#I know this is long but I wanted to get it written down

[sometimesraven]

Also you can not support porn while recognising its legality is important to the lives and safety of not only sex workers but also trafficking and revenge porn victims.

Also also if you think *all* porn is racist misogynistic and paedophillic I'm going to kindly ask you to stop browsing the frontpage of Pornhub bc wym??? Did you forget there are thousands of amateur porn artists who are trans, female, PoC, etc and work completely off their own back? Porn made by queer people for queer people? Porn made by women for women? Porn made by gay men for gay men? It exists in abundance and will continue to do so whether it's legal or not.

Not to mention that things like sending erotic imagery of yourself to your consenting life partner who you are married to also comes under the definition of porn. And where does it stop? Written, drawn or animated media can be porn. Someone taking a lewd or suggestive selfie could be considered porn. We've already seen in the UK that they didn't stop at just banning the production of porn, they then banned specific kinks from even being consumed on the basis of it being "grossly offensive, disgusting, or otherwise of an obscene character". As in, anything the government decided was gross. So that means not just BDSM, but also shit like piss play.

When you allow the illegality of things based on it being "obscene" or "disgusting", that gives the government power to ban literally anything they want as long as they have a good enough argument that it's gross. Like I dunno, homosexuality?

Oh, look at that. Element 3b in the list of "obscene" porn categories:

"An act which results in or is likely to result in serious injury to a person’s anus, breast or genitals"

That means under this particular law (Section 63 of the Criminal Justice and Immigration Act 2008 for those interested) anyone who engages in anal sex could reasonably be prosecuted for it. Which would disproportionately affect gay men and other queer people.

Now fortunately those laws were relaxed in 2019 and as it's down to individual judges what counts, these persecutions largely didn't happen (that we know of). But if porn were outright illegal the public sense of what is and isn't "acceptable" would change. Obviously it would, you want that right?

Except once the patriarchal systems can't blame porn for the high number of rape cases and sexual hate crimes, but the number of cases doesn't reduce or even increases (given that now even consenting women would be persecuted under anti-pornography laws), what would they then turn to?

In the UK we have a habit of banning things outright rather than addressing the root cause of the issues stemming from those things. We see it with, for example, modes of transport we decide are "a nuisance". A new mode of personal transport gets invented (electric bicycles, hoverboards, etc) and incidents happen because of people using them in the street. Instead of realising the infrastructure is lacking and forcing people using these modes of transport to use them on the sidewalk, we banned the use of them on the sidewalk. Since using them on the roads isn't safe, most people stop using them. Then another invention comes around, rinse, repeat.

This is relevant because if porn is illegal it's not going to be tackling the root of issues in the porn industry -- that is: sexism, transphobia, racism and paedophilia. Those are societal issues which, as @absolxguardian aptly pointed out, are present in all media. So naturally as rape and sexual hate crimes doesn't decrease, the UK's previous actions show that they would most likely then turn to the aforementioned "obscene" sexual acts. Which has actually happened to a point -- our assault and sexual violence laws do not recognise consent as a defense. It specifically states that "a person cannot consent to actual bodily harm". Actual Bodily Harm as a legal term in the UK is literally anything that causes pain or discomfort, which has driven most BDSM clubs and practitioners underground.

This was done to protect women against the defense of consent in rape and assault cases, which sounds reasonable until you realise a) adults consent to pain/discomfort literally all the time, it's called tattoos and piercings and fucking gyno. b) literally anyone could mark another person during sex by accident. If someone were assaulting you, might you not claw, bite and punch your way out of it? What happens to you then, if the person who did it claims consent and didn't leave a mark on you? What if you were in an abusive relationship and your partner consented to or even coerced you into marking them during sex? That person then has grounds to press legal charges against you if you try to leave them or otherwise piss them off.

Not to mention that again, this assumes it's "rough sex" that's enabling this kind of defense, and not the judge and jury who decides these people are innocent and the rape culture that emboldens them.

And who is disproportionately affected by this kind of law? I'll give you three guesses.

Anti Sadomasochism and "obscene" sex laws have been tied to homophobia for about as long as they've existed. In the 80s there was a nationwide investigation that led to many gay men being interrogated and persecuted for sadomasochism. Coincidentally (/sarcasm) Section 28 was passed in 1988, and although homosexuality itself was partially "decriminalised", in 1989 consensual gay sex made up a huge percentage of the persecutions under "gross indecency".

All of that to say that finding something gross, or shocking is never grounds to legally censor it.

But maybe you don't care about gay men. Maybe you don't care about BDSM practitioners or other kinksters. You still want to see it all banned.

Imagine, then, a scenario where all of this happens but it's not gay people or BDSM they turn their sights to. Imagine they ban porn for all the "right" reasons. Let's say they, just as you do @progressofthepilgrim, cite misogyny as the main problem with porn and ban it for that reason.

Porn goes away. Misogyny does not. They then turn to the statistics to figure out what else is perpetuating sexual violence because again, they are misogynists pretending to be protecting women, so they will never look at themselves or the society they perpetuate first. They will look for some other perpetrator.

What's to stop them turning to a racial or religious minority? There are already stereotypes that black people are disproportionately violent, what's to stop the government going and raiding their houses and interrogating them about their sex lives the way they did with the gays?

Or, to put this specifically in the lense of your personal interests: what if they turned to the Church? You're pentecostal, I see by your bio, and I know this is a Protestant denomination, so perhaps you believe the Catholic Church should also be banned for its large number of sexual assault and paedophilia cases that never seem to end? For its misogynist and sexist denominations that demand women be subservient?

What, then, if I told you that sexual assault is also prevelant in the Protestant churches? As Protestant churches outnumber Catholic ones, it would be easy for them to cover it up for longer. Do we then ban Protestants too despite y'all being outwardly more progressive? Where does it end? Do you really trust your government or mine to uphold these laws fairly? After everything they've already done to women and minorities?

I'm not telling you to like porn. Or even to support sex workers ideologically. Fuck, I hate most mainstream porn, I agree the mass-produced frontpage stuff is fucking disgusting in any category.

But you have to understand that the outright legal ban of sexual expression cannot ever be a good thing in the society we live in. You can believe porn is inherently evil, whatever, that's your right as a person with opinions. But at some point you have to stop patching up cracks and notice the huge, gaping hole at the top of them. Problematic porn is a small symptom of an enourmous problem and banning it will only give that problem more room to grow. The patriarchal and colonial powers that be want people like us to be focused so much on the easy to hate so they can keep getting away with it themselves. They want you to focus on the fruitflies so that you never have time to throw out the rotten fruit.

Puritanism is getting worse around the globe and conservatives and fascists will absolutely be first going harder against porn, then use that against queer people. You HAVE to realise this and oppose anti porn measures and laws, be in solidarity with sex workers, and listen to them when they call this shit out. It's going to be vitally important.

[eand47]

Troublemaker

ONE SHOT - Portgas D Ace/Reader (female)

DESCRIPTION: Modern AU | High School - smut, fluff, slight angst

SUMMARY: You are known around school as quite the rebellious girl, who makes more of her statements by wearing high knee stockings which are against the school dress code. He is the new guy in school who always sits on the back of the class and every time he puts his glasses on you find it him extremely adorable. The problem is that he doesn't seem to want to socialize with anyone and you don't know how to approach him until one lucky day you get to become his project partner.

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, explicit sexual content, NSFW, mentions of bullying, mentions of cannabis/weed, mentions of violence, mentions of death, lost of a parent, both characters as 19 years old, oral sex (f! receiving), nipple play (f! receiving), slight aggression, use of condom (as you should!!!), hints of depression, old-mindset and views teachers, MDNI

WORD COUNT: 20,5K

✰ masterlist ✰

NOTE: Thank you all for your patience ♡ I hope you enjoy this little modern au story of high school Ace and Reader. I want to point out that I HAVE NEVER EVER BEFORE WRITTEN A SMUT so please keep this in mind once you reach this point of the story. It was my first time so please bear with me as it was cringe and very challenging to write at the same time, but anyway haha. I hope that it is not that bad. Enjoy ♡

another thing to add - this one shot is a special one for my girl @3rtxaa as if it wasn’t for one of her posts of how she images real life Ace, the idea of it would have never been born, ly girly ♡ ♡ ♡

!ALSO PLEASE IF SOMEONE KNOW WHO IS THE ARTIST BEHIND THIS FANART OF ACE IN THE BANNER LET ME KNOW SO I CAN CREDIT THEM!

Autum is just around the corner, and it is time to get back to school. You can’t wait for this school year to finish and be done with high school once and for all. It is not like you have had the worst experiences in the past four years, but you are ready for something new and mostly to leave the pretentious school your parents have signed you in. You are desperate for something new and exciting. Your town isn’t small, quite the opposite, but you still want to move and live somewhere else after you graduate this year.

Parking your car in the parking lot of your school you let out a long sigh. ‘Same faces, same cases’ you thought to yourself. Grabbing your big bag full of text and notebooks, which you must now leave in your locker, from the back seat of your car, you hopped off and shut the door. After locking the car, you start making your way to school. Pulling your skirt down as you feel it raising up, you sigh annoyed once again. You have always hated school uniforms, and how unfair it is that girls must always wear skirts and the boys pants like you are in the 60s. At least the colors of it aren’t so bad – a dark royal blue with a blazer in the same color and a white shirt under it. You are always wearing over the knee stockings under it and not a full set of stockings, which has caused you troubles a few times. Some old-school teachers found this quite inappropriate, and it goes against the school dress code, but this hasn’t stopped you from wearing them again and again.

The school is known for being one of the most prestigious in town. And while you can disagree with how true this is, your parents’ biggest pride is that their daughter gets to study there. Which you never get because they are very laid-back parents who support you and your rebellious nature. You have wanted to move to a different one many times, but you never voiced it as you don’t want to disappoint them. But now it doesn’t matter as all you need to do is push through the next nine months. Taking a step inside the old but well-maintained building you make your way to your locker. Putting the code in the padlock you have, you unlocked it and quickly emptied your heavy bag in it. Before you close it, you pull your phone to check what class you are having first so you can grab the textbook you need.

“Literature.” Someone says behind you. You recognize the voice immediately and turn around.

“Thank you, I would be lost without you.” You reply as you wrap your arms around your best friend Robin. Pulling away from the hug you grab your literature textbook and close your locker as you and Robin start walking towards your class. You have been friends since the beginning of high school, from the first day of school you two click immediately. Since then, you have been unseparated, she is like the sister you have never got to get. This was the first summer where you both didn’t have enough time because of work to hang out every day but it was worth it as now you have enough saved money to spend on whatever your heart desired.

“How are you doing today, excited for the last first day of high school?” She giggles as she sees you expression.

“You better help me get through this year, because if we don’t go to the same university, I’m offing myself.” You joke with her, even though there is a bit of truth in what you say. Even if you both want to study for different programs you have made an agreement that you will still be at the same university. You aren’t one of the most social people to begin with despite your bubbly nature, so being in a totally new environment without your best friend will be like a living hell for you.

“Of course you will get through it, you have me after all.” She smiles and nudges your side as you enter your literature class. There aren’t many people here yet, but your eyes draft to the back of the room. On the last single desk is sitting a guy who you have never seen before. You and Robin take your seats in the middle of the room next to each other. Turning your head back you take another look at the guy over your shoulder. With one hand on the desk and the other on the windowsill with his body leaning on the back of the chair and manspreading his legs he looks quite tall. His dark raven black hair with messy curls falling freely around his frowned face which is turned to the window so you can only observe his side profile. His nose is straight, and his lips are full and somehow so alluring to your attention. Another thing that catches your attention is his freckles which thanks to the lighting you are able to notice even though he is two rows behind you. Turning your head slowly to Robin, who is scrolling on her phone, you nudge her with your elbow.

“Hey, Rob. Who is this guy on the back of the class?” You lean closer to her and whisper so only she can hear you. She raises her head from her phone and looks at the back of the class, squinting her eyes so she can take a better look at the guy.

“No, idea. Maybe he is the new guy. I heard some people from our year talking about having a new classmate.” Robin turns back to you with a shrug.

“I didn’t know we are having a new classmate.”

“Me, too. I found out today when I came, so it must be him.” She says and turns her attention back to her phone. You can’t stop but take another look at him. His position hasn’t changed but the moment you look at him, his eyes move and lock with yours. His stare is pierced, your eyes widen from embarrassment and quickly look away. Even for the ten seconds that you were able to see his face, he was handsome. You can’t remember the last time when a guy has had your interest so quickly by just his looks, but this one seems to have this effect on you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the loud annoying laughter by no other but your least favorite person to exists in this school – Isuka. Rolling your eyes once you see her, you open your notebook and start drawing some doodles just so you don’t need to look at her. Taking her seat right next to you she brushes her ginger hair with the back of her hand and smirks.

“Hey, (Y/N). Robin.” She says and her dumb protégés – Lyla and Nora laugh along with her. You just side-eye her and say nothing. “I missed you, two. Especially you (Y/N), how were working as a lifeguard at the kid’s pool this summer? Did my daddy pay you good?” Isuka made fun of you in her typical arrogant tone with a fake smile on her face.

“He obviously didn’t pay good enough the nannies you had growing up.” You finally look at her and give her the same fake smile she is giving you. You have known Isuka since the start of high school and since day one she picked on you for whatever reason. It isn’t some kind of rivalry, sometimes her comments are pure bullying, but you have never let her affect you. The only time she almost got under your skin was when you caught her with your so-called ex-boyfriend making out by the pool at the graduation’s party a few months ago. You didn’t care so much about him and what he did as much as with whom he did it. But this is in the past now, you are more than glad that you don’t have to deal with this guy anymore, but still every time you think of it your blood boils only because of the disrespect this guy has caused you.

“Hm, be careful there, do I need to remind you who Derek choose?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she tries to irritate you more. Instead, you laugh out loud – does she really think that a guy like Derek is the prize?

“Isuka, if you think a guy like Derek is the goal, then I really pity you from the bottom of my heart.” You coo with face sympathy for her which leaves her mouth open. Robin starts giggling next to you. Isuka frowns with her eyebrows ready to say something, but the teacher comes in and the whole class goes silent. You haven’t noticed that everyone has arrived until now.

“You got her good this time.” Robin leans closer to you and whispers.

“I’m so sick and tired of this spoiled bitch.” You whine quietly only for Robin to hear you. She only nods with her head as the teacher starts to speak.

“As you all are aware, this year is the most important for you all, especially given the fact that one of your major exams is on English and literature. If I haven’t been strict enough with you till now, then this year will be totally different.” You can’t stop yourself from snorting and whispering to Robin while the teacher continues with her ‘welcome back’ speech.

“Yeah, it’s not like she has ever been nice to us at least once. Old wanna be Barbie.” Both you and Robin shared a quite laugher, but it is quickly interrupted by your teacher.

“Did I say something funny Miss (Y/L/N)?” The sixty something woman, with long thin blond hair and badly done makeup for her age looks stern at you as she waits for your response. “Care to share with the class?”

“I think I will keep this one for myself, Mrs. Kenet.” You half shrug with one shoulder while giving her a smile. The teacher only gives you a warning look before continuing.

“I don’t want to waste more time in meaningless talks so before we start, please the new student, stand up and introduce yourself.” Mrs. Kenet gestures to the guy in the back to stand and introduce himself with her face unpleased as always. Everyone turns their heads to the black-haired guy waiting for him to stand up. You are carefully observing him as he clears his throat and stands up.

“My name is Ace and I’m the new student, obviously.” His voice is low and raspy but still deep. Now as he stands up you are able to take a better look at him – his shirt isn’t properly tuck in his pants as the school demands and its sleeves are rolled which is another thing some teachers might complain about. Also, the tie that the guys are demanded to wear tightly around their necks is very loose which is going to cause him to receive a comment from our teacher immediately as she is one of the demanding ones. You move your eyes to where your teacher is standing, and you can see her already frowning over her book with all the students’ names in it.

“Mr. Portgas haven’t you read the schools guidebook about the dress code?” She asks as she shoots him with a very judgmental look.

“I did.” Ace replies, putting his hands in his pockets and shrugging as he doesn’t see the problem with his outfit. In his eyes he has done everything as it says in the stupid seventy-page school guidelines book he received two weeks ago, and his mom made sure he reads it. He is wearing the stupid school uniform and the suffocating tie around his neck, what more this old hag wants from him.

“I will ask once Mr. Portgas – tuck your shirt, roll down your sleeves and fix your tie.” Mrs. Kenet straitens her posture and crosses her arms over her chest as she starts taping with her finger on her forearm waiting for Ace to do what he is told. He bites the insides of his cheeks and clenches his jaw as he tries to not cause himself problems from the first day and the first class in the new school. After all he has promised his mother that he would behave… as much as he can. Rolling his sleeves down and tucking the front of the shirt in his pants he keeps his eyes on the old hag which is now on his list with teachers he will not stand. Fixing the tie last, he gives her a ‘are you happy now’ look to which Mrs. Kenet nods and lets him sit back down. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at her, Ace unintentionally looks at you and your eyes lock once again. Why are you staring at him again? Does he have something on his face?

He overheard your interaction with the bratty girl earlier and thought it was funny. Though, he can’t help but notice that you are somewhat troublemaker yourself. The interaction with the bratty girl and then the teacher, you are not one of the amenable ones. On top of it, you checking him out doesn’t go unnoticed either. But Ace is planning to stay out of trouble this year, mainly because he has promised his mother, who had to move to entirely new city just because her son got expelled from his previous school for bad behavior. Still, he can’t move his eyes from (Y/N), if he catches your name correctly. As last time, you are the one who breaks the eye contact first and turns your attention to whatever the teacher is talking about. His eyes stay on you a little longer and draft lower on your body. White knee stockings with a little bow on the side – this isn’t very ‘dress code’ friendly, you should definitely get scold for this. ‘Troublemaker’ he thinks to himself as he opens his notebook and starts writing whatever Mrs. Kenet is writing on the board.

Squinting his eyes to see better, Ace sighs as it is pointless to do so, so he pulls his glasses case from his backpack and places them on the bridge of his nose. He hates them but lenses irritate his eyes way too much, so he must suffer with the glasses. The class finishes in forty minutes so the moment the bell rings Ace is one of the first students to get up and leave. You are getting up from your chair when you feel someone bumping into you accidentally.

“Shit, sorry.” The deep low voice behind you says. You don’t have much time to react as Ace, if you remember correctly his name, is already leaving the room. You follow him with your eyes as he leaves the room – he is definitely something, but what exactly you can’t pinpoint yet. But he is cute, especially with glasses on. He doesn’t give off the nerd vibe but there is this thing about him that tells you he is the type which prefers to be by themselves.

“Easy there.” You hear a mocking voice behind you. You turn around to meet with Isuka’s insolent smile. “I saw you eyeing the new guy, but if you think you have a chance with a guy like him, I really pity you from the bottom of my heart.” She repeats the exact same words you’ve told her earlier. Instead of giving her the satisfaction of offending you in any type of way, you just eye her from the top to bottom and snort out laughter. This causes her to stomp with her foot on the floor like a toddler. You and Robin are grabbing your stuffs to leave the room when Isuka’s annoying voice fills up the space. “Mrs. Kenet, (Y/N) is wearing again unappropriated stockings to school.” Isuka points her finger at you. Mrs. Kenet’s voice echoes through the room as she calls out your name.

“Miss (Y/L/N), how many times you must be told that these revealing cloths are prohibited in school.” Her whole face frowns and gets red from anger. “Don’t you have any dignity for yourself, after all this is a prestige school not some strip club.” She screams in your face. You glance at Isuka who is passing by you with her entourage while giving you dirty looks. “Listen, when I’m talking to you Miss (Y/L/N).”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kenet, but in my defense, they are quite high and not revealing.” It is pointless to even try to defend yourself, as Mrs. Kenet won’t take your word for anything as she doesn’t like you in general; not only because you never listen and continue to wear your high knee stockings but because you always have something to say in your defense.

“I think you are begging for detention from the first day Miss (Y/L/N).” You are about to protest against her words when you feel Robin tugging you on the arm. Turning your head to her you see the way she is begging you to not get in trouble from the first day, so you just sigh. Lowering your head you murmured under your breath an apology. “I didn’t hear you Miss.”

“I said, I’m sorry and that I will go and change my stockings.”

“If I see you around the corridors today and you are still with these you will be staying after classes, you understand.” Her voice was stern and cold as aways.

“Yes, Mrs. Kenet I understand.” You reply and she lets you and Robin finally go as the bell for your next class rings. Walking as fast as possible, so you are not late for your next class, you are fuming. “This bitch Isuka if she didn’t say shit the old hag wasn’t going to notice anything.”

“I know, but also aren’t you tired of getting detentions for the same thing over and over again?” Robin is keeping your tempo as the biology classroom is on the other wing of the big school building so you two must cross almost half the school to reach it.

“Which side are you on?” You look at her with disbelief even though you know she has a point.

“Of course, yours. But getting detention every time about the same thing should ring some bell in your mind.” She giggles next to you as you make your way to the classroom. Walking in the room just a second before the second bell goes off to indicate that the class starts, the only desk available for you and Robin to take is the one in the front row. Both of you groan as you hate sitting in the front row, but you have no choice as your teacher walks into class and tells you to sit down. Before you sit down you see Isuka sitting next to the new guy, who seems pretty uninterested in the surroundings around him.

Ace notices you, looking in his direction before you sit down at your desk. He also notices the way your face grimaces when you and your friend realize you have to take the front row desk, but he does understand your reaction as he will never be caught sitting in any other row but the last. Ace is the loner guy in school as he never finds anyone interesting enough to hang around with in school. All the friends he has are either from his basketball club or friends he has from his childhood; with classmates he never gets along with, so after ninth grade he has stopped even trying to befriend anyone from his school. Now on top of it, as an even bigger punishment his mom has made him go to this snobby school, which if it isn’t for his high grades Ace would never have been accepted, especially with his record of bad behavior on school grounds. But they did and now he is stuck here. On top of it the bratty annoying girl sat down with him without even bothering to ask if she could or not. But it doesn’t matter now it is not like he is paying her any attention no matter how hard she tries, all her questions are either met with a hum or a nod from him. She should get the hint.

****

Before you know it the first last day of high school is finished and you and Robin made your way to your car. The weather is still nice and warm outside even with the typical Autum breeze.

“Any plans for tonight?” You ask Robin once you both enter your car. She shakes her head and yawns.

“No, I’m actually extremely tired I just want to go home and sleep until tomorrow morning.” She says while putting on her seatbelt on. You do the same as her before you start the car and drive to her home. “By the way, Isuka wasn’t the only one who noticed you checking out the new guy.” Robin’s playful voice gets you flushing as you try biting on your lips to stop the smile that is slowly growing on your face. “Oh, are you crushing on him?” Her voice rises a bit as she sees how you are trying your best to hide your smile.

“No, no Rob, nothing like this.” You shake your head with your eyes focusing on the road. “He is cute, but crushing is too much, I just saw him today and we haven’t even talked yet.”

“Yes, he is kind of cute.” Robin agrees with you, but you throw her a quick surprised glance.

“Kind of? He is super cute, especially when he put those glasses on.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a thing for nerds.” Your friend is quick to tease you.

“I doubt that he is a nerd, an outsider yes, but a nerd no.” You respond while parking in front of Robin’s house, she lives very close to school, so it usually takes no more than fifteen minutes’ drive or even less if there is no traffic.

“How did you come with the conclusion that he is an outsider?” Robin asks with surprise in her eyes as she barely paid any attention to the guy today.

“He didn’t spoke or try to interact with anyone today, and at the same time he didn’t seem to be the shy nervous type, you know?” You tell your observations of the guy to your friend, and she is more than impressed, this is not a typical behavior from you.

“Girl, when did you manage to observe this much of the guy?” Robin turns on her seat and waits for your response as she can’t believe what she is hearing.

“Oh, come on. I’m just very observative.” You try to brush it off, but Robin is not buying it.

“Sure, whatever you say.” She smirks and opens the door hopping off the car. “You know, now I’m quite interested in where this last year of high school will lead us.” Your friend raises playfully her eyebrows, and you laugh at her.

“Robin, I said he is cute, not that I’m interested in him.”

“Yet. Plus, I didn’t say anything about the guy, but you just did.” She winks at you as she closes the door without giving you the chance to response.

********

“Ma, I’m home.” Ace screams once he enters his home. Taking his shoes and jacket off he walks into the new apartment his mom rented when they moved to the new city. Ace hasn’t gotten used to the place yet, but it was because of him and his behavior as to why they had to move in first place.

“I’m in the kitchen, honey.” His mom calls for him from the kitchen which is also where they are having their dining aera as well. Entering the room Ace spots his mother next to the kitchen counter chopping some vegetables as something is boiling in the pot on the stove. When she sees her son entering the room her smile grows. “How was the first day? Please tell me you made some friends.” She looks at her son with pleading eyes as she knows how close off Ace likes to be and how he barely let anyone get close to him. “Also -” She points with the knife in her hands towards her cheek, indicating to her son to give her a kiss. Ace rolls his eyes but gives his mom a little peck on the cheek. “Now tell me about school.” His mom, Rouge encourages him. She is one of those people who is always with a smile on their face, her whole existence is screaming warmth and calmness. But this smile can easily go away the moment she enters ‘mama bear’ mode or when Ace really… really pisses her of which in the past two years since his father died, he has been doing more frequently than he intended to.

Taking a seat in one of the highchairs on the other side of the kitchen counter Ace just grunts with a shrug of his shoulders. Nothing interesting happened today. All he wants is for these nine months to go by as quickly as possible. Rouge snaps her fingers in front of her son’s face taking him out of his trance.  

“Nothing interesting mom. School, what else to say.” He grabs one of the uncut chili peppers and takes a bite of it.

“Oh, Ace. Come on, it’s a new school. Did you not meet anyone interesting? How are the teachers? Something.” His mom nags him. Sometimes she misses her son’s bright side. Not like Ace was very open with people when his dad was alive, but he was always energetic around his parents. Rouge knows how much his dad’s death affects her son, but she prays every day and night for the day when her boy will be back to his old bubbly self at least around her and his closes friends and family. Nowadays the best she is getting is five to six sentences from him and the rest is grunts and hums.

“Well, there is this old hag literature teacher that is pain in the ass, but other than this nothing, mom.” He grabs another chili pepper as they are his favorite. “What are you making tonight?”

“Chili beans and ground beef. And before you say anything I did buy with only ten percent fat, okay. I don’t want another lecture on proteins and fats.” She points with the knife in her hand at him warningly and jokingly. Ace snots out a laugh and shakes his head, reaching for another chili pepper but his mom slaps his hand away. “Stop, there will be nothing left if you continue eating them like apples. Now, tell me more about school, come on. Okay one bad teacher, you will survive her. How about the classmates?” She asks as she takes the cutting board with the veggies and walks to the stove where the pot is, adding them to it. Ace starts playing with his fingers as he props his elbows on the counter and thinks for a second about his classmates. The guys are mostly rich spoiled brats, and the girls are no different. Well, one catches his interest, but he doesn’t plan to share this part with his mom at all.

“Rich spoiled kids, ma. Is there anything more to be said?” He raises his brow at his mom who rolls her eyes at him.

“Stop acting like you are some poor ghetto guy.” Her late husband has made sure that there is enough for both her and their son to have a good and stable future before he passes away. They aren’t the richest out there, but with what Roger has left, just her job alone covers all their bills and needs, so all the money will go for Ace’s education in university.

“I’m not mom. I’m just stating the facts.” Seeing that his mom is in a good mood Ace decides to test his luck. “By the way… it would be very nice if I can have my car keys back… you know as it would be way easier to go to school.” His mom’s laughter fills up the space once she hears her son’s lame attempt to get his car back. After getting expelled from his old high school, Rouge has taken away his car keys as she knew that this would make her son behave at least until he gets them back.

