#I still do here and there. but not as much as 10k words lol

[gracefireheart]

Sometimes I look back at my middle school days and ask myself "why the fuck did I try-hard so much during story-making writing assignments by writing at least 10k words???????"

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[spotsspeciall]

Factory meetings vol.2 - LN4

Lando Norris x fem!reader

summary: second part to: Factory meetings

notes: Better late than never lol. Sorry for the long wait! But I write everything on PC, and of course something happened to it so I had to get it fixed. And not only that, but when I sat down to finally write, I had major writer's block! But here it is!! FINALLY!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut (double smut bby), unprotected (wrap it before you tap it!) p in v, language, jealous!Lando, rough, fingering, soft!Lando (shit got real at the end lol)

word count: 10k

masterlist

It had been a week since it happened. And next week you were supposed to see him again, the Chinese grand prix coming up. You were freaking out to put it mildly. 

You had spent your off time at home, and you had shared what happened with Sophie. And as you suspected, she was shocked and a little grossed out. But you knew she would come around. And she did, so she asked you about all the details, when you told her, the two of you screamed and laughed together. Now the whole thing had turned into a sort of inside joke between you and Sophie. 

But as the race week was coming up, you got more and more nervous. What was he going to act like now? You really didn’t want to face him, knowing what the two of you had done together. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it, day and night, it was seared into your brain. (But you didn’t want to stop thinking about it either.)

Walking into the paddock on Friday, you did your usual routine, unbothered by anyone. You made your way into the garage, and walked over to the workbench against the wall, and started looking through your tools. 

You sorted through a few of them, getting them ready, knowing which ones you would need the most today. 

You enjoyed getting into the garage a little earlier than the others, having some quiet, alone time. And getting in the zone. Focusing on your job so much that you didn’t notice someone walked in.

Lando walked into the garage, knowing you would be here. He only came here for you. He walked up behind you and looked over your shoulder, watching you picking up the different small tools. 

You were so focused, but a familiar scent flooded your nose. He smelled so intoxicating, it literally made your knees weak. And the second it hit you, and you felt his hot breath at the back of your neck. You froze, and dropped the tool in your hand, making a clattering sound as it hit the table. 

“Sorry, did I scare you baby?” 

He was so close to your ear, and you could feel the smirk on his face.

You could not move, or utter a word. So Lando stepped to the side, and leaned his hip against the counter. 

“I’m sorry, I was just curious to see what you were doing” He smiled sweetly at you, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“I- uh, I was just sorting through my tools, getting the ones I need the most” You answered without thinking, still somewhat confused why he was being nice.

“Oh, ok” he nodded, looking towards the tools like he was thinking about something. 

You felt your jaw clench, and your eyes stared daggers at him. Your brain was connecting the dots. Of course he wasn’t being nice to you, he was looking for ways to annoy you, and tease you.

He reached his hand out to grab a small screwdriver to look closely at it. 

“What is this one for?” He looked up from the screwdriver to meet your eyes with a soft look.

He was not fooling you. Lando could see your whole demeanor had changed. And you could see the look in his eyes changed, for some reason he looked kind of worried? It knocked you off balance, and the look in your eyes softened. 

“Sorry if I'm bothering you, I was just curious” He looked dejected as he went to put the screwdriver back in its place.

Before you had any time to think, your hands flew out to grab onto his hand before he dropped the tool. 

“No, I’m sorry” “You’re not bothering me” Your anxious eyes met his, but he looked back down to where you were both holding the screwdriver, your eyes following after. 

You let his hand go and let out an awkward chuckle. Your eyes looking everywhere but him. But he stretched his hand out to give you the screwdriver. 

“So you want to tell me what it’s for?” His sweet smile had returned, as you were forced to meet his eyes again. 

“Uhm- yeah sure!” You grabbed the tool from his hand and turned on your heel to walk over to the front left tyre suspension. 

You crouched down so your face was closer to the suspension. You turned your head to look for Lando, not feeling him behind you. He was still standing at the counter, so you waved him over. A giggle escaping you when he finally got the hint and walked over. 

Soon enough he was beside you, crouched down just like you. So you pointed a finger to where the suspension was connected to the car. 

“You see those small screws there?”

He looked a bit closer before turning to you. “yeah”

“Yup” “that’s what this is for” you held the screwdriver up as you nodded. 

He let out a small chuckle. “You could’ve just told me that over there” He pointed towards where the both of you had been standing earlier. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to show you.” “It’s good to know your car” You smiled brightly at him.

“Yeah, I guess” he smiled back.

You were just looking into eachothers eyes, completely lost in eachother. Until someone spoke up.

“What are you guys doing?” You looked up to meet the eyes of Jonas, one of your fellow mechanics. 

“Oh- um, I was just showing him what this screwdriver is for” You held the tool up to show Jonas, trying to act as normal as possible, not like you had just been drowning in those gorgeous eyes. 

“Okayyy..” Jonas narrowed his eyes at the pair of you before walking further into the garage. 

You turned your head when you felt Lando stand up. Meeting his eyes when he towered over you, he stretched his hand out for you. It took you a moment to register before you put your hand in his, and he pulled you to your feet. 

Now standing in front of him, you saw his mouth open and close, like he was going to say something. Lando was at a loss for words staring at you. The soft look you had in your eyes as you just looked at him, he felt like no one had ever looked at him that way. But he finally managed to get some words out.

“I- I have to go” “see you later” He nodded, and left before you could even say anything.

When he came back to the garage, to get ready for FP1, you talked with him when he got into the car.

“Everything’s good?” you asked, making sure the car seemed good.

“Yeah” “perfect like always Y/N” He smiled up at you.

“good”... “great”... “alright” You said as you tried to find something else to focus on, walking away to try and pretend to do your job. 

You watched him put on his helmet, and when he finished adjusting it, he looked over at you and gave you a wink before he closed the visor, and drove out of the garage. 

End of the day you walked towards the exit, ready to head back to the hotel. You had walked out with Jonas, getting a ride with him to the hotel. 

Walking to his car, he nudged your side with his elbow. 

“Hey” “What’s going on with Lando?” “I have never seen him like that” He had a sly smirk on his face.

“I really don’t know” “He just asked questions about the car, and I answered” You tried to laugh it off, he could not know what happened between the two of you. 

“Weird” He laughed back.

Lando was standing by his car door, just about to get in before he heard your sweet laugh. He turned his head and watched you and Jonas talking and laughing together. You were standing so close. Lando felt his jaw clench, and his knuckles turned white when he squeezed his fists. 

He watched the two of you get into the car and drive off, smile still present on your beautiful face. A smile he felt should only be for him. An unfamiliar feeling tugged at his heart, a feeling he didn’t like. And he knew the only person who could fix that, would be you. So he sped off after you, towards the hotel .   

You and Jonas arrived at the hotel before Lando, and you didn’t waste any time making your way to your hotel room, saying goodbye to Jonas when you walked out of the elevator. 

Entering your room, You headed straight to the pile of clothes on your bed, your comfy clothes, that you had left there when you had to change out of them this morning. After taking off your bra and putting the comfy clothes on, you collapsed on your bed, exhausted from the long day. You reached for your phone, and opened tiktok. But not even halfway through the first tiktok, there was a knock at your door.

It was quite aggressive, and it didn’t stop knocking. You figured maybe Sophie had just gotten back, and had some gossip to share with you. So you hurried over to open the door. 

You tore the door open to stop the harsh knocking, and expected to be faced with Sophie, but instead you saw an angry looking Lando standing in front of you. You jerked your head back in confusion, and went to ask what he was doing here. But he was quicker.

He took a step forward, making you step backwards so he didn’t collide with you. He shut the door behind him, now in your room. 

“Is he here?” He asked, frantically looking around the room. 

“What?” 

“Is Jonas here?” He was now staring at you, a fire in his eyes. 

“What the fuck are you talking about Norris?” “And what the fuck are you even doing here?” You felt your eyes narrow at him, anger bubbling up inside you. 

“I saw the two of you getting in his car, laughing and shit” “So you two are a thing now or what?” He took a step towards you, now so close that you could feel his breath on your face. 

“Oh my god Lando!” You threw your hands up in frustration and opened your mouth to say more. 

“Is. He. Here?” His voice was so low, and his eyes were so dark when he looked down at you. 

“NO!” You yelled back. 

And before you could tell him to get the fuck out, he grabbed the sides of your face and smashed your lips against his. 

You melted at the kiss, and you snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. You couldn’t control yourself around him. 

Lando was so tense, and so aggressive. But the second you kissed him back, and held onto him. You felt him relax against you. The kiss immediately turning passionate and sweet. 

But Lando was still jealous, and his hunger for you only grew as you kept kissing him back. He took slow steps forward, making you follow him towards the bed. 

Before your legs hit the bed, you felt Lando grab onto the hem of your sweater and swiftly pulled it over your head, your tits bouncing from the sheer force he used. 

His eyes immediately found your chest and he made the softest moan. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you” He muttered.

He tore his own clothes off, and yours. Until you both were completely naked. He wasted no time in capturing your lips again, his hands roaming all over your body, before they found their way to the back of your thighs, squeezing them to signal you to jump. And you did, no hesitation.

A moan escaped your throat when you felt his dick against your inner thigh. But you didn’t even have time to think about it before you back hit the soft mattress, as he threw you onto the bed. 

Opening your eyes, you looked up to see Lando still standing there, looking at you with a hungry look in his eyes before he climbed onto the bed, and made his way between you legs. 

Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, but he kept enough space between you, so his dick wasn’t near you, making you whine. You just wanted him already. His eyes immediately found yours when you made that sound, catching him off guard. 

“I didn’t know you needed me that bad babe” “Patience darling” He grabbed onto your jaw as he brought your face closer to his and whispered “Patience”. 

You crashed your lips against his, tightening your hold around his waist, trying to pull him closer. When he felt what you were doing, he pulled back and looked down at you with dark eyes. 

“So needy” 

You felt his fingers softly grazing the inside of your thigh, so close to where you needed him. Your hips moved, trying to find his fingers. And he gave in, tracing a finger through your folds.

He pushed a finger slowly inside, making you throw your head back and moan. He saw the effect it had on you, and soon added a second finger. Slowly pushing them in and out. And when he started tracing circles on your clit with his thumb, you were a moaning mess. 

You grabbed a hold of his forearm that was resting on your thigh, and you opened your eyes and met his. He had that same dark look that you were getting used to seeing, and his mouth was slightly open. It was like he was studying your every facial expression, seeing how much effect he had on you. 

You went to close your eyes again, you climax getting close. But he quickly pulled his fingers all the way out, the loss of his fingers making you gasp.

And when you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw him slowly bring his fingers to his mouth, he sucked his fingers clean and let out a groan at the taste. 

“Fuck, you taste so sweet” 

Without warning his fingers entered you again, forcefully sliding in and out. It made you arch your back from the sudden pleasure. You squeezed your eyes shut and grabbed a hold of the sheets beneath you. 

It didn’t take long until he was satisfied and pulled them back out. And before you could complain again, he was above you. 

You opened your eyes to see his face hovering above yours, you looked deep into his eyes, completely mesmerized. Until you felt something wet on your lips. You looked down to see the fingers he just had inside you.

“Now be a good girl and open up”

And you did. Slowly opening your mouth and welcoming his fingers. 

You could taste yourself, and it made you moan. Sucking his fingers completely clean, swirling your tongue around the two digits. You could see it in his eyes, just how weak you made him. 

He went to pull his fingers out of your mouth, but before they completely left your mouth, his grip tightened around your jaw. 

As he was holding on to your jaw, he looked deep into your eyes as he entered you, hard, until he bottomed out inside you. It caught you off guard and you let out a loud moan. 

“Fuck” “I missed you so much sweetheart” His voice was low and rough.

He slowly pulled out of you, until his tip was the only thing inside you, before he slammed back into you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

He kept thrusting at a relentless pace, making your breathing uneven as he was slamming into you. His hold on your jaw softened, as he soon let his hand wander down to softly rest against the side of your throat. 

He buried his head in your neck, making you hear every small sound he made. His breathing heavy, and small groans he let out. You wanted- no. You needed to hear more. 

You wrapped your legs tighter around him, and your fingers raked up his biceps and shoulders, until they found the back of his neck. 

You were clawing and grabbing at anything you could. And you arched your back as much as you could, the pleasure immense. 

You whined in his ear. “Lando”

It made him lift his head out of your neck, his face red and sweaty. Some of his curls stuck to his forehead. He looked heavenly. 

It made you grab the sides of his face, dragging him down so his lips landed on yours. It was sloppy and wet, but god, the way his mouth felt on yours was breathtaking. 

Lando was the one to break the kiss, lifting his head to catch his breath. As he looked down at you, your mouth slightly open, your lips wet and pink, your pupils dilated as you looked deep into his eyes. It made him mutter out a string of curse words as he picked up his pace, chasing his orgasm. 

He found that spot inside you that made you see stars, your own orgasm getting close. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, as you kept looking up at Lando, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

Lando’s hand, which had been resting on the side of your throat, moved to wrap itself around your throat, and he tightened his grip. He didn’t make it difficult for you to breathe, but he was putting pressure that made everything feel so much better. 

Your hands wrapped themselves around his forearm, nails digging into his skin. Your mouth opened as you let high pitched moans slip out. 

“You like that huh?” He was almost grinning at you.

You couldn’t get words out, but a drawn out “mhm” came out of you.

Your orgasm was so close, as Lando’s pace had only picked up, and he was still slamming into you with so much force. 

Lando felt it, your pussy clenching just a little bit more around him.

“You close? hm?” 

“Yes” Was all you managed to get out, your eyes closing as you focused.

It took all the strength Lando had to slow his pace and soften his movement just enough to not make you cum yet.

Your hips moved to try and chase your orgasm, but when Lando felt that, his hold on your throat squeezed to get your attention. 

Opening your eyes, you were met with Lando’s dark eyes. You couldn’t help but beg.

“Please let me cum” “Please Lando” You sound as whiny as you could, hoping he would give in.

“I will” “When you tell me who you belong to” His voice was deep and he sounded almost angry. But a smirk grew on his face when he felt your pussy clench again, just from what he said. 

“You Lando” “I belong to you” You were giving him your all, desperate for him to let you cum. 

“And who’s the one making you feel this good?”

“You Lando” “It’s all you” you moaned. “Please”

“Fuck sweetheart” “I can’t resist you when you beg like that”

His hand left your throat and circled around your waist, his palm spread on your back. He lifted you with him as he sat further up on his knees. The only thing holding you in this position was his hand, his other hand on the bed, holding the both of you up. 

Your own hands grabbed onto his shoulder to hold yourself against him. 

He started moving his hips again, still inside you. This new position made him go just a bit deeper, making you feel fuller than before. Your climax nearing quickly. 

His head once again found the crook in your neck, and buried itself there making small sloppy kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

Your hand flew up to grab onto his curls as he fucked up into you, until your climax finally hit. A drawn out moan escaping you as every muscle in your body tensed before they relaxed, finally getting that release. 

You felt Lando’s teeth sink into your shoulder as he filled you up. A low groan coming from him. 

He slowly let you sink back on the bed, collapsing on top of you, breathing ragged as one of your hands caressed the back of his neck.

You hadn’t felt this relaxed in months, his now soft breathing almost lulling you to sleep, until you hear him softly mutter against your skin.

“I can’t get enough of you"

You stirred awake as the brightness of the sun hit your face. Slowly opening your eyes, you looked out of the window to see the sun rising, it was gorgeous. 

You felt so cozy as you laid tangled in your sheets. You closed your eyes again to just enjoy the quiet morning. But right as you did, you hear someone breath out a quiet sigh against your shoulder. Opening your eyes and turning your head, you were met with a still sleeping Lando. 

His face was turned towards you and both of his arms were wrapped tightly around you. His curls were messy, and cute. He looked so peaceful.

You had never seen him like this, because usually he was being a cheeky bastard. But now, you couldn’t help but marvel at his features as the sun illuminated his face. 

He distracted you, so it took you a moment before you realized he was in your bed, in your hotel room, cuddling with you. You must’ve fallen asleep last night, and he must’ve not left. Why did he not leave? 

You kind of freaked out a little, and you needed to pee. So when Lando turned onto his back, one arm slipping away from you, you took your opportunity and slipped out of bed. 

You grabbed a tshirt and underwear on your way to the bathroom. After you peed, you stood in front of the mirror as you washed your hands. Looking at yourself, you slipped the shirt over your head, and pulled your underwear on.

You decided to do your usual morning routine while you were in here. So you did your skin care, and brushed your teeth before you stopped to look at yourself again. 

What were you going to do about Lando? This time, to stop your mind from overthinking it, you decided to just open the bathroom door and walk out. 

Opening the door, Lando was facing away from you, still sleeping. So you turned around to close the door carefully. 

When you turned back around, a sleepy Lando was looking back at you. You froze in your place, unsure of what to do. He slowly lifted the covers to where you had been previously laying.

“Come back in here” His voice was so gravelly and low, just incredibly sexy.

“Uh- I- um-” 

“Come on” 

Your body acted for you as you stepped towards the bed, before you slid under the covers. His arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his chest. His head was resting on your shoulder, and he was actually snuggling into you. You didn’t realize how tense you were until he mumbled.

“Relax baby”

So you did. He was so warm and soft, it made you feel so safe and comforted as he was holding you. So you turned over to face him, sliding down so you could bury your face in his chest. You felt a small chuckle escape him, and one of his hands started tracing figures on your back. 

You hadn’t noticed you fell asleep again until he softly asked.

“Do you have to be at the track any sooner than two?” 

You left your place in his chest and looked up at him, you didn’t really understand what he said as you were still half asleep.

You saw a warm smile spread on Lando’s face. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You lifted a hand to rub your eyes, “Yeah, but it’s fine” 

He stayed quiet, just studying your face.

“But what did you say?” You dropped your hand and stared up at him.

“I just asked if you had to be at the track any sooner than two” You couldn’t place the look he had on his face.

“Oh” “Uh, no” “You?”

“No”

You didn’t really know what to say now. He had such an intense look on his face and you didn’t know what to do.

He leaned his head down to capture your lips in the softest kiss yet. It was a loving kiss, so foreign to come from Lando.

You melted against the kiss, humming against him as you let him lay you down on your back as he hovered above you, lips still attached. He was the one to break the kiss, lifting his head to look down at you. 

“You want breakfast?”

“um- yeah” You smiled up at him, and nodded wildly. 

He smiled back and lifted himself off to get out of bed. 

You were sitting at a table outside of a cafe. The chair opposite you empty. You sat there staring off into space as you chewed on your bottom lip. Thinking about Lando’s sudden change in personality. 

You didn’t have time to dwell on it too hard before a coffee was placed in front of you. You looked up to meet Lando’s eyes as he sat down across from you. 

“Everything okay?” His eyebrows furrowed, he almost looked concerned. 

“Uh- yeah!” “But how did you know this is my favorite coffee?” You pointed down to the cup in front of you. 

A smile grew on his face. You could never get sick of seeing that kind smile. 

“I pick up on things you know” He seemed so satisfied with himself as he took a sip of his own coffee, leaning back in his chair.

After a good Friday on track in Miami, you walked towards the garage on Saturday, sporting an unusually bright smile. Maybe the reason for it was the work environment? 

Everyone in the garage had been in such a better mood this race weekend, you couldn’t put your finger on why. But, even Lando had a smile on his face most of the time. He was so much easier to work with, and started being really kind to the mechanics and engineers, and everyone basically. 

The good mood was probably just because the team had been doing so good lately, and Miami was a great track for Red Bull. Yeah, of course it was just that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw Sophie walking towards you. She looked confused and something akin to anger. It made you slow your speed as your smile dropped, worry setting in.

When she finally caught up with you she whisper-yelled at you. “Have you slept with Lando again?!”

She immediately figured out the answered when you looked down at the ground and mumbled a quiet “oh fuck”.

“Jesus Y/N” she sighed.

“I- uh- shit.” “It just happened one time ok!” Your eyes met her in a pleading look.

