#I must not have enjoyed it much with only renting it once

[paladincecil]

Out of nowhere, I very vaguely remembered an old game I rented a single time many years ago but not the name of it.

It featured 2 animal characters who were tied or chained together, and to attack one of them would use the other character as a weapon. I think at least the first level took place in a lab? I imagine it would have been on the ps2, but it could have been gamecube.

Not a lot to go on but if I'm able to look at screens for a while tomorrow I might do some research to try and find out what this mystery game could be xD

[hausofwoo]

handy | choi san

pairing: choi san x afab reader

word count: 5K

summary: you move into a shitty apartment with a long list of maintenance issues. your landlord puts off sending someone to fix them, only making your frustrations grow. that is, until the maintenance man finally arrives and you discover that he's hot... and you find yourself making excuses for him to keep coming back.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, maintenance man!san, tenant!reader, reader is kind of a perv lol, unprotected piv (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), san is a tease, fingering, hair pulling (m receiving), cumplay, kitchen counter sex!!!, he kinda throws u around hehehe, choking, dacryphilia, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: umm.... hahaha um...... so this is lowkey based on a recent experience i had of my maintenance man coming to fix some shit in my apt and he strangely had SO much rizz and i was like wait a minute.... this could be a great fic idea LMAO thank u to @hausofmingi for being my beta-reader ily always ♡

when you signed your lease at your new apartment, you didn’t expect to sign up for a list of problems.

you desperately needed a new place to live, and with the measly budget you had for rent, all that was left available were slim pickings. so when you finally found a small 1 bedroom apartment that wasn’t double your desired price, you jumped at the opportunity. you applied for the place on the spot and were approved the same day. you didn’t really think anything of it, but when you finally got settled in and actually gave a good look at your newfound home… you were in for a fucking nightmare.

for starters, the window unit in the bedroom wouldn’t blow cool air. it’s right in the heat of the summer, so coming home after a long day only to sweat all night long was not cutting it for you. you put in a maintenance request through your tenant portal app the first day when you realized this.

another annoyance was the dishwasher. one of your biggest must-haves was to have an actual working one. maybe you were asking a bit much with your budget, but with the amount that you work, it was imperative. you were thrilled to see the dishwasher during the viewing, only to find a few days worth of dirty dishes later, that said dishwasher was rusty and moldy. literally unusable. so you put in another maintenance request.

last one, and maybe now you’re just getting picky because you’re pissed, but your shower water pressure sucked, and by the time you would finish a shower, the water would take forever to drain. another request sent.

all these maintenance requests and not a single one fixed. you started to wonder if the tenant portal app even worked, so you called your landlord, only to grapple with them on finding a time for them to fix it while you’re still home. you might want these things fixed asap, but you’re not willing to let a stranger in your space when you’re not there.

you started to fucking lose it. a few weeks with no cold air, shitty water pressure, and dishes piling up your sink, and not one thing being done about it. you call your landlord one more time, urging them to finally fix these issues, arguing that they should’ve been fixed before you even moved in. and with that last push, they finally caved and did their fucking job. they said they’re sending someone there first thing tomorrow.

so when you finally wake up and go about your day-off routine, you’re constantly watching the clock. when they said “first thing tomorrow,” did they mean “first thing tomorrow once the maintenance man feels like it”? because it’s already pushing noon and you’re getting impatient. it’s obnoxious; you’re not able to run any errands (let alone actually go out and enjoy your day off) and you’re just waiting around for some dude to actually do the job you’ve been asking for for weeks.

just as you find yourself dialing the landlord’s number, you hear a knock at your door. fucking FINALLY. you jump off your couch, mind spewing profanities out of frustration. you walk towards the door, ready to give this stupid maintenance man a piece of your mind. you swing open the door, and your heart drops.

the maintenance man stands before you, with a tight black tank that hugged his muscular build and dirty worn jeans. he has a tool belt strapped to his (surprisingly small?) waist and a heavy tool box gripped in his hand. he’s a little dirty, and his chest is shiny with sweat due to the humid outside air. his rugged exterior is a huge juxtaposition to his face, however, with sharp yet kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“you need some maintenance done?” he asks.

“oh, uh, yes,” you stumble, suddenly at a loss for words. “come on in.” you hold the door open, allowing him to walk through to your living room.

“so you’re having issues with your water pressure?” he says, looking around the apartment.

“yeah, that and a few other things,” you reply. “but the biggest thing is the window unit in my room. it doesn’t blow any cold air.”

“i can fix that,” he looks at you with a grin. “which one’s the bedroom?”

you walk him to your room, thanking god he can’t see the blush forming on your face. he walks in and places his tool box down, promptly inspecting the window unit.

“i’ll just let you do your thing,” you say, twiddling your thumbs. “i’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

he nods, and you go back to sit on your couch. you mindlessly scroll through your phone, all while spiraling in your head. did your landlord hire this guy from a fucking modeling agency? he has the build for handyman work, that is certain. however, his face is what’s really getting to you. he could be on the cover of vogue and you wouldn’t bat an eye. but there he is, working on a shitty a/c window unit in your room.

you suddenly become hyper aware of the appearance of your bedroom. what does he think about your decor? is he cringing at the plushies sat on your bed? what if you left a pair of underwear out? oh my god, did you leave your nightstand drawer open, with your vibrator out for the whole world to see?

“it looks like you’ll need a whole new window unit,” he says from your room, interrupting your swarming thoughts. “this one doesn’t even have heat, and you’ll need that for winter.”

“oh, yeah,” you say, getting up and standing in your bedroom doorway. “how long will it take to get a new one? this heat has been brutal.”

“i should be able to bring one tomorrow, if you’re available,” he says, turning back to look at you as he closes up the tool box.

“i’m available,” you say all too quick. dude. be cool. “i mean, yeah, i can try to get off work a little earlier, maybe at like 3?”

“works for me,” he smiles, standing up. “can i get your number?”

you can’t hide your blush this time, nodding at the insinuation, but knowing it was just to iron out arrangements. “here,” you say, opening your phone messages so he can send himself a text.

he types away and hands your phone back. “you need a new dishwasher too, right?”

“i do,” you confirm.

“i can try and get you one by tomorrow too,” he says. “i’m off duty by like 5, so hopefully i’ll have enough time. now the shower?”

you nod and lead him to your bathroom. he examines the shower head, and you watch your cat approach him from behind.

“oh my god,” he says, startled at your cat rubbing against his leg. “this little dude came out of nowhere!” he reaches down to pet him, all while he’s purring up a storm.

“wow, he really likes you,” you stand shocked. your cat is always so standoffish to strangers, usually hiding under your bed or couch. but he’s rubbing against your maintenance man’s legs like he’s best friends with him.

“cats tend to really like me, i don’t know why,” he chuckles, scratching at your cat’s head. “what’s his name?”

“leo,” you say.

“like the zodiac sign?” he looks up at you while still petting him.

“yeah, i wanted to name him after his own sign but he’s a cancer, soooo…” you trail off, awkwardly fiddling with your hands.

“i’m a cancer!” he lights up, looking back down at leo. “no wonder we get along.”

you smile, and then realize you’re staring again. “i’ll go back in here so you can work.”

after distracting yourself with your phone again for a bit, you look up and see the man starting to walk out the bathroom doorway, already with his things together.

“okay, it should be good now, but let me know tomorrow if there’s any issues,” he says. you nod to him and lead him to the front door. you open the door and he walks out, but turns to you before he leaves. “so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” he has a smile on his face, with a hint of something behind it that you can’t quite read.

“yeah, tomorrow,” you say.

after locking the door behind him, you slump onto the couch with a big sigh. that was somehow the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever experienced. you remember he texted himself on your phone, so you open your messages and see the unsaved number.

sent 12:28 pm this is san :)

you can feel heat rising to your cheeks. even a stupid smiley face in a text has got you kicking your feet. you text him back, telling him your name and a quick thank you.

dear lord. this man didn’t even do anything, but he will be the death of you.

you come home early the next day, even earlier than you mentioned. partly because you wanted to clean up your place a bit, but the other part to mentally prepare yourself for a hot man in your apartment again. you clean up your room, tidying up so it looks a tad better than it did the day prior. once you’re done, you find yourself fixing up your makeup, realizing you’re putting way too much effort into seeing a fucking handyman fix your a/c.

are you really doing this? intentionally getting dolled up for this?? haha never! right….?

you hear a knock at your door and jump up. you check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the gloss on your lips. you go to open the door to reveal san, standing in front of you again with a familiar sweet smile on his face. you smile back too eagerly.

“i got your window unit!” he says, nodding down to the large box in his hands.

“oh, come in, that must be heavy!” you say, ushering him into your living room.

“mind if i go in your room?” he asks.

“of course, please,” you say, opening your bedroom door and letting him set the box down. you attempt to subtly watch his arms flex as he drops it. oh my god he is so hot.

you retreat to the living room as usual, allowing him to work in peace. you work on some things on your laptop to pass the time, but the thought of this man working on your a/c, muscles protruding, sweat glistening… it’s all too much of a distraction. you decide to put your ear buds in, trying to drown out your own perverse thoughts. you finally are able to hone in on your work, catching up on the things you couldn’t finish during your shift today since you left early.

you don’t realize that san finished installing the window unit until you feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

“oh!” you stammer, pulling an ear bud out. “sorry, what’s up?”

san has a smile creeping on his face. “my bad, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to let you know i finished putting in the unit.”

“that’s great, thank you so much,” you say, standing up. “did you get the dishwasher today too?”

“yeah i did,” he says, but then he checks his phone for the time. you realize it’s about to hit 5 pm, and he said he’s off by that time.

“you’re almost off, i forgot,” you say apologetically. “you can just come back another day?”

he checks his phone again, contemplating. “well… i mean i already have it in my truck, so i don’t mind working a little bit over my time.”

“you really don’t have to, san,” you plead.

“it’s okay,” he says. “i’ll be right back with it!”

he exits your apartment, giving you a moment to kick yourself. having a dishwasher that works would be so great right now, but you feel guilty for having him work past his time. another part of you wants him to go anyway, if it meant he would come back again.

you hear a loud noise outside your front door, so you open it to see san with the new dishwasher on a dolly. you hold the door open for him, allowing him to enter your apartment and bee-line to the kitchen. he props the dolly down to drop the box.

“i should be able to finish this in about an hour, is that okay?” he asks, already unboxing it.

“as long as you’re okay with working this late,” you shrug.

“i don’t mind at all,” he smiles, looking up at you.

“okay, i’ll just be in here,” you point behind you, gesturing to the living room.

“alright, dishwasher is done,” san says, walking into the living room with a broken down empty box in one hand and dolly in the other.

“thank you so much,” you smile.

“is there anything else you need then?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.

a moment of silence washes over the room momentarily, with you wracking your brain trying to find a reason for him to stay longer. but you push that away, knowing he’s been working way too long past his scheduled time.

“no, i think that will do it,” you sigh, unintentionally sounding disappointed.

“well,” he mumbles, toying with the box in his hand. “well you have my number, so if you need anything, feel free to shoot me a text.”

you walk him to the door, thanking him. he stands out in the hallway, you looking at him out your front door.

“really though,” he insists. “if you need anything.” with one last sweet smile, he leaves.

so what does he mean by that? “anything.” maybe you’re delusional for thinking there’s a hidden meaning behind that statement. as in, you can text him if you want him to fuck your brains out, “anything?” definitely not, but your mind wanders at the thought of it; that he’d drop everything and book it back to your apartment, heaving and sweaty, ready to take what’s his. you’re actually fucking crazy.

and to make yourself even crazier, the next few days you find yourself itching to get another reason to have him come back. you check your kitchen sink’s water pressure, it’s fine. you test out the stove for the first time and it cooked your food perfectly, no gas smell. then you find something. one of your kitchen drawers won’t close completely. it’s something small, but enough to put in a maintenance request. for the first time since you moved in, you feel grateful you live in a shitty apartment.

you swing the door open, happy to see the cute grin san always gives you the moment he sees you.

“sooo… a drawer, huh?” he quips with a hint of a teasing tone.

“y-yeah, i tried to fix it but i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” you defend, rubbing the back of your neck.

“i can fix that,” he says, passing into the kitchen, tool box in hand. you’re ready to retreat to your living room as usual, but san stops you. “you know, you don’t have to wait around in your living room for me to finish. i like having company.”

“oh,” you mumble, turning around. “i thought you might want privacy while you work.”

“no, it’s okay,” he says, opening his tool box to grab a few items. “if you wanted, you can hang around. i like learning about the tenants i’m working for.”

“okay,” you murmur. you open a kitchen cabinet to grab two mugs. “do you want some tea?”

“i would love some tea,” he says.

you put the kettle on the stove, heating up some water. you chat with san about work, how many units he has to visit in a day, about the interesting tenants he meets, how long he’s been doing this. once the kettle starts whistling, san is already finished fixing the drawer, placing it back into it’s assigned slot. you can’t help but feel disappointed that your time with him is almost up. you put the tea bags in the mugs of hot water, offering one to san.

“i know you’re done, but if you still want it,” you say, and he accepts the drink with a grin. you both sit at your kitchen table, continuing to chat. your cat leo enters the kitchen, going to straight to san’s legs to rub against him.

“there’s my boy,” san coos, scratching leo’s head.

“i still can’t get over how much he likes you,” you laugh. “he’s never this friendly, he’s only like this with me.”

“he seems friendly to me,” san says. “maybe he just has good taste in people.”

you chuckle, wondering in the back of your mind if he meant that about you too.

san checks his phone, realizing the time. he sets down his tea and stands. “i should probably get out of here, there’s another tenant waiting for me.”

“i didn’t mean to keep you—”

“no no,” san interrupts. “it’s okay. i really liked this. not a lot of people are this welcoming.”

“of course,” you reply, standing up with him. “i—i really liked this too.”

san smiles, biting a bit at his lip. you look at each other for a moment, feeling an intriguing tension in the air. he finally shakes head, going to grab his things to go. you walk him to your front door. you say another thank you, about to close the door.

“like i said,” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “anything.”

you hadn’t seen san in over a week. it was driving you mad. you became addicted to his energy, to his warm greeting at your front door, to the lingering gazes you shared. you didn’t have any reason to see him again, and you needed to find another. so you did something you’re not entirely proud of… something that an actual crazy person would do. you loosened a bolt on a pipe under your kitchen sink, allowing water to trickle the smallest amount in the lower cabinet.

listen. you know it’s bizarre at this point, but you had to see him again. it’s not like anything would happen; he’d probably just fix it up, have another nice chat with you, and be on his way. is it so bad that you meddled with your sink just to see him?

when san arrives, he has that all-knowing grin on his face the moment you open the door.

“the sink now, hm?” he asks.

“yeah,” you chuckle anxiously. “the sink.”

he goes to the kitchen and inspects the pipes under the sink. you lean against the counter, hoping to god he doesn’t notice that the pipe didn’t magically get loose.

“ah i see,” he laughs to himself. “it’s just a loose bolt. easy fix.” he tightens it with his tools, quickly finishing.

“oh, haha,” you say, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “i guess i could’ve done that.”

“you know, it’s so interesting…” he trails off, standing up to face you, running a hand through his hair.

“what?” you ask.

“i’ve never had to do so much maintenance work for one tenant before,” he says, sly grin across his face. fuck. do you think he knows?

“and i swear, that bolt kinda looked like it was loosened by a wrench…” he trails off again, stepping closer to you. HE KNOWS.

“n-no, i would never,” you defend, feeling backed against the counter.

your eyes are locked on san, wandering over his built frame, over his sharp features. he’s inching closer and closer, and you feel your breath hitch. he catches your trailing eyes as if to ask for permission, and leans in to kiss you.

finally, the thing you’ve been wanting so bad from him, to feel his lips against yours. he cups your cheek with one hand, letting you melt into his touch. your lips part to allow his tongue to slide in, deepening the kiss with fervor. his form pushes against yours, pressing you against the kitchen counter. his hands begin to wander, grazing from the side of your face down to your waist. he holds you in a tight grip, pulling your hips forward to meet his. you can feel him harden in his jeans as he lets out a groan against your lips.

“you did this on purpose, hm?” san says, separating from your lips. he lifts you up and places you to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. he kneels to the floor, grabbing at the waist of your pants. “just to see me?”

you nod emphatically, watching as he pulls down your pants and underwear. the cold air hits your core and you try to close your legs, but san pushes them back open to admire you. putting your legs over his shoulders, he runs his fingers against your folds, eyes drinking in the sight of you. you shudder at the feeling, knowing all too well that he’s already got you soaked.

“you like seeing me like this?” he whispers, looking up at you. “i bet you imagined me like this, between your legs.” when his fingertips graze over your clit, your body lets out a shake, and he knows he found what he wanted.

he attaches his mouth to your core and places a firm hold on your outer thighs. licking stripes up to your clit, each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven. he dips down to your hole, dragging your slick upwards. he moans at the taste of you, devouring at you with more passion. your hands grasp at his hair, relishing the stimulation.

he tugs his head back, looking as pussy-drunk as ever. “i imagined you like this too,” he moans, lips still hovering over you. you unintentionally tug at his hair, yearning for his mouth back on you. “i wanted you so bad the moment i saw you.”

he releases a hand off your thigh and snakes it back between your legs, teasing at your hole as he goes back to circle his tongue around your clit. he looks up at you as he slides his middle finger in, watching you crumble at the feeling. once he can tell you’re comfortable, he slides in another, slowly starting to pump them into you. you whimper at the feeling, walls contracting around his fingers.

your moans are uncontrollable, and he matches them, letting the vibrations enhance the stimulation. he curls his fingers into you, hitting that perfect spot. he can feel your core clenching more erratically, causing him to pick up the pace, but maintaining a steady rhythm. his tongue flicks at your clit just right, making you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten the grip on his hair.

“s-san,” you let out. “i’m gonna cum.”

he detaches from you briefly, still finger fucking you. “cum for me, baby, i want to taste you.” he immediately latches back onto you, eating you like his life depends on it.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, feeling like chills. you’re shaking now, unable to control the sheer amount of bliss your body is experiencing. you moan out to san, coming undone on his tongue. he continues to work at you, allowing you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm.

he finally disconnects from you, pulling out his fingers coated in your essence. he licks them clean, looking up at you with the same look of desire. he stands up, promptly placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. you can taste yourself on his fucked-out lips, and it makes it that much hotter. you can hear him fumbling with his belt, and your hands reach down to help. you place your palm over his bulge, it twitching at the contact.

san separates from you, letting out a heavy sigh. he pulls himself out from his underwear, rubbing the tip at your spent pussy. he looks down and lets a string of his spit hit his throbbing cock, spreading it around the expanse of it with his hand. he angles himself into you, and slowly starts pushing in. you gasp at the size, him stretching you out much more than his fingers initially did. he takes it slow, acknowledging the whimpers leaving your lips.

once he’s fully inside, he groans. “god, you’re so fucking tight.”

he watches himself enter you as he starts rolling his hips into you. he places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you towards him for a messy kiss. he starts to pick up his pace, earning a sharp hiss on his lips in between kisses.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs to you. “i knew you would feel good.”

you moan in response, completely unable to form any words. all you know is that the stretch of his cock is deliciously painful, and the sweet kisses he’s peppering over your neck gives you goosebumps all over. you can’t even believe this is happening right now, that your fantasy of fucking your maintenance man is coming true, and it feels even better than you imagined.

“you wanted this so bad,” san teases, continuing to piston into you. “for me to fuck you like this. you probably imagined it, touching yourself the moment i left.”

and he’s right, you found yourself needy and horny after every visit he made. you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your vibrator and pretending he was the one fucking you, not yourself. but the feeling of the real thing was much different, much more euphoric. to have his chest heaving in front of you, sweat beading on his temple, desperate energy emanating from his body, saying i want to have all of you.

suddenly, he lifts you from the kitchen counter, holding your thighs firmly with his cock still in you. something about the fact that he can completely hold you up, still bouncing you on him even… you feel like his little play toy that he’s throwing around. he takes you to the bedroom, dropping you down on your bed and landing on top of you.

he wastes no time in sliding back into you, desperate to continue feeling your tight walls around him. his body is hovering over yours, your legs tangled as he thrusts into you. he pecks around your neck, hand ghosting over your throat as if seeking permission. you place your hand over his, allowing him to choke you until you’re lost in a euphoric haze.

his thrusts become more intense and forceful, each stroke sending chills down your spine as his length reaches deeper inside you. you swear you’re shaking the whole bed, the headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall. you’re so clouded by pleasure that you barely even notice he’s fucking you so hard that he’s pushing a dent into the wall from your bed frame.

“i can fix that,” san whispers with a smile, not even bothering to stop.

you let out a chuckle, then press a soft kiss to his lips. his hips begin to slow, as though he’s really taking his time to melt into you, to feel every part of you. he then lifts up to hit a new angle inside you, gripping your waist and slamming your hips into his with powerful, deliberate motions. you move your hand to your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. your vision blurs, tears starting to well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me?” san asks, sensing the irregular pulsing of your core. you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between your teeth. “cum on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”

your orgasm builds to a peak and then cascades over you, sending you into a state of pure bliss. san is still fucking into you, extending your orgasm while still chasing his own. it’s not until his hips begin to falter that you feel him shoot ropes of his cum into you, filling you completely. his moans echo yours, his hips gradually slowing until he finally comes to a stop.

he pulls out of you, falling next to you on the bed. the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as it gradually returns to a normal pace. you look at each other, smiling with a shared understanding of the unexpected moment you just experienced. he wraps his arm around you, drawing your head to his chest to where you can hear his heartbeat.

“sooo…” you chuckle softly, pointing at the dent in your wall. “you’re gonna fix that, right?”

san grins, pulling you closer. “i mean, i can, but then i’d have no reason to come back tomorrow.”

“now that i think of it,” you say, chuckling. “i think there’s probably a few more things that could be fixed…”

“anything you need,” he says. “anything.”

a/n: guys this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoyed it too!! something about san lately oml... plz leave feeback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho

add me to the taglist!

[f1fantasys]

uh this is so random idk if you would write this but i have an idea so you are Lando’s roommate. one day you came home early and you heard a girl moaning from his room and immediately feel jealous but you tried to brush it off. then as the voice is getting more intense eventually you lean beside his door and can’t help to start touching yourself. you didn’t realized that you moaned too loud that makes Lando opened the door. he is shocked ofc but then start teasing you until you pushed him away because you respect his girlfriend. and it turns out… he just watching videos so no girlfriend or anything. later he decided to help you and even makes you squirt then ended up fucking you against the wall

Hi anon, i love this! Hope you enjoy.

Caught

Warnings - heavy smut, porn, kissing, p in v sex, oral f! receiving, fingering, swearing, squirting.

You moved to Monaco a few weeks ago, being a Sky presenter, meaning you always had things to film and create with drivers and teams, so naturally, it made sense to live closer to everyones' base.

You had an amazing relationship with all the drivers, and were close to a few of them as well. Of course there had to be one, who'd caught your eyes on the first day of work 3 years ago.

Lando.

You wouldn't particularly say you were as close with him as you were with Charles and Carlos, but whenever you were together there was an undeniable sexual tension. Though you both would always brush it off and act like nothing was wrong.

Things were pretty normal between the pair of you until you'd arrived in Monaco, with your landlord telling you the apartment you were supposed to rent wasn't available anymore.

Long story short, Lando offered you a place to stay for as long as you needed, and you don't know how, or why, but you accepted.

So here you were two weeks later, coming home at an ungodly hour because your meeting at work ran over.

Lando's probably sleeping, you thought to yourself as it was already 12.35am when you checked the time, choosing not to make something to eat in fear of disturbing him at this time of the night.

As you walked quietly to your room, which was next to his, you heard something which froze your body still.

At first you thought your ears were deceiving you. It surely couldn't have been.

But as you willed your body to walk closer to Lando's room, you were done for.

It was moaning. Loud, sexy, goosebumps-raising moaning. There was a girl, and a guy, whom could have only been Lando.

To be honest, you had thought he'd bring random girls home much sooner than today. But still, the thought of him literally fucking a girl on the other side of the wall had your body quivering. In shock and need.

You knew you should retreat to your room, put your headphones on, and block out all of the noise. But once again, your body deceived you, wetness already pooling at your core.

You could hear them both panting through harsh breaths, moaning as if their life depended on it, and swearing as though they didn't care if the neighbors heard them, let alone you.

Somewhere at the back of your heart, it hurt, to think it was Lando with another girl, not you, but in the moment, all you could think about was how his naked body would slide against yours. You imagined his girth to be thick and long, just big enough to fit perfectly, having your walls clench around him as he moved in and out of you. You thought about how it would feel to have his lips on yours, roughly kissing you while slipping his tongue into your mouth, and about how he would pinch your nipples between his fingers before sucking on him, having you a moaning mess underneath him.

Without really realizing what you were doing, you found your hand slide into your joggers and slip past your panties, running your fingers through your folds as you collected you wet and sticky juices.

The noises coming from Lando's room were obscene to say the least. Man must know what he's doing, you thought, as you imagined it was his fingers that were dancing on your folds.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your own moans as you pushed two fingers through your core, shutting your eyes, mind trained on listening to your surroundings.

You could hear from the girls' whimpers that she was close, saying incoherent words through gritted teeth, and when she finally hit her high, Lando must have emptied himself in her by the sounds he was making, moaning into the oblivion.

Lando's moan alone had sent you spiraling, gushing cum all over your fingers as you let out your own soft whimpers and moans, not realizing that you were actually louder than you thought.

And just as your mind caught up with just how loud you were, Lando's room door suddenly flew open, the both of you staring at each other in shock.

He was stood there wearing nothing but his boxers, hair disheveled and cheek flushed.

You quickly removed your hand form your joggers, holding both your arms behind your back as if you were hiding something, as you looked at him not knowing how to get yourself out of this situation. You wanted the ground to swallow you up.

You didn't miss how Lando's eyes darkened when you did that, and with the way your body was still riding down from the high, you held in soft quivers, opening your mouth a few times to say something though nothing came out.

''I-I, um, I-'' you started but Lando cut you off.

''What are you doing?'' he asked, not sounding one but annoyed or confrontational, but rather teasingly.

You gulped, 'nothing'' you lied, knowing your face would give you away with how hot your cheeks felt.

He smirked, let out a small chuckle. ''Enjoyed that, didn't you?'' he teased again.

''I-, fuck, I didn't mean to eavesdrop'' you mumbled shyly.

He didn't say anything back, just nodded his head with a full on boyish grin.

''I'm gonna go, let you get back to your girl'' you softly said, turning to the direction of your room.

''My-, what? My what?'' Lando asked, clear confusion on his face.

You raised your brow. ''I'll let you get back to your girl'' you said, pointing in the direction of his room, quickly hiding your hand again because your fingers were still glistening with your cum.

Finally it clicked in him. Did you really think he had a girl in there? he thought to himself. And fuck, seeing your wet fingers had him growing hard.

He chuckled again, smirking, before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his room, shutting the door behind you and placing his hands on both sides of your face, staring into your soul.

You both stayed silent, searching each others face until soft moans filled your ears again. Your eyes grew with shock when you looked past Lando and saw his laptop on the bed, facing you, with two people fucking each other taking up the screen.

Suddenly it dawned on you. He was watching porn, not fucking anyone.

You took a deep breath again when you looked back at Lando. His gaze stern and determined. And then he did the unimaginable. He took you hand in his and brought your fingers up to his mouth, taking them in and sucking harshly on them, swallowing all your juices.

All you could do was watch with your mouth agape, pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him down there.

''It wasn't me babygirl. But it can be if you want it to'' he whispered.

Your breath hitched as his hands landed on your waist and started roaming your body. Instinctively, you wrapped your hands around his neck, and in no time he leaned down to crash his lips to yours.

It was a feverish kiss. Hard and deep but so natural as if you'd kissed a thousand times before. Your mind went back to a few minutes ago to when you were standing outside his closed door, imagining what his lips felt like, and now you could confirm it was a hundred times better, a hundred times sexier, as he slid his tongue into your mouth and memorized every inch of it.

Your hands ran through his hair multiple times before lowering down to roam his back and taunt core muscles, instantly feeling your self aroused again at how hard his muscles were to the touch. It was something you found extremely sexy.

As Lando's own hands continued to dance around your body, he let one slip through your joggers, landing instantly on your core which had you jumping in his hold.

''Gonna take care of you baby'' he said before leaving wet kisses along your neck as his calloused fingers twirled their way through your slick folds.

You moaned out as he began to nip and bite at your neck, no coherent words forming in your mind. All you knew was how good he felt.

''So wet for me, yeah?'' he asked.

''Uh huh'' you replied, shutting your eyes as he let a finger push through you entrance.

You held your breath as he pumped it in and out with ease because of how wet you were.

''Fucking hell, you're so tight'' he said through gritted teeth, using his other hand to get past your tshirt and massage your boobs.

''Been a while'' you said, though immediately regretted it because he did not need to know that.

Suddenly he pulled back and looked at you. ''No'' he states.

''Yes'' you say back.

''How long?''

Does it matter? you thought to yourself.

''I don't know, like 3 month'' you said, not knowing how he would respond.

''Fuck'' he said, before sending you a wink.

''Gonna destroy you'' he said, mumbling it more to himself.

He quickly pulled your tshirt off of you before ripping your bra off, licking his lips at the sight of your perky boobs, nipples already stiff from the cool air.

He took way too long staring at them, and only when you whined did he snap out of his trance and sink down on on his knees, pulling your joggers down at the same time.

You mentally thanked yourself for shaving this morning as you looked down to see Lando licking his lips, before leaning down and licking a strip up your cunt.

You instinctively tried to close you legs around his head through he held them open with his strong hands, and you could do nothing but let your own hands latch onto his precious hair and pull it at.

He was devouring your pussy. Licking, sucking, soothing, nipping, doing everything possible to make you feel every emotion.

''Fuck Lando'' you hissed as he quickly found your clit, biting at it harshly before pulling back and blowing some cool air on it.

He returned his fingers and slid two in, hitching your breath in the process as he let his mouth back on as well, showing you no mercy with a relentless pace.

All you could do was let out a series of moans and bated breaths as you held onto him for dear life, feeling the warmth build up in your stomach.

''Gonna cum Lan'' you said.

He pulled back for a second, ''let me taste you again'' he said, before returning to his activities.

In no time your body was shuddering above hi, your orgasm letting you reach the best high as you gushed your fluids all over his face and fingers.

Lando groaned to himself when he go the first taste of you. Warm and milky with a salty aftertaste that had him grow extremely hard with the mix of hearing and feeling you.

He finally pulled back for a few seconds, letting your body calm down.