“I told you, depends how you behave you might have them back in six months.” She leans with her hands on the countertop and smiles at her son. As much as he looks like her, he has his dad’s dark eyes and hair which make him the perfect mixture of them both. “But good try Ace, you still have like what four or three months left… if you behave.” Rouge reaches with her hand and ruffles Ace’s dark messy curls. Ace pulls his head away from his mother’s hand and gets up from the chair.

“When is this going to be done?” He points with his eyes towards the pot on the stove.

“Max an hour, I think.” The only response Rouge receives is a grunt from her son before he makes his way to his room. “Oh, Ace… what am I going to do with you?” It pains her heart to see him like this, but his destructive behavior needs to get under control.

Rogue still remembers the phone call from the police station she received one Tuesday afternoon. Not only had her son got into another fight on the school property but on top of it he had broken some classmate of his arm. But that wasn’t the reason Ace was locked up by the police. He was also high on weed at school, and when someone from his class called the police on him, they found two blunts in his wallet, so he got cuffed immediately. On top of it, the family of the kid wanted to start a case against Ace, but with a lot of pleading from Rouge side, she managed to convinced them not to open the case. Instead, Rouge paid for the kid’s expenses during his recovery. And with a lot of connections and Roger’s best friend, Reyleigh – Rogue succeeded to safe her son’s criminal and school record, but she wasn’t planning on letting him go easy from this situation.

The whole summer Ace was working on two jobs so he could pay back his mom’s expenses on lawyers, the medical bills on the guy’s arm he broke, and he had to go to evening classes every Monday and Thursday so he could graduate eleventh grade. Not only this, but every month since then, Rouge has been making Ace take a drug test. If she finds out one more time that he is taking anything drug related he will be out of the house even if it would hurt her more than him. She doesn’t want to see her son destroying his future.

Entering his room and closing the door behind him Ace starts to take off the annoying school uniform. Changing to more comfortable clothes he lays on his bed and just stares at the ceiling. He misses his old town and friends. Even there he hasn’t been the most social person, especially in school, but still he had his friends, while here he has none. He has his mom, but it is not the same. And this new pretentious school is killing him, and it only has been a day since he has started. But he will have to push it through, after all he doesn’t want to see his mom’s disappointed face ever again. He might be everything else, but Ace isn’t stupid, he knows that his behavior is not only hurting him but his mother too. Because of this he must fix his ways of living not only for his sake, but also for the sake of the people who care for him.

Without realizing it, his mind drifts to you – the girl with the white knee length stockings. He can’t deny that he finds you attractive, but he isn’t planning on messing around with any girls any time soon and especially one from his class. You are some kind of a rebel because all day he hasn’t seen another girl with knee stockings like yours, all the other girls are wearing normal ones that cover every inch of their legs. It is either this or you are desperate for male attention, but something is telling him that you aren’t the type to care who gives you attention and who doesn’t. But his first impression of you is clear – ‘troublemaker’ and he doesn’t need troubles right now.

After some time scrolling on his phone Ace hears his mom calling from the kitchen. He gets up and goes to see what the fuzz is about.

“What, ma?” He asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Please, put the plates on the table. The meal is done, it just needs to chill down a bit and I need to make a phone call.” She washes her hands and dries them on the towel hung on the kitchen cabinet under the sink. Ace just nods and starts preparing the table for him and his mom.

********

It has been almost two months since school has started again and it is killing you. All you want is to be done with this particular school, but just seven more months left. The subjects feel harder this year than the last and you usually don’t have any problem studying but this year is taking a tool on you, and you have barely started. Walking into biology class early in the morning knowing that Robin is sick at home today isn’t very pleasant. She always lets you know earlier when she is not coming to school due to sickness or whatever reason as she knows how much you hate being in classes without her. But today you decide to go anyway, as you have biology, literature and PE, which means you are having three classes with Ace, which means that today might not be so bad even without Robin next to you.

Your little attraction from day one turned into full crush almost a month ago. Which is funny because you and Ace have never spoken, but you can’t help but feel attracted to him. To be honest, Ace doesn’t speak with anyone, his voice can only be heard if the teachers ask him something or if they have something to tell him about the way his uniform is not worn right. The only thing that you are aware of so far that you have in common with him.

Walking into the room most of your classmates are already there. Scanning the room your eyes land on Ace. As always, he has his headphones on while having his hands on the desk, with one elbow raise and his head prop on the palm of his hand. Taking a deep breath in you start walking towards the desk in the middle of the middle row and sit there. With Robin being gone for the day, you are going to be sitting alone so you put your bag on the chair next to you. Taking your notebook and pen out you start fidgeting with the pen between your fingers waiting for your teacher to come.

Slightly turning your head to the side, you glance at Ace. His messy hair falling freely around his face as always and his glasses already placed on his face, he looks adorable. Yes, your crush so far is based only on his lucks, but the rare times you have heard him talk, he is smart and yes, he is also cocky, but not like the rest of the boys in your class. There is some kind of a charm in his cockiness. Just before he turns his head in your direction you look away quickly.

His lips twitch for a second as he has caught you staring at him again. Ace is used at this point with your staring. It even starts making him wonder if you have a crush on him or something. You are not very easy to read so Ace isn’t sure a hundred percent if he is right about it or not. Slowly he runs his eyes down on your body and licks his lower lip. You are quite bold today, not only are you with knee-length stockings again, but on top of it they are dark red mesh material, so he is able to take a very good look at your legs. Are you aware of what these things are doing to still teenage boys… to him?

Just when his imagination is about to start working on the things he wants to do in between your thighs while you wear these red stockings, he hears the most annoying voice to exist, even over his headphones being on max volume.

“Morning Ace, it’s always so nice to spend biology with you.” Isuka’s voice rings in his ear as annoying as his first alarm in the morning. Ace doesn’t even bother to look at her. Since the first day at school, she has been sitting with him every biology class. He has tried many things: putting his bag on the chair where she is supposed to sit hoping she gets the hint that she isn’t welcome sitting with him, then sitting at another desk just so leaves him alone but still no success. One time he made sure to be the first one in class just so he could hide the fucking chair but sadly someone got sick that day, so she sat with him again. Thankfully it is only biology he has to sit with her. The teacher finally walks in, and the class is starting so Ace takes off his headphones and puts them back in his backpack.

“Students.” Mr. Bellman clapped with his hands as a warm smile is placed on his face as aways. He is one of the few, to not say only teacher in this school that is actually nice and understanding towards his students. “Before the Christmas break next month you all will be divided into pairs and do a project together.”

“Are we paired with whoever we want or you are going to pair us?” Ask a classmate of yours.

“Thank you for the question, Mr. Dawson. In fact, I have written all your names on a piece of paper and put them in a bowl.” He pulls out two glass bowls filled with small pieces of paper. “Those of you sitting on the left will be the one picking a note with the names of your partner and on those of you sitting on the right will be picking from the bowl with the topic of your projects.” After he explains you groan and quickly move to sit on the left side. You don’t care what topic you will get if you will be lucky enough to get Robin’s name out of the bowl. “Everyone understands? Okay, perfect. I will come to you now first with the names.”

Your turn finally comes, and Robin’s name hasn’t been picked yet so hopefully you will get her. With a warm smile Mr. Bellman encourages you to pick a piece of paper, and you do. You start laughing as you unwrap it and see your own name written on it.

“Well, Mr. Bellman I guess I’m either doing it by myself or I can choose with whom to work with.” You joke with him to which he laughs but shakes his head.

“I know you are hoping to pick Miss Nico as your partner Miss (Y/L/N), but with risk for you to hate me, please take another note.” You click with your tongue when your teacher tells you this. Mr. Bellman has gotten to know you very well over the span of the four years he has been your teacher, and he knows that you and Robin always go as a pair. Putting your hand once again in the bowl you drag another piece of paper. Unwrapping the small piece of paper your heart skips a beat once you read the name. “Mr. Portgas D Ace, how nice.” The teacher announces loudly as he looks at Ace’s direction.

Hearing his name being called Ace raises his head from his notebook. He looks at where Mr. Bellman is standing, and he is right next to you. ‘Nice’ Ace thinks to himself. You aren’t a bad option for a project partner especially when it comes to biology, you are pretty good from what Ace has seen of you so far in class. He only nods with his head as the teacher wrote you down as partners.

You on the other hand don’t know how to process the fact that you will be working with Ace for the next one month. You know he is smart and surprisingly he is one of the top students in class, but even if he isn’t the smartest it wouldn’t have mattered as this isn’t why you are concerned. It is the fact that you have a stupid little crush on him and spending time with him outside school might cause your stupid little crush to grow. Your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Bellman’s voice.

“Okay, everyone has a partner, right? Now is time to pick your topics, now remember those on the right are picking them.”

Going around the room again Mr. Bellman skips you this time as it is Ace turn to pick your topic as he is sitting on the right side of the desk. Reaching with his hand Ace picks a piece of paper and unwraps it. Clearing his throat before he speaks, he looks at you.

“Causes of Narcolepsy and Insomnia.” He says with his deep raspy voice. In response you nod as you have turned to face him when he was picking it. Turning back around you write it down on your notebook, so you don’t forget. Before you have turned around you see the nasty look Isuka is giving you, but you pay her no attention. You are aware of her own crush for Ace, but it is obvious that it isn’t mutual.

After everyone get their topics, Mr. Bellman starts to explain how the project can be made and as long as it is submitted by the second week of December it should be fine for everyone. The class finishes on time and everyone starts to gather their stuffs. It takes you a moment to start putting your stuffs back as now you must speak to Ace no matter what. But by the time you turn around to see if he is still in the classroom he is nowhere to be found. With a sigh you get up and start making your way to your locker to grab your physics textbook and then make your way to the classroom. You won’t be seeing Ace until after lunch when you have your literature class and then PE, which means you have enough time to think of how to approach him. Or he might approach you, after all it is not only your project.

****

Lunch break comes and you made your way fast to your locker again. Deciding to skip on lunch today you grab your literature books and head straight to the classroom. You are the first one there as everyone is out for lunch now. Taking your usual seat in the middle row you pull out your phone and start texting Robin.

‘Rob.... I have a good and bad news...’

‘If it is about the biology project I already know as Nora has already texted me about it... so I suppose this is the bad news... now tell me the good’ She is quick with her reply. Not only this but you just realise that you have totally forgotten to pay attention to who got Robin’s name. Poor Robin, she must work with one of Isuka’s annoying friends for the project.

‘Girl I’m so sorry... yeah about the good news... guess who is my project partner :3’

‘No way :O ... is it Portgas?’ Of course, Robin gets it right from the first guess. You happily squeak and tap with your feet excitedly on the floor.

‘YES ROB IT IS HIM IN FACT CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?’

‘If I knew that the only day of me missing school would lead to this I would have gotten sick earlier xD have you two spoken about it?’

‘Not yet, but I have the next two classes with him as you know... so I plan to speak with him about it.’ You have already come with a plan, and it is super simple – he walks into the room, sits on his desk and you go speak with him, how hard it would be?

Well, it appears to be harder than you have expectedas he is late for class, but he comes eventually. After being scold from Mrs. Kenets he goes and sit on his usual spot – the last desk next to the window. After the class is done you miss your chance again as he is the first one to leave. But it is okay, you still have PE together you can speak with him then.

You aren’t very surprised when you can’t catch him to speak with during PE, too. It is the only class where he kind of interacts with people and it is the guys who he interacts with only when they play basketball. He plays very well, you have observed him many times, but you are not surprised after all he is tall, and he obviously works out, so this only adds to his looks. You even have a theory that he might be practicing basketball outside school, but you are not a hundred percent sure about this. You on the other hand try to join the girls and some of the guys who are playing volleyball, but it gets boring quickly.

Now you are just sitting on the benches, with your elbows on your knees and your head prop the palms of your hands, observing Ace and waiting for the perfect moment to speak with him about your project.

“Staring to much aren’t we?” Taking a deep breath in, you side-glanced the person who just sits next to you.

“What do you want Isuka?” You turn your head to the side to look at her with blank stare.

“I want to change partners for the project.” She crosses her arms across her chest and her tone from mocking turns to demanding. A makeshift puff of laugher escapes your lips as you look at her in disbelief.

“You heard Mr. Bellman we can’t do this, and I won’t do this for you especially.” It is not because Ace is your project partner, it actually doesn’t matter who it would have been, you will never do a favour for Isuka. Ever.

“You can have your friend Robin, and I get Ace what a better deal than this?” She continues to nag.

 “You are not even the one paired with her, the fuck is you on about? And I told you I’m not changing partners for your pleasure especially.” You turn your head back to where the boys are playing basketball.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” Isuka hisses and pulls you by the hand causing you to look at her.

“Touch me one more time and I will sweep the floor with your hair.” You snap at her as you stand up. Verbally she can say whatever you never really care, but this right now is crossing any lines.

“Calm down loser you don’t want to get in trouble.” She also gets up and now you are on the same level facing each other. “Ace also wants to change so we can be together.”

“Do you even believe yourself when you said this out loud?” You snort and turn around to walk away. You can hear Isuka walking after you, but you chose to ignore her.

Passing by the guys playing basketball you don’t see Isuka going to one of them – Jack, the popular rich and extremely arrogant jerk in school. She whispers something in his ear and his arrogant laugher fills up the space. The guys have stopped the game as he is the one holding the ball and waiting for him to get back to it. Ace is standing with arms crossed across his chest while carefully observing the scene just a few steps away from them.

He saw you passing by a little annoyed by Isuka, who was following after you. Her bullying, if he can call it this, towards you haven’t been unnoticed by him, but it is always her put back on her place by you. Maybe this is the case again. But it isn’t. Just as Jack is raising his hand ready to aim at you, with his arrogant smile on while his face is turned to Isuka’s, it takes Ace three stapes to get to Jack and take the ball away from his hands.

“The fuck man?” Jack turns to him with disbelief in his eyes. “I was just about to have some fun.” He came closer to Ace bumping his chest with his, to which Ace snorts as he puts the ball between them keeping Jack’s body away from his. They are almost the same high, but Ace is still slightly taller than him.

“Since when hitting girls is considered fun Jack?” Ace raises one brow at him waiting for his response.

“Didn’t know you can talk this much Portgas?” Jack mockingly says to which Ace only replies with an arrogant smirk. After all Jack isn’t the only one who thinks he can act all cocky and mighty.

“I usually don’t waste my time speaking with people like you.” This struck a nerve in Jack as he hears Ace says this and goes to pinch him, but Ace is quick to dodge it. The teacher is quick to see what is going on and runs to the boys screaming at them. Taking a step back Ace laughs at Jack’s face. “Try faster next time, Jack.” With that he ignores the teacher who is trying to scold the boys but none of them is listening to them. Before heading to the changing rooms Ace gives Isuka a disgraceful look. It is clear to Ace that she has talked Jack into doing this, which is very low even for her.

You on the other hand have missed the entire show. Now as you have changed back to your school uniform and adjusting the straps holding your red stockings you curse yourself as you accidently made a hole on the side of the left stocking. Remembering that you have a clear nail polish in your locker you grab your bag and leave the changing rooms.

Standing in front of your locker and opening it you also put back some of the notebooks and textbooks you are carrying with yourself during the day. Most of the students are already leaving as the last bell of the day has rung like five minutes ago. As you are about to close your locker you haven’t paid attention to your surrounding, someone has leaned on by the lockers next to you, so when you hear their voice, you get startled.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. (Y/N), right?” Turning around you are met with no other but Ace. With your eyes widen you swallow hard as you nod. “So, we are project partners now.” He says and you nod again.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, I was trying to get a hold of you the whole day.” You chuckle and try to straiten your posture. You open and close your mouth as you aren’t sure exactly what to say and Ace isn’t very helpful as he doesn’t say much himself. “Like... you know... I was wondering things like when should we start, where should we meet... you know ha-ha... project things.” You grab on your left elbow with your right hand as you try very hard to hide the fact how nervous you are around him.

Putting his hands in his pockets Ace can see how nervous you got out of nowhere. He swears this isn’t the same confident girl he has observed around school. But then again, he has seen you only with your black-haired friend which he always forgets the name of. Maybe you are only confident and bubbly only around people you know and that is why you only hang up with her.

“Which day after school works with you? The sooner we start the better.” Ace says and you nod agreeing with him.

“Any day works with me honestly.” You give him a small smile and wait for his response as he seems to think about when it will be best for him.

“How about Friday?”

“Sure, Friday works fine with me as well. Should we go to the library?”

“Yea, the library is fine. Then see you on Friday.” With this he pushes himself of the lockers and walks away. He isn’t arrogant, but he isn’t very friendly as well, so you are starting to worry how smoothly this project will go. But now that you have seen him up so close, you are totally sweep off your feet. This boy is unbelievably handsome.

‘Please, don’t have a girlfriend.’ You think to yourself, a thought that has crossed your mind million of times now. You have tried everything, but you can’t find him on any social media and as he doesn’t speak to anyone in school you have no idea if Ace is single or not. All you can do is prey that he is single, because boy your heart will be broken if he is taken and extremely jealous of his girlfriend.

*****

Friday comes fast and before you know it you are done with your classes for the day. You will be lying if you say that you are not nervous and excited at the same time now that you are about to spend the next few hours working with Ace on the project. On the other hand, Robin hasn’t stopped messing with you today as you have put extra effort in the way you look today. With your makeup and hair done nicely and your uniform being precisely ironed like never before, paired with dark blue knee stockings matching your uniform you looked gorgeous today. Even Robin herself commented how you will make him crush on you a hundred percent after your study session.

“Okay, how do I look? How do I smell?” You have dragged your best friend in the bathroom with you as you want to make sure that you are a hundred percent looking your best.

“Oh my God, (Y/N). Calm down, he is just a guy.” Robin is still in disbelief in the way you are acting when it comes to Ace. Sure, he is cute, even if he isn’t her type she doesn’t deny that the guy is good looking, but you have never been like this over a guy before.

“I know, I know.” You say in a desperate tone. Yes, you are super attracted to him and his looks but expect from this you don’t know anything about him, and you are hoping that with this project you will be able to get to know him. “I... I just want to... how to say it Rob... if he finds me somehow attractive then, of course only if he is single, maybe he might be up for a date or something.” Lowering your head and looking at your sneakers you feel Robin wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a hug.

“(Y/N), if this guy is not on his knees for you after today, then he needs to change his glasses.” You both laugh as you pull away from the hug. “Okay now show me which lip glosses you have taken with you?” You eagerly pull out the two lip glosses you have taken with you in the morning as you can’t decide which one will look better. Taking a good look at them, Robin points with her finger to the cherry coloured one. “I think this will make your lips pop more.”

“Thank you. I was also thinking of the cherry one.” You put the other one back in your bag and start applying the cherry one on your lips. Smacking your lips once you are done you turn to Robin. “What do you think?”

“I think that I’m jealous of Portgas.” Hearing her comment you burst of laughing.

 “Uh, I love you, Robin. You are the best friend I could have ever ask for.” You pull her for another hug, but she taps you on the shoulders to let go.

“Come on, he is probably waiting for you. And don’t forget to call me once you are done.”

****

Ace has been sitting on one of the old desks in the library for the past fifteen minutes now. He should have asked for your number. What if you can’t make it today? He has seen you around school earlier today, but still. Or what if you are here but can’t find him? He is definitely getting your number today. Not for any other reason, just so he can have some kind of contact with you while you do the project together.

“Hey, sorry for being late.” His eyes immediately shot at you as you stand on the side of the desk next to him. You smile at him as you pull the chair to sit. “Don’t tell me you have been waiting for me for a long time?” Your eyes are filled with guild and Ace is just staring.

‘Shit, she looks even prettier today.’ He can’t help but think to himself. Ace can’t deny that he has found you attractive since day one, but he hasn’t been in a relationship ever. Which is strange that the thoughts of relationship are crossing his mind since he doesn’t want one. He does have his fair share with girls from time to time but nothing more. Not only this but whatever you have put on your lips today are making them even more plump and desirable. If he can just pull you closer and kiss you right now he would. Calling him out by his name you take him out of his trance.

“Sorry? What were you saying?” He clears his throat as his voice comes out a little bit raspier then usual.

“I asked if you waited for me for too long?” You let a small giggle at his confused expression. To your surprise Ace let out a little chuckle himself. This is the first time ever you hear any form of laugher from him and you swear something bloomed in your stomach.

“Nah, I didn’t. Actually, you need to give me your number, so we have some kind of communication through out the project.” Your eagerly nod as you see him pulling his phone and handing it to you so you can put your number in. You quickly type it with your name as well and give back the phone to him. “Nice, thanks.” He says and puts the phone back in his back pocket.

“How do we start now? I see you have taken some books already.” You reach and take one of the books and observe it. It is about neurobiology, which your topic for ‘Causes of Narcolepsy and Insomnia’ is based on.

“Yea, well we can do bigger research on insomnia as I have a narcolepsy myself so you can leave all that part to me.” He runs his hand on the nape of his neck a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, no please. I want the work to be equal for both of us.” You are quick to protest and surprise to hear that he has narcolepsy himself, he hasn’t showed any signs in school, but again from sharing just three classes together you don’t know much about him. “Also, I didn’t know you have narcolepsy. I know it is not easy living with one as my little cousin also has it.” You smile at him as you understand a bit how he must feel dealing with this on the daily basis.

Raising his brows in surprise as he hasn’t met anyone so far in his life who has it or have a person close to them struggling with it, Ace is a little taken aback and not sure how to response to this.

“Ya, it does sucks sometimes.” Is all he manages to response with. “In that case should we get to work?” With a nod from you, you both start to discuss how you can manage your project and the topics for it.

Time goes by fast and before you know it, it has already been two hours. During those two hours it is mostly you who breaks the silence with suggesting ideas or double checking with him if you should include a certain information in. Deciding to take a quick break from gathering information and writing it down, you decide to be bold and ask him more personal questions in the meantime, if you can call them this, so you can get to know him a little.

“So, um Ace...” You start unsure if he wants to talk or not, but when he hums and looks at you in response so you take this as a yes – he might be up for a small talk after all. “What made you choose this school?”

Unsure how to response to this question without mentioning that he has been expelled from his previous high school he gives you the most logical answer ever.

“My mom, you?” Short and clear as ever, but at least he asks you as well.

“My parents.” You roll your eyes, if it isn’t for them you would want to attend another not so strict and pretensions school.

“Why the eyeroll?” He takes his glasses of and puts them on the side. The switch in his charm with and without them is indescribable – with them on he gives this persona of a little introvert and unbothered guy, who is also extremely adorable; without them he gives and has the vide of the cocky cool guy with a bad boy vibe who with just one look will get you on your knees. Shaking you head of you try to focus yourself back into the small conversation.

“I don’t know if you have noticed but this school is quite pretentious.” You whisper like there are many people around you, moving your eyes side to side pointing out your surroundings. A puff of makeshift laugher escapes Ace’s lips as he nods his head.

“Yea, same. Can’t stand this place and its rules.” He leans on the back of the chair and loosen up the tie around his neck.

“Tell me about it, I already had three detentions.” You huff. Rasing one of his brows questionably to why and how you have gotten detention, three times on top of it. Even he hasn’t gotten one, yet. “Because of the stockings.” You scrunch your face with a smile and Ace chuckles at you.

“Why don’t you just wear the same ones as the other girls?” No matter how cool Ace wants to play it, this question has been on his mind for a long time. It is only you in the whole school who allows herself to wear something that is considered inappropriate.

“I really hate stockings, I don’t even like these ones, but God I would rather get detention than getting to the principal’s office ever again.” Your whole body shivers from the memories of it.

“What they send you to the principal just because of some socks?” Ace snort, he can’t believe how ridicules this school’s rules are.

“No, I was sent to him because I came to school without any – just me and my bare legs, and in my defence, it was the end of May and outside was almost thirty degrees.”  

“Oh, fuck this school.” Ace laughs in disbelief as he runs both of his hands through his hair messing it even more.

“There is more to the story.” You say and he looks at you like you are kidding. “Don’t look at me like this, I’m not joking. They called my parents and bear with me now – they had to listen to the principle going on and on about how unappropriated their daughter behaviour is because of this, and how she is promoting sexual behaviour in the school’s property dressed like that.”

“What a troublemaker you are (Y/N).” Ace clicks with his tongue as he laughs once he hears your story.

“The biggest one, don’t forget.” You point with your finger at him correcting his mistake as he raises his hands in the air like you have pointed a gun at him.

“How did your parents react?”

“They are super cool. I wasn’t grounded or anything like it, but they begged me only to never come to school again with bare legs.” Both of you share a light laughter before silence takes over you. “Should we continue?” You are the one to break it once again.

“Nah, I think we did enough for today. What are your plans next Wednesday after school, we can meet again?” Your eyes widen from excitement as you eagerly, too eagerly for your liking nod your head. “Cool, then until next Wednesday.” He says as he gets up and takes his stuff. “Troublemaker.” He chuckles at you over his shoulders and leaves.

****

Wednesday turns to next Friday, and next Friday turns to see you again on Monday and for the next three weeks you and Ace are meeting at least two times per week to work on your project even thought you do twenty percent working and the rest is you two talking and getting to know each other. To your surprise Ace is quite talkative when he wants to be. The more time you two spend together the more you get to know him, and the more is your crush on him growing.

One time you gain the courage and very subtilty you asked if he has a girlfriend to which he answered no, and you felt like all the powers, gods and goddesses, whatever is out there was with you that day. Not only that he is handsome with amazing personality, but he is also single. The two things you must be careful about now are: one trying to not get in the friendzone and two if he likes you – you don’t want it to be just sex, you want it to be more than this.

During school, every time you bump at each other in the hallways you are always greeting him, and he always nods at you or mumbles hello back. Of course, this got you a few unpleasant stares from a few girls around school. One time at literature class when he was the one to stop by your desk and talk with you, you noticed Isuka choking on her water and if it was possible in real life, she was going to have steam of smoke coming out of her ears out of jealousy.

The only sad part of it all is that you two are pretty much done with your project, only a few more details are left but it won’t take you more than two hours to finish it. As you are laying on your bed with your notebooks spread across on it, your phone vibrates. You grab it and your eyes sparkle with excitement once you see who the message is from.

‘Tomorrow same place at the same time?’

‘Of course ^.^’

Not wasting even a second later you dial Robins number. The moment she does you are quick to speak.

“Should I tell him that I like him?” You blurt out.

“If you feel like it – yes.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me back? That way things will be awkward till the rest of the year, and I don’t want it to be this way.” You bite on the cuticle of your nails as you stand up from your bed and start to walk back and forth in your room.

“I think he does.” Robin says with a reassuring voice over the phone.

“I think you are feeding my delusions.”

“Girl, calm down. From what you’ve told me and I’ve seen from you interacting I think he might be into you as well, plus you’ve said he that he is a pretty chill guy, so even if he doesn’t, I’m sure that it won’t be very awkward after it.” She starts to laugh as she can only imagine you going around in a circle around your room, and she isn’t wrong.

“You are right, after all the worst he can say is what? That he is not into me and… and…” Your mind goes spiraling with thoughts of what could be the worst thing Ace might say to cut you off.

“And the world will keep spinning now calm down and worry tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, you are right. See you tomorrow, Rob.”

“See you tomorrow… troublemaker.” She laughs and cuts the line immediately knowing how to tease you. You have mentioned to her how from time-to-time Ace calls you ‘troublemaker’.  Falling on your back on your bed you just stare at the ceiling – what is the worst that can happen tomorrow?

