Deuce reached out to stop you from moving, hand grasping your arm. There’s a momentary confusion—he knows why he stopped you from moving, you and your assumptions on this and that occurring between him and Ace and you wanting to step away from it, but Ace stopping you is…

“Hold on, should I leave?”

“What, no! Nobody’s leaving! I’m not getting up from here either! Are the two of you truly oblivious or are you playing oblivious?” Ace groaned, scrunching up his nose in distress. “Why is being the smartest person in the room such a difficult affair?”

“Rude,” Deuce muttered, before quickly inquiring, “but to what are you referring to?”

Instead of words, Ace made an odd motion with his hands, some triangular gesture that was clearly meant to speak louder than words. 

Deuce wants to laugh because it’s an amusing action for a nobleman to be making but humorously, it works well in getting Deuce to understand. It was to be expected, considering he spent much of his time thinking of this exact scenario (albeit, a setting more romantic than the manor’s medical ward, but he’s not in a position to be fussy about the details). He’s trying to catch your eye immediately, but compared to him, you just seem… confused.

Not confused in the sense that you did not understand what Ace was referring to—there was no subtlety in his implications—but more so a general confusion over what was happening.

“I know about Deuce’s feelings, quite obviously, and I was more than certain that his feelings for you had a chance of being reciprocated, so my being here…”

Deuce cannot help himself anymore, and it appears neither can Ace as they both erupt into laughter of chaos and disbelief. Who or what they are laughing at is not a question—it is everything, and then themselves for their own, self-induced stupidity and suffering. 

“I get that it might not have been obvious with me, but with Deuce?” Ace exclaimed, astounded at how you failed to realize the knight’s affections. “He could not have made it any more obvious if he tried!”

“Sorry? It’s quite difficult to determine gratefulness versus love versus love…

“And let’s not be a hypocrite as I could say the same for you, my lord! I thought Deuce was plenty obvious about his feelings, and yet, if I am right in regards to the timing of this affair, you’ve just realized it recently,” you huffed, “we are one in the same.”

Deuce stops laughing. Why did it feel like the two of you were blaming him for your respective lack of analytical skills?!

“As long as we agree that’s not my fault! If I was incredibly obvious, as the two of you would put it, the two of you are anything but.” But with Deuce’s insistence, the two of you turn to look at him as though he had grown a second head.

“What? No! We could make an argument for Ace as I was only mostly sure that your feelings for him were reciprocated, but I hardly made any effort to conceal my own.”

“Agreed. It was as clear as day to the point that I thought the two of you had already gotten into a relationship,” laughed Ace, probably the most honest he was going to be for the rest of the day, “and without me! I was quite offended at the thought of being excluded.”

“Like we could ever leave you be, my lord,” you replied, half a joke but fully the truth. “What would have become of us without you in the first place?”

“Like you would ever let us leave you be,” Deuce quipped, having finally absorbed the situation. If it was an accurate assessment, Ace had no plans of letting them know, merely grinning in response. “What would become of you had we not arrived at your estate?”

“Well there would be far less rumors about me, for one.” Still, the Earl Trappola will remain himself, the need to appear as though he had the upper hand when they all knew the feelings shared between them were of equal measure. Still, with a singular gesture, the two of them walk towards their liege—amulet clanging against his remaining armor, tassels swaying with your very steps. 

“But who cares about that, right?” Deuce replied, knowing it would be what Ace wished to hear—after all, he’d been pretty apparent about it since day one. As they neared him, Ace pulled them closer, making sure the both of them sat on either side of him. 

Then, Deuce heard the door lock. Ace and Deuce both turned to you, the obvious culprit, and you merely shrugged. “I know we’re not supposed to care, but let’s not cause a scandal today of all days! Who knows how many prying eyes there are in the estate!”

“Too many. Don’t be surprised if a strongly worded, but supportive, letter from either father or my brother arrives at our doorstep tomorrow morning,” Ace snorted, “Just hope it’s not some distant relative. I’m sure there are some spies prowling in our manor as we speak.”

“There won’t be any if we deal with them!” Deuce declared, “We’ll protect your dignity, my lord!”

You nod in agreement just as Ace smiles. “I’ll hold you two to that!”