He looked at you with soft eyes. ''So fucking delicious baby'' he murmured.

Before you could even respond he was spreading your legs apart again, as far as he could as he ran his tongue through your fold again. Then he used to fingers to pry your pussy open, leaning forward and thrusting his tongue in and out of your core.

Once again you pulled at his hair, body like jelly though he was strong enough to hold you in position as his tongue did wonders to you.

''Hmm, not gonna last long, fuck, Lando please'' you begged.

Suddenly his tongue was being replaced with his fingers again, three this time, which stretched you out, making you gasp for air.

You could feel your next orgasm building up, and just when Lando curled his fingers to hit your g-spot, your body was in a state of bliss. You didn't even know that your cunt was squirting out juices, drenching Lando's face as he smiled wickedly at the mess he's made of you.

''I-fuck Lando!'' you all but screamed, watching as he started licking at every place you gushed over.

You tried to get out of his hold so you could bolt to you room, so embarrassed that you made such a mess on him. ''Lando, let me -I''m so sorry, fuck'' you mumbled.

But he stopped you in your tracks.

''Don't. That was so fucking amazing, fuck I''m so hard'' he said, quickly standing up again and roughly pulling you into a heated kiss, while still holding your body up. You were sure you'd be on the floor by now if he wasn't.

As his face was pressed your yours you could feel the slickness and stickiness rubbing off on to you as he continued to roughly make out with you, sucking on your tongue, probably drawing blood with how intense it was.

When Lando' hands reached down and massaged your ass, giving you a few gentle slaps, you snaked your own hand down and slipped through his joggers, taking his achingly thick girth and pumping him a few times.

When you felt how big he was, you were internally screaming. How the hell is he gonna fit, you thought.

He must have sensed your hesitation because without realizing, your movements with your hands and mouth were faltering.

''Gonna be ok baby, we'll make it work'' he said, pulling back and giving you reassuring eyes.

You just nodded your head and pulled him flush against you again, working on removing his boxers completely.

Once that was done, Lando took himself in his hands and raan his angry dick through your folds multiple times before groaning and pulling back.

''Shit'' he said.

You gave him a confused look, suddenly feeling exposed because why else would he pull away if this was something he didn't want?

''Don't have a fucking condom'' he sighed.

You let out a breath and chuckled. ''Top right drawer of my dresser'' you said confidently.

Lando was quick to shoot out of his room and not a minute later he was walking back in, pumping himself as he ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth before sliding it on himself. It was tight, anyone would be able to see that with how bigger than average he was. But for now, it would do the job, hopefully.

You watched on in anticipation, really took you time to gawk him up and down and you couldn't help but feel the blood rushing down to your core. He was so fucking hot, and right now you wanted him to ruin you. Use you as he pleased, because god you were putty in his hands right now.

Once he was done putting the condom on, he looked at you and gave you a cheeky smile, as if he was proud of his efforts.

That lasted all but a few seconds because the smile was quickly replaced by a dark lust in his eyes.

As eager as you were to finally have him in ways you'd only dreamed about until now, there was still a part of you that was nervous as hell because, one, he was thick, very thick, and two, this would change everything, and you only hoped it would be for the better.

Lando cupped your face again and gave your forehead a quick peck, as if he could see the wheels turning in your mind.

''Baby'' he whispered, as he lined his dick up at your entrance.

You nodded, and he let himself slide in, all the way in with a single thrust.

You held your breath and shut your eyes, nails digging into his biceps as Lando left little pecks all over your shoulders.

The stretch was blood sore, but as he pulled out and thrust back in again, the pleasure started to take over the pain.

He was going slow, allowing your body to get used to the intrusion as he hiked one of your legs up to his hip and held it in place.

He continued at a slow pace for a few more thrusts before you told him it was okay to go faster.

Now, Lando was relentless, fucking into you continuously as all you did was bite you lower lip as hard as you good, whimpers and broken breaths leaving your mouth.

Lando himself was letting out moans, praising you through gritted teeth.

''Fuck y/n, so fucking tight but taking me so well. Shit. Never felt this good before. Fuck me you're incredible''

You won't lie. Hearing his praise you like that was turning you on even more, though it seemed impossible at this point. But just listening to his hoarse voice had your body trembling in his arms.

''Lando, gonna cum. Fuck'' you breathed out, moans getting louder by the second as he was burying himself deep inside of you.

''Do it'' he mumbled as he caught your left nipple between his teeth and bit down harshly at it.

''Fuck too much'' you squealed. You could feel him smile against you as he soothed his tongue over and blew on it to relieve it.

Lando snaked his hand down to your clit, he had barely touched it and you felt your orgasm over come you, your body shaking violently in his arms as you gushed warm sticky juice all over his cock, having him groaning at ''how fucking sexy'' you are.

He gave you no time to come down from you high, immediately pulling out and turning your body around so your back was to him.

You just about fumbled as you quickly reached your hand down and pulled the condom off, desperate to feel him. His eyes grew wide but all you did was send him a wink as you heard him mutter a few swear words to himself.

You grabbed his dick again and positioned it against you again, before Lando rammed himself into you, the new position having him go even deeper than he was before, making it feel a thousand times better without the condom.

''Fuck me, Lando, fuck'' you moaned, probably the most pornographic noises you'd ever made before.

''I am fucking you baby. And you're taking me so well. Never felt so fucking good before'' he said, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

The pace was raw, unfiltered, as if you were both starved of each other. Lando's hands were surely leaving purple marks on your hips how hard he was pressing down on you, and his cock was surely bruising your insides as he relentlessly thrust in and out of you until you were a moaning mess again, body shuddering in the wake of another orgasm ripping through you.

''Fuck, i'm gonna cum. Where?'' he impatiently asked.

''In me, fuck, please'' you begged.

Within seconds Lando emptied his milky load into you, ropes of it already leaking out and down your thigh as he slowly decreased his pace to ride you both through, both your bodies shaking and overstimulated, high of adrenaline.

Lando leaned forward onto you, squeezing you between his body and the door as your mind tried to catch up to what just happened.

His head was in your neck, and you could feel his curls sticky with sweat as his cool breath left goosebumps on your skin due to the chill of your own sweat.

Neither of you said anything for a while, just basking in each others bodies as you tried to catch your breath.

You could feel Lando softening inside of you as he started leaving wet kisses along your shoulders and back.

His hand found yours, and you both hissed as he slowly pulled out, turning your body back to face him.

He gave you a sheepish smile, cheeks flushed as you bit down on your bottom lip, not knowing what was gonna come next.

Lando tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

''You're so fucking amazing y/n, and I've waited way too fucking long to do this''

''We...waited too long to that'' you said, emphasizing on the ''we''

Suddenly you saw Lando getting to his knees again, and as much as you couldn't wait fro more from him, you were fucking sore.

''Lan, too much'' you whispered, latching onto his hair.

''I know'' he said softly as he let his tongue run through your folds, collecting the mixture of cum before he got back up and pryed your mouth open.

You held your breath as he let the cum drip from his mouth down to yours before giving you a feverish, toe curling kiss, the both of you moaning at the taste of each other.

A few minutes later, and Lando, being the gentleman he is, cleaned you up and pulled you into his bed, your body curling at his side.

''So...goes without saying, but be my girlfriend? I mean, you're already living with me..and I've already made you squirt'' he smirked

You felt your cheeks flush, ''Ug Lando!'' you couldn't help but try to hide your face until he pulled your body to lay on top of his.

''And it was the hottest thing I've ever seen'' he said, smiling genuinely.

''Yes'' you said softly.

''Yeah?'' he asked, eyes growing wide and full of excitement.

''Yeah'' you said, leaning down to kiss him for the hundredth time today, feeling his hands on your ass giving you a few playful smacks.

Hope y’all enjoyed this! Please do leave comments and remember requests are always open xx

[nicksolemnlyswears]

STAY WITH US

this oneshot can be read as a standalone.

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME (PT. 2 HELAENA'S TURN)

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader x helaena targaryen

word count: ~2.7k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of death of a child, mentions of blood, light cursing

a/n: so i lied, so sorry, my apologies, remember how i said i wanted this part to be smut? well it didn't happen. in the end it didn't seem right because these oneshots originated form a place of care and comfort [not horniness like usual]

that being said i am open to doing a series of small oneshots based on their relationship that are more spicy because regardless it lives rent free on my brain and i'd love to share the pervertedness they'd get up to. also i've never written a threesome and that seems like a good writing exercise.

hope you like this oneshot. it's really sweet and when i was thinking of what else to do with them it simply clicked. my only wish is for it to have the same comfort provoking feeling as the other two. while this little series was written as a way for me to feel better about these characters it makes me happy to know it served the same purpose for a lot of you guys. also this was my first time writing for HoTD and you're all so nice ;) THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE.

enjoy!

Without Jaehaerys by her side, his twin sister Jaehaera must adjust to being alone. Her lifelong playmate is gone, and now she ought to find her place as an only child.

The silver-haired girl restlessly jumps through different activities, searching for the one that will entertain her long enough without company. It is difficult because each time she successfully gets distracted, she turns to catch her brother's attention, only to find he's no longer there.

Queen Helaena watches her as she stitches together a new embroidery piece for a dress. The Queen spent her days with both her children, but now that one of them is gone, she spends nearly every waking moment with her daughter. Observing. Protecting. Alert.

"The three-headed dragon shall rise once more," Helaena mumbles under her breath. The maids ignore her mumblings. The Queen's words don't make sense half the time.

A squeal of delight from her daughter prompts the needle to pierce Helaena's finger and a bead of blood forms at the pad of it. Looking up, she finds you picking up Jaehaera and kissing her chubby cheeks. The girl is enamored by her cousin and the attention you provide.

"Good morrow, 'Laena," you brightly greet her, setting down Jaehaera and sitting by her on the floor. "Have you broken fast yet?"

Helaena places a hand in yours as a greeting and nods kindly, assuring you she's been eating all her meals. At times, her appetite turns into nausea as glimpses of her dead son invade her senses, but she tries fighting through it.

She closes her eyes and thinks of anything else—primarily you. You who distract her and treat her with such care without judgment of her eccentricities. It's odd how she's caught herself multiple times seeking your approval.

As Helaena returns to her stitching, Jaehaera bounces over and falls into your arms. "I wish for my hair to be like yours."

"Allow me, Princess," Jaehaera's nursemaid intervenes. She does not wish to be seen as lazy and incapable of her job to care for the children.

The small Princess holds tightly onto you, hiding her face on your chest as she settles on your lap. "No, I want my cousin to do it. She's a Princess, and I want Princess's hair."

You giggle at her words and gesture to the nursemaid that it's alright. "Come on, sweet girl, sit," you coo, positioning her in front of you.

One of the maids hands you a hairbrush, and you begin your work. As a Princess, your hair is mostly styled by your maids, but every lady should know how to style it appropriately.

"You're such a pretty girl, Jaehaera. Did you know that?" You talk to distract her from squirming too much. She's an impatient little thing, like her father.

Jaehaera giggles sound throughout the room. She hasn't laughed like that since her brother died. It brings a sad smile to Helaena's lips.

"You're prettier," Jaehaera whispers bashfully, her cheeks a healthy hue of pink.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're much more beautiful. Do you know why?"

Jaehaera shakes her head, causing you to hold tightly onto the intricate plaits you're weaving in her hair. You inadvertently smile at her benightedness.

"Because you look just like your mummy, and she's very beautiful, and she's a Queen," you gasp lightly, creating a tone of excitement in your voice.

Although she's kept her nose down while stitching, Helaena's cheeks burn just as brightly as her daughters. Your words continue to flatter her. You have a way with words that can make even the most ordinary of townsfolk feel special.

With a small, excited gasp, Jaehaera asks, "Will I be Queen one day?"

"There's always a possibility," you hum, pining the remaining plait into her hair. It is hard to explain the complexities of succession and legacy to a child when there is a current war debating that same subject. "All done, go over to the mirror."

"She adores you," Helaena sighs as she watches her daughter fawn over her new hairstyle.

"And I, her. She's the sweetest girl ever."

Helaena turns to look at you and sees the soft smile gracing your lips. Your eyes then catch hers, and your smile broadens. It makes her wonder what her life would be like if you were not around. How would she have dealt with her emotions?

"I must go, but can you come to my bedchambers tonight? There is a matter I must discuss with you," Helaena says timidly, casting aside her embroidery.

"As you wish, my Queen." You can't fault her for preferring to speak in the depth of the night when the castle sleeps, and there are no wandering eyes to pass judgment.

It gives Helaena whiplash when you effortlessly switch from calling her name to calling her 'my Queen.' She rather enjoys both terms, especially when you call her yours.

Helaena bids you farewell with a kiss on the cheek, blissfully unaware of its effect on you. Such displays of affection are not rare in court, but lately, their significance has changed for you, as Helaena has never been one to indulge in court etiquette when it involves physical touch.

When the sun has disappeared over the horizon, and the castle has quieted down, you make your way to the Queen's bed chambers.

You have always been inclined to stay in the shadows, where it's safe. You are a sheep amongst a den of wolves, and if you draw too much attention to yourself, danger will follow.

You have failed so far, considering you enjoy the company of the King and Queen. Grief unexpectedly brought you together and made your bond steadfast, but wherever Aegon and Helaena go, watchful gazes follow, thus making you part of the spectacle as well.

Otto and Alicent Hightower are taking the reins of this unnecessary war, but you feel safe under Aegon's and Helaena's careful watch. You believe they will protect you from any danger coming from within the castle walls, at the very least.

You're doing your mother a great disservice as you strengthen the bond of the King and Queen. The ache of losing a child will forever remain in their hearts, and waves of pain continue to crash, but that thick fog of grief that was cast upon them has slowly started to lift, thanks to you.

Pushing open the door to Helaena's bedchambers, you step into the room. It's well into the night, and the candlelight illuminates the room. You stumble over your steps when you notice Aegon and Helaena standing close together as if they were about to kiss.

"My apologies, your graces. I believed the Queen to be alone," you bow your head, red painting your cheeks. It's a gesture that originates from embarrassment rather than submissiveness.

"Do not apologize. We wished to speak to you," Aegon speaks, beckoning you deeper into the room.

He offers you a goblet of wine, which you accept gracefully to alleviate the dizzying wave of nerves you're feeling. You've never been alone with Aegon and Helaena. People have always been around, and up to a fortnight ago, they barely spoke to one another.

The ruling couple sought your counsel regarding their marriage, recognizing you as an intermediary. You offered your advice to the best of your abilities, considering you have yet to marry.

With time and encouragement, they reached out to each other for comfort. Piece by piece, they were able to speak and share the emotions that troubled them. Nonetheless, they kept you closer than ever.

You're the calm amidst the storm.

You take a drink of the sweet wine to busy yourself. Helaena and Aegon stand side by side, his hand on the small of her back as Helaena plays with her fingers. They're backlit by the fire burning by the fireplace. It casts a warm glow over their figures, making the situation seem much more intimate. You're certainly intruding.

"We wish to thank you for everything you've done for us recently," Helaena breaks the creeping silence. She's just as nervous as you are, if not more.

"Helaena and I have been thinking about how to repay you for your generosity," Aegon continues, staring intently back at you to gauge your reaction to his words. He's afraid of reading you wrong and fucking things up—like he usually does.

You instantly shake your head, "As I said before, there is no need-"

Helaena's following words cause silence to befall as you stare back at them in surprise. A sort of surprise they cannot read. "We wish to wed you," Helaena blurts nervously, her fingers twisting together.

This is not a moment to speak in riddles. Helaena is fully aware of the situation before her and wishes nothing more than for you to stay by their side, no matter the cost.

For once in her life, she hasn't felt lonely in the castle. She has an ally she can trust and confide in.

You've been the subject of Aegon and Helaena's conversations for numerous nights. At first, it was difficult to understand that they both held deep affection towards you while caring for each other. They debated for a long time about what to do about it and they agreed on one thing wholeheartedly—you only deserved the best.

Then, it came to Aegon.

He's named after Aegon' The Conqueror' Targaryen. The King took over the seven kingdoms with his sister wives by his side.

A simple Valyrian tradition would solve their dilemma while strengthening his claim to the throne. It's poetic, a part of history being re-enacted.

"Pardon?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You stare back at them with wide eyes as they jump from Aegon to Helaena and back to Aegon.

The goblet in your hand lightly shakes along with your hand. You place it on a nearby table, afraid of spilling it. Surely, you misheard.

"Our affection grows greater day by day. More than we ever thought possible," Helaena confesses, desperately reaching for your hand.

Your gaze falls on Aegon to seek his opinion, and he nods in agreement. There is not much to say. You have proved yourself valuable to them in a way that is much too important. You serve to keep them sane and emotionally stable. A feat no one has cared to accomplish before.

You do not use Aegon as a puppet or manipulate him to achieve sinister goals on behalf of his name, much like the rest of the court does. Those people only care for power, even if they break Aegon piece by piece. They destroy him while you take the time to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

"Such drastic actions must not be taken. I merely offered you comfort when you needed it because I care for you both," you stutter, pressing a hand to your forehead. All of a sudden, the room is warm, and a layer of perspiration forms on the back of your neck.

Aegon grunts and approaches you, cupping your face in his palms, "That is precisely why we wish to do this. You have cared for us like no one has before, including ourselves. You planted yourself in our souls, and now we cannot let you go lest we go insane. If you do not feel the same, say it, but do not lie to us."

His tone is firm, yet he cannot disguise the pleading behind it. He's never wanted something as much as he wants you.

"I-" Your palms ghost over the top of his.

It is all too much. The prospect of being wed looms over your head like a threat. Otto Hightower will have no qualms about using your lack of a husband as a war strategy. It should not be his decision in the first place, but it is out of your hands as you're considered a prisoner to him.

You would be a liar if you said you did not reciprocate their feelings. They've been present for a while now, it is why comforting them comes so easily to you. Seeing them hurt only pains you.

With this new opportunity, you will no longer be used. You will not be sold to some old lord in the countryside for the gain of a few hundred men. You would be protected.

Most importantly, you will marry a man and a woman who love you. Yes, they are broken, but with you by their side, they will thrive and rise to the occasion.

Aegon's lilac eyes beg you to accept their proposal. "I feel emotions I thought impossible. They are confusing and overwhelming, but they are real," you admit.

Relief floods over Aegon, and he can't help but release a sigh of relief. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a silent thank you to the old gods and the new.

"Will you become our wife? Our lifelong companion?" Helaena asks, coming up behind you. You feel her breath on your neck as she leans her head on your shoulder.

One word is enough to respond. One simple word will change your life. For good or bad is to be determined.

"Yes," you breathe, reaching for her hand. The smile on Aegon's lips and Helaena's giggles in your ear make it all worth it.

Aegon needed to do things right so no one could argue against your union. He contacted the Septon himself, and only a day later, after his proposal, the Valyrian ceremony took place.

He clearly instructed his guard and the Septon that they must not tell anyone, or there would be consequences.

The ceremony is quick and private amongst the gardens of the Red Keep. You wear the traditional red and gold robes and headpieces that match Aegon's.

A red dragon decorates the front of your garb, matching Helaena's golden one on her dress. She stands to the side with a faint smile, Jaehaera clinging to her dress.

Aegon carefully cuts your lip with the dragon glass. As blood surges to the surface, he presses his thumb to the cut and later spreads it across your skin. You repeat the same on his lips, staring apologetically back at him, yet the burning pain does not compare to the pain he's felt before. It's almost pleasurable as he takes in the symbolism of the gesture.

Cutting your palms, you let the blood that will bind you together for eternity fall onto the goblet. You lock eyes with Aegon as you take a drink from it, passing it to him a moment later.

He was not raised surrounded by Targaryen customs, but he has a new deep appreciation for them. The ceremony is deeply intimate as they share the blood that will mark them as one.

With a couple of final words, the Septon concludes the ceremony and with the knowledge that you are entirely theirs, Aegon crashes his lips against yours.

Aegon stayed firm in his words. He did not wish to sully your name, so he waited until the moment was right. The reward is much too sweet.

It is the first time you've shared a kiss with Aegon, and it is unlike anything you've felt before. In the past, you've snuck kisses in dark corners of the Red Keep, but none have ever kissed you with the intensity Aegon has to offer.

Helaena approaches your tangled embrace, and as you resurface for a breath, she presses her much more delicate lips on yours. The kiss is so different yet the same simultaneously. The intent behind it is identical while the pace is slower and sultrier.

Yours and Aegon’s blood coats her lips and it’s as if she also partook on the ceremony. Your heart beats intensely inside your chest but you’re happy.

Finally, you three are bonded, destined to stay together for eternity.

Jaehaerys will forever be missed. His life has become a mystery; Aegon and Helaena will never see it fulfilled. But in this tragedy, the gods were kind to Aegon and Helaena and provided a new person to love, cherish, and join their family.

were you expecting a good old throuple situation? eh, eh (pretend i'm wiggling my eyebrows and nudging your side with my elbow). im just saying she's perfect for their little dysfunctional family and the drama it will create with the Hightowers and Targaryens? immaculate.

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and gushing about hel and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

[lightseoul]

REVENGE (KEEP US TOGETHER) (1.9k)

a/n. this bkg lives rent-free in my mind. i had scenes and interactions that i wanted to insert in this scenario, but i think i blacked out 300 words in and bakugou and y/n just took the reins from there. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy this one!

c.w. pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (~26), mentions of injuries, mentions of canon-typical violence

the first thing that registers in your mind the moment your eyes flutter (creak) open is that the ceiling looks unfamiliar.

the second thing is that everything hurts like a motherfucking bitch.

but apparently being in a wholly foreign place is enough to trigger the metaphorical alarms in your head, at least enough for you to still muster the strength and presence of mind to scan the area—first, the space on your right—despite the way your body’s practically screaming at you.

what immediately catches your attention is your right arm. it’s nowhere in sight, but you can still vaguely recognize it being attached to the rest of your torso. it takes you a second to realize it’s elevated and wrapped in a thick, white cast, and the moment you do, another wave of pain courses through you, and you find yourself gritting your teeth in its wake.

a few feet behind your heavily bandaged arm seem to be two doors, one of which you think is the entrance to this dimly lit room, the other probably leading to a comfort room.

and, if all of these aren’t indicators enough, the faint beeping sound echoing across the small area gives you the definitive answer that yes, this is a hospital and yes, you are on a fucking hospital bed.

how the fuck did you end up here?

stifling a groan, you attempt to turn your head to the left to examine the other half of the room.

and that’s when you see it.

you freeze—not because the minuscule movement is causing a nauseating throbbing in your frontal lobe—but because you see it.

the all-too-familiar, unruly ash-blonde spikes that can belong to only one person.

from where you lay flat on top of the increasingly uncomfortable bed, you can barely see his forehead, but there’s no denying it.

even more so when the person speaks up.

“you’re awake.”

upon hearing his gruff voice, your stomach instantly drops in dread, so much so that it physically hurts, and you’re starting to think that maybe you’re bleeding internally, too, and that in the midst of whatever happened to you, you hurt your organs as well.

when he says your name in question a few beats later, you make no move to respond, but deep down you know you can’t just close your eyes and pretend you’re asleep again to avoid regarding him entirely.

he literally saw you moving just now.

and so you try to sit up, at least for a whole millisecond, because a pulse of pain shoots through the entirety of your body, and you can’t help the wrangled moan that tumbles out of your lips at the scalding sensation. you barely see him through your half-lidded eyes, but the man jumps up on his feet, finally coming into full view.

bakugou, who’s decked out in full hero gear is looking uncharacteristically worried when he asks: “are you okay?”

you clench your eyes closed, fighting the urge to squirm in discomfort. you merely shake your head, as subtly as you can lest you bust a fucking nerve on your neck, before: “elevate my backrest. i can’t sit up.”

“shit, right.”

it takes him a beat to figure out the controls at the side of your bunk, but when he finally does, you find yourself slowly inclining up until to about 45 degrees.

up 45 degrees and now face-to-face with him.

once the contraption clicks into place, bakugou sits back down on what looks like a stool beside you, an inexplicable expression etched on his features.

and before you can even think better against them, the words are already out of your mouth.

“what are you doing here?”

that must not have been what he was expecting or wanting to hear, because his face immediately contorts into a look of borderline offense.

“the fuck do you mean ‘what am i doing here’?” he scoffs, folding his muscled arms across his expansive chest. “you almost got abducted, dumbass. you’re lucky you made it out alive.”

abducted?

the last thing you remember before you most likely blacked out and were sent to the hospital was that you were just exiting the grocery store that you frequent on Fridays after work when an oddly familiar-looking man appeared before you. he didn’t seem too harmless right up until he emitted his quirk that sent you tumbling across the asphalt and…

that’s just about where your memory cuts off.

“what happened?” you manage to choke out, suddenly feeling scared.

“as i said,” he starts, voice low and strangely hesitant, “you almost got abducted. you passed out after you hit the neighboring building arm first, but a pro-hero patrolling the area managed to get you before the villain could take you with him.”

you gawk at the man. “what the hell would a villain want to do with me?”

at that, bakugou’s face hardens.

“…’s because they want to get back at me.”

a million things beg to be spoken out of your mouth in an instant, but what you end up saying is: “why are you here, then? shouldn’t you be with the police or in the agency if this guy’s got a vendetta against you?”

“seriously?” he retorts, incredulous, before shaking his head in what you think is frustration. his eyes shift to the rest of your body, “you’re fucking injured and yet you’re asking all these stupid questions.”

you feel yourself flame in indignation, but you bite your tongue. if you allow yourself to speak, you may end up saying something you’ll regret later.

“…but if you must know,” he pipes up all of a sudden, catching you off guard, “they said i was your emergency contact.”

his voice is quiet when he asks: “you didn’t change it?”

you gulp despite yourself. thankfully, his eyes remain trained on yours and do not drift down to your throat.

“i forgot to,” you lie out of your ass.

you are not about to tell him it’s because you haven’t had the heart to remove him as your favorite contact, let alone delete his number.

“well…” he starts, diverting his gaze onto the pillow beside you, “…that and the fact that this villain has been after me ever since he got out of prison. fucking bastard can’t accept i apprehended him so fast back then. guess it hurt his fucking ego and wanted revenge.”

you stare at the pro-hero, debating as to whether or not to say the next thing, ultimately deciding for it.

“…and he was planning to do that by hurting me.”

bakugou’s eyes drift towards you again at your statement, a serious glint in them, although he doesn’t say anything in response.

a long pause.

“why didn’t you just tell them we aren’t together anymore?” you finally ask. “you could’ve just referred them to my family or best friends or something.”

“and have them be on my ass about us breaking up?” he quips almost instantaneously. “you were rushed to the er—i didn’t have time for that shit. and in case you’ve forgotten from that time they found out about us—”

“of course i haven’t,” you cut him off, eyes trained downcast on your fiddling fingers. “it wasn’t like i wanted the media to find out we were together in the first place. my point is that it would save you a lot of trouble if we just suck it up and announce it. that way, you won’t have to play pretend and be forced to be my guardian, and i don’t get targeted by vengeful villains anymore.”

when you finally look up at the man, the frown that found its place on bakugou’s mouth at the start of your spiel has apparently now deepened into a scowl.

“what?” you ask before you can rein yourself in.

“i’m sorry you got hurt,” he states sternly. “ i should’ve kept a closer eye on you despite everything, and i’m taking full responsibility for what happened. but—”

“—katsuki,” you try to interject.

“—but don’t think i’m in front of you right now just because i feel guilty or that i just didn’t want to deal with the fucking press,” he huffs. “i—”

you wait for a moment for him to continue, but he doesn’t. his mouth only opens as if he’s going to say something before it closes again, then opens, and closes.

despite yourself, your heart physically aches at the sight of him struggling to verbalize his feelings. you hesitate for a second, before finally deciding to say it.

“…i know what you mean.”

at that, bakugou whips to look at you, an almost imperceptible, stunned expression on his sullen features. “you do?”

you nod. “…i still care for you, too, you know? even if i try to talk myself out of it, i still find myself going through the news all the time to make sure you’re alright.”

and you really, really do.

because, at the end of the day, you didn’t break up because you fell out of love or anything remotely close to that.

it was an amicable agreement to part ways because you had absolutely little to no time for each other—what with bakugou’s demanding schedule as a rising pro-hero—and almost every little time he had free was always in conflict with your own career.

you both tried to make it work, you really did—adjusting and compromising and adapting in every way you could—but when it all boiled down to it you were always left disappointed, frustrated, and frustratingly yearning for each other.

and so before the love you’ve carefully cultivated together could morph into ugly resentment—with you hating each other��you both decided to just call it quits.

you chance a glance at the man, whose gaze has visibly softened at your admission.

and you wish you really couldn’t, or you wish you’d forget how to recognize it, but you can’t deny the look of what you’ve long identified as longing that’s written all over his face.

but before you can say anything about it, a soft array of knocks resonates from the door, catching both of your attention.

not a few seconds after, a nurse squeezes herself through the entrance, holding a clipboard close to her chest.

“sorry to interrupt your conversation,” she starts, painfully timid, “but i just wanted to inform you that the premiere suite is now ready, and we can now move the patient there.”

you whip (as much as you can, at least) to look at bakugou, who only shoots you a look telling you to just roll with it. you purse your lips in a thin line, itching to protest, but manage to not say anything as the nurse continues.

“…i’ll also have to talk to mr. bakugou later on as he is your registered guardian. i’ll just drop by again later in the suite so i can take your vitals as well. that’s basically it for now, thank you!”

and just as fast as she appeared, the nurse was gone.

when you’re sure she’s out of earshot, you turn to the man. “this is too much, katsuki.”

he merely shakes his head but again, doesn’t say anything.

you stare at him for a few more beats before finally sighing in what you feel is resignation.

this is going to be a long night.

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @k0z3me

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 my asks are always open as well. have a lovely day, y'all!

[sleep-0-deprived]

HEYYY I CAN REQUEST KITSUNE!DAZAI WITH TOP!SUB!READER, WITH BREEDING KINK AND WITH A BIT OF FOREPLAY, AMAB OF COURSE (PLEASE KITSUNE DAZAI HAS BEEN LEAVING IN MY MIND RENT FREE AND THERE ISN'T ENOUGH KITSUNE DAZAI BLOGS)

Desperation ~

Kitstune dazai x dom bottom male reader

Female aligned dni and Mdni this is an 18+ only blog with nsfw below the cut

A/N edited omg your right there aren’t hardly any kistune dazai fics and him with breeding! I think we have the same mind there anyway enough with my rant hope you enjoy I just saw I did your request backwards I’m so sorry bout that!