She didn’t answer, but relief washed over you when she cracked a smile and chuckled. 

“Shit, this bad isn’t it?” She smiled even more at your question.

“No, actually not” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her answer.

“I just asked because I had to do some media work with Lando and Oscar, and Lando has never been that easy to work with. And he was smiling and laughing more than I have ever seen.” “And I know why” She nodded, seeming so secure in her reason. 

“Oh that's good!” “But yeah, that's because he’s been getting good results lately and Miami’s going to be great for him no?”

“No” You looked at her even more confused.

“He’s more happy now, than when he got his first win. And the only thing that has changed around him since then, is that you have been sleeping with him.” She looked so smug, and so confident.

You let out a short laugh. “You’re insane Sophie” “You’re suggesting he’s happier because we have been sleeping together?” 

“I’m not suggesting. I know”

“Bullshit” You scoffed. “I don’t have time for this Sophie, I have to get to the garage”

“I’ll join you!”

��Fine.” You rolled your eyes.

You walked into the garage with Sophie beside you as she talked about what media work she had for the rest of the day. 

The second you walked towards where Lando’s car was parked, Sophie was interrupted.

“Y/N! there you are!” Lando was almost jogging over towards you, a warm smile on his face.

As he stopped in front of you, and looked down at you with such a soft look, making your breath hitch in your throat. 

“We need to do the seat check, and you’re the only one who can get it right” He chuckled.

Your eyes flickered over to Sophie and you saw her smirking back at the two of you. Looking back at Lando, he just looked at you, like he was waiting for an answer. 

“Oh- uh- Yeah” “Of course” You tried your best to not seem flustered. 

Lando’s smile grew just a bit more and he nodded, making his way to get into his car. You looked back at Sophie and she whispered “I am so right” before she winked at you and turned to talk to some of the mechanics. . 

Coming back to it, you walked over to the car and leaned over the halo, closer to where Lando was sitting. 

“So, you think something needs adjusting?” You turned your head to look him in the eyes.

Your faces so close to each other as he looked back at you. And yeah, you had slept with him two times now, but the atmosphere was so different in a situation like this. 

He quickly turned his head to look straight ahead before speaking.

“Yeah, just this bit here” He pointed at what he was talking about, and you nodded before standing up to go retrieve the tool you needed. 

Coming back, you leaned back over the halo, and luckily it was in a place that was fairly easy to access while he was still in the car. So when you finished, you turned back to Lando.

“Like that?”

Lando didn’t answer, but as he looked at you, he slowly lifted his hand and tucked some hair behind your ear. 

“Perfect” he whispered.

You could feel his breath on your face as you just stared back at him, stunned. And he just kept looking at you with those soft eyes that you were completely lost in. 

Your ”staring contest” was interrupted when someone shouted for Lando. Finally being able to move, you stepped back and turned over to your workbench, and tried to shake it off. Your cheeks warm, you probably resembled a tomato.

You tried reminding yourself that he was still a dick he was probably just faking being nice so you would keep sleeping with him or something. Yes. That was definitely it.

After Lando left the garage with the person who was calling him, Jonas walked up to you. 

“Is it just me or has Lando been weirdly nice lately?” He leaned towards you as he spoke quietly so no one would hear. 

You turned to look at him, eyes wide, your facial expression betraying you. He leaned back and his eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused about your reaction. 

You tried your best to brush it off like it was nothing. “Yeah, I just thought it was because he finally got his win, and is getting consistently good results” You forced a smile to try and seem normal, but your mind was running wild about what Sophie had said. 

“Yeah sure” “That has to be it” He started smirking before he slowly walked away, still smirking at you. Your mind was panicking. 

You walked into the Red Bull factory, bright and early in the morning, the warm spring sun making you mood ten times better. 

As you walked past the trophy wall, you saw some people putting in two new trophies. One for first place, and one for second. Lando won in Miami, and Max came second. 

You thought back to the podium where you stood underneath it all as you watched Lando get drowned in champagne, huge smile on his face. He looked irresistible up there. Good thing you didn’t get a moment alone with him after the podium. You probably would’ve folded like a lawn chair if you did. 

All you had today was a bunch of boring meetings, and office work.

The day went by slowly, and when it was finally time to go home. You packed up everything into your bag. And while you stood there, you felt a presence beside you.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here today sweetheart” You could hear that familiar smirk in his voice. It made you roll your eyes.

You turned around and looked at him. He was standing so close, no doubt on purpose. 

“Yes, you did” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Now, how would I know that?” His smirk somehow grew.

“Why else did you come all the way over here to my desk?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Hope” He said softly, and the look in his eyes changed.

It took you aback. How he was able to change so quickly from his usual cheeky self, to sweet and kind. You didn’t get to reply before he spoke again.

“You wanna walk out together?”

“Um- Yeah sure” You grabbed your bag and walked beside him through the building. 

Walking out of the doors, The two of you walked towards the car park, and stopped in front of Lando’s car. He looked over at you.

“Did you drive here?”

“Yeah” You smiled at him.

“Oh, okay” He sounded almost disappointed, but quickly brushed it away. “See you soon then!” He smiled big at you before getting into his car. 

You just managed to blurt out “See you!” before he closed his car door, and drove off.

You stood there confused for a second, before you decided not to think too much about it and just get in your own car and drive home. 

You had made yourself a nice dinner, and plopped down in front of the tv to watch your favorite comfort show. 

After finishing, you put the dishes in the dishwasher, and your phone vibrated from your pocket. You pulled it out, and when the screen lit up, you saw the name “Lando Norris”.

“hey are you home?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow in confusion. But you still typed out a reply.

“yeah why?”

He responded right away.

“sorry, I’m just really bored and I want to see you” 

“Lando…”

“do you just want sex?”

“no!” “I know it sounds like that haha but I just want company”

Your heart made the decision for you. Fuck it.

“here’s my address;”

It didn’t take long before you heard a knock on your door, and you opened it for him to come in. 

After he stepped inside, you closed the door behind him. And while your back was still turned to him, you felt his hands wrap themselves around your torso, holding you tight against him. And his forehead rested on your shoulder. It made you stop in your tracks, confused.

“A-Are you okay?” you asked softly.

“Yeah” “I am now” His voice muffled because of your sweater.

You didn’t really know what to do, so you stayed still.

Eventually he said something.

“You smell good” He mumbled as he buried his head further into your shoulder.

“Oh- um- thanks” You felt your face heat up. Strange how a compliment like that had such an effect on you. 

He just kept holding you, and you had been standing like this for a good few minutes now. 

“You wanna go sit down on the couch?”

“Fine” He hesitated, but slowly pulled back until you could step aside and make a move towards the couch.

Sitting down, you reached forward to pick the remote off the table while you felt Lando sit down beside you. You pressed play on what you had been watching earlier, and turned over to look at Lando with a questioning look. 

He looked back at you with an innocent look, like he was kind of intimidated by your stare.

"So.. Why did you really want to come?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I honestly just wanted to spend time with you” He breathed out. 

“Weirdo” You whispered while you leant back into the couch. You heard Lando let out a chuckle.

You shifted your eyes to the tv, and tried to pay attention to it. But from the corner of your eye, you could see Lando shuffling closer to you, until your shoulders, and thighs were touching. 

You turned your head to look up at him. He was already looking down at you with a look in his eyes that made you feel warm and fuzzy. That man could make you feel so many emotions just from his eyes alone. 

Despite wanting to drown in his eyes, you turned your head away, and looked back at the tv. 

Lando was sitting there, still looking at your face studying the tv. He feared he might have pushed it too far, coming here, sitting so close. But the feeling of you leaning into his body silenced his mind quickly, and he made himself a little more comfortable as he relaxed against you. 

You had been sitting in silence for what felt like 15 minutes, until you decided to say something. 

“Sorry if this is really boring” “You want to do something else?” You looked over at him through the corner of your eye.

“No I’m not bored” “But is there something you had in mind?” He looked back at you.

You had just the thing. You stood up and walked over to where your Nintendo switch was, in the stand by the tv. You hooked everything up and grabbed the controls, walked back over and handed one to Lando.

“Mario Kart” 

Lando’s smirk grew, “Oh baby, you know I’m going to win.” His eyes giving you a sympathetic look. 

“Oh Lando..” “You just wait and see pretty boy” You gave him that same sympathetic look, and your hand reached up to softly hold the side of his face.

Lando could feel his heart beat faster. The way you looked at him and held his face. And when you called him “pretty boy” he was done for. He really considered letting you win just by the sheer confidence radiating from you. But when you booted up the game and started choosing the character, his usual competitive personality came back, and he would do everything he could to beat you. 

You were on the last track, and the two of you had been so even, so whoever won this track, won the game. Lando was sweating, he would say he was surprised that you were this good, but he honestly wasn’t.

You were in first place, Lando hot on your tail. And you had just entered the last round, and Lando could see his victory slipping away. He looked over at you and saw how focused you were, your tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration. 

He saw his perfect opportunity to strike. So he bumped his knee against yours. 

“Hey!” “No fair!” You kept your eyes on the screen as you tried to keep your focus. 

Lando then decided to do the worst, and threw away everything he worked so hard for when one of his hands left the controller and stretched out to grab onto your waist. Making your whole body jolt with the contact. 

And soon after, he started tickling you. You tried your best to make it to the finish line, you really did. But you had no control over how your body reacted to the insistent tickling. 

So the controller flew from your hands, as you tried to stop his arms from moving, to no use. He kept going, now, somehow hovering above you. 

Finally, he gave you a moment to breathe, his hands still holding on to your sides, as he just looked down at you trying to catch your breath. 

You closed your eyes, focusing on your breath. You felt Lando bury his head in the crook of your neck, and his arms circled your waist so he was holding around you, making you arch your body up against him. He put his whole body weight on yours as he laid down on top of you. And you felt him slowly breathing in and out against your neck.

You didn’t know what to say or do, so you just let him be. You just closed your eyes and figured you might as well enjoy the comfort, because it was really really comfortable. You lifted your arms and carefully wrapped them around him, so they were resting on his strong back. 

When Lando felt your arms wrap around him and rest on his back, he automatically buried his head just a bit more, and tightened his grip around you, so you were even closer than before, if that was even possible. 

You could hear the quiet background music still coming from the unfinished game. And you could both hear and feel that Lando’s breath was slowing down, and his body relaxing against you. 

Lando was almost falling asleep. He tried to fight it, but you were just so comfortable. And he didn’t want to admit it, but just the fact that he was holding around you, and you him, was making him feel safe and sound. Lando was on the verge of snoring, and you were noticing.

“Lando” “Are you falling asleep?” You softly whispered, a question you already knew the answer to.

“No” you felt him mumble against your skin. The sound in his voice making it clear that he was lying. 

Lando felt your body shake as you let out a short giggle.

“Was it that obvious?” You felt him smile against your skin. 

“You were almost snoring” “So, yes.” You kept giggling.

Lando let out a short chuckle before he lifted his head so he looked down at you. 

“Well, It’s your fault that you’re so comfortable” He smiled. Such a sweet smile you loved that you were seeing more of. 

Your smile mimicked his as you looked up at him. Lando’s eyes quickly darted across your face, looking at all of your features, committing them to his memory. You looked angelic. Your smile warming up his heart that had grown a bit too cold in recent years. He was already feeling the effects of your warmth. His smile being more common than it used to be. And portraying a kindness to try and match yours. If anyone knew how he felt, they would say he was falling in Love.

Your smile faded, but a soft look still remained on your face. The way that Lando was looking at you, it was like you were completely naked and vulnerable in front of him. But the emotion behind his eyes showed only comfort and admiration. So it wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite.

In that moment, you hoped he would never stop looking at you like that. And to Lando, he would never even want to stop looking at you at all.

Without either of you noticing, your faces had gotten so close, to the point where your lips were just barely touching. Your hands came up to cradle both sides of his face, and the comfort of the feeling, made Lando capture your lips in a soft kiss.

He was in control, and he was kissing you oh so slowly and carefully. Lando had turned so soft and kind, like he cared for you, deeply. He kissed you like you were fragile, Which you both knew from experience that you weren’t. You couldn’t take it anymore.

One of your hands traveled up to tug at his hair, and the other wrapped around his bicep that was beside your head, nails digging into the skin, hoping it could signal him into doing more. 

Either Lando didn’t pick up on your signs, or he did it on purpose. But that man did nothing to heat up the kiss. If anything, he almost kissed you slower.

So you decided to wrap your legs around his waist, your core meeting the bulge in his pants. Unfortunately, he was only half hard, but that was something you intended on changing in a matter of seconds. 

You started moving your hips slowly, up and down against his length, it solicited a small hum from his throat. But that was all it did. Somehow Lando kept his composure. 

But you could feel his dick twitching in his pants. The friction you received from it was making you quietly moan into his mouth. You were going to break him. Make him snap.

You disconnected your legs from him, and you almost heard him whine at the loss of contact. Both of your hands landed on his chest, and you gave a little push, signaling him. He sat up on his knees, and looked down at you, his eyes hooded. 

You sat up on your knees in front of him and gave him another small shove in the chest. “Lay down.” You breathed out.

He did what you said, and layed down on his back, looking up at you with anticipation. You lifted yourself so you could sit back down over his thighs, straddling him. 

You sat far enough back that his now very obvious bulge was right in front of your core. 

You looked back up to find Lando’s eyes and the darkened, familiar look you saw in them, made a shiver run down your spine. 

As you kept eye contact, you brushed your fingertips over his clothed dick. It made his eyes flutter close, and he tilted his head all the way back, his neck more exposed. 

You flattened your palm over the bulge, and moved your hands up and down along the length, in a slow and soft pace. You could see the veins on Lando’s neck getting more visible, as he was straining himself, trying to chase the movement of your hand with his hips. 

His breathing was ragged, and his eyes squeezed shut. And small, choked whimpers came from him. He looked so pretty. 

You decided to give him what he wanted. And when Lando felt your hand disappear, his eyes shot open to beg you for more. But when his eyes landed on you, you had already opened the button on his pants, and dragged the zipper down. 

Lando didn’t have a moment to register it, before your hand was wrapped around his length. A guttural moan came out of him, eyes squeezing shut again.

While your hand was starting to slowly move up and down, with the other, you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock. Moving further and further down to hold on to his balls. 

You could tell you were doing a good job, just by the amount of sounds coming from Lando. Both his hands had formed fists, his knuckles white as he was doing everything in his power to not snap. 

You swiped your thumb across the tip, collecting the precum that had seeped out. His breath shuddered, and he opened his eyes to look at you with a pleading look. 

It almost made you do exactly what he wanted, almost. But instead, you stopped your movements, and decided to torture him a little. 

So you made your way to stand up and walk off. But the second your feet were on the ground, and your back turned to him. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you back down. 

You were both sitting on your knees, your back against his chest, and you could feel him poking against your backside. You felt heat flow to your core just at the thought of what he was going to do now. 

Lando grabbed on to the hem of your shirt, and tore it off. His hands immediately finding your bra, unclasping it, and throwing it towards where your shirt went. 

His hands forcefully grabbed your breasts and he ground his hips into your ass, moaning into your ear. 

You could do nothing but wait for his next move. One of his hands slowly traced along your stomach, making its way down to the hem of your pants, while his other hand was wrapped around your torso, holding you tight against him. 

His hand found the button on your pants, and unbuttoned it with one hand, and slowly slid down the zipper. 

His chin was resting on your shoulder, as he looked down to see his hand sliding into your panties. 

You threw your head back at the feeling, resting it on his shoulder. One of his fingers found your hole, and collected the wetness there. 

“Oh, so wet” He cooed in your ear. 

His finger found your clit as he started circling it slowly. Your mouth had opened, as you let all of your sounds spill out. 

Soon he added more pressure, and his touch was more focused. If he kept it up, it wouldn’t be long before you came. 

You tilted your head so your mouth was close to his ear, and you whimpered. “fuck Lando” “Please keep going” You begged.

Quickly, without warning, he pulled his hand out. You whined in complaint.

“Not so fun now, is it?” He spoke directly in your ear. 

You didn’t even have time to reply before he was pulling your pants down to your knees, and instructing you to lift them, so he could take them all the way off. 

You did what he said, leaning your upper body forward on the couch, ass up towards him. 

After he tore yours off, you turned your head over your shoulder, to see him hurrying to take his own off.

His hand landed on your back, pushing your upper body further into the couch, your face squished in the cushions. 

Both of his hands slid down to your ass, and grabbed it firmly, enjoying the sight. And shoved you even more, so he could see more of you. 

You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you felt one of his hands slide further towards your core. And then you felt how close he was when he spoke.

“God, you’re beautiful” He was in awe, just looking at you. 

But soon, his finger found your wet hole, and slowly slid inside. You sighed into the couch cushion, and moved your hips back onto his finger, taking in as much as you could.  

He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside you. He quickly removed his finger, and you were about to complain. But before you could get a word out, his hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back towards him. His dick slid inside so well, filling you up just like you wanted. The feeling almost making you scream.

He let out a loud groan, finally getting the feeling of you being wrapped around him again. He had a tight grip on your hips as he pulled you back to meet his hips everytime he shoved himself inside you. 

His thrusts were getting rough and hard, and you were loving every second of it. Him in complete control, and you babbling incoherent sounds into the cushions. 

You felt the heat build up inside you, and you were getting close. Lando kept his pace up and you could feel his balls slapping against you, the sound of your skin slapping together and both of you moaning was unholy.

You felt Lando lean forward, arm wrapping around your waist, and the other around your chest, so his palm was flattened right against your beating heart. You didn’t even have time to think about what he was doing, the new angle making you see stars. 

Lando pulled your body up as he sat back on his knees. your back against his chest. Just like you were earlier. 

He held you tight against him, as he now fucked up into you. You didn’t think the angle of him inside you could get any better, but oh, how wrong you were. 

You heard Lando swearing under his breath, and you leaned your head back against his shoulder, a moaning mess, and so close. “Lando..” “I’m clo-”

You didn’t get to finish your words before you felt the hand that was wrapped around your waist, slide down to circle his middle finger around your clit. You almost screamed out, the pleasure almost being too much. 

And when you felt his other hand wrap around your throat and squeeze, you were done for. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as it all came crashing down.

Your thighs were shaking, and your walls were constricting around him, milking him for all he was worth, which sent him over the edge.

He let out a soft whimper as he came, the sound alone almost making you cum for a second time. 

His arms wrapped tightly around your middle, almost hugging you as his forehead rested against your shoulder. 

He took some deep breaths, breathing in your scent, and hummed against you. You felt him growing soft inside you, and some of your fluids started running down your thighs. 

You felt Lando softly lift your hips so he could slide out of you, the emptiness making you whine. He chuckled before he kissed your shoulder and stood up. You collapsed forward on the couch, too tired so stay sitting on your knees. 

You heard Lando walk away towards the bathroom, and soon after, you heard the shower start. You furrowed your brows, a bit confused. Kind of a dick move to just hop in the shower and leave you collapsed on the couch. 

You didn’t even hear Lando walk back out until you felt his fingers softly gracing your arm as he asked you; “You think you can stand up?”

You turned your head and looked up at him, you saw a glint in his eyes when he looked at you, no doubt caused by how absolutely fucked out of your mind you looked. 

You softly nodded against the soft pillows and muttered out a “Maybe” as you lifted yourself up and tried to stand up. Lando’s hand held onto your bicep just in case you needed any help. And he looked like he was ready to catch you if your knees even buckled.

Which they did, and Lando immediately wrapped his free arm around your waist, holding you up with such a force that your toes were the only thing touching the ground. 

After he just fucked you like that, he was so soft and caring. You really liked this side of him, and silently wished you could see more of it. 

Lando’s eyes searched yours with a hint of worry. But they softened when you reassured him you were fine. But he kept an arm wrapped around you as he walked the two of you towards your bathroom, where the shower had been heating up. 

He helped you step inside, and followed after you. And the two of you enjoyed a nice warm shower together, him holding around you almost the entire time, constantly worried your legs would give out.