****

Walking home after his basketball practice, Ace can’t help but think of you. In the past three weeks you two have been talking a lot. He enjoys it more than he wants to admit to himself. On top of it, your beauty is like a bonus to your personality – not only you are smart and funny, but you are also mischievous and spontaneous. And he likes this about you a lot. You are the type of person who is down for anything, especially judging by the stories you have told him about yourself. You are also quite charming and cute when you have this sparkle of mischief in your eyes. Yes, you are a troublemaker, but not the type who looks for troubles on purpose, it is more like a rebellious troublemaker. You will stand behind your words and believes no matter what and not only does he finds this extremely attractive but he also respects it.

Unlocking the front door of his home and walking in he is greeted by the voice of his mom. Entering the living room, he sees her sitting on the couch drinking tea, as her long ginger hair is falling freely on her back and shoulders.

“How was practice, honey?” She asks with a big smile on her face as she takes a sip of her tea and then place it on the coffee table.

“Ma, stop calling me pet names like this.” He grunts as he takes a seat on the couch next to her with one arm prop at the back of the sofa. “And it went good and very, very tiring. We ran a lot today.” Ace tells her as he is stretching his legs with a hiss from the soreness.

“I can definitely smell this.” She replies sarcastically as she punches her nose and waves her hand at her face messing around with her son.

“Oh, shut up mom. I showered there and I will go shower again in a minute.” Ace laughs and moves closer to her as he raises his hands in the air making his mom fake a gag from her son’s sweat.

“You are the same pain in the ass as your dad.” She raises her voice acting like she is irritated but in fact she is not, she is having quite the fun with her son right now. Poking him on the sides where she knows that he is ticklish, she laughs when he groans and gets up from the couch.

“Well, I don’t come from the neighbor. You choose my dad not me.” He jokes with her as he reaches and takes her tea mug and chugs it down.

“Did you just drink all my tea?” Rouge’s eyes widen as she sees the smug smirk placed on her son’s face.

“Your stinky son is thirsty, sorry ma.” Ace lets out a boyish laugh as she reaches to playfully smack his forearm but misses. Grabbing his gym back from the floor he makes his way to the bathroom but before this he stops at the door and looks at his mom. “Mom, do I really stink?”

“No, Ace you don’t. I’m just messing with you.” She looks at her son lovingly as he nods his head. Sometimes he is such a dork, especially recently. But Rouge doesn’t mind it. In the past almost two weeks and so her son is somehow more talkative, more open. Something he hasn’t been in a long time, and something is telling Rouge that there is a girl involved in this, and she can’t wait to tease her son about it, but not now. For now, she is just enjoying having a little bit of her son’s old self back. But once she has the opportunity, she will definitely tease him about it, especially after he has mentioned briefly that he is doing a project for biology class with a girl and Ace never talks about girls of any kind with his mom.

After taking a shower and going to his room Ace grabs his phone as he sits on his bed and texts you. Tomorrow you are finishing your project and as much as he wants to be done with it, he is not that excited to be done with your little meetings after school. But you might continue to spend time with each other from time to time, after all you have a few shared classes together.

His thoughts are interrupted by his phone vibrating with a message from you as a little smile twitch on his lips. Laying on his bare back on the bed he looks up at the ceiling with thoughts filled with you. Maybe he does have a little crush on you, but this is not what he needs right now. After all you are a troublemaker, and it seems like troubles love to follow him.

****

Walking into school Ace feels a little weird today as a lot of people are staring weirdly at him. Usually, he doesn’t pay attention to people staring at him, but it is something in their eyes that it is like a judgment. He makes his way into the school sport hall as his first class for the day is PE. Leaving his gym bag in one of the lockers in the changing room as he came to school with his gym clothes, Ace made his way to the sport field. Entering the closed space field, he notices everyone staring and whispering in his direction. ‘What the fuck?’ he thinks to himself.

“Portgas.” He hears his name being called by no one but Jack himself. “Do you carry a blunt or two with yourself or we should call the police in case you lie.” Jack screams across the field and everyone laughs.

You and Robin have just entered the sport hall from the back entrance and are still dressed in your uniforms as you have some time before the class starts to change to your gym clothes. What confuses you both is seeing everyone laughing.

“Hey, Vanessa.” You call one of the girls with whom you speak from time to time in class. “Why is everyone laughing.”

“Oh my God, girls you must see this.” She says and pulls her phone up playing a video. The video is of a guy who is being held by the police as he is curing loudly and fighting them as they try to cuff him. “Jack sent this to the entire class, and well half of the school as well.”

“(Y/N) is this Ace?” Robin looks at you with frown brows. You are about to call her out but then you see the face of the guy, it is Ace. What is going on? Looking up from the phone screen you see Ace and the rest of the class laughing at him. Without giving it a second thought you run to him. You hear Robin calling after you, but you pay her no mind.

“Ace.” You call out once you are close enough to him. He just side glance you and doesn’t say anything. “I… um… there is this video going around… you getting cuffed by the police… are… are you okay Ace?”

“Do you know who spread it?” He asks you in a calm voice. Too calm for your liking.

“Vanessa told me that Jack sent it to half the school.” You quietly reply.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He says without looking at you and starts to make his way towards Jack with his fists clenched. Realizing what he is planning to do you are quick to stand in front of him and stop him by placing your hands on his chest.

“Ace don’t.” You give him a pleading look.

“Yes, Ace don’t. Listen to your little girlfriend.” Jack calls out loudly again but this time with mocking voice of a little girl. Laughter fills again the whole sport hall. Clenching his jaw tight Ace pushes off your hands and starts to make his way towards Jack again but you are not going to let this happen.

“Ace, please listen to me for just a second.” You stand in front of him again.

“Fuck off, (Y/N). This is between me and this motherfucker.” He snaps at you as he moves to the side but so do you as you aren’t letting him take another step.

“I know, but this is what he wants and Ace this won’t end with detention.” You know better than him how this school’s rules work. Especially when it comes to students like Jack with rich parents. Ace is going to be out the second he lays his hands on him. “As much as I want to see Jack’s face being punched, I don’t want you to get kicked out for a such thing.” After saying this Ace finally looks at you. his eyes and his whole face full of rage.

“Damn you (Y/N) and this whole school.” He spats at you before turning back and storming off the sport hall.

“Won’t you run after you boyfriend (Y/N)?” Jack says again with a mocking voice. Turning in his direction you just smile at him and start walking towards him. “You know if your attitude wasn’t so unpleasant you would make a very good girlfriend with a face like yours.” He smirks as you stand in front of him. Smiling at him and before he has the time to react, you spit in his face and walk away to find Ace. “You little bitch. Wait until I catch you.” Jack screams full of rage after you as his buddies gather around him trying to hold him still as he wants to run after you.

“(Y/N) you animal.” Isuka screams after you but you just raise your hand and show her the middle finger. Before you leave the sport hall Robin catches up with you.

“Girl, this will cause you some trouble you know?” She walks along you as you are looking everywhere trying to find Ace.

“I will worry about this later. I need to find Ace.”

“Oh my, you are a lost case. Do you really like him this much? Is he really worth the trouble?” She stops you by holding you by the shoulder and you look at her seriously.

“Yes, Robin. I do like him this much, and he is worth the trouble. Now please let me go so I can look for him.” Inhaling and exhaling deep she lets go of your arm.

“I can help you at least.” She pleads but you shake your head.

“Thank you, but I think it’s better it I do it alone.” Before you run away you look at her. “By the way will you cover for me for the rest of the day?”

“You don’t even need to ask me this.” Shaking her head with a smile she sends you off to look for Ace.

You look everywhere – the school hallways in both wings in all three floors, the cafeteria, the main floor by the entrance and now you are making your way to the library. For the almost four weeks you have spent together and the three months since school started you are a hundred percent sure that whatever the reason behind why he has been arrested isn’t something that will change your opinion about him. You know a little bit more about Ace now and one thing he is not is being a bad person. From what you have seen in the video it had happened in a school property and the best they can arrest you for is if you have been with drugs to school. Ace doesn’t seem like the guy who does hard drugs so you are a hundred percent sure that it might have been for weed. But even if it is for something more serious you don’t care much because you trust your intuition, which tells you that he has a valid reason and explanation to the story behind the video.

As you run towards the library you spot him walking out of the school. The moment you take a step to turn in his direction you feel a drop of rain on your face. ‘Grate now all we need is rain.’ You think to yourself as you fasten your pace to catch up with him.

“Ace, please wait.” You call after him to which he looks over his shoulder with still anger written all over his face.

“Go back to school (Y/N).” His voice is still harsh but not as much as when he has told you to fuck off in the sport hall.

“I can’t go back to school. Please, it’s about to be pouring rain. I-I can drive you home or whenever you are goi-” Ace turns to you with an angry expression – his brows drew together with his jaw clenched. He opens his mouth to say something and in this exact moment rain stars to fall from the sky like crazy. Both of you get soaked in a matter of seconds – him with his long sleeve compress black t-shirt and basketball shorts and you in your now soaked school uniform.

“Go back to school (Y/N) and just continue with your day.” He rolls his eyes and turns around as he starts to walk away from you.

“Ace, I can’t go back to school and continue with my day because... I... well I did something...” This makes Ace stop his track and looks at you. As if he couldn’t look even more hotter than before now with all his clothes soaked from the rain and his black hair wet from it you could faint from the sight of him on the spot.

“What did you do (Y/N)?” His voice got even deeper. Ace is standing and watching you looking at your feet and arms behind your back just like a little kid who has done a mischief and now is guilty about it. Not only this but your white shirt is now stuck to your body from the rain Ace can clearly see the bright red bra under it, which is matching with the stockings you are wearing today, making it very hard for him to focus on just your face alone. Lifting your head and giving him big doe eyes look, with your mascara smudged a bit from the rain, anger isn’t the only thing he is feeling right now.

“I-I spat Jack in the face.” You look away now ashamed of what you have done even if he deserved it.  

“You what?” Ace takes a step towards you. He can’t believe you have done this and the trouble you will get into for it. “Why did you do this?” His mind is running wild. Why would you do such thing? You won’t be getting away with just a detention after school.

“Because he tried to make fun of you.” Wrapping your arms around yourself you tired to shield from the cold rain and his pierced gaze.

“I can stand form myself (Y/N), I don’t need some girl to do it for me. Thank you, now everyone thinks I’m a coward and a pussy on top of it.” Running his hands over his wet locks Ace shuts his eyes and tries to take some deep breaths.

“A-Ace I-I didn’t mean to cause you harm. I-I just... I-I wasn’t thinking... I-”

“Just shut up.” Opening his eyes and seeing how your own eyes are filled with guilt and shame he curses himself. “I’m mad right now, okay? I don’t want to be an ass toward you, but damn it, why you are such a troublemaker all the damn time.” This isn’t a question, this is a statement. Why are you going headfirst aways? Why did you even go to such extreme just because some asshole tied to get on his nerves. Seeing how you are shivering from the cold Ace exhales deeply and grabs you by the arm firmly but also gentle at the same time. “Where is your car?” He asks you as you start walking towards the parking lot.

“There is the little red one.” You point with your finger towards the small Toyota Aygo parked in the middle of the parking.

“What is with your obsession with the red colour?” Ace huffs as you reach your car and waits for you to unlock it.

“I didn’t choose the car nor the colour of it. And red is not my favourite colour.” You say with a little pout as you unlock the car and both of you get in. Ace has to adjust the seat as he is a bit too tall for your car.

“Yea, bet.” He scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

“Where should I drive to?”

“My place.” Ace replies dryly. Brushing your wet hair from your face you nod and start the car.

****

The car ride is silent. The only time you and Ace exchange any type of words is when you ask him for direction. These twenty minutes to his place felt like an eternity to you. ‘Good job (Y/N), now you messed up any chance to have something with him.’ You are thinking to yourself. There is no chance that things will recover easily now that you have put both you and Ace in this situation. Parking the car in front of the building where he lives you don’t dare to look at him.

Unbuttoning his seatbelt Ace looks at you with one brow raised. Why are you not turning off the car?

“Aren’t you coming?” Hearing the question from him you finally dare to look at him.

“Uh... I... do you want me to come? I-I don’t want to bother your mom or something.” This and you also haven’t expected to receive such an invitation from him.

“Yea, come if you want. My mother is not home anyway.” He is still a bit pissed at you, but he also sees you trembling as you both are still soaking wet from the rain. Last thing Ace wants is for you to get sick because of him.

Hesitating for a moment you slowly nod your head and turn off the car. Unbuttoning your seatbelt, you and Ace both go out of it. The rain is still pouring but none of you hurries up to get inside. You are quietly following him as you enter the building and get in the elevator. Ace press the third floor on it and in the meantime, you look at yourself in the mirror. You notice that you look like a mess – with your hair and cloths all wet and your makeup ruined you feel like a clown right now. On top of it you notice that your bra is seen from under your shirt, and you can feel the embarrassment taking over your features again.

The ding of the elevator indicates that you reached his floor, and you wait for him to go out first so you can follow. Searching for his keys in the side pocket of his gym bag Ace pulls them up and unlocks the door. Opening the door, he nods at you to get in first. Taking a step in and taking off your boots you take a quick look around the place. It looks very neat and cozy, the walls are a very nice light cream nude colour.

“We can go to my room.” Ace says as he starts walking toward it and you go after him. While passing the living room you notice that there are a lot of paintings on the walls of flowers. Looking at you over his shoulder Ace notices you observing them. “It’s my mom’s hobby. Painting flowers is her new obsession.” He explains while holding the door to his room open waiting for you to get in.

“She pains very nice, they are beautiful.” You say as you look from under your lashes at him as you pass to enter his room. The room is quite messy, but you are not surprised or judgy as yours is not better condition than his. Some of the walls have basketball players on them and the walls are paint in a nice spruce blue colour. Next to his window is a big desk with his computer on it and by the looks of it he is also a gamer boy.

“You game a lot?” You ask trying to break the uncomfortable silence that has taken over again and also to calm yourself down because the realisation that you are in his room, in his apartment soaking wet just hits you.

“Yea, you can say this.” His reply is dry but unbeknown to you Ace is feeling just as awkward as you are right now. What was he thinking inviting you over? Especially with you looking like this right now, which causes his mind to run wild with the things he wants to do to you.

“Is that LeBron?” You point at one of the posters hanged on the walls to which he scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

“It’s Koby, um... it’s written with big letters on it.” He points back at the poster, and you awkwardly chuckle at your obvious mistake.

“Sorry, guess I need to check my eyes.” You let out a giggle as you try to lighten up the mood. Ace doesn’t share the giggle with you and at this point you are running out of ideas to how to make the situation less awkward. Chills run all over you and you wrap your arms around you to which Ace clears his throat.

“I can give you some clothes to change to, um... give me a sec and sit on the bed or something you don’t need to stand up.”

“It’s okay I don’t want to wet your bed or something.” You try to brush his offer off, but he just points with his eyes towards the bed so you just nod. Going to his wardrobe he starts to look for something that can fit you as well, but all his cloths will be too big on you. Finding some old basketball shorts and a baggy t-shirt he grabs them, ‘they should fit her’ he thinks to himself. Turning around and seeing you sitting crossed leg on his bed so innocently looking at him at the same time with guilt written all over your face, gets his pulse raising. Taking a few steps and standing in front of you, with a little bit of a distance, he hands you the clothes. You mouth a thank you and reach with your hand to take them.

“Why did you stop me from punching his face but not yourself from spiting on it? You realise that now you are the one in trouble not me?” Giving you the clothes he sits right next to you on the bed. This time his voice is calm, there is no trace of anger in it. Ace wants to genuinely know why you put yourself in this situation.

Trying to collect yourself you don’t know how to response to this question without making things between you two worse. How do you tell him that you like him so much that the fact that a guy like Jack trying to make some kind of fun of him makes your blood boil. How do you tell Ace in a first place that you like him?

“I-I told you Ace... I just... just don’t like people like Jack making fun of others.” You uncross your legs and put the clothes to the side as you start playing with your fingers nervously.

“I get this part without you needing to repeat yourself. But you came and told me to drop it only for you to go and do the same thing is not very smart.” Ace turns his head to face you, but you refuse to look at him. “(Y/N) look at me.” His words are demanding but his voice is not, instead it is softer and somehow pleading. Still, you refuse to look at him as you are afraid if you do so you won’t be able to resist the urge to just scream at his face that you have feelings for him. Ace curses under his breath and places two of his finger under your chin making you look at him. “I didn’t and I don’t care what any person in this fucking school will or already is thinking of me or the video they saw. In a few months none of these people will matter. And I have been wanting to punch Jack’s face in a long time and if it wasn’t for you, I was going to do it. But why did you have to get involved?” Ace is trying his best to get an answer from you but all he gets is widen from fear eyes and you biting on your lip to a point where he thinks blood will come out soon. With a sigh he drops the hand that holds your chin on the bed next to your thigh, his shoulders slumping a bit as he doesn’t know what do to or say to make you to tell him the truth behind your actions. “I’m not mad at you, I’m more concerned about what will happen to you now. I don’t want you to get expelled from school because of me.”

“They won’t expel me, I will get in trouble, but they won’t expel me for it, so don’t worry.” Your voice is quiet as you try to reassure Ace that he shouldn’t be worried about you. But the fact that he is concern about you is filling your belly with butterflies.

“This doesn’t answer my question (Y/N).” He says propping his elbows on his knees and resting his head in the palms of his hands.

“I-I can’t Ace.” You whisper.

“You can’t tell me? Why?” He straitens his posture again and looks at you in disbelief. “Why are you shy out of nowhere? Where is the confident rebellious girl that I know, now? You left her at school or something?” He is right. This isn’t like you. But you just can’t bring yourself to tell him, afraid of his rejection. You could feel your heart beating faster with every passing second.

“I- Ace... I- I... I did it because... because...” The words are on the tip of your tongue but saying them aloud is harder than you expected. Especially now with your eyes locked, the more you look into his deep dark eyes the more you are afraid of them rejecting you. “Because... Ace...”

“Just say it for fuck’s sake.” He snaps and at the same time you shut your eyes closed and blurt it out.

“Because I like you.” Silence filles the room. With your chest raising and falling fast you don’t dare to look at Ace, while he is trying to process what he just heard. Did he heard you right, you like him? Like you have a crush on him?

“Wh-what do you mean you like me?” His eyes widen from the shock and voice filled with confusion if you dare to open your eyes you will see his cheeks covered in blush as he still can’t believe what he has just heard. Not being able to take any more embarrassment for today you jump on your feet ready to run but Ace catches you just on time as you are about to open the door. Turning you around to face him and grabbing both of your wrists in his hands he pins you against the door with his body. “You can’t tell me you like me only to run away a second later.” He grunts as his face leans closer to yours. “How long?”

“Ace please...” You whisper pleadingly. Your legs are getting weak and your mind is getting foggy from having him towering over you. Not to mention the heat that forms in between your legs from the way you can feel his body on you.

“No. Answer. Now.” His voice goes lower and deeper sending chills on your body. “How long?” He repeats his question as he squeezes on your wrists but not in a painful way but in a very gentle yet demanding one. Looking away from his eyes he clicks with his tongue. “No, look me in the eyes.” Cursing under your nose you do as he tells you too. “Good girl. Now answer.”

“Since we start school.” You mumble quietly almost making it impossible for him to hear you.

“Louder (Y/N).” He presses his body on you entirely with one leg in between yours causing you to bite on your lip so hard just so you can supress the moan that almost has slipped your lips.

“Since we started school, okay? I had a crush on you since day one and... and then I started to like you... that’s... that’s why I-I...” You can’t finish your sentence as Ace crashes his lips with yours. It takes you a second to realise what has happened but the moment you do you return the kiss immediately. His kiss and his lips are better than you have imagined them - soft and full, you are a hundred percent sure you have never kissed a guy with such nice lips before. And the way he kisses you with passion and desire you are about to melt in his hands. Releasing your wrist and wrapping his arms around your waist you are fast to wrap yours around his neck.

“Jump.” Ace whispers against your lips and he doesn’t need to tell you twice. With one little bounce he catches you in his steady arms and lifts you. Wrapping your legs around his torso he continues to kiss you as this time his tongue licks your lower lips asking you to open your mouth. Parting your lips Ace wastes no time slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Electric currents are running over your body the moment he deepens the kiss. His tongue gliding with yours feels so warm and sweet. The taste of the kiss is a mixture of mint and the candy you and Robin shared earlier before classes.

Walking to the bed with you in his arms Ace places you gently in the middle of it as he hovers over your body without breaking the kiss. Now like this you have a better access to his body, you run one of your hands through his messy soft dark locks and the other over his hard defined with muscles back. Breaking the kiss to take the needed air both of you have forgotten that you need, Ace looks at you with half lidded eyes as he licks his lips which now are puffier from the kissing.

“You want this as well, right?” He sounds a little out of breath as his face comes closer to your ready to kiss your sweet puffy lips again, but also to make sure that you both are on the same page with where this is going. You can’t find your voice so all you can do is nod your head and pull him for another kiss. This time you don’t supress the moan that wants to escape your lips when you feel his hand grabbing and squeezing your thighs as he slides them under your skirt.

Feeling the soft skin of your thighs and hearing your sweet alluring moan, Ace feels his dick twitching in his shorts. Removing his hands from under your skirt he finds the zipper of it and unzips it. Pulling away from the kiss and you, he gives you a few slaps on the side of your right thigh to lift your hips so he can take off your skirt. Doing as you are being told he takes it off fast and sighs with pleasure at the view in front of him as he parts your legs.

“You sure red is not your favourite colour?” He smirks as he teases you over your red lace panties which now are drenched from your wetness. “Come on, I have only kissed you, not even properly touch you yet and you are this desperate for me?” Ace licks his lips not moving his eyes away from your covered pussy.

“You are not the one to talk.” You are quick to tease him back as his hardened bulge is being quite visibly defined in his basketball shorts.

“I’m not even fully hard yet.” He smirks from satisfaction seeing your pupils dilate. Hovering over you once again Ace kisses you again but only for his lips to travel to your jawline down to your neck. Him kissing and nipping your neck, while his hands are running up and down your thighs, feels like you are levitating. Finding your sweet spot on your neck, Ace gives it a lick and then sucks on it causing you to jerk your body upwards from the pleasure and goosebumps he has just caused you, but he is fast to hold you firm under him with his hands and body. “Stay put.” He whispers in your ear as he bites on the soft part of it causing you to whine under him.

Running your hands down on his biceps you realise that he has way too many clothes, and it’s time for him to get rid from some of it. Reaching with your hands down to his torso you find the ends of his compress shirt and start lifting it. Knowing what your intensions are, Ace helps you with removing the shirt as he throws it somewhere across the room. You feel your pussy throbs from the sight of him shirtless. His chest is defined and muscular and so are his abs which get your mouth running dry. You run both of your hands over it, feeling his warm and soft skin under your fingertips, you bite on your lower lip as you notice a tattoo on his left arm, which you have never seen before.

“Enjoying the view?” He chuckles as his hands reach for the buttons of your shirt and start unbuttoning them one by one. Propping yourself on your elbows, you help him take it off. Reaching to unclip your bra Ace is quick to stop you. “No, this can stay. Red looks good on you.” His voice has gone raspier and he gently pushes you to lay back on the bed again. Pressing you once again on the matters he dips his head in the crook of your neck and slowly trails his lips down to the valley of your chest. With his hands now on both of your breasts he cups them and squeezes gently.

While he is busy kissing the skin around them and massaging them you are exploring the expanse of his back and shoulders. Reaching the waistband of his basketball shorts and determined to take them down, you get distracted as you feel Ace pushing one side of your bra lower and wrapping his lips around your harden nipple. Your hands move to his hair instantly as you push him closer to your chest. He doesn’t let your other breast feel left out as his thumb and index finger are switching between soft and hard pinches making you whine in pleasure.

“Ace please.” You beg him as you can feel the pool of arouser that has formed in between your legs. Rasing your hips a bit so you can get a bit of friction to his harden bulge he pins you down again with his body making it impossible for you to move. Letting go of your nipple with his lips and looking up at you he shakes his head. His dark brown eyes are now filled with lust as does his mind.

“Do you know how long you have been teasing me with these stockings you come to school and your innocent glances at me all the time?” He asks you while rolling his hips on top of you with a hiss. Your eyes widen with surprise as you heard that he has caught you staring at him all the time in school. “What you think I haven’t notice?” Ace laughs mockingly at you. “You think I haven’t notice you getting all dolled up for our first meeting for the project or these beautiful thighs since day one?” He teases you with his low deep voice as he stars traveling down with his lips on your body.

Moving his hands and placing them at the back of your knees Ace raises them and places your legs on his shoulders leaving you entirely exposed to him. Running his fingers on your stockings up to where your thighs are exposed, he lets out a sigh full of satisfaction. Your soft and beautiful thighs which have been driving him crazy for months, now are finally in his hands and the things he has been planning to do to them are about to come true.

With one hand caressing your left thigh, he starts slowly placing a trail of kisses on the inner side of the right one. As he gets close to now your drenched lace panties, he bites softly on your softest part of your inner thigh causing you to jerk closer to him as you can’t stand his teasing anymore.

“Ace please... please touch me.” You are so desperate for his touch that a single tear falls from your left eye.

“Sh, patience.” He is quick to hush you as he turns his attention now to your left thigh and does the exact same thing all over again but this time with his kisses are slopier. Not only the waistband around his basketball short is getting tighter but so are his boxers. It takes all his willpower to withhold himself from taking them down and fuck you aggressive on his bed, but before he does this, he must taste your pussy.

Gripping on the side of your hips a bit to harsh but not on purpose, Ace drags your lower body even closer to his face and finally he is able to inhale the sweet smell from your soaked pussy. Kissing your pussy lips over the fabric of your panties, a whisper leaves your mouth. Tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his nose, Ace stops at your covered entrance and kisses it, causing his lips to get wet from your dripping pussy. Licking his lips and taseting how sweet your cunt is, he can’t help but moan himself. Holding you still firm in his arms with legs propped on his shoulders, he reaches with his right index to move aside your panties.

“Oh God you are so beautiful.” His voice comes out as a whine of pleasure as he finally uncovers you and he can see your coated from arousal pussy. You can’t help but clench your cunt around nothing as his comment makes you squeeze your thighs from desire. “Ye baby, make this pussy throbs again.” Ace being pussydrunk by the sight in front of him, can’t move his eyes from your cunt as he is in an awe. You do as he has told you and another moan leaves his lips. The view of your wet pussy leaking with your arousal almost made him finish on the spot.

Not wasting a second more Ace buries his face in your wet folds. Taking one long lick from the entrance to your puffed clit your whole body shakes. Cleaning all the sweet juices off he is now entirely focused on your clit. Sucking and licking the bundle of nerves Ace gets you twisting and turning under him. A sudden impactful slap causes tingling sensation on your ass cheek. A mixture of pleasurable pain and surprice leaves your lips.

“Stay still.” Is the only thing Ace tells you as he looks at you with a hungry look in his eyes and lips still on your pussy. “Or you won’t finish.”

Inhaling deep as he goes back to eating you out you are now entirely up to his mercy. You can no longer move or squeeze your hips afraid that he might deny you your orgasm. Sucking harshly on your clit, he extremely gently bites on it which caused you a feeling of pleasurable pain that you have never felt before, he slowly moves his tongue to your entrance. Plunging his tongue in your entrance he starts to slowly tongue fuck you which causes your eyes to roll from pleasure. Taking a better hold of you with his left arm Ace reaches with his right hand and places his thumb on your clit and start to run circles around it. With his tongue fucking you and his finger playing with your clit you feel the pleasure building in your lower stomach. Gripping the bedsheets under you in a tight grip your hips start to shake. It takes one stronger push on your clit from Ace’s finger to get you crying out his name as your orgasm hits you like the truck.

Ace rolls his eyes from pleasure the moment he feels you clenching your pussy around his tongue as your sweet cum covers his tongue. Not even bothering to stop until he licks the last drop from you Ace doesn’t move an inch from your pussy.