Mating season, it was something dazai knew all too well and he absolutely loved and hated it all together, he hated feeling the desperation to breed between his legs but god did you love breeding you although to his disappointment he could never knock you up? But oh well he’ll keep trying!

So here he was under you gasping and whining “pleasee I need to be inside you baby!~” begging as his cock twitches in your hand while stroking his hard cock as it drips pre cum all over your hand making a sticky mess as his tail wags his ears laying flat “you need to breed huh? Wanna stuff me already?”

You ask as your hand finds its way to his shaft while he try’s to fuck his cock into your fist making his cock pulse as your grip “yes! Mhm needa fill you up baby please let me stuff your hole—“

dazai groans and pounces on you pleading as his cock slips from your hand twitching as haunt your thigh as he begs with his tail swaying.

“So tempting dazai? You’re always so needy when it’s mating season….” Rolling your eyes as you push him on his back on your bed with his head against the head board as you undo your pants slipping your boxers off leaving your cock springing hard up against your stomach.

“N-no baby please don’t want you to ride me~! I wanna fuck you this time I wanna mount you wanna be on top pleasee~!” He pleaded looking up at you as he lays rock hard with his cock hard and needy for your attention “hm? What’s that? Maybe I should let you just this once since your being so good dazai!”

Giggling as you nod allowing him to be on top of you fucking you as you lay on your chest letting your ass stay raised up as you turn your head guiding his cock to your ass as your rim puckers around his tip making his thighs tremble his ears laying flat.

He lays on top of you whining like some lost puppy as he shoved his cock inside you letting your walls clench and suck around his cock all warm as your rim stretches wide adjusting to him.

“Baby please please! Needa move my hips!” Dazai drools in your ear kissing and licking your neck all over from behind trembling to keep his hips from moving as he fights the urge to start fucking you like a rabbit with his tail twitching and flicking at the end.

“You can move dazai~” you nod with a small moan as he holds your hips tightly digging his nails into you without wasting a second he starts pounding into you capping and putting right into your ear making you grip hold of the bed sheets tight “thank you! thank you baby I love you so much!~”

dazai drools out all high on sex pollen as he thrusts snapping his hips rapidly making your ass cheeks red as he holds you his arms around you moving from your hips starting to thrust as his cock jumps his tip leaking hard inside your ass stretching you out as he nails your prostate making you roll your eyes back.

“That’s good dazai~ keep goin just like that~” you whine out as you bite on the bed sheets drooling going numb to the pleasure beneath the horny kitsune knowing he was always so erratic moving his hips so fast fucking you desperately.

Dazai keeps gripping you like a possession about to be ripped away as his kistune senses flair up in his head not thinking anything except “must breed” as he fucks you nibbling on the back of your neck as he lays on your back mounting you making your bed creak.

“Gonna make you so full~ carrying my litter tummy bloated please let me please~!” Dazai slips one hand off your hip gripping your ass cheek tightly rubbing circles pinching it making your rim stretch wide for his girth.

“your gonna cum aren’t you dazai?~” you moan out feeling his tip twitching and the stutter in his hips feeling yourself close as he nails your prostate making your own cock jump in arousal dripping your own pre cum on the not so pristine sheets.

“Mh hmm~ m gonna cu—“ before he can whine out the rest of his words he gasps gripping your skin tight drooling on the back of your neck shoving himself as deep inside you he can go as he hits your deepest parts cumming staining your insides white as it rubs against your prostate just right all the sensations building up pushing you over the edge to as your cock tip drips a few more beads of pre cum before cumming all over the bed sheets with thick white ropes spitting out messily making you gasp trembling with your hands balled up in the sheets arching your back.

“Y-yes dazai!~” you manage to muster out as you feel your body full your ass stuffed full of his cum making it bloat slightly from receiving your fill but that doesn’t stop dazai, he’s too far loopy and needy only being able to think about breeding you not accepting the fact your a human man nope! You just need more cum that’s all? And he’ll gladly supply you with it!

“Need be bred more~ “dazai purrs out his ears drooping low on his head as he lays on top of you still buried deep inside you mounting you as you lay beneath him still stuffed full while his hips stutter and start fucking you again whining his pupils all dilated gripping your hips bruising them as your ass clenched around him abused and overstimulated easily from being stretched open for so long.

“That’s it dazai~!” You groan dropping your head in the bed sheets as his tail wags rapidly and his hands tremble as ropes of his cum get pumped in and out of you coating his shaft as he fucks you harder pounding your prostate with his body filled with the desperation and the need to breed you to knock you up to give you a litter. Wanting to impregnate you with kits needing you to be the mommy for them despite you being a man.

His brain is clouded in a lust filled fog irrationally imagining you pregnant as he keeps pumping his hips already close to cumming again as he licks the back of your neck trying to coat you in his scent as your mouth goes agape your eyes rolled back blabbering incoherient moans.

“Close ~ “groaning out as your cock pulses hard again with your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave while he fucks you through it leaving your ears ringing as your load spills all over the messy sheets only further staining them with your load as the room is filled with sticky sounds and the squelching of your now wet ass pumped with cum as he twitches inside you when your walls tighten around him.

“Needa breed you more~” dazai rambles drunkenly in your ear gasping as sweat coats his thin body as he lays on top of you snapping his hips harder as his cock pulses Cumming for the second time as his hips stutter pressing as deep as he can trying to make sure not a drop of him is wasted.

“O oh ng~ more cum~” he purrs out drooling on the back of your neck with his fluffy ears laying flat on his head with his tail swaying behind him as he holds still in you with your stomach full swelling slightly as his cum oozes out around his cum obviously over filled but dazai can’t stop now! That’s only two load? You need more to get pregnant right? Well he’ll just have to keep going til your pregnant then!

[claramelooo]

WOVEN FATES (4/???)

The Carnaval week are coming, so I am having a few moments to chill and write for you.

Just enjoy my perfection!

MINOR DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader

Summary: External events take away your control of your own life.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist.

Control

The day began like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. The plants, once vibrant, now wilted in their pots, as if the universe itself were draining the life around you. The weather, unstable and oppressive, mirrored the chaos settling in your mind. And the headache—oh, the headache—hammered at your temples like a warning that nothing else would go right. It felt as if the world were conspiring against you, and you had no idea just how true that was.

As you descended the stairs of your building, you nearly tripped over the yellow envelope waiting innocently in your mailbox. The landlord’s notice was a dull blade, cutting without mercy: "Building sold. Demolition in 60 days. Mandatory eviction."

Your hands trembled as they clutched the paper, your fingers pressing into it with the force of despair. That tiny 23m² box was all you had—a precarious refuge, yes, but yours. The only place where rent didn’t devour your waitress salary at the café. It didn’t get much sunlight, and the leaks never failed to show up when it rained, but it was home. And now, even that was being taken from you.

But there was no time for panic to settle. The bus arrived honking, and you ran, your broken heel striking the asphalt like a metronome of misfortune. Traffic was at a standstill, the bus’s air conditioning spat out moldy air, and your phone vibrated. It was your father. You answered out of instinct, never imagining that call would be yet another blow.

"What the hell are you doing?!" His voice cut like a jagged saw, rough and filled with fury. "Your brother... that disgusting excuse of a brother…"

Your heart stopped. Josh. You imagined him dead, beaten, run over. But the truth was worse.

"I caught him with a man in our house! In my bed!" Your father spat the words as if they were poison. “And you’re going to fix this. Now. He should be on his way.”

"Dad, I… I’m on my way to work, I can’t—"

"You’re the only one he listens to!" He roared, and you pulled the phone away from your ear, embarrassed. The other passengers were staring, their gazes pressing into you like silent judgments. "Fix it."

The call ended. You swallowed your sobs and despair, chewing them down as you bit your nails until they bled. The bus finally reached your stop, but you couldn’t even remember getting off. Your thoughts were scrambled, your mind racing in every direction. Work, your brother, the eviction—it all blurred into a fog of agony.

The bus terminal smelled of stale coffee and desperation. Flickering fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow on cracked plastic benches, illuminating weary faces staring at the ground as if the answer to all their troubles was written in the dirty linoleum. You ran between platforms, your heart pounding in rhythm with the loudspeakers announcing departures to distant places. Each destination sounded like a farewell.

And then you saw him.

Josh was sitting in the darkest corner of Platform 4, his worn-out backpack clutched in his lap like a shield. His right eye was swollen shut, purple and bruised, a red gash splitting his eyebrow. And yet, he smiled when he saw you—a shaky smile, full of broken teeth and shame.

"Josh…" You swallowed the lump in your throat, approaching slowly, as if he were a wounded animal.

"Hey, sis," he said, his voice hoarse. He tried to stand but stumbled, and you rushed to steady him. His body smelled of dried blood and cheap menthol ointment.

You sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, just like when you were kids hiding under the stairs from your parents’ fights. You pulled a damp tissue from your bag and started cleaning the blood from his face, your hands trembling.

"Did he hit you?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

Josh laughed—a bitter sound. "Not just him. A friend of his... thought I was hitting on his son. So he and two other guys waited for me in the alley." He rested his head against the wall, closing his good eye. "Three against one. I did okay, though."

You couldn’t hold back your tears. You remembered him at sixteen, teaching you how to ride a bike, his hands already calloused from work. You remembered the nights he came home late from the grocery store job, his uniform stained with grease, yet he still helped you with your math homework.

"Why didn’t you ever tell me?" you whispered.

Josh opened his eyes, staring into nothing. "You were too young and already had too much on your plate. Work, school, taking care of Grandma... How could I throw one more problem at you?" He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faded tattoo of a bird in flight. "Besides, the world out there... it’s not made for people like me, sis."

You grabbed his hand, his fingers rough from carrying boxes. "You are not a problem, Josh. You never were."

He looked at you, his good eye glistening. "You know the worst part? It’s not the beatings, not Dad calling me a freak… It’s having to pretend for 32 years. Pretending I liked it when he talked about women, pretending I was with my fiancée when I disappeared from home…" His voice cracked, and you felt the weight of every word.

You knew you had to do something. With your heart clenched, you stood up slowly, determined. You helped Josh up and took him to your apartment, silently promising yourself you’d find him a job. If your father didn’t want him anymore, maybe you could give him a fresh start.

On the way, as you waited for a taxi, your thoughts tangled into a storm: the eviction notice, Josh being kicked out, your father’s relentless demands.

The taxi carried you through the maze of the city. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you typed a quick message to América:

Family emergency. I’ll be late. Can you cover for me?

After settling Josh in, you ran to work. América greeted you with a look of exasperation, muttering something like, “You’re impossible.”

And during your lunch break, you scrolled through apartment listings, but none were within your budget—not with you and Josh living together now. You huffed in frustration. Josh. You needed to find him a job. And then, an idea struck you.

Someone.

You reached into your bag, fingers searching frantically for a solution, until they found the card. Black, with elegant silver lettering. It looked almost out of place among your simple belongings. You hesitated for a moment but knew you had no other choice.

Dialing the numbers on your phone, you heard the line ring only twice before a familiar voice answered.

“Hey, Rio.”

"Little gem! To what do I owe the honor?” The woman’s cheerful voice made the confusion in your mind dissipate slightly.

“I… I need help.” Your voice cracked. You barely knew the woman, but you didn’t have many options.

The hesitation in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Rio. On the other end of the line, you could hear the smile forming.

“Of course you do,” Rio replied, with an almost irritating certainty. Her voice was sweeter than usual, but with an underlying firmness that made your nerves dance. “Tell me what’s going on, little gem.”

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. The headache was still throbbing, and the pressure of the situation made your throat feel even tighter.

“It’s…” Your voice trembled with shame, “I’d rather say it in person, if possible.”

Rio let out a small chuckle, as if savoring each of your words.

“Oh, you want to see me?” The teasing in her voice was clear. “That makes me curious, little gem.”

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine.

“Can we meet today?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. When Rio spoke again, her voice was lower, more enticing.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll send you the address. Come alone.”

The call ended before you could respond.

You stared at your phone for a few seconds, your heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

There was something about the way Rio spoke that made you feel like you were falling into a carefully woven web… and the worst part was that maybe you didn’t want to escape.

Minutes later, your phone vibrated with a message from Rio.

Urth Caffé. 7 PM. Don’t be late, little gem.

You frowned as you read the name. Urth Caffé was one of the most sophisticated and exclusive cafés in Los Angeles, the kind of place where you needed a reservation just to breathe near the entrance.

For a moment, you wondered if it was some sort of test. Or if Rio just wanted to make clear the difference between the worlds you two lived in.

But that didn’t matter now.

You put your phone away and tried to focus on work, but it was impossible. Your stomach was tied in knots. It was a mix of the meeting with Rio and the uncertainty of the future that made you restless.

Hours later, as your shift was about to end, the worst happened.

The café was busier than usual, the noise of espresso machines and the buzz of conversations blending into a constant hum. You picked up a full tray—three hot coffees, two slices of pie, and a glass of juice—and turned to take it to table 12.

Your body froze.

For a moment, you felt a presence. Something cold, like invisible fingers brushing the back of your neck. Your vision blurred, and it was as if the world around you had folded in on itself.

The tray slipped from your fingers.

Time slowed down. You saw the coffee flying through the air, the cups spinning as if suspended in zero gravity. The sound of glass shattering on the floor echoed through the café, followed by absolute silence.

The hot liquid spread across the floor and, worse, splashed onto the expensive pants of a man sitting near the accident.

He cursed loudly, standing up suddenly.

The blood drained from your face. You couldn’t understand what had just happened. Your grip on the tray had been firm. You were sure of it. But something… something had pulled it from your hand.

Before you could react, a shadow loomed over you.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!"

The tone of disdain was like a slap.

Your boss approached with heavy steps, his eyes full of fury. The entire café was watching.

"You already did me the favor of arriving late, and now this?" His voice cut like a razor. "Are you really this incompetent?"

"I… I don’t know what happened…" Your voice came out shaky. You tried to crouch down to clean up the mess, but he gestured sharply for you to stop.

"You don’t know?!" He laughed, a cruel and impatient sound. "You’re a walking disaster! I should have fired you weeks ago!"

Your face burned. You felt everyone’s eyes on you—some filled with pity, others just entertained by the humiliating spectacle.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly. The cold sensation on your neck was still there. You wanted to turn around, to look for something—someone. But there was no one.

"Leave your apron at the counter. You’re fired."

The words cracked like a whip.

You blinked. For a moment, you thought you had misheard. But then, América, who was behind the counter, widened her eyes and stepped forward.

"Mr. Howard, don’t you think that’s an overreaction? It was just an accident…"

"I don’t pay for incompetence, América." He turned to you again. "Out. Now."

Your fingers trembled as you untied your apron. You felt your eyes welling up, but you didn’t want to cry there. Not in front of everyone.

You placed the folded fabric on the counter, grabbed your bag, and left without looking back.

The air outside felt heavy, as if the whole city was about to swallow you.

The phone vibrating in your hand was the only sound that managed to pull you back to reality.

A new message.

I hope you have a good excuse for your delay, my dear.

Shit.

Maybe you needed to apply for two jobs now.

Urth Caffé was the kind of place where every detail screamed exclusivity. From the delicate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to the tiny porcelain cups holding absurdly expensive coffee. You had never stepped into a place like this before. Never felt the weight of so many expectations pressing down on you.

And at that moment, you felt the weight of Rio Vidal’s gaze, piercing into you like a sharp blade.

She was leaning against a white leather armchair, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest as if keeping time with her own impatience. The moss-green tailored suit she wore had a deep V neckline that dipped into the valley of her breasts, making her presence seem even larger in the room. You swallowed hard, feeling the urge to lean in just a little closer to get a better look.

Her light brown eyes scanned you from head to toe, stopping at your hands, still marked by the red of shame.

"Almost an hour late, little gem," she said, her voice as soft as the edge of a scalpel. "And I hate waiting."

The words were simple, but they carried a crushing weight.

You averted your gaze, looking down at the table. You noticed a cup of black coffee sitting in front of her. A fine piece of white porcelain with golden details. The dark liquid, with no trace of milk or sugar, looked almost like a stain against the cup’s purity.

Bitter.

Your stomach twisted. You opened your mouth to speak, but your tongue felt tied. Rio wasn’t like your boss. She didn’t yell, didn’t make a scene. But her pressure was much worse.

You swallowed hard.

"I’m sorry. I…"

The words failed before they could even leave your lips. Your heart pounded. Rio arched an eyebrow, her impatience evident.

"I got fired." Your voice came out softer than you intended.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing. She just gestured with a slight tilt of her head for you to continue.

You took a deep breath, trying not to break down.

"I just… I don’t know what happened. I just dropped the tray. Like—" You stopped, shaking your head, pushing the thought away. "It doesn’t matter. He fired me on the spot."

Rio let out a small chuckle, followed by a scoff.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, her woody perfume wrapping around you like a trap.

"And you think the universe conspires against you, darling? That hidden forces knocked over your tray?" she said, clearly mocking your attempt to justify yourself.

You clenched your fingers against the fabric of your skirt, averting your gaze from hers. "I don’t know what happened," you repeated, more to yourself than to Rio.

And you sank further into the cushioned seat, feeling your cheeks burn with pure embarrassment. You hadn’t thought that... But things had happened in such a... strange way. So out of your control.

She let out a slow sigh, as if enjoying your confusion. The corner of her mouth curled into a lopsided smile, but her eyes were sharp, analyzing every little reaction of yours.

"So you need a job."

You nodded, feeling your face burn. "Actually… I need two."

"Two?" She tilted her head slightly. "And why do you think I would give you a job, let alone two, to a clumsy little girl?"

Her smile widened. Her eyes gleamed with an interest that made you shrink into the seat.

Your stomach twisted at the way she said that. As if she had already decided you were nothing more than a child stumbling through the world.

Rio leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand, studying you like a predator sizing up its prey.

You clenched your fists in your lap, trying to steady yourself.

"Because I’m dedicated." You spoke, your voice firmer now. "I learn fast. I’m not stupid."

"Oh. Of course you’re not," if Rio had seemed annoyed before, now she looked at you with her usual bright, playful eyes. "You’re a smart girl, aren’t you?" She took a sip of her coffee, but the shadow of her smile was still there.

Your jaw tightened at the thought of her mocking you, treating you as inferior—as a child.

"Don’t pout." She warned, startling you. You really had no control over your expressions. "Come on, say it to me."

Heat crept up your neck, burning your skin. You felt your fingers tighten against the fabric of your skirt again, a reflex of the tension taking over your body.

It was a game.

Everything was always a game with her.

But then, why did you feel so suffocated? So trapped in this web that Rio seemed to weave around you with such patience?

"I—" Your voice failed, and Rio raised an eyebrow, waiting. You hated how much she seemed to enjoy your discomfort.

Your pride screamed at you not to say it. To stand your ground. But at the same time, there was something in the way she looked at you… in the weight of that moment… that made you feel that if you didn’t give in, she would simply lose interest.

And the worst part… you didn’t want her to lose interest.

You needed her.

"I am," you finally murmured, almost in a whisper.

"Louder," Rio said, stirring the spoon in her cup absentmindedly. Her tone was lazy, but her eyes… her eyes were sharp.

Your cheeks burned. You hated yourself for giving in. "I’m a smart girl."

Rio’s smile spread fully now, satisfied.

"Good girl," she praised, and your stomach twisted again, an uncomfortable mix of shame and… something else. Something you didn’t want to admit even to yourself. "That was very convincing." She ran her fingers along the rim of her cup before finally asking, "And why two jobs?"

You hesitated. Part of you wanted to lie. Say anything but the truth. But you knew Rio would notice.

"I have a brother." Your voice came out softer. "He needs me."

Then, as if the moment had never happened, she relaxed in her seat and crossed her legs. "Interesting."

Rio’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

For an instant, just one, her expression seemed to soften. But it was so quick you almost thought you imagined it.

She picked up her cup and took a sip, keeping her gaze locked on yours the entire time. Then, finally, she raised an eyebrow, a small amused smile playing on her lips.

The silence that settled between you seemed to compress the air around you. You felt the tension vibrating in every cell of your body, as if you were about to make a mistake that could cost you dearly.

Rio twirled the cup between her fingers, studying you with an expression that revealed absolutely nothing. Then, with that exact calmness that made you want to shrink, she tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Your brother."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"I want to meet him." She said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "If I’m going to give you a job, it’s only fair that I know who I’m investing in."

Your hands clenched over the fabric of your pants.

"S-seriously?" You asked, surprised.

Then your mind went to Josh. His face bruised in shades of purple, green, and yellow. You would have thought this would take a bit longer, enough time for Josh to recover his health and his pride.

The woman seemed to ignore your stupid question.

"Tomorrow. At the gallery. Six in the morning." Her authoritative voice fired off commands, making your head spin.

"Is this… is this really necessary?" Your voice came out more hesitant than it should have.

Rio raised an eyebrow, and you immediately knew the question was a mistake.

"I never do anything without a reason, little gem." The way she dragged out the words sounded like a veiled warning. "If you want my help, you shouldn’t question it."

Your stomach twisted. You wanted to refuse. Say that this was unnecessary, that your brother didn’t need to be involved in this. But you needed the job. Needed it desperately.

"Now, as for you…" She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "You still need to prove to me that your hands can stay out of trouble."

Your chest tightened.

"I can do anything." You tried to sound firm. "I learn fast."

Rio let out a low chuckle. The sound made your skin prickle.

"Learning fast doesn’t mean actually being useful," she leaned forward, her presence filling the space between you. The woody perfume mixed with the faint aroma of coffee felt more intense, as if the air around had thickened. "And I don’t have time to train you."

"Then test me." The words slipped out before you could think. You hated the pleading tone in your voice, but it was too late.

Rio stopped. Her eyes widened for a brief second before her pupils dilated, swallowing almost all the golden honey. Her mouth slightly open, as if she was about to speak, but no sound came. Just a subtle movement of her throat as she swallowed dryly. The tip of her tongue moistening her lips, the previously relaxed hand now resting on the table with fingers tensed.

"Test you?" Her voice came out rougher than before, scraping through the silence between you. Her jaw tightened, as if she was holding something back. You nodded, feeling your own chest rise and fall faster than you would have liked.

You nodded, swallowing hard.

She stayed silent for a moment, just watching you. Then, she smiled again.

"Great." She replied, her voice slightly husky.

Your stomach twisted.

She stood up, without saying goodbye, without looking back. She just left, leaving behind the unsettling feeling that, somehow, you had already lost this game before it even began.

As you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day, you glanced at the clock, and your heart skipped a beat.

Damn. It was already time for your internship.

You stood up hurriedly, grabbing your bag. You couldn’t be late—not if you truly wanted to impress Agatha. Your legs barely kept up with the urgency of your pace as you headed for the exit. But just as you were about to step through the door, a hesitant voice called out to you.

“Hey... wait a second.”

You turned around and found the waitress watching you with an uncertain look. In her hands, she held a paper bag carefully.

“What’s this?” you asked, frowning.

The girl swallowed hard before replying. “Someone asked me to give this to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took the bag, feeling the light weight of its contents and the lingering warmth of something freshly baked. With trembling fingers, you peeled the paper back slightly and found a meticulous selection of snacks—iced coffee, a dense brownie, a cinnamon roll, and a cheese croissant.

But it was the note that made your chest tighten.

You felt your throat go dry.

“A hard day, isn’t it?

Eat, little one.”

It was almost impossible to reconcile the pieces of who Rio Vidal was. The woman who made you feel small, fragile, always pressing you against the wall… and the same woman who made sure you ate after an exhausting day.

Was it a game? You didn’t understand. She pulled you in and pushed you away, confused you and ensnared you until there was no clear line between where your resistance began and where your surrender ended.

Your stomach twisted at the duality of the gesture. How a simple note and a few carefully chosen snacks had the power to warm your chest with something dangerous.

You swallowed hard and clutched the bag against your chest before stepping out the door, feeling, once again, trapped in the web Rio was carefully weaving around you.

By the time you arrived at your internship at the studio, exhaustion seemed to weigh down every cell in your body. Silent tears slipped down your face as you desperately tried to maintain a neutral facade. The weight of the day was truly crashing down on your shoulders, and you didn’t want to hold it in anymore.

Your superiors’ words passed over you like a distant breeze—you heard them, but you didn’t absorb them. You only responded when necessary, moving like a broken puppet, soulless.

Following orders, delivering documents seemed like a mundane task, but when the door opened for you, the air shifted. It was heavy, almost electric, and your eyes were immediately drawn to the unmistakable gleam of Agatha’s blue eyes. They stared at you, glowing in the dim light like two enchanted sapphires.

Agatha’s trailer was a world of its own. The soft, diffused light came from Himalayan salt lamps, creating a warm and inviting aura that contrasted with the coldness of the studio outside. The scent of sandalwood incense floated in the air, mingling with her woody perfume, which seemed to seep into every fiber of your being. Your legs wobbled as you stepped inside, as if the very space was conspiring to make you more vulnerable.

Agatha was seated on a burgundy velvet chaise lounge, her blue eyes gleaming like beacons in the dark. She watched you enter, her lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Honey,” she said, her voice so soft it felt like a physical touch. “You look… exhausted.”

You tried to maintain composure, but your hands trembled as you held the documents.

“Here are the papers you requested,” you murmured, extending them to her with a voice that barely concealed your fragility.

Agatha didn’t take the documents immediately. Instead, her gaze traveled over your face, as if reading every line of exhaustion, every shadow of despair.

“Sit,” she ordered, with a gentleness that left no room for refusal. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

You hesitated, but your feet seemed to move on their own, carrying you to the chaise lounge. As you sat, the weight of the day finally crashed down on you, and you felt the burn of tears behind your eyelids.

“Sorry,” you whispered, staring down at your hands in your lap. “It’s just… it’s been a rough day.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Agatha’s voice was a low, soothing whisper, like the sound of a gently flowing river. It was warm, almost intoxicating, and you felt your shoulders relax against your will. It was dangerous, but it felt so good you couldn’t resist.

She rose with the elegance of a predator who knew exactly how to hypnotize its prey. Slowly, she approached you, her movements carrying a deliberate grace.

“Come here,” she said, gesturing to the chaise. When you hesitated, she kept moving closer until her hands found the top of your head. The touch was gentle, yet carried a weight that made your mind go blank for a moment.

“What’s been happening, huh?” Her voice was strangely maternal, filled with a sweetness that seemed impossible for someone so calculated.

Your already weakened defenses crumbled. The tears began to fall uncontrollably, and you felt your face heat up.

“I… everything is going wrong,” you began, your voice breaking with sobs. “My parents… they hate me. The difference is that my mother was brave enough to abandon me for good. My boss… he… he humiliated me and then fired me.” Your voice wavered, choking up. “I have no friends, no one. I’m so tired of this pressure. Working, studying, being good… it’s so—so impossible.”

Agatha gently pulled you into an embrace. You didn’t resist, letting your limp body collapse into her arms. Your face was buried against her clothed chest, and her floral perfume seemed to embrace you along with her. The warmth of her body was so comforting that, for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared.

“Poor baby…” Her voice was a soothing whisper, but it held something deeper. “No mother to comfort you.”

The way she spoke made you feel small, protected, like you had finally found a safe place. But there was something hypnotic in her voice, something that made your mind waver and your body relax more than it should.

You melted into that touch, into that warmth, unable to notice the satisfaction hiding behind Agatha’s mask of compassion. She watched you with keen eyes, analyzing every detail of your vulnerability. The smile that formed on her lips was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

The kiss on the top of your head was the last thing you felt before everything faded into a warm, comfortable haze. The exhaustion that seemed rooted in every cell of your body finally relented, and the world around you ceased to exist.

When you opened your eyes, it was like being transported into a movie scene. The room you were in was massive, with large windows that allowed sunlight to stream in, reflecting off the dark wooden furniture and the golden details that adorned the space. The curtains, made of a fabric that looked more expensive than your entire bank account, were pulled to the side, revealing a perfectly lit garden.

The soft scent of lavender lingered in the air, probably coming from the sheets of the bed you had slept in. A crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, shining as if each piece were cleaned individually every day. For a moment, you just sat there, trying to understand where you were.

“Good evening, sweetie.”

Agatha’s voice echoed behind you, calm yet full of presence. When you turned around, there she was, impeccable as always, a slight smile on her lips. There was something comforting in her tone, but also something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Where… where are we?” Your voice sounded hesitant, with a touch of confusion still evident.

“At my house. Pacific Palisades, to be exact,” Agatha answered casually, gesturing toward the window with an elegant motion. “Don’t worry, it’s a very peaceful neighborhood.”

Pacific Palisades. You knew it was one of the most exclusive areas in California. Knowing that only made the situation feel even more surreal. The idea of being there, surrounded by so much luxury, was almost suffocating.

“But… what happened? Why can’t I remember anything?”

Agatha walked toward you, the sound of her heels barely audible against the wooden floor. She stopped a few steps away, hands neatly folded in front of her. “You were unwell. Very unwell,” she explained, her tone firm yet carrying an unexpected gentleness. “You had no one to take care of you, so Rio and I decided to help. It was necessary.”

You frowned. Her words were direct, yet they left something unspoken, a gap you couldn’t quite fill. “But what about Lucky? And my plants? My brother…”

Agatha tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes assessing every nuance of your reaction. “Rio is taking care of everything. She went to fetch your belongings. As for your brother… He’s an adult. I’m sure he can handle himself.”

“But—”

“Darling,” she interrupted, her voice low, almost soothing. “You need to rest. You were exhausted, and frankly, it was beginning to take its toll.”

Despite her calm tone, something in the way she spoke made you feel like you were being controlled without even realizing it. You stood up, restless, walking to the window. Outside, the perfectly manicured garden seemed like an extension of the suffocating perfection of the house.

“That still doesn’t explain…” you began, turning to face her.

“There’s no need to explain everything right now,” Agatha replied, smiling again. She gestured casually toward the door. “Why don’t we leave these worries for later? Dinner is ready.”

Reluctantly, you followed her out of the room. The staircase you descended together felt endless, each step echoing in the impeccably silent house. When you reached the dining room, the setting was just as luxurious as the bedroom. A small army of staff moved around, carrying trays and adjusting the table’s details as if preparing for a formal event.

“Why are there so many people here?” you asked, frowning as you watched the staff work with near-military precision.

Agatha smiled, and this time, there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “Just the staff, honey. Nothing unusual.”

With a simple gesture, she dismissed them all, and they left in silence, without question. The room suddenly felt empty, and somehow, even more oppressive.

“Doesn’t that seem… I don’t know… unprofessional?” you asked nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Agatha let out a soft chuckle, the sound echoing through the space. “Perhaps it is. But you’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

You tried to think of something to say, but the words caught in your throat. There was something in her gaze, something in the way she moved the pieces around her, that was both reassuring and unsettling.