You were softly awakening, feeling your hair being brushed behind your ear, and soft fingers tracing your face. You slowly opened your eyes to find his eyes looking back at you. 

Lando had a lovesick smile on his face. “You look so beautiful in the morning” His voice was deep and raspy.

You felt yourself blush and you lifted the covers to hide your face. 

Lando sat upright and lifted one of his hands to try and tug the cover away, “No, don’t hide” “I want to see you”

You peeked your eyes over the covers, seeing nothing but truth behind Lando’s eyes. You lowered the covers.

“Thank you baby” His smile grew, and you saw his eyes searching your face, like he was trying to count the freckles on your skin. It gave you a moment to do the same, now really noticing the moles beside his nose, and the ones scattered across his cheeks. 

You noticed his face coming closer to yours, and when you met his eyes you saw how he was looking at your lips. You sat up and met him halfway, reaching up to hold his face, dragging him back down. He threw out an arm to hold himself above you, leaning more into the kiss. 

Lando was the one to pull back, and looked at you with a glint in his eye, like he knew something you didn’t.

Before you had time to think about your words, your mouth opened. 

“Why are you so nice now?” You saw his mouth frown slightly, the sight making you wince. You wanted to take it back. 

You opened your mouth again to try and fix your mistake, but Lando was quicker. 

“I know..” “I have been thinking about it myself” He sighed and laid down beside you, and quickly glanced at you before he looked anywhere but you. 

You saw that he was struggling, regret seeping into your veins. “I’m sorry Lando, I didn’t mean it” “You don’t have to say anything” “I’m so sorry” You carefully looked at him, wanting nothing more than to smack yourself for talking before thinking. 

“No, no” “I’m just trying to collect my thoughts. I’m not that great with words” He let out an awkward chuckle. 

His eyes finally met yours again, and you could see the vulnerability behind Lando’s eyes. He smiled softly before speaking again.

“My last few seasons at McLaren were not good. The car was not working for me, and I wasn’t doing good mentally, so I really started to spiral. I made the mistake of not talking about it, and that only made it worse.” “It made me angry and resentful. Which made me lose the people close to me.” “I got so used to being like that, thinking it was the best solution. And then I made the move to Red Bull, it made it better in the sense that the car was better, I was less miserable. But It still didn’t change my attitude and anger. Thinking that if I went back to being the old me, it would hurt me.” 

“So when we slept together the first time, it made me feel so confident.” He smiled sheepishly at you.

He continued. “And when we slept together that second time, it made me feel unstoppable. And that morning, I was so comfortable around you that I didn’t even think about how I was acting. It was such a nice morning. The nicest one I’ve ever had.” You felt yourself blush.

“And after that day, it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I found happiness in everything, something I haven’t felt in a long time. It never even crossed my mind about my change in attitude, until people asked me about it.” “And when I thought about it, I just thought about you.” His eyes no longer met yours, a shyness about Lando that you had never seen.

“When I’m with you, I feel like myself again”

Lando couldn’t bear to look at you. A realization hit him about what he just told you. He just started talking about his feelings, and he had told you everything, something he didn’t think he would ever do. 

Lando felt your soft hand on the side of his face, and he felt you now laying on top of him, hugging him. You buried your face in his neck. You were speechless. Lando had said he wasn’t good with words, but that was a complete lie. 

He had confessed something to you that no one ever had. No one had ever told you that you were the reason they could feel like themselves. You didn’t really know how to feel about that. 

Lando started to feel something wet hit the sides of his neck. His eyes shot open in realization. “Are you crying?” He asked you with so much concern in his voice.

Oh shit, you got caught. You tried to carefully keep your breathing steady as you slowly shook your head. 

“Y/N, look at me please” He almost whispered.

You slowly lifted your head to look at him, and when your eyes met his, you could see the worry in them. 

His hands cradled the sides of your face, and a thumb flew out to swipe away a falling tear. 

“Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong” More worry found its way in Lando’s eyes. 

“No” You softly shook your head as you whispered. 

You lifted a hand to hold on to one of his. “No one has ever said something like that to me before” You let out a small breath before you continued.

“Thank you Lando” You sighed, a soft smile on your face.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you thanking me?”

Your smile grew. “You just bared your soul to me, Lando.” “And you told me that I make you feel like yourself again.” 

“Yeah, so if anything, I should thank you, for listening to me” His thumb swiped across your cheek again. 

“Lando. You shouldn’t have to thank me for listening to you.” “I would never want to stop listening to you” 

“Please never leave me” He said it like he was actually begging you. His eyebrows furrowed.

“I wouldn’t even dream about it” You leaned in to give him a soft kiss.

And when you pulled back to look at him. You started to recognize the look in his eyes, it was like he was looking at the world. The universe. And he found that in your eyes.

Who's crying? not me! (yes I am.)

Taglist;

@laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @chonkybonky

[otakuworks]

Hiiiiiii it's my first time asking, I really love ur genshin works and this may be a very huge request but I've been having a brainrot where Genshin men are in particular manhwa and the reader gets to be the protagonist.

My idea is Xiao as Duke Kedrey from Villainess is a Marionette, cuz he treasure his personal bubble and really is a strong warrior like Raphael.

Maybe Scara as Rezef, it's self explanatory lol

Or Childe as Jeremy Agriche from Roxana. He'll spoil his darling rotten and relationship can be quite toxic but still healthy nonetheless.

Or Kaeya as Heinrey from The Remarried Empress. They're both Casanovas and hot looking❤❤

Or Razor as Nine from Beware of the Villainess.

I know it's too much and you ignore this if you want if it's a bit overwhelming. But if you do, it's okay to not do all of it, I'll be satisfied even just with one. Thank you and have a great day!!!!

❛ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 𝐌𝐋. manhwa au

feat. Xiao, Scara, Childe, Kaeya, Bennett x GN!Reader | wc. 9.1Kaeya

disclaimer. if you haven't read any of these manhwas, don't worry, i won't spoil the story that much anyway. this fic will only be based on the manhwa and I'll try to explain it as the best I can do. and the first few bulleted paragraphs are the overview of the manhwa or the character.

note. this is genius level idea. thank you for requesting, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this prompt and reach 10k words lmao. I never got to write for razor 'cuz I still have to continue reading beware of the villainess but I do have an idea for bennett (my sec fav dps) in this prompt. i might do a part 2 with diluc who knows

cw. psychological, suggestive themes, yandere, childe

main m.list genshin m.list

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 / 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 as 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐘 !

Not a single soul in the Empire does not know the fierce infatuation you harbor for the young Duke Alatus of Kedrey Dukedom. From his stunning golden eyes and dark green hair, everywhere he goes demands spotlight.

Ever since you caught the sight of him in one of the balls you were attending, you clung onto him like a leech, always closing the proximity, writing letters, and initiating conversation with him in hopes he'll reciprocate your feelings

Every interaction fills you with contentment and confidence. You're the eldest child of the Emperor, dignified, stunning and kind. Who wouldn't want an Imperial Nobility like you?

However, you've gotten way too engrossed for your undying love for him that you swept away the constant threat looming above you and your title as the Imperial Nobel.

The ballroom shimmers with golden lights, and the air buzzes with the sound of laughter and polite conversation with the soft hum of elegant music relaxing the nerves in the background, setting the perfect backdrop for the prestigious event where the whole Royal Family would be making an appearance.

Most notable Royal Family member to present was Y/N L/N, whom the rumors were circulating about of plausible marriage proposal to a certain Duke, unsurprisingly.

"Alatus!" You maneuvered your way to him, seemingly shameless for calling his name without his title before it.

"Your Highness." He greeted in such a desultory tone that anyone can deduce he's anything but ecstatic to see you.

You've known how distant and cold he acts toward everybody, but you were cursed with such a dense mind to comprehend he doesn't treat you any different; his stiff actions like simple greeting and short response equates how much he craves to stay furtive, contorted expressions and averting gazes are him expressing his displeasure in your presence and he definitely ignores your letters.

And yet you hope you can change his views of you by approaching him because of your burgeoning feelings. It didn't cross your mind how much he values his personal space and kept on insisting your infatuation, unbeknownst how much it irritates him.

"I'm glad you are here. Did you read my letters? I was hoping for your reply since last month but you remained unresponsive. I thought you might have been busy so you forgot to reply." You rambled on and on, you're too close for his liking but out of respect to your title as the Imperial Highness, Alatus stays silent.

One of the attendants offered you a chocolate dessert and you ate without regards, even offering one to the Duke. "I'm not a fan of sweets, Your Highness." He refused, eyes twitching.

"Oh? I apologize for that. It seems— *COUGH*"

For once, one expression painted the Duke's face out of all the times he wears his stoic facade. However, you don't know if you should be glad he's looking at you like that, he looks mortified.

"Imperial Highness! Quick! Fetch the doctor!" A Duchess yelled with clear distraught as she watches you slumped over the floor, coughing blood and alarmingly paling each second.

This incident is quite common amongst nobles.

You were poisoned.

Whoever did such thing never got to register in your brain as the poison intensifies and you doubled over from the scorching pain. Black dots danced in your vision, tempting to lure your eyes to close and pain only pushed you to do so

You barely registered the rushing footsteps of the guards or the nobles screaming before darkness greeted you like an old friend.

The Imperial Palace busied themselves for the recovery of the eldest royal, it even for busier when you were comatose. Security has been tight since then, there were more than necessary numbers of guards stationed outside your room.

Duke Alatus seems neutral with everything, rumors spread among the nobels that he never care for their highness, Y/N.

While it is true that he shows nothing but malice towards your incongruous advances, he does appreciate your efforts of getting closer on a microscopic level and deep down, there's a tinge of concern pricking his numb heart.

Still, his hatred and pride overpowers his concern, he never once visited you, not that visitors are allowed in the Imperial Palace anyway.

He does ask his informants regarding of your health condition. No one can gauge what thoughts running in his mind when he does so much as stare at the informant with a straight face.

And then one day, he received the news of your recovery, that you're finally awake.

You've been awakened by a startling nightmare that rattled your mind awake. For a comatose person in a cool air room, your forehead is sedimented with perspiration and all you can think of is how to escape from your wretched room.

Your maid came in only to react in astonishment to see you sitting up. When she asks how are you faring, you responded neither politely nor dismissively, when the doctor checked your vitals, you didn't throw a tantrum like you always do.

Behind your veil is a person desperate to survive the Imperial Palace before another catastrophic event occurs in the near future. You have to change your ways, it is for your benefit anyway.

The maid was suspicious of your every changing behavior as you were known for beautiful and luxurious nobel who throws jaundiced looks on anyone who do so much as to stare at Alatus.

Speaking of the Duke, you only realize he has no intention of reciprocating your feelings through the maids during your comatose state because there are times you lay there immobilized but your sense of hearing never fails you.

It was a bitter reality, you genuinely feel infatuated to the Duke and want nothing more but to know him better.

Unfortunately, your ways of showing affection is not appreciated to a man who values his dignity and protects his people first.

You chuckled at your stupidity, it was all spelled out for you to decipher but you chose to remain ignorant to the truth and now you got the deserving consequences of your actions. You suffer.

If time permits, you'd like to steer clear with Duke Alatus and seek forgiveness for the time you made him feel like an unworthy man who only attracts potential suitors by his looks and reputation.

He's so much more than that, and hopefully he'll find the right person who can show him love beyond on what you can give him.

For now you want to focus on running away from the Imperial Palace until the storm passes.

Weeks flew by and you've been attending more social balls to tell the whole empire that you've survived the assassination attempt, to convey nothing can hold you down. But to also give you enough time to map your escape in the palace.

It's not an easy task to fly away from the palace with the noble title on your head. Therefore, you would need someone to help you get away legally.

"M-Marriage?" Sputtered the Duke Alatus.

So much for asking for his forgiveness.

"I'm aware it sounds a salacious scheme to tie you down with me and I can only offer you my sincere words that I no longer bear any infatuation toward you, Duke. I've accepted the fact you have no room for romance and moved on. I hope you do the same and accept this contract. It's beneficial for both parties."

Sure it sounds like a scam and Alatus doesn't want to end up like his friend, Zhongli, who gets scam from left and right.

What baffles him is you sitting with such poise and authority that he no longer can see the past you who kept chasing him for answers to your confessions. You've matured. Mature enough to handle a crucial negotiation.

And it raises the question.

What happened?

He only knows you as the Royal Noble who follows him with lovesick eyes. He wasn't informed you could be downright. . . sexy.

"Your face is red, Duke. Is everything alright?"

"Yes." A pragmatic answer coming from a man punching himself on his mind for thinking lewd things about you.

"I'm not expecting a direct answer now, Duke. Take as much time as you need, but be reminded that I also have limited time. If you are not able to give me your answer within a month, I'll exterminate our negotiation and never speak it ever again."

Silence reigned supreme, the Duke's face never betrayed any emotion while you held your head high as you sip your tea. "I hope to hear your answer soon, Duke Alat—"

"I accept."

You blinked comically. "I beg your pardon?"

"I accept your offer."

"W-What? Are you certain?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms. "I am a soldier, everything I do is with certainty. I do not rush nor stall."

Your eyes escaped his scrutinizing gaze and slapped yourself at the back of your mind. Who were you kidding, of course Alatus wouldn't waste time and prefer to give direct answer. Times like this make you realize you don't know him at all and yet you claimed that you love him. Embarrassing.

"I understand. Starting tomorrow we are publicly a couple within 6 months, you help me with my escape and I'll help you in your foreign affairs under the Royal family's name."

You stuck your hand out for him to shake. "I'll be in your care."

"As I am."

Headline: "Royal Highness Y/N L/N and Duke Alatus Kedrey relationship has recently caused rumors to suggest their Highness Y/N has eloped with the Duke."

"This is an overkill." A nervous chuckle rumbled from you.

"I think it's justifiable." Countered the Duke.

"I believe so. What worries me is your take in this."

A frown settled deep in his eyebrows. "Worried?"

You mirrored his expression. "This headline would most likely attract journalists to interview you, possibly even dig your background to quench their thirst for answers." You paused and walked ahead of him in the garden.

"Knowing you don't like anyone to probe into your private life, it worries me to think about the plausible frauds you'll experience." You couldn't see his expression as you sighed.

Unbeknownst to you, his face is crunched up, forming an expression of what you can call it. . . confusion? Your words perplexed him to a whole new degree.

Weeks ago you were throwing yourself at him, you could care less of his feelings and only care for him to love you back, you did unimaginable things that he finds pathetic. You were selfsh, self-centered and other synonymous words.

But now. . .

Alatus sighed, massaging his temples. No use of thinking hard about their change, it could be a facade to let my guard down. As if that would ever happen anyway.

"I am not worthy of your concern, Your Highness. Please be rest assured that mere words won't affect this contract."

"Y/N."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Y/N when we're in public. It'd cause a stir if a couple address each other formally. Would it be alright if I call you by your first name?"

Again, you're being unusually solicitous for him. He was too stunned to speak and you took it as a negative sign.

"Do tell me when you're comfortable enough to let me call—"

"Why are you like this?" He bluntly asked.

You blinked owlishly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Why are you pretending to be nice?"

You inwardly sighed. Of course there's no way he'll fall for your 'nice change' if anything, it made him more suspicious of your behavior. But really, you're showing genuine care for his needs and always try your best to assist him.

"I highly doubt you remember our first meeting, for you it might've been the worst day of your life. For me? It was the opposite."

"What?"

"My father is not as loving and caring for most people would think. Oh no, he's far from those, he's cruel and abusive." Alatus' eyes sharpened at the indication of domestic violence.

"He only saw me as a child who'd bring glory to the Empire, he cares for what value I can impart on behalf of his reputation. I have the beauty after all, but not the brains nor brawns. And he couldn't be satisfied with it." A bitter chuckle came from you.

"When I saw you at the ball, I was mesmerized like most men and women at first glance. You're dignified, strong, insightful and top of that you're undeniably gorgeous. I admire you like the rest of the population because you have everything my father wanted from me. I thought all those qualities were unreachable, and yet you exist. You made me feel inferior and I became insecure of myself. I only have my pretty face, without it I'm nothing but a disposable ornament. Do you know who poisoned me that night?"

He says nothing for a little while. He knew the answer right before you even asked. "Your father." There's a bite in his words.

"Perceptive as always, Duke Alatus." He couldn't match your careless words. If he was perceptive he would've figure out you feel threatened at your own home. He— Archons! He's pissed!

And for what reason? He asked himself.

"I pursued you since then, thinking my father would change the way he treats me if I had you with me, a perfect son-in-law— maybe then he'd look the way I expect a loving father would." Fists clenched, you tightly closed your eyes.

"I was a fool, alright. When he realized you're not interested in me, he deemed me worthless, hence why I was poisoned. He wanted to eliminate a thing that has no value anymore. It took me years to realize that he would never love me. No one would."

You've never experienced love, let alone how to show it properly. Only the Duke Alatus ever made you feel like a human worthy of showing basic manners to you without the influence of your title.

Your first meeting with him left a huge impression. It was at your debutant party, nobles attended and gossips were shared. A night that should've your spotlight, but it felt far from it.

For instance, you constantly felt out of place, as if you don't really belong in the social groups of nobility. Which was richly hypocritical, considering you also had an appetite for attention over individuality. The dichotomy left you uncertain on many occasions and you felt obligated to mask yourself behind a much more "proper" exterior. You can't define what's exactly proper, and so you would always second guess everything you do as feeble as greeting a new face and ask yourself if it's at their satisfactory.

At the end of the night, no one even noticed the star of the night had gone missing amidst their debut celebration. All except one.

Perched on the rim of the fountain, your bare feet submerged in the pool of water.

The cold sensation is strangely comforting, add the cool breeze of the night and you feel oddly at peace. Somehow contradictory to what you've read in romance books that people under stress usually crave the warmth of their partner. Perhaps the absence of love made you hunger for whatever's available for comfort, starving people will eat anything after all.

"Reduced to just sitting around. How absurd."

A frightening shriek escaped your lips, you made a hasty turn as the water splashed as you move. But that soon morphed in relief, the man in front of you impose no danger, if anything you'd feel the safest in his presence.

Duke Alatus is revered as the Hero in his Liyue Empire, the strongest fighter and apparently most handsome man to exist. And boy do those rumors did him any justice.

You've seen him from afar and couldn't help but fall for him at first sight, you wanted to get closer but you were always reminded how worthless you are and that someone like him would never bother batting their eyes to you.

And yet, he's here. In the flesh.

"What are you doing here?" You praised yourself for not stuttering in his presence. He merely shrugged before standing a few meet away from where you're sitting.

"I missed the chance to greet the host a blessed birthday, only to know that they've disappeared. Do you have a habit of playing hide and seek among your peers?" The satirical undertone must've flew over your ear and you looked at him, slightly aghast.

"H-How did you know I wasn't there?"

No one paid attention to you. So why would he?

He sighed, "Didn't you hear me? I was going to greet you but you somehow vanished in your party."

"You searched for me?"

He scoffed, "I'm here, aren't I? What kind of host would leave their debutante party behind?"

"You could've gone with your evening without pleasantries. It wouldn't reflect on your reputation, only mine, so why bother go all through this trouble to find me?" He gave you a blank look, but his eyes blinked in slight disbelief at your query.

"It wasn't trouble finding you, really. . . unless you prefer being alone at the moment, I can leave."

"No! I mean — ehem. . . you can stay." You muttered, an underlying embarrassment was present in your voice.

He perched an eyebrow. "You are an odd one as the rumors say."

It was a turning point to you. Being emotionally repressed and touch starved you are, you wanted more after the first sign of attention from him.

He gave you an ounce of your need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be worthy of someone's time. It was enough for you to take it as a sign to pursue him.

But you realized a little too late that he would never reciprocate your feelings and the so-called "love" you have for him is the result of years being deprived from any compassion. You've mistaken hunger for love.

"Now you know the reason behind my desperation of escape and the need to change in order to succeed. Truthfully, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing of being considerate and all that. I have to apologize for making such attempts without researching." You made a mental note to visit the library later.