“Ace, Ace please... please I’m too sensitive... Ace...” You try to make him stop but all the air has left your lungs and you feel dizzy under him. With one last long lick and a kiss placed on top of your clit Ace finally pulls his head away from between your thighs. Taking your legs off from his shoulders he lays them spread on the bed. Coming closer and hovering over you he brushes the hair from your face and kisses your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips as now he is slowly kissing you as his lips and chin are covered in your pussy’s juices.

“You taste so sweet, baby. I can get addicted to the taste of you.” He whispers as he pulls from the kiss. With half lidded eyes and still recovering from the aftermath of your orgasm you cup his face in your hands and pull him for another kiss. Relaxing his body on top of yours, you can feel his dick twitching in his pants. Sliding one hand in between your bodies you trace the harden bulge with your hand and squeeze it causing Ace to hiss from pleasure. Breaking the kiss again you both looking into each others’ eyes.

“I think your shorts needs to be taken off.” You swallow hard as you gently massage his hard member.

“Yea, I think so too.” Sitting on his knees again Ace pulls down his shorts along with his boxers freeing his harden cock. Your thighs clench at the sight of it. His cock is not only big, but it is also thick and vainly. Precum is already leaking from his redden tip as he runs his hand up and down his shaft. Moving to stand from his bed he takes the shorts and the boxers off entirely and kicks them on the floor. He reaches to his nightstand and open the last drawer taking a condom from it. Ripping it open with his teeth he slides the condom on his length and hopes back on bed, nesting himself between your legs. “Are you ready? Relaxed?” He hovers over you and looks at your eyes to see if there is any sign of hesitation in them.

“I am Ace.” You breath out as you adjust your body more comfortably on the pillows behind you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him closer to you.

“You are not a...” He awkwardly scrunches his face as even though he is sure you are not a virgin, he rather be safe then sorry.

“Uh, no... I... I have done it a few times.” You chuckle a little shy and also finding it adorable that he is so mindful about your comfort as well. Nodding he spreads your legs open a little more with one hand as he runs the tip of his dick up and down from your clit to your entrance.

“Relax and enjoy then.” He says as he kisses your lips once more and positions his tip on your entrance. You bite on his lower lip as with a little push he entrances you slowly. The feeling of burn is taking over your core because of his size and seeing this, Ace gives you some time to adjust to it. Clenching around him he hisses from pleasure which instinctively makes him trust in you. A moan of pleasure escapes your parted lips, and this gives Ace the sign to go.

Rocking his hips slowly but steady in and out of you, Ace has propped himself on his elbows on both of your sides and is looking down on where your bodies are connected. Trying to muffle your whines and moans by kissing along his neck and shoulders, your hands are exploring his chest and back as you can’t get enough of the feeling of his soft skin on yours.

Increasing his tempo as he feels you relaxing more under him Ace grabs your legs again and place them on his shoulders, raising your lower back in the air as he grabs a pillow and places it under it. Now standing steady on his knees, he has put you both in a better position where you can feel him better and deeper in your gummy walls, hitting the sweet spot causing you pleasure all over your body. Now focused on your breasts bouncing with every hard thrust he reaches with his hands and pinches your hard nipples causing you to arch your back from pleasure. Clenching and unclenching your pussy from pleasure around him, your moans mixed with his grunts fill up the room.

“Shit, if you continue to squeeze this tight I... shit...” He lets out a moan as you squeeze on more time your pussy around his dick. Grunting, Ace puts down your left leg and turns your body to the side as he keeps your right leg up. In this position, hitting your walls sideways you can’t help but roll your eyes from pleasure. You can feel the burning sensation in your lower stomach forming once again indicating you that you are close.

Seeing you arching your back and rolling your eyes, with fists clenching around the bedsheets a cocky smile spreads across his face. Ace feels like he has never seen something sexier than you right now - your puffy swollen lips parted and your boobs bouncing up and down with every trust his dick makes deep into you.

“Ace, I’m goin...” A muffle cry leaves your lips, making it unable for you to finish your sentence as your whole-body jerks and shakes around Ace as you milk down his dick. The squeezing of your pussy as you climax on him, makes it feel tighter for him and Ace can feel that he is about to cum soon. With the feeling of your warm gummy walls hugging tight his dick he trusts now harder in you than before. The sounds of your skin slapping and the hot air of sex that has taken over the room makes him roll his own eyes and with one last thrust he shoots his head back and a loud groan leaves his lips as he cums with his dick buried deep in you.

With both of you trying to catch your breaths, Ace pulls out after a minute from you but before he gets from the bed he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. Grabbing his boxers before he leaves the room, he tells you that he will be back in a moment to which you only nod as you are still recovering from your high. Coming back after a minute in the room with his boxers on, he carries a wet towel with him.

“You don’t need to do all this I can do it myself.” You protest but Ace shushes you as he sits on the bed next to you and gently cleans the mess between your legs.

“I clean after myself, plus you said you don’t want to wet my bed, right?” He chuckles as he messes up with you. Hiding your face with the palms of your hands you laugh at his comment.

After he made sure that you are good and alright, Ace helps you to put some cloths on and both of you get under the covers of his bed. He is leaned on the headboard as one of his hands is placed over your shoulders with your head on his chest. Runing circles on his chest with your fingers you move your head a bit to take a better look at him.

“Um, Ace?” You quietly call for his attention and he focus it on you. “Can I ask why were you arrested?” You aren’t sure if this is the best moment to ask this, but it is worth the shot. Ace hums and takes a deep breath before he answers.

“I was getting in school fights a lot and one day I broke a guy’s arm from my class. But this is not why they cuffed me, it was because I was high and had weed with me.” He explains short and clear. “I got kicked out and with a lot of connections and thanks to my grades, my mom managed to get me into the shit of school we go now.” Saying this he looks down on you and chuckles sarcastically. “You still like me now?”

“The question is do you like me?” You are still scared of the answer as having sex with you don’t equal mutual feelings.

“About this...” Ace takes a deep breath in and can’t help but laughs as he sees your face going blank from fear. “How do you feel about a date this Friday?” He gives you a charming smile and you are finally able to breath again.

“As long as I don’t get grounded after today, it is a yes.” You smile at him as you would love to go on a date with him.

“Then this should give you your answer.” He kisses the top of your head as you snuggle closer to him.

****

You two have fallen asleep when Ace suddenly jerks awake as he hears something falling in the kitchen. Looking around his room is dark which means you two have taken quite the long nap. Moving you aside a bit as he gets up to check what made the noise. Putting a t-shirt and a pair of shorts to cover his body, Ace leaves the room fast as he doesn’t want to wake you up.

Getting in the kitchen he is met with his mom stern but also warm gaze.

“Care to explain why you left school early today?” Rogue asks her son as she is preparing dinner. Ace blushes as he realises now that his mother is home there is no way possible that he can sneaks you out nor that she hasn’t notice the pair of girly boots by the entrance of her home.

“Uh, yes ma. But you know... I kinda have someone over.” He awkwardly scratches the nape of his neck. Rogue can’t help but laugh as she sees Ace whole face getting flushed.

“Mm, I kind of already figured this out.” She half shrugs with her brings her focus again on the cutting board. “Is she your girlfriend?” Taking a glance at her son again she giggles as he is struggling with finding the right words to describe the situation.

“Soon to be... maybe... yea something like this.” Ace murmurs avoiding looking at his mother.

“Well, then she should definitely stay for dinner, don’t you think?” Rouge puts the knife down and smiles at Ace. This is new. She has never met any girl Ace has liked or let alone catching him with one at their home, so she is more than excited to finally meet a girl who her son is interested in.

“I will ask her if she wants to.” Ace says as he turns to walk back to his room.

“Is she the girl you are paired with for biology?” Rouge calls after Ace before he leaves the room to which he response with his thumbs up without looking back at her. A big knowing smile placed on her face. She knew it. She knew that his recent behaviour is caused because of a girl. And she can’t wait to meet her and thanks her for bringing her son’s sparkle back.

END NOTE: This is the first smut ever that I write so please I need a feedback if it was good or not. I really hope that you have enjoyed this one shot as I really tried to build the characters and their characteristics + behavior in the best way possible giving the fact that this won't be a series. Also I hope that you have enjoy the little interactions between Ace and his mother Rouge as I feel like he would be such a mama's boy but not in the awful unhealthy obsessed way, but in the very healthy mother-son relationship. Anyway I won't be yapping more - if you liked this short story feel free to like, comment, reblog or inbox me ♡ And as aways thank you for reading my works ♡

writing, format, header & dividers © eand47 ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[kwoniele]

don't let them hear — choi subong

synopsis: lights off meant something a little different between you and the famous choi subong, also known as thanos.

genre: smut and fluff bc theyre js exes who want eo bad LOL. green flag choi subong... say WHAT 💜

warnings: afab reader, tease, fingering, nothing else honestly

author's note: this is the first time i have ever written on this account + since my social media detox so pls bear w me if this isnt exactly up to your standards ha ha ha... ily anyway not proofread! i wrote this when it was 3am leave me be.

"lights will be turned off in ten seconds."

in a moment, the lights will dim and the only thing shedding light in the room would be the giant pig dangling from the ceiling and choi subong's pale skin that's attached to yours. ever since he told you he would be joining you in bed tonight, you couldn't deny the fact you were thrilled. your drug-addict ex boyfriend shouldn't have excited you this much. let alone the fact you were waiting for him. 

"five, four, three, two, one." now, it was fully dark. 

you sighed in disappointment. you turned away from the side subong was and decided to sleep on your own. you knew you shouldn't have trusted him at all, yet you were gullible enough to believe he'd keep his promise. and he didn't. cause if he did, he would be beside you with his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him so that you could warm one another up.

"y/n?," your eyes abruptly opened, "are you still awake?" he actually did it. he actually kept his promise.

he actually came.

you decided to play the stubborn game and not answer. but you knew that he was aware you were definitely up. "don't want me here? okay señorita. i'll leave." his footsteps began to get quieter as he 'left'. you felt guilty and decided to let him explain himself. after all, it hasn't been long since that robot woman announced it was time for bed.

"fuck you." you turned toward him, expecting him to be halfway gone already. yet you met a choi subong sitting down with his arms trapping his knees while replicating footsteps that were leaving. "wow. double fuck you.'

"please, i know you want me here. so move over." he stood up and laid down beside you as his head automatically dug itself into your chest. "i don't give a fuck if you're going to go on some lecture about how i should have been here sooner, so don't waste your time." he pecked your collarbone before adjusting his position. "i'm here with you and that's what matters. okay?"

speechless is an understatement. you couldn't even be mad. you couldn't feel the slightest anger in you because he's right there. you could see his purple hair laying on your neck.

wait. something's wrong. something's missing.

"wait. choi subong. where's the necklace?" you used two fingers to tilt his head up so you could see his eyes. they're still as pretty as ever. fuck him for having such charming eyes. 

"gone. i threw it away when i saw you rave about how you were so much happier when you quit." he stared at you. waiting for you to say something. "what? do you want me to dig my hands into the toilet to retrieve it?"

"did you seriously… get rid of it? for me?" you sat up. tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before holding his hands. you noticed the tattoo he dedicated to you. the little heart with a sun next to it because he said that you were his ray of sunshine.

"of course i did. i meant it when i told you i'd fix myself as long as we crossed paths again, you know. i don't just make promises for the sake of—" shutting him up with your lips was probably your favourite thing to do. you missed this. you missed him. you missed feeling his lips perfectly match yours everytime you leaned in to him. 

"then i meant it when i told you i'd let you fuck me whenever, wherever. hopefully you take that damn opportunity now." he analysed your face before realising you were serious. he didn't even need to say anything. he just held your face by your jaw, kissing you rougher than earlier while gently laying you down on your bed.

he took off your pants and placed it just beside the bed, sliding your panties right after it. "fuck. how long have you been this wet, hm?" his middle finger glided itself from your cunt to your clit, using your slick as lubricant to teasingly insert his finger in your hole. "was it when i told you i quit? or when you kissed me? or better yet, since you saw me?"

"fuck, subong–" his free hand covered your mouth, preventing you from letting a noise out. 

"can you be quiet for me, baby? wouldn't want to let these jackasses know i'm fucking the prettiest girl here, would you?" you shook your head, agreeing that you should be dead silent. 

you didn't even notice that he snuck a second finger, fucking you with his fingers repeatedly until your were squirming and arching your back from the bed. "that's it, baby. do just that." his thumb flicked your clit, causing you to buck your hips on his hand. 

you don't know how he understood, but you mumbled against his hand that you were going to cum. his smirk was evident in the dark room which caused you to be pushed to the edge even more. "are you going to cum? hmm? is my baby finally going to cum for the love of her life?"

all you could do was nod. it was cute to him.

when you finally reached your release, he made sure to lick off all of your juice from his fingers. you watched him slowly suck on his ring finger while intensely staring at you. "i love you. don't leave ever again. i better be the only one you do this to."

"only for you, baby. just you and me. choi subong and future choi y/n. okay?

[jarofstyles]

The Heart Of The Woods

Hi my loves! I wanted to give you guys a peek into our grumpy mountain manrry! He’s different to some that I’ve written before but I think you’ll like him if you give him a chance

Read the series ( 9 parts ongoing) and 220+ exclusive writings on our Patreon!

WC- 1.4k

Warnings- tiny bit of rejection, asshole h

He hadn’t been sure what he was thinking.

Hiring a housekeeper had not been on his agenda, but it put his mum at ease. Being far from her, up in his large cabin in the middle of the mountain, she had said she worried a lot about not only his well being, but about him overworking himself. His days started early, working on splitting wood, emails, driving down to deliver it, and all of that. His group of employees that worked on the lot not too far from his own place up the mountain were his main source of socialization and even they knew not to bug him too much.

Harry preferred to be left alone.

So why hire a housekeeper? It sounded okay at the time. Someone to keep the fire stoked and the house warm so he could come home and not have the house be cold for him and his animals, someone to cook and clean and… another body in the house. Make it less lonely. Maple was a good companion, Ash was too, but a dog and a cat didn’t replace human connection. Perhaps that’s why he had found himself feeling more irritated lately.

Watching the car pull in, he had to wonder how she could fit her belongings into such a small vehicle. Weren't women supposed to have a lot of stuff? The question was answered as she stepped out of the car, light wash jeans clinging to her thighs and pink sweater hanging on her form as she waved up to him. "Hi!" she grinned a tad bit too brightly for his comfort, jogging up to the wraparound porch. "I’m so sorry l'm a little late. I got lost at the turn- the split in the road? and I didn't have good service to call and let you know. I usually try and do that.”

She was rambling.

He grumbled, wiping his hands on his work pants. “Late's fine. I didn’t have any plans today, just don’t make a habit of it.” Glancing at her car, then back at her, he gave her a little bit of a look. “You got everything you need?” He wasn’t the best at socializing, famously, but she wasn’t aware of that yet considering their talk had mainly consisted of emails. It would be something she quickly found out.

“Oh!” Her chuckle was nervous as the man stood tall above her on the wooden porch, making her look up a bit at him. “Uh, yeah. I.. I kinda had to get out of my place in a hurry, so this worked out.” She smiled up at him before looking back to her car. “Did you want me to grab my stuff now or did you want me to do it after you give me the run down of what you want me to do?”

He sighed, stepping aside to let her pass. “Follow me.” He led her inside, shutting the door behind her. It was weird feeling someone else in his space. It had been a long time since he’d heard footsteps other than his own or his pets in the hall, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it yet. Leading her down the wooden hall, he brought her towards the main part of the house- a large step down living room he mentally referred to as the den. The stone fireplace was lit with the fire going already as he gestured to a chair by it. “Sit.”

Y/N was distracted a little by the skylight- and then the view outside. It was absolutely gorgeous. The whole place was. She had slightly underestimated it despite the size of the place when she had applied to work eyes but she would make it work. At least the view was great. She could see that there was a deck outside, the view of the mountains sprawling behind them sort of blowing her away. The awe only lasted a few moments though, when she heard him clear his throat. Oops. “Sorry.” She smiled nervously. “The view distracted me. You’ve got a beautiful home.”

He grunted, not really used to compliments. Small talk wasn’t his thing. He sat down in his recliner, stretching his legs out in front of him before resting his hands on his knees. “So, as your employer, I expect you t’keep this place clean. Cook meals, do laundry, that sort of thing.” He paused, looking at her critically. “M’not home most of the day, and when I am I’m usually in my workshop. It’s the building out to the side that you saw.” He clasped his hands together. “We don’t need to have a ton of interaction. I need you to keep the fire stoked, maybe feed Ash for me if I get back late. I don’t have a lot of rules, but I ask you to respect my space.”

“Uh, alright.” She nodded, taking out her phone to take notes. “I figured the normal house stuff. I…” Her body felt the cringe as she went to ask it. “I haven’t really stoked a fire longer than it’s taken to do a bonfire while camping so, if there’s some sort of magic you know to keep it going longer I’d love to know it.” The girl didn’t want to fuck it up. The man worked with wood. The last thing she wanted to do was waste it.

It did make her a little unsettled to hear the other part, though. “Um, and what do you mean exactly by not needing to interact? Like, you don’t want to see or hear from me?”

Harry paused, his gaze sharpening a little on the girl. He was used to being alone. He liked being alone. He didn’t want to come home to some sort of chatty roommate. “I mean exactly that.” He said gruffly.

“Oh.” She replied quietly, swallowing the lump on her throat. Her gaze averted when his sharpened on hers, looking towards her lap. He was a little intimidating and she felt embarrassed for some reason- but logically she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. Didn’t mean her body knew that, though.

“O-Okay. I’ll make sure to give you your space.” Her head nodded, convincing herself it would be good for her. Maybe akin to rejection therapy. She had hoped for something a little different, but this was the escape she had needed- she couldn’t complain. “Can you tell me what kind of foods you like, or don’t, so I can make what you’ll eat?”

Harry grunted, his expression relaxing slightly at the mention of food. He hated being bothered with small talk, but food was something he could appreciate- it was part of her job, anyways. He could talk abojt that. “I like meat and potatoes. Steak, roast chicken, mashed potatoes, that sort of thing. Don’t bother with fancy shit. Just straightforward, hearty food.”

He paused, thinking for a moment before continuing. “And coffee. Black coffee. None of that fancy latte crap. Just straight up coffee.” He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “That’s all you need to know for now. You can start preparing dinner and I’ll be back later.”

“Oh! I… are you sure?” She stood up too, following him. “Where should I put my things?” Part of her felt a little nervous she had fucked up with how fast he seemed to want to get out of there, but she didn’t know what she could have done to offend him. Was this just the way he was? Probably. She shouldn’t take it personally- but part of her did, just a bit. “I don’t know which room I should set my things up in.”

Harry turned around, his expression still stern. “You can set up in the spare room down the hall. It’s the first door on the right.” He pointed down the hallway before continuing. “I don’t need any help with my things. Just worry about your own shit for now.”

Her eyes fell down towards the floor, nodding at his words. It must just be the way he was, she concluded. He didn’t bother saying goodbye as she heard the door close, the ticking of the large grandfather clock in the den the only sound until the start of his pickup was muffled outside.

Who the hell was this man? And what had she gotten herself into?

[yearningandstillnotlearning]

𝑺𝑻𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻,

𝑮𝑬𝑻 𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑵.

A/N: okay bear with me, this is a ‘poem’ (i don’t know what else to call it) that i wrote and when i read over it i realised some girls here would appreciate this imagery with their own infatuations, so whilst its not written like fan-fiction i felt generous enough to share it and i hope at least 1 of you will like it, best part is that you can picture any one of your favourite girls!!! Instead of a name i call the other character “Pretty”, so keep that in mind while reading, and again, this isn’t written like fan-fiction, but still i would appreciate it if you gave it a shot and told me what you think ♡

tags: lesbian only, think anyone!, femme!r, metaphors, suggestive, nsfw undertones but they are so slight and hidden beneath the wordplay that i can’t really count this as nsfw, sadomasochistic in a way, did i forget something? Let me know!

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

I don’t want a cottage, i don’t want a life in simplicity and independency. I want a castle, i want an abandoned mansion adorned by vines hugging it long after solitude fell cold and loveless upon its very walls.

I want to hear the floors creak with every step, i want to hear the tremble of the floors effortlessly mirror the tremble of her legs, i want to have her, Pretty, and i want to keep her on her toes. I want, behind her gaze, to be as unpredictable as the grass around the mansion, a neglected ring of hues of green. Tall, short, eaten, rotten.

I want to give her the world, and i want to make her spin in the middle of it, i want to give her everything and make her feel like in a moment she could have nothing.

I want to make her dizzy and i want to make her euphoric, i want to see her scared and i want to hold her close, be the one to comfort her, Pretty.

I want our clothes to dance against each other when the weather drops and i take her out on walks, on the endless garden we’ve named ‘our hearts’ that no matter how long it’s been there for, untouched, unloved, uncared for, it just never seems to end.

I want her to let me tear her cotton fabrics apart and off, torn by grinding teeth and claw-like nails, hungry like a centuries-old vampire, lifetimes of self control and respect disintegrated in the very same time span Pretty’s clothes get ripped. Carefully laboured fabric, soft as freshly laved hair, made with the selfish, miserable thought of this granting them extra bread on their dinner plate.

And she would, she would let me tear her apart in one shared gaze. She would let me hold her and scratch her open, she would let me wound her because she knows i’ll be the one to heal her up again. And she knows i’ll do it before she can build the thought of asking me to.

She would let me darken her vision under the noon sun, heating and blinding. She would let me bruise her neck, violet splats trailing down her body like a rosemary. She would let me reach her depths and spin them around, it’d be nothing new to her, as long as her world is intertwined with mine she’s always spinning, she’s always dizzy. She would let me cradle her head as i treat her like fresh meat in aching, starved hands, because i’ve done so another hundred times, and each one she only seems more unwilted than the last.

Because she knows she’ll get me back.

Because she plans on making my darkest nights luminous, and she knows i’ll let her. The story is always the same; she unwraps me like a one-of-a-kind royal heirloom, her touches vigilant, precise on what she unfolds, what lies beneath her hands. And she knows i don’t fancy peace, her words forming clear juxtaposition to her touches, there are no blurred lines, my sense of touch and my sense of hearing are in two completely different words, and yet they co-exist in the pits of my stomach.

But like every child asking their parent to tell them a bedtime story, it doesn’t matter if its always the same, they always enjoy it the same. At the end of the day they fall asleep to it every time.

I’ll let her unwrap the lace off the corset, i’ll let her loosen every layer, watch the silks fall off my form, i’ll let her tell me the harshest things that leave my throat closing in on itself, as her hands soothe around my flesh getting me to ease up. She’ll rock me back and forth from being velvety to being cruel, i know it, and i will let her.

Because it takes two to dance, if you’re unable to match the other’s rhythm what’s the fun? It’s only enjoyable when you’re both having fun. 🫀

[s-brant]

Downburst

Trapped in King’s Landing with the Greens as they plot the usurpation after Viserys’s death, Y/N must navigate the fragile line between her loyalty to her husband and her contempt for his family. (or judas part six).

13k (18+)

Warnings: sexual content, strong language, fluff, angst, and death.

Y/N has been trapped in her and Aemond's bedchamber for hours.

No one has come to see her except for Nyla, her favorite handmaiden. Despite her pleas to the guard stationed outside her door, she is met with outright refusal to see her weeks-old daughter. There isn't much for her to do except pace around the room and nervously ramble to Nyla about what may be happening. In the past six hours, she has bathed, dressed, styled her hair, finished the blanket she was making for the babe before her labors began, and read a few pages of the book Aemond left on the table.

The braids secured to her head in complicated patterns keep her hair half-up, half-down and out of the way as she leans down to pick up a box of old letters from her parents. In this time of uncertainty, she seeks comfort in the love of those who brought her into the world. The letters date as far back as the first day she spent without them in King's Landing as a wife. The first one is from Rhaenyra, ever the attentive mother no matter how old her first and only daughter becomes.

She rifles through them until she finds the most recent one from Daemon. It is dated a fortnight before she gave birth and, as always, written in the family's native tongue to keep it from being read if it ended up in the wrong hands.

"Ñuha dōna riña,

Aōha muña vestās bona kesā rhaenagon sikagon aderī. Lo jaelā īlva naejot sagon paktot ao syt bisa, ao jorrāelagon mērī epagon. Aōha valzȳrys sȳrkta jurnegon tolī ao. Lo ziry gaomas daor, jikagon udir naejot Zaldrīzesdōron se kesan sōvegon bē Caraxes gō se vēzos ropagon ezīmagon se embar. Ao gīmigon iksan daor hae sacchārine hae Rhaenyra, yn gaoman bōsa naejot ūndegon ao arlī. Nyke krenyikhé umbagon syt se māzigon hen ñuha ēlī—"

"My sweet girl,

Your mother told me that you will begin your labors soon. If you want us to be beside you for this, you need only ask. Your husband best look after you. If he does not, send word to Dragonstone, and I will fly upon Caraxes before the sun falls into the sea. You know I am not as sentimental as Rhaenyra, but I do long to see you again. I gladly await the arrival of my first—"

The doors to their chambers are flung open, but the person who walks in is not the one she had hoped to see all day.

Seeing Alicent stride into their chambers, with the doors closing quickly behind her to prevent escape, makes her heart sink into her abdomen. Still, she refuses to accept this as defeat. She rises from her chair, holds her shoulders back with her chin high, and clenches her hands into fists at her sides. As far as she is concerned, this is an act of war. To imprison her in her own home...it is unthinkable.

Before the Queen can get a word in, Y/N asks in a sharp tone, "Where is my daughter?"

The sigh that Alicent lets out threatens to boil her blood.

"Please, you know that I of all people would never allow anything to happen to one of my grandchildren. So, if you fear she's been mistreated in any way—"

"She has been mistreated," the younger royal counters, taking a couple of steps forward to confront her face-to-face. "She is a weeks-old babe being kept from her mother against her will. Every pleading request I screamed through this door for her to be brought to me was met with silence and inaction. So, I beg of you, abandon the pretense. You are usurping my mother's throne and keeping my daughter as leverage for your cause."

This makes Alicent to stop for a moment.

The red-haired beauty takes this as an opportunity to steel herself for the arduous conversation ahead. Her palm flattens against the side of her green dress to soak up some sweat before she brings her hands together in front of herself, picking at her cuticles in a repetitive, compulsive manner.

"I know you will likely not believe what I have to say, but I have love for you. You are your mother's daughter. In a way, you are now my daughter too, I suppose. As you know, Rhaenyra and I were once the closest of friends. I myself said she'd make a fine queen the night my husband betrothed you to Aemond..." She trails off, looking down at the floor for a second before looking back up. "But I spoke with Viserys last night before he died in his sleep, and he spoke Aegon's name. He wanted him to be king, and I see no other choice but to honor his dying wish."

Y/N's face twists into an expression of bewilderment.

"You cannot believe that," she says. "My grandsire dragged himself, wheezing and weak on his deathbed, to his throne to declare for my mother as heir."

The two women stand across from one another, bisected by the window on the wall opposite the entrance that overlooks the courtyard, and neither wavers. Despite the turbulent emotions that dwell within them, they manage to stand strong against the tide of change cresting over them. With her pale hair styled as it is, the younger Targaryen princess reminds Alicent of her dear friend from many years ago. Time has changed both her and Rhaenyra, physically and spiritually, so she accepted that she would never have her closest companion back. Not in the way she had her as a girl. But when she looks at Rhaenyra's daughter, she almost sees her again. Almost.

It is for this reason alone that her demeanor softens as she walks forward to take Y/N's hand and speak to her once more.