There are other things Deuce wants to declare, to ask and to question. He wants to know what they are now, what will change between the three of them, and what will be of them in the future. He wants to ask and yet it doesn’t feel quite right, not now, perhaps because he already knows, and what he knows is not mere fantasy but reality.

Dear Madam,  Good day to you. I hope you do not mind if I skip the formalities. Until this fairy learns how to send letters with magic alone, the cost of these letters will unfortunately be priced according to how many sheets of paper we use up. In any case, Deuce must have updated you about everything that has happened in his letters. He must have also mentioned that the earl and I will be sending you letters to ask for your permission or blessing or whatever word it had been that the earl had used. In truth, we had been mostly joking regarding that. Ace—the earl—does not believe that the process of seeing one another requires permission from one’s parents, he is far from traditional, but we had come to the agreement to push through with the letters first due to the unusual state of our relationship—that being that we are all seeing one another, with one party not being human and another one being the noble we serve. Foremost, we agreed to send our letters out of respect for you, as we’ve long known what you mean to our knight, and what he means to you, his mother. As previously mentioned, I believe Deuce has told you much of our household affairs and much of his life, but I believe you would appreciate knowing how we see him. I am certain you know that your son spends much of his time training to become a splendid knight, and I am sure you would be happy to know that, day by day, he arrives closer to his goal. It would only make sense considering his sparring partner is none other than our competitive lord as well (and tell not the earl, too, but after keeping track of their victories and defeats, Deuce may have a lead on the tally). His skills are not which I wish to share the most, however. Ace and I have learned from Deuce about his past, we’ve known for some time now. Constant is his worry, just as constant is his change. His warmth and the good of his heart has become more evident than ever, and should Deuce not come to see you soon, we will be the ones to present him to you. (A mere jest. If it were Ace, he would find a way to bring you to the earldom.) That is all I can say for now. With your approval, madam, I hope we could become close correspondents. I would love to tell you more about Deuce, Ace, and myself, as well as know more about you yourself. Faithfully yours, 

Ace’s arm wraps against your shoulder just as you’re signing the letter off with your name, loudly talking your ear off about how he just won against Deuce (as expected, he tells you). It’s a tie now, though you know you won’t correct the tally you mentioned in your letter. 

Deuce, meanwhile, chalks it all up to luck, some sleight of hand the earl must have pulled, and swears he’ll beat him tomorrow. You want to tell Deuce to try twice as hard, just so you won’t tell his mother a lie. Instead, you joke that they both need to try harder else you come out as next year’s victor. 

They’re shouting now, mostly about how you’ve finally picked up their competitive spirit, about how you’re challenging them, about how they won’t go easy on you and about how you shouldn’t go easy on them. It’s a whole lot of noise one after another but, unsurprisingly, it fits your very idea of a peaceful day.

“You’re smiling. Is that your way of saying you’re confident you’ll beat us?” You stare at Ace for a moment, wondering if you’ll lie, before shaking your head.

“Not at all. I’m just happy.”

You don’t play it for laughs or take it back, finding comfort in the fact that you can leave the truth just as that. 

“What has made you so softhearted, huh?” You know you’ve got them when Ace can only scratch his neck and Deuce can only cover his ears, perhaps knowing it would match the hue of his liege’s hair. “As long as you're happy, then.”

It’s a rare moment of silence in the estate, and while you know one of the three of you will break it soon enough, you appreciate it while it lasts. You think to yourself, even the quiet can be peaceful, too. Peace is, and yet beyond, the volume of one’s chatter, the clashing of their swords; the quietness of their breaths and the unheard beat of their hearts. 

Beyond sound, peace is a place, a place you have found with them.

end notes | masterlist

[ 1 ] Decided to just leave the details about Reader’s tassel (from Ace) and handkerchief (from Deuce) blank, mostly since I didn’t feel too comfortable assigning something for them.

[ 2 ] As per my research, “In the Regency period (1811 - 1820) it was very expensive to send a letter. The cost of postage could be as much as a day's wages for a working man”. Of course, Deuce and the Reader have Ace to pay for the letter since they’re all sending it together (and I am not going for historical accuracy, lol), but I figured they’d still be conscious to cut to the chase to write as much as possible per sheet of paper.