"Anyway, I've said many things today. Let's settle — OMPH!"

A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and you were pulled backwards, only to softly bumped against a firm chest. "H-Huh? What's the matter, Duke?" You dumbly asked as you tilted your head up to glance at him.

His bangs shrouded whatever expression he has on his face. "You have my permission to call me Alatus, be it in public or private."

"Oh, OK." You're quite baffled what his actions are supposed to convey. Isn't he supposed to dislike physical contact?

"I first saw you as an incompetent noble, a typical royalty who's strength is heavily reliant on outward beauty." Damn, you should add straightforwardness in your compliments for him. "I've seen pretty faces everywhere, yours is nothing special."

"I've heard enough!" You tugged away from his grip, stinging tears threaten to fall. To think your only strength has been trampled on just like that feels like your hope vanishing. Your face is your only gateway to freedom and it—

"Tis why I am amazed to see you acquiring new strengths in your arsenal." E/C eyes found themselves clashing with Alatus' golden hues, there's a glint of emotion you couldn't decipher.

"Your Hi — Y/N, I promise to get you out of this hellhole. Our contract can exceed the 6 month rule for all I care." A blooming emotion spreads in you. He cares enough to finally notice you and your pain, and he's here to help you.

Don't get the wrong idea, self. He's helping me as an ally because he has a good heart. But I know I don't deserve someone so kind and he doesn't deserve someone so broken. I understand our fate is only meant for this; my savior and his misfortune.

You sighed as you remind yourself with that set boundaries. "You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you, Alatus."

"There's nothing to be grateful for. I'm happy to help someone in need, it's more than enough."

You smiled. And his heart skipped a beat.

A pretty face with a genuine bright grin.

You're beautiful when you're being you.

No bitterness. No ill-concealed pain. He has to rethink his words about your ''mediocre'' beauty.

It pisses me off when you sell yourself short with degrading thoughts, you're no mere ornament. You deserve to be loved, Y/N. I admire your strength and determination. You're a lot stronger than I was when I needed the strength to fight, you're someone I aimed to be in my darkest time. So, keep going and don't ever hesitate to call my name for help.

Little did they both know, Y/N was falling out of love while Alatus is falling in.

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐈!𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 as 𝐑𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 !

Many wise nobles would not dare cross paths with Prince Scaramouche Hill, his temperamental issues and rude behavior garnered him the reputation of a tyrant, but Y/N L/N had never counted themselves among the very wise.

You're the main character in every horror movie that instead of getting away from the first sign of danger, you run towards it because. . . why not? Where's the story if they'd just run away?

Wouldn't you guess it. You accepted his marriage proposal.

Now the question lingers: WHY?!

"Now, now. . . There is no need for such hasty decisions, for if such marriage were to be cancelled, then so too would the beneficial ties between our families. Is this what you truly want? A marriage for political convenience is what is being sought here, not love."

His ingenious words has been embedded in your mind ever since you avidly rejected the marriage proposal from the Empress herself. Making it much more difficult to retire on grounds of a healthy rejection was a rather callous way of dealing with part of the problem when the Prince himself outrightly called you out.

From the get-go, he was a walking red flag blessed with bewitching charms that you have fallen victim to. You've heard the rumors, he's anything but a saint, his looks might say otherwise but you've acquainted with his ugly side to conclude that your life will be full of thorns once you've wed.

This callous sentiment should chill you — maybe it would, if you heeded the alarm bells ringing in your mind — but fascination triumphs over any deterrent. What would it be like to get to know this Prince? Can I make this marriage work?

#icanfixhim

The wedding ceremony went smoothly, vows were pronounced and rings were exchanged. Though the two of you never really said it aloud, you both weren't ready for the. . . "marital duties"

For tonight, the servants prepared the room the newlyweds will share with unimaginable extravagance, there were rose petals littered in a heart shaped in your bed, candles on each of the bedside table and two bottles of what it looks like strong liquor across the room, definitely intended.

You entered the shared room gripping your nightwear and promptly chugging down the liquor at your leisure.

Scaramouche is yet to come in this new room, part of you hoped you'll be too drunk to fulfill the marital duties. But as you look at the window, mirroring your inner turmoil, you know it's pointless.

It’s a moonless night, heavy with the weight of regret, shattered dreams and a long road of loveless marriage.

You clutched the remnants of your sanity and drowned yourself in the bitter solace of liquid courage to feel the emotions you’d been avoiding. If you'll lose everything in one night, might as well be under the influence to numb the feelings away.

The bottle was harshly snatched from your hand. "Do you plan to do this while you are drunk? Is this what they have taught you?" Came from your new husband.

The liquor did the best job to give you the courage to speak up to him, something that you lacked when he snagged your confidence at the lowest as you rejected this marriage.

"Someone has to be educated in the bedroom?" There's a sardonic undertone as you sway your head. "Well, pardon me, Prince. You barged in my home, proposed this bullshit and expect me to be knowledgeable in the art of pleasure in one week?"

You drunkenly stood up and mustered your best glare-that-can-put-you-sixfeet-under. "You. . . I gave you a benefit of a doubt and accepted this marriage thinking you're a subject of those biased rumors, but you absolutely pale in comparison."

This is where you're expecting expletives insults from him, his pride has been put to the test and Scaramouche was not known for his leniency.

In your drunken stupor, only the blur outline of his masculinity shadows your figure. Before you could retort anything else, he had lunged himself to you, specifically towards your lips.

Surprised marred your drunken face, what's more surprising was how gentle he moved his lips with yours, you'd expect him to be rough in intimacy which what greatly contributed to your anxiety but his gentle actions made you think otherwise.

Are we really doing this?

A hand cupped your cheek as if guiding you to tilt your head to the side while yours gripped the bed sheets. His lips traversed the corner of your lips down to your jaw, rendering you speechless as breathy moans escaped.

He must have noticed your reaction and promptly detached himself from you and you can finally breathe.

"I'm only marking you," His voice was incredibly soft, it was like another soul possessed his body, "We both don't want this. . . whether by obligation or not and I won't cross it. At least by marking you, it'll make people think we have done it."

Scaramouche raised your chin slightly and lifted your face towards him. Now both your faces were looking at each other. He was staring deep into your eyes, as if he was looking for your permission.

There's a certain way Scaramouche takes in your appearance — a thorough observation that doesn't miss the smallest detail about you.

What he sees are things he's familiar with. An enticing body and face which speaks of power and a strong will. A sharp mind, which makes him feel he's found an equal in intelligence. Someone who he wouldn't have to manipulate or trick into submission. . . because he knows he could get there with affection and a proper hand. And, perhaps above all, the way you look at him. As he does to you. . . there's a burning desire.

Why does he have to make this difficult for me?

His hands slide over your body in a smooth, slow way which makes your mind go numb. His hands cup you and caress the shape of your form. Your eyes close as his hands take their place in your hair. . . holding it like a trophy.

With the way he was raised by the Empress, Raiden Shogun, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Scaramouche views you as a property to own rather than a living human who possessed feelings.

The taste, the feeling of his lips against your neck, his breath against your neck. It's intoxicating. . . and leaves you gasping for more and your stomach fluttering. You feel his lips trail towards your neck, and just when you thought he'd move up to your lips — he sinks his teeth in just enough to leave a mark without hurting you.

"This should be enough."

As quickly as he left the mark so was his presence in the room as he hastily stood up and left without making so much noise.

The morning after your consummation, you thought he might treat you a little better than before but he seemed to have reversed back to his old self once again. Archons!

When nothing goes his way he'll use you as a ventilation, and you took every jabbing words and flying objects thrown. You never once complained, not when you know his soft side.

Pitied looks and whispers of sympathy were your daily highlights, everyone in the castle knows how badly the Prince has been treating you since the first day. But that's not true, he treated you like a human on your consummation night, he was more than a Prince with temper tantrums.

If only you can understand His Highness, though. Try as you might. . . You just didn't get him. It seemed like he was made up of several personalities that were constantly getting in each other's way.

"Fuck." Scaramouche was now slumped on the floor.

It was one of those days he'd use you as his target of frustration, nothing new. Scaramouche has tendency to temper tantrums. But today, his eyes brimmed with tears.

Scaramouche himself probably wasn't aware of his vulnerability, he would immediately leave your room and do god knows what.

"Your Highness?" Your meek voice was barely comprehensible in his ears, he was visibly trembling with his head tucked in his arms.

"Go away!" Despite his harsh refute, there's an underlying tone of a defeated man. It hurts to see him like this, nobody deserves to experience pain no matter the circumstances of their birth — Scaramouche shouldn't be an exception to this.

"But you're in pain." You frowned deeply and kneeled beside his trembling form, far enough to not trigger his fight or flight instinct.

"I'm always in pain!" He was shouting and mumbling to himself, but it didn't slip past your senses that he was almost whining about his situation, similar to a child crying out for his mother.

"You don't have to be if you let people help you."

"Help me. . .?" He reiterated the words as if it's in foreign language.

A sense of dread flood your senses as you silently gulped, but you remained rooted in your spot beside him.

"Yes, I know you're not used to it, you're probably denying it in your head as I speak. I won't force you to seek help, but know that someone would be willing to help you." Lies, he knew your words were baseless reassurance to make him feel better.

"Yeah, and I treat you well." He sputtered those words with condescending ire and finally look up to you with so much loathsome in his purple eyes. "You're no different than the people who have deceived me."

Your eyebrows shot in surprise. So he had people who took him for granted? It's no wonder he was shaped like this — spiteful and vindictive. It was easier for him like this, to let people hate him than take advantage of whatever's left of him.

"I'm not deceiving you, Your Highness. I'm willing to help you."

"Do you take me as an idiot? Words hold no value or truth behind them." He spat bitterly and a firm scowl marred his expression before he sauntered to the exit.

"Willing?" He scoffed and finally stood up, unraveling his height that was only inch taller than yours. "Don't make me laugh, people like you always have ulterior motives to help."

"I'm not like one of those people. I give you my word for that."

"Your words prove me nothing. Get out of my sight!"

"But this is my room. . ."

His eyes twitched. "This is our room."

"Okay! I'll go!" You surrendered and stumbled your way out of the room without looking back.

Scaramouche wasn't aware when it began, he does know the feeling started off as a small simmer from a pot of heated water. He finds himself beginning to notice every small detail of you.

It began with him noticing the small dimples on your cheek when you smile or laugh with your full heart instead of the prim and proper laugh from etiquette lessons.

He noticed your habits depending on your mood — your hands become restless when anxious, your eyes dart anywhere but his eyes when you're uncomfortable, or the way you bit your lip when feeling awkward.

Is this. . .

Love. Scaramouche hated that word for love is always affiliated with trust which both reeked of vulnerability, and the sort of emotion that the Prince couldn't afford to display — not when all it had ever done in the past was cause him torment. The past, he had felt resentful because the Empress had handed over too much baggage unilaterally to him — his Princely upbringing, the sole heir duties, arranged marriage. Damn it all.

Thereafter, he had acquired unnecessary headaches from his supposed spouse. He had wrongly assumed your character, for after showing you early signs of his apparent animosity, it only fed your burning curiosity.

He was quick to chalk it up as your naivety, you did reject the proposal for the sole purpose of finding true love.

Only fools would expect love from a mere paper contract. If he had any sympathy left he would gladly drown you with it.

But his assumptions got stomped when you displayed regal actions against the nobles who badmouthed you about the marriage. It was expected that negative rumors would spread and most people would merely pretend they're deaf. You, on the other hand, confronted them and stood up for yourself.

You're far from naive, it seems. If not naive, then what's driving you to endure his treatment and keep leeching from him? The question blanketed his mind for weeks.

You, who's ever curious about the Prince and the the said Prince befuddled by your actions. Put it together and it creates subtle transition in your relationship.

He starts letting you engage him in conversations, as silly as they were sometimes. His answers were still brimming with condescension and ire, but somehow you couldn't shake the feeling that they somehow lacked the bite. . . the intention to hurt.

Or maybe you were just too numb to register it. Either way, you're liking the subtle changes in your relationship.

"HEY!" You gasped and bolt right up, trickle of perspiration on your temples. "W-What. . .?"

Scaramouche was beside you, his usual glare plastered on his face, but his hands are drawing circles on your back, soothing your labored breaths.

For every shift, there's the touch of his hand, the sound of his smooth voice that promises to protect you. His eyes follow you even in your shaking — the light reflected in them assuring that they won't disappear.

"Relax, reality is more often terrifying than nightmares."

Very reassuring.

Scaramouche's expression is somber as he regards you in the dark. There's a bit of hesitation before he reaches out to you. . . embracing you, like a blanket being your safe haven from the Boogeymen.

"I'm here, there's no need to fear." He whispered quietly as his grasp adjusts to be gentler against the softness of your skin as you trembled.

This is him. This is Scaramouche Hill.

This is what you were curious and hoping to see from him. No pedantical micromanagement, no cruelty born of mistrust and ill experience. Just Scaramouche, passionate, attentive and content. Kind in his own way, sardonic and inquisitive, not as selfish as everyone assumed. It was such a privilege to see it.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 as 𝐉𝐄����𝐄𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 !

They say there's a fine line between sanity and madness — Childe Agriche has a foot on both sides. And as the youngest son in the House of Black Agriches, he's the most 'normal' and 'enthusiastic' being you can meet in the manor.

You were a simple commoner who heard the rumors circulating the Black Agriches, if it taught you anything is that Agriches repay kindness with gold and insults with death. Yeah, a family you won't dare to cross with.

Apparently you don't share the same sentiment as your parents as they were too deep of their dept with the Agriche.

But they were spared and in exchange of their mercy, your parents sold you off with them to work in their house. They didn't even bat an eye and shoved you down to your knees.

You felt every kinds of betrayal that exist and snitched on your parents by exposing them of their illegal deeds and what they did to their money that put them in that situation.

Enraged, the head of the Agriche swiftly beheaded them and took you in the manor. It was a relatively quiet mansion, you thought you were going to die in the next few hours but you found yourself suddenly face to face with gleaming mischievous cerulean eyes that seems to enrapture you.

"Who you might be? A new toy for my siblings?" His jovial tone makes you think he's such a harmless creature, which was proven incorrect when he suddenly revealed of wanting you as his pet.

Did he mean slave? Surely he won't potty train you or tell you to sit and roll in front of strangers like a child(e), would he?

"Stand down, Childe. This is Y/N, a new addition of our workers." His father introduced before lighting a cigarette.

He scoffed, "We already have so many workers. Why don't they just become my pet instead?" You had to hold back the broadening of your eyes at this. What on Earth is wrong with these people?

The head of the Agriche merely shrugged as he waves a dismissive hand. "Do what you want." Your heart dropped at the nonchalant response. It'd be better if you get to work in the mansion, not be someone's slave.

An arm was suddenly draped over your shoulders. "Awesome! My name is Childe Agriche, you're now my new pet. So, let me break it down for you; you obey, reward. You disobey, punishment. Simple."

Did I mention he enjoys toying with his victims and making them his pet? Pet, as in putting a collar and chaining you up in the basement? And what was that again? He's supposed to be the most normal?

You're either stuck in a room where he claims to be your cage or following him in around the manor with the collar still on.

At first, you were scared what he might do to you, but it turns out he really honors his words. You obey him and nothing bad will ever happen to you. It really is that simple as he said.

You've heard how other Agriches tend to torture their pets for doing mistakes or even obeying as they're told. You haven't seen the display of power within the Agriches for Childe insists you stay in your cellar room, but the rumors you've heard guaranteed your every caution in meeting new people in the manor, even a maid.

With Childe, however, it doesn't automatically warrant punishment for a simple mistake. He opts to teach you what's right and wrong.

It's unbelievable how patient he is with you, it's more unbelievable to think he's an Agriche with this kind of attitude.

One day, he entered your cell and announced that you'll be living together with him in his room. The collar will have to remain for the sake of your 'safety' as he claimed. Thus, you found yourself laying on a thin satin silk mattress that left no little discomfort.

It didn't seem like he has many tasks to deal within the household, he'd occasionally be away for a few hours before returning bloody murder with crimson stains on his royal clothes.

Driven by a tinge of concern, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking. "What happened? Are you alright?" It was the first time you had seen him what the rumors would potray about him.

His eyebrows furrow in bafflement. "You're. . . asking me if I'm alright?" He asked, almost in disbelief that such question exists.

"Of course! Look at your clothes. How can you expect me not to worry?" Your courageous episode ended when you realized the mistake, you lowered your head. "I apologize. I didn't mean to come out as impudent—"

Your statement was cut short when a cold hand grasped your chin and tilt your head up. Those cerulean eyes never fails to instill the butterflies in your stomach.

"I didn't realize how cute you are until now." His voice dropped a few octaves low it sent shivers in your spine, "Nobody has ever asked about my health, and then there's you — chained up in my bed, concern for me." He chuckled, the type of chuckle that tells you he enjoys a good prey, that he likes how far you will go for him— he's testing you.

Even being concern can get you in trouble?! What's next? I'm getting punished just by breathing?!

"I don't mean no harm." Your demure voice only made him more elated.

"Oh, dear Y/N. Even if you do, there's no way you can land a hit on me," he paused, swiping his tongue out to wet his lower lip. "But fortunately, I'm a masochist myself. I might allow you to bite me if you behave~"

He really is an Agriche.

"Getting back. Are you really OK?" It took every innermost strength in you to divert the topic.

In response, he flashed you a cheeky smile before his hand slowly descended on the base of your neck. Latching his gloved fingers around until he's holding you in a chokehold.

He hasn't done anything, yet your breath hitched.

"You're so small and vulnerable, I can easily snap your neck like this." Proving his point, he added pressure which now made you choke and clasped your hands on his wrist out of reflex. "And yet, you're asking me if I'm OK?"

The pressure on your neck didn't loosen one bit, it feels like he has no intention of actually hurting you, just setting an example of what he can potentially do to you.

You barely can breath, not only because of his hold on your neck, but also the fact he's unbearably close your breaths are mingling as you exhale. You feel like fainting.

"B-Because I don't like seeing you hurt!"

His expression dropped instantaneously. An undecipherable emotion passed his countenance as his strands casted shadow over his blue eyes.

"T-Tartaglia?" Was his alter ego.

He insisted on you calling him by that name.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you care?"

You ask yourself the same question, any sane person wouldn't think twice to care for a cold hearted killer, but any sinner like him wouldn't treat you with such kindness.

"Is such reason needed? I saw you stained with blood, it's natural for me to fret."

". . ."

". . ."

"Aww~" He cooed, finally loosening the hold on your neck.

What an odd reaction. You took a huge inhale and nearly slide down as your knees weakened, but he has his arm around you to keep your equilibrium in balance.

You felt his gloved hand tilting your chin up, his bright blue eyes swirled with emotions you couldn't deduce.

Everything he's doing alerts your senses to run, but your body just craves for more of his touch. Archons above! I'm losing my mind! The way he looks you like a predator — a hungry and sadistic animal, looking to ravage your soul. He's a dangerous, charismatic and highly intelligent man. A twisted fantasy.

"You know what, you'll be my significant other!"

"WHAT?!"

"And you should call me Ajax from now on, too!"

How many names does he have?!

The next thing you know was Childe's entire personality shifting. He freed you from the chains and treats you like a true royalty. Childe innate possessiveness of you increased tenfold after he was exposed to your gentle side.

Overwhelming was the right word for what you felt after a few days of his behavior.

But your "boyfriend" kept insisting in gift giving, it's his primary love language. You mentioned your favorite food? He'll have it on the dining table. You fancy a clothing? Consider the whole shop yours. Someone being an asshole to you? Expect a dried head by your doorstep.

Make no mistake in kidnapping his S/O — he'll rain down all kinds of hell. Sadly (not really) some people just don't heed warnings and accept death so readily.

The temperature in the room seemed to grow colder in cadence with the ice in Childe's gaze. "You mean to tell me, that you are all incompetent to do a simple task of guarding my room where my S/O was? And now they're gone?"

*SPLAT* *THUMP*

One head rolled over

Nobody breathed.