"You may believe what you wish. I cannot take that from you, but whether you think it is right or not, Aegon will be crowned." There is a hesitant pause. "And you should consider yourself lucky I will not let my father get to him first. He'll advise Aegon to commit horrific acts of violence to protect his claim to the throne...Once he is found and brought to me, however, I will urge him to be merciful toward your mother, father, and brothers. They will be offered generous terms and need only bend the knee."

For a moment, she thinks she may have gotten through to Y/N. There is no discernible expression on her face other than shock, and she does not smack Alicent's hand where it squeezes hers.

Then, her features sour. Although she does not drop the hand entwined in hers, she does not hold it either. Her fingers turn lifeless and limp in Alicent's grasp.

"My father will never bend the knee to Aegon, and I do not know if Jacaerys will either. There is no such thing as mercy when dragons battle dragons. It is proven in Valyrian history, yet it seems that will become inevitable."

Unable to deny what she has said, too far gone in a mess of her father's making, Alicent lets loose a soft, tired sigh and gently releases her hands.

"Perhaps your father could be persuaded if he were under the assumption that you declare for Aegon as the true king at his coronation for the sake of keeping the peace. It will be witnessed by hundreds of the smallfolk on the morrow."

"And if I refuse? I would wager that I am worth more to you as a prisoner than I am hanged for so-called treason."

"You are my son's wife, a princess; you will not be a prisoner—"

Y/N cuts her off, her voice raising to a shout, "Then let me out!"

The moment of quiet that follows is charged with an energy too powerful for either of them to ignore. As Y/N's purple irises flare with a temper reminiscent of Rhaenyra's unyielding passion and Daemon's cold, seething rage, Alicent stands still before her. It is now that both women realize that nothing they say will change the other's mind. Despite the fondness they have genuinely formed through the marriage to Aemond, they now find themselves on opposite sides of the coming battle.

Picking at her nails again, Alicent speaks, and a sense of finality can be heard in her tone.

"My father would have me keep your babe from you until you agree to bend the knee. I, however, being a mother, find that too harsh. She will be brought to you within the hour, but you are not free to leave yet."

She turns on her heels and strides for the ornately carved doors, knocking to get the attention of the guard on the other side.

At the last moment, she cranes her neck to meet Y/N's eyes once more and says, "You will be at Aegon's coronation, standing beside your husband without protest."

A second later, the doors close behind her and lock the princess inside.

The babe has yet to stop crying.

All that can be heard in the bedchamber are the shrill wails of the infant girl brought to her hours ago by Nyla. It is bound to drive her insane. It does not matter what she does—feeding her, changing her, rocking or shushing her—nothing will suffice. Her head throbs from the mixture of stress and irritation. With one arm, she bounces Daenaera. With the other, she rubs the side of her head with her fingertips to keep the ache at bay. It doesn't work, however, and she is left with a pounding sensation in her skull that refuses to relent.

"Please, my love," she whispers in a soothing tone, "Muña iksis kesīr." Mother is here. "I may be frightened, but nothing will harm you under my watch."

The moment the last word escapes her lips, they are both surprised by the sound of the doors opening for a second time today.

Y/N, having just sworn to protect her daughter, quickly stands from the couch she had been sitting on uncomfortably to prepare herself. But there is no need. A glance at his face is all it takes for her to start walking across the room with tears flooding her eyes and the babe cradled against her chest.

"Aemond!" she calls out to him.

His eye hesitates for a second to raise and meet her gaze, but it does. Regardless of the emotions running rampant through him, the sight of her in tears is one he cannot ignore. Swiftly, they meet one another across the middle of the room, and he takes her into his arms without uttering a word. When she settles into his embrace, he can feel her trembling. All of that bravado his mother spoke of when she pulled him aside to inform him of their conversation is nowhere to be found. It only took one glance at him for her to let herself break apart.

And now, gently pressed between her parents, Daenaera's cries start to dwindle into a soft sniffling. For the first time in hours, both of his girls have found a moment of peace in his arms.

"I woke up, and you were gone!" Y/N exclaims between sobs. "They locked me in here and refused to let me see her."

"My mother said—"

"Your mother has gotten what she has always wanted, it seems." The words are harsh, but when she pulls away to look up at his face, her teary-eyed stare does not match them. "Even so, if it wasn't for her, Otto would have ensured that I be kept prisoner from our daughter until I bent the knee to Aegon and sent a raven urging my family to do the same."

His body turns stiff and still at this, and his face, as softened with emotion as he is capable of expressing, displays an unhinged ferocity that could frighten even the bravest of men.

"She did not tell me that."

Every word is said carefully, as if he fears speaking his mind too freely in front of her after all that has transpired since they last saw each other. It is clear that his grandsire has committed a grave error in holding their daughter against her will to sway Y/N's mind, but that is all she can gather, and it unsettles her. It took a long time, but he has become accustomed to sharing his thoughts and feelings with her. Since she found out she was with child, their relationship has blossomed into something neither of them could have seen coming. Something beautiful and rare in a realm where most noble women are content to be sold off by their fathers for the sake of survival.

Pushing this aside for now, she speaks in a quiet, eerily calm tone he recognizes well.

"If she is ever taken from me again, I will kill them all. I swear this to you." The look in her eye is crazed and wild, the reaction of a mother lashing out to protect her child. Not once does she let him escape her stare. "I'll leave with her on dragonback if I must."

"You will not leave with her."

It is an order, not a request. In any other moment, she would protest the notion that he has any authority over her, but she is too perplexed to speak right now. Thankfully, she does not need to. Instead, she watches him closely and tries to read him as he mulls it over in his head. After a moment, he shakes his head and tightens the grip of the hand resting on her waist.

"There will be no reason to...Leave Otto to me."

He is already pulling back to leave and confront his grandsire for what he has done, but the feeling of her hand around his wrist halts him before any distance can be made. With his back to her, he intends to yank himself out of her grasp, but then she yells at him. Somehow, her words manage to melt through his cold exterior and bring him back from the precipice of madness.

"No, don't leave us! She needs you!"

After a moment, the sound of Daenaera's slowed cries finally outmatches the ringing in his ears. Another couple of seconds pass, and he takes a heavy breath to steady himself before turning to face them. What he sees causes him to let loose a heavy breath. Tears shine in his dear wife's eyes as she holds their babe flush against her body with trembling hands. Her arms are so sore from bouncing and rocking the child all day that she can hardly stand it any longer.

Knowing this, Aemond reaches out and takes their daughter from her arms without hesitation. She squirms and coos at first, startled by the sudden movement, but calms down the second she realizes who is holding her. Still, he mutters sweet nothings against her head in Valyrian, inhaling the distinct, clean scent that somehow only infants have.

When his eye finds hers again, the first tear has fallen off her chin.

"And so do I," she says.

The hand hanging at his side raises to cup her face and wipe away the tracks of tears sliding down her rosy cheeks with his thumb. His touch is ever so slight, like a feather brushing against her skin. It is contrary to how he typically handles her with confidence and bold familiarity but welcome nonetheless.

"You have me," he responds, and he says it so softly, so gently, that she starts to believe it. In the face of everything that has happened and now will happen, she remains blinded by her devotion to him. "Kesā va moriot emagon nyke." You will always have me.

Y/N smiles through her tears, and Aemond is once again stunned by the fact that there is nothing that can make her appear less than perfect for him. She is pretty even when she cries. Yet, the tender moment is soon interrupted by her need for answers.

"Where did you go today? If you didn't know what was going on here, you must have been elsewhere."

In lieu of answering her question, he first decides to find a place to sit before starting this conversation. It would be awkward, he thinks, to stand here holding the babe while he debriefs her on the mission his mother sent him on this morning. He decides that the couch will do just fine, turning and walking toward it with one arm holding Daenaera and the other hand guiding Y/N.

After settling down on the couch, Aemond's hand finds its way to her waist. He pulls her close until she is pressed up to his side. The touch of his rough hand against her body is both comforting and familiar, his grasp on her almost desperate...as if he cannot bear to let her go. In one arm, he holds his wife. In the other, he holds his daughter.

There's a tense moment of silence, then he speaks. His voice is low, tinged with a hint of frustration.

"Mother sent me on an errand," he explains. "I left you to train with Cole as I do every day, but she had the guards intercept me on my walk to the yard. Father died, and, of course, Aegon was nowhere to be found. If anything can be counted upon, it is his appetite for fucking disease-ridden whores in Fleabottom rather than remaining with his wife and children for any longer than he's required."

She swallows thickly as he speaks, her hand braced against her chest. What she is bracing for, she does not know, but with all that has transpired today, she refuses to lower her guard. As much as she wants to have hope, to look on the bright side of things, she knows she must prepare herself for the cold bite of reality.

Aemond can feel her tension secondhand—a coiled rope ready to snap at the slightest pull of the thread that holds it together. He is painfully aware of how much he mislikes seeing her in distress. To see her bright, lively eyes dimmed by worry does little to mollify the anger that still roils within him from the thought of their babe being kept from her all day. To imagine the sound of Daenaera crying, her shrill wails piercing the ears of the handmaidens when all she wanted was to be with her mother...

"Go on," she says.

The expression on her face is unable to be read despite his best efforts. Yet, even as she forces a neutral expression, her body language tells a different story. Her shoulders are taut, her back straight, and her hands tightly clenched in her lap.

"I was sent to find Aegon," he says, his voice soft yet somehow firm. "Mother feared that Otto might find him first and urge him to put Rhaenyra and all of her heirs to the sword without offering a chance to bend the knee." As he emphasizes the word "all," he looks into her eyes, and for the first time in years, she sees fear when she meets his gaze. "I know it was not easy for you to stay here, alone, but if I did not find him first..."

One of the hands clenched into a fist on her lap reaches out to touch him, offering a sense of comfort as she rubs his back in a repetitive, soothing motion.

"Your grandsire would have me killed?" she finishes for him. "So he can hold our daughter hostage her entire life and indoctrinate her into supporting Aegon's claim?"

His eye is overflowing with a storm of emotions, a tumultuous mix of fear and madness. But when her hand finds its way to his back, his muscles involuntarily start to relax, the tension unknotting under her healing touch.

He nods carefully, and the act of doing so makes the words all the more real. "Yes," he says. "Now that my mother has gotten to Aegon first, it seems he intends to use our girl to ensure your compliance rather than strike you down outright."

"That much I gathered myself," she says sharply, then shakes her head in disbelief. A second later, she continues to prod him for answers. "So you found Aegon, then?"

"Yes," he replies. His hand clutches at the soft fabric of the couch as he speaks, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. He found his brother, but what good is that when the fate of his wife and daughter hangs in the balance? "I did. Otto sent Erryk and Arryk to find him. Find him, they did. Before they could bring him back, we saw Aegon running from the Sept. It took little effort to catch him while Cole kept the guards busy."

There's nothing she can do to soothe herself but take Daenaera from his arms and hold on tightly. Her tiny head is supported in the bend of her arm, and the little girl does not protest. Her father is still close enough for her to remain calm and satisfied.

He opens his eye and looks at her, his gaze intense beneath his brow.

"We brought him back to Alicent. She's having him locked in his chambers till morning," he explains, his eye boring into hers. "It will happen, ābrazȳrys." Wife. "Any chance of stopping it is gone...Aegon will be king. The best you can do is comply."

The words make her sick to her stomach.

Everything she has always feared is coming to fruition, and here she is, powerless in every conceivable way. Every word, every breath, every move she makes will be watched as long as she remains in the Keep. There will be no freedom, she realizes. Soon, this room will be her prison for the rest of her life. Never again will she soar the skies on dragonback and savor the cold wind against her face. Never again will she return to Dragonstone to kiss her mother and embrace her father. Her heart breaks at the thought of not being able to see her brothers again. If she had known what would happen, she would have spent far more time with them when they visited.

Her eyes glaze over at this point, her gaze far away and hazy. She is looking right through him.

His gaze softens when he catches sight of the discomfort on her pretty face. He reaches out and takes her hand in his, his fingers wrapping around hers with a tenderness that is so unlike him when it comes to anyone but her. He lifts her hand to his mouth and brushes a kiss over each of her knuckles. Then, he brings her hand against him, her palm over his chest, to feel the heavy beat of his heart in the hope that it may snap her out of her thoughts.

"It will be alright," he says even though he does not know if it's true.

Aemond brings his other hand up to cup her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek. If he could, he would take her away from all of this. To a world where it is just the three of them—him, her, and the babe. But he can't. For now, all he can do is offer her the comfort of her husband's presence. At least she knows that no harm will befall her as long as she remains by his side.

"Listen to me," he whispers, his voice stern in a way that instinctively compels her to hear him out. "You will attend the coronation at my side. You will do so not out of loyalty to Aegon but out of loyalty to me."

Tears well up in her eyes at the mere thought of betraying her mother, even if the support she will be showing is feigned, and she starts to shake her head as she cries.

"No." She tries to scoot away from him with the babe still cradled in her arm. "My love, I cannot. I cannot! Please, I want to go home! To Dragonstone! I want my mother—"

"Enough!"

His voice is sharper than the swift crack of a whip. The forcefulness of it makes her freeze, her body running cold as her instincts tell her to obey. He has commanded her with that same tone a few other times throughout their marriage, but never has it felt so chilling. If she didn't know any better, she would mistake that feeling in the pit of her abdomen for fear. Not of the unimaginable situation at hand but of him.

For all she talks, she crumbles beneath the pressure behind closed doors and calls for her mother like a frightened little girl.

"You will not leave my side," he all but growls the words.

His hand still grasps her face, his fingers digging deep into her skin. Of course, he never wants to hurt her, not if he can help it, but he refuses to let her withdraw.

"Cry if you must," he tells her. "I will not leave you here alone. Mourn tonight. On the morrow, you must pretend. You cannot let anyone other than myself see you this way. Do you understand?"

"No! I most certainly do not understand, Aemond! How can you ask this of me? How can you ask me to stand there and do nothing as they place my mother's crown—my birthright—upon his head?"

She continues to try and pull away from him, her body caving in on itself with sobs, but he holds her tighter the more she resists.

"Calm yourself," he warns her.

He has never seen her like this—broken and weeping and weak. It is jarring to see her so far removed from the willful woman he married. The woman who held a knife to his throat with a promise to kill the last time he laid a hand on her younger brother. He has never seen her this way and prays he never will again, not only for her sake but for his. To see her suffer is utter agony. It's not something he thinks he can endure more than this one time.

He threads his fingers through the overgrown strands of her silver hair, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He lowers his voice, speaking as softly as he can to her now that he has taken a moment to compose himself.

"You have to think about Daenaera," he says, his mouth against her hair. "You are her mother. She comes before all else. She is your duty."

The sudden reminder of their daughter has the effect he intended. Her body goes still, the sobs that were tearing through her beginning to quiet. His fingers run through her hair repeatedly in an attempt to soothe her, and it seems to work. At least for the time being.

She goes silent for a long time, her breath ragged and uneven against his chest. When she finally speaks, her voice breaks from the endless sobs that have plagued her since she woke this morning.

"I don't know if I can..."

Aemond simply says, "You must."

For the duration of the jolting carriage ride to the Dragonpit, Y/N sits in silence with Aemond on her right side and Helaena to her left.

The only indicator of her emotions that he can pick up on is how she nervously twists her wedding band around her left ring finger, toying with it incessantly to give herself something to do in a moment where she is powerless. If not for her unwavering faith in Nyla, he would not have been able to convince her to leave their daughter behind for the sake of attending the coronation.

Not even his best attempts at placating her worked. It was only when the plain-featured, frail servant girl walked up to her, took her hands in hers, and promised her the babe would never leave her arms that she allowed the others to help her dress. And that was another battle entirely—the dress.

As he looks her up and down out of the corner of his eye, he must clench his jaw in frustration.

The only gown she would wear is, unsurprisingly, black. The neckline is embroidered with threads of red and gold hues, and the bodice covered in pieces of fabric fashioned to appear as dragon scales. The same unflinching tenacity that allowed him to fall for her now smacks him across the face, and he cannot be mad at her for it. In some twisted fashion, it endears her to him further. To see that she is not so easily conquered, not willing to go down without a fight, makes his stomach flutter like it had the night of their wedding. Even when it is he and his family that she opposes, he cannot help but admire her refusal to surrender.

Out of the blue, as though she has read his mind, Helaena speaks in her typical soft and whimsical tone.

"I quite like your dress. Dragon scales..." A small smile crosses her face, then she says a bit more resolutely than before, "Beware the beast beneath the boards."

Unsure of how to respond, especially seeing that most of the family ignores the strange things Helaena says from time to time, Y/N simply nods and reaches to entwine their hands.

"Thank you, sister," she whispers. "And I shall."

Before Aemond can warn her not to do so, to tell Y/N that she does not like to be touched and often flinches from physical contact, Helaena's smile widens a little as she allows her hand to be held. If he hadn't found his wife's existence confounding already, this would do the trick. He may never come to understand how, but she has a way with people and things that he does not. Mayhaps it is a blessing from the Gods. As if her beauty, wit, and strong heart were not blessings enough.

Before he knows it, the carriage comes to a gentle halt, and he is brought back from his thoughts by the sound of the smallfolk chattering within and beyond the walls of the Dragonpit.

As Helaena is aided in stepping out of the carriage, Y/N turns to him and says quietly, "I will comply. Not because I believe Aegon to be the true heir. Not because I want to. Not because I am not angry with your mother for supplanting mine own as heir. But because I love you."

This vulnerable admission makes him falter for a second, his frustration melting and his harsh features softening. It's the first time she has said it like that. She has called him "my love" many times, but this is the first time she has said those three words.

"I know..." he whispers, not quite ready to say it back.

All she can manage is a nod in his direction before she is ushered from the safety of the carriage by members of the Kingsguard.

Aemond follows closely behind her, his hand hovering over the pommel of his sword like a hound ready to attack as they are escorted into the Dragonpit. While they make their way through the room, following behind the rest of his family, he notes how the smallfolk stare at his wife with expressions of shock and awe. Their gazes linger, and whispers fill the air as they watch her walk through the parted crowd, the sun shining against her from behind to set her silver hair aflame.

The second he stares back at them, their eyes avert to the floor in what most would assume is a display of respect for the Gods that walk among men. A sign that years of propaganda intended to keep those with the blood of the dragon on a pedestal above the rest has worked. In truth, Aemond in particular falls victim to the illusion of Targaryen exceptionalism more so than his wife, but it does not blind him to the fact that these people in particular are not avoiding his gaze out of respect. They do it out of fear, and he cannot deny the sick sense of pleasure it gives him to witness that.

Quicker than she anticipated, they reach the platform where Otto, Alicent, Cole, and Helaena await their arrival, and Aemond silently offers his hand to her once they reach the small set of stairs leading up. She takes his hand gratefully and prays it may steady her for the nauseating turn of events that have come to pass. At the last step, his grip on her hand loosens like he intends to let go, but she does not let him. Her fingers, adorned with rings in a fashion reminiscent of her mother, close tightly around his as their hands fall back to their sides.

Even after they fall into place, standing in a line alongside his family, she does not let go of his hand.

Aemond's eye flits down to their joined hands, fighting the urge to raise his brows in surprise at the display she is giving everyone. Yet he does not pull his hand away. Instead, he gives hers a comforting squeeze.

As his gaze moves from their hands to her face, he notices the tightness in her clenched jaw and the tension in her stiff posture. He knows she is struggling to maintain her composure, to keep herself in one piece in the face of what might as well be the end of the world as she knows it. But he also knows that she is strong, fiercely so, and not so easily defeated.

Otto begins a speech to the people once they've all settled, his voice echoing in the wide-open walls of the room.

"Today is the saddest of days!" he shouts. "Our beloved king, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead!"

The sounds of shock and sorrow that reverberate through the room in the second after it is announced are surprisingly filled with emotion—as if these people knew him personally.

"But it is also the most joyous of days. For as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish that his firstborn son, Aegon, should succeed him."

Otto's last few words act as a cue for the fanfare to begin and the guards to raise their swords together as they part the crowd, clearing a path for the soon-to-be king. Across the wide-open interior of the Dragonpit, sudden movement catches her eye from where she stands atop the platform. True to her word, she does not balk at the sight of Aegon appearing at the entrance to the room. Passing beneath the raised swords, he looks ahead with a blank expression in his eyes.

"It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this. A new day for our city. A new day for our realm. A new king to lead us."

Her hand does not grip Aemond's tighter, nor does it let go as they watch her eldest uncle make his way through the crowd acting like he is walking to his death. One would think he's to meet the hangman's noose atop this platform. It takes everything in her not to scoff at his attitude. Grandsire and mother dearest have placed him upon the Iron Throne, and he can't even pretend to care. Beside her, she knows that her husband is tense with anticipation of her doing or saying something, but she minds herself. She tries her best to be an obedient little wife, a puppet dancing on strings held tightly in the grasp of Ser Otto Hightower, and it is difficult.

Finally, Aegon has ascended the stairs to join them.

He comes to a natural stop before his mother, and she gently takes his face in her soft hands, guiding his head down until she places a kiss on the top of it. Once they have parted, all it takes is a firm look from Otto for him to sink to his knees with his back facing the crowd.

Septon Eunace is, of course, waiting for this moment. A moment that will surely go down in history, not as one of joy or triumph but of defeat. It signifies the end of a peaceful time. The reigns of both Jaehaerys and Viserys were without war and widespread destruction. The same cannot be said for what is to come.

Under her breath, she whispers, "Kostagon ñuha muña gūrogon arlī skoros iksis zȳhon lēda Perzys Ānogār." May my mother take back what is hers with fire and blood.

Aemond's posture stiffens at the sound of her quiet voice.

No one around them, save for Helaena, shall know what she just uttered except for him. Everyone else standing around them could not speak or understand the native language of their ancestors, and the crowd before them would not hear her even if she spoke in the common tongue. Few may have witnessed her moving lips, but only he hears her. Is it a threat or prayer? He does not know.

"May the Warrior give him courage," the Septon speaks aloud as he anoints Aegon with oil. "May the Smith lend strength to his sword and shield. May the Father defend him in his need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light his way to wisdom."

He then hands the bowl off to another in exchange for the crown. Not the crown of the conciliator. The crown of the Conqueror. Valyrian steel, fitted with a ruby at the center, gleams beneath the light as Septon Eunace takes the crown into his hands and turns to give it to Ser Criston Cole.

No doubt smug with the sweet taste of victory over her mother, Criston thrusts it into the air and declares, "The crown of the Conqueror, passed down through generations."

At the last moment, Y/N allows her hand to slip from her husband's clutches.

"Let the Seven bear witness," Criston proclaims as he lowers it onto Aegon's head. "Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne."

With that, the young king, born anew beneath the weight of the steel sitting upon his brow, rises.

"All hail his Grace, Aegon, Second of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!"

The bells toll so loudly it threatens to rattle their teeth.

"Aegon the King!"

At first, there is silence, and everyone is unsure what to make of it. But then, most of the spectators packed too tightly into the room begin to applaud him. When he draws Blackfyre from its sheath, there is nothing Y/N can do but look ahead at those who cheer with tears shining in her eyes. To her left, she sees Alicent looking at her from the corner of her eye with a face of disappointment. Her stifled cries must have drawn her proud gaze away from her eldest son, now anointed before his subjects and crowned king.

"Worry not, child, he will spare your mother," Alicent whispers under her breath.

Before she can turn to watch her son raise his sword in triumph, Y/N says softly, but not weakly, "It is you who ought worry."

A look of horror flashes across Alicent's face.

The sound of the crowd roaring, chanting, and clapping for her son does little to distract her from the conviction with which those words were spoken. But she doesn't have the chance to respond. No, because the floor beneath the crowd explodes with a cloud of debris that hangs in the air and causes Y/N to stumble back in surprise.

She almost trips over her own feet, but a pair of strong hands quickly snatch up her waist to keep her upright. Her back hits his chest, a solid wall behind her that does not flinch at what she now realizes is a dragon bursting through the floor of the pit.

Aemond stands stock-still, his grip on her waist tight as the dust and debris settle. For a moment, his heart is in his throat, his mind fighting to process what just happened. And then, as the dust clears, he sees it—a dragon with crimson scales and copper horns. The beast shakes off the dirt and rubble, gazing around with a glare that promises violence should anyone dare to approach.

Before the rest of them can catch a glimpse of the woman perched in the saddle atop the she-dragon's back, his wife says with a wavering tone of shock, "Rhaenys..."

"Seize her!" Otto commands, pointing at Y/N.

Not willing to risk it, he has Ser Criston Cole haul her from her husband's arms and drag her up before Meleys—a shield to protect Alicent and King Aegon's fear-stricken forms from the threat of dragonflame. It is a stroke of genius that infuriates her equally as much as it impresses her. The only people left to keep Aemond from rushing after her are Septon Eunace and Otto himself, who manages well enough on his own to block him by ordering him to protect Queen Helaena.

Meleys advances until she is far too close and unleashes a furious roar that blows Y/N's hair off her shoulders. Still, she doesn't look away. She knows Rhaenys well enough to know that she will not slaughter them outright, especially not with her standing front and center.

The Queen Who Never Was remains silent when their gazes meet. She does not have to utter a word. Even with the smallfolk fleeing in terror for the doors to the Dragonpit and Otto screaming for them to be let out, everything is understood. Everything left unspoken can be felt like a current of energy buzzing between them, and the tears streaming down Y/N's cheeks are more powerful than words could ever be.

Then, as quickly as she burst through the floor, Meleys retreats, claws digging into the ground beneath her to help her turn around and take flight.

All they can hear over the sound of the injured and dying scattered across the broken floor is the sound of wings flapping in the sky.

Y/N picks at her lip as she sits outside the small council chamber six days after Aegon's coronation. It's easy to hear the muffled sound of voices within, but hearing what exactly they're saying proves to be a great deal more difficult.

The aftermath of what happened in the Dragonpit was chaotic. As soon as Meleys flew off, Aemond rushed from Helaena's side to where his wife stood before them all. Seeing that there were still people watching, he couldn't grab her face in his hands and pull her to him. Public displays of affection have never been his forte. At most, they hold hands or he keeps his hand on the small of her back as they walk. Ignoring the eyes that followed him with every step he took, he held both of her hands in his and looked her over to see if she was alright.

Knowing him too well, she said before he had the chance to ask, "I am unharmed." Her hands squeezed his. "Lykiri, ñuha zaldrīzes." Calm, my dragon.

The entire carriage ride back to the Keep, he did not let go of her. Sweet reassurances were whispered in her ear—in Valyrian, of course, to prevent Aegon from overhearing and taunting him for it later—and she managed to stop crying after a few moments.

Once they arrived, Aemond made sure to help Y/N down, keeping her close to him, not wanting to let go for fear of what may happen if he did. He saw his brother lingering nearby, and they shared a knowing look. Aegon nodded toward him in a silent expression of concern.

"Come," Aemond said, his grip on her tightening as they trailed after Alicent and Otto.

The very second they crossed the threshold into the Keep, he pulled Ser Criston aside to entrust him with the task of escorting her to their chambers.

"No," she retorted and pulled on her husband's arm, "I want to go with you."

"I do not want you to hear what I have to say to my grandsire, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys." My sweet wife.

A look toward Criston showed he shared the prince's opinion as he nodded and said, "Such words are not fit for the ears of a highborn lady with delicate sensibilities."

It took all the strength she had not to roll her eyes at the implication of his words, and she simply ignored the knight in favor of looking up at her husband.

Aemond said, "I simply wish to settle this matter myself."

And she obliged.

Even now, as she sits and awaits the end of the meeting when her husband will finally be free to leave with her, she does not know what happened after Criston escorted her to Maegor's Holdfast. Whatever he said, it must have been enough to put Otto in his place regarding his treatment of her since Viserys died. The older man made it clear in his expression that it isn't something he goes along with happily, but Alicent is now the one who oversees his wife when Aemond is not present.