“Now, sit down,” she instructed, pulling a chair for you with an almost ceremonial gesture. “You need to eat.”

You hesitantly sat, feeling like a misplaced piece on a board you didn’t yet understand. As Agatha moved with her usual grace around the room, the persistent feeling that something was off continued to gnaw at you.

Before you could respond, the door opened again, and Rio entered, carrying a large box filled with your plants and a cage with Lucky inside, already meowing in protest. She smirked slightly, as if she had just solved the world’s biggest problem.

“Brought everything,” Rio announced, placing the cage on the floor and setting the plants carefully on a nearby table. Lucky immediately jumped out, inspecting the new environment as if he owned the place.

“See?” Agatha said, her tone almost maternal. “Everything’s taken care of. You don’t have to worry about anything now.”

Rio smiled at the sight of the two of you and went straight to Agatha, leaning in to kiss her deeply, unreservedly. The kiss was intimate and possessive, the kind of display that made their bond unmistakable. You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks, quickly looking away as if you were intruding on a private moment.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Rio pulled away, smirking as she noticed your reaction. Before stepping back completely, she pinched your cheek between her fingers. “Hello, little girl,” she murmured, amusement flickering in her eyes as she watched your flustered expression.

Rio stepped away, sitting next to Agatha. The filet au poivre on your plate was tender, the sauce rich and peppery. But you noticed that both women were drinking wine, while you had a glass of orange juice.

That made you furrow your brows. Your age allowed you to drink legally—so why weren’t you having wine too? Your thoughts were interrupted by a sound from Rio.

“So, how are classes going?” she asked after taking a sip of the crimson liquid. Rio seemed genuinely interested.

You swallowed your food slowly, feeling the weight of their gazes as you processed her question. Something about her tone, combined with the way you were being treated, sent a chill down your spine.

“Classes… are fine,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but there was hesitation in your voice. The orange juice in your hand felt like an almost childish contrast to the elegant wine they were drinking.

Agatha arched an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on her lips as she rested her chin on her hand. “Just ‘fine’? That doesn’t sound very convincing, little gem. Don’t tell me you’re letting your grades slip.”

You looked at her, slightly confused by the almost scolding tone. “No… My grades are good. It’s just that… things have been a bit intense lately.”

Rio let out a low chuckle, leaning forward as she twirled her wine glass between her fingers. “Well, that’s part of adult life, little girl. But you seem to be handling it well. Right, Agatha?”

“Hmm,” Agatha hummed, her eyes fixed on you in a way that made your stomach twist. “She has potential, but perhaps she needs a bit more… guidance.” The woman murmured, sipping more of the intoxicating liquid as she turned her body to face you. “Have you considered that maybe you’re taking on more than you can handle alone?”

“I can handle my own life.” You retorted, feeling a slight discomfort in the way her words echoed in the room. The sensation of being diminished, as if you were inexperienced or incapable, was starting to irritate you.

"Of course you can, darling," Agatha replied softly, but there was something in her tone that made it sound like she was merely humoring you, as one would with a stubborn child. "But that doesn't mean you couldn't benefit from a little help every now and then."

Rio chuckled, raising her glass toward Agatha as if toasting silently. "She’s got a point, you know. Everyone needs someone to hold their hand sometimes. And frankly, you seem to need it more than you realize."

"I'm not a child." You protested, feeling your cheeks burn.

Agatha tilted her head, an indulgent smile on her lips, a softness that seemed to contrast with the weight of her presence. She reached out and brushed away an invisible crumb from your cheek. "Oh, aren’t you?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the condescending and challenging tone of Agatha bubbling in your stomach. Rio interrupted your intense stare-down. "Agatha, darling…" she murmured calmly.

Rio had been silently observing, but there was something in her gaze that unsettled you, as if she was waiting for a reaction from you, something only she seemed to understand.

"So," Rio said after a few minutes of silence, resting her chin on her hand as she watched you with curiosity. "What's the story behind all this? You, alone, taking care of a cat and an army of plants… sounds like the life of a busy single mother for someone so young."

The tension in the air began to dissipate slightly with Rio's more relaxed tone—she seemed to know exactly when to step in. Her question had a touch of genuine curiosity, different from Agatha’s provocative tone.

You let out a sigh, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks and the feeling of being studied like a specimen. "Yeah, maybe I am a single mother… But I like my plants. And Lucky… well, he’s a little grumpy, but it’s nice to have someone waiting for me at home."

Rio tilted her head, her lopsided smile softening the atmosphere even more. "Grumpy… Sounds like he matches someone here, doesn’t he?" she teased, winking as she took another sip of wine, glancing at Agatha.

The remark pulled an involuntary smile from you, though you still felt uneasy about what had happened before. "He’s very selective with people. He doesn’t trust just anyone."

"Cats… always with high standards," Rio replied, laughing quietly.

Agatha looked at Rio, and something unspoken passed between them, as if they had an entire conversation just through their eyes. Then, Agatha leaned back in her chair, her smile now less sharp. "I suppose he’s happy with the choices he makes."

You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or another provocation, but before you could respond, Rio changed the subject again.

"Well, you seem to manage just fine on your own," Rio continued, her tone now almost warm. "But it must be nice to have a little help every now and then. Lucky is good company, but he’s not going to cook dinner for you, is he, darling?"

You let out a short laugh, relaxing a little more. "Definitely not. In fact, he’s a professional mug-knocker."

Rio burst into laughter, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "I like him more by the second. Maybe we should keep him around for a while. I bet he’d love to explore the chaos." She murmured with intention, though you seemed not to notice.

"Chaos?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"With Agatha around?" Rio replied, winking at you conspiratorially. "There’s always a bit of chaos. The controlled kind, of course, but chaos nonetheless."

Agatha feigned offense, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. "Chaos? I prefer order," she corrected, though her voice held a trace of amusement.

"Order on your own terms, isn’t that right, my lady?" Rio teased, raising her glass as if toasting again.

You chuckled, feeling the atmosphere finally lighten. Lucky, now settled near the plants, let out a low meow, as if confirming his presence in the space.

Rio leaned in, resting her chin on her hand again, this time looking at you with something more genuine in her eyes. "I think Lucky already feels at home."

You hesitated for a moment, but something in her tone made you relax a little more. "I think… yeah."

Agatha smiled slightly but remained silent, watching as Rio continued to smooth out the edges of that strange evening. The balance of power still lingered in the air, but for now, it felt like you could breathe again.

Agatha’s chin lifted slightly, and a satisfied smile curled on her lips as she gestured for you to follow her. "Come, darling. We have something to show you."

They led you to a nearby room, which looked like a dream materialized. It was spacious, with a large window that let in the perfect amount of sunlight. Your plants were already carefully arranged on shelves, and Lucky had seemingly already claimed the space as his own.

"It’s the guest room," Agatha said, a glint in her eyes. "I thought it would be perfect for you."

You stood still for a moment, taking in the room and feeling a whirlwind of emotions. The fear and distrust were still there, but the sight of the space—so inviting and warm—along with the relief of seeing Lucky safe, started to weaken them.

Rio and Agatha exchanged a discreet glance, their smiles carrying a silent triumph. You didn’t realize how carefully you were being drawn in, but they knew exactly what they were doing.

You remained there for a moment, watching the room as Lucky curled up on the bed as if he had found paradise. But there was something more in the air. Something that made your skin tingle slightly, like an invisible energy pulsing around you. It was strange, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

"Why are you doing this for me?" you finally broke the silence, your voice hesitant, filled with genuine confusion. "I mean… I barely know you."

Agatha crossed her arms, her gaze firm and assessing as she answered with almost disarming simplicity, "Because you needed it."

Rio, on the other hand, let out a quiet laugh, stepping closer to sit at the edge of the bed. "Do you really need more explanation than that, sweetheart? You were alone, exhausted, crying… We couldn’t just leave you like that."

You swallowed hard, still uncertain. "But… this all seems too much. I don’t even know how I’m going to thank—"

Agatha cut you off, her voice sharp yet controlled. "In time, you will know how to repay it."

There was something in her tone that made it sound more like an order than a suggestion. You averted your gaze, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. "You both came into my life so suddenly… It’s strange. Why me?"

Rio stood up, walking towards you with a smile that was both warm and disarming. "Because, darling, some people get lucky. And apparently, today was your day." She tilted her head, as if studying your reaction.

"I do just fine on my own," you retorted stubbornly, your voice carrying a resistance that made the tension in the air spike again.

Agatha closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if searching for patience. When she opened them, there was a determined glint in them. "You think you do. But you’re far too young to understand just how much you need someone to guide you."

"I don’t need anyone to guide me!" you snapped, your voice louder than you intended. Lucky, lying among the sheets, lifted his head at the sound, watching intently.

Rio chuckled softly, trying to ease the weight of the exchange. She leaned forward, threatening to come closer. "You’ve got fire, little girl, that’s clear. But you know…" She paused, glancing briefly at Agatha before looking back at you. "There’s nothing wrong with accepting a little care. You don’t always have to fight, you understand?"

Your throat went dry, but you held your ground. "I don’t need that," you muttered, but the words sounded weak even to yourself.

Agatha narrowed her eyes, her expression hardening with a patience that seemed about to snap. "Oh, of course," she said in a sweet, almost sickening tone as she stood from her chair, walking slowly around you. "You don’t need it. After all, you’re doing so well on your own, aren’t you? No job, a failure of a brother, and a father draining you dry. You look absolutely fantastic!" she concluded sarcastically.

You straightened in your chair, feeling each of her words like a small blow. "I… I do my best," you shot back, trying not to sound defensive, but her sharp tone made your confidence waver.

"Your best…" Agatha repeated, almost mocking, as she turned to face you again. Her eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "And how’s that working out for you? Oh, wait…" She gestured dramatically with her hand, a sarcastic smile on her lips. "You were alone, exhausted, crying like a lost child—but sure, you don’t need anyone. You don’t need us."

"Agatha," Rio intervened softly, her voice calm but with a hint of warning. She reached out, touching her wife’s arm, but Agatha didn’t back down.

"No, Rio," she replied, her voice still sugary but laced with frustration. "If she insists she can handle everything alone, who are we to say otherwise? Maybe she enjoys drowning by herself."

You felt your face burn, Agatha’s words hitting deeper than you wanted to admit. They didn’t understand. You had acted like an adult your entire childhood and teenage years—and now, two women you barely knew expected you to relinquish control over your life.

"I never asked for anything from you," you said, your voice coming out firmer than you expected.

"You didn’t ask," Agatha countered, leaning slightly forward. "But you accepted. And that’s the problem, darling. You don’t know what’s best for you, yet you insist on acting as if you do."

A heavy silence hung in the air as her words lingered, and for a moment, you felt small under her gaze.

Rio let out a quiet sigh, but you noticed the brief glance she gave Agatha—something like a silent warning. She leaned toward you, a soft smile appearing on her lips. "Listen," she began, her voice a balm after Agatha’s cutting tone. "It’s not about being right or wrong. We just… want to help you, you understand? This isn’t a battle. It’s just… care. And maybe you need it more than you’re willing to admit."

You hesitated, Rio’s words almost reaching a part of you that still resisted. But the weight of Agatha’s gaze remained—fierce and piercing.

"I don’t…" you started, but your voice faltered.

"Don’t want help?" Agatha finished for you, crossing her arms. "Or don’t want to admit that you need it?"

Her tone was relentless, and for the first time, you felt your walls begin to crack. It wasn’t just exhaustion; it was something deeper, a part of you that wanted to allow trust, even against your will.

The energy in the room seemed to thicken, and that tingling sensation returned to your skin. It was as if both women exuded a magnetic presence you couldn’t understand—but it made you curious.

"You two are so… different," you murmured, observing them. "Like, the way you talk, act… It doesn’t seem like you—"

"Match?" Rio finished, laughing softly. "Yeah, a lot of people think that. But we work, you know? Like two pieces of a puzzle."

Agatha didn’t laugh, but a small smile tugged at her lips, as if she silently agreed. "Different, yes. But complementary. That’s what matters."

You hesitated, trying to absorb it all. "And now? You want me to stay here?"

Rio slipped her hands into her pockets and leaned slightly toward you, her eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite place. "We want you to rest, to breathe. One step at a time, sweetheart."

Agatha nodded, her posture relaxing. "We’re here to make sure you have what you need. No rush, no pressure."

There was something comforting, almost hypnotic, in their words. But there was also an unease in the back of your mind. You didn’t understand why, but even with all the apparent kindness, the energy radiating from them made you feel small, vulnerable.

"Alright," you replied softly, trying to ignore the invisible weight in the air.

Rio smiled again, a subtle glint of triumph in her eyes. Beside her, Agatha kept her gaze on you, as if measuring every word, every reaction.

The silence that followed was broken by Agatha’s low, satisfied chuckle. When you looked up, you saw the smile that had formed on her face—bright and triumphant, yet still carrying something darker.

"That’s a good girl," she murmured, her voice low and filled with an almost dangerous satisfaction.

The words hit you like a wave of warmth, making your chest tighten in a confusing way.

Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.

Something about the way she said it made you feel… strangely good.

Rio’s soft smile lingered as she leaned back in her chair. "See? It’s not so bad." She said gently, touching your shoulder with an almost protective lightness. "Tomorrow is a new day. You’ll see, things will get better."

They stepped away, leaving you alone in the room. As you sat on the bed, watching Lucky sleep peacefully, you tried to convince yourself that this was just kindness. Just good people appearing at the right moment.

[...]

The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room, casting shadows on the walls decorated in deep shades of blue and gray. The space was luxurious, but there was something intimidating about the way every detail seemed meticulously calculated.

Agatha sat on the right edge of the bed, her posture erect as if authority itself rested in the way she carried herself. She was underlining notes on the script for the new feature film, the precise movements of her pen accompanied by the contemplative glint in her eyes. There was something almost ritualistic about the way she worked, as if each correction was a crucial piece in a puzzle.

Rio, on the other hand, seemed to belong to another world. Leaning casually against the edge of the bed, her legs crossed in an effortless manner, she slid her fingers across the iPad screen with a serenity that contrasted with Agatha’s intensity. But beneath her apparent calmness, there was an undeniable firmness, a silent vigilance.

“She accepted,” Agatha remarked, her voice low and measured, but not devoid of pride. “One way or another, she accepted.”

Rio smiled, one of those smiles that could be either affectionate or a warning. “Oh, my love, she’s tough. She grew up carrying the weight of the world, but deep down...” She lifted her gaze from the iPad. “She’s still just a girl.”

Agatha tilted her head slightly, humming in agreement. “And the brother?” Her voice remained unhurried, but her eyes betrayed genuine interest in the answer. “Did you make sure he won’t be a problem?”

Rio closed the iPad with a sharp click, placing it on the mattress. “He’s not a threat. Just a frustrated man trying to rebuild himself.” There was a calculated lightness in her tone, something reassuring yet dangerously final. “The interview is tomorrow. Everything is under control.”

Agatha glanced up from the script just enough to look at her over her glasses, measuring her words. “Be careful.” Her voice was low, deliberate. “They can’t think she’s getting any kind of special treatment.”

Rio let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that, director?” Her eyebrow arched in provocation. “Little Gem is sleeping in the room next door.”

Agatha sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “That doesn’t mean we should make things easy for those vultures.” Her voice tensed at the thought of greedy journalists. “She needs to learn to fight for herself. If we treat her like a princess, she’ll never grow.”

Rio leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that made Agatha hesitate for a moment. “She already fights, Agatha. Every day. You saw the state she was in today. She’s exhausted, hurt, and yet she’s still here. Isn’t that strength?”

Agatha held Rio’s gaze, but her expression softened slightly. “She is strong, yes. But strength without direction is just wasted potential. We need to guide her, not spoil her.”

Rio smiled, but this time there was genuine sweetness in her eyes. “And what if I want to spoil her a little? Doesn’t she deserve some kindness?”

Agatha frowned but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she set the script aside and crossed her arms, studying Rio with a look that mixed disapproval and affection. “You’ve always been like this. Intense. Impulsive when it comes to this.”

Rio stood up, walking toward the window. The moonlight illuminated her face, highlighting her striking features and the determination in her gaze. “I’m just saying she needs someone to see her for who she is, not as a project.”

Agatha remained silent for a moment, watching Rio with an expression that was difficult to decipher. “And you think you can be that person?”

Rio turned to face her, lips curving into a smile that was both challenging and tender. “Her favorite person? I already am. And you know it.” She teased.

Agatha sighed again, rolling her eyes, but this time there was amusement in her voice. “Just don’t ruin her, Rio. She’s important to me too.”

Rio walked back to the bed, sitting beside Agatha. Her fingers found Agatha’s, intertwining with the kind of ease that only years of intimacy could create. “I won’t ruin her. I’ll take care of her. In my own way, of course.”

Agatha looked down at their intertwined hands, and for a brief moment, her expression softened. “Your way has always been... intense.”

Rio chuckled, a low, melodic sound. “And you love that.”

Agatha didn’t respond, but the gentle squeeze of her hand was answer enough. She knew Rio was right, but she also knew the path they were on was dangerous.

Rio turned to face her again, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “And you? What did you do?” There was undeniable amusement in Rio’s voice as she looked at Agatha. Her chocolate eyes sparkled, her prominent cheeks alive with emotion. “It happened faster than I expected.”

Vida.

Agatha snapped out of her trance, averting her gaze from her wife’s. “I did what was necessary.” She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the warm and comfortable feeling in her chest.

Agatha’s eyes gleamed with approval. “Well... Either way, she’s going to need it. Our little one still doesn’t understand that she can’t overburden herself.”

Rio chuckled softly, a feeling swirling in her chest. She turned her body to face Agatha directly, locking eyes with her wife’s piercing blue gaze. “She’ll learn. And when she does, she’ll never want to leave.”

Agatha shifted on her side of the bed, a kind of insecurity creeping into her mind.

“Do you think she’s ready for what’s coming next?” Agatha finally asked, her voice unsteady.

“I don’t think so,” Rio admitted, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “But who ever is? What matters is that we found her.”

Agatha smiled slightly, but it was impossible to tell if it was out of tenderness or something darker.

“She’ll understand, my love,” Rio assured her, her voice now softer. “And when she does, she’ll know she has never been so well taken care of.”

Agatha didn’t reply, but the glint in her eyes indicated she was already several steps ahead, calculating, planning.

After all, this wasn’t just about care—it was about control. And that, Agatha knew, was something she did better than anyone.

~*~

I am nothing without my plants and cats, I'm just a lesbian :)

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01

@aboutcustardcreams @upsidedowndanvers @starbucks-06

@absolute-memegarbage @trinity2k

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

The Beggar Student by Dazai Osamu

"I could feel the hands of fate upon me. I'd been caught. In his heart of hearts, the student is a thirty-two-year-old drunken poet."

"Not even the wisest reader knows the anguish of the writer who has sent a truly awful piece of writing to a magazine in order to survive. Here goes nothing, I told myself, pushing that heavy envelope into the mailbox. It hit the bottom with a thunk. And that was that. Another crummy story. On the surface, it pretends to be a mirror to my soul, although I know as well as anyone the slimy worms of compromise are wriggling in the muck at the bottom. It's a work in which the work is far from done. ... It makes me so ashamed I want to scream and run around in circles. I promise you, it's terrible. A lousy piece of trash. I have no right to call myself a writer. Such is my ignorance. No insights to impart. No illuminating views."

"I wish I could just cut my belly open and let all of the words come spilling out. No matter if it's gibberish, as long as it's my flesh and blood doing the talking."

"My work will disgrace bookstore windows all across the land. Critics will sneer; readers will give up. That hack writer has outdone himself again, they'll say, setting a low bar for writers everywhere. Tough to beat."

"I'll have you know, I may look like an ass, but I'm not a total moron, and when I say I lack conviction, I only mean it relative to my own high standards."

"You ought to try this out sometime, dear reader. Sit yourself down on the sofa of a coffee shop or bar, facing the fireplace beside the madam of the house, so that both of you are staring at the flames, and talk as if you're speaking to the fire - I promise, up against even the dullest mind, you'll be able to sustain a lively conversation for hour after hour. But take heed, reader: you must not look into each other's eyes, not even once."

"I couldn't shut up if I tried. The only way I can stand being alive is if I'm playing the buffoon."

"One might call reason the glue that holds society together. In that sense, the order we enjoy is artificial, but we need this artifice if we want to go on living."

"Even if I feel bad for a person, I'm certain of the cold hard fact that I can't do anything for them, which leaves me feeling even worse."

"Growing up, I found the name incredibly embarrassing, so despite being a string bean, I've been publishing as Osamu Dazai, a name that makes me sound like a street fighter who might break your neck."

"...This guy's a good person. Not egotistical like you." "Hold on," I said, bristling at being labeled a good person. "I'm plenty egotistical..."

"When something pushes me over the brink of fear, I have a nasty tendency to begin laughing like an idiot. A disturbing, wild laugh. I lose control, can't hold it in. An expression not of brazenness, but extreme cowardice that takes me to the limits of delirium."

"Truth is that grownups are the same as kids, except a little worse for wear. Kids ask a lot from grownups, but grownups ask at least as much from kids. It's a real mess. But it's the truth. We count on you to hold it all together. ...To put it gently, we're always one step away from being overwhelmed. To put it harshly, we're all babies who cant' take a word of criticism."

"Next time life gets you down, curl up in a blanket in your rented room and open a good book."

[mirisss]

Atz reaction to their s/o being financially broken

Ateez x gn!college/university student! reader 

Thank you for the request! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write this but I hope you enjoy this! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to a poly relationship or not so I wrote it as if the relationships are separate, so each ATZ member has their own s/o. 

Wordcount ≈ 1.2k

Warnings: Anxiety, overworking, exhaustion, financial problems, (Not that angsty though,)

Reactions under the cut

Seonghwa, Yeosang, Mingi, Yunho, Jongho

He had noticed that you didn’t seem to have a lot of time to hang out with him recently as you constantly had to study or work. At first, he didn’t think much of it, thinking it was just because of exam season that you were so stressed. But once this kept happening for over a month, he could barely reach you, you never answered his calls, or barely any of his texts, only answering “Sorry, busy studying, talk to you later”. He understood that something must be going on, his first thought would be if he had done anything wrong so one night, he went over to your apartment, knocked on the door but no one opened it, he assumed that you were at the restaurant/bar where you work so he went over there. Once at the door to the restaurant, he saw you running around inside, immediately noticing that you looked sick and feverish, you didn’t even notice him as he stood in front of you. One of your colleagues noticed him, quickly ushering him over. 

“You should really convince them to go home, they’ve been working double shifts for two weeks, and even trying to pick up more shifts every now and then,” He was shocked to find out just how much you had been working. He walked over to you, gently putting a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, love, can we talk?” You were surprised to see him but said yes and went to the back of the building, where he technically wasn’t allowed to be as a non-employee but you were with him so it was fine. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you finally sat down for the first time in probably 12 or 15 hours. “That´s what I want to ask you, your colleague just told me you’ve been working double shifts for 2 weeks straight, you look sick, you definitely have a fever, you’ve been distant for over a month, I just want to understand what’s going on,” He saw tears beginning to form in your eyes. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” “It’s obviously something, please, (Y/n), tell me what’s going on, I’m your boyfriend, you should be able to rely on me,” You sighed and then proceeded to tell him everything. 

“My landlord raised my rent a lot about a month ago and with my old schedule, I couldn’t afford the rent or the cost of uni and everything so I had to start working more to earn enough not to be evicted, but having to work for 20 hours each day doesn’t leave a lot of time to study or sleep so I’m falling behind on classes and I don’t know what to do because no matter what I think of, there’s no solution that actually works,” He just looked at you in shock. “Why haven’t you told me about this? I could help you, I have asked before to move in together, that would help a lot with the cost of living for you,” “I can’t just rely on you for this, it’s my problem,” “Hey, we’re in this together, besides, I earn enough to support us both for a while so that you can focus on studying. I love you, (Y/n), it pains me to see you so overworked, I want to help, so please rely on me,” You couldn’t say no anymore, fatigue, fever, and finally feeling like you could have some rest catching up with you so you just nodded, whispering, ‘yes please’, before falling asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Hongjoong, Wooyoung, San

They would never let it come to the point of you being financially broken or exhausted mentally, nope, these two are just very attentive or their partner and would notice the second something seemed to be off with you. The first clue was when you canceled last minute on a date he had planned for over a week, to celebrate the anniversary of your first kiss together, he would take you to a fancy restaurant, something you usually enjoyed but this day you canceled on him the morning of the date just saying “I’m not feeling like doing something fancy”. He was shocked but nonetheless, he canceled the booking at the restaurant and asked if you should just order takeout and a movie night at his place, but you shot that down too with the excuse of exams coming up. 

The second, and final clue to something being wrong, was when he walked by the office where you work part-time, in the middle of the day, when you definitely had classes, but he found you at the office, looking more stressed than ever before. 

“Hey, love, what are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” “Oh Joong/Woo/Sannie, um, no, I, um, don’t” It was obvious that you were lying to him, and he wondered why, as it never happened before. “I know you’re lying, (Y/n), what’s actually going on?” You just sighed, looking down at the ground. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” “I won’t judge you, honey,” “I’m going to be evicted from my apartment, I took a pay cut about a week ago and with it, I can’t afford to pay rent, and my landlord isn’t one to be understanding of me being a student so they’ll kick you out the second even a penny is missing from the rent. So I’ve been taking on more shifts here, even trying to find another part-time job at a café or something, but with that, I can’t go to classes, so I’m falling behind, and I just want to die, because I’m failing everything, even our relationship,” You were crying and almost hyperventilating at this point. He pulled you into a tight hug, to try and comfort you. His heart was hurting, how hadn’t he noticed earlier that it was this bad? “Jagi, no, you’re not failing our relationship, come live with me? You wouldn’t have to pay rent that way,” “I can’t just let you pay for everything,” 

“Then how about this, you move in with me, you keep your part-time job here but you back to your regular schedule, you can pay a fourth of the rent for my apartment, that’s about equal looking at what we each earn, and that way you still have plenty of time for classes, and for me, your boyfriend,” “How can I say no to that?” “You can’t, I’m just that irresistible,” 

[lees-chaotic-brain]

Hello! I was wondering if I could make a request for the song fic event if you're still doing that? I was wondering if you could do Too Sweet by Hozier for either Gojo or Bakugou? Any trope/theme is welcome, I want you to do whatever you think is best! Thanks so much, in advance!

summary: maybe you're just the little bit of sweetness bakugou needs in his life

wc: 1.5k

cw: swearing, light angst, reader is referred to as "woman" once, bakugou calls reader "babe",

note: i'm so so sorry this took so long, but anon, just know that i am kissing your big beautiful brain bc i freaking loved writing this. i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

listen to this while reading

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | BHNA Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Bakugou loves waking up next to you every morning but he’s especially content waking up to your warm, soft body pressed up against his this morning. Shifting you gently, he readjusts so he’s laying on his side, staring at your sleeping form with his head propped on his hand. 

It’s a miracle, he thinks, that someone as perfect as you chose him of all people. He has plenty of confidence in knowing he’s the best when it comes to defeating villains, but he also has the self-awareness to know that he’s far from the ideal boyfriend. He’s brash, loud, and not good at expressing himself. 

Yet someone like you -kind, funny, intelligent- chose someone like him time and time again until you reached today; your one year anniversary. Suddenly overcome with love and appreciation, he buries his face in your sleep-mussed hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Your hair smells like the bonfire you roasted marshmallows last night as you stargazed. To celebrate what he hoped was the first of many anniversaries, he had rented out a little lake cabin for the two of you to escape the public eye and enjoy each other’s company.

Feeling you stir in his arms, he looks down at you as you blink at him sleepily, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him. He swears his heart skips a beat (or two, or three) as he falls even further for you.

“What are you doing to me, woman?” He nuzzles into your neck affectionately. “You must have paid for some voodoo shit or something, because every time I think I can’t fall for you any more somehow you make me.”

Your laugh is soft, smudged at the edges with sleep, and you wrap your arms around him, kissing his chest.

“Someone’s feeling sappy this morning.”

And yeah, maybe he’s feeling a little sappy this morning, but as long as he’s with you he doesn’t mind showing his soft side.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

Bakugou loves his job almost as much as he loves you, but on the days that his line of work keeps him away from you, he can’t help but hate it.

It had only been a few weeks since he had taken you to the little cabin by the lake for your anniversary, but in the weeks since then he’s been swamped by mission after mission, the most recent one requiring him to go off grid for a couple of weeks. 

Sitting on the plane, waiting impatiently for it to carry him across the miles spanning between him and you, he can’t help but resent his job. He loves what he does, but he loves you more. Unable to help himself, he checks his phone every thirty seconds, eagerly awaiting a response from you.

What were you doing? Two hours later he was driving home from the airport, rough fingers tapping against the steering wheel aggressively. Normally you responded to his messages right away, and your lack of reply was stressing him out. Did something happen to you? The thought makes him nauseous, and he presses harder on the gas.

When he finally arrives at your apartment complex he’s out of the car in seconds and taking the stairs three at a time. The front door slams against the wall as he bursts through your front door, full of anxiety.  

“Babe! Babe! Where are you?”

Your head pops out from the room you had claimed as your office, and a grin stretches across your face.

“Kats! You’re home-mmph” You’re cut off by him tugging you harshly into his arms. “Dumbass.”

“Huh?” You try to pull away to get a look at his face, but he won’t let you. “Why am I a dumbass? I didn’t even do anything! I couldn’t have. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“Don’t remind me.” He grumbles, happy to be back at home with you in his arms again. “You scared me. I was worried something happened when you didn’t respond to my text.”

“Aww.” You somehow sound both apologetic and amused at the same time. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just trying to get some work done so I put my phone to the side. I’m okay though.”

“Good.” The huff of his breath against the curve of your neck sends a shiver down your spine. Giving him a couple more seconds, you enjoy the feeling of his warm arms wrapped around you before trying to squirm away. “Now that you know I’m okay do you want to clean up while I finish up this email? After that we can make dinner together.”

“No.” He doesn’t budge, practically draping himself over you like an oversized coat. “Just wanna stay like this.”

“Did someone miss me?” There’s a singsong quality to your voice that he doesn’t necessarily appreciate, but he can’t deny it.

He really fucking missed you; he always does when he has to be away from you. And he’s not embarrassed to admit it (to you at least). After all, isn’t it just a sign of how much he loves you?

I work late, where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done, but you worry some, I know

Watching you do your makeup, Bakugou is stricken by your beauty, admiring the sloping planes of your face, the curve of your cheek, the shape of your lips. He knows you’re gorgeous, but he still takes advantage of every opportunity he gets to admire you.