[mothman-can-write]

heya! i also saw your tag about aro maria and ace natasha. i'm very fascinated about that. what's some of your takes on that dynamic? i've personally leaned towards ace/aspec, but it's always interesting to me when someone who identifies along there but more into sex or adverse to romance. just shows how diverse that spectrum is!

This is such a fun question and I'm going to preface it by saying these HCs are purely based on vibes and my own projection as someone on the aroace spec. I like to play around with their sexualities a lot bc it makes for interesting dynamics, but I'll stick to my thoughts about them being aspec for now haha. I can't promise this will be coherent and make sense but I'll try my best!

This got pretty long, so I'll put the rest of this essay under the cut:

A lot of my opinions of marvel characters are influenced by the comics, especially for Maria since we were given so little of her in the MCU. She has an interesting vibe to her that just... sort of screams being entirely uninterested in anything romantic. She's a very private person anyway, but never expresses interest in wanting romance, but she still wants so desperately to keep those she cares about safe. It's not that she doesn't care, because she does, a WHOLE lot. She just cares about everyone in a very platonic, dutiful way. And yet, somehow, she gives off the biggest lesbian vibes in the world. Therefore, aromantic lesbian. It also somehow just makes sense to me that casual physical relationships would be easier for her to keep as a crucial member of an international secret organisation. Outside of her own team who is she going to date? She goes to a nice bar and she drinks a scotch and she waits for the nearest femme to take her home only to disappear in the middle of the night. Satisfy some urges, and prove to herself that she isn't an evil monster to the naked eye, two birds one stone. There's no real evidence to her having any sexual relationships (that i can think of anyway) but the vibes just sort of work to me, or at least that she would have them. Sometimes i think she's too much of a loser to ever actually go home with anyone. So, in that respect, I can also see her as being aroace too. She just generally has more important things to worry about and isn't necessarily interested in things she deems so personal and unimportant.

I wish I could beam the vibes in my head directly to you because I'm doing a terrible job of explaining them with words, but generally Maria comes off as a very cold character who actually cares very deeply about those around her and that can hit home for a lot of aspec misconceptions and stereotypes. As far as I know, she's never been in a relationship either, which for marvel comics is practically an olympic feat. In one comic she says Natasha is the person she trusts most in the world because shes lonely too, and that shes the only person that scares her. what is that if not lesbianism aspec solidarity

As for Natasha, well we all know what her past is like, and I don't think it's a stretch to say that she might have some trauma around it. But honestly I just like to think she would always be asexual bc it's fun. She's really the character I have less evidence for, but I'm a sucker for the trope of a character who is sexualised by everyone around her actually being a big softy who would rather cuddle. That woman could count on her hands how many times she's been hugged in her life, I think she'd truly get the most out of a relationship where she is shown innocent affection. She's been treated as a physical asset her entire life and I think she deserves to be wined and dined outside of that. Maybe its just me trying to break her free and projecting at the same time but let that woman be the little spoon.

IDK man, she just gives me vibes. She's a cutie. She's a hopeless romantic thrown into a world of people that think she's hot. She's been forced to live up to a role that feels like an act, and is only able to play it so well because none of it has felt real from the start. Sexuality has always been a game, and she's so good at playing because she's always been outside of it. The second someone shows her genuine romance she doesn't know what to do with herself. She likes to give people flowers.

In terms of dynamics together, I don't actually tend to mix them together in this way, I usually pick one or the other because the fic is focussed on them having a functional relationship. I do, however, think Maria would be very accomodating of Natasha if they were in a relationship with this specific dynamic, because as characters they have a very similar need of wanting to be loved for who they are as a person. And to Maria any sexual drive is always going to be second to a real human connection for the first time in her life.

Honestly, the dynamic should be great for angst but I can't find a way to make it work because theyre very similar characters to me. Even if Natasha needs someone to love her whole heartedly for herself, someone to love her innocently outside of her body, Maria is still going to give that to her. It might not be romantically, but she is desperate for human connection anyway. The worst I can think of is that Maria becomes frustrated with the fact that Natasha wants more from her, whilst not being able to tell her the full extent of her own attraction, so theyre both stuck at a bit of a stalemate. Suffering in silence through their friendship because they both want something the other isnt able to give and both of them are too soft hearted to ever force it

I think that's about all that I've got in the tank right now, so I hope that answered some of the curiosities you had! Let me know if you have any more specific questions, because i'm always happy to talk about them :)