The freedom she was once afforded has been ripped away in the blink of an eye. Being the daughter of the enemy, she is under constant supervision. Alicent's orders appointed Criston Cole as her "sworn protector"—prison guard, more like—and he stands beside her now.

With a glance at him out of her peripheral vision, she gathers that he cannot hear what is being said in the small council room either, and it leaves him visibly irritated.

"Do you think Otto has reached Dragonstone yet?" she asks suddenly. "He left three days ago. Surely he must be there by now..."

There's a moment of hesitation, but he eventually responds.

"You know as much as I do, Princess. We can only pray for his safe return. There's no telling what Daemon may do."

To this, she cannot help but chuckle in amusement, and it becomes apparent now more than ever that she is, in fact, the daughter of the rogue prince.

"Mind your tongue, Ser Criston," she says with a haughty air of authority much like her father. "Prince Daemon."

The knight can do none else but swallow his pride. She is, after all, his superior, and she is right. Only in the privacy of his conversations with Aemond and Alicent can he speak freely.

"Apologies, my lady, for my lack of...formality."

The doors are flung open.

Aemond steps out of the small council room, his face set in a cold expression. His hands are clasped behind his back, but they are clenched tightly. The meeting had gone just as he knew it would.

He turns his gaze to Y/N, and a slight relaxation settles within him. Seeing her waiting for him is like taking a breath of fresh air or feeling the wind against his face when he rides the skies atop Vhagar, and it doesn't come a moment too soon.

"You are dismissed, Cole," he says as he walks past.

The act itself is a silent command for her to follow, and she does. His presence is a vast step up from that of her sworn sword. At least her husband is smart enough not to taunt her at a stressful time like this by speaking ill of her father.

They remain quiet on the walk to their chambers. It has become routine for them to make this walk in silence after he leaves meetings with the small council, to wait until nobody can overhear to speak about what may happen next as they wait for word from Otto and his men. It's a sense of structure she cannot help but cling to amidst the constant uncertainty. And, at the very least, she is thankful that Aemond trusts her enough to confide in her still. Even though everyone else regards her as a spy behind enemy lines, he doesn't. Not yet.

When the doors to their chambers close behind them, his emotionless facade disappears. With only her to witness it, the anger and frustration he feels come to the surface.

"What happened in there?"

Just as he opens his mouth to speak Nyla makes her presence known before she can be found out by the prince and accused of trying to eavesdrop.

"I am sorry, your Grace," she announces her presence with a dip of her head and moves away from where she'd been warming bathwater by the fire. "I will leave at once."

Aemond considers this, then decides against it.

"No. Finish your duties, girl." A sharp look from his wife, a reminder to treat her more kindly, makes him pause for a moment before finishing a touch softer. "You may leave once the bath is filled for my wife."

"Thank you," Y/N adds.

Aemond takes his time to undo his leather doublet, the tension in his shoulders visible under the fabric before he unceremoniously yanks it from his body. He rolls his shoulders a couple of times to relieve some of the stiffness, craning his neck until he hears a slight cracking sound that is swiftly followed by a sigh of relief. His annoyance is plain to see when he tosses the doublet on the couch.

Her eyes track his every movement, and the sound of Nyla's humming in the background filling the gaps of silence during which they don't speak.

He tells her, "Iksan issare jittan naejot jelmāzma mōris naejot mazverdagon iā dīnilūks rȳ Daeron se mēre hen Barāthēon riñi." I am being sent to Storm's End to arrange a marriage between Daeron and one of the Baratheon girls.

"Sīr skoro syt issi ao ribazmoqitta?" So why are you frustrated?

The only part she leaves out is a taunting reminder that Borros Baratheon's father swore fealty when her mother was named heir all those years ago. Hopefully a marriage pact with a third son is not incentive enough for oaths to be broken. But, still, in another language or not, she'd rather not argue in front of Nyla.

"Kesrio syt issa doru-borto, se ziry gaomas daor gūrogon ziry." Because he is stupid, and he does not deserve it.

"Nūmāzma jēda ao ūndegon va." About time you caught on. She says the next sentence in the common tongue, not caring since Nyla has no context for it, "You speak of something we already know."

Y/N comes up behind him and slides her hands up his back, feeling the warmth of his skin through his clothing. The sensation of her touch makes his eye flutter shut in appreciation, and his mouth tilts up at each end in a slight smile. Slowly, her hands descend until they reach the hem of the plain shirt that sits at his hips. It would be inappropriate to undress him in front of a servant, so she opts for slipping her fingers underneath his shirt to massage his back. It's easy to tell just from an exploratory touch that his muscles are tense from the stress of the week since Viserys died.

"Naenie kessa sagon mundagon skori pōja kepa morghūljagon." Many would be sad when their father dies. A pause. "Nyke āryon daorun." I feel nothing.

It is no secret that King Viserys favored his firstborn daughter over the rest of his children. She always knew this. She saw it in how he cared for her mother—or, perhaps, the glimpses of Aemma he saw in her mother—but to see the impact it had on the rest of his children firsthand colors all of those fond memories of him in a bad light. Flaws and all, if her father were to die today, she would weep and mourn him as most would someone so close to them. But her husband does not mourn his father. Not in any way she recognizes as being normal.

Her thumbs dig into the muscles on either side of his spine at the southernmost point of his back.

"Tis understandable," she says softly. "Ziry gōntan daor ivestragī ao gīmigon zirȳla sȳrī." He did not let you know him well.

For a while, they remain this way, standing in silence as she massages his back for him and he lets out little sighs of relief to show his gratitude. They are so focused on this, trapped in their own world, that they don't notice Nyla preparing to leave until she is standing at the door with one hand on the handle and the other holding the empty bucket brought to warm the bathwater.

It is Y/N who sees her. All she needs to do is nod once to dismiss the girl, and she is gone before Aemond can open his eye. The only thing that alerts him to this is the sound of the door closing in her wake.

The hands massaging him stop in their tracks.

"Come with me," she instructs. "Let's clean up before you leave."

Their footfalls are quiet as she leads him from the couch to the large, copper tub filled with hot water. A familiar aromatic scent invades her nostrils, bringing a smile to her face because Nyla remembered her favorite bathing oil and mixed it into the water before she left. Soon, their clothes are left in a messy pile on the floor that another servant will have to collect after dinner, his eyepatch discarded next to them, and they sink into the steaming water together.

Aemond settles with his back against the tub, one hand still holding hers as she steps in and sits in front of him. Her hair falls down her back with the ends soaking in the water. There's no sign of her typical braided hairstyle today, so he wastes little time in grabbing the small pitcher set aside for them and using it to pour water over her head. One hand guides her head into a tilted-back position until her hair is fully saturated and ready to wash with her precious lemon and lavender soap from Lys.

One time, as a small girl, Daemon gifted her a bar of it after he visited with Laena from Essos. She may not have known for certain that he was her father at that age, but she cherished the gift regardless. For the years since, the soap has been delivered to her by ship every moon.

"You were right," she says.

His hands work the soap through her hair and rub her scalp the same way she did to his back.

"About?"

"About Aegon. He is unfit for the role that has been thrust upon him."

There's an obvious tone of resentment to what she says, and it's a sentiment he shares, although the cause of it is different. For him, he resents Aegon for being born first. For having everything he has ever wanted handed to him and turning his nose up at it. For her, she resents Aegon for the actions of his scheming grandsire and his mother who happily played along. For letting them use him to steal his sister's birthright. For Aegon, all he ever wanted was someone to love him, and if that love couldn't be found within his family, he would seek it elsewhere.

"You should see him in the council meetings," Aemond says. "He hasn't a clue what to do. Just sits there like a confused child while the rest of us talk."

She hesitates for a second before pointing out, "Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing..."

His silence is a signal for her to elaborate.

"If he is as unfit to rule as we think, it may be a good thing to let him sit aside while those better suited for the job do the heavy lifting. That is if you consider any of the traitorous fools on that council to be fit for the job."

He goes still.

"We have been through this, ābrazȳrys. I had no hand in what my mother and grandsire did..." Wife.

"But you do not care. If anything, you curse the Gods for not making you the firstborn son so you could have been the one they crowned in her stead."

In response to this, he just sighs and reaches for the pitcher to get the soap out of her hair. It takes a couple of rinses for it to sit in the form of bubbles at the surface of the water, but it eventually washes out.

"Wash my hair?" he asks, not wanting to acknowledge what she said if it means quarreling with her before he leaves. "Do not worry, I wouldn't dream of stealing your special soap. You may use the other one on me."

Wordlessly, she reaches to take her favorite soap from his hand and moves to crawl onto his lap.

The water sloshes with her movements, and when she straddles his hips, she can feel his cock half-hard against her. With the changes that have wreaked havoc on her body in the aftermath of pregnancy and childbirth, she questioned whether or not he would find her as attractive as he once did. Needless to say, it pleases her to know that he still cannot resist the sight of her bare body before him.

Those strong, callused hands find purchase on her plush hips to keep her in place and prevent her from leaving now that she has gotten so close to him. He closes his eye, breathing in deep, and allows himself to relax against the hard wall of the bathtub. He listens as his wife washes his hair, the small splashes and the soft scent filling the air. Her hands are gentle as she works. Her touch is tender and reverent. In truth, Aemond finds her touch to be soothing. Any anger that sparked from what she said is softened by the feeling of her body pressed against his.

"Ao jurnegon sīr gevie hae bisa," Y/N whispers. You look so beautiful like this. "Lēda daorun naejot ruaragon aōha laehurlion hen nyke." With nothing to hide your face from me.

She dunks the pitcher into the bath to collect enough water to rinse the soap out. Her fingers run through his hair with every pitcher she carefully pours over his head. It isn't until she puts it to the side and wipes the water from his face that he opens his eye to look at her. When he does, she is staring at him longingly—as if he is not a cold, disfigured man who most women turn away from. It is not lost on him that he isn't the easiest person to love. If anything, he has always been painfully aware.

"Se ra jaelan naejot gaomagon naejot ao..." he trails off. The things I want to do to you right now...

Their faces inch closer and closer with each passing second, and before they meet in the middle, she murmurs, "Tōma tolī tubissa." Five more days.

His lips are soft against hers. The instant they touch, she can feel the hands on her hips squeeze to absentmindedly pull her closer. She presses a palm to his chest and feels the hard pounding of his heart as they deepen the desperate kiss. He follows her lead, chasing her whenever she pulls away with a hunger that sets his blood aflame.

"So sensitive," she croons and grinds against him.

The feeling of his cock sliding against her wet folds elicits a soft moan from the back of his throat. It takes a few seconds, but he manages to control himself and uses the hands on her hips to keep her from moving again.

"No. We have waited this long."

"Five days might as well be an eternity, Aemond, I want you now..."

If he were standing, he's certain what she just said would make him weak in the knees, but it won't make him throw caution to the wind and fuck her when her body is not ready for it. He shakes his head and lifts one of his hands to grab her chin, forcing her to pull away enough to let him see her face.

Gods, he looks handsome right now, she thinks. With his hair wet and unbound, it falls around his face in a way she only sees in the privacy of their bedchamber. Then, there's that sapphire gleaming in his scarred eye socket. There's something about his beauty that is so haunting, so unusual, so statuesque. The very image of ethereal Valyrian beauty.

He looks into her eyes as he says, "It will pass quicker than you expect. The very moment those days are up, I will do everything I've dreamt of doing these past five weeks."

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and warns him with an exaggerated pout, "Do not tease me."

His response is immediate.

"Not a tease, a promise."

As he says this, the door to their room creaks open, and a nursemaid stands in the entryway. The babe's cries are enough to capture the attention of both parents, who abruptly cease their playful banter to look at the servant standing with her eyes averted from their naked bodies. Her face is flushed a deep shade of scarlet. As soon as she realized what they were doing, she turned her face away.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Your Graces, but she keeps crying and we are running out of ways to soothe her. I was told to ask if you would like to try."

Sighing, she scoots off of his lap.

"Bring her, then. I shall take her."

The girl nods, trying to summon the nerve to intrude on their private affair, then walks from the door to the bath. Y/N reaches out to take the babe into her arms, shushing her as she cries and cradling her little body to her chest. The servant does not dare to look at Aemond One-Eye. No, her gaze remains fixed on the floor where his eyepatch sits. What might he do if she looks at him in this state? She does not wish to stay and push her luck.

"May I please be dismissed, Princess?"

"You may."

The speed with which she scurries off has Y/N fighting the urge to laugh, but she maintains enough self-control to wait until the door shuts before erupting into an uncontrollable bout of giggles.

"Stop it," Aemond says, his mouth twitching as he stifles his laughter. "Quit laughing at me, woman."

"Skoros gōntan gaomā naejot mazverdagon zirȳla sīr zūgagon hen ao?" What did you do to make her so scared of you?

Seeing her like this—laughing with her hair wet and their babe nestled into her chest, little hands grasping at her skin—is how he imagines the smallfolk feel witnessing the otherworldly presence and power of the dragons when they fly over the city.

"Mayhaps it is because of this"—a gesture to his face—"Most ladies, noble and common alike, are frightened of me," he muses, stating it like it is an unavoidable fact of life because it is. Ever since that day at Driftmark, people have treated him differently. He adds the next part with a soft smile, a rare sight for most who know him, "Excluding you."

"Those ladies are fools. What happened with your eye makes you no different than any other man, not where it matters," she states. "You are a Targaryen prince, Vhagar's rider no less, and what are they?" A scoff escapes her. "Frightened hens, that's what they all are."

The mere sound of their voices going back and forth lulls Daenaera into a calm, sleepy state. Her mouth hangs open, and drool coats the shoulder her face is smushed against. His girls truly are a sight to behold. He leans back against the bathtub, his eye still fixed on them with a look of disbelief.

How did this happen? How did the arranged marriage that he dreaded blossom into the overwhelming feeling tugging at his heart right now? It's such a foreign feeling. He only ever felt it as a child, when his mother fought for justice on his behalf after his eye was so brutally taken, yet even that was different. The type of love he felt for his mother that day does not hold a candle to what he feels for his wife every waking moment.

The prince cannot help but smile, watching in awe as she rocks their little girl in her arms, careful to keep her above the surface of the hot water.

He reaches out to gently stroke the soft wisps of silver hair growing from Daenaera's head. Slowly, the hand touching the babe's head moves up the length of Y/N's arm and keeps moving until he cups her cheek. Seeing that he cannot make himself say it any other way, he says it in Valyrian. The words that have remained on the tip of his tongue since he first saw her holding their child finally break free.

"Avy jorrāelan."

The words have an instant effect. She falters and almost loses her breath, her gaze fixed on him as her heart hammers in her chest.

"Say it again," she whispers, each breath coming in quick succession.

The distance between them wanes little by little until all that stands between them is their newborn daughter, and she can feel the heat of his exhales clouding against her face.

Softly, he tells her, "I love you."

She cannot tell if it's the heat from the water in the tub, the warmth of his body, or the passion in his words that makes her press her thighs together to satisfy the ache between them.

"Again," is her one-word plea, whispered against his lips only a second before they converge in a kiss.

It's nothing too passionate. Of course, they know that she is holding their babe between them, so it is a sweet, slow kiss. One that does not rouse the child from her half-asleep haze but still contains all of the affection and feeling a more heated kiss would have. After the better half of a moment, she pulls away to hear him say it again.

He is reluctant to part from the kiss, but when he does, he moves to whisper in her ear.

"Avy jorrāelan," he repeats. In the heat of the moment, he lets his lips graze her earlobe before drifting down her neck, planting a trail of chaste kisses against her skin. But before he can advance any further, he stops at the feeling of the babe's head brushing the side of his face. He then tilts his face down to plant a sweet kiss on her as well. "Se Avy jorrāelan, zaldrītsos." And I love you, little dragon.

Y/N lets out a breathless chuckle, her chest still heaving from the rush of adrenaline his confession and the subsequent kiss brought her.

"I never would have taken you for a man that swoons over an infant."

Aemond chuckles softly at her questioning his affection for their daughter. He runs the bar of soap over his chest, lathering his skin with it and scrubbing until he feels sufficiently clean. The sweet scent of it hangs in the air. It reminds him of all the times he has smelled it on her in intimate moments much like this, and it warms his heart to think that this will be another fond memory for him to look back on the next time he smells it on her.

He hums in response to her question, rubbing the soap down his arm.

"What do you expect me to do? Hate her?"

As she passes the child, squirming at the sudden disturbance of being moved from one parent's arms to the other's, she rolls her eyes at him.

"No, of course not. I always knew you would make a fine father one day. At least, better than Viserys was." As she coats her skin with the soap, he follows the movement of her hands cupping her breasts and caressing down her soft stomach. "I just...I did not expect you to fall in love or care for us the way you do. Tis a rare thing for people of our station."

He is quiet for a second or two before answering her.

"I did not expect it either."

Once they are both rinsed off and clean from any stubborn suds that wish to cling to them, she gets out first to lay the babe down on their bed. Knowing her parents are near and fed with a tummy full of milk, Daenaera does not cry as she had with the nursemaids. She finds enough comfort in the soft feather mattress to drift off into a light sleep while her mother dries herself. The linen cloths were left folded beside the bathtub for her, courtesy of Nyla, and after they are done, she hangs them out by the open window to dry in the sun.

With her help, he dresses in his typical leather ensemble in preparation for the journey to Storm's End.

Fortunately for the both of them, flying is far quicker than traveling by land or sea, so it should not be long before he returns to her. He fastens the buckles that hold his doublet together as she wraps the belt around his slim waist, checking to ensure it is secured before attaching his sheathed sword. This is a practiced routine they have gone over countless times. Day after day, she helps lace his boots and buckle his belt. Not because she is his wife and it is expected of her to serve him, but because she wants to. It's a small act of service, but it shows him how much she truly cares.

Next, he sits on the couch and lets her help him with his hair.

They told the servants not to bother them until dinner, but she could manage his simple half-up style herself. On days when she feels particularly lethargic, she forgoes her intricate braids for something quite similar that only takes a few minutes. But, she decides without asking him, she will braid the hair pulled back from his face rather than tie it off. It's nothing compared to the magic Nyla works when weaving her hair into complex patterns each morning, but the simple braid holds more securely than it would be tied back. Seeing that he will be flying for hours, she thinks it best to prevent it from becoming a mess.

When he leaves, she is there to walk him to the stairs—with Ser Criston following her every step like a shadow.

"Sagon ȳgha, ñuha jorrāelagon," Y/N says softly, touching her forehead to his for a moment. Be safe, my love. "Kesi sagon umbagon syt ao." We will be waiting for you.

In her dreams, Y/N floats in a churning swell, abandoned and left to the mercy of the open sea with a storm overhead. Saltwater burns in her throat with every dip she takes beneath the surface. When the waves crash, she is sent tumbling beneath the surface with nothing but dark water surrounding her. It isn't until the current calms, only for a second, that she may kick her way back up. Strands of hair stick to her face as she tilts it toward the sky and sucks down breath after frantic breath of air. No matter how hard she heaves, it isn't enough to get her through the next wave that pulls her under.

Beneath the surface of the water, she cannot help but try to breathe once the pressure from holding her breath becomes too great, which causes her to inhale a mouthful of water into her lungs. Her legs and arms flail in a desperate bid to save what will be inevitably lost.

But, as she struggles, she sees something crashing into the water not far from where she is.

At first, the bubbles in the water obscure her vision and keep her from squinting to see with the salt of the sea burning her eyes, but it isn't long before she can make out the shape of a body. A man—no—a boy. Now that she sees him, she no longer wants to make it to the open air. Her lust for survival is dimmed by the confounding sight of a young boy with no visible injuries sinking into the depths. Those flailing limbs now move her in his direction, desperate to save him before he disappears into the dark that lingers below like the ever-present shadow of death.

It feels as though her chest may burst as she swims for him, and she knows she is running out of time, but she cannot bring herself to abandon him. He looks no older than her brother. It's a thought that propels her through the water faster. She can't stop thinking...I must reach him. I must save the boy and give him the very last bit of air in my lungs. The harder she tries, the further he drifts away, and there isn't anything she can do but scream into the yawning void of the open ocean.

She wakes from the nightmare with a gasping inhale. Her hands claw at her throat and chest like they had beneath the surface of the water, but when she opens her eyes, she is sitting upright in her bed. The hand clutching her throat instinctively reaches for the other side of the bed, for Aemond, yet no one is there. It takes another few seconds of panicked searching before she remembers when and where she is. Before she remembers that her husband left to fly to Storm's End.

She glances at the position of the moon visible through the opened window and deduces that it is the hour of the wolf. Morning is coming soon, but the moon is still high, and it will be another few hours before Nyla comes to wake her.

Every breath she takes is labored and heaving, but she slowly begins to feel better. Being grounded to reality by the scent of the dying flames in the hearth, the pressure in her chest and throat eases. In another moment, she will forget the suffocating sensation of drowning that startled her so deeply, and knowing this helps calm her even more. It is strange to navigate these frightening feelings without Aemond, though. It used to be her mother whose arms she crawled into after a nightmare, but then she became a wife. He would always be there to wrap his arms around her and shush her as she cried. Now, she is a mother with a child of her own, and there is no one around to soothe her but herself.

To her left, Daenaera rests in her cradle.

Ever since the incident after Viserys died, Y/N has refused to allow her to sleep anywhere other than beside their bed. Her sleep is interrupted as a result, but there's no amount of sleep worth more than knowing her daughter is near.

The sound of Y/N's footfalls on the floor is near-silent. It is precisely what she needs to check on the babe without waking her. Daenaera is swaddled in a blanket made for her by her mother, and she appears to be in a deep slumber. A cauldron sits on the floor beneath the cradle. Although plain and unassuming, it holds the dragon egg Rhaenyra sent when news broke of her only daughter's pregnancy. One of Syrax's clutches, she assumes. It has yet to hatch, which has worried her husband sick. After what he endured as a child, he is quite fearful of what her life may be like as a Targaryen without a dragon. But having been born without hatching a dragon of her own, having to risk her life in claiming hers, she does not worry. There is no way a child of hers and Aemond's blood, even if she is unlucky in hatching her egg, does not claim a dragon one day.

For some strange reason, she feels drawn to the egg tonight. So, she kneels down as quietly as possible and reaches for the handle of the heated cauldron. Just as she sets the lid down, the sound of someone knocking—banging, actually—on the doors to their chambers draws her attention away.

"Hello?" she calls into the darkness. "Whoever you are, quit making such a racket. You'll wake my daughter."

The door creaks open only enough to allow the same nursemaid who interrupted her and Aemond in the bath to peek her head in. Freckles smatter her pale face like splotches of brown paint, and her red hair is pulled back from her face, hidden beneath a head covering all of the servant girls wear as part of their uniform.

"What is it, Edyth?" Y/N asks with an exaggerated sigh.

"I apologize for disturbing you, Your Grace, but it is a matter of great urgency. Ser Criston Cole is here with me. I feared your modesty may not be protected at this time of night, so he has permitted me to speak for him."

This piques her interest enough to make her stand from where she knelt beside the cradle. Her stomach churns with anxiety as her mind runs through every possible reason she could be summoned at such a late hour. If Daenaera weren't here with her, she would assume something happened to her, but that clearly is not the case. That only leaves...

"Aemond," she thinks out loud, looking to the servant girl to confirm her suspicions. "Something has happened with my husband, hasn't there?"

All Edyth can offer in response is a frantic nod, and it takes less than a minute for Y/N to throw her robe on to meet her at the door.

"Stay and watch after Daenaera until I return. Do not take her from this room. Do you understand?" The nursemaid nods once more in response. "Good."

With that, the princess is gone.

Ser Criston walks alongside her, his armor abandoned in favor of the comfortable clothing he sleeps in at night. It seems that he too was roused from sleep to respond to what she can only assume is a terrible emergency involving her husband. She soon realizes, though, that she does not know where they are going and turns to Cole for guidance with a look of confusion. Part of her still feels as though she's trapped in the nightmare with the storm, sea, and the drowning boy. Trapped in the place between being asleep and awake, her body sways with exhaustion with every stumbling step forward.

After they have traversed enough halls for her to recognize where they're going, she realizes they are heading to the small council chamber...in the dead of night.

As he opens the door, her view of the room is blocked by him walking in front of her with one hand on the pommel of his sword. Her heart nearly bursts from her chest from the anticipation that has built within her since Edyth first poked her head into her room, mind racing with every outlandish possibility regarding why she has been called here.

Yet, there Aemond is.

There everyone is—Alicent, Aegon, and the rest of the council excluding the Hand. Since he is delivering terms to her mother at Dragonstone, it would be impossible for him to return in time to deal with whatever issue has arisen. Her husband stands next to his brother's seat at the table with his head down and his hands behind his back. The closer she gets, the more unnerved she becomes at the sight of him. His hair is wild—obviously, he flew through a storm, and it dried in the wind as he made the journey home—and his utter refusal to look at her...

She hurries across the room to him, with each pair of eyes around them following her there.

"You aren't hurt?" Y/N asks as she cups his face between her hands and lifts his head so she may look at him.

There's a drawn-out beat of silence that follows her question, and it feels like everyone in the room watches the pair with bated breath.

It is Alicent who speaks first.

"No, sweet girl," she says, though it sounds as though she may weep. "He is not hurt."

"Then what is the matter? Edyth made it sound like..."

Taking a look around the room for reassurance only makes her stomach sink even more than it already has.

Aegon sits at the head of the table with a vacant expression, likely exhausted and heavily drunk given the time of night. Alicent stares at her with such guilt present in her wide, doe eyes. Grand Maester Orwyle and the others, who were no doubt woken from a night of good rest like the royal family, all look varying degrees of horrified. It seems that she is the only one who does not know what has happened, and she can't stand it.

She turns to her husband, her hands sliding from his face to hold onto him by his shoulders.

"Aemond?"

Aemond tenses up at the touch of her hands, and the tension in the room has become palpable and thick. So much so that she doesn't look away from him until he tells her what is wrong.

"What is it? Tell me, please."

He slowly looks up to meet her eyes.

"Your brother..." he starts, then stops for a second to take in a deep breath.

No matter how difficult this may be, he doesn't avert his gaze from hers. He holds it, hoping that she may be able to see the shame he has locked away inside of himself to avoid being seen as weak in front of the others, and keeps talking even though he knows the truth will damn him to a fate worse than death. A fate wherein he is the object of her hatred from this point forward.

"Lucerys is dead."

Her eyes well up with tears at the thought, her head shaking erratically as if doing so will make the news any less true. Suddenly, images from the nightmare flash inside her head, and she realizes that she was being warned of this as she slept. By who or what, she does not know, but the image of the sea dragging him under was not one she conjured. The faceless boy now has the familiar face of her little brother. In a way, he felt like a child of her own with how she always doted on him and let him sleep in her bed when he had his own nightmare.

Just when she opens her mouth with the intent of asking how it happened, as well as how they all discovered this before her, Aemond confesses.

"I killed him."

omg omg it’s so fun to be back with this story it’s getting so dramatic! please let me know your thoughts on this chapter and show it some love if you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @m-indkiller, @tinykryptonitewerewolf, @hopebaker, @bcon24, @eleganttravelercloud, @the-blue-banshee, @saramayu, @merakiaes, @its-sam-allgood, @grungegrrrl, @singitoutgirl26, @scarlettmoon98, @itisjustwhatitis, @cl-0-vr, @d34d-4c1d, @hargrovehoe, @leahjean, @captainweirdo42, @magnificantmermaid, @dark-night-sky-99, @ladybug0095, @bellaisasleep, @blackravenart, @reneki, @heylosers06, @izzicle, @bucky-thorin-winchester, @hangmanscoming, @harrypotteranna23-blog, @fan-goddess, @glame, @barnes70stark, @lv7867, @kckt88, @callsignwidow, @aspookiepookie, @palomavz, @minttea07, and @shintax-error.