"For every minute you fail to bring the culprit in my playroom equates for a head. If I happen to find them before any of you — don't expect a one way to ticket to hell. I will guarantee to entertain all of you along with the perpetrators."

Childe Agriche loves to play and this was one of his games. Touche! As if he can expect those vacuous idiots to find Y/N.

The door closed with an ominous boom that echoed throughout what sounded like a massive but empty chamber.

Childe knew anger, he was well acquainted with the said red emotion but he had always try to mask it under the pretense of a funny and boisterous man. This time however, he's been uncharacteristically calm and everyone in the manor feels like walking on a tip of a knife.

They wouldn't understand, none of those imbeciles would know what it feels to be with Y/N. He scoffed as he sharpens his arrowhead before placing it in his quiver. There was no time to waste, he wants you back in his arms.

And he did.

With bloodshed, of course.

"GAHHH!"

Childe moved swiftly and gracefully, so much so they had trouble keeping up with him. He came up behind one of the culprits the one that was holding you captive, and broke his neck rather quickly before slashing at another who was nearby.

He quickly ducked, avoiding the enemy coming up from behind, and grabbed his arm, flipping him over, and pinning him down. Suddenly a loud shrill was heard as a bone cracked, and then he moved on the other.

Blood dripped from his fingers, but before a drop could even hit the floor, he’d already struck dead another one, splattering even more blood. One by one the went down, until they’d all been wiped out, annihilated by their supposed prey. They were outmatched by the youngest Agriche.

And by the glint in Childe’s cerulean eyes, he was clearly enjoying the thrill of the kill. The Agriche barely even broke a sweat, his breathing remaining even despite the number of men he had been fighting against him.

Against the occluded moon, he stalked towards your unconscious form and lifted you bridal style, Childe looked more like a predator than a lover, a hunt ending with the prey pinned and helpless. The smell of death permeated the frigid air. Only corpses lay around him.

Holding the unconscious Y/N in his arms, his expression did not once flinch. It was as if he was only holding a feather. Amidst the night, his figure glided on the ground agile and light, before finally disappearing behind the shadows of the nearby trees. . .

You woke up a little disgruntled and already felt the pain in your head flaring as soon as you forced yourself awake. So much for being Childe's S/O, it comes with a free package of his enemies hunting you down.

"Y/N, you're awake." You heard an unusually soft voice beside you as you felt the bed shifts in weight followed by a bone crushing hug from your-supposed-lover.

Pain flared in your abdomen and you had to bite back a grimace. "I swear you're not leaving my sight ever again." His breath is like the scent of night-blooming jasmine on the breeze: soft and soothing, yet sweet and enticing, effectively distracting you from the pain.

If you only you had witnessed the bloodshed you would think twice than to fall for his honeyed words.

"Y-You have blood on your clothes. . ." The indication of your query made him smirked. "It's my trophy."

You decided not to probe any further. In his language, that meant another massacre to stain his clothes and it only means whoever abducted you reached the other side as such a young age.

"Thank you for saving me. . ."

His eyes softened as he chuckled. "You're thanking the same man who shed blood for you?"

"I'm thanking the man who cares enough about me." You refuted.

You were too absorbed in hugging him back that you failed to notice the eerie smile on his lips. His next words were spoken next to your ear, laced with obvious unhinged obsession over you.

"Right, I'm the only one who would save you in face of danger and care for your well-being. No other people can do as much as I can for you, so stay with me forever, Y/N."

Was it your imagination or did you just see a psychotic grin?

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 as 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 !

How atrocious can your life get when you learned the news of your husband handpicking a concubine for himself, then the said trash woman actually has the guts to call you her in-law just because you have the same husband.

Now, you pride yourself for being patient, courageous and intelligent. You wouldn't have ruled an empire if it wasn't for your educated upbringing. But even a ruler like you can feel overwhelmed and burned out, and would find a temporary solace to cry your heart out.

The fact your husband picking his concubine is not the issue inconveniencing you the most. It was his and that man-stealer attitude is what suffocated you the most.

Outrageous to see the trash playing the victim card and shedding fat crocodile tears just to earn your husband's favor. Audacious to think of herself as the same level as you when she doesn't even know basic etiquette rules and the difference between a garbage and herself. Humiliating on how he made you a fool on many occasions and sided with his mistress while everyone whispered on how the Emperor favored his concubine over his own S/O.

And he dare say you're not allowed to have an affair?

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Which lead you in a secluded forest to vent out your feelings and temporarily get away from all that's happening in the palace. You're perched beside a rock while your head is tucked in your crossed arms, burying your head, silently weeping in the depths of the green environment.

*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*

You reluctantly raise your head to investigate the noise, of course you knew it was some type of bird, but you were curious what type of bird it was as you rarely get to visit nature. You'd appreciate a little company even if it's from an avian creature.

Majestic, charming, jaw dropping, and everything synonymous to the word beautiful can be attached to this mystical bird.

What caught your attention the most was its beautiful midnight blue and cerulean ombre feathers, you've never seen such bird in the books you've read let alone see one in real life. Next was its body that's bigger than your head and a wingspan that's almost in par with the length of your arms spread open. And lastly, the note tied to its leg.

"How beautiful. Will you allow me to touch you?" You didn't even notice yourself nearing the bird. A slight hesitance made you flinched when the bird nailed its bright eyes on you. Even the eyes resembled the finest jewel in your kingdom.

You retracted your hand under the assumption you had scared the bird. However, the surprise entered your face when the bird flapped its wings and perched on your suspended hand in the air. It looks like it doesn't sense you as a threat. That's a good start.

Admiring nature's blessing, you caught the note tied to its legs which made you think if this bird is a pet of some noble. "Hmm, are you lost? Based on your looks, you don't look like a wild animal that happened to stumble upon this forest by accident."

You took the note from its feet and read the content;

"I am a guest from abroad who will soon arrive at the new year's ceremony, and I write this note while drunk."

An amused chuckle left your lips as you look back at the bird who's tilting its head in curiosity of your reaction. "I'm sorry, your master sounds like an interesting person and a pain in the back. I feel bad you lost your way here. Hmm. . . should I write back?"

It wasn't even a question, you hastily fish out your pocket pen and wrote a sassy reply at the back of the piece of parchment. Hopefully it doesn't offend the owner of the bird.

You tied the note once again the rubbed its head one last time. "Off you go, little one. Deliver my message to your drunk master and fly your way back home safely."

The bird spreads its wings before taking flight.

You sighed once you lost sight of the avian creature.

Suddenly, you were harshly reminded of your duties and the circumstances you're currently in. As much as possible you don't really want to deal with another mistress-related issues within the palace and have your husband pin the blame on you. Crestfallen, you made your way back to the palace.

What you didn't know was the pair of jewel-like eyes following your movement from one of the tallest trees.

"What an interesting person." A man chuckled as he held up the note that was recently tied to his leg.

It was none other than the blue avian creature that has assumed the image of a man possessing a tanned complexion and navy-blue hair with streaks of lighter blue, accompanied by a waist-length lock of hair that's being held by a low ponytail.

As he reads the content of your message, he couldn't help but feel intrigued by what had occurred prior to you noticing his presence. Why were you crying? Crying doesn't suit a beautiful person like you, especially a sassy one at that.

"Your bird has found its way to me, if it is able to find its way back, I shall be relived, for it means it must be cleverer than its inarticulate drunk master." Sassy yet regal, indeed.

A lopsided grin adorned his lips. "So it seems I must cleverly find my way back to you if I want to see you again, Your Highness. And I must say, I love a good challenge."

Days have become grueling for you to endure, but you persevered through it all. The mistress has become more comfortable in causing ruckus in the palace just to get the Emperor's attention on her.

You don't really care about all the shenanigans she's planning to pull so long as it doesn't interfere in your line of work as a wise ruler.

Then one day, the similar bird you found in the forest came flying at your balcony and kept scratching the glass pane to get your attention.

You gasped once you realized who it was. "It's you again. How are you so good in finding me?" And it seems as though it has a new note attached to its leg.

"I'd like to think I'm a bit more intelligent than a bird. I've now woken up from my drunken stupor."

You giggled at the person's confidence. "Lumine, get me a pen and paper, will you?" You addressed to your attendant standing by the doorway.

"It seems as if you haven't woken up completely. What is the bird's name?"

Lumine, your attendant, commented at the ardor look on your face. "It's fun for you too, isn't it, Your Majesty?"

"A bit. . .?" You coyly replied, this little interaction with the bird and its master is the highlight of your day. Not even the whole mistress thing can be bothered right now.

As if challenging your thoughts, your husband walked in after you just sent away the bird with the letter of yours.

The conversation was tad too accusing, saying you're spreading rumors about the mistress to drag her down. Ha! Even if the rumors were false, it speaks volume.

You left the palace once again, to your safe haven.

It seems as though it's going to be your hobby to seclude yourself when no one's watching and let the nature be a witness of your depressive moments.

*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*

Hearing the familiar flapping, you subconsciously stretched out your arm for the bird to land.

"It's you again!"

And a new note.

"Is such thing needed? You may name it, if you'd like."

"What an indifferent master." You sighed at the response and gaze at the bird. "A kind, intelligent bird like you deserves a name which befits your character. So your name shall be. . ."

"Queen."

Unbeknownst to you, the bird bristled at the name.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Queen. I'm in good spirits now, thanks to you." You embraced the bird and pecked its beak. "I hope you will come visit me again."

The bird flew toward the inky sky. Anyone wouldn't be able to tell the slight blush coating his head.

He landed a few hectares from your and transformed back to his naked human form.

"Archons above. How could they name a man, "Queen"?" He rubbed his dark blue hair. Seemingly sheepish for being mistaken as a girl.

"What was that?" A new voice spoke.

It belonged to the red bird perched on the branches.

"You said you'd go survey the premises. Did you take another detour again?" The miffed tone is impossible to miss. He flew down and morphed to a man with luscious crimson hair that cascades down to his waist and sharp tantalizing red eyes.

"No, of course not. I went to reconnoiter the Imperial Palace."

"Did you really?"

"You don't believe me, brother?"

He gave his brother a sharp glare. "You haven't given me enough reason to. But do remember your position and responsibility, especially in this foreign country."

"I get it. Don't have to nag me, Diluc."

Kaeya Laszlo, first in line to the throne of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom. The center of many rumors, such as those which describe his great cruelty or great beauty.

A few of those say he's a Casanova, and that he associates with dangerous pirates hence why he hasn't met any woman or man of his interest.

And finally, the long awaited New Year's Ceremony came. Noble figures were all invited to celebrate the occasion with your Kingdom as the host.

As for your husband, he's quite busy mingling with his mistress and you were left with your friends.

"Dear god. How shameless is the Emperor to have the face in showing off his. . . unpalatable mistress."

"There is no need for your ire. The law states that the Emperor can take more than one spouse." A tight smile graced your lips.

One of your friends scoffed. "Even it that were the case, a man with a noble heart wouldn't take one more to fulfill his insecurities. You are more than enough and the Emperor does not deserve you."

"Greetings, Your Majesty." An elegant man gracefully interrupted your conversation with your friends.

You turn to look at the man clad in a white-blue knight uniform, specifically more stylish than what you usually on a regular knight at your Kingdom. A Prince, you concluded.

As you shift your apprehensive eyes on him, the little details such accessories and intonation caught your undivided attention.

Silver rings on those long, dexterous fingers, silver necklace around the neck that held his head way too high, silver tongue in that mouth home to all kinds of sins. He was the epitome of being devious; so much so that he could literally walk right off anything by just talking his way out of it.

"I am Kaeya Laszlo, first Prince of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom."

Everyone around you gasped and some almost fainted while you remained level-headed.

"Greetings, Prince Kaeya. I have welcomed you earlier today, but it never crossed my mind to engage a talk to such an esteemed guest of ours."

It's more like I never expected someone like you to approach me. You thought sardonically.

"Do I come off as cold to you, Your Highness? Pardon but that is not my intention, but surely you'll allow me to make worth of your time." He chuckled wistfully, a smirk has overtaken his lips.

Great God. If he endeavoured to make you fall for him as much as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You just couldn't shake off the feeling that you know this man.

Burst of giggles erupted around you while your eyebrow perched. "Cold? You don't strike me as such, if anything, your bold statement has proven me otherwise."

"Oh, and what would be your answer?"

"I—"

"Of course they agree! Please don't mind us and enjoy your evening together, Prince Kaeya!" One glare against dozens of mischievous eyes is like fighting tooth with nail.

"Shall we?" He offered his hand to guide you in his predestined destination. "I sure hope it is worthwhile, Prince Kaeya." You took his hand and my god was his hand the iceberg.

"Call me Kaeya for starters and I shall call you Y/N."

First name basis already?

"Is that a demand?"

"Does it sound like a demand?"

"It certainly does."

"Well, it is up to you to decide whether to oblige or not." He smiled.

God, it's unfair to have the blessings of charm.

"Where are we going?"

The young man beckoned his head to the exit. "Somewhere your husband won't suspect a thing."

"You really do sound like a Casanova."

"Oh dear, don't tell me you believe those hearsay."

You shrugged. "I do not, but you've been anything as what the rumors have described you thus far."

"You made me curious of you."

"How so?"

Arriving at the garden, he glances at the full moon before turning to stare right at you. "Your eyes are beautiful, yet they also look so empty oftentimes. Your movements and the way you speak are very refined and regal, but they can turn cold, or even rude at times. You're a paradox I'd love to solve, Y/N." Kaeya paused, "But I feel like you're a paradox I could never solve, no matter how hard I try."

This stare off could go on forever, if Kaeya had his way. The tension is obvious, but the air between you both is too tempting — too addicting to resist.

He doesn't look away. . . not one bit and neither do you. His eyes are fixed on yours, his breath steady and his pulse strong. A part of him wants you to make a move. . . to show that you feel as strongly for him as he feels for you.

The other part just wants to steal you away and make you his.

Spoiler alert: he did.

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓 as 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 !

It's old news for aristocratic children get engaged before they could debut. But in your case, you're not merely marrying a boy of your family's choice.

You're marrying the infamous Monstrous Crown Prince Bennett; the child who was rumored to have been cursed to bring misfortune to those around him. Thus, he has lived his entire life in the confinements of his four walls.

Fretful thoughts flooded your mind as your carriage neared his mansion. Imperial children usually stays at the Imperial Palace with the King and Queen, however in Prince Bennett's case, he was segregated to live in another mansion built specifically for him to stay out of the spotlight — or as others should say it, for him to not spread the curse of bad luck.

You don't usually treat people based on senseless rumors, but you do heed the rumors as a guide for you to be cautious. Prince Bennett is by far the most unknown factor you have to deal with despite the rumors surrounding him. What is he like? Is he a snob? Does he really bring bad luck?

Those thoughts have kept you all night that you didn't have time to sleep. Somewhere along the way, you fell in a deep slumber, ignoring the occasional jerk of the carriage as it hits a bump on the road.

Constant whimpering reminding you of a kicked puppy was what woke you up from your blissful beauty rest.

For a moment, you have forgotten what happened before you fell asleep. Through your blurried vision, you noticed the walls and ceiling looking dull with the simple light shades of painting, the bed you're resting felt foreign to the touch, the minimalist approach from the interior design and lack of other furnitures made you think you're in someone's room.

"G-Gah! Yo-You're awake. . ." A meek voice said from beside you, it's easy to mistaken it as a woman's voice if it wasn't for the boyish undertone.

You blinked several times before adjusting your sight. There's a hooded boy at the very far right of your bedside, and from the looks of it, he seemed terrified to even close an inch gap.

"Who are you?" Was million dollar question. The boy visibly bristled. It's quite clear for you that he's not used to social interaction.

"I-I. . . am Bennett." He spoke with a low, soothing tone that was laced with a soft accent. Despite his voice being smooth and even, he stared back at you with unbidden curiosity, one that seemed to peer into your very soul.

"Bennett?! Oh Lord, I greet His Majesty the Crown Prince!" You promptly bowed your head as low as it can get.

"W-Wait, no, please don't do that! I don't deserve your respect and besides, we're equals now, feel free to call me Bennett if you like."

He doesn't deserve respect? What a load of bullcrap does that mean? A frown has settled deeply in the creases of your forehead. This boy is anything but what the rumors have described him.

"Your Hig— Bennett, you could be an outcast or a peasant and I'd still treat you with respect. Don't say you don't deserve decent manners." You're almost fuming at this point.

"But I'm a monster. I don't deserve anything, even you."

Something in the purity of his statement triggered you.

"I bring bad luck to everyone. I could hurt you in the future and I don't want that, I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."

You could feel the last of your residual resentment fading away, getting replaced by a deep sense of compassion — as well as a healthy dose of curiosity. What would this boy, your future husband, truly be like?

"You're no monster, Bennett. No monster would be concerned for my well-being and selflessly label themselves as such to ward me off." He seemed to perk up at your claim.

"Don't ever call yourself as such. I can't stand it."

"I don't understand, you're the first one to say that to me."

A frown has settled on your brows as you came to stand next to him. "You don't need to for now, I'll show you."

Bennett was none of those rumors. You have concluded that ever since you met him, he has been kind and considerate to your well-being. You have never met someone who would ask which side of the table they're more comfortable to eat with — not until Bennett.

The boy was overwhelming with perfervid compassion and the strong urge to give love, it can feel suffocating at times but that's what made you like him.

There's just this nagging feeling in your gut that he's forced to act like a doting husband due to the fact you're engaged. Is it all an obligation? Or he's simply this passionate?

"Are you not upset at this?" You had asked one night.

"Upset about what?"

"About our arranged marriage."

Bennett may appear jubilant around you but you can't help to think he harbors ill will to this arrangement. "I see no reason why I would." He replied, smiling at you as per usual.

"Why is that?"

He tear his gaze from you before briefly interlocking your hands. So warm and full of passion, you promptly responded to the gesture by drawing circles with your thumb.

"You're the best thing to happen in my life. I can't explain this feeling but I do know I can't be happy without you. Thank you for coming in my life, Y/N."

━━ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. bennett's way too short cuz I ran out of ideas T-T this took wayyyyyy tooooo long, but I'm glad it turned out well. what do you think of this au? I'm planning on making a part 2 for other genshin men, I'm actually starting it already but I still need to finish other prompts.

━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @atsukawolfcat @spyanya @ittosoneandoniwife @a-rose-byanothername @lasignoramybeloved @vvyeislazzy @kokomisimpppp @gookimswife

©OTAKUWORKS_2024

[fullsunstrawberry]

PREVIEW

Love Beyond Labels

synopsis: the misunderstood "rich girl," reveals her academic struggles to a loner with his own challenges. In an unexpected twist, they form a unique friendship—she gets study help, and he gains a true companion.

genre: slice of life, humor, fluff, angst, smut

warnings**: swearing, bullying, joke of “social suicide”, smut (more to be added)

word count: estimated 10k (preview 1k)

release date: December 10th

a/n: thank you guys so much for 2k followers AHHHH so i decided to post my first ever written fanfic…this took forever to write btw lol

taglist open! (18+)

School is easy, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. Well, that's what all your classmates thought. They didn't know how difficult school was for you. You never got what was happening in class. Anytime you got an answer wrong, no one batted an eye because who expects the rich pretty girl to get an answer right? But little did they know you would cry in the janitor's room after each time. You just hated feeling so dumb.

"Ugh, I'm not ready for today's test," Jaemin huffed, plopping down beside you.

"Wait, there's a test?" you sighed, already predicting the outcome.

Mr. Moon whispered a half-hearted "good luck" as he handed you the test, before moving on and finishing handing out everyone else’s tests. He already knew how it was going to go. You hated how even the teachers knew you were stupid.

After the test, you already knew you failed it. You were the last one to turn your test in, when Jaemin asked if you wanted to meet up with him, Jeno, Mark, and Chenle for lunch. You nodded telling him you had to stop at the office real quick.