So he sits, content to watch you as you get ready. Wait. You’re getting ready to meet his friends. A chill runs down his spine.

“Hey babe?” “Yeah?” You don’t even glance at him, too focused on applying a perfect layer of mascara to your curled lashes. “What’s up?”

“Do you think you can take all of that off?” You close the tube of mascara, and look at him incredulously. “No? Why on earth would I do that when I spent so much time getting it to look good.”

“Because you look too good.” He scowled. “I don’t want Dunce Face getting any ideas.”

“Dunce face?” You arch a singular eyebrow and he feels his eye twitch. “Don’t do that either! He’ll like it too much.”

“Baby.” You stand up and wrap your arms around his neck. “So what? Let them look. You’re the only one for me. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one that would consider me raising an eyebrow attractive.”

“I changed my mind. We’re not going.” 

“Katsuki.” You’re not impressed, levelling him with a look that reminds him of that one emoji. “We’ve been dating for over a year and I still haven’t met your friends. This dinner is long overdue.”

He knows that. He does, so he presses a kiss to the side of your head and allows you to finish getting ready, your bright smile soothing the jagged edge of jealousy. Fine. He’ll take you to meet the idiots, but that doesn’t mean he has to be thrilled about it.

Because deep down, he doesn’t give a fuck what Kaminari thinks about you. He just wants to keep you, with your beauty and bright smiles, all to himself.

You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

Bakugou doesn’t like sweets. He likes his alcohol strong, his coffee black, and his food spicy. He (and everyone else) used to believe he didn’t need, or want, sweetness in his life. Until he met you.

All his friends were surprised when he took you to meet them for the first time. You were his girlfriend? But you were so soft, and kind, and…sweet. All of the things he wasn’t. How did the two of you even get along?

Then they notice the way he is around you. The harshness in his eyes fades when they land upon you, sharpness dulling into pure, unadulterated adoration. When he touches you with palms designed to explode and break things, there’s a gentleness in his movements, an awareness of his own strength and how precious you are. 

When he speaks to you, his words may be harsh, but all of the bite in them is gone, his voice soft and affectionate. 

So maybe, just maybe, his friends whisper amongst themselves as they watch him join you on the dance floor. Maybe the infamous Bakugou finally found the little bit of sweetness he needed in his life.

I'd rather take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me

thanks for reading, as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are so so appreciated!

everything taglist: @ponderingmoonlight @hotvinimon @evemooniepeach

bhna taglist: n/a

bakugou taglist: n/a

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXIII

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, folks. This is the end of Painted Smile season I. I think this is a good way to end the first arc. No worry, Season II is already on it's way, nothing is going to change. I'm still going to post as randomly as I'm doing right now! But please, enjoy today chapter, I liked it.

You were singing in the car with the biggest smile you had on your face. Alastor was behind the wheel, smiling, humming the same tune as your voice. 

You were the next day after your wedding’s night. It has been fantastic. Whenever you were watching there were smiles and laughter. You saw most of the guests having a hangover the morning before you left with Alastor for your honeymoon. 

Alastor didn’t tell you where you were going but from the changing weather you knew you were going south, surely toward the beach. He was holding one of your hands on his lap. Since you have been married, you couldn’t stay away from each other, you wondered how it was going to be once your soul would be bond. 

You fell asleep in the car, waking up when Alastor kissed your lips. You blinked slowly before smiling at him. He stroked your cheeks before going to take the luggages. You got out of the car and looked around with a big smile, you could feel the sun and hear the sounds of the waves not too far.

You watched at the little house in front of you and saw a grandma coming out with a big smile.

“ You must be Mr and Mrs Sanglar, nice to meet you, I'm Paulette.”

“ Nice to meet you,” you shook her hands,” my husband was the one with whom you discussed, I guess..?”

“ Oh, yes! The gentleman rented this lovely house for four days! You are near the beach, not too far away from the city, there are beautiful landscapes to be seen!”

You felt Alastor’s hand on your waist as he shook the old lady's hand with his charming smile.

“ Exactly, nice to meet you, I’m Alastor Sanglar. I came here two weeks ago so everything would be perfect once I brought my wife. I believe I made the right choice when choosing you, right?” asked Alastor, looking at Paulette.

“ Of course! Here the keys, put them on the mailbox when you leave! Have a lovely time here, you are such a lovely couple!” said Paulette as she hung the keys to Alastor.

You waved her goodbye as she left. You turned toward Alastor with a beaming smile.

“ You took me to the beach?” you asked with glee as he nodded. You jumped on his arms as he laughed, spinning you around. You always wanted to go to the beach, feeling the sand under your feet, watching the sun’s reflection on the waves, oh you couldn’t wait! 

Once Alastor put you down, you ran toward the house. It was cozy, not really your kind of decoration but who cared, you weren’t going to stay much inside if not for sleeping. You looked at Alastor who put your luggages on the floor, smirking at you.

“ What do you want to do first?” He crossed his arms on his chest, looking patiently at you as you thought out loud about all the possibilities. You moved your hands toward the luggages and telekinesied them toward the bedroom.

“ I want to see the city ! No, the beach!” you clapped your hands as your eyes returned to their usual color. He smiled before stretching his hand toward you which you immediately took before leaving the house.

You let Alastor guide you and you smiled even more when you saw the beach. It really was close to the house Alastor rented. You took off your shoes, Alastor already holding them for you. You touched the hot sand with your bare feet. The feeling was strange but grounding. You made a few steps before looking at Alastor with a big smile.

“ Come with me !”

You walked toward the water, and stopped in front of the ocean. You weren’t afraid of the water but knowing you didn’t know how to swim, seeing such a large amount of water kind of made you uncomfortable. 

You felt Alastor behind you, hugging you from behind. You touched his arms while staring at the water, yelping when you felt the water touching your toes.

“ Come on my love, are you still afraid of water after all we have done together ?” he mocked you as he spinned you around.

“ I’m not afraid!” 

“ And I’m not married to you. There, now we are both liars.” he smirked at you.

You stuck your tongue to him before looking at the ocean. You didn’t have a lot of good experience with water, you almost drowned two times. You were afraid of dying after finally obtaining happiness.

You flinched when you felt Alastor pinched your waist and before you could scold him he gave you a beautiful seashell. It looked like a rainbow had been painted over it. You carefully took the gift and immediately tried to look for another one, you wanted to give one to Alastor.

You both walked on the beach, taking seashells you found pretty or funny. You watched as the sun was beginning to get down on the sky, the light reflecting on Alastor. He looked divine.

You smiled softly before smirking. He was your husband but also your special person which meant you could be a brat if needed. You carefully took a fistfull of sand as he was looking at seashells. 

“ Dear husband ?”

“ Dear wife?” he said, still not looking at you.

You smirked as you walked toward him. You saw his shadow looking at you, tilting his head. You made a sign for him to stay silent. You saw it grinning before throwing the sand at Alastor who took a step back.

“ Oh, are we already playing?” he said as he slowly lifted his head, looking at you.

“ Don’t we always?” you grinned before taking off. You laughed as you heard him running after you. It was a little difficult as you weren’t used to running on sand but a few seconds after you screamed as Alastor tackled you on the floor. You laughed as he tickled you with a mocking smile. “ It’s because you forget rule number one!” you shouted as you trashed underneath him.

“ Well, it seems like you forgot rule number two.” He kissed your forehead before standing up. You caught your breath as he tried to clean himself from the sand. You looked on the side, as you felt water shyly touching you with its waves.  You stood up and smiled when Alastor kissed your hand before walking back to the old lady’s home. 

“ What should I make ?”

“ You don’t touch anything, darling. Let me handle it.” He said once you entered your rented home. “ Go take a shower, you have sand all over you.”

“ Whose fault is that?” you smirked as he tilted his head, innocently. You went to take a shower and came back in the kitchen when you smelt the delicious scent. You looked as Alastor chopped down the meat with deadly precision.  You decided you wanted to tease him, today. 

You held your hand toward the knife and smirked when you saw the knife moving off Alastor’s hands, rushing toward you. Alastor turned toward you, with an annoyed smirk when he saw you.

“ I’m trying to cook, dear.”

“ I don’t see what is stopping you.” you smiled sweetly at him. He walked toward you, sliding his hand on your shoulder until he touched your hand where you were holding the knife.

“ We both know we like it more when I’m the one with the knife, right?” he smirked when he leaned toward you, taking the knife from your hand. You bit your lips as you remembered when Alastor cut you when you were in your, now soon to be, home. You let a shaky breath as you saw his pupils dilated, staring at you. “ Right?”

“ Right.”

“ Good.” he said before going back to his cooking with a satisfied smile. You pouted before turning on the radio to have music in the background. You sway to the music, singing when you know the lyrics. You approached Alastor, your hand behind your back.

“ I want to help…”

“ Well… Can you dress the table?” he pointed toward a cupboard that was too high for you to get. “ The plates are there,” he said with a smirk.

You gave him a smirk as you easily opened the cupboard with your telekinesis but frowned when you saw Alastor’s shadow trying to keep the plates inside the cupboard.

“ Come on now, bad boy, let go !” you said as you force on your power, the shadow mocking you as he kept the plates in its grapes. You heard Alastor chuckling which made you even more agitated to have those damn plates.

“ Having some trouble, darling?” he sneered at you.

“ No!” You could feel power getting stronger in your eyes but then the shadow smirked at you before letting the plate go. You gasped before crouching, avoiding the plate that flew toward you. You bit your lips as you heard the crash against the wall behind you. You lifted your head toward Alastor who was trying to suppress his laughter.

“ Well?”

You turned around and winced when you saw the plates in pieces on the floor. You pouted as Alastor took the pieces in his hands, laughing  . You stuck your tongue at the shadow which was pointing at you while laughing. You turned toward Alastor when you heard him wince and looked at the cut he made because of the broken plates.

“ Do we have bandages ?” you asked as you took his finger to see the blood pouring out the cut. It seemed like a deep cut…

“ No need, darling. It’s going to stop soon.” he smiled at you, ready to move on.

You didn’t know what happened but you licked the wounds.

You licked his blood.

You closed your eyes as your tongue moved around the cut, collecting his blood and only stopping when you couldn’t feel the cut anymore. You opened your eyes, feeling strangely aroused before looking at Alastor who was staring at you with red eyes.

Your eyes widened, taking a couple steps back before being tugged back against him.

“, I’m sorry ! I didn’t–!”

“ Well done, my love, you healed me.”

You looked at his finger and freezed when you saw his hand was as good as new. You winced when you felt a little pain on your finger and looked at your hand. Alastor and you looked as you saw your finger being cut, just like Alastor a moment before, without any weapon around. 

“ I see… You can heal me because you took the injury yourself.” he mumbled, not seeming happy with the news.

You stared at the cut and a few seconds after, the cut disappeared. You looked at Alastor with a smile.

“ I think the injury stayed on me the same time it has stayed on you. Which means, if you ever have a serious injury, I need to heal you as quickly as possible, if I don’t want to keep the injury for too long.” 

You tried to find Alastor’s eyes, he seemed to be in deep thoughts. You knew he hated the thought of you being hurt, but if you decided to have this power, it was to be useful, to be there when needed. You would still use this power, he couldn’t control you on that.

“ I see… Well, I just have to not get injured, right?” he smirked at you as he kissed the place where was the cut moment before. “ You are pretty in purple, but I like them better in red.”

You tried to find a mirror and once you did you find that your eyes had a purple hue. You did know that Baron Samedi 's colors  were black, red and purple, you didn't expect your eyes to change color. Well, it did happen in the basement…

“ Well, darling, would you please set the table?” you rolled your eyes at Alastor's cunning voice.

You ate as you both talked about everything that would pass through your head. You were talking about your new home, how you should decorate it, how were you going to go to town if Alastor was already out?

You jerked your head up when you remembered something.

“John came to our wedding.”

“ I saw. What did he want?” he said as he bit into the meat.

“ He gave me a letter.. Wait, it should be in my bag.” You stood up and walked toward the bedroom before going back to your husband with the letter. “ He said it wasn’t from him but from his parents. We used to be good friends and they loved me. I'm a little touched that they thought about me on my wedding day…” 

You sat on Alastor’s laps and opened the letter. Your eyes widened when you saw what was inside. You knew the family Felleur was healthy but you didn’t expect them to give you 1,000 dollars!

You showed Alastor who frowned when he saw it.

“ Oh my god, Alastor…!” you gleed as he took the money from you as you jumped off his laps. “ Isn’t it amazing? After all he puts us through!” you screamed in joy, jumping in the kitchen.

“ Mhn.. Well, if it was from John himself, I wouldn’t take it. But if it is from his parents and they cared for you, who am I to refuse it.” he smirked as he put back the money in the letter and gave it back to you.

You smiled happily and looked at the clock. It was almost nine.. You turned toward Alastor who was finishing his plate.

“ Let’s take a walk.” he chuckled at your words.

“ Going outside, at night, in an unknown town? Are you looking for trouble?”

“ Aren’t we the trouble?” you smirked at him.

He groaned as he tugged you toward him and kissed you feverishly, making your legs shaking. He let you go before standing up.

“ Put on your shoes, love, we are going for a walk.”

You smiled as you put your shoes on after clearing the table. You went out with Alastor, holding upon his arm. You decided to follow a trail that seemed to go away from the city, feeling adventurous, you begged Alastor to follow it.

He sighed but accepted your supplications. You smiled as you walked on the trail that was made of sand. You could still hear the waves so the ocean shouldn’t be far off. The trail began to be a slope. Once you reached the top you looked down the hills and saw the ocean, you weren’t too high but you still gulped.  You looked at the scenery that was beautiful, the stars were reflected on the water, making it seem magical.

“ Alastor–” You turned before flinching when you saw Alastor jump off the hills, falling into the water. You looked as he threw his head backward, getting rid of the water inside his ears. “ Are you crazy?” you shouted at him which made him laugh. “ Stay here, I’m going to take the trail to–”

“ Jump!”

You froze when you heard his words. You felt like you were taken back when you were eight years old and Alastor has asked you to jump off the swing. 

“ Alastor…” you bit your lips, that time when he asked you to jump, it was on the floor, not in the deep ocean, you could see Alastor wasn’t touching the bottom of the water which meant it was already too deep for you.

“ I’ll catch you.” He said it loud enough for you to hear.

You looked at him as he was watching you with a boyish smile. You already fell for Alastor on time, the second time should be easier, right? You took a deep breath and then.

You jumped.

You could feel excitement in your belly, the air slapping your face as the water was coming closer and closer. You wanted to close your eyes all the way down but they were focused on Alastor but once you saw the water too close you shut your eyes.

You felt Alastor’s arms as you hitted the water. You wrapped your arms around his body before he swam the both of you toward the surface. You gasped for air and looked around before laughing as you stared at your husband with a wide laugh.

“Wow! Did you see that Alastor ! I did it ! Haha ! That was super amazing !” You looked at him with a wide smile, you did it! You actually jumped! 

You looked as Alastor hand cupped your face before kissing you. You closed your eyes as you kissed him back. You were in heaven. You were kissing him, with everything you have. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your breath began to get heavier. You leaned back with a shy smile.

He was looking at you with so much emotion, it was almost driving you crazy.

“ Let’s go back..”

—----

Next morning, you woke up in Alastor’s arms, both of you naked as the day you were born. You looked at Alastor’s sleeping face which was rare to come by. You kissed his lips before leaving the bed, taking a nightdress and began to prepare his black coffee. You flushed when you saw your reflection in the mirror.

Your neck, chest and thighs were bruised with bite marks and hickeys. You shook your head and decided to make waffles. You smiled when you heard Alastor leaving the bedroom, his footsteps coming toward you. You sighed in bliss when you felt him hug you from behind, he seemed still half asleep.

“ Why are you here…?” he asked in his deep voice.

“ I wanted to prepare breakfast.” You kissed his cheek and showed him what you prepared. He didn’t look, he just hugged you tighter. After a few minutes, he kissed your neck before leaning back and sat on the chair. You brought his coffee, looking at his face.

“ Are you alright, Alastor?”

“ I’m doing great, I was just thinking of the ritual, no worry.” he drank his coffee as you sat next to him. “ Why not go shopping today?” he asked you which you reply with a happy grin. 

You quickly took a shower and dressed up in a summer dress. You met Alastor outside the house and went to the city by foot, it was a 30 minute walk. You looked at the shop and smiled when you saw a sofa.

“ We should take it to our house, for the living room!”

“ My love, the house is big, remember? Bigger than the house we are staying at, right now. This seems a little small for the living room.”

“ What about the room that could be your office? If I remember there are three bedroom, one office room, the living room with a kitchen–”

“ Darling, I wouldn’t want this color in my office.” he grimaced as he looked at you.

“ But in the living room, yes?” you smirked.

“ … Please, no.”

You laughed as you kept walking, looking for things for your new home or for yourself. You find new clothes, a new hat for Alastor and some souvenirs for your family and friends. You ate lunch in a small restaurant that was delicious! Alastor didn’t like it much but he smiled when you said you could help him finish.

You walked back home, still full of energy! You looked at the full moon as Alastor was taking a shower. He came back to you, cleaning his glasses with a tissue.

“ Are you ready, my love?”

“ Mhn?”

“ Well, to bond yourself to me.” 

You stood up so fast you almost lost your balance. Was today the day? You nodded and followed Alastor in the bedroom. You looked around when you saw the symbols written on papers with ink.

“ I have everything we need.” He said with a confident smile. He walked back toward you with a blade. “ First, I need a place to mark you, if you don’t mind, dearest, I’ll choose your heart. I already carved an ‘A’ here, but you know I’m greedy. I’ll place my runes here…”

“ You have a rune for yourself ?” you asked him, curiously.

“ I created one, yes.” He tilted his head as you took off your dress, baring yourself at him. He walked toward you and cut you between your breasts. All you felt was pleasure, you held on his shoulder as you sighed in bliss. You could feel something sipping inside of you, it felt oh so pleasant.

“ Every time your heart beats, it is for me. This life is mine… “ He whispered against your skin. “Now,dear, unfortunately, you can’t carve  rune but you still have energy. Where do you want to place yourself on me.” he smiled at you with a teasing expression, watching you as you put your night dress on. “ My heart already belongs to you–”

“ Your forehead.”

“ Pardon?”

“ Well, we both know you always stay inside your mind for hours sometimes. I want to be the one who owns every single one of your thoughts.” You said confidently even if you could feel warmth on your cheeks. You advanced toward him, feeling power inside you. You kissed his forehead, closing your eyes. “ This twisted brain of yours will never work if my heart isn’t beating for you.”

You took a step back, looking at your husband who was staring at you with red eyes.

“ This is really cute, I don’t remember the last time I performed this curse!” you looked at Baron Samedi who was smoking his cigar.

“ Let’s finish this.” you heard Papa Legba. “ You need something that would be the material bond in the human world. “

You looked as Alastor took something of his luggages.

“ Eamon!” you shouted in surprise. 

“ Of course, dear. What is better to represent our bond than our fawn?”

“ He is a deer!”

“ Fawn. Now! Let’s begin.” he placed Eamon on the floor between the two of you. 

You felt Papa Legba energy coming inside you, you could hear your bone moves as he took place inside you. You watched as Kalfu slid inside Alastor easily. Your husband was now smiling in a humanly impossible way, his teeth yellowish. You watched as your body cut itself, letting the blood dripping on Eamon, Alastor doing the same thing.

Your mouth opened and you began to speak a language you didn't know, Alastor doing the same. You could see the symbols Alastor has written, moving in the air. They were glowing in a green light as the wind was moving the paper around you. 

You watched as Eamon began to light up in a reddish, greenish light. You hoped your deer wasn’t going to be destroyed…

You then felt a horrible pain in your chest. It was like something sharp was stabbing you, the blade always going deeper and deeper. You couldn’t move your body but the pain was real. You looked toward Alastor who seemed in pain as well. You could feel every beating of your heart, and each beating was sending knives in your veins. What was happening ? Were you dying ? 

You watched as Baron Samedi came toward you and wrote something in front of you which you didn't understand. He did the same with Alastor before stepping back.

You fell on the floor once you felt Legba leaving your body. You touched your chest, the pain was slowly going away but it hurted so much you were scared that if you moved it would come back.

“ Well, the curse is done. Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Sanglar, you are now bound forever and nothing can separate you, in the human and in the spirits realm.” you heard Kalfu smirked, clapping sarcastically. “ I can’t wait to see what you are going to be able to do, please, do not disappoint us.” Kalfu smirked before vanishing.

“ Both of you, be careful. With this, little lady, Alastor, see you again.” you heard Legba said before vanishing.

“ Please, enjoy what this bound has to offer!” laughed Baron Samedi before vanishing as well.

You lifted up your head and saw Alastor holding his head, his hands gripping his hair almost strong enough to tear it off. You crawled toward him and took one of his hands. You felt so tired you couldn’t talk but you needed him to know you were here for him. You were going to make it …

“ I know Darling, I just need a moment. My head is killing me.”

You blinked and touched your lips. Did you speak out loud? Sometimes you weren’t aware of it. You would just be thinking out loud and Alastor would tell you he could hear you which would make you blush.

But this time, you were sure you didn’t speak… Well, you could try, it could be funny at best.

Alastor, can you hear me?

“ Of course, you are next to me, but please, love, don’t speak so loud. My head hurts.” He groaned as he kept his hand on his head, gripping his hair while you were dumbfounded. No way… No fucking way ! You forced him to look at you, making him groan once more. “ What? Are you not okay?”

You kept his stare on you as you thought to him.

You tell me. I’m freaking out right now because I think you are hearing my thoughts.

You watched as his eyes widened, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes. Then, while you were trying to not freak out, something almost made you scream.

You heard Alastor voice in your head saying ‘ No fucking way..’. You stood up as you stared at him, he stood up at the same time as you.

“ Alastor…”

His smile widened before he rushed toward you and hugged you. He spun you around, laughing happily. You stared at him, lost but happy. He put you down and took Eamon with a smirk.

“ I don’t believe it. There aren’t a lot of archives about this spell but I sure didn’t know we could share our thoughts that way.” He put Eamon with care on the bed. “ My love, now Eamon is the material bound between us, nothing must happen to him, it could weaken what is linking us.” 

He laughed like a mad man, that should scare you but you just smiled softly, looking fondly at your husband.

“ Oh my love, curse of my sanity, I can’t wait to kill while hearing all of your thoughts!” he laughed, bending his body backwards, his hand hiding his eyes. “ I have a list of new victims, it only needs us to erase them from earth!”

You didn’t think about it, but if it meant hearing Alastor thoughts when he was killing or making love to you.. You flushed as bloodlust and lust took over you. You began to giggle as your husband kept laughing.

What a good day !

You walked toward him as he lifted you up in the air. You laughed as you both danced in the small bedroom while laughing. You stopped when you saw something.

“ Alastor…”

“ Yes?”

“ My shadow…”

He turned his head and both of you watched as your shadow was waving at you with a hideous smile, Alastor’s shadow next to it.  You tilted your head and the shadow did the same. You smiled.

Did the bond make you ‘steal’ one of Alastor's powers? You looked at your shadow, who was looking at Eamon with curiosity.  Alastor’s shadow was following yours, tugging at your shadow's hair before rushing somewhere else while your shadow was running after him.

“ Well… If you want it to go back to your shadow, just think about it.” Said Alastor, his red eyes shining with a teasing smile.

You did what he said and your shadow came back to you without a fuss, going back to normal. You looked at Alastor, your eyes as red as him. He tugged you toward him, the both of you smiling widely at each other.

“Oh this will be fun.”

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor @fandomsbookclub @hokkaido97 @catticora @gasiacos

[heylittleriotact]

𝐢 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖

𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐔

Emmrich works, Rook shops, dinner is imminent

Link to ao3 or read below the cut.

“Three times?”

“Yup.”

“And then this morning too?”

“Mhmm.”

“Damn. He must have been thirsting after you for ages.”

Rook tried not to look too pleased with herself as she regarded the shelf of dried pastas in front of her, purportedly deciding what shape she wanted, but in reality her mind was wandering down the enthralling path of recently forged memories from the night before.

The feeling of his lips on hers.

His scent.

The way he moaned while he was fucking her: not forced or put on. Instead, it was like he had never enjoyed anything in life quite so much as being entangled with her…

I’m in the grocery store with my best friend, picking up supplies for dinner - now is not the time.

Too late though: thoughts of Emmrich had already taken root, and sinful need slithered through her organs, twining around her guts and settling deep in her belly, impossible to ignore.

Later. Soon…

“Does he have Instagram? Facebook? I wanna see this silver-fox-fuck-machine for myself.”

“He doesn’t,” Rook said quietly, her lips curling at the absurdity of Emmrich having any kind of social media accounts. Most funeral professionals had nearly invisible online footprints - in an age where everyone you ever met was likely to look you up online, remaining largely unsearchable was the only sure way to guarantee your privacy.

“LinkedIn?”

Rook wrinkled her nose and pulled a box of linguine off the shelf, tossing it in the basket Leon held. “What? Cuz he’s old?”

“I mean… yeah?” Leon shrugged, his soft, dark brown eyes widening innocently.

“Shut up, Leon,” Rook squeezed past him, bumping her shoulder against his pointedly despite the abundance of space in the empty aisle.

“What?” He giggled, falling into step behind her, shaking his luxurious mane of thick black hair. “Nothing to be ashamed of - you were the one that couldn’t shut up about him at the Mussels Absinthe show a few weeks ago. You bagged yourself a sugar daddy - good for you! Wish I had that pull.”

Her cheeks heated as they wandered towards the produce section, “Can you maybe try not using your fucking radio voice while we’re discussing my sex life in the grocery store on a Thursday afternoon?”

“Just sex then?” Leon forged on, not bothering to lower his warm, booming voice at all. “Or have the seeds of romance been planted and fertilized?”

“Leon.” Rook ground out, looking around to make sure no one else was being subjected to this.

“Oh yeah,” he remarked observantly, “You fucking like him, don’t you?”

“What’s not to like?” Rook retorted, manhandling a practical, sound-minded bit of dignity into the conversation as she selected a basket of mushrooms. “He’s stable, supports himself, has a functioning vehicle that’s not filled to the windows with garbage, doesn’t bitch when I tell him to wear a condom, and knows how to get a girl off.” She dropped a mesh bag of garlic bulbs into the basket with unwarranted spite. “Bet he won’t ask me to buy weed for him and his band buddies, or go running to Mummy for rent money each month either.”

“I love it.” Leon said, rubber voice adopting a whimsical tone, as he switched the basket to his other hand and squeezed a grapefruit because Rook knew he’d eyed it and felt like he needed to. “The complete about-face rebound from pie-in-the-sky wannabe rockstar burnout to sophisticated man-about-town is truly inspiring. Tommy is gonna shit himself.”

“It’s not a rebound, and Tommy’s not gonna know a damn thing about it,” Rook snapped, sounding just as harsh as she intended to. “That fucking dickhead doesn’t deserve a window into whatever happens to be going on in my life. He lost that privilege when he fucked that stupid waitress at The Hanged Man… and that was after the shithead already fucked around once and got caught.” She shoved a few shallots into a bag, pretending she was shoving them down Tommy’s throat. “I know he asks around about me - I’m not stupid - and you’d better not be fucking telling him anything about me: I don’t want him knowing where I work, what I’m up to, who I’m fucking, or even what I’m doing with my fucking hair these days. He’s a piece of shit and I hope he chokes on his fucking tongue.”

“Point taken,” Leon raised his eyebrows. “And just so you know: I haven’t said a word to him - and I never would. I haven’t even seen him around at shows or anything for the past month at least.”

“Good,” Rook quipped, calm entering her voice. “Maybe he’s finally made himself useful and gotten a fucking job. Or better yet: done us all a favour and dropped dead.”

It was always one thing to make arrangements with a family that clearly didn’t know much about their loved one in life, but it was quite another thing altogether to sit in an arrangement office with the overwhelmed family trying to guide them towards decisions while simultaneously steering them away from ones that their loved one was blatantly disagreeing with in real time.

“Next! I really don’t care for gerber daisies and I haven’t a clue as to why they think I have some sort of attachment to them.”

Emmrich subtly glanced up from the pages of the binder of floral arrangements into the ghostly visage of the recently deceased octogenarian hovering around it with the rest of her family.

Over the years he had mastered the art of subtly urging the living towards the decisions of the dead, but it wasn’t always easy: it was a balancing act on both fronts that to his knowledge, no other funeral professionals but himself had to manage: the rest only had to worry about satisfying the living. Emmrich had to make sure everyone was pleased.

Try explaining that to the dead, though: the average person rarely considered it in life, but the reality was that funerals were - and always had been - just as much for the living as they were for the dead. Of course celebrating the life and legacy of the departed was of utmost importance, but the communal event itself: the ritual of a funeral, be it Andrastian, Qunari, non denominational, or anything in between was arguably more for the people left behind than the ones who did the leaving: an opportunity for the bereaved to come together and support each other through the heaviest days of their grief. To weep, and laugh, and share stories and regrets. But the world was changing, and fewer and fewer people saw the value in said rituals. Thought them trite and old-fashioned and impractical.

It was a shame, really. But as it stood, society seemed to prefer to grieve privately… or not at all, preferring to bury their sorrows in busy things like work, and commitments; happy to deny that they felt anything at all in favour of letting that vacuous wound inside of them fester and scar rather than accepting the laborious journey of grief and the healing that came with it. No one liked saying goodbye. No one enjoyed losing a loved one. But… that was life, wasn’t it?

And of course, what came after death was a mystery to everyone. Even Emmrich, who had been able to commune with the metaphysical imprints of the recently deceased since childhood was unable to say for certain what followed that final breath: not everyone became a ghost, it seemed, and those that did tended not to linger overlong - less out of choice, he knew: the echo of a soul could seemingly only sustain itself in this realm for a finite time, becoming progressively less substantial before eventually fading away forever. Where it went after that, he couldn’t say.

That was what kept him awake at night. Not the awful music someone might choose, or the fear that his funeral would be poorly attended. No - it was the creeping, uncaring entropy of death itself. The utterly dispassionate way it claimed everybody and everything. The way it would eventually claim him too.

“While we were working on your Mother’s obituary, I recall that you indicated she kept a garden at your childhood home in Cumberland. Are you able to remember if there were any flowers that she particularly enjoyed growing there?”

Of course he was asking her surviving son and daughter, but he was most certainly asking the ghost of Maude Laviolette as well. Something to go off of from any of them would be helpful at this point - they had been in arrangements for nearly two hours by then, and it was clear that everyone was growing tired.