[vonbabbitt]

big long kamimura loredrop that i sent to my tetro staff two years ago. obvious spoilers and trigger warning for a lot of stuff. not for the weak of heart. also forgive the very casual tone this is written in i was sending it to my STAFF!! MY FRIENDS!! it has not been curated for public release lol

KAMIMURA KAZUTOSHI. WOW. LOTS TO UNPACK HERE. so kamimura was born as a very sickly kid. his parents were initially planning to have two kids, but when kamimura was born with very particular needs, they decided it would be better to dedicate their full time and attention to just one kid. so thats what they did! kamimura was born with a few conditions that made his childhood a bit rougher, the main of which being hemophilia, an (at the time) unidentified autoimmune disease and a few lesions on his brain. not ideal! so he was in and out of the hospital a lot as a kid, something that was very scary for him at the time, but his parents were very very supportive and loving during this time. they would be at the hospital with him every single time he had to be there (obvs cuz he was a tiny baby boy) and his mom would not go home until he was discharged. she would always be there telling him stories and playing games with him and doing her best to make the experience as comfortable as possible for him. so that made it less scary!

kamimura had a very good support system and it made him a very happy and social kid! he grew up very outgoing and playful and eager and close with his family. his dad was a busy guy who worked in tech, so while he was usually at work, his mom worked from home as a copy editor, so he spent a lot of time with her. as he started to get a little older (7-8), a few more comorbidities and diagnoses started popping up - chronic fatigue, crohns, some vision problems, muscle issues, things that made his life a lot more difficult and worried his parents because he was getting bad fast. this meant a lot more time in the hospital for baby kamimura which is very unfortunate for him. eventually he gets put on a new balance of medications/treatments and his family keeps doing their best because goddamnit their kid should get to be a happy kid! which he is! hes a very happy kid! hes just also a kid with a LOT of medical issues

SO THEN WE HIT AGE NINE. kamimuras mother is home alone with him when a close family friend drops by. hes someone kamimura knows very well - comes to all their parties, visits often, etc etc. but he was also someone who had very strong feelings towards kamimuras mom. he had confessed to her multiple times and obviously she had said no because she is married with a child and was not interested at all. except this time hes completely fed up with it. she says no, he gets aggressive and violent and tries to overpower her. she fights back, he panics and stabs her. a lot. repeatedly. over and over and over. so the kitchen is an absolute bloodbath. not good! a few minutes into this, kamimuras dad gets home from work and is very quickly added to the body count. family friend runs, and about ten minutes later, kamimura gets home from school.

so now this nine year old boy has walked in on his parents mutilated bodies lying in a sea of blood on the kitchen floor. his mind basically shuts down. he cannot even begin to process the ways in which his entire world has just come crumbling down. he goes upstairs to his room, closes the door, and proceeds to stay there for two days straight. if he can just stay in his room and not go outside, no matter what he saw, no matter what he smells, he can pretend that everything is fine and theres nothing downstairs.

after two days of this, kamimura's dad's work calls for a wellness check. a wellness check is performed! EVERYTHING IS NOT WELL. the police find kamimura, remove him from the house and into the system he goes. pretty soon he ends up living with his moms sister, who isnt a mean person or anything, but she never wanted kids and shes just lost her sister and shes going through a lot so she never really connects with kamimura. she feeds him and houses him and does her best, but hes completely shut off emotionally and very traumatized and wants nothing to do with this new life thats been put on him so he mostly ignores her and just goes through the beats of life.

from this point on, he has no friends. he doesnt get close to anyone. he doesnt try to. he shuts himself off, keeps to himself and gets picked on a bit because of it. hes outcast at school pretty quickly and that does not do much to help his mental health. it doesnt help that his PHYSICAL health is still deteriorating pretty fast and hes now living with somebody that has NO experience in taking care of his medical needs. hes still in the hospital all the time, but now hes alone and its quiet and hes scared. he hates hospitals. he hates going to the hospital so so so so much because hospitals are scary and it only serves to drive home the complete lack of his mom existing that is haunting him every day. it doesnt help that hiding out in a corpse house for two days has given him a deep, DEEP fear of anything dirty or putrid in the way that his parents' crime scene was. this evolves into a pretty bad case of germophobia that makes him hate hospitals even more because theyre disgusting infected places where people go to die and rot. bad.

but life continues! so when he turns 14, kamimura goes to high school for the first time! its also around this time that he finally dyes his hair - his black hair makes him look exactly like his mom and he cant handle seeing that every time he looks in the mirror, so blue it is! because blue does not look like either of his parents and now he doesnt have to fking see their faces every single time he looks at himself. yay! so he enters high school, his mental health is tanking, his physical health is tanking and everything is bad. high school is equally bad because hes still getting bullied and he feels sick all the time and school is stressful and he is completely lacking in socialization. so at age 14, kamimura tries to kill himself for the first time. it does not work. he goes to the hospital and very hastily explains it to his aunt as having simply fucked up his own medication and says it was all an accident because fuuuuck he does NOT want to be institutionalized. that would suck. and luckily this excuse works and he's back out in the world soon after. yay?

anyway life goes on! so kamimura goes back to school. except weirdly enough, he actually starts talking to another person. this person is named isao kamei and he is a boy in kamimuras grade! hes nice and cool and hangs out with kamimura and likes kamimuras dumb blue hair and likes all the things kamimura likes (scary movies. breaking random shit behind the school after class. yknow) so the two hit it off pretty quickly and soon kamimura has a best friend. except, uh oh, maybe hes more than a best friend?? kamimura starts realizing that hes got feelings for isao and panics because he does not need this complication ruining his one and only friendship. kamimura has had severe severe trust issues for years now and has finally let himself get close to another person again and he CANNOT LOSE THAT. but isao is a good guy, and theyre close, and kamimura is starting to think that isao feels the same way about him so maybe hed be cool about it. it goes against every instinct he has spent the past five years cultivating, but he finally works up the nerve and admits to isao how he feels about him.

IT GOES BADLY. SO BADLY. isao is uncomfortable and frankly kind of disgusted and pulls back HARD. he basically distances himself from kamimura forever and word very very quickly spreads (starting from isao) that kamimura is gay and that he asked out isao, something that absolutely quadruples the amount of bullying he is receiving. so a few days later, kamimura tries to kill himself for the second time. once again it does not go well. he gets very very very sick, but still wakes up in the end and is absolutely miserable and furious about it. his awful awful awful life continues to march on as always and hes back at school pretty soon after that! he continues getting relentlessly bullied, his health continues to deteriorate, and finally during one of his numerous numerous hospital visits he gets hit with two fun new terms: multiple sclerosis and myasthenia gravis. these are the two things that produce the vast majority of his symptoms. so at the very least he now has a few words to label himself with, but hes not really that thrilled about it either way. kamimura is someone with a lot of internalized ableism and resentment towards his own body. he sees it as the reason his life sucks and the reason he gets bullied and the reason he cant live like other people can. he hates himself, and that makes him hate himself even more because his parents always made such a big deal about telling him how much they loved him and how much he should love himself, so he feels like hes betraying them by absolutely loathing himself and his body.

so at sixteen, he tells his aunt he wants to move out. they arent close and he just wants to be on his own and honestly shes on board with this because she never wanted kids and shes ready to go back to her life. so out the door he goes! hes got his own apartment now, which means theres nobody to make him get out of bed or shower or eat or go to school. so he stops doing all of those things, which makes his health deteriorate faster and makes him even more miserable. so at age sixteen, kamimura makes a third attempt on his life. he learned his lesson last time and ups the dosage hard. except he cant keep it down because he hasnt been eating anything for like two weeks and his stomach just physically cannot handle the amount of medication hes ingesting. so this one fails too. but life goes on and kamimura needs to pay rent! his landlord thinks he is strange and concerning and wants to help him so he manages to get kamimura an apprenticeship with a man named ryōichi katō, a very experienced crime scene cleaner! kamimura EXCELS in this field. hes able to shut off his emotions around blood and viscera - his brain just completely blocks out the horror of it, which is almost a coping mechanism i suppose - but the point is that hes great at it. he starts working full time and it pays the bills well enough so hes got nothing to complain about quite frankly.

except his life still sucks. hes alone. hes sick. he hates himself. everything is bad bad bad bad bad. so at a particularly bad mental low at age seventeen, kamimura makes a fourth attempt on his life. this one has GOT to work because he has been honing this method for years now and SURELY he has worked out the kinks by this point yes? so he downs a shitton of pills, washes it down with cheap booze and passes out. then he wakes up in the Fujioka Memorial High School Basement Laundry Room and now we are here

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Something cold, sweet and delicious

Written for the January 2025 round of the @steddiemicrofic challenge, and for the @steddiebingo

Rated: E

Words: 517

Prompts: New, Clothed Sex (Countdown to Midnight bonus card), Quickie (round one main card)

Tags: Pre-S4; Scoops!Steve; Eddie is a little shit; Sexual tensionn; Fuck buddies; Angry sex; Clothed Sex; Bathroom sex; Semi-public sex

“Ahoy, Stevie!”

Eddie breezes through the door, reveling in the look of abject horror that replaces the smile on Steve's face. The girl he's been whispering with whirls around. “So the rumors are true. The new outfit looks lovely on you.”

Steve flushes almost as red as the tie of his cute little sailor suit - the very shade that Eddie likes to tell himself is reserved for him alone - but refuses to acknowledge him.

“Anyhow,” he tells the girl, slipping the smile back on. “My break's in ten, we could-”

“Maybe some other time,” she says and picks up her shopping bag. “I'll see you around.”

Steve watches her slip into the crowd of mall goers with tired resignation. Like a shipwrecked sailor seeing yet another vessel disappear on the horizon.

“Stop laughing, Munson. What do you want?”

“Take a guess, sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, not bothering to disguise his shark-like grin. “I'd like to enjoy something cold, sweet and delicious.”

He reaches over the counter to grasp at the tie. Steve jerks away. The blush deepens.

“Hands off! Are you insane?”

“What?” Eddie presses a palm to his heart. “Still ashamed of me? Kinda ironic, considering you're the one dressed like a Victorian school boy.”

Steve sputters. The family in the nearest booth looks over.

“Okay, you stupid, annoying asshole,” Steve says through gritted teeth. “How do I make you leave?”

“Well,” Eddie smirks, “I hear it's almost your break?”

*

Steve starts pulling off his shirt as they stumble into the bathroom, but Eddie grabs his wrists, rings leaving marks in the sensitive skin.

“Leave it on.”

Steve scoffs.

“Seriously? Does this turn you on or what? You really are a freak, huh?”

Eddie whirls him around, roughly pushing him into the next stall. Steve catches his fall by grabbing the toilet seat, and Eddie leaves him no time to get his bearings.

He yanks down the blue shorts, so hard he feels the fabric give a little, letting the rubber band snap below Steve’s buttocks and delighting in his half-pain-half-pleasure gasp.

“Oh, honey,” he purrs, pulling a pack of lube from his pocket and slicking himself up with two, three, four quick thrusts. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming. What was I supposed to do, watch you prance around in this getup and hit on everything with a pair of boobs? We both know you prefer my cock.”

Steve growls and tries to struggle, but Eddie claws one hand into his shoulder and reaches around him with the other to grab a hold of the tie, yanking him onto his cock. Steve doesn't argue after that, just moans and whines prettily until Eddie comes inside of him. It doesn’t take long.

*

“You really are an asshole, you know that?” Steve says as they step out into the food court, fiddling with their rumpled clothes. “Didn’t even let me come.”

“Priorities, sweetheart. Don’t want you to be late for work,” Eddie winks, straightening the sailor collar. “But if you insist, I'll wait for you in the parking lot after your shift.”

More Steddie Bingo

[loverboysturn]

✮⋆˙ newboy!matt and popular!reader have their first kiss !

read all newboy!matt writings here & find everything else here

note: this is obviously further down the timeline of anything else i have written for these two but i wanted to write something cute for them because everything else so far has been a lil angsty! after this the angst will continue tho..

for weeks now, you and matt had been spending more and more time together—hanging out after school most days, often spending time at his place with his brothers whilst you watched the three of them bicker, you’d take long drives around town, with no actual destination in mind, just the quiet hum of the car and the occasional glance between you. sometimes, you’d even sit in silence, both reading your books, each lost in them but still in the same space, just enjoying the presence of one another.

since you met him, there had always been something intense between you from the start, something neither of you had ever addressed. the lingering glances, the way it felt like the rest of the world was on pause when you were with him. you hadn’t said anything about your feelings for him, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, afraid of the rejection because you know that would break you now, but you felt it, the pull towards him, you just prayed he felt the same.

tonight was no different, you were sitting on the floor of his bedroom, flipping through one of his books you’d grabbed off the shelf. matt was sat on the bed, his elbows rested on his knees, watching you as you read, his brow furrowed.

“you know” you say, not looking up at him. “i was thinking..you still haven’t told me what happened at your old school.”

matt winces, not because you asking him the question bothered him, but because he didn’t want to get into it all with you. not just yet.

“it got me to be transferred to your school, that’s all that should matter” he says, his voice casual, trying to play it down. “it’s not a big deal.”

you glance up at him then, a smirk forming on your lips. “yeah, sure. because people just get transferred to a new school for ‘no big deal’”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back slightly. “yeah, well i did.”

you close the book with a snap and set it down beside you, you were unconvinced. “i don’t buy it, pretty boy” you say, voice turning playful, almost flirty. “you have this whole mysterious tough guy act going on, and just give me a little time, and i’m gonna figure you out.”

“oh, are you now? what’s your plan of action then pretty girl?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

you smirk, slowly standing up. “i just want to see if all those rumors about you are all talk.”

he straightens himself up, catching the playful look in your eyes. “you sure you want to do that?”

you don’t hesitate, taking a step toward him, nudging his arm lightly. “come on tough guy, show me what you got.”

before he can react, you push him, gently but just hard enough for him to fall back on the bed. he laughs, not surprised, but impressed by your sudden act of confidence. the sound of his laugh sends a flutter through your chest, making your heart skip a beat.

“oh, it is so on now” he says, grinning as he moves quickly towards you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down onto the floor with him.

you let out a yelp, laughing, but quickly managing to squirm out of his grip, moving so you’re now on top of him straddling his chest, hands placed softly on his shoulders, pinning him down.

for a moment, you’re both frozen in place, completely caught in how the level of intensity in the room had switched, there was a feeling of something else, something neither of you had acknowledged yet.

you catch your breath as you instinctively lean in, your fingers curling against his t shirt, your eyes searching his face, your lips hovering just inches away from his, and you could feel your chest rise and fall quicker than usual. the playful energy between you had faded, leaving only unspoken tension that had been brewing for weeks.

matt couldn’t help it, he wasn’t sure who moved first, but before his mind could even catch up to his body, he was pulling you closer, lips crashing against yours. the kiss started slow, hesitant at first, like neither of you wanted the moment to end, it was soft, your lips brushing together in a way that felt more like an invitation than an action. as the world around you completely faded, the kiss deepened, growing more desperate, as if you had both been waiting for this for a long time, and now that it had finally come, neither of you wanted to let go.

your hands find their way into his hair, tugging him closer. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, and he pulled you in tighter, deepening the kiss so it was slow and heavy. his hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing it lightly.

then, suddenly, the door swings open.

chris walks in abruptly, “matt, have you see—“ his voice cut off as he takes in the two of you, and he pauses, blinking in disbelief. “well, well…”

before matt could even react, chris was already calling down the hall. “nick! get in here, you gotta see this!”

[cannedbabs]

‼️What media would you like my RBTI rewrite in?‼️

I’ve been debating sticking to a comic format, or if I should hit AO3 and make it a written out story!!

Let me know your thoughts and opinions!!

(More stuff under cut)

Doodle page! Featuring just a small little sneak peak outside of my RBTI rewrite: the turbo twins!! I’ve had an ongoing side storyline for them even before this rewrite but I never knew how I wanted them to look. Simplistic answer is just a watered down, blue turbo (with one twin being just a little more spiffy for lore reasons). Meet Nitro and Gasket!

Extra scene doodle from a comic idea I had but scrapped (honestly kinda considering making a Patreon for this rewrite alone, just since I have so much back logged and scrapped art that idk if people wanna see)

I’ve completely worked the story and I’m so excited to share it. Idk what method would be the most effective!!

Doing a comic would take a LONG time and I may get burnt out on it, but visually it may be nice to have (imagine drawing the internet tho ohh my god 😭 nightmare) and I’d be willing to do it if that would be easiest for people. Ahh I’m just so giddy!! Idk what else to add. It’s 8AM I haven’t slept yet. Fish be upon yee

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

BUZZED!

formula one x male!reader

request: Okay okay, here me out, Male!reader gets a buzzcut and the drivers find out via like instagram or something and they get really whiny abt it.

summary: you get a buzz cut without telling your boyfriend

warnings: initial instagram post is just for reference + reader only posts whichever one applies to you most!, swearing, playful arguing

contains: alex albon, lance stroll, + lewis hamilton

youruser has added to their story!

written: time for a change ✂️

alex albon:

"WHAT DID YOU DOOOOOOOO?" alex yelped as soon as he walked through the door of your shared apartment.

you had just been lounging on the sofa, scrolling through social media to pass the time. you jumped slightly at your boyfriend's shouting. "what? what did i do?"

alex rounded the corner into the living room and pointed at your hair with a pout.

"that! what did you?!"

"alex, i just cut my hair." you chuckled, staying slumped on the sofa.

alex whined. "how could you do this to me???"

"you're so dramatic, oh my fucking god." you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. as much as you loved your boyfriend, he sure knew how to be dramatic. "it's not that bad?"

"yes it is!" alex insisted. "what am i supposed to do now when i want your attention?!"

"ask for it like a normal person?"

"it's like you don't even know me." alex huffed, flopping down on the sofa beside you.

you laughed quietly and put your phone away. "it will grow back, y'know?"

your boyfriend tilted his head to look at you with a a pout. "and what am i supposed to do until then?"

"cope?"

he whined again and poked you in the ribs, making you squirm slightly. "you're so mean."

"yeah, well, it's not getting reattached," you argued. alex ran his hand over the shaved hair with a sigh. "better get used to it, baby."

"fine ... but never again, okay?"

"no promises."

lance stroll:

the second you walked into your boyfriend's hotel room, he was right in front of you. lance crossed his arms and pouted at you.

"uh-oh," you murmured.

a sheepish smile crossed your lips. you tentatively stepped forward until you were close enough to pull lance into a hug, which you were very pleased to say he didn't reject. hopefully that meant he wasn't too upset.

"why did you have to get a buzz cut?" lance whined, pushing your shoulder.

you hummed. the truth of it was that the haircut had been an impulsive action rather than a conscious decision, but ... well, it was done now. "it's just hair, baby."

"no, it's not," lance argued with a pout. "it's your hair. which you let me play with and wash and put bows in and stuff."

"yeah, i hope you understand i would literally never let anybody else touch my hair as much as you do," you pointed out. was a part of you hoping to distract lance with a sweet statement? perhaps. but he didn't need to know that.

lance paused for a moment. he seemed torn between being sad and whiny about your hair, and being happy about what you said. sue him. he liked to feel special. "... then why did you cut it?"

"because i wanted to?" you shrugged. your hands dropped to lance's waist and tugged him closer, making him squeak quietly. "it's summer and it's hot and i don't need a fur coat on my head?"

"but what about the bows?" lance pouted at you.

a little grin tugged at your lips. "well, i can put them in your hair?"

your boyfriend seemed to short circuit at the idea of you putting bows in his hair. his lips parted in surprise, before his expression morphed into a goofy grin. "okay."

lewis hamilton:

the first reaction you got from lewis about your haircut was a text. he must've already been close to home, but apparently he felt the need to freak out about you getting a buzz cut as early as possible.

you cut your hair?

... yes?

it hadn't taken you long to reply. a minute at most. evidently, that was long enough for your boyfriend to get to your door. he flung it open, a dramatic frown on his face. "why?"

"hello to you too," you muttered, standing up to greet your boyfriend with a kiss. "because it was getting in my eyes, lew."

"so?" lewis raised an eyebrow at you.

you scoffed playfully, thinking he was just having a joke and not being serious. "so i couldn't see."

"so?" lewis repeated.

not joking, apparently.

"i can see?" he poked at the now-short strands with a wary expression. "i'd lead you places??"

"lewis."

your boyfriend pouted. he let out a dramatic sigh and turned away from you. "fine, i guess you like your vision more than you love me, then."

knowing he was just milking it, you wrapped your arms around lewis from behind and kissed his temple cheekily. "yes! glad you understand."

"... brat."

"love you too, lew."

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: anon i am SO hearing you out (can you guys tell i love whiny boys yet)

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Abby notices when you’re depressed. Let’s talk about how she handles that as your partner.

These are modern Abby headcanons. The list was much longer, but I cut it down considerably to keep it from getting too long-winded. I do have a piece written for WLF Abby. If it's something you want to see, let me know.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

• Maybe it’s a slow descent this time… little by little, losing interest in your favourite pastimes and finding it hard to discover meaning in daily life. In the midst of trying to survive, there is suddenly no room left for indulging in your hobbies.

Abby, with every random blanket and sheet she owns, constructs a blanket fort in the living room, offering a pressure-free zone where you can do nothing but feel completely safe and loved.

Super cozy, not too busy, and mega peaceful against the demands of a world that is asking far too much of you in this moment.

Does she deep-dive Youtube tutorials on how to build epic forts that probably belong in a magazine? I mean, yeah. Give her a break, alright? Complete dedication is the way this girl operates, and I’ll die on that hill. Also, Abby is a tall, sturdy girlie, and she needs to fit inside it with you. If you’re going to live in this fort together for the foreseeable future, she needs it to be good for you.

Now, if you want an enormous blanket hanging precariously off the side of the couch with a half-dead flashlight and crinkled comics shoved underneath some pillows, date Ellie. Still cute, still the thought that counts, but she’s no Abigail it’s my mission to save you Anderson.

• Abby stocks up on all your go-to snacks because she gets that it's hard to think about the basics when you're too bone-tired to move… nevermind prioritizing measly things like providing yourself sustenance. She’s got you covered.

• She refuses to let you marinate in the feeling of being a burden. She shuts that shit down fast.

“You’re my person, okay? I’m not going anywhere. End of story.”

• Abby grew up around doctors, so she'll for sure be the one to look up therapists and leave the info pinned to the fridge beneath a small magnet that is, of course, a laminated photo of the two of you on your first date. She describes it as the most important day of her life and brings it up regularly.

“You know, I’ve seen this picture a hundred times, but every time I look at it, it hits me all over again—how much that day meant to me.” Her voice dips low as she confesses something so immensely sacred to her. “The day I realized you weren’t just someone I wanted in my life. I’d been waiting for you without even knowing it. I thought I had it all figured out before you. Fuck, was I ever wrong.”

(Just know there's no rush to decide anything big when it comes to choosing a method of healing, but it's there when you're ready.)

• On your hardest days, she stays close, but she doesn’t push. She’ll busy herself with repairs around the home or folding the mountain of laundry shoved up against the wall in your bedroom.

• Abby loves to buy those cute nightlights with little animals on them or the ones that change colours, and she scatters them around the house. When you’re lost in the darkness, right?

• She serves you warm drinks in your favourite mug and nothing else. She’ll handwash it a million times a day if she must.

• Abby's phone chirps with little alarms throughout the day, reminding her to do something special for you. This is all the time, not just when you’re depressed, to be certain.

• Weighted blankets everywhere. Vehicles included.

• I don’t care what anyone says, Abby is soft as a motherfucker, okay? Is she rough around the edges? Maybe. Yes. 100%. Fine, she’s a hot mess, but will she read you poetry aloud, until her voice is hoarse, and her lips go dry? Without a doubt. There are sticks and jars of lip ointment all over the place wherever Abby resides.

Fun fact: Abby hates when her lips feel dry, even slightly. She is constantly reaching for ChapStick and all its cousins. Whenever someone tells her she should stop using her precious lip stuff because it will improve the sensory nightmare in the long run, she’ll immediately do that pouty, nose crinkle thing at them and ignore the advice without a breath.

• Abby lets you wear all her sweaters. That’s a given. But when you’re depressed, she tends to reach for yours as well. It helps her feel close to you when she’s dealing with her own inner turmoil.

• She doesn’t fuck around when she senses you’re starting to spiral. Her routines are extremely important to her, but she will put them on pause to be there for you.

Now, does she gently, lovingly, force your ass to go on walks with her to get some fresh air somewhere you feel comfortable? Yeah, she does. This might be annoying at times when you’re really struggling, and she knows it. She’ll still encourage movement in a way that is manageable for you if leaving the house is too daunting.

If that means you’re standing on her feet, arms wrapped around her neck while she sways side to side with you, so be it.

• She'll binge-watch your favorite shows and movies with you until she drains all the power in the entire city.

• Abby won't make you feel awkward if you cry. She'll just start crying, too, even if she tries so hard not to. She gets better at keeping it to a little glossy eyed moment, but sometimes your pain is her pain, and the dam just… breaks.

• Abby is an actions over words type of human. She’s a doer. Also, timing doesn’t matter much to her. She is desperate to give you a future to believe in because she is so certain that what the two of you share is everlasting.

Abby proposes to you when your hair is a mess, and you’ve been in the same pajamas for days. Fuzzy teeth? Fear not. She isn’t afraid of the hard times. Her love is an anchor. A constant.

She wants to remind you that you’ll never have to face your dark times alone.

Shadows dance on the tapestry walls of the blanket fort, illuminated by the warm, flickering lights hanging inside. Across from you, Abby lounges with her legs stretched out and her back propped against a pile of soft pillows. She’s quiet for a moment, fiddling with something in her hands.

“You know,” she begins, her voice gentle and husky, like gravel smoothed by unrelenting water. “When I was little, I used to make forts like this with my dad. We’d sit in the middle of all the chaos and just… talk about random shit. Nothing outside could touch us.”

As she glances at you, there is a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“That’s what this feels like—being with you. Even when everything else seems like it’s falling apart, you’re my safe place.”

Abby leans forward, her knees brushing yours, and you realize she’s holding a small velvet box. Her confidence wavers, revealing a hint of vulnerability you rarely see.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us—what we mean to each other.” Her voice cracks a little, causing her to pause and clear her throat before she continues.

“I know you’ve been feeling lost. And I know I can’t fix it, even when it kills me—even when all I want to do is make the hurting go away. But I can promise you this...”

She opens the box, the ring glimmering in the soft light, her affectionate, earnest gaze meeting yours.

"I promise you'll always have someone by your side to help you through it. No matter how dark it gets, I’ll be right here with you. For the tough days, the good ones, everything the world throws at us. Because you’re it for me. You always have been."

With each word, her voice grows softer, filled with an unmistakable tremor of emotion.

“Let me be your person forever. Let me love you, fight for you. Let me build you giant blanket forts until we’re way too fucking old to do it by ourselves—and then let me find new ways to take care of you. Because it’s all I want in this lifetime. You’re all I see. Will you marry me?”

[letsgobarbs]

The Plant Nanny

Pairing: Javier Peña x Spouse GN!Reader (Modern AU so Javi can have a water tracking app on his phone)

Summary: Javier Peña reminisces about life after quitting the DEA during his struggles with his New Year's Resolution.

A/N: This was written for @beefrobeefcal's New Year, Same Peña January prompt. I wrote this on my laptop and still haven't figured out how to get the little accent on n, best believe I copy-pasted his name everywhere in this fic.

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Steve is dead. The fucking pendejo died. That little shit. Fuck this.