Instead of walking towards the office, you sped walked to the janitor's closet, already feeling the tears threaten to escape. You knew you failed that test. Even though you acted like you didn’t know you had a test, you lied. You’ve been studying for it for a long time. Even canceling plans. But you would never admit it to anyone. You studied your ass off but still failed, that’s even more pathetic than forgetting about it.

You quickly took out the keys and opened the door quickly so no other student would see it. You thank the janitor for being so forgetful that you could easily steal one of his keys. He has a bunch of copies, one missing wouldn’t hurt. Right as you locked the door you sat in the corner, not even bothering to turn the lights on.

you were always an ugly crier, but it was okay cause you bought the most expensive waterproof makeup for these occasions. Only a quick bathroom stop is needed before meeting your friends for lunch.

As you were drying your tears you heard the door jiggle and then open. you quickly hid your face just in case it was someone you knew.

"Y/N?" a voice you didn't recognize spoke, interrupting your quiet moment in the janitor's closet.

Confused, you wiped your face and looked up at the mystery voice. You kind of recognized the thick black glasses boy in front of you. You knew he was in some of your classes but you couldn’t think of his name.

Fearing the worst you cleared your throat before asking “What do you want?”

“Uh, I don't want anything!" the boy replied, swiftly stepping into the room and closing the door. You noticed he had his lunch tray with him. "This might sound pathetic, but I like to eat my lunch here."

confused, you asked him “Why would you do that?”

“Well I don’t really have friends and I don't want to get picked on” he explained sitting down next to you, not having much of a choice because there wasn’t that much room.

"Oh, I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll just go," you said, preparing to stand up. But before you could, he quickly called out your name, making you look down at him.

"You're not bothering me! You can stay and talk about what's going on. I know we don't talk, but I can listen to you." His hopeful eyes convinced you to sit back down. You quickly wiped away your tears before confiding in him.

“You can’t tell anyone this!“ You put your pinky finger up and put it near him. “promise?

“I don’t have many people to tell” he let out a small laugh while putting his hands up defensively. “promise!” he took your pinky finger in his

“okay” you nodded “I failed my psychology test today”

you looked at his face and he looked confused “What?” you questioned

“Oh it's just, you always fail your tests. Everyone knows that”

As he said that you felt the tears start to come back. Of course, he wouldn’t get it. Why did you ever think he would get it?

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m so sorry” he panicked “I shouldn’t have said that!”

you turn away, quickly wiping away your tears again. “no I get it, I’m the dumb girl”

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant. Hey, want to hear something embarrassing about me? I'm only here because of a scholarship. That's why no one wants to be friends with me!" he confessed.

you start to giggle “That’s not embarrassing!”

“It made you laugh! But here is something actually embarrassing, my teacher forgot my name today. Even though I've had her for the whole year.”

Your eyes widen, feeling bad that you forgot his name.

“ahh you don’t know my name either”

you smile “If you tell me your name, I’ll forgive you”

“haechan”

“That's a nice name, haechan” You smiled at the way it rolled off your tongue.

“thank you, I have a proposition or a proposal”

“I know what proposition means” you teased

he giggled, “I’ll help you study”

your eyes lit up, “really? What can I do for you?”

he avoided your eyes and cleared his throat “Be my friend”

your eyes softened “That’s not hard, I was going to be your friend after this conversation anyways” You pushed his shoulder.

He finally met your eyes and smiled at you. “then you don’t have to do anything, friends help friends”

As the bell faintly rang, you pulled out your phone. "Here, give me your number so we can talk."

he paused for a second before taking your phone

standing up and thanking him before you quickly left to go touch up your makeup in the bathroom. Reminding yourself you would have to tell Jaemin you were sorry for ditching him and the guys.

[bridenore]

HD eight year fic recs : 50k+ words

Here are a few drarry eight year fic recs that are between 30k and 50k words. Posted in alphabetical order, as always.

You can access my rec lists for eight year fics that have less than 10k words here, between 10k and 20k here, between 20k and 30k here and between 30k and 50k here.

Arms Wide Open: Hogwarts by Sita_Z [28k]

Harry did not expect his Eighth Year to involve any more investigations of abandoned bathrooms. Nor did he expect to come across Draco Malfoy there, alone, bleeding and in late-stage labor. Arms Wide Open: Grimmauld Place by Sita_Z [36k] After leaving Hogwarts, Harry and Draco face an uncertain future, raising Scorpius and dealing with the wizarding world’s reaction to their situation. Sequel to Arms Wide Open: Hogwarts.

At Your Service by @faith2wood [95k]

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic [88k]

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Beholden by @faith2wood [123k]

Draco Malfoy might not be a killer, but it turns out he's an effective painkiller. If stopping pain was all Draco's touch did, things might not be so complicated, but either way Harry can't afford to be choosy.

The Changing Lights by lazywonderland [142k]

Harry returns for an eighth year following the end of the war and realises that although he's put his own animosity towards Malfoy aside, no one else seems to have done the same. When a hex leaves his oldest rival in the body of a female and ridicule doubles, Harry discovers that his hero complex is a difficult thing to fight.

Exceeds Eggspectations by Elle Gray (LGray) [61k]

Eighth year. Winter. Christmas has been and gone. Harry’s just been dumped and so has Malfoy. There’s a stupid fake baby assignment to be done, and what’s the harm in doing it together, really, when life is this shit already? This is not slow burn, this is a roman candle pointed at a pile of dry twigs that represent your heart.

Firebond by Oakstone730 / @i-didnt-wanna-do-it​ [94k]

Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.

Golden Age by @lol-zeitgeistic [52k]

The Celtic druids once made a decision that kept magic in abundance in Britannia, but they couldn’t account for the technological advances Muggles would make centuries later. Now magic is dying on the isles, and this is not a dark lord that Harry can fight. OR: Harry Potter doesn’t save the world this time, but he does get a lot of hugs.

Graceless Heart by shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony​ [132k]

Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry. When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook. Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

Helix by Saras_Girl [92k]

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

It’s No Great Mystery by @agentmoppet​ [57k]

Who on earth decided that bringing back the Yule Ball for their eighth year would be a good idea? It feels like the worst day of Harry’s life, watching everyone get glammed up like the war never happened, like the last Triwizard Tournament wasn’t such a colossal failure. And then it happens again. And again. And again.

Manticoria by @lol-zeitgeistic [70k]

In the dangerous days after Voldemort’s fall, Harry struggles to find a way to be with Draco—again. But as the magical world threatens to die all around them, it might be more difficult than he thought. Includes dying wards, dying beasts, and love struggling to live; sentient magic, wandlore, Founder lore, potion lore, and ward lore; and of course there is Zacharias Smith to ruin everything, as usual.

Mental by sara_holmes [156k]

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

My Little Berserker by @aelys-althea  [105k]

Eighth year was supposed to be calm. Moderated. Peaceful, even. Draco returned to escape the chaos wrought upon his shambles of a life and Harry to flee the responsibility of a world that sees him as something greater than was truly possible. Hogwarts was a safe haven, right? At least it was until Hagrid comes up with the wonderful idea to introduce some additional members to the student body of the fluffier variety. Hagrid doesn’t do moderated - where’s the fun in that?

The Nightmare Club by Elle Gray [85k]

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn’t. Harry hasn’t decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he’s responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don’t worry, there’s tea!

Not in the Hands of Boys by @fourth-rose [130k] *incomplete

Once the final battle is won, life must go on, although it can be even harder to master than death. Back at Hogwarts for his final year of school, Harry tries to cope with everything he's been through. As the world around him struggles for a way back to normality, he is forced to realise that in the long run, living takes a lot more courage than dying.

Objects of Desire by Azrael Geffen [400k+]

The dream team sign a magical contract promising to lose their virginities within the year, they soon fix on the objects of their desires, but will the bitterness left in the wake of the war prove too hurtful for love to exist?

Ocean of Storms by Bounding-Heart [113k]

The war is over and Harry has returned to help rebuild Hogwarts. He longs to move forwards, but the past refuses to let him go. The castle is full of ghosts: haunting nightmares, the deaths he couldn’t prevent, and the age-old rivalry that Draco Malfoy seems determined to maintain.

Owl Was Well by @fencer-x [66k]

Draco Malfoy is not an owl, really he isn’t. He simply assumes the shape of one on occasion when he wants to find a bit of privacy—a goal entirely thwarted because Harry Potter doesn’t understand you can’t just grab any old bird from the Owlery and force it to send your missives and deliver your packages.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy [66k]

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

red and green are complimentary colours by  ace_0fhearts [88k]

After the war Hermione manages to convince Harry to go back to Hogwarts for his eighth year. Expecting an uneventful year of classes and rooming with the other Gryffindor boys, he’s surprised when McGonagall tells him he’ll be sharing a room with Draco Malfoy. Now Harry has to get through a year of arguments and awkward silences. Or he would, if Malfoy would stop ignoring him and moping around the castle alone. Or: Draco and Harry fall in love through sleepless nights and late night quidditch games

Reparo by amalin [84k]

Voldemort’s final defeat does not mean Harry Potter’s troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it. 

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k] 

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.

The Silent World Within You by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [95k]

Harry only wanted Malfoy for one night, one birthday. It wasn’t meant to be anything more.

spins madly on by asofthaven [56k]

As part of his probation, Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts to complete his N.E.W.T.s. Gobstones, the political machinations of the Hogwarts student body, and one Harry James Potter captures Draco’s attention instead.

Things Worth Knowing by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [164k]

After the Battle, Harry thinks he’s left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco’s just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He’s hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems. And that’s not even addressing the fact that Potter’s got serious issues of his own, which Draco realises as he’s forced to share an Eighth Year dormitory room and several classes with the Gryffindor Git. If only they can make it through the year without killing each other, it should be all right, shouldn’t it?

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop [113k] 

Harry doesn’t mind that so many Slytherins from his year have returned to finish their NEWTs, really he doesn’t. It’s just – do they have to be so friendly? He’s not prejudiced, really he’s not. It’s just – they’ve got to be up to something, right? Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him. When he’s hit by an illegal love-spell though, Harry finds he has more to worry about than whether or not Blaise Zabini actually wants to be his friend. For if everyone affected has been blessed – or cursed, by the look on Malfoy’s face – with a magical tattoo revealing the name of their soulmate, what does it mean that Harry’s skin remains completely bare?

You’ve Got Owl Post by @slyth-princess [50k]

After discovering muggle romantic comedies during winter break, Pansy Parkinson and Luna Lovegood decide to launch an ambitious project called You’ve Got Owl Post which matches up students through an enchanted notebook so they can send letters to each other without knowing who is at the other end. It is an instant hit. Harry, without his friends knowing, is one of the first to join. And he rapidly finds a kindred soul on the other side of the pages. In real life, however, he is once again plagued by Draco Malfoy. After fighting in class, McGonagall has had enough. So, as punishment and a lesson, she assigns them the running of that years dueling club. Everyone, including Harry and Draco, assumes it will be a disaster. However, sometimes the people you think you know the best are the ones who can surprise you the most. A story of letters, bets, friendship, love, forgiveness, and discovering who you really are.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part thirteen

authors note: this one is super long, ya'll! i don't necessarily like how long it is, but i couldn't cut it in half because there was no good cutoff point. so, i apologize to the readers with short attention spans! also, the very last part is not known to the characters, it's just context for what's happening....

this chapter takes place on February 2nd, 2024. yes, i'm aligning it with the real life dates of smackdown shows lol.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, smut, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You’d forgotten how uncomfortable flights are and how much they irk you.

It's mostly the not being in control that bothers you. You can admit as much. On the jet wasn’t as difficult because you had Joe, and while Alexis is a nice companion, she’s not your man. No one can make you feel as safe and calm as he does.

However, there's some peace in seeing how well Callie is doing on her first flight. Your undercover social butterfly of a child has made friends with the flight crew who have taken her under their wing, allowing her to be a pretend flight attendant for the short flight. 

So her spending time with the flight crew allows you and Alexis time to talk, cause why not distract yourself with a heavy ass conversation while 30,000 feet up in the air? 

Alexis takes a sip of her wine, included with the first class tickets she purchased for the three of you. “Just let me know when you get back to the hotel tonight. I’ll watch Cal Gal for ya’ll.”

Confused, you ask, “why would we need you to watch her?”

She answers so casually, “so y'll can fuck. Duh.”

You sigh…..of course. “Alexis, this trip is not for that. We’re here so Callie can spend time with her daddy.” And that’s the truth. You’re most excited to see Callie’s happiness at being reunited with her dad.

“He’s your daddy too,” she wiggles her brows, and you look away. This heifer is way too much sometimes. “All I’m saying is it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Too long. “I’m not saying I don’t want to. It’s just not a priority, and I’m still not on birth control.” It hasn’t been very high on your to-do list, especially with him being gone as long as he has. But also….there’s a small part of you that doesn’t want to get on it, and it’s not because of any health concerns. 

“Tell him to pull out,” she suggests with a shrug, but your face must give it away. “Oh my god, he doesn’t want to, does he?”

Having this conversation on a plane, or at all, probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s something you’ve been thinking about since the night of your date. Even more as you grew closer to being reunited with him. “When we had sex that night, he asked me if I was on birth control.”

“Like, after?”

“No, like as he was literally blowing my back out.”

“Damn,” she mutters. If you know Alexis like you think you do, the ‘damn’ is also because she’s mentally conjuring that image. Freaky ass. Shaking her head, she then asks, “and you told him no, right?”

“Of course, but you know what he said in response?” Blowing out a deep breath, your head falls back against the headrest. “He said good, Alexis.”

Her mouth drops open, and you move to slap your palm over her lips. “Remember, we are on a plane, and my daughter is somewhere in the vicinity.”

This seems to help. A little. Removing your hand, she harshly whispers, “he’s trying to get you pregnant again!”

“I don’t think it’s that,” you answer honestly. “I think—I think it’s more if it happens, he wouldn’t be opposed.” And you believe that. You know Joe. He’s many things, and assertive is near the top of that list. He would straight up tell you if he wanted to get you pregnant…..you think.

She studies you, always so damn perceptive and knowing. “You feel the same way too, don’t you?”

“I don’t—” You can’t finish your sentence, because she’s not entirely wrong. It makes no logical sense for you to even be having this conversation, let alone thinking about this. Having a baby right now is one of the dumbest things you could do. You’re having a hard enough time as it is just finding gaps for Joe to spend time with the child you already have.

But. 

There’s also this side of you that sees where this is headed. You know that your future is with this man. There’s no outcome you can figure where you two don’t end up together, and Alexis wasn’t wrong before she’d asked/reminded you that you want more kids. You want more kids with him. Want to give Callie a sibling. 

Just….not right now.

You can’t even find it in you to tell this man you love him, but you want him to give you another baby? It doesn’t add up. 

There’s a part of you that wonders if it comes from a place of fear. 

For so long, you dreamed and wished for this to happen, for you to be with Joe, to have a future with him. It kept you up at night the fact that it would never be a possibility, but still, you dreamed. And now that all of it is happening, you wonder if there’s fear it could all go away so you’re trying to make the best of it.

Even though, deep down, you know there’s no reality where Joe could be away from Callie. You? Yes, maybe. Though slim to none. But while he loves you, Callie is his soul. He’d burn the whole world down if that’s what it took to be with her. 

And that means he’ll always, to some extent, be in your life.

“Maybe.” Is the much shorter versioned answer you settle for. “So, for now, no sex until I figure this out.” Even saying it aloud, you’re not sure you entirely believe it. It’s a nice plan, but plans often change.

Especially when they involve Joe.

Alexis groans. “I love you, babes, but sometimes you’re so damn exhausting. There’s literally nothing to figure out. That man would marry you tomorrow if he could. You just gotta let go of the past, enjoy the present, and work towards the future.” She then adds, “then again, you said the same thing last time about no sex, and that man still fucked you six different ways from Sunday, so who knows.”

As much as you want to protest, you can’t. Your resolve when it comes to Joe, in almost all areas, is embarrassingly weak. 

________

Being backstage is such a blast from the past, so reminiscent of so many years back when you and Mariah were just stoked at the possibility of meeting Cena, unaware of how that one night would change the trajectory of your entire life.

There’s a small part of you saddened at how things have changed so much with Mariah, but that’s an issue for another day. Your focus is on the here and now.

Similarly, Callie seems just as intrigued, but for different reasons. She keeps her hand in yours but her eyes scan around, growing hopeful with each turn of the corner that she’ll be met with the one thing she’s looking for. Or, rather, who she’s looking for.

Alexis somehow arranged a private tour backstage, thus “ditching” you as soon as ya’ll arrived to the arena. However, you also know she believes this is a “personal thing" and doesn’t want to “invade.” You tried to tell her that she was more than welcome, but she wasn’t hearing it. You’re so grateful for all of her support. It means so much to you. 

One of the security guards flanking you and Callie tries to make small conversation, and you’re partially grateful but mostly annoyed. Your anxiety is already on the higher end than you’d like it to be, especially when all you wanted was to remain calm and collected for Callie’s sake. But having someone blabber about something you have no interest in doesn’t do much to help that.

Too bad it’s not a distraction, though, because you’re starting to second guess your decision. It’s a bold move not only coming to Joe's “job,” but bringing Callie too. Not that he’d ever complain or be upset at getting to see her, but not making him aware ahead of time is suddenly seeming like not the best idea. No matter what Jon says.

You know you ultimately had to keep him in the dark, because he’d ask questions as to why, not from suspicion but just natural curiosity. And you don’t want to lie to him. You need to talk to him about Callie, but you want to do so in person. That’s not a phone or even Facetime kind of conversation. 

What if he isn’t ready for you to go “public”? To make Callie’s existence “public”? Sure, you have zero expectation of him letting ya’ll leave backstage, thus making it easy to hide out from cameras, but still, this is his workplace. He deserves some privacy. 

So deep in your head and thoughts, you miss when you turn the final, lucky corner, only to realize when Callie gasps loudly, “daddy!”

She rips her hand from yours, and you briefly panic when she starts running away only to see who she’s running to. 

Joe’s standing there among who you’d guess are WWE execs, clearly in the midst of conversation, when his head snaps in your direction. His eyes immediately land on Callie. He’s briefly confused, but a big smile replaces that confusion as he reaches down to catch Callie. She throws her little body against his, and you watch him stand up with her still in his arms, kissing her cheek and hugging her closely.

You walk over to them, offering a small, apologetic smile to the people now watching with slight puzzlement.

“Callie Bear,” he murmurs, mouth pressed to the top of her head. Your anxiety is already lessening. There’s not an ounce of anger or irritation painted in his handsome features, only an immense amount of appreciation and satisfaction at seeing his little girl. 

“Surprise!” She shouts, smiling broadly. “Mommy said we could come see you since you can’t come see us!”

“And I’m glad you did,” he murmurs. “I missed you, baby girl.” She lays her head against his chest, obviously having missed him just as much. His eyes then land on you as you finally reach the duo. Your smile is small, even as he reaches and pulls you against his free side, stealing a quick kiss. “I missed you too, mama.”

His words do something so warm and fuzzy to your insides. “We figured if you couldn’t make it to us, we’d come to you.” Relief is so heavy over you. You’re pretty sure you’ve just given Joe one of the best surprises he could ever receive. You look over at the people still awkwardly standing by and then to him. “I’m sorry, did she interr—”

“No.” He seems almost insulted that you would even ask such a thing. He directs to them, “later.”

Without protest, they disperse, walking away. It’s so interesting seeing how much he’s grown since you first met him. Back then he was young, still trying to prove himself. Now he’s the literal face of the company. It starts and ends with him. 

“I was on a plane!” Callie informs with that award winning smile. “I’ve never been on a plane before!”

“You haven’t?” It’s difficult to tell if he’s feigning surprise for the sake of engaging her on her level or genuinely can’t believe she’s never flown before. “Were you scared?”

She shakes her head. “It was lotsa fun!”

Joe chuckles and kisses her cheek. “That’s my brave girl.”

She giggles as he tickles her stomach. “I saw clouds! Ooh and birdies! And the nice flight lady gave me cookies cause she said I was a good girl!” As Callie starts to ramble and catch Joe up on a second by second play of the plane ride, he gives you a pat on the hip and directs you to walk with him. His arm around your waist, the other holding up Callie, you can’t deny how natural this feels, the three of you.