“Delphiniums. Stock. Snapdragons.” Mrs. Laviolette ticked off garden flowers on her ghostly fingers, her voice an echoing melody composed of emotion and memory.

As the Laviolette siblings looked at each other over the table, trying to work out exactly what flowers their mother might have grown all those years ago, Emmrich flipped a few laminated pages of the binder, allowing himself to idly wonder what sort of flowers Rook liked - or if she even cared for them at all. It was so difficult to tell with her - assumptions almost always turned out to be wrong in her case, but she clearly had an affection for things that grew, so surely she appreciated the beauty of flowers?

“Perhaps an arrangement similar to this one here? The ‘Garden Stroll’ casket spray?” He tapped a ringed finger over the picture of a stunning arrangement of delphiniums, spray roses, mums, and iris that ranged from a delicate, powdery blue, to deep violet, to white.

“Oooooh you clever man!” The echo of the elderly woman clasped her hands under her chin and joy crept into her voice. “This is lovely! Could we swap out the mums for stocks and add in some snapdragons?”

“Oh yeah! Some of these look a lot like what Mum grew. The blue ones especially!” Eve Laviolette looked at her brother and pointed at the delphiniums in the photo. “Remember these ones, Aiden?”

Aiden Laviolette scratched at his dark brown beard and squinted at the binder.“I do. I do remember those. But there were others too that were kind of similar…”

“Snapdragons?” Emmrich prompted, for all intents and purposes, a senior mortician who was very well acquainted with flowers after so many years of doing this.

“That’s it!” Aiden exclaimed, “Snapdragons!”

“May I suggest if you’re adding the snapdragons, for the overall shape and spirit of the arrangement, you might consider switching out the chrysanthemums for some nice, gentle stocks? I’ve seen a similar arrangement where it was done to great effect.”

It wasn’t lying. Not really. Just… massaging the truth such that everyone - whether they had a pulse or not - was happy… or as happy as they could be given the circumstances…

He flipped to another page to show them an arrangement that featured some stocks.

“Eve, don’t you think that maybe Mum grew these too?”

Eve leaned over the page to take a closer look and gasped. “She did! What are the odds?” She looked up at Emmrich, her thin lips curving into a generous smile. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think she was giving you instructions from beyond the grave!”

Emmrich returned the smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling warmly as his face took on the oft-used expression that imparted comfort and peace to those living through dark days.

“A happy coincidence only, I’m afraid, but one that Mrs. Laviolette would be pleased with, I hope.”

His eyes strayed ever so slightly over Eve’s shoulder to see the phantom of Maude Laviolette, looking chuffed as anything as she looked over her daughter at the picture of the chosen floral arrangement.

“Thank you, young man,” she said, rubbing her daughter’s upper arm with the tender familiarity that only a mother could impart. Eve’s expression changed to one of surprise as she looked up at the touch, looking over her shoulder and seeing nothing. “You really are a credit to your profession. Thank you for taking such good care of my kids - Maker knows they need it right now.”

Emmrich entered the customizations for the casket spray into the file, went over the remaining details that needed to be decided that day, and printed the contracts to the administration office.

Taking the navy blue garment bag containing the clothing that Mrs. Laviolette’s family had brought for her to wear, he excused himself, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind him. He would see to the contracts and give Eve and Adrien a few minutes to chat openly amongst themselves and have some space without the pressure of a near-stranger sharing the room with them.

Rebecca (‘Becks’ as she was known to most) handed him the itemized clothing intake form he’d gone over with the family and printed out, and he folded it in half and placed it inside the garment bag before writing Mrs. Laviollete’s name on a manila tag and attaching it to the clothing hanger with a rubber band.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” he handed the permanent marker he’d used to sign the tag back to Becks and took the contracts from her next. “Oh, could I trouble you for a jewelry envelope? They also brought her glasses, her wedding rings, and a pair of earrings if memory serves.”

The relief admin reached into a drawer under the desk and surfaced with a self-sealing, manila envelope, adding it to Emmrich’s growing pile of paperwork.

It was always strange seeing someone else sitting at Rook’s desk. He’d gotten so used to seeing her there over the past months. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Rebecca - quite the contrary: she was very good at her job, and a lovely person, but she wasn’t Rook.

“Did you get permission to post the obit on the website?”

“Ah! I thought I may have forgotten something… my apologies, Rebecca - I’ll be sure to ask before they leave.” He treated her to an apologetic smile and scrawled a few x’s on the contract to better indicate where the family needed to sign.

“Forgetting things, Emmrich?” Remarked Joan, the other permanent chapel administrator from her own desk. She was in her forties and had tightly curled hair the exact colour of nutmeg. She twirled her pen in her hand and smirked at Emmrich - this sort of harmless teasing was not unusual from Joan. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fight you clearly lost with an octopus last night, would it?”

Oh dear - his collar must have slipped down, revealing the deep mauve love bites Rook had left on his neck.

“That’s hardly any of your business, dear Joan,” he retorted curtly, adjusting his collar with dignity as he continued to review the funeral contracts.

“You gonna bring them to the Wintersend dinner?” She demanded, and Emmrich threw a cautionary glance at Becks as she failed to subtly lean over her desk to try and catch a glimpse at his neck.

“Perhaps,” he flipped the page, circled the price of the casket upgrade that they had discussed. His phone vibrated in his breast pocket, heralding the arrival of a text message - he already knew who it was from, and his stomach fluttered pleasantly. “We shall see.”

“You haven’t brought a date in years,” Joan said. “Was just talking about it with Wayne-“ ah yes, Wayne: Joan’s husband who worked at the nearby cemetery - somewhat rough around the edges, but a lovely fellow all the same. “- last one was that uh… what was she an art appraiser or something?”

“An art dealer,” Emmrich sighed, focusing intently on the contract hoping that Joan would take the hint: he saw little reason to stand around discussing a former flame with colleagues. Not with a family next door.

“That’s right!” Joan pointed her pen at him. “Any idea what she’s up to these days?”

Emmrich bit back his annoyance and forced his expression to remain stoic. “I haven’t any reason to, so no.”

He preferred not to think about Philomena. Preferred not to think about how the avant-gardé and eclectic Orlesian patron of the arts was initially swept off her feet by his charm and eccentricity; his passionate need to understand death and all of its facets, and his almost poetic talent for finding splendour and hope amongst decay and putrefaction.

He felt terrible about himself whenever he thought too hard about her, and he was reminded by his subconscious that she’d gone back to Orlais about a year into their relationship and stopped calling him, texting him, and emailing him without a word of warning.

He never really understood why - never got a tidy explanation - but he had a few guesses: likely a culmination of many things - one too many cocktail or dinner parties amongst the elite creatives of Nevarra where he misread the room. One too many anecdotes about death or decomposition delivered with the casual ease of someone describing the process of preparing an omelette: “It’s a commonly held misconception that rigor mortis is a permanent affliction, however, the stiffening of joints and muscles after you pass on only lasts for a few short hours. Admittedly it can make it challenging for one to manipulate the extremities during that time, but simply massaging the affected areas causes rigor to subside in short order, restoring flaccidity and range of movement so the limbs can be moved freely once more.”

“… Ohhh!” Someone would say with feigned enthusiasm after too many moments had passed without anyone saying anything. “How… interesting!”

The slightly agape mouths and raised eyebrows told a different story.

Add to that one too many declarations of love and romantic intent: words trotted out in flowery verse; expensive gifts lavished with the unspoken hope that they could make him enough in her eyes: I can provide, see? You will never want for anything. I am safe. I am kind. I love you, I love you, I love you - will you love me?

He knew he got too attached too quickly and too easily. He always had, and when he was inevitably left to clean up the aftermath of another lover’s hasty departure from his life, his old friend and colleague, Johanna was always quick to point out that of course he had managed to frighten yet another one away with his saccharine yearning - as if he needed reminding.

Not that he cared what Johanna thought, but he could practically hear her calling him a cradle-robbing pervert upon learning about Rook.

And would she be wrong?

Sighing again, he marked up one more place on the contract before heading back to the arrangement office.

As he vanished around the corner, he heard Joan say to Becks too loudly for it to be accidental, “Seems pretty miserable for a dude that just got laid.”

I really should have taken her out for dinner first. How thoughtless of me…

The guilt hadn’t subsided by the time he arrived home to shower, change, feed Manfred, and return to Rook’s apartment.

She’d messaged him twice throughout the day. Once in the morning to say she’d had a nice night, and once in the afternoon to say she was looking forward to seeing him again shortly - that one had been accompanied by a picture of her wearing nothing but a towel, the curves of her perfect breasts just barely concealed by the grey terry; drenched hair dripping tantalizingly over her skin.

He was grateful he’d waited to look at that one until after the Laviolette family left, because within minutes of opening it, the utterly gorgeous still frame of her had him rock hard, and he found himself shamefully jerking off in a stall in the staff bathroom, desperate to finish so he could refocus himself and concentrate on his final arrangement meeting of the day like he wasn’t some sort of lurid sex obsessed deviant who had successfully reduced a woman like Rook down to a vapid sex object.

He was grateful for a change that the family he was assisting wanted a direct cremation with no service, no viewing, and no obituary. The sole executor brought the will, and was the only person attending the meeting. Everything had been prepaid in advance by the deceased, so there were no changes nor any new decisions to be made: simple, quick, and to the point.

Despite this, Emmrich still managed to spell the word ‘preparation’ incorrectly three times in a row, and almost gave the son making the arrangements Rook’s business card instead of his own.

There was nothing for it: he was a mess.

A besotted, smitten, horny mess, and at this rate it wouldn’t be long before he frightened her away too. What was he thinking? That this young, beautiful creature with a lifetime of promise and possibilities before her would be in a hurry to tie herself down to a man old enough to be her father?

That she would happily embrace the strange looks they would almost certainly get in public as people drew conclusions they had no business drawing?

That she would quickly come to know the worst of him that dwelled beneath the thin veneer that was the ‘best’? The insecurity and loneliness and self-loathing; the irrational fears and anxieties that kept him awake at night and overwhelmed his mind at times, leaving him little more than a quivering, hyperventilating wreck, curled up under the blankets and praying for the Ativan to kick in soon.

She would figure out that he was too much. Too different. Too weird - even by the very broad definition applied by morticians.

He would have to tell her that he could see and speak with the dead.

He would have to tell her that more than anything in life, he was afraid of dying - a wildly contradictory fear for one in this profession.

She was going to know before long that the carefully crafted facade of Emmrich Volkarin was a lie - brazenly thrust into the world, and effective only because of the sheer amount of time he’d been insisting upon it.

She doesn’t deserve this.

She deserves a future full of joy and potential and dreams that are entirely attainable, should she only dare to wish for them.

I didn’t even ask her to dinner before I slept with her…

It seemed stupid to get hung up on that, but he was: mutual feelings or not, it fell to him to take the lead, and rather than controlling himself and treating Rook with the respect she was due, he took her to bed and didn’t even have the decency to spend the entire night.

She deserves respect, and here I’m treating her like a fantasy…

Tuning out Manfred as he twined around and through his ankles, coating the hem of his pant legs with white fur, Emmrich sighed and pulled out his phone, preparing to call Rook and tell her he couldn’t do it - he wasn’t coming over.

But before he could place the call, a banner appeared at the top of his screen.

Another message from Rook.

‘Are you on your way yet?’

A reasonable and fair question - that wasn’t the part of the message that made his eyes prickle unexpectedly. It was the words that followed.

‘I miss you.’

‘I just made it home - I’ll be over soon - close to 7:00. I miss you too, Rook. I missed you all day.’

Just as he said he would, Emmrich arrived right at 7:00. Rook had spent the last twenty minutes stationed at the window again, staring down the length of her street, her stomach leaping whenever she saw headlights turn off the main road.

When she finally saw the recognizable shape of Emmrich’s lights, her stomach flip-flopped even harder, and she pushed away from the window, taking a moment to check herself over one last time in the mirrored closet doors to make sure she had dressed herself properly: her hair was nicely pinned up in a bun with stray wisps pulled loose to frame her face, and she turned her back to the mirror, looking over her shoulder to check for the twentieth time that she hadn’t accidentally tucked the hem of her stretchy burgundy velvet mini dress into her thong. Her stockings were free of runs, and she hadn’t managed to soak sweat stains under her arms yet - though she suspected that was about to change. Her makeup still looked pristine, and the softly tinted gloss she’d chosen over her traditional matte red lipstick still looked good.

Satisfied, she slipped out of her apartment and down the stairs where she waited at the front door for Emmrich to appear, emerging from the dark to stride up the walkway, as elegant and refined as ever.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight she’d been waiting all day to see: him - with his perfectly styled silver hair and his angular, distinguished face. He wore the same black pea coat from the night before, and had switched out the brown chinos for charcoal grey tweed trousers that bore the same impeccable tailoring. With his expensive looking Antivan wingtips and his cream coloured scarf he looked like a bougie fashion journalist or something.

He looked fucking hot.

“Fuck me…” she murmured under her breath before flinging the door open and grinning at him. “Hey.”

“Hello, Rook,” he beamed, stepping inside and taking the weight of the door from Rook, letting it close shut gently behind him.

He was holding a white paper shopping bag, and his glasses fogged up again the same way they had before, and for a moment she was at a loss for what to do with herself as they occupied the small vestibule.

Making a decision for both of them, he swept her against him with his unburdened arm and brushed his lips over her left cheek, then her right, before releasing her.

“I’m sorry it took me so long - traffic and Manfred, you see.”

Hoping he couldn’t see her sway in place as the elation of being touched by him again negated her ability to balance properly, she unlocked the main door and he followed her inside and up the stairs.

“Oh no… no problem at all. I know it’s a long drive. How was Manfred?”

“Oh he managed to break into the pantry today and ate an entire loaf of bread. I think he’s rather upset that I was absent last night for far longer than I usually am.”

Guilt wrung Rook’s gut then. “Sorry,” she glanced over her shoulder at him, offering a sympathetic grimace as they continued their ascent. “I’d say you could bring him with you next time, but there’s a ‘no pets’ policy and my landlord is a real prick about it - last year the old man in 204 got a hermit crab to keep him company after his wife died and the prick made him get rid of the little guy.”

“How sad,” Emmrich frowned, looking genuinely sorrowful at this.

“I brought him a house plant - a cutting of Perry, actually - and I try to visit him once a week for coffee. He’s grateful, but I think he’d be happier with his hermit crab… or his wife for that matter.”

Emmrich’s mouth curved in a soft smile, though the melancholy didn’t leave his eyes. “That’s very sweet of you, Rook.”

“It’s not,” she argued placidly. “It’s just the right thing to do: people should look out for each other, but for some reason they just… don’t and it annoys the fuck out of me.”

“That makes two of us,” Emmrich agreed, wincing slightly as they made it to the landing of Rook’s floor.

“Shit, sorry - are you okay?”

“Oh yes, just the ever-present protestations of knees that I should have cared for better in my youth.”

Rook didn’t know what to say to that. She certainly couldn’t render solidarity in the form of a believable ‘Ugh! Me too! Fucking achy joints amirite?’

She didn’t have achy joints: she was 25.

So instead she just nodded and opened the door to her apartment, ushering Emmrich inside with the same elevated politeness that she ushered families into visitation rooms with.

“What have you got there?” She asked, pointing at the bag that he had set down in the entryway so he could undo his scarf and slip out of his coat.

“Give me a moment to sort myself out and I’ll show you,” he retorted with the tempered ease she’d come to know. He hung his coat and the scarf on a hanger and put them in the closet before removing his shoes. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Damn right I do - I don’t dress up in my own house for just anybody.

“Thank you.”

Emmrich straightened and pushed his shoes to the side of the mat with his foot. He was wearing dark green dress socks with a beige diamond pattern on them, and a black turtleneck that made for a decidedly Warhol-esque look.

They regarded each other silently for moments that lasted far longer than they had any right to, clearly both at a loss as to how best to proceed.

“I uh… haven’t started dinner yet, but if you want some wine, I—“

Something seemed to snap into place in Emmrich’s brain and his eyes widened at her words. “Wine. Right!” He scooped the white paper bag up from the floor and reached inside, withdrawing a visibly dusty bottle and handing it to Rook. “You must forgive me - I didn’t think to ask what was on the menu tonight, so it might be a poor pairing - foolish of me - but the… the wine I brought you last night is… well it’s…“ he sighed wearily, “This will be far more palatable, trust me.”

Rook looked at the bottle in her hands, swaths of dust cleared away to reveal dark, shining glass where her fingers and his had touched it.

She was far from a connoisseur of wines, generally opting to drink anything that had a price tag of $10 or less - or came in a box - and would surely get her drunk faster than beer.

“This is… this is… really nice wine, isn’t it?”

Emmrich made a dismissive sound in the back of his throat, “Hardly the nicest, but a definitive improvement on anything with a screw-top.”

Rook swallowed, feeling out of her depth: poor… stupid… uncultured.

Seeming to pick up on her discomfort, he plucked the bottle from her hands and wiped the remaining dust from the label. “It’s from my personal collection: one of a few that I have left from a good year. I think I purchased a case of these for eighteen dollars per bottle, so it’s less that I broke the bank, and more that I stumbled upon something good and decided I wanted to hold onto it.”

“I don’t even know if I have a corkscrew,” she admitted, still feeling sheepish.

“Well we’ll sort that out if we need to,” he treated her to that easy, nonjudgmental smile again and picked up the bag again, handing it to her. “For you.”

Rook’s eyebrow raised when she accepted the bag. She peered into it, then back to Emmrich, then she abandoned the entryway, placing the bag on the kitchen counter and reaching inside.

Her fingers closed around a hard ceramic pot, swaddled in cardboard and plastic. Carefully lifting it, she set the pot on the counter and pried the plastic away, revealing a plant with deep green leaves and a woody stem. Its delicate limbs curled prettily upwards, and small white buds were nestled in the fragrant greenery.

She gently rubbed a leaf between her thumb and forefinger, saying hello to her new friend.

“You brought me a plant?” She asked, staring at the fledgling creature, her heart filling. “What florist is even open at this hour?”

“Odella’s, of course,” Emmrich answered, naming the florist that McDermott & Rafferty had contracted out for funeral flowers for years.

She felt his presence drawing close to her, heard him place the wine bottle on the counter gently, then felt his hand on the narrow curve of her waist - almost tentatively at first until it became obvious that she was not going to flinch away… only then did it settle. With his other hand he brushed a sprig of leaves and stooped slightly behind her, placing his face alongside hers.

“I thought to bring you flowers at first, but this seemed a more fitting offering than an impermanent and fleeting bouquet, given your passion for growing things.”

She didn’t understand why at the time, but the fact that he remembered - or even cared - about her affinity for houseplants made something tighten in her chest.

Tommy hated them. He thought they were a waste of time. Told her if she was gonna bother putting so much energy into growing something, it might as well be smokable.

“Do you… like it?”

Rook realized that she hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t said anything. Not so much as a ‘thank you’.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, though she hadn’t any clue what it was. “It’s… it’s a…?”

“A jasmine plant,” Emmrich assisted. “It will bloom for you in time, so the flowers are forthcoming.”

Rook pulled her gaze from the small potted plant and turned against the edge of the counter so she was facing Emmrich.

“Something to look forward to, then,” she smiled, looking up at his kind face. She curled her fingers into the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. “Thank you. For the plant, and the wine… you didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he entreated, his sweet, spearmint scented breath washing over her cheeks as she fixated on the enticing shape of his lips.

She still needed to start dinner. She hadn’t even put music on. She promised him a meal, and here she was, wasting time…

“You been tested recently?”

The amorous look in Emmrich’s eyes vanished, replaced with confusion. “Tested? I—?”

“STI panel.”

“Oh!” The faintest blush crept over the bridge of his nose and he looked at the cupboards over her shoulder. “Every year, or after a new partner, whichever comes first, but… I haven’t had a new partner in some time and-“

“You’re clean?”

The flush deepened, diffusing over his cheeks. “W-well yes, of course, but-"

Satisfied, Rook pushed away from the counter enough to drop to a crouch, one knee brushing the floor as she undid Emmrich’s belt buckle and slipped the button of his trousers loose.

Catching on, he managed to babble, “Rook, darling, y-you don’t have to-“ before she dropped his zipper and pulled his dick out of his underwear, casting one cheeky look up at the stammering man in front of her before taking him in her hand and dragging her tongue up the underside of his cock.

“Ah!” He moaned unbidden at the sudden wet warmth when she took him into her mouth, buckling slightly against the counter behind her. “R-Rook!”

Her other hand found the back of his thigh and she locked him in place, filling her mouth with his semi-hard length, hollowing her cheeks and sucking him in, her pussy immediately responding to the high pitchy breaths - little half groans and whimpers - that poured from his lips.

He was surprised by this sudden turn of events, yes, but he didn’t pull away; didn’t tell her to stop. Instead, his gasps gave way to deep elated sighs as she worked him with her mouth and her hand, taking her time and worshipping his long, thin cock, tracing every handsome vein; revelling in the salty tang of his skin and the slickness of his precum on her tongue as she knelt in front of him.

“S-so good…” he whispered, carding the fingers of one hand through her hair, his head tipping back, “Oh… that feels so, so good…”

I know it does, handsome…

Rook hummed approvingly around him, feeling him throb against the roof of her mouth. She let go of his cock, wrapping her wet fingers around the back of his other thigh before slackening her jaw, opening her throat, then taking him deep, deep, and deeper still until she felt him butt against the space just beyond her tonsils. He squirmed in her hands, biceps femoris fluttering coyly under her fingertips. His hand tightened in her hair, but not enough to hurt.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, filling her lungs and belly, lost in the cathartic victory of the bliss she was subjecting him to; the smell of him; the dainty sweetness of the viscous, anticipatory fluid that continued to seep from his sensitive slit...

He moaned her name quietly again when she eased him further down her throat, exhaling slowly… so slowly through her nose as she went, bobbing her head slightly and going further with each stroke until he was fully seated and her nose brushed skin beneath the coarse thatch of hair on his lower belly.

He positively vibrated in her hands - ass clenching, thighs spasming, hips jerking, the nails of his free hand scrabbling over the smooth surface of the counter as Rook swallowed around him and fucked him with her throat, each lewd wet thrust punctuated by the unseemly sound her vocal cords made as they were repetitively prodded by his intrusive length.

“Darling…” he whined, a man toeing the chasm of abandon. “D-darling please… I can’t… oh - I’m going to— ohhh!”

His words were cut short and he went rigid as a corpse before uttering a strangled yelp and collapsing against the counter with a thud, propped on an elbow as his hips jerked gracelessly against Rook’s face and she felt his hot, thick cum spill down her throat - one satisfying, relieving pulse after another.

She moaned as she swallowed him, cunt aching as she drank him deep, his warmth spreading through her, her name falling raggedly from his mouth over and over and over, each repetition more reverent than the last.

When he was done, she twitched her jaw, let him slip wetly from her, traced her lips with her tongue, and smiled up at his fucked-out face.

“I was looking forward to an appetizer, and it was delicious…” she rose, tucking his cock back into his pants and doing them up. “So… how about that glass of wine, handsome?”

It was actually pretty funny, the way that Emmrich was gaping at her with his unusually clumsy fingers absently trying to configure his belt buckle, his face flushed and shiny with post-orgasmic bliss.

“Wine,” he swallowed, throat bobbing, hazel eyes blown out behind the lenses of his glasses. “Yes, yes… allow me.”

He seemed to grasp onto some scant flotsam of rational thought amongst the pitching sea of post-nut clarity and finished with his belt, sliding his sleeves up his forearms and clearing his throat before saying (roughly), “If you did happen to have a corkscrew, where might it be?”

[gffa]

Do you have any Sith!Obi-Wan fics you can recommend? 🙏

Hi! You can do a search for Sith Obi-Wan in my bookmarks which brings up several or you can start with the novel-length ones that still live rent-free in my head even years after I've read them: Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 95.9k During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone. This fic was written for me, so I'm biased, but it's genuinely my favorite for the trope because Lily put all this thought into the undercurrents going on between the characters, because it gives such care about why any version of Obi-Wan would fall to the dark and what he would be like, because each chapter had moments of foreshadowing and care given to lush, beautiful descriptions and the creeping dread of the place. It's a gorgeous fic and I think even if someone doesn't usually like Sith versions of the characters, the way this one does it (created reflections, not that our characters are falling, so it's scratching the itch of how it's an extension of our characters, but our characters are not on that exact path), I would gently suggest this one.

Lex Talionis by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 187.1k Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin fell to the dark side, obtained their revenge, and saved the galaxy in the process. My other favorite Sith Obi-Wan fic, this one is about how these characters fall to the dark, and the author takes his time with how it happens step by step, but also how these massive, galaxy-spanning changes happen, how it's a combination of how sexy the dark side can be but also how awful it can be, how much pain and hurt it can cause. There's so much care and effort put into this story, it spans such a huge story, that it's one of those fics I want to physically print out in special binding because it deserves to be a pretty set on my bookshelf.

wicked thing by imaginarykat, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 124.2k the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Kenobi is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess. This is an AU where Obi-Wan never trained Anakin and is already a Sith when we meet him, and there's a reason it's one of the most famous fics in the fandom, because it is the most charismatic thing I've just about ever read, the sheer amount of dark side sexy charm coming off Obi-Wan is incredible, the tension between him and Anakin is delicious, and the writing/plotting of the storyline is superb. I could not put this fic down when I read it, there's a reason this fic helped really popularize the trope, because it's just so goddamned addicting and glorious to read.

Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 106.4k wip Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness. Trapped out of time, Master and Apprentice must once again work together to stop Sideous’ plans from reaching fruition and bring Balance to the Force—all the while dodging the Jedi, the Sith, and their feelings for each other. I think this might even have been the first Sith!Obi-Wan fic that I read and I know it remains dear to me because I reread it a year or two ago and got sucked in just as hard as before. Obi-Wan is dropped back into his younger body, feels like the whole thing is a bunch of bullshit, gets sucked into dark thoughts, and just goes full dark side dom on Anakin and fixing the galaxy through machinations and foreknowledge. It's so fun and it does such great service to Anakin's level of power, that this guy is an absolute dragon in the Force, but that he also very much wants Obi-Wan's hand on the back of his neck to force him to kneel to the one person he loves. Hnngggg, it really cemented me as a fan of this trope because of how well it scratches the sexy dark side dom/sub while they're both badass dynamic, I love it so much.

I'm still making my way through a lot of Star Wars fic, so if anyone has any more recs, feel free to jump in, especially if you have some gen ones, since I mostly read pairing fic for Sith!Obi-Wan (because I'm personally after the sexy dom/sub dynamic with it)!

[wishcamper]

happy @rhystaappreciationweekend!

here's my humble entry for day two: like calls to like

tbh i am not that confident in this one so please be gentle

Ash From Your Fire

When Rhysand arrives in the Spring Court for Calanami, he sees a pair of hands that look familiar. Only things don't go according to plan on one of his last nights alive.

Or, when Rhys finds a different Archeron on Fire Night.

Read on ao3 here or below the cut.

------

Of all things broken and rent, promises lost and fates shattered, Rhysand knows this: her hands will be his salvation. They are as twin doves, pale as snow, heralding the peace he’ll bleed for in her name.

A name he does not yet know.

Firelight stains his vision, the insects in the night air deafening and the sky is so much bigger than Rhysand remembers when he sees them. The hands that have held his dreams of late, now restrained before her by a long-fingered fae.

His legs carry him unbidden, the threads of fate that have brought him here converging, urging him to tear apart the three males looking at her with glittering, hungry eyes. Convenient marks for the traitors he promised to bring Amarantha, at least.

They’re trying to glamour her—and it isn’t working, not on her. This human. This woman.

Intriguing.

She’s tall for both, and his hands itch for wanting to touch her as Rhysand stalks closer, star-flecked power whipping even in its weakness. Her back is to him, cloak roughspun and too heavy for Spring, but he can smell the sweetness of her mortality, the salt of her fear.

Giddiness pools in his belly like sparkling wine. He’s about to see her face.

She says something he can’t make out and they shove her, those precious hands scrambling to find the ground before her body does. He manages to catch her about the shoulders, holding her back firmly to his chest and the warmth—the wamrth—of her body leaves him drunker than mulberry moonshine.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

She goes rigid at once before wrenching out of his grasp. Stumbling, she reaches for whatever weapon is stowed at her belt and Rhysand see the three males square off, scenting the desperation of prey. He wraps an arm around her waist before she can make it worse, trapping her against his side.

“Thank you for finding her for me,” he hisses, mind probing toward the three black-eyed fae. “Enjoy the Rite”

He slips his other hand in hers, struck dumb from touching the very elixir of his dreams. Her pulse runs rabbit-quick as he drags her toward the forest’s edge, a cloak of night obscuring them from undiscerning eyes as they disappear beneath a towering willow.

Gods, he wants her. Feels in her the last untouched part of him, the only piece left untainted by his own rotten choices, his ruined life.

“Unhand me,” she snarls when they’re beneath the canopy, and he can’t help but wonder why she let him isolate her. Not when she’s staring at him now like a chained hel-cat, disdain dripping from her refined features. Drums begin to pound across the hills, portending the revelry.

“What’s a mortal woman doing here on Fire Night?”

The wise course would be to look into her mind. Cowardice wins, and he can’t bear to hear what she must think of him. Every second is a risk but he can see the flush building in her cheeks, the night’s magic trying to permeate her skin. But there’s something impervious about her, and when he finally summons the courage Rhysand finds a steel wall around her thoughts. Unscalable, unbreakable.

Very intriguing.

She struggles against his grip but he holds fast around her upper arm, keeping her hands away from the short dagger he now sees at her belt. Yet he can feel her holding back something of her strength.

When he tries to enter her consciousness once more, the woman evicts him violently, razor-like pain shooting through his temple. He’s so surprised by it that he doesn’t register the ashwood dagger she draws from her boot until it’s too late.

She presses the searing point into the soft flesh under his chin.

“Come with me. Do not cry out, or it will be the last sound you make.”

Then her face is inches from his and her eyes are the ice of an Illyrian river and it’s dangerous to think things like that, things that make him feel alive again. He can get away—should get away—but it’s like taking a breath after living underground, looking at her, feeling her hands on him, which should be a metaphor but is not.

The future looms ahead, a great wave. In equal parts despair and fascination, Rhysand allows himself to be led, wondering if these hands he’s dreamed of are destined to set him free in an entirely different way.

She jabs the dagger into his ribs and guides him deeper into the forest, footsteps unsure as the firelight fades behind them. Rhysand can’t stop staring at her face, the endless braid dangling down her back. At last she whirls and points the dagger at his neck once more, signaling him to kneel.