Javi bit the inside of his lip, there was a strain in his jaw. It shouldn’t affect him like this, he knew that. It was just a plant— and not a real one. Steve the Dandelion was just a virtual creepy little fucker staring up at him with googly eyes constantly whining about being thirsty and emotionally blackmailing him to drink water or he’d die. And now he was dead.

Javier glared down, his eyebrows furrowed, at the little plant with its eyes crossed— still dead. It just wasn’t fair; he had drank water last night, had logged it in to water the little shit too. He braved the cold, and the sleep, leaving the comforting embrace of his partner to go pee a billion fucking times in the night all for Steve, the motherfucking Dandelion, to die on him by morning. 

His sweetheart maintained a sizeable collection of real plants, naming them after their loved ones, believing they could absorb the negativity, misfortune or evil eye for their human namesakes. He looked at Javs, Javi, Javier, Peña and JaviLicious all thriving by the window sill. Their Steve was doing fine too. He disappointedly looked down at virtual Steve. Maybe he should call the real Steve, check in on him and his family, wish them a Happy New Year like the sap he was.

It really wasn’t a big deal. He could just pick another plant in the app, maybe a cactus or a devil’s ivy this time— try again. But something wasn’t settling inside him, there was an odd heaviness in his chest and he must have slept weird last night because there was an ache in his shoulder that was stretching to his neck. And his mouth felt dry even after all the water he had guzzled last night. Most importantly, he felt sad. He hated to disappoint. He had already disappointed so many people in the past— his parents, Lorraine, the women he slept with, his coworkers, and probably a few more people he didn’t even know. He didn’t want to disappoint the love of his life too. 

He had made a commitment to them. A New Year’s Resolution. Javier Peña had never made one of those in his life before. But the second-most embarrassing thing was tying up your spouse in festive red ribbons and rope, like your personal Christmas present, only to then promptly pass out on them, and take the Christmas tree— that they had spent all afternoon decorating together— down with him. The most embarrassing thing, however, had been waking up in the emergency room, with a panicked partner and a worried father by his bed, realising the candy cane flavoured condom was still on his dick and the mintiness of it was stinging him. It had also given him a UTI. 

The doctors had said it was because of dehydration; according to them, he was so dehydrated his body had stopped being able to read the signs and had become less sensitive to water intake. He called bullshit. He had lived years off of booze and cigarettes and he had done just fine. He was doing just fine. He even had excellent skin, as his sweetheart often points out, and dehydrated motherfuckers don’t have that. 

But the incident had scared them— probably because he didn’t wake up immediately. One night they had tearfully told him they wanted to spend a very long, healthy, happy life with him— Javi had giddily reminded them that they were married and that’s what marriage meant. But he had also promised to drink more water as a New Year’s Resolution. He had tried, truly, he had— even when he had to stop, in the middle of thrusting, during sex to go pee. He was mortified, but he kept his word to drink more water. 

“It’s dead, isn’t it.” Javi was startled by the interruption. His sweetheart was leaning against their bedroom entrance looking delightfully mussed in his worn, old green training t-shirt, sleep marks on the side of their face. He knew their skin would be warm and toasty from sleep; Javi wished they would hold him. 

“Yeah… the plant is dead.” And they did hold him, coming up behind him to drape themselves over his back, arms wrapped around him with gentle strokes and soothing pets that told him they knew he was upset about way more than just the plant.

“Hmm… You know they have those drops of life thing in the app that revives the plant?” They gently reminded him. But life didn’t give second chances— there were no drops of life for people who were harmed by his choices. Javi bent his head to ease the ache in his neck, and to also make space for their chin to rest on his shoulder. Instead, his sweetheart started massaging the area that twinged with pain. Always so perceptive.    

“That’s cheating, I’m not a quitter. Gonna do this thing right.” He tells them instead of admitting his thoughts. And Javier Peña wasn’t a quitter. He took quitting as a personal failure and it killed him to do so. It had taken him so long to quit the drug war and Mexico. Sometimes, he still burned with injustice that none of it had made any difference, that his actions had been futile, all those lives lost for nothing. It was the sort of rage and anger he hid behind a mask of apathy, insisting that he was done— that he was through.

But he hadn’t believed himself, and his father hadn’t believed him either. For months, he hadn’t been able to stay at the ranch, unable to stand the sight of those boats transporting drugs across his own backyard. And then he had only felt worse because he was letting his father down with more flighty attitude. 

He would escape to a bigger city under the guise of consulting gigs, interviews, and even for drug education and prevention programs when he was truly desperate— telling kids ‘Don’t do drugs!’ like they would actually listen. Often the words had echoed in his mind, ‘what else is a guy like you gonna do?’ Javier didn’t have an answer, he had never felt so purposeless. 

It was during one of these escapes, he met his cariño at a cafe. They sat at the table next to his, annotating the morning newspaper like they would annotate a book— a big bold ‘DICKHEAD’ over the president’s head with his eyes and mouth crossed out, a heart over some celebrities’ face, another ‘WTF?!?!?! BULLSHIT’ on the margins of some political op-ed. He failed to hold in a chuckle when they had disdainfully clicked their tongue which had caused them to look up at him. Just as he had been poised to apologise, they had abruptly turned to fish out an extra pen, waving it at him in offer along with sliding half of the newspaper closer to him.    

He turns to look at the side profile he had studied and admired for weeks rather than the newspapers— letting the tip of his nose trace their cheekbone up to their temple, smelling their scent mixed with their lotion, soap and shampoo from their shared bath last night. He watched their eyes flutter close, eyelashes gracefully fanning over dark circles that spoke of prolonged exhaustion; eyes still puffy from a lack of sleep. His heart tightened with gratitude and love, he had run his sweetheart ragged this holiday season. He pressed his lips to their skin when he felt his throat had closed around the words he wanted to say, conveying all the love and adoration he felt.  

Those mornings at the cafe had been the brightest part of his day until the shared breakfasts had turned into happy hour drinks and then comforting dinners. It was always easy for him to fall into bed with someone, but it had been so difficult to leave theirs. So Javi simply never left. Which didn’t mean he hadn’t been a colossal idiot at times. The very look in their eyes had terrified him, his sweetheart was not one to hide their feelings and theirs had been apparent very early on, even with him constantly pulling away and drawing boundaries. 

He was always so afraid he would never measure up to that look in their eyes, it filled him with endless anxiety. He had been so sure that they would realise he wasn’t worthy of the love that poured forth from those eyes— eventually, they would stop looking at him that way once they realised what a disappointment he was. He also didn’t believe he could love so openly and wholly. How wrong he had been. 

Javier had waited, and waited, and waited some more for them to finally demand more of him, or throw him out of their life for something better— someone more stable. But the demands and confrontation never came instead they trapped him in the limbo of his own making where they only gave him as much as he gave them. Their shared meals were lighthearted and playful but the conversations always impersonal. And even during the nights when their breaths mingled, hearts sang, and souls danced together, his sweetheart would avoid his eyes and his kisses. For the first time in his life, it wasn’t him out of bed first, refreshed and active, lighting a cigarette or pouring a drink after sex— it was them, getting some water, snacks or taking a shower. 

He hadn’t known what was missing until they had been too dazed from pleasure to avoid a kiss. And that kiss. It had changed him. It had been so tender and desperate, a tantalizing mix of long and slow explorations of each other with sweet and deep forays that had them both panting for air but unwilling to part. The kiss had been warm, passionate and possessive as if the floodgates they had barred closed were cracked open and an immense torrent of love, want and need had surrounded the both of them. It had shaken him and created a sense of awareness— Javier Peña had never been loved this way before. 

So it had been all the more shocking when they had ripped away from that kiss as if burned. His cariño had taken all that love and locked it up again in their eyes, they never allowed it to settle between them again. They had respected the boundaries he had set, and held him to his words as well. The loss had left him bereft— he yearned for what he had tasted only once. And Javier learned just what a greedy man he could be. He had craved more, more more. Everything they were willing to give him and then some. 

He listened to their quiet dulcet tone as they whispered to him about a plant they had lost in the app years ago after it had grown shoots and a smile, and how it had been the tiny thing that triggered a depressive episode. He realised it was an attempt to comfort him and his heart softened further. Javi gently caressed their chin before guiding their face to turn to him until their lips met his in a kiss— their lips always so soft and generous. He wished he could kick the old him for being so stupid for missing out on the chances to kiss the love of his life. He didn’t know why he had been so terrified and uneasy when loving them was so easy. 

He kissed his partner for the sake of kissing them, with relish and wild abandon— feeling the tender arch of their palate, the smooth gummy lining of their cheek, the rough patch on the middle of their tongue. As he sank deeper into their kiss, he allowed the claws of the past to loosen their grip on his mind.

When he had finally dislodged his head from his ass all those years ago and confessed to wanting more from their relationship, it was as if his sweetheart had bloomed in front of his eyes with a smile so full of fondness and affection it had taken his breath away. Their love had spurted vines that tenaciously climbed over his walls of self-loathing and doubt, tearing through the bricks he had laid. The process had been so slow he hadn’t even realised when he had started to breathe easier as the walls crumbled around him. 

Some of the rubble and ruins would still sting and prick under his feet— like today. But the wreckage of those walls had allowed for clear air that brought with it the realisation that Javier Peña was just a man. He hadn’t started the war on drugs, nor will it end with him. He had done what he had to do, and his choices, albeit questionable, were true to who he was. It wasn’t his fault he lived and laboured under a system that would have never allowed his efforts to come to any lasting fruition. He had unsuccessfully struggled for justice in a world devoid of it. And ultimately he had made the choice that was good for him.

The acceptance of his past and actions hadn’t been spoon-fed to him like his father and Steve had attempted, it was a realisation he had come to all on his own, which made it stick. He had personally closed the doors on the opportunity with the Houston DEA office with another on-record interview calling out their discriminatory practices in the name of narcotics control. Surprisingly, his vocal critique had paved the path for him to a new job with a local community-based harm reduction organisation. Connie had even helped him certify as a first responder. 

The irony was not lost on him, that despite all those years of his father’s talks, he had ended up just like the old man. Javier had stopped chasing storms; he had found his fulfilment in coming home to fix the fences every time a storm hit because… someone has to. The DEA was not done with him though, they would often pull him in for consultations— the payment was always a nice cushion for their growing family. 

He was miffed at losing his sweetheart’s attention to the dead virtual plant again, but he watched them revive the plant anyway. His inventory of free drops of life dwindling into nothing, giving away just how spectacularly he had failed at his New Year’s Resolution— he had already killed nine plants before Steve the Dandelion. A fact his cariño had also just realised judging by the admonishing glare. But the action still felt so… significant to him— it made his heart soar. That stupid plant wasn’t the only thing his sweetheart had revived. 

He pulled them off his back and around the couch, positioning them between his spread legs so he could nuzzle into the softness of their belly. Javier grazed his fingers up their thighs to lightly tease the hem of his old t-shirt. They had given him more love, affection and devotion than Javier knew existed— more than he knew what to do with other than trade it between them like two children exchanging their spoils in a collectable card game. 

He hadn’t yet figured out exactly what they saw in him, but he hoped they would see it forever. He would often catch them looking at him from the corner of his eyes, or in the reflection of a window. It would always be a look so full of love that a warm glow would ignite in his chest that spreads all the way to his fingers and toes. Even now, he could feel the warm flush rising up his exposed neck. 

“You know they say new habits are built by layering them on the old ones?” They said as their fingers played with the hair at his nape.

“Mhm, how’s that?” He asked as their fingers now played connect-the-dots with the freckles on his throat. It turns out his cariño was feeling frisky again. He cupped a palm-full of ass, playfully squeezing it to draw them closer to him.

“Well, you could take a drink of water before every meal, or after you brush your teeth, or… before every time you kiss me?” They teased. But he reared his head back. 

“Every time? Every time I kiss you? So, I would have to stop kissing you to go pee every time? What if we were making out? What about sex?” He sounded affronted even to his own ears. This was the worst idea. But they kept giggling away at his misery. 

“Alright, cariño, what is your going rate for a kiss?” He demanded.

“Let me think about it… what about a glass of water for a kiss? Two glasses of water for a full makeout sesh… and then a whole litre of water for sex.” They laid down the law. 

“No…” He was aghast, “Baby, if I drank a litre of water before sex then all you would hear is the water sloshing around in my stomach while we make love.” The words served their purpose as his sweetheart burst into peals of laughter. 

“Why don’t I get a discount today because I was sad?” His voice dropped an octave as he tried to seduce and cajole them back to their bedroom— his own eyes dripping with syrupy love to mirror his partner’s. This suited him, he thought. This life. This love. It all suited him. It was good for him and it made him flourish. 

A/N: The Plant Nanny is an app I used several years ago to build a habit of drinking water. It gives you a tiny plant you can name, and every time you drink water you can water your plant as well. When you drink the water you are supposed to, the plant grows. If you don't drink water, it dies and you feel bad it died. But they give you like 10 drops of life to revive a dead plant. Poor Peña has used up all those drops lol.

[godhandler]

Rent A BF!

#1 | young toji fushiguro x reader | fluff, mentions of prostitution, aged and sometimes offensive terminology | 600 words

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31st December, 1995 | 11.57 AM  

Toji Fushiguro ran the moment he could. His 20th birthday was spent on the streets, the first of many. Children who run don’t get the luxury of carefully packing a bag with cheese and wine; Toji escaped with only the clothes on his back and burning hope in his young heart. 

His ass was freezing. The frost-slick footpath seeped through his jeans, the dew wet his cheeks, the beer did nothing to warm him up. But it was okay, in fact– he’d never felt better. He was finally, finally free. 

The only worry that pressed him as he watched the fireworks celebrating the end of the year and the beginning of another, a better one, hopefully, was this: he had to find a job now. 

January - March, 1996 

“No, you can’t substitute your Cola for a Cookie Milkshake. What do you mean ‘why?’ Lady, where on the menu do you see milkshakes? Exactly. We don’t make those. No, I can’t make an exemption for you, we-don’t-make-those. Just take your Cola for God’s sake. No, you’re not allergic to Cola. Oh yeah, I am calling you a liar… Fucking fine, meet the goddamn manager! Suck his dick off for all I care!”

“Aisle 5. Aisle 7. We don’t sell dildoes. Aisle 8. No, I will not step on you, you’re too grown to be saying that. Aisle 5, I already told you.”

“Man, I’m just the cashier. I don’t know shit about cars, how am I supposed to fix it? Alllllright, weird kink but if all you wanna do is watch while I play mechanic, I guess… Pay me 1000 yen more and off the book, okay? And you’re just watching from a distance.” 

“Ladies, I have to kick you out, no coke in the host club. It’s written right there in fucking bold letters. Get your–hands off me! I don’t care how much you wanna pay– Oh my God, fine! Fucking fine! Pay my rent and groceries for a month and you can do what you want! Jesus-Fucking-Christ!”

Toji’s descent into escort services wasn’t much to his joy nor consent. It was simply the job with the highest ROI and gas prices were going up. And he was only 20.

Not as bad as it used to be, standing on the footpath looking for takers like those 100 yen whores. Toji kicks a pebble along as he walks to the café you’ve decided for your first meeting. At least I didn’t wear red lipstick and stuff my bra. 

To any middle aged businessman rolling down the car window in search for the cheapest fuck for buck, Toji and the red-lipstick-stuffed-bra folks looked exactly the same: dirt alley Minami-Senju hookers. Smoking, yelling, shoving, squatting on the street corner. For the sake of his dignity he refused to add that he often sold himself for lesser than 100 yen. 

He grumbles: hey, it was a long time ago and I didn’t know what I was doing, alright? Look at me now, working for Perfect Princes. Do you even know how much this lady’s paid for me? 

Lost in thought, he almost walked past The Blessed Fortune Café. The abrupt stop and turn makes him accidentally kick the pebble, a faithful companion of his long journey, through the sewer vent. 

It clink-clank-thunks though the metal pipe and finally splashes! into the dirty stinking water. Dirty like you, whispers that voice in his head. Down the drain like any dignity you really had. 

He steps into the café, craning his head around looking for you. The receptionist said you’d wear red. 

previous next series masterlist

a/n: divider. baby faced toji my beloved i want to wrap him in a blankie and tell him everything will be okay.

[lady-lostmind]

NOT SICK!

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Sick Fic

Rating: T | WC: 856 Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

Eddie watches as Steve slowly sniffs and coughs his way through his morning routine and stumbles into the kitchen with a groan. 

Eddie flashes him a bright smile. “Morning. How’re ya feelin’?”

Steve sniffs loudly, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet. “I’m fine.” His voice comes out all garbled from his stuffy nose.

“You sound sick.” He leans forward with his elbows on the counter, resting his chin on his hands.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m not sick.” He promptly sneezes into the crook of his elbow.

Eddie raises his eyebrows pointedly at him. 

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sick! I have to go to work.”

Steve gets close to Eddie, trying to grab the canister full of tea but Eddie grabs his wrist and pulls him in close. Eddie sticks his hand on Steve’s forehead, ignoring his groan of protest. “Sweetheart, you have a fever.” 

Steve swats his hand away and grabs the tea. “It’s just hot in here.”

Eddie sighs, letting him go and crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t go to work like this. You’ll get all the kids sick.”

Steve slumps, leaning on the counter. “It’s the first day back from break. I can’t miss today!”

Eddie leans forward and presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek and puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “I know how much you miss the kids. But you’re sick. And they need time to get a sub so you can’t do your denial dance much longer.” 

Steve sighs, letting Eddie pull him in for a hug. “I’ll call the school.”

Eddie pats his back and nods. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Steve grumbles again and makes his way back upstairs. While he calls the school, Eddie starts gathering supplies to bring up to their room. Box of tissues, bag of cough drops, nyquil, Steve’s abandoned tea, his book from the living room, and his favorite blanket. He sets everything up on Steve’s bedside table just as he comes in, back in his pajamas.

He huffs in annoyance as he climbs back into bed. “You didn’t have to do all that. I can take care of myself.”

Eddie sighs. “I know you can, baby. But let me help.”

Steve yawns, snuggling down into the bed, his face softening when Eddie leans down to kiss his forehead. “Sorry. I just hate being sick.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Really? I never would have guessed.”

He looks up at Eddie with big, pleading eyes. “Do you have to work today?”

Eddie sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “For a little bit. I have that draft due in a few days.”

Steve pouts. “Can you work in here?”

“I don’t want to keep you up, sweetheart.” 

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll still nap. I promise.”

Eddie sighs. “How about I cuddle with you until you fall asleep, then I’ll go work in my office?” 

Steve nods, flipping the covers over so Eddie can climb beneath them. He scoots in close to Steve, pulling him against his chest. “Go to sleep, baby.”

-

Eddie is hunched over his laptop a few hours later, so close to finishing a scene he just needs to focus a little long–

“Babe?” 

Eddie sighs, quickly finishing the sentence he was in the middle of before making his way down the hall to their room. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Steve shakes his head. “I woke up and you were gone.” 

Eddie smirks at him and walks to the edge of the bed and pushes Steve’s hair out of his face, letting his hand linger on his forehead. “You’re still warm. Did you take anything?”

Steve groans and shakes his head. Eddie sighs and huffs out a laugh. “Of course not.” 

He grabs the cough syrup off the table and pours it in the little cup, holding it out for Steve. 

Steve pouts and looks up at Eddie with big, sad eyes. “I hate that stuff.”

Eddie nods. “I know.” He puts it closer to Steve’s mouth with a pointed look.

Steve sighs but opens his mouth and lets Eddie pour the liquid in as he grimaces and whines about it. Eddie rolls his eyes and sets the cup back on the table. “I’ll go make you some tea.” He leans down and kisses Steve’s temple before turning to leave. 

Steve grabs his wrist and Eddie turns back with a smirk. “What, baby?”

Steve looks up with pleading eyes. “Will you put some honey in it?”

Eddie chuckles. “Of course I can, sweetheart.”Steve grins and rubs his thumb over Eddie’s wrist before turning over and snuggling into the pillows. Eddie heads downstairs and to the kitchen. He grabs a mug from the cupboard, Steve’s favorite tea, and– “Shit.” Eddie stares at the empty spot on the shelf where the honey usually sits. “No fucking honey?” Eddie shakes his head and walks out of the kitchen, down the hall to the closet in the entryway to grab his coat and stuff his feet into his shoes. He pauses at the bottom of the stairs and calls up to Steve. “Be right back, baby!”

[royal-chandler]

temporary/maybe permanent title is winter interlude. written for the lovely @caressthosecheekbones ✨

--

Henry is certain that he's only just fallen asleep when he’s nudged awake, Alex’s soft scratched voice at his ear and his hand giving Henry’s wrist a slight squeeze. Henry’s answer to his name is a long groan. 

“Hen, baby. Can you wake up for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

Henry groans once more and burrows further into the pocket of warmth that’s been conjured from sleep, their thick cloud-like duvet, and Alex’s arms. He keeps his eyes shut and silently, drowsily wishes for Alex to concede. And of course, no such luck.

“I’ve got an amazing idea.”

“That for some ungodly reason can’t wait until morning?”

“It’s uh,” Henry feels Alex slightly shift away, imagines that he’s checking the nocturne glow of their bedside clock, “one thirty-six right now so technically...”

“Don’t even bother finishing that sentence.”

“Come on,” Alex draws out. He shakes Henry some more, as if he can transfuse enthusiasm through vibration or using Henry like a ketchup bottle that’s been sitting too long. “Come on, we’re losing starlight. Let’s get a move on.”

“Christ, Alex, what for?”

“It’s stopped snowing. We should go sledding.”

Henry snorts, incredulous in the quiet. “Fuck off.”

Clearly Alex has gone bonkers because there is no way on earth that Henry is dragging himself out of bed to charge down a hill of snow on a plastic death trap in freezing temperatures in the middle of the night. 

*

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Henry says, trudging through snow that’s at least twenty five centimetres deep at the rear of the White House. 

At Henry’s side and tugging him and his sledge the last bit to the crest of the hill, Alex says, “It'll be fun.”

“Ah, yes.” Henry nods. Editorialised with bone-dry sarcasm, he continues, “Whenever I think about fun, frostbite is the first thing that springs to mind.”

“It is nowhere near cold enough for that.” Alex brings up their joined hands. “Plus, you’ve got your little cute gloves on. You’re good.” 

The Aztec patterned gloves are secondhand from Alex, dug out of a closet cubby as he had pointedly made sure to mention that they were a gift from his abuela when he was thirteen and no longer fit. 

Alex had also emphasised that Henry didn’t need to give them back. That it was a transfer of ownership. And they are very nice, the fingerless sort that convert into mittens. The yarn stretches comfortably and the pouches slip over Henry’s fingers just right. 

“Everything will be fine,” Alex promises. He reaches out and clicks on Henry’s headtorch. His already lit grin is brilliantly illuminated. “Trust me.” 

“There’s no question of that,” Henry returns. “I only ask why this couldn’t wait for the daytime? You know, how it’s normally done.”

Alex simply shrugs, his grin gentling into something flagrantly affectionate. “Because right now it's like the world is just us.”

And fuck, what is Henry supposed to argue against that?

*

“How are you winning?!” Alex drags his sledge behind him with one hand and wildly gestures with the other. “You didn’t even want to do this. I did not plan on you winning.”

Above him and at the top of the hill already, Henry props an elbow on his now vertical vehicle that’s planted in the snow, watching Alex with amusement. His boyfriend is exceptionally precious when he pouts. “My being reluctant to sledging doesn’t mean I’m not skilled at it.”

“Best of seven,” Alex huffs upon arrival. 

“You have a problem. The terms were already agreed upon.”

“You scared?” 

Alex then proceeds to emit the noises of a fowl.

“Resorting to primary school tactics, are we?”

Alex only lifts his brow, his expression dancing with challenge.

“I'm going to need some proper motivation, darling,” Henry says, sliding on a smirk.

“I could be a victim of clichés and offer mind-melting sex if you win but you get that all the time anyway.”

Henry breaks into helpless laughter and agrees when he finds the cold air to do so. 

“So, instead, how about the next time I’m at the palace I take you up on those horseback lessons finally,” Alex says. 

“Truly? You’ve always seemed—uncomfortable around them.”

“Well they are huge, intelligent beasts that can buck me off and launch me god knows how many miles an hour into the air.”

“Dramatic." He pauses, shaking his head. "Really, Alex. You don’t have to.”

“You love it and it’s something we can do together. I’d like to try it out,” Alex says and he sounds sincere. “If I don’t enjoy the experience, I won't be shy about it.”

“And if you win? What do you want?”

“Here’s where I do get pervy."

"Of course."

"I win and you let me buy you a pair of cowboy boots and a Stetson and you wear them for me.”

“Nothing else, I’m assuming.”

“Anything else would get in the way, Henry.”

“You’re on.”

*

Minutes and minutes later, victory is Henry’s and he graciously accepts Alex’s request for a final run, plopping down on the front of Alex’s sledge when he makes a grabby motion for Henry, his legs open. Their combined weight rips them downslope, easily the record of the night. They’re a powdery pile at the bottom when they come to a stop short of the treeline with a sharp turn and tumble off the sledge. 

“You alright?” Henry asks. 

“I should be asking you. You’re the one who cushioned my fall. Am I smothering you?"

“It's all fine for now, love. You’ll be nursing my aching bruises later.”

“Obviously.” Alex animates the line of his brow. “Just call me the love doctor.”

“Won’t be doing that, thanks," Henry comments. Using his teeth—due to most of him being trapped under Alex—Henry yanks back the pouch of his right mitten. He assesses the snarled wreckage of Alex’s hair that’s been freed of the headtorch and clumsily combs through it with chilled fingers. There’s a small scratch by Alex’s temple. Henry thumbs away the paper-cut thin trace of red and finds Alex’s perfect eyes. “You didn’t let me win, did you?”

“Me? Never. I lost,” Alex insists, sweetly leaning his head into Henry’s touch. His adoration is spotless if not his honesty. “Life rolls on.”

Henry considers calling Alex out but a shiver distracts him, stalls his tongue. 

Alex’s arms around him tighten and with their physical arrangement, it’s plenty awkward. It’s also loving. He ridiculously presses a kiss to Henry’s wintry-wet palm. “Cold?”

Spellbound, Henry murmurs, “A bit, yeah.”

“I’ve got a way to get you warm,” Alex shares quietly. 

*

Henry moans and licks at his lips, chasing the flavor off his mouth. “This is sinful.”

“I know,” Alex says after a long sip from his UT mug. “Nothing beats Mexican hot chocolate.”

“And the amaretto? Ugh, chef’s kiss.”

“Discovered that little addition four Christmases ago.”

Henry smiles at him and eats another mini marshmallow. “The man’s a genius.”

“Yeah, my ideas aren’t all shit that will have us needing Icy Hot the next day,” Alex replies, his gaze dropping to where their sock feet share the spindle of a kitchen stool.

Henry lightly kicks him. Kicks him again to get his full attention. “Tonight wasn’t shit.”

“No?”

“No.”

Alex sighs, abandons his drink to rub at his stubbled jaw. “Snow felt like—like a fresh start. A renewal, I guess. Getting rid of yesterday. I know it’s not that easy, that it doesn’t work like that and it’s fucking stupid—”

His heart sore and swollen, Henry closes the distance that parts them, hushes Alex’s doubt with a slow and open kiss. He kisses past the cling of sugar and spice, until it’s clean. 

“I love you,” Henry says. His words are only a fraction of what he means but he knows Alex can read the spaces between. Thank you. It helps. You help.

“Love you still. Love you always.” Alex curls into him, his hand over Henry’s knee. 

He’s there. He’s there, Henry knows because he can read Alex’s spaces just as well.

--

please forgive any mistakes. i read over it but it was written very quickly. also, i’m fairly sure there are no hills behind the white house. the grounds are pretty flat but for some reason this fic insisted on being there.