Joe takes you to his locker room which is as nice as you would expect it to be for the guy in WWE. You take your seat in the single chair, allowing Callie and Joe to take the sofa even though she’s barely next to him for five minutes before climbing into his lap and pulling out her tablet to show him what she’s made in some of her apps.

You pull your phone out and see that you have a few unread texts, the one from Alexis making you laugh aloud.

Alexis: Would you still love me if I fucked Logan Paul?

Shaking your head, you type out a response. 

You: yes. just a little less.

Alexis: It’s just an appetizer. I plan to leave with the number of someone from that damn Bloodline tonight. Tell BDJ to hook me up.

You: would you please stop calling him that? 😭

Alexis: I’ll stop when it stops being true 🤷🏽‍♀️

You: you’re a menace.

Alexis: Stop texting me and focus on your man.

You: he’s in callie world right now, which is exactly where he should be. i keep telling you this trip was for her. 

Alexis: It can be for you too if you stop being stupid and start by telling him, I don’t know, THAT YOU LOVE HIM. 

You: goodbye, alexis 🙄

Alexis: I’m about to fuck this white boy anyway, but you know I’m right!!!

Alexis: I hope he doesn’t have fleas.

It takes everything in you not to scream. This girl is really crazy. Switching threads, you text your mom.

You: we made it here. she’s so happy. 🥺 he is too. i’m glad i took her.

Opening up the camera app, you sneak and snap a photo of the two of them. Reviewing it makes your heart swell. Callie is clearly deep in explanation while Joe holds her, partially following her discussion but mostly just enraptured in having her with him. 

You send the photo to your mom who responds almost immediately. 

Mom: Awww. I’m glad you did too. Enjoy yourself, baby. Take lots of pictures. ♥️

“Oooh!” Callie’s semi-loud exclamation pulls you away from the text thread. “Look what mommy got me!” Callie hops off Joe’s lap and spins around, moving her hair to the side to show off the back of her hoodie.

Naturally, you move your eyes to Joe, watching closely and carefully as he travels through a variety of emotions: shock, happiness, love. He’s clearly moved. A warm smile sets on your face. “I love it, baby.” He finally speaks, the emotion undeniable in his voice. Joe’s gaze sets on you, and you don’t need him to say anything to know what he’s thinking.

Mouthing ‘you’re welcome’, you settle back into the sofa, watching as Callie returns to her spot in his lap to finish catching him up on all the things he’s missed in his long absence.  

You occupy yourself on your phone, catching up on some work emails and parent messages because it doesn’t seem to matter how many different ways you make them aware of an absence, they’re still going to message you like you didn’t let them know you’d be out of office for the next few days.

Sometimes you can’t tell much of a difference between your students and their parents. They’re both equally out of touch.

At some point, Callie moves to the middle of the floor to empty out her backpack that you still don’t know just how she managed to pack as much as she did in. She seemed hellbent on bringing all of these items, mostly artsy things, to share with Joe. And you didn’t want to stop her, so you let it be. 

However, you end up catching Joe’s eye, and he motions you to come over to him. But, being the brat you are, you take your time doing so. And of course, because everything about this man is large, it’s nothing for him to reach his long arms out to tug you in front of him. His hands are on your hips, and you can tell he’s trying to keep the placement appropriate for the sake of Callie. 

“You’re quiet,” he observes, discerning you.

Shugging, you answer honestly, “I want you to have your time with Callie. She’s really missed you.” One thing you’re most definitely not looking forward to is the discussion regarding the real reason for this surprise trip. You already know it’s going to make Joe feel awful, and that’s not the goal. You just don’t want to keep anything else from him as it pertains to Callie. He doesn’t deserve that.

“And what about you?” He asks, suddenly, “Did you miss me?”

Chuckling, you brush your fingers against his soft hair, pulled back in his go-to bun. “I always miss you, Joe.” The delivery is much more gentle than intended, albeit entirely true. Pre-Callie and Post-Callie, maybe even moreso now, Joe’s extended absences affected you in various ways. Being around him right now is making you more aware of just how much, even as your brain jumps to how nice it’ll be to not sleep alone tonight. That was something you always loved about Joe when he came to visit years back, how he would always bring you against his hard body, strong arms securing you. You always slept the best when he was in town. 

Of course, this is way too vulnerable of a conversation to have with your daughter present, so you change subjects. “But, I also wanted to see Cody Rhodes, cause you know I’m team finish the story,” you tease, giggling at his instant scowl. It’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie. Cody is cool, but you’re Team Roman (Joe) all day every day. Still, it’s in your nature to stir up trouble and pick with him. 

“Dick rider,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear but low enough for Callie not to. 

Smirking, you lean down to whisper in his ear. “Naw, baby, that’s for you and you only.” 

Trying to move away is a fruitless effort because he yanks you onto his lap, your thighs over his legs as he murmurs against your earlobe. “Don’t play with me like that.”

“Mommy, I wanna sit there.” Callie’s jealous voice suddenly enters the conversation, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at her pout. She’s so possessive. “He’s my daddy, not yours.”

You gasp quietly when he squeezes your ass, forcing you to climb off him. “You’re very right, Callie Bear.” Moving back to your chair, you taunt, “he’s not my daddy.”

It’s hilarious watching Joe control himself for the sake of Callie, but his expression tells you everything you need to know. If not for her presence, he’d have you bent over, taking every inch of his thick dick as he reminds you just who you belong to.

The image shouldn’t excite you as much as it does.

Sure enough, Callie climbs her little self back onto the sofa and back onto Joe’s lap, but the sound of an almost rhythmic knock at his door draws the attention of all three of you. However, before Joe can respond, the door is swung open, and based upon the lack of consent, you expect to see Alexis. Instead, you’re met with a different set of folks. 

“Come in,” Joe says sarcastically, and you glare, standing up to greet them. 

“Whassup, Y/N? Long time, no see, girl.” Jon’s introduction is so typical and expected, but it still makes you laugh. He’s always been a hoot to be around. 

“Good to see you, Jon.” He hugs you, and you turn to Josh who’s also wearing a friendly grin.

“Lil hurt you ain’t hit me up to help you with the surprise.” He sucks his teeth but still hugs you, as you shake your head.

“I thought you’d be on Raw,” you answer. It’s the truth, even if who exactly helped you make this happen didn’t matter as much as ensuring it did in fact happen.

“That why you been acting weird?” Joe’s voice enters the conversation. “You knew?”

“We both knew,” Joshua answers as you give Jon a look. 

He asks, “what?”

Sucking your teeth, you cross your arms, “I told you not to tell nobody!”

“I didn’t! It’s just Josh.” He shrugs, and you can only shake your head. There’s a reason these two are so popular in the WWE. A lot of their promos could be ripped from real life interactions. 

“Y/N!” Trinity's gorgeous smile is the first thing you notice followed by her surprise introduction, even before her colorful gear that you’ve always been so amazed by as she rushes over to you. She stretches her arm, “it’s so good to see you again!” Smiling, you accept her hug, tight and genuine. In the few interactions you’d had with her, she was also so kind and friendly. It’s nice to see that hasn’t changed.

“It’s good to see you too, Trin.” You mean it. She's just a genuinely chill person.

Looking over to Callie, you see she’s still sitting on Joe’s lap, holding onto his hoodie, obviously trying to read the room full of strangers. Jon must notice this too as he looks her way as well, giving her that warm smile.

“And this….” He starts walking toward her, crouching down in front of the sofa. “---this must be the famous Ms. Callie.”

A small chuckle leaves your mouth watching her suddenly “hide” her face in Joe’s side, as one eye is still peaked open. 

You whisper over to the group, “don’t let her fool you. She’s shy at first, but then she won’t be quiet.” It’s a conversation so similar to Callie’s first meeting with Joe which feels so long ago now. 

Joe’s also clearly a bit amused at her sudden shyness and goes to introduce them. “Callie, these are my cousins, Jon and Josh.” She looks up with a quizzical expression and motions with her hand for him to lean down. He does so, and she whispers something in his ear. His smile grows as he answers, “they are.” Looking still a bit skeptical, she waves her hand again. Take two. He dips his head, and she whispers something else. Again, he answers, “yup.” At this, she gasps and jumps off the sofa, running over to you. 

Callie hugs your legs and “whispers” to you with all of the excitement, “mommy, they’re my cousins too! I have cousins!” 

It takes a lot out of you not to get emotional in this moment. She’s so damn happy at this news, at finding out she has more family. You lean down and push back some of her loose curls. “You surely do, baby.”

Finally pleased with the confirmation, she turns around and beams at the twins and Trinity, “hi! I’m Callie!”

There’s a chorus of laughter as Trinity speaks this time, “it’s very nice to meet you, Callie.”

“You’re pretty,” Callie compliments, and Trin places a hand over her chest, clearly touched by her kindness. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re so sweet,” she awes as Josh joins in, introducing himself as Callie stares at him for a second.

“You’re a twin,” she says it like this is the first time he’s ever heard as such or even realized as such. 

Josh does a good job going along with it, nodding and smiling. “I sure am.”

Callie suddenly turns to you. “Mommy, how come I don’t have a twin?”

“Because Jesus loved mommy enough not to do that to me.” Childbirth is equally horrific as it is beautiful, and while you’re forever grateful for your sweet child, you’ll never forget that pain. Pushing her out was torture. You can’t even begin to imagine having to do it twice, back to back. 

Twins….never.

Josh suddenly chimes before Callie can present a follow-up question. “I have a little girl who’s a couple years older than you, and I can’t wait for ya’ll to meet.”

She gasps loudly. “I have more cousins?”

Jon sucks his teeth and answers, “Girl, you got so many cousins, you might meet em’ all before you turn 18.”

Her jaw drops. “I'll be really old then!”

Shaking your head, you start to counter her when Joe speaks up, calling her name.

“You have another cousin here tonight, baby girl.” There’s a second of confusion, but you realize he must be talking about Solo Sikoa. You hadn’t met him, as he came onto the scene after you and Joe separated. But as you told Joe, he’s free to introduce you to any and all family. You want this for your little girl. It’s obvious just from her reaction to the twins and Trin, she wants it as well. “Do you wanna meet him?”

It’s a no brainer, Callie nodding furiously as she runs to jump back on the sofa, sitting next to Joe.

He laughs at her enthusiasm and then calls out, “come in.” It’s loud enough for whoever is on the other side of the door to do so, and while you expect to see the final member of the bloodline enter the space, you’re thoroughly and shockingly surprised to see that you are very wrong.

Because through the door aren't the footsteps and subsequent entrance of Solo Sikoa.

It’s Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. 

While you’re in a semi state of shock, Callie is in a pure state of unadulterated delirium, and it’s entirely expected given she knows this man as something else. 

Someone else.

“Maui!” 

The entire room erupts in laughter as Callie rushes to stand in front of Dwayne who gets down on one knee to be more eye to eye with her.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Callie.”

Joe also moves closer and bends down, hand on Callie’s back. “Calista, this is my cousin, Dwayne, so that means he’s yo—”

“Maui is my cousin!” 

This little girl is damn near screaming, but it’s so hard to tell her to quiet down when you’re pretty sure this may be the single most happiest moment of her life.

Next to finding out Joe is her dad, of course.

Once your own shock wears off, you pull your phone out to snap a few photos, almost wishing you knew ahead of time The freaking Rock was going to be present tonight. You also would have tried to make yourself look a little more presentable, especially when Joe introduces you to his cousin as well. 

And of course because you’re the one who starts taking pictures, it’s only a matter of time before you’re dragged into a few of your own. It’s an easy pass, as you feel entirely underdressed with your all black one piece, long cardigan, and boots, having dressed comfortably for traveling. Not photo-ops. 

But, it’s when Callie pouts and says so sweetly, all the innocence in the world, “but we’re a family” that it actually hits you for the first time. 

You, Joe, Callie….you don’t just feel like a family. You are one. 

So you push aside your vanity and swallow back the tears to partake in a slate of photos involving everyone to just you, Callie, and Joe to even just a couple of you and Joe. Your favorites are most definitely the ones with the three of you, especially one where Joe sits you down on his left leg and Callie on his right. He squeezes your side, forcing a squeal and laugh that makes Callie laugh as well, creating such an organic, beautiful moment between the three of you.

A family.

—-----------

The night keeps on bringing more and more surprises, the latest one being the fact that instead of hiding out backstage, you, Alexis, and Callie are seated ringside in the VIP section with other family members and close friends of the wrestlers. 

It’s…..definitely not what you expected. You’re not opposed, especially since Callie was thrilled to learn she’d be much closer to Joe out here than she would from the back, but it’s just not what you were expecting.

It’s so…..public.

“How long does it take someone to walk out like da—”

“Alexis!” You scold her, even if you slightly agree. It’s not that you’re not enjoying yourself. You are. You just would much rather see your man, and you know Callie feels the same way. Every so often she’ll lift her head from her tablet, hoping to see Joe only to be disappointed.

You tried to tell her that as soon as she hears his music, he’ll come out, but that was nearly 45 minutes ago. A part of you wishes you could have found somewhere backstage to hide out as Joe and the others eventually had to leave to cut a promo.

So while Alexis' delivery is slightly off, she has somewhat of a valid point.

Rolling her eyes, she looks your way, asking. “Can you text him and tell him to hurry up?” 

Shaking your head, you answer with just as much sass and sarcasm. “Yes, I’ll get right on—”

And that’s when you hear it. 

“Oh shit,” Alexis pulls out her phone, instantly starting to record because this whole trip apparently needs to be memorialized with photo and video. Not that you’re entirely or in any way opposed. This is Callie’s first time at one of her dad’s shows. It’s special and should be documented in one way or another. 

Looking to your side, you see her tablet is on the empty seat next to her, and she’s reaching for you to pick her up so she can see better. 

Quickly obliging, you hike her on your hip and laugh at her excited expression. Her eyes are scanning all over for him, so you direct her to where he should be walking out any minute. 

“I wonder whose music that is,” Alexis teases, and you turn with Callie to face the phone that’s capturing this moment. 

Callie answers proudly. “My daddy’s!”

You and Lex laugh at her excitement that grows exponentially when Joe finally walks out, flanked by his cousins and Paul. 

“There he is!” She points, and you smile, kissing her cheek. This is all so worth it, the pure joy and glee on her face. You follow her line of vision, focusing on the Tribal Chief himself.

Damn. 

Joe is one fine ass man. That’s it. That’s the tweet. But when he’s in his Roman role? That confidence, that swagger……everything sexy about him is amped up times ten. You may have to rethink your stance on no sex for this trip.

It feels almost criminal to be around this man and not ride him until you can’t no more.

The naughty thoughts are temporarily pushed away when you notice Callie is nodding her head to Joe’s entrance music. Laughing, you and Alexis join in. Lex is still recording, and you’re actually happy she is because she gets it on camera when Callie throws up the one to ‘acknowledge' him. Your heart swells. There’s something about that moment that’s so precious to you, to see how connected she feels with him. How closely they’ve bonded. How much she loves him. And even more, how much he loves her.

As they near the ring, you notice how Joe branches off from them, and you assume it’s because of whatever this promo entails. But, you quickly realize it’s because he’s headed toward you. There’s this brief sense of panic on your end, meanwhile Callie gasps in excitement and reaches for him. Joe hugs her and kisses her temple. Touched at the gesture, you look at her only for Joe to take you by equal surprise when he grabs your chin and kisses you as well. 

What…..the…..hell?

You’re not upset, just genuinely surprised that he would be so openly affectionate with you, maybe not Callie as much, but definitely you. So….public. You’re certain that your face is painted in shock the whole time, but it’s when he heads into the ring that you and Alexis share a look, Callie too focused on her daddy to notice anything else.

“Girl, if you don’t tell that man you love him, I’m gonna tell him for you.” She could be joking. She could be serious. You never really know with Alexis. “Because he literally just acknowledged you in front of all these people.”

There’s still a part of you that’s having difficulty processing what just happened. You were worried that Joe would feel some type of way about you and Callie coming to his job, just staying backstage, but this man really has you both ringside and broke character just to show you and Callie affection. 

If there was ever any doubt in your mind regarding his feelings for you, tonight has completely demolished it.

Alexis is right.

You need to tell him. 

And you need to tell him tonight.

________

As much excitement as the day has brought, you knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up to your still very young child. Joe’s segment with The Rock ended up being the closing promo, which worked out great because Callie started to doze off a bit right around that time. And when you’re finally able to reunite with Joe backstage, she’s all but sleeping in your arms. 

In having to buckle and unbuckle her in her car seat for the travel to the hotel, she stirs a bit, but as soon as you arrive and Joe removes her from the car seat, the end of the travels, you know she’s out for the night. 

He carries her into the hotel room and walks her into the main bedroom while you place the bag you have for both her and yourself near the “living room” area. Joe insisted he could handle both the luggage and Callie, but you insisted that he instead focus on your little girl.

You also take a moment to take in that this is an actual hotel room instead of an apartment. There are literally two bedrooms separated by doors and all and two bathrooms, both of which rival the size of Callie’s bedroom. 

It’s definitely not your local motel from back home.

Joe walks back in, no Callie in sight. “She is knocked out.”

“I knew she would tap out eventually. She’s been up all day, refused to nap.” He walks over to you, hands on your hips as he tugs you close. Your hands move to his chest. “She was too excited to see you.”

“Thank you, by the way,” he murmurs. “For bringing her.” 

You chew on your bottom lip. “I almost didn’t. I—I didn’t know if you’d be upset I didn’t ask you first.”

His furrowed brows tell you that couldn’t be farther from the truth. “Why would I be upset?”

You shrug, suddenly unsure of yourself, which is such a foreign feeling. Confident is always a word you’d use to describe yourself, but in this moment, having this discussion, it’s not as applicable. “I guess….I guess I wasn’t too sure if you’d want people knowing about me.” Your voice softens. “About Callie.” 

And it’s true. It’s one thing for Joe to be out in public with Callie back home, but it’s an entirely different thing to be out in public in his world.

Granted, his public display of affection tonight should have squashed that concern. 

Just your implication alone seems to be a dagger to his chest. Joe brings his hands to your face and speaks with such confidence and conviction. “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m not ashamed of us, and I’m damn sure not ashamed of my daughter. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. Do I want to do an exclusive interview about us? Hell no. But, that’s because my personal life is nobody’s business but my own. I’m not hiding your or our daughter from anyone in my personal life, not my friends, not my family, and not the WWE.” 

For a second, you feel bad for making him have to defend himself so staunchly, have to explain himself. It’s not necessary. 

Not after he so openly acknowledged you and Callie tonight. 

“I believe you,” you respond quietly. You move your hands up and down his chest in an effort to settle him. “I know you’re not ashamed. I’m sorry.” Remembering the video from earlier, you pull your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. Locating it takes a matter of seconds. “I figured you’d like this.” You hit play and angle the phone so he can see, a massive smile growing on his handsome face. It’s like you can feel the tension melt away when he lays eyes on Callie. 

Similar to yourself, he seems especially moved by Callie’s “acknowledgment.” You lay your head against his chest, whispering, “she really does love you, ya know.”

Just like her mama.

Video finished, you bite on your bottom lip, an idea crossing your mind. Such weak resolve indeed. “You know, she sleeps heavy…..very heavy.” His eyes narrow, intrigued by where you’re giving. Smirking to yourself, you head toward the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna go take a bath in that nice big tub that could totally fit two people.”

In what seems like inhuman speed, Joe is in front of you, hand coming down on your ass. Hard. “Joe!”

“Get your ass naked. Now.” ________

His head is in the crook of your neck, lips pressing gentle kisses against the wet skin of your shoulder. You chew on your bottom lip, hands on top of his that rest under the water on your stomach. 

“I always miss you too,” he murmurs against you, a nod to the brief conversation from earlier. Eyes closing, you rest your head back against his shoulder. 

This moment is perfect, and you hate to ruin that, to take away from it. But, you also promised yourself that you would be honest with him, especially when it comes to Callie. 

Turning around in the water, you straddle him, legs on either side of his large body. Before he can take your change in position to mean something else, you bring your hands to his face. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

You’re certain he can tell by your tone that whatever it is is serious. “Tell me.”

Fuck. This is harder than you thought it would be. “I wanted to see you, yes, but Callie….Callie needed to come see you.” You can tell he has questions, so you move straight into it, not wanting to delay the inevitable. “She’s been…she’s been different.” He sits up, fully immersed in the conversation. “Not bad, just….she’s been irritable with me at times. Even her teacher said something. You don’t see it, because she’s fine when she talks to you, even after. But when she can’t talk to you….” You shake your head. “I talked to my mom about it, because I was thinking she’s finally feeling whatever I caused when I ran off that night, but….that’s not it.” 

You made the executive decision to not tell him, however, about her drawing or how she cried into your chest because she missed him so much and couldn't understand why he hadn’t come back to see her. This already must be hard for him to hear. There’s no need to throw salt on the wound. 

You know the full truth would crush him.

“So then I talked to her.” You lower your hands to his broad shoulders, massaging them soothingly, voice softening as you finally tell him, “---and she told me she’s been sad because she misses you.”

You see it. The moment his heart drops. He’s crushed, eyes averting downward. His guilt is almost palpable. 

“Please don’t do that.” Voice gentle, you bring your hands back to his face, urging him to meet your loving gaze. “You have done such an amazing job stepping into the father role, and it shows in how much she loves you. You go above and beyond for her. She just can’t grasp what it is you do because she’s too young to do so, but I talked with my principal, and I’ve got the time to take off, so I’m gonna take it. I’ll bring her to you.”

“Y/N….”

“It’s not an issue. Especially since summer will be here before we know it. I’m off then too, so we can make that work. We will make this work, because she’s our daughter, and that’s what parents do.” Your words are partially penetrating, that much is obvious, so you continue. “I really didn’t want to say anything, because I knew you would feel bad, and you absolutely shouldn’t, but I also don’t want to keep anything from you, especially when it’s about Callie. You’re her father. You have a right to know.”

“It’s why you didn’t tell me you were bringing her, because you knew I’d ask,” he puts two and two together. You’re not surprised. Joe’s always been annoyingly perspicacious and insightful. “Thank you…for telling me.”

Kissing his forehead, you remind him, “Calista loves you, Joe. Whether you’re in town or not. You could be doing a show on fucking Mars, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. She loves you.” You lick your lips, voice unintentionally light and soft. “And so do I.” It’s not a planned admission, not anything scheduled, just an honest, organic confession.

His gaze is on you, no longer as despondent but replaced with something more akin to surprise. 

“I’ve always loved you.” You bring your palm to his cheek, his beard prickling against your skin. “The only reason I told you to leave was because I loved you, because it was too hard to be in love with you and not really be with you. And after all this time, I still love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.” 

It's the truth. In the time he'd been absent from your life, you absolutely could have found someone and moved on. Maybe even settled down, but you couldn't. Because your heart was still with him.

You're pretty certain your heart will always be with him.

“That was my fault,” he acknowledges in a low voice. “I never told you what you meant to me, never took the steps to make you mine. Officially. And I was wrong for that, Y/N. Dead wrong. You always deserved better.”

Gaze softening, you murmur, “I always knew you were married, Joe. You never hid that from me.”

He shakes his head. “But I never—”

“It doesn’t matter—” it’s not entirely true. It does matter to you, you still want and maybe even have some degree of right to know just what the deal was with his marriage, why it took so long for him to divorce his ex-wife. However, at this moment, you don’t care about any of that. This isn’t about that. “I love you, and you love me. That…..that’s what matters.”

He looks like he still has more to say but is being respectful of what you want right now. So he asserts, “you’re with me now.”

“I’m with you now,” you repeat with a soft smile. “I’m with you always.”

Joe sits up, water pushing towards the other side of the tub. “You love me.” It’s more of a statement than a question, like he’s always known as such but was patiently waiting for you to openly admit to such. “I love you too, baby girl.”

Your lips connect for a kiss, passionate, hot, sensual, greedy. His hands are on your back, holding you close, your breast pressed against his chest. 

Your mouth parts when he moves his hand to your breast, thumb circling your nipple as he plants wet kisses down your jawline. “Let me make love to you.” His lips are fire against your wet skin, and you can’t bring yourself to answer with his hands roaming your body under the water, fingers parting your folds.

All you can do is nod eagerly. Joe surprises you when he ensures your legs are locked around him, standing up like you weigh next to nothing. Bodies dripping with water doesn’t make a difference to him as he walks you into the empty bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him, and lays you down on the bed. 

“Baby, we’re all wet,” you point out, not that it changes anything. He’s hot and hard against your thigh, and you feel yourself subconsciously inching down to take him in. “We ca—ahhh.” Your fingers scrape down his chest as he sinks into you. You’ll never get over the feeling of him inside you, the equally painful as it is pleasurable stretch.

“Joe….”

His head is in the crook of your neck. “It’s always been you.” His hands go to your legs, your thighs, spreading them further, deepening his reach. “Always.” 

He pins your hands above your head, by your wrists and you writhe under him. His pace is slow and intentional. This isn’t about either of you getting off, it’s so much more, much more deeper, meaningful. 

“You’ve always been my home.” But, it’s when he says that, so beautiful and vulnerable, that any remaining resolve you had shatters. Tugging on his grip, he loosens his hold and your hands push lightly on his chest. You give enough pressure for him to recognize you’re trying to switch positions. In seconds, he’s on his back with you on top, lips connected with his for a sensual kiss, your hands intertwining again above the pillow as you ride him.

You break the kiss, unable to keep in your moan. He feels so good inside you like this, and you lean back, moving your hips in slow, methodical circles. You know he loves you like this, riding him, breast bouncing as he meets your thrusts. Joe's hand moves up your stomach to your breast giving a deliciously tight squeeze.

“God, I love you,” you whimper, feeling your release building up. It never takes long with Joe. He’s master of your body and all the ways to bring you to a mewling mess.

You’re taken back when he sits up, tugging you closer, his dick hitting a different, even better spot. He kisses you again, more sloppy, just as passionate. And you moan into his mouth as his big hands plant on your hips, controlling your movements.

“Fuck, Joe.”

“Say it again,” he directs, and you’re momentarily confused why he instructs, “tell me you love me, baby.”

“I love you.” It’s probably one of the easiest things you’ve ever done as your fingers lock in his hair, your head back as he licks up the nape of your neck. “I love you so much.”

Your words seem to send him over the edge as well, his mouth latching onto your nipple as he says against your inflamed skin, “let me come in you.”

That feels like a layered request, like he’s asking two questions in one, not that it makes a massive difference.

The answer is the same either way.

This man has your entire heart and soul, and you’ll give him whatever he asks for. Whatever. 

Your finger knots in his scalp as you yank his head back, forcing him to look at you, “only if you come with me.”

His response is to switch positions again, this time laying you on your side as he fucks you from behind. His hand is planted on your belly, fingers spread and splayed as he talks you through it, carrying you into that wonderland of bliss and euphoria. Your hands scrape against the sheets as your orgasm rocks your entire body, and Joe follows shortly after, emptying his entire seed inside of you. 

Bodies wet and spent, his mouth is still on your back as he breathes into your skin, “I love you….”

Chewing on your lip and moving onto your back, your gaze is on him, loving and content. “I love you, too….”

________

You and Joe take separate showers, a mutual agreement as you both know together would just result in another round. Not that either of you are wholly objected, but you also need to be available for your daughter should she wake up for some reason. Not very likely, but just the chance alone is enough to stay on the safe side.

As Callie is conveniently sleeping in the middle of the bed, you and Joe slide in on opposite sides. Interestingly enough, not even a few minutes pass before Callie stirs in her sleep and moves on her side, facing Joe. It’s heartwarming how he gently caresses her forehead, just watching her sleep. 

“I’ve been thinking.” He makes a sound acknowledging your statement, but his eyes are focused on Callie. You know he’s taking in this moment, recognizing that in a matter of hours he’ll have to leave. That he won’t see her again for another almost two weeks. “What if we moved?”

At that, his eyes lift up, so you explain, “My mom is actually the one who brought it up. I didn’t see or understand it then, but I’m starting to get it now. You come to my place, Callie and I can come to see you here, but….we don’t have a place that’s ours.”

If this trip has shown you anything, it’s the importance of togetherness. Callie is most happy when you’re all together. She’s thrilled to be with Joe, but she’s most elated when it’s the three of you. You understand what your mom was trying to say. Callie wants family. She wants the three of you to be a family, and while there’s a lot of things that are untraditional about your dynamic, there are still paths to normalcy.

And one of those paths include having a home that belongs to the three of you, not just you or him, but a space for us.

“You would do that?” It’s hard for you to tell if his voice is so soft because he’s trying to avoid disturbing Callie or he’s deeply moved by your suggestion. Maybe both.

“Of course.” It’s an easy answer, especially when it comes to what’s best for your daughter. “I can teach anywhere. I have my mom and a few cousins, but that’s it. Almost your entire family is in Florida. You saw how easily she connected and bonded with your family. I want her to have that, and she can’t if we stay in my town. I told you before….she wants to be with you, and so do I.” 

You spent so long wanting and dreaming of having that, you’re entirely done with running and overthinking. It’s done nothing but keep you from being with the man you love and want to do life with. It’s time to focus on now and embrace the future.

A future that includes your family. 

“I’ll have my manager find us a realtor.” 

There’s something so exciting and pleasing about this, most likely that it’s the first step of establishing your future with this man. You’re not sure the last time you felt such peace. 

Yawning, you realize that while you feel exhausted, he must be drained. “Goodnight, Joe.” 

Turning on your back, he wishes you a goodnight and anything else after that is lost to the drowsiness that precedes sleep. 

But, it’s a sleep that doesn’t last as long as you’d like.

Having Callie has made you a lighter sleeper in general, so when Joe gets up and out of the bed, needing to get ready to leave, you’re up shortly after him. You don’t get out of the bed, just move so that Callie is right next to you. You know once he’s gone, she’ll be right under you, so might as well get a head start. 

And it happens much sooner than you’d like it to, Joe on the side of the bed, crouched down, as he goes to wake her up. 

It’s something he was entirely against until you told him that in talking to Callie, she made you promise that he'd wake up to tell her bye. She didn’t want him to leave without getting a chance to say goodbye. 

So, he respects that.

“Callie…” You can see he still hates this, hates all of it. You feel it too. It’s not enjoyable having to see these two separated when it’s obvious how close they are. At the end of the day, you get to go home with Callie. He doesn't. “Baby, wake up.”

Helping him out, you give her shoulder a little shake. “Calista, come on, baby, daddy’s gotta go.”

She’s so much like her dad, a heavy sleeper, but finally she stirs, eyes blinking open. And as soon as she sees him, she also knows what time it is. She sits up and rubs at her eyes, moving to hug him. 

“Bye.” Her soft, sleepy voice is both precious and heartbreaking, for a lot of reasons. You try to remind yourself though that she’s bound to be ecstatic when you and Joe break the news to her that you’ll all be moving in together. It’s just a matter of getting through this rough patch.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He kisses her temple and just as you predicted, she tucks herself into your side, readying to go back to sleep. Joe brings his palm to your cheek, “I love you too.”

Smiling warmly, you murmur, “I know....I love you too.” Easiest hello and hardest goodbye has always been such a cliched, overused, corny ass saying to you, but in this moment, you feel it wholeheartedly. “I’ll text you when we get back home.”

He nods, clearly pleased with this. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

That’s the silver lining. There won’t be as much of a stretch of time that passes between the time you get to see him again. And this pleases you as you give him one last smile before laying back down and dreaming of a future that isn’t as far out as you once believed.

It may be just around the corner. 

________

Meanwhile in the Social Media-Verse…..

TRENDING THREADS

#1: R0m@n Re!gns new gf?

Original Poster: Sooooo. I was on Twitter being nosy, and people who attended the Smackdown show tonight are saying that RR stopped during his entrance to hug and kiss some woman and child sitting ringside. Can’t find any photos or video yet but will come back and add any that I find. Anyone got the tea?

Post #1: I thought he got divorced? I could have sworn I saw an article months about that.

Post #2: I saw the tweets too! Someone asked if it was his ex, but the wwe fanboys are saying the woman was too “fat” to be the ex-wife.

Post #3: That’s so interesting, cause I was watching live tonight (from home because broke bitch status) and the camera randomly cut to the commentators which felt like a strange move given Roman’s entrance is so iconic. I wonder if that’s when it happened.

Post #4: Ain’t nobody got no video or nothing? Didn’t happen. That’s not even aligned with his heel portrayal.

Post #5: @Post#4: He broke character clearly…..

Post #6: Omg yes!!! I was there tonight with my friend, and while we weren’t super close, it definitely happened. That wasn’t his ex-wife. Even from a distance, we could see that. And she’s not fat either, just curvy. Super pretty too. Like stunning. And yes, she’s black. 

Post #7: I just saw someone on Twitter who claims to have been sitting near them say the little girl called him ‘daddy’ 😲

Post #8: I thought he didn’t have any kids??? Harpo who dis woman????? 

Post #9: Damn, it must be serious if he acknowledging her while on the clock and playing daddy to her kid. Our man is taken taken, ya’ll. 😪

Post#10: This is wild. I just googled his name plus the word wife and came across like one picture from years back where she attended some charity event with him. I wonder what their marriage was like cause homegirl never went nowhere with this man.

Post #11: A lot of ya’ll must be new because the tea was spilled years ago in a legendary DR thread that he cheats. Apparently the wife did too. Seemed like an open marriage, Will and Jada type shit, just a lot more private and secretive.

Post #12: @Post11: I am new lol What was the DR? I need to know for…..research purposes.

Post #13: @Post12: Lol. Homegirl said he’s packing, the stroke game is immaculate, and that he’s a eater…..had her damn near speaking in tongues, going up yonder. So whoever this woman is….she’s winning in life. 

Post #14: @Post10 That is so true omg. There’s like nothing there. I know he’s very private but damn sis you can’t make at least an annual appearance????

Post #15: That was his whore (mistress) turned girlfriend and the kid is (allegedly) his. She sucked and fucked her way to that “acknowledgement.”

Post #16: @Post15: Whaaaattttt? You sound like you have tea, sis? Care to spill. 👀

Post #17: @Post16: The truth will come out soon enough.

[xomakara]

Crossing Boundaries

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You are older than Wooyoung by two years and is best friends with his older brother, so you always saw Wooyoung as a younger brother. But Wooyoung wants to be so much more than a younger brother. PAIRING | Wooyoung x Reader GENRE/CONTENT | non-idol!Wooyoung, older!Reader, non-idol au, romance, fluff, smut, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex WARNINGS | A slightly older reader and younger man?? RATING | NSFW, explicit, mature, 18+ LENGTH | 8,033 words TAGLIST | — NETWORKS | AUTHOR’S NOTE | The noona in me is happy and glad to write this. Maybe the filthiest I ever wrote lol. Couldn’t exactly push to 10k but 8k words is still good enough lol

"What's the occasion?" Wooyoung looks at you sprawled out on his bed.

"No occasion. Just needed someone to talk to." You replied after making yourself comfortable. "Your brother is goofing off who knows where and you're the only person that's here in Seoul. I have nothing better to do."

"Did you get dumped?" Wooyoung asked, watching your face. "Again?"

"I dumped him this time!" You say, deciding to let some of the frustration out. "My god he really has no fucking clue what he wants. He likes me, but thinks I'm not good enough for him? How many times do I have to hear that idiot saying those things before it finally sinks into his head that it's wrong?! I deserve someone that can give me the proper love and care! Not someone that doesn't even know how to express his feelings properly or treat me right!"

Wooyoung could be that man. Be the man that gives you proper love and care.

But he knows that you don't think of him in that way. You only see him as a little brother since you're his older brother's best friend. He didn't even care that you were older than him by two years. To him, age was just a number. So to him, there wasn't any reason why he shouldn't have fallen in love with you. You're the girl he wanted most when he was young, but never got because he was too scared to make a move on you.

"The guy is an idiot if he can't see how perfect you are for him." Wooyoung says, leaning back against his desk chair.

"Ugh, maybe I should stop dating people." You sigh. "Maybe I should stick to just reading books from now on. No dating needed at all. Reading about romance in a book is much easier and much less painful."

"Come on, noona. There are other men that would gladly date you." Wooyoung says.

"Are your roommates single?" You turned your head to look at him.

"Why?" He raised an eyebrow at you. “Thought you just said that you’re going to stop dating.”

"I need to find a really handsome guy." You said. “Just so I can get back at that stupid bastard and rub it in his face.”

"Sorry Y/N-noona," Wooyoung shrugged. "But both Hongjoong-hyung and Jongho have girlfriends. And I'm pretty sure my other friends are taken too."

"Fuck. Why do all the pretty men have to be taken?" You complained, burying your face into Wooyoung's pillow. "Even your brother isn't single."

"Like you'd ever date your best friend." Wooyoung snorted, earning himself a glare from you.

"I might have thought about it before." You admitted, returning a snort of your own. "You know there was a time where every girl wanted your brother back in high school."

"Even you?" He laughed, pinching your cheeks. "So why didn't you go after him then?"

"Because your brother only saw me as his best friend." You sighed. "It took him a long time before he realized that I was actually attracted to him. And then he rejected me. And now we laugh about it whenever we meet up together."

"And there starts your origin story of getting heartbroken and dumped every time. Every story will start with Y/N going out with a cute guy, crushing on them, and being rejected." Wooyoung mused.

"Mhm." You agreed. "One day though. One day, everything will work out for me."

"Keep dreaming." Wooyoung teased.

"Fine, fine. It won't happen soon though. Maybe I'll die alone and unfulfilled." You groaned. "You're such a buzzkill, Wooyoung."

"But the world would be dull without me." Wooyoung replied with a laugh.

You sat up in his bed, running a hand through your hair. "Let's go out and drink. I want to forget about all this shit."

"Hm?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow.

"Drink with me." You said, standing up and taking a step towards him.

"Alright, alright." Wooyoung relented. "Where do you want to go?"

"A bar nearby." You answered, feeling more excited than usual. "Something new, I've been to the same places over and over again."

"Alright." Wooyoung nods. "But don't be picking up random guys there! I'm not gonna deal with some drunk douchebag that's trying to get in your pants. If they try something I swear to god I'll-"

"Ohhh, is my Wooyoungie jealous already?" You asked with a chuckle. "Don't worry, this noona here won't be picking up any guys. Just come out with me and drink with me. You can even invite your roommates or friends. I don't care as long as I have a few drinks in me."

"Noona, you sure?" He eyed you suspiciously. "You're not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?"

"I'm positive." You assured him. "After breaking up with that idiot, I don't even want to deal with picking up guys anymore. That's the least of my worries. Now please come drink with me. Please?"

"Alright." Wooyoung said slowly. "I guess I'll go along with you this one time."

"Thank you!" You jumped up and down excitedly. "That's all I wanted to hear! You're the best Wooyoungie."

"Yeah, yeah." Wooyoung waved you away. "Let's go get drunk."

Wooyoung watched as you laughed at something Yunho was saying to you and he couldn't help but stare at the way your lips moved, forming each word and speaking with such confidence. He had seen you laughing before but never like this. Your eyes shone bright and it seemed like the whole room lit up when you did. Seeing you smile genuinely made him happy and he wished he could have frozen that moment right there.

"You like her." San suddenly stated, shocking him out of his daze.

"What?" Wooyoung asked, looking up at the person beside him.

"Y/N-noona." San repeated, narrowing his eyes. "The way you looked at her the last time we went out drinking, I knew it. You like her. A lot."

"You're delusional." Wooyoung shook his head. "She's my older brother's best friend. She's completely off limits."

"Off limits or not, you still like her." San said. "It's okay, you can admit it."

"There's nothing to admit." Wooyoung