He obeys, despite the ability to kill her in a second. Moon crickets chirp in the underbrush, silver light pulsing in time with his heart.

“I seek another human,” she says, and he’s addicted to the edges of her voice, the k so crisp and clear. “My sister.”

The word ricochets around his mind, painful images he’s long thought buried slicing at his composure. The rush of the current, two small wooden crates bumping against a rock where they’ve been snagged amidst the hag’s grass.

He has to gather himself. Knows he may never get another chance to see her, to touch her, and wants to make this last as long as possible before—

“We do not dabble in your world unless invited. There is a treaty after all.”

The mask slips into place, his oily persona suffocating as all he wants is to bare his sinner’s heart before her. Grey eyes narrow, fiery as opals in the night.

“Perhaps you’ve seen her being accosted by some other scoundrels. Tell me.” She presses the knife closer. “I know you cannot lie.”

“I would’ve remembered seeing a face such as yours,” he says, and the truth is a rose shrouded by thorns. Rhysand would’ve remembered her face if he’d been gifted it in his dreams. He reaches to brush her cheek but she slaps him away, the sting reverberating up his forearm.

“Do not touch me.” The woman shoves the dagger deeper into his skin, and he feels deranged as he breaks into a grin.

“And what do you plan to do now?” he asks, hoping against hope the answer is that she’ll lay those perfect hands across his body, sweep away those cursed fingerprints tattooed on his skin for decades.

It’s been a long journey, wherever she’s come from. Her hem bears tidelines of stains from repeated dampening, speaking of a trek through deep snow. It must still be winter below the Wall. And she’s not one of those blithe Children of the Blessed, fools too hapless to save their own skins.

No, not this woman. His power surges, knees bracing in the dirt.

“Answer my question, and I will release you unharmed,” she hisses from that perfect mouth, lips he wants to bruise until they’re dark as berries.

“Bargaining with a fae? I don’t remember humans being this bold.”

“Bold is refusing to heed the one with a knife to your neck.”

It’s enough just to keep her talking, but euphoria floods him, urges him to yank her stained hem upward and bury his face between her thighs. It’s the magic, he tells himself, Calanmai’s power making him woozy and rash.

“You make a compelling case, darling.” It’s an effort to keep the hunger out of his voice, the longing. “I will answer your question in exchange for one of my own.”

“And you will answer me plainly, I know of your wordplay tricks.” She furrows her brow, and he knows if he could permeate her mind he’d hear her repeating the question, searching for loopholes. “Is this the home of someone called Tamlin?”

Rhysand catches himself before he snarls against his will, barely a ripple in the night.

The layers of time stack atop one another. His first Fire Night, hiding snorts of immature laughter from a treetop watchtower. And the clearing, blond hair splayed out on moon-flecked, mossy ground.

It’s like tapping a keg, the flow of memories released. Ones he can’t entertain, lest his old life escape the dark dungeons of his brain.

It’s too late. Cassian’s face, Mor’s, Azriel. String lights in the alley at Sevenda’s, the rush of the wind under his wings.

Rhysand swallows. Makes himself forget.

“Yes. Now I get a question in return,” he adds before her mind can run off in too many directions, greedy for the harsh light of her attention upon him.

“That was not the agreement.”

“You said you would tell me why you came. Were you planning to trick me? Tell me you seek your sister and nothing more? Perhaps you assumed you’d work up the nerve to drive that dagger into my throat by this point.”

He’s right, he can tell by the way her sharp jaw tightens.

She tilts the dagger downward, bringing one perfect hand into his direct line of sight.

Mother, they’re even more intriguing up close. Scars fleck her knuckles, healed but not distant. He remembers chopping wood at the cabin, Cassian terrorizing Mor with a fire-toad from the creek, Azriel’s rare booming laugh. His friends now trapped, soon doomed just as he’ll be.

Gray-blue studies him, as if she can see all the wreckage he’s left behind. He can only stare back in his brokenness, wants to beg her to kiss him, to kill him, to tell him it’ll all be alright. That it’s all been worth it, that he hasn’t shredded his soul in vain. Her delicate nose wrinkles.

“Stop looking at me like that. You—you’re trying to glamour me, aren’t you.”

Her brashness is like biting into a lemon. It’s been so long since he’s been truly able to spar, brow-beaten and slimy as he’s become the last forty-nine years. Old parts creak to life, dark fire dancing.

“Not on my honor as a male.” He crosses a finger over his heart for show, drawing the most glorious scowl. “It’s beneath me to harm a female, darling. In fact, I much prefer the opposite.”

It feels wrong, goading her like this. He’s been underground so long, away from kind touch, kind words. This woman likely has neither for him, but he can’t help pulling closer, wanting to draw in her scent. Mother, he wants those hands on him.

“I’m sure you’ve dreamed of us before. Our prowess is of legend, after all.”

“As is your bloodthirst,” she sneers.

He has nothing left to lose, mere months until his fate is to be locked beneath that mountain forever. One more night is all he wants. Her softness around him, cradling his shriveled heart.

“The only thing I thirst for sits before me.”

She startles when he wraps a hand around the back of her luscious thigh, feeling her pulse race. Give in, he thinks, give in give in—

She spits in his face. “You’re despicable.”

Rhysand rises then, drawing to full height so he looms over her, gripping her hand and the dagger between them. Relishes the way her pupils dilate in the gloom, reflecting the star-flecked power gathering around him. Spring magic is clouding his thoughts, the fog of lust-addled visions obscuring his judgment.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

She struggles against him. “I’m not leaving without my sister.”

“I would guess she’s preoccupied if you can’t find her. Fire Night does strange things to us all.”

He dares to brush the backs of his fingers down her cheek with his free hand once more and her skin is so soft, delicate as a butterfly’s wing. It belies the truth he senses below, that sets him back on his heels. That he should not underestimate this woman. It’s hard to remember why as his cock stirs, magic pulsing through the ground.

“I will escort you back to the Wall, if that is your desire. But if you wish, however, to mine for the night, then I will make it so.”

Wreckless, so wreckless he’s being. A flush creeps into her cheeks.

“I am betrothed.”

It’s an arrow through his heart, moreso than it should be. That the hand that offered him salvation belongs to another, a hand that he now registers is suspiciously bare.

“I see no ring. Is that not your people’s custom as well?”

“Do not speak of my people.”

“I shed my blood for your people’s liberation.”

She thinks he cannot lie. He’s never been so grateful to tell the truth.

“Seems only fair after your kind enslaved us for millenia.”

Laughter bubbles in him, a foreign sound, a long-lost feeling. That she should be so defiant even in the maw of his power, in the heart of Prythian, outmatched and outnumbered. It only makes him want her more.

“Surely you don’t plan to doom yourself to one underwhelming human man for the rest of your short life. Not when I can see that he didn’t bother accompanying you on such a dangerous journey.”

Her full mouth twitches, and he wants to trace the shape of it with his fingers, his tongue, his co—

“I’m not afforded the luxury of desires. That’s why I’m here.”

“Whoever has your sister will never let her go.”

“I know. I’ve come to take her place.”

He sees it then, the terror she’s been working so hard to suppress. Feels it in the tremble of the dagger still between them.

“You would sacrifice yourself for her.”

She nods, and it doesn’t surprise him. It’s her sadness that does. How it hangs on her like a wet cloak, held up by the iron strength of her spine. He imagines that if he looks closer he could see the strain, the tiredness of holding herself up for so long. The exhaustion and relief to be here at last, in the final leg of her quest, close enough she’s about to break.

It’s a burden he knows too well. A weight he carries as he tries not to remember his family, his promises indellibly broken. He knows that look, too, of having failed those who need your protection the most.

“All the more reason to indulge in one more night of freedom. Trust me.”

He lets himself touch her face once more and she allows it, breathless whispers skittering across the space between them and he wants her, he wants her.

“Join me. I will ensure we are not observed.”

Her body wants to give in, he can feel it. Wishes he could enter her mind to see which way to nudge her, how best to—

“What will you give me in return?” she asks, the minx. It makes something in him flare, that defiance. Her warrior’s heart, how reticient she is to cede any ground.

“You may keep your dagger to my neck, if it will make you feel better,” he chides. Her gaze travels his body, alighting on the planes of his chest.

“I don’t think I should trust you.”

“That’s a wise instinct.”

“Why do you reveal yourself?” A genuine question, one he cannot give her the real answer to.

I am destined to die soon. I have seen you in my dreams. I have no hope but that which you give me.

“I am.. lonely.” It slips past his teeth before he can stop himself. He clambers to save the moment. “What is your name?”

“Nesta.”

“Nesta. I am Rhysand.”

Her name in his mouth tastes almost as sweet as her lips do when he gathers her to him, when he winnows her to the clearing. Five hundred years divide that night and this one, but he feels just as young, just as foolish. Just as trapped by time and circumstance, one tyrant’s boot on his neck traded for another.

Only this time they won’t be caught.

He’ll hold her, have her, give her something beautiful. And she’ll be a memory, something for him to imagine in these last days before his life is over. Before he summons the last of his power and detonates himself in the throne room Under the Mountain.

He can’t help himself, and her human body is drunk off magic and fear, every touch heightened. His wings unfurl and he hears her gasp, feels the brush of brave fingers along the outer bone and groans deeply.

“You are truly, truly exquisite, darling.”

“I am nothing but what you wish to see.”

Her hands are so different from what he’s used to. Tentative, respectful. He’s back holding the reins and it feels so fucking good, choosing something for himself for the first time in decades. There are parts of his body coming alive that have felt long-dead, surges of arousal in fits and starts, as if relearning how to surface.

It enough to make him want to cry. Enough to make him hate her a little, even as she gives him the best gift he’s ever received.

He eases open then buttons on her bodice, careful not to rip anything, not to prove true her fears of his viciousness. It’s hard not to tear the gown off her altogether, so hungry he is is for the salvation of her skin, the feel of those full breasts in his hands.

Her nipples are the same pink of her lips. He kisses them, reveling in the moans that travel from her chest upward to where he lightly grips her throat.

She tastes of honey when he finally reaches her cunt, so sweet and mortal, and he resists the urge to go back and remember exactly what he did to make her so wet. Because he can’t ever have this again. Once, only once, a last blessing from the Mother before his life is over.

Fingernails dig into his scalp.

“I didn’t know.. real gentlemen did such things.” She’s panting, eyes starbright and fearsome.

“Then you’re lucky I haven’t been a gentleman for a long time.”

He gives her everything, all the pleasures her world has robbed her of, but it’s not altruism that drives him. No, each touch is for him, for himself. Coupling from passion instead of survival. From want instead of fear. The life he could’ve had floats by.

And she’s breaking around his fingers, magic surging up and up, a silver mist mingling with his darkness like a comet’s tail streaking through the night sky.

It’s Starfall in Velaris, he remembers distantly. A vague fantasy of showing her the splendor from the House of Wind grows and dies. He’ll never see the glow, nor the way it might light up her face. How she might paint stardust across his body with those hands, how she might smile.

She’s beautiful. She’s not his. He wants her. She doesn’t belong to him.

He’ll winnow her beyond the Wall. Mother save her sister, but he cannot bear the idea of this woman falling into Tamlin’s hands. Falling in love with him. Bile rises in his throat at the thought.

But the drums are reaching their height and he feels ravenous, the blanket of night warm and forgiving.

She’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. These are his last days. There is no one left to answer, to apologize to. There is only himself, and the darkness, and the fear, and the deep, rumbling regret that drives him onward toward the cliff’s edge.

Later he finds Nesta’s tent in the snow, her guide asleep under the spell he’s woven across her eyes. He lays her down gently, removing her boots with care, drying her socks with a snap.

“Feyre,” she mumbles, and he wonders if it’s some human god he hasn’t heard of as he drinks in the image of her face.

Rhysand sends a prayer to Feyre as he summons the courage to winnow back to the Middle, the woods around him still and silent. Shoves his hands deep into his pockets, the only sound his footsteps crunching through the snow.

[mimising]

Summer with stranger | Carlos Sainz

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Carlos x (she)reader

Little angsty with sweet savoury.

--- It's my first time to write something like this. I have NO idea what I'm actually doing. Do enjoy if it's enjoyable.

---

“Please don’t cry.” Her head sifted from her hands. Big watery eyes looked up to him. He squatted down in front of her. “What’s the matter? Who made a pretty girl like you cry?” She sniffed. “Some arsehole.” The girl took a closer look at a man in front of her. His skin was golden brown, fluffy hair sat just right. Only she couldn’t look the man in the eyes. 

 Carlos put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ve heard that hugs make everything go away. Would you like to try it out?” His voice sounded sincere. She didn’t say anything but sifted her hands. That was all he needed to see and took the girl in his arms. One hand caressed her hair while the other held her tight against his chest. Head pressed against his neck and shoulder. He could feel her warmth and heartbeat. Tears started to slowly soak his shirt. Her smell was divine. 

 Slowly the girl started to feel a sense of comfort. The arsehole was forgotten for a minute. She felt safe. Although her nose was blocked from the crying she could smell his strong cologne wrapping her in a heavenly space. 

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Suddenly the comfort was gone and cold reality was back. The girl nodded. “Ye-yeah, I would like that.” 

He stood up and held his hand out to her. This was the first time she really looked up and saw the man's eyes. Soft brown eyes which matched with his fluffy hair. 

“I was on my way to the beach. If you're interested then we could go there for a swim.” He did have a towel on his other shoulder. “I don’t have a towel.” All she could come up with. The part where she didn’t really know how to swim was left out. “No need to worry about that. They must have plenty to rent.” 

If he hadn’t been so sweet she would have declined but for some reason she just couldn’t. “You are right. Will figure something out.” She smiled at him and looked away when their eyes met. Blood rushed to her cheeks. 

As they walked he asked if she was local but learning that she was just visiting and didn’t know much about the city did he start talking about the beauty of it. She enjoyed listening about cafes to visit and roads to walk through. 

The girl was quiet and he didn’t even know her name. “You are visiting for the first time. Is there a particular reason why here or?” 

“I was meant to pay a visit to my boyfr- ex’s summer house. Things took a darker turn and now I’m just here to leave.” “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-” “It’s completely fine. I should be the one apologizing and thanking.”

They walked side by side, almost close enough to hold hands. Occasionally catching sights of each other.  Her face started to light up. Teares long forgotten. 

The sand was warm under their feet. She soaked in all the warmth and hid the fear of the sea with smiling. 

“I never got your name..” As he was taking off his shirt he said “Carlos. Carlos Sainz. And you?” For a second the dictionary was forgotten. The man was ripped. She couldn’t stop blushing. After saying her name she held out her hand. He snickers but shakes it. Even his hand was twice her size. 

He tried to be polite and not check her out. What a naive idea. She looked like heaven. Her skin white like the milky way. It didn’t go unnoticed by her.“I’m from a colder area. That’s why my skin is so light.” He took a sharp turn to the sea. 

 “Run to the sea?” She really would have liked to run the other way. Without saying anything she started running to the sea instead. He was hot on her tail. “I’ll catch you, you little-!” 

 She cried out when he caught up with her. Easily running past. She cried out with laughter while adding speed. 

 Once in water, she slowed down. He went head into the water. She stayed back and watched. When Carlos didn’t see her beside him and almost on the shore he screamed “oh no, you are coming in the water!” And swam back to her. “Nono, I’m happy right here.” 

 Carlos didn’t slow down which concerned her and she tried to run back. “You are not going anywhere!” Playfully he pulled her into the water. The water was only to her hips but scared her nevertheless. She screamed with horror and held onto him with her dear life. 

 He pulled the girl against him. “Everything is ok. You are safe with me. I won’t let you get any deeper, cariño.” She caught her breathing back and opened her eyes. 

 “Are you scared of the sea? You should have told me.” Lustful face was washed from his face and replaced with concern. “I didn’t want to ruin your plans. Already ruined your shirt with some mascara.” He chuckled. “This is the least of my problems.” 

 Her hands were still holding tight around his neck. Eyes roaming to his lips. They looked so kissable at this distance. 

 “Actually I have to confess something.” “Go on.” She looked away. “I don’t know how to swim.”

He took her chin into his hand and made her face him. “Then I can teach you. Maybe the sea isn't the best place to start but some other day. For example a pool. How does that sound?” She nodded. “The pool it is then. But right now we can just stand here and feel the warm water. If that’s fine with you.” Once again she nodded. 

 They stayed like this for a few more seconds when she realized their position. Her hands let go of his neck. He cleared his voice. The hands slid away quickly. 

 “You’ve helped me out a lot today. Would you like to grab some lunch together?” She had tried herself with his towel and was putting clothes back on. Carlos tried himself with the same towel. It felt a little erotic to know that just minutes ago the fabric ran against her smooth skin. 

 “Sure. I can take us to somewhere nice.” His meaning of nice ment somewhere fancy at first but the woman didn’t seem to know who he was and he’d love to keep it that way for as long as he can.  “That would be smart. I only ever visited a few places where they mostly served coffee and sweets.”  

 As they were both dressed, they took a turn back to the town. Sun was burning extra bright and finding a shelter with a cooler seemed mandatory. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” She turned around, looking at him. “Uh, to tell you the truth, not really. I mean, I can afford one more night at the hotel but that’s it. And my booked flight isn’t until next week.” 

 She had forgotten all about her ex and her situation. But the weight was back on her shoulders. He saw the change on her face and regretted immediately what he had asked. “If you’d like, you could stay at my place until your flight back home. Not that I have a big apartment here but some arrangements could be done.” First it sounded a little too good and creepy to her. She had known Carlos for only… a few hours. In reality it felt much longer. And she didn’t have a plan B. Maybe he isn’t trying to kidnap her for her organs and genuinely felt sorry for her. 

 “If I did take your offer, what would you like back? There are no free lunches as they say.” She was shivering. Carlos thought for a minute. He just didn’t want her to go just yet. Moments where someone didn’t know him were rare. She as a person felt rare. “You come to me to the pool to learn how to swim.” First thing that came to his mind. She laughed. “That's beneficial to me. What about you? I could do your laundry for that time period or run errands.” 

 Carlos didn’t need those things to be taken care of. He did enjoy doing them himself after a long season. Just something a normal human can do. “I guess you could help out but I do enjoy doing these things myself.” 

 As she was throwing ideas at him and Carlos tried to decline, they had reached main streets. He had a particular smaller business in his mind where to take her. “Right this way. Even Though it’s out of the main street, the food is delicious.” 

 He stopped in front of a big old door that didn’t have any signs near it. “That? Are you sure? I don’t see any-” she was saying before he opened the door. “Yes, ladies first.” Carlos smirked as she stepped in. The interior was mind blowing. High ceilings, huge windows with a view to the sea. You couldn’t really see it all from the grand entry. 

 “Table for two please.” said Carlos and the waitress took them to one next to a window. Carlos held her chair like a gentelman. “I’ll be right back with your menus. Would you like something to drink?” She sounded sweet but held back for some reason. “Some water with lemon. Is that fine with you?” Carlos was asking that from his companion. “Of course.” Waitress nodded and went away. 

 “This place looks way too fancy. Look at the wallpaper they have. This is either Jane Claytons or I don’t know…” Carlos was a little shocked. He had a wide grin. “How or why do you know about wallpapers?” He was genuinely interested. “I'm a little into interior design and just like to know about history and products.”  Carlos put his elbows on the tabbed and held his head in his hands. 

 She told him more about her interests and job back in the other country. He would occasionally ask one or two things about her work. Finally the waitress came with water and menus. She told them about today's dishes and left. 

 The food was not on the cheaper side and made her anxious. How could she say no if she had asked him to choose the restaurant. She’ll live off noodles for the next few months. Nothing new really. 

 She had chosen the cheapest dish from the menu. Carlos had noticed that.“You know, if you’re concerned about the food then don’t be. It’s on me. Choose whatever you like.” She shook her head. “Mkm, no way. You have helped a lot today. The food is on me.” This went on back and forth til their food arrived. Carlos had convinced her in some circumstance–she would pay for the ice cream after lunch. 

“I haven’t allowed myself a cheat day in a while. Thank you for the ice cream.” He was one of those who bite his ice cream instead of licking. She was licking it. While she did that Carlos would glimpse looks. They were walking without a destination. Mostly him showing her around the town while talking about facts about thing or two. ---

Part 2

[moodymelanist]

dumb love (i love being stupid)

happy day 2 of @nessianweek everyone! I've had so much fun writing wlw!nessian that i just HAD to flip it around and do mlm!nessian too. hope you all enjoy <3 title from casual by chappell roan!

Summary: Five times Cassian didn’t realize he had a boyfriend, plus one time he finally got it. 

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: Smut at the end!

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵✵ Cassian 

1.

Cassian knew he’d put off doing his basic science requirement until the last minute, but it didn’t quite hit him just how long he’d put it off until he was standing in a biology lab surrounded by baby-faced freshmen. 

“Welcome to bio lab,” their TA greeted them at the top of the hour, taking the time to send everyone reassuring smiles. “Today we’re going to go over the syllabus, some really important safety rules, and, most importantly, how to succeed in this class. But first: assigned seating!”

Most of the assorted freshmen looked relieved at not having to figure out where to sit, but Cassian held back a groan. He was usually pretty good about finding partners or groups who were willing to do a little more of the work around his hectic club soccer schedule, but having assigned seats — and likely partners — meant he’d probably have to suck it up and put in a little more work than usual. That would be fine, though; he just needed to pass this class to graduate, and then next semester he could really let the senioritis kick in. 

There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason behind how their seats and resulting lab partners were assigned, but Cassian had a sneaking suspicion their TA had paired him up with the only other senior in the room. Cassian had seen the eldest Archeron here or there over the years, mostly because he was pretty tight with the Vanserra brothers and Azriel was dating one of them, but he’d never been this up close and personal with the guy. 

Until now, anyway. The eldest Archeron was tall, only a few inches shorter than Cassian himself; his golden brown hair was parted to the side and pushed back from his face to reveal a pair of gray-blue eyes framed with pretty, bronze lashes. He was dressed comfortably in a white shirt and jeans, though Cassian had a sneaking suspicion those two items alone cost more than his rent, let alone the backpack that just screamed quiet luxury.

“Hey, man,” Cassian said once they were seated, doing his best not to look like he was staring. Which he absolutely wasn’t, but who could blame him? The guy had a jawline sharp enough to cut something, and those eyes were even icier up close. “I’m Cassian.”

“Earnest Nathaniel,” came the other man’s reply. He smelled really good, and it was a miracle Cassian managed to catch his full name with the way he was fighting leaning in closer to take a whiff.

“That’s kind of a mouthful,” Cassian replied jokingly. “Your parents must’ve had it out for you, huh?”

Earnest Nathaniel stared at Cassian for several long seconds, clearly unimpressed with Cassian’s joke. “Whatever nickname you’re about to come up with, I’m not interested in hearing it.”

“Whatever you say, Nes,” Cassian fired back, the nickname rolling off his tongue like it belonged there. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“EN?”

“Jesus Christ, no.”

“Nessie?”

“Do I look like the Loch Ness monster to you?”

“Didn’t peg you for a Twilight fan.”

“Didn’t peg you as such an idiot.”

“Okay, Nesbit.”

“How are these getting worse?”

“Nesseroni? Yes? No?”

“Definite no.”

“Mhmm… think I’ll stick with my first choice, then,” Cassian said with a victorious grin. “Nes.”

Whatever Nes was about to say back was cut short by their TA calling their class back to order, and Cassian sent the other man a pleased little smirk before trying his best to pay attention. He’d gone through enough sylly weeks to know the drill, but if it had the added bonus of getting under his new lab partner’s skin, then he was going to be the most model student possible.  

Still, Cassian must not have fucked up as badly as he thought he did, because Earnest Nathaniel — Nes, in Cassian’s mind — stiffly asked Cassian to grab coffee with him after class. It turned into a bit of a standing thing on Tuesdays and Thursdays, mostly to work through the bulk of their weekly lab reports, but they talked about plenty of other things too. Cassian was on the receiving end of a lot of witty one-liners, but he also learned about Nes’ sisters, about the books he liked to read, and even about the other man’s law school applications. 

Those were Cassian’s favorite coffee days, but he couldn’t exactly put his finger on why. Maybe he just liked making a new friend, or maybe it was just Nes himself. 

✵✵✵✵✵✵

2.

A week or two into October, Cassian caught a nasty cold one weekend and couldn’t shake it off by the time Tuesday's lab rolled around. He’d at least been able to email his professors and TAs to let them know he probably wouldn’t be in class this week, but he’d completely forgotten to give Nes a heads up before lab started. 

They’d exchanged numbers after that first day, and they texted here and there about anything from class to memes Cassian thought Nes would like to random soccer facts that Nes thought Cassian would care about. Still, Cassian wasn’t expecting Nes to be texting him from class when the guy was normally such a stickler for following the rules, so when his phone buzzed, he couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised at the name on his screen when he finally discovered his phone half-buried beneath his comforter. 

Nes Archeron, 11:12 AM

????

Where are you?

Cassian didn’t have the energy to say much, and he was a little woozy from the strength of the medicine he’d taken about twenty minutes ago. He somehow managed to take a picture of him surrounded by tissues and Tylenol and typed out a short reply that he thought conveyed his predicament well enough.  

Cassian Hernández, 11:15 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image]

send help im dying

Cassian didn’t stay awake long enough to see if Nes had replied, letting the cold medicine pull him into an easy nap instead. He woke up about an hour and a half later to the sound of someone knocking on his bedroom door, and he was still too sleepy to come up with a proper sentence. “Huh?”

Azriel opened the door and poked his head around the corner, his nose wrinkling at the unpleasant sight of a sick roommate. “Your boyfriend’s here with some soup and more medicine.”

“Ha, ha,” Cassian said, sniffling very attractively. Not that it mattered; it was just Azriel, and they’d been friends for far too long for Cassian to care about what he thought. “You’re hilarious.”

“I wasn’t joking,” Azriel said back with a roll of his eyes. He opened the door fully to reveal Nes standing there with a steaming thermos in one hand and a grocery bag filled with cold medicine in the other. Once Cassian had fully processed that this was happening and Nes was very much standing outside his bedroom, Azriel turned back to Nes and said, “Good luck with him. He’s even dumber than usual right now.”

“Trust me, I’m aware,” Nes replied dryly. They exchanged a knowing glance before Azriel huffed a laugh and left them to it, disappearing down the hallway back to his own room. “You doing okay, Cassian?”

Cassian suddenly and intensely regretted not cleaning up the massive pile of tissues surrounding him. He probably didn’t smell great, either, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d brushed his teeth. So much for it not mattering. “I feel like shit.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” Nes responded, though his tone seemed a little more sympathetic than usual. “I didn’t know what you had on hand, so I brought you some stuff. Hope that’s cool.”

“Very cool,” Cassian agreed. It was a really thoughtful thing to do, and something went a little soft and gooey and a little sad inside Cassian at the realization that he probably hadn’t been taken care of like this since he was in high school. Mostly soft and gooey, though, so he’d take it for the kind gesture that it was and leave the rest to examine probably… never. “Thanks, Nes.”

“You’re welcome,” Nes answered simply, the barest hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks. 

Instead of trying to clear Cassian’s bed, Nes had the much smarter idea of pulling over the chair from Cassian’s desk and sitting there. He put down the thermos — which smelled like chicken noodle soup, now that it was close enough for Cassian’s nose to pick up on it — and spread out his cold medicine haul across one of Cassian’s end tables. 

“What have you taken today?” Nes asked expectantly. 

Cassian wasn’t totally sure what time he’d taken his meds this morning, and he told the other man as much. “Uh…”

“Idiot,” Nes muttered, though it sounded fond. “Just try to eat a little something, and you can take some more meds when you wake up.”

Nes helped Cassian sit up so he could get a little something in his stomach, his touch firm against Cassian’s back as he shifted up on the bed. Cassian didn’t totally understand why he could still feel Nes’ hands on him long after the other man had let go, but he wasn’t going to question it. It had felt nice, and the soup was even nicer, warm and seasoned surprisingly well despite its source. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” Nes said haughtily, though he couldn’t keep up the act for very long. “I, uh… one of my sisters helped. Lucky for you, Elain actually knows what she’s doing.”

“Knew it,” Cassian said back. He managed a smirk before his nose started running again, and then Nes was taking the thermos out of his hands, offering him a clean tissue, and helping him lie back down. He didn’t even blink before holding up the trash can so Cassian could weakly toss the used tissue inside it.

“You need some more rest,” Nes informed him matter-of-factly. He put down the trash can and left it close enough to Cassian’s bed that he could throw more tissues inside it as needed. “I’ll text you when you should take some more medicine.”

“Okay,” Cassian agreed, his eyes half-closed already. He hated being sick and how much it took out of him, but it didn’t seem so bad with Nes here taking care of him for a little while. “Stay until I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, okay,” Nes promised. His voice had gone strangely soft but Cassian decided not to question it, much more focused on how good his pillow felt against his cheek. 

Before Cassian drifted off to sleep, he swore he felt Nes’ cool fingers gently pushing his hair back from his face. What a dedicated friend, Cassian thought before he was tugged completely under. 

✵✵✵✵✵✵

3.

Cassian made a full recovery by the end of that week, just in time to start prepping for fall midterms. However, the week after they’d taken their bio lecture exam, everything went to shit for several days, and Cassian had no reason why. 

He and Nes had gone for their usual post-lab coffee, and the two of them had been standing outside the library when a certain blonde friend decided to make an appearance. 

“Cassian!” 

Cassian turned from where he was talking with Nes to see Mor barreling up the walkway towards him, his arms automatically coming up to catch her as she leapt into his arms. “Hey, Mor.”

“Hey yourself,” Mor said back, a little out of breath from her short sprint. She squeezed Cassian tight before jumping out of his hold. “Where’ve you been, stranger?”

“Semester’s been kicking my ass, you know how it is,” Cassian replied apologetically. Mor had been trying to corner him for a catch-up lunch for weeks now, and while he hadn’t been intentionally avoiding her, things had just been much busier than he’d expected in his final year of college. “You know I wouldn’t ignore you on purpose.”

“Of course not, silly,” Mor told him with a little laugh. She put her hand on Cassian’s arm before adding, “You know there’d be hell to pay. I have you too well-trained.”

“Cassian,” Nes suddenly interjected before Cassian could respond, his voice as icy as his eyes. Cassian turned to see a muscle in the other man’s jaw working overtime as he stared Mor down. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your… friend?”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Cassian said sheepishly. Jesus fuck, where were his manners? “Nes, this is my friend Mor. Mor, this is Nes. We’re lab partners this semester.”

“It’s Earnest Nathaniel, actually,” Nes corrected coldly. His eyes zeroed in on where Mor’s hand was still on Cassian’s arm, and Cassian jumped out of her grip like he’d been burned. “I don’t do nicknames.”

“I’m Morrigan, then, if we’re being formal,” Mor replied with a roll of her eyes. Cassian didn’t know why things were suddenly so tense, but he’d do anything to get that blank look off of Nes’ face. “Aren’t you friends with Eris?”

“Since middle school,” Nes answered shortly. Cassian had to blink back his surprise; normally Nes was always ready to talk about how he and Eris had gone from bonding over being the two oldest sons in their respective families to being roommates all four years. He didn’t know what had changed now, but it left him feeling uneasy all the same. 

“Then we’ve definitely met before,” Mor responded. Cassian remembered that she and Eris had had a brief fling their sophomore year before Eris abruptly realized he was gay and had started dating Azriel not too long after. “We’ve probably seen each other around, at least.”

“I don’t recall,” Nes told her stiffly. He made a big show of checking his phone before sliding it back into his pocket and shouldering his backpack. “I have to go, I’m running late for something. Have fun with your friend.”

“See you… around,” Cassian finished lamley, watching helplessly as Nes’ long legs carried him halfway across the quad in record time. He turned back to Mor with a sigh. “I don’t know why he’s being like that.”

Mor stared at Cassian like he was the biggest idiot in the world for several long moments, eventually throwing her hands up with a loud scoff. “Az was right. You’re actually such a dumbass.”

“What?” Cassian said, totally thrown by Mor’s response. She just shook her head at him before she took off too, leaving him standing by himself wondering what, exactly, he’d done to piss off not one, but two people in such record time. “Thanks for the help! Not!”

Cassian still didn’t understand just what he’d done to make Nes so upset, but by the time Tuesday’s lab rolled around, he was determined to make things right. Nes hadn’t answered his texts all weekend, but after Cassian had reposted one of Mor’s Instagram stories from Friday night happy hour with her and her girlfriend, Nes was suddenly much happier to see him. 

Weird.  

✵✵✵✵✵✵

4.

October eventually turned into November, and Cassian found himself suddenly getting ready to play his last home club soccer game. It wasn’t nearly as intense as playing varsity, but he’d enjoyed having an outlet for all his restless energy over the years, and even more so getting to know the rest of the guys on the team. 

Cassian had mentioned his final home game in passing to Nes during one of their post-class coffee hangouts, but he certainly hadn’t expected to find him sitting in the bleachers on a rainy, miserable Saturday in early November. Usually the only other people at their games were close friends and family members, so it was a nice surprise to see Nes up there; none of Cassian’s other friends had been able to make it for various reasons, so he’d fully been expecting to be celebrated later. Even more surprising was that Nes wasn’t alone – Cassian could spot two other women up there with him, and judging by that familiar golden-brown hair, it could only be Elain and Feyre. 

Cassian waved happily from the field, grinning when Feyre and Elain immediately and eagerlty returned his wave while Nes’ just held up his hand in greeting. He knew how much Nes hated getting up early, especially on a weekend, and the fact that he’d dragged himself out of bed for a 10 AM game made something go warm and fuzzy in Cassian’s chest just like that day where Nes had come over to check on him. 

He didn’t have time to investigate that right now, though. He had a game to win, especially with an audience as important as this one, so he channeled all that sudden nervous energy into being the best left back he could. 

After the game — which they’d won 2-0, much to Cassian’s glee — he walked over to where Nes and his two sisters were waiting for him, having walked down from the bleachers in the time it had taken Cassian to finish up with his teammates. He couldn’t stop smiling at the fact that Nes had dragged himself down here just to watch Cassian kick a ball around. 

“What are you doing here?” Cassian asked once they were all standing together, still pleasantly surprised ninety minutes later. “I thought you didn’t believe in waking up during single digit hours.”

Nes flushed, much to his sisters’ clear amusement. “It was your last home game. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you wake up that early since high school, Earnie,” one of Nes’ sisters teased. She looked the most like Nes, with her gray-blue eyes and high cheekbones, and she was bundled up in an oversized cream sweater and leggings. 

“How many times have I told you not to call me that, Feyre,” Nes grumbled, much to Cassian’s delight. 

“Not enough to make it stick,” Feyre retorted with a laugh. She turned back to Cassian and stuck her hand out expectantly, so he shook it and hoped she didn’t mind the grass and sweat on his hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Cassian. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Don’t scare him off, Feyre,” Elain, Nes’ other sister, responded. She was the shortest of the three Archerons, and had warm brown eyes that crinkled around the edges when she smiled up at Cassian. “It’s nice to finally meet you, though. I promise we’ve only heard good things!”

“That doesn’t sound like Nes at all,” Cassian replied, teasing Nes just a little bit. He liked that Nes only showed his softer side to the people he cared about, and he counted himself very lucky to have somehow made it into that small group. “Lord knows I’ve given him plenty of things to complain about.”

Feyre’s eyes lit up like Christmas had come early, and even Elain couldn’t stop her smile. Cassian wondered what had been so significant about his words, though his question was quickly answered.

“Shut up, Feyre,” Nes said before Feyre could get a chance to comment.

“If you buy me lunch, I won’t say anything,” Feyre said back, “even though it’s extremely tempting to comment on this new nickname.”

Nes sighed heavily, clearly unable to resist Feyre for too long. “Fine, but nothing too crazy. I’m not made of money.”

“We literally get the same allowance, so objectively—”

“Well then, objectively, you should be able to pay for your own food for once—”

“I’m sure you’re hungry, Cassian,” Elain turned to him with a smile, clearly used to tuning out her siblings’ bickering. “You should join us!”

“Oh,” Cassian answered, touched that they’d want to invite him to their family bonding time. “Sure, I could eat.”

“Great!” Elain clapped her hands together before reaching out and yanking Feyre to her side, her grip appearing surprisingly strong for someone so small. She nudged Nes in Cassian’s direction as she said, “You two, stop your bickering so we can go get some food. Lead the way, Earn.”

Once Cassian got his gear together and changed out of his cleats, the four of them made their way to one of the fast casual places right outside of campus. Feyre and Elain were fun to hang out with, even if they asked a lot of strangely personal questions, but it was more than worth it for all the nuggets of information they gave him about Nes. It was more than a nice way to spend the rest of his afternoon, even more so when Nes paid for everyone’s food, but Cassian knew he’d pay the other man back in coffee and pastries after lab next week. 

Cassian eventually got up to use the bathroom, and as he made his way back to their table, he overheard the Archerons talking amongst themselves. 

“I really like this one, Earn,” Cassian heard Elain say. He slowed his steps to give them time for a sibling moment if they needed it, but he was strangely curious what else they’d say about him. Assuming they were talking about him, anyway. “He seems like a really good guy.”

“Yeah,” Nes replied, his voice strangely soft again. “Me too.”

Cassian wasn’t sure why hearing that put a smile on his face for the rest of the day, but he’d take it. He hadn’t known he was facing some kind of sibling friend test, but he was glad all the same that he’d passed.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

5.

The weekend before everyone went home for Thanksgiving break, Cassian got invited to an end of the semester party that one of the guys on the football team was throwing. Most of his other friends were going, so it was bound to be at least a fun enough time between that and the ridiculous amounts of alcohol that tended to be at these kinds of things. 

Cassian of course invited Nes, pleasantly surprised when the other man said he’d be there. Nes didn’t exactly strike Cassian as the party type, but maybe he wanted to let loose after a long semester just like everybody else. 

“Whose party is it, anyway?” Nes asked as they waited for their Uber. Nes had a car, but they both knew the odds of them both staying sober were slim to none, so he’d parked in the garage across from Cassian’s building so they could ride to the party together. Azriel and Eris were also going to this party, so Cassian figured Nes would maybe catch a ride back with Eris when everything was said and done and would come grab his car another time.

Cassian laughed, his breath fogging up in front of him in the brisk November air. “Now you’re asking?”

“Feyre and Elain said they might come,” Nes replied, rolling his eyes. He looked really good in a pair of dark jeans and the fur-lined leather jacket he’d stolen from Cassian’s closet, and Cassian had a hard time taking his eyes off him. “I can’t just send them in without any information.”

“Aww,” Cassian cooed. “What a good older brother.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Nes shot back without much venom. “Someone has to keep an eye on them.”

Cassian had learned just how shitty the Archeron parents were over the course of getting to know Nes, so he didn’t dare make another joke, not about that. Instead, he double-checked his group text with Rhys and Azriel for the information Nes had asked for in the first place. “Jurian’s throwing it. I think he’s one of Lucien’s friends?”

“Jurian’s alright,” Nes responded. He pulled out his phone and typed out a few quick texts before putting his hands back in his pockets, and Cassian had to stifle the insane urge to slide his hands into those pockets, too. “Besides, even if he weren’t, Lucien will help me keep an eye on them.”

“Don’t forget to have some fun for yourself, too,” Cassian told him. Nes always took himself so seriously that Cassian was almost hoping to see him let a little loose tonight, for once. 

“Don’t worry,” Nes said just as their Uber arrived. He held Cassian’s gaze for a few charged moments in which Cassian nearly forgot how to breathe. “I plan to.”

—

About an hour and a half into the party, Cassian could safely say they were both having a good time. Feyre and Elain had spent most of their time chatting with Rhys and Lucien respectively, so Nes felt comfortable enough leaving his sisters with them that he was actually drinking and laughing and generally letting loose the exact way Cassian had hoped he would. 

Cassian had a nice buzz going himself, even more so after he’d done the rounds and said hey to a lot of his own friends. He was playing some beer pong with Tarquin, one of his friends on the swim team, against Tarquin’s cousins Varian and Cresseida, and even though they were losing spectacularly he didn’t mind not one bit. Nes was still close by enough that Cassian could keep an eye on him, unable to look away as Nes laughed at something Eris had said. 

“It’s your turn, Cassian,” Tarquin pulled him back to the game, yelling to be heard properly over the music. Cassian took the ball and missed his first throw but sank his second easily, and he high-fived Tarquin as Cresseida jokingly flipped them off from across the table. “Nice!”

Their luck didn’t hold for long, however. Varian and Cresseida got their heads in the game and absolutely destroyed Cassian and Tarquin, who split the cups in half before downing one cup after the other. 

Whoever had decided to use tequila instead of beer deserved to have a perpetually warm pillow or something, Cassian thought as he finished his half of the cups. Even as big as he was, he knew drinking that much tequila in such a short time frame was only asking for trouble, so he just hoped the rest of the night would be worth it if he ended up throwing up tonight. 

Cassian really hoped he didn’t throw up tonight. He didn’t want Nes to see him like that, even though he’d definitely already seen Cassian all gross and sick earlier in the semester. Something about Nes just made Cassian want to be on his best behavior, and he was once again hoping that whatever he did would be enough to impress Nes’ high standards. 

Speaking of Nes, where had he even gone? Cassian looked around the room for almost a minute until he spotted the right head of golden-brown hair, and then he was making his way through the crowd to where Nes was still talking to Eris. He and Azriel had shown up to the party at some point during beer pong, both of them covered in hickies and Azriel’s hair way too mussed to be natural bedhead.

At the moment, though, Azriel wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and even though they were all friends, something about watching Nes laugh yet again at something Eris said made Cassian want to haul Nes away and keep him all to himself. 

Nes was still chuckling once Cassian came close enough to interrupt whatever conversation was happening, and Cassian was willing to do whatever it took to get that attention directed at him instead of Eris. 

“Heeeeey, guys,” Cassian said, casually throwing his arm around Nes’ shoulders like it was a thing they did all the time. It should be a thing they did all the time; Nes was the perfect height for Cassian to do that and a whole lot of other things that Cassian hadn’t considered until just now. “What’s going on?”

Eris looked like he wanted to laugh, but he swallowed it down. “Hey, Cassian. You having fun?”

“Yup,” Cassian answered, popping the p. “Soooo much fun.”

“You okay, Cassian?” Nes asked. He shifted his drink to his right hand so the left one could snake around Cassian’s waist, and wow was that a nice feeling. Almost as nice as hearing his name come out of Nes’ perfect mouth. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I lost beer pong,” Cassian replied, fighting the urge to turn and press his face into Nes’ hair. It was always shiny and perfectly styled and just long enough that Cassian would be able to run his fingers through it if he could, but he knew Nes spent way too much on his haircuts for that to be a reality. “Well, really it was tequila pong. They should rename it.”

“Or maybe you should be better at the game,” Nes told him, though Cassian could tell there wasn’t any real venom behind it. 

“Maybe you can be my teammate next time,” Cassian responded with a pleased little grin. What an excellent suggestion his brain had come up with. 

Nes just snorted. “Not really my thing.”

“We’ll just find something that is, then,” Cassian promised. Whatever it took to spend more time in Nes’ arms, he’d do it. “Pinky promise.”

“What are you, five?” Nes retorted, though he finished the rest of his drink and put the cup down somewhere just so he could brush his fingers against the hand Cassian had slung across his shoulders. Cassian seized the opportunity and grabbed hold of Nes’ hand before he could move too far away, interlacing their fingers and giving them a fond little squeeze. 

“Oh, thank God,” Eris said suddenly. Cassian looked away from Nes and his pretty, flushed cheeks to see that Azriel had returned to his boyfriend’s side. “They’re being disgusting.”

“Don’t be homophobic,” Nes said back with a roll of his eyes. 

“It’s PEMDAS, it cancels out,” Azriel replied with a sly little grin. That grin disappeared as he took a good, long look at Cassian, who tried not to squirm under the intense scrutiny. “Cassian, how drunk are you?”

“How drunk are you, Az?” Cassian fired back. 

Azriel rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Nes. “You should probably take him home soon. If he drinks any more he’s going to start throwing up, and nobody wants to see that.”

“Nobody’s going to throw up,” Cassian responded, frowning. He was not going to do that, especially in front of Nes. “I’m fine.”

“Sure, Cassian,” Azriel placated him. He turned back to Nes and added, “I’m going back with Eris after this, so… knock yourselves out, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Nes answered dryly. He squeezed Cassian’s hand one last time before letting go, ignoring Cassian’s pout as he pulled his phone out and started to call an Uber. “It’s time to take you home, Cassian.”

“But I don’t wanna go home yet,” Cassian said, still pouting. “Nessssss.”

“Too bad,” Nes said back. Cassian didn’t need to be looking at him to know the other man was rolling his eyes, though he liked watching Nes do it anyway. “Let’s start saying bye to your friends.”

Nes made quick work of guiding Cassian to the door while still managing to exchange goodbyes with everyone who mattered. Their driver was already waiting when they finally made it outside, and Cassian didn’t even mind sitting in the middle seat if it meant staying close to Nes. Cassian spent most of the Uber home leaning on Nes’ shoulder, thoroughly enjoying the way their thighs were pressed together in the backseat. When they got out of the car, Cassian also enjoyed the very firm grip that Nes kept on him as they walked.

Tonight had really been amazing.

“Where are your keys?” Nes asked as he corralled Cassian toward his building. Cassian mumbled out something unintelligent in response, more than ready to crash in his bed, and Nes sighed heavily. “Cassian, come on, it’s fucking freezing and you’re heavy as hell.”

“Left pocket,” Cassian eventually told him. He giggled as Nes shoved his hand in said left pocket and came up empty-handed. “No. My other left.”

“You’re even dumber when you’re drunk,” Nes grumbled, sticking his hand in Cassian’s right pocket and finally coming up with the keys. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Nes used Cassian’s key fob to get into the building and onto the elevator, apparently remembering the way well enough that he didn’t bother to ask Cassian for his floor. Cassian was far too busy trying to remain upright, finally throwing caution to the wind and slumping fully against Nes. “Mhmm. You’re warm.”

“You’re heavy,” Nes said, though he didn’t sound mad about it. He actually released a huff of laughter that tickled the side of Cassian’s ear before poking at Cassian a few times to get him moving. “Come on, let’s get you ready for bed.”

They eventually made their way down the hallway, Nes using Cassian’s keys to open the door to his and Azriel’s apartment. They managed to make it to Cassian’s room without bumping into anything despite not turning on any of the lights, though Nes turned on the lamp on Cassian’s desk so they had a little bit of light in the bedroom. While Nes busied himself with taking off his borrowed jacket, Cassian sat on the edge of the bed and fell backwards so he was comfortable.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep,” Nes said sharply once he noticed Cassian was laying on the bed. “You’re not going to sleep in all that. You’ll overheat in the middle of the night.”

“Says you,” Cassian said back, closing his eyes. Nes loudly snapped his fingers right in front of Cassian’s face, and Cassian forced his eyes back open just so he could roll them, hard. “Ugh. Whatever, Dad.”

Despite Cassian’s grumbling, he didn’t put up too much of a fight at Nes making him kick off his shoes and take off his jacket. He didn’t even mind taking off his shirt, since that’s usually how he slept anyway, but when it came time for Nes to coax him out of his pants, suddenly all bets were off. 

“Come on, Cassian,” Nes said, exasperated. He’d gotten Cassian to sit up while his other clothes had come off, and he was being really patient as he tried to unfasten Cassian’s jeans and take them off. “You can’t go to sleep in jeans.”

“No jeans for everyone,” Cassian said back with a loud laugh. He knew he was drunk and being more than a little annoying, but Nes certainly didn’t seem to mind as Cassian fumbled with the buttons on the other man’s jeans. “It’s only fair.”

“It’s not about fair, it’s about— hey!” Nes yelped as Cassian got the bright idea of suddenly yanking him forward. They overbalanced and Nes landed awkwardly on top of Cassian, who had developed a serious case of the giggles at the shocked expression on the other man’s face. “Really, Cassian?”

“Oh man,” Cassian replied, still giggling, “the look on your face.”

“Ha, ha,” Nes deadpanned. “Very funny.”

Cassian’s giggles abruptly stopped as he realized just how close he and Nes suddenly were. Cassian didn’t think they’d ever been so close before, and he found himself liking it, probably more than he should considering Nes was just trying to be a good friend and help him get ready for bed. It didn’t stop him from finally giving into the urge he’d been shoving down all night to bury his face into the side of Nes’ neck.

“Mhmmm,” Cassian said, breathing in the smell of Nes’ cologne and whatever fancy pomade he liked to use on his hair. Even underneath the smell of weed and alcohol and sweat from the party, he still smelled so goddamn good. “You smell good.”

“Thank you,” Nes said back, his voice a little strained. “Can I get up now?”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Cassian said.

Cassian shifted underneath Nes, ready to sit them both up so they could stop fucking around and go to sleep, but it seemed the universe had other plans. As Cassian tried to sit up, he was completely unprepared for the hot stab of arousal that hit him as he realized their dicks were pressed together, and that it felt good. 

Really good.

“Fuck,” Cassian said, his dick already half-hard. He was torn between apologizing for making things weird and shifting under Nes again, but he didn’t know what to say to make either thing happen. He just laid there, his heart pounding out of his chest as he waited to see what Nes would do.  

Nes had frozen too, his full, pink lips parted in surprise. He stared down at Cassian for a few moments without saying a word, and Cassian braced himself for the worst. 

But then Nes rolled his hips against Cassian’s, thrusting against him with intention, and any and all worries Cassian had abruptly disappeared with the feeling of Nes’ very hard dick grinding against his. “Oh, fuck, you feel good.”

“Yeah?” Cassian breathed. Now that he wasn’t worried about Nes’ reaction, all that nervous energy had been replaced with pure hunger. He’d never been with another guy before, but that didn’t change the way he wanted to know what Nes looked like when he came.

“I’ve been thinking about this all fucking semester,” Nes continued, pausing briefly to yank off his shirt and kick his jeans off. Cassian could only gape at the sheer amount of skin suddenly on display, interrupted only by the dark blue boxers Nes was still wearing. “You have any lube?”

Cassian flushed as he realized why they might need that. “Um. I. No?”

“That’s fine,” Nes answered, yanking off Cassian’s jeans before climbing back on top of Cassian. “Take out your dick.”

Cassian had never moved faster in his life. He scrambled to pull his dick out through the hole in the front of his boxers, hissing a little as he touched himself. He was so hard it almost hurt, and he nearly stopped breathing as Nes reached down and wrapped his hand around Cassian’s dick.

“Oh my God,” Cassian breathed, though he was pretty sure it had come out more like a whimper. He’d earned plenty of notches on his bedpost over the years, but somehow this was the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. 

And that was before Nes started to actually move his hand. Cassian groaned when Nes began to slowly stroke him, his cock leaking like a faucet the entire time, and he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting upwards into Nes’ firm grip. “Nes, come on, please.”

Nes smirked down at Cassian for a few moments before deciding to take pity on him. He sped up a little bit, just enough to reach a nice, steady pace, and Cassian couldn’t help making helpless little noises every time Nes flicked his wrist upwards. After a few minutes of that, Nes finally pulled out his own cock and worked himself over a few times, his eyes fluttering shut at how good it must have felt, and then he was reaching for Cassian’s hand and placing it on his cock.

Cassian had thought things were intense before, but this was an entirely new level. 

“Jesus,” Cassian muttered, all of this going straight to his own dick. He’d never touched another cock before, but it wasn’t so different from touching his own. The angle and the way Nes’ cock felt in his hand were different, yeah, but that was a very welcome change. Nes wasn’t as thick as Cassian, but he certainly made up for it with the inch or two he had extra.

Once Nes had decided Cassian had done enough staring, he closed his hand around Cassian’s and started to show Cassian what he liked. Cassian was mesmerized by the slow, slick slide of their hands moving together over Nes’ admittedly very nice cock; he hadn’t stared openly at very many dicks in his life, but Cassian was more than happy to look at this one. He was even happier to look at the man it was attached to, doing his best to commit the look on Nes’ face to memory for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure of just yet.

“Yeah, just like that,” Nes groaned, his voice low. He let go of Cassian’s hand, apparently trusting him to keep the rhythm they’d set together, and reached for Cassian’s dick again. “Yeah, fuck, Cassian, that’s it.”

Cassian moaned as Nes started stroking Cassian’s dick a little faster than he’d done before, the praise and the perfect friction against Cassian’s dick absolutely doing it for him. They were both hot and slick under the other’s hand, and Cassian swore as Nes turned his focus to the very tip of Cassian’s dick. “Shit, don’t stop.”

Of course, Nes picked that exact moment to let go. “Relax, Cassian. I have a better idea.”

“It better be— oh,” Cassian cut himself off with a shocked gasp as Nes knocked Cassian’s hand out of the way so he could hold both of their cocks together in one hand. “Oh, God.”

“That’s what I thought,” Nes replied smugly. He shifted so their cocks were better lined up, and Cassian saw stars as Nes started to stroke both of their cocks together. Everything was slippery and hot and perfect, especially once they fell into rhythm that guaranteed the most friction between them, Cassian surging upward while Nes’ hips moved back, over and over and over again. Eventually Nes moved his hand out of the way so they were just grinding against each other, their cocks trapped between their bodies as Nes leaned down and completely covered Cassian’s body with his own, leaner frame. 

“Oh, fuck, don’t stop,” Cassian panted, reaching down to grab a handful of Nes’ ass so they could press together that much better. “So good, Jesus, you feel so good…”

Feeling Nes move against him was giving Cassian all sorts of ideas, mostly about what it would be like if he was fucking Cassian for real. Cassian’s rhythm turned frantic as he thought about Nes holding him down, fucking him hard, making him take it—

Cassian came with a choked off moan of Nes’ name, his come spilling across both of their cocks and setting Nes off. Nes drew it out for both of them until Cassian was squirming underneath him, not stopping the movement of his hips until Cassian was near tears and the pleasure-pain of it, and then the only sound in the room was both of their heavy breathing. 

Nes gracefully rolled off of Cassian and reached for a nearby towel, using it to wipe up their shared come as best he could before tossing it toward Cassian’s hamper. “Move over.”

Cassian didn’t even think to object, his head spinning between the tequila still in his system and the enormity of what had just happened between them. But Nes didn’t seem to be as affected; he just kicked off his wet underwear before delving under the covers. “Night, Cassian.”

Cassian guessed they would just talk about whatever that was in the morning, so he kicked off his own underwear, got under the covers, threw his arm around Nes’ waist, and let sleep take him. Nes’ feet were freezing where they were pressed between Cassian’s calves, but he didn’t mind that one bit. 

✵✵✵✵✵✵

+1

When Cassian woke up the next morning, he didn’t have the faintest clue how things were going to go. Last night had been beyond even his wildest fantasies, but the reality of Nes warming his bed was starting to creep in. 

Not that he had a lot of time to really ponder that, considering Nes was already awake and staring at him expectantly. They’d fallen asleep spooning, but they must have rolled apart during the night given Nes was now facing Cassian. 

Their legs were still tangled together, though. Maybe that counted for something.  

“Hey,” Cassian said hesitantly. He had a solid headache from last night, but he knew even that couldn’t stop this conversation from happening. “Um. Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Nes replied, his voice a little raspier and deeper than usual. It went straight to Cassian’s dick, which was not helping his creeping panic at the discussion they were about to have, though it was certainly another thing to add to his mental list of things Nes did that were incredibly attractive. 

He wasn’t even freaked out at his newfound bisexuality — he’d always thought of himself as open to experimenting, so it was nice to know that hadn’t just been a passing fantasy — it was more that he didn’t want to risk his relationship with Nes. Cassian didn’t know what he’d do without their coffee hangouts, or their text threads, or the way Nes looked at him like he was the biggest idiot on campus. 

“What are we doing?” Cassian asked hesitantly, knowing the only way forward was through. He just had to rip the band-aid off, and if that meant their friendship was done, he’d be okay. Eventually. “Are we… together now?”

“We’ve been together,” Nes said, an adorable frown appearing on his pretty face. Cassian wanted to smooth it out with his fingers. “What do you mean, what are we doing?”

“We’ve been together?” Cassian repeated. He was so, so confused, but also a not-insignificant part of him was incredibly relieved that Nes wasn’t going anywhere. “Since… when?”

“You can’t be serious,” Nes replied. When he realized Cassian wasn’t kidding, his frown morphed into a deep scowl. No smoothing that one out with his fingers. “Oh my God. You are being serious.”

“What are you talking about right now?” Cassian asked, realizing just how out of his depth he was. Had he missed something from before they’d hooked up last night? “I’m not fucking around, Nes. What’s happening?”

“I asked you out after our first lab,” Nes answered slowly, like he was talking to a little kid. “I brought you soup when you were sick, I came to your soccer game — you met my sisters, for fuck’s sake. We’ve been dating all semester, Cassian.”

“Oh,” Cassian said, unable to come up with something more eloquent as a lot of pieces suddenly fell into place. He’d chalked all of that — and the way it made him feel — up to Nes just going above and beyond in their friendship, but clearly there was so much more than that going on here. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Nes said back, irritated. 

“Is that why you were so mad at Mor that day?” Cassian asked, a light bulb suddenly switching on in his mind. No wonder Mor had said he was being such a dumbass; he owed her a massive apology. “Holy shit, were you jealous?”

“She was touching you,” Nes hissed, that muscle in his jaw working overtime as he thought back to that fateful afternoon. “Of course I was fucking jealous, you idiot.”

“You don’t have to be jealous, Nes,” Cassian replied. He couldn’t stop smiling, and the more worked up Nes got, the wider his grin became. “Mor doesn’t even like men romantically!”

“How was I supposed to know that at the time, Cass,” Nes retorted. 

“This is such a ridiculous argument, sweetheart. Besides, you know how much I like you,” Cass said, immediately gratified at the look on Nes’ face. “Oh, wait, you like that nickname.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nes immediately denied. Cassian knew it was bullshit from the adorable pink flush spreading across the other man’s cheeks. “Shut up.”

“Nes. Nesseroni. Earn,” Cassian said, running through all of Nes’ other names just because he could. He could do a lot of things now, apparently. “Earnest Nathaniel.”

“Just Nes is fine,” Nes grumbled. “All those other names suck.”

“Sure they do. Hey, do you want to be my boyfriend?” Cassian asked before he could lose his nerve.  

Nes sighed, but Cassian saw right through that from the pleased tilt of his mouth. “Yes. Fine. Whatever.”

“Just whatever?” Cassian repeated with a grin. He shuffled forward until their chests were pressed together and rolled them so he was on top of Nes, very much enjoying this new development. 

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Nes replied. Cassian was more than happy to follow orders, leaning in and closing the distance between their lips. Both of them had morning breath and Nes had a little bit of stubble tickling Cassian’s upper lip, but it was easily one of the best kisses he’d ever experienced. Nes’ lips were softer than Cassian had been expecting, and they parted easily so Cassian could explore with his tongue. The slick slide of their tongues immediately reminded Cassian of the way their cocks slid together the night before, but he forced himself to stay focused. They’d have plenty of time for mind-blowing sex later, if Cassian had anything to say about it. 

“Was that… okay?” Nes asked quietly after a few more minutes of kissing, his gray-blue eyes furiously searching Cassian’s hazel ones for the slightest hint of any discomfort. 

“So much better than okay,” Cassian answered. He didn’t want Nes to have even a single doubt, so he leaned in and kissed Nes again, though they were both smiling a little too much for it to count as a real kiss. “You make me so fucking crazy.”

Nes hmmed and they lazily made out for a while, though it wasn’t with any intent beyond just exploring each other’s mouths. When they eventually broke apart, Cassian just had to laugh at how much of a dumbass he’d really been all these weeks. At Nes’ confused look, Cassian said, “Don’t get mad, but… this whole time I thought you were just really invested in being my friend.”

“You’re actually one of the most ridiculous people I’ve ever met,” Nes said, though the effect was lessened given how pink his lips were from all the kissing. He pushed at Cassian, who rolled over so they were on their sides facing each other again. “Jesus Christ, how were you so oblivious?”

“I just thought you really, really liked me,” Cassian said back, still laughing at himself. God, he was such an idiot. “Platonically, though.”

Nes stared at him incredulously for several long seconds. “Should I be concerned that you thought all the things we did were totally platonic?”

“I figured it out in the end!” Cassian protested. Sure, maybe it had taken a ridiculously long time to come to what felt like a very obvious conclusion, but Cassian wouldn’t change it. Not when he got to be the one waking up next to Nes exchanging good morning kisses. 

“Yeah, after I told you to take your dick out,” Nes responded. He released a long-suffering sigh that absolutely delighted Cassian to hear. “Like I said… you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Nah,” Cassian said, grinning. “I’m lucky you like me so much.”

His boyfriend — and wasn’t that a thought — didn’t deny it. Instead, Nes graced Cassian with a rare smile and said, “Yeah. Something like that.”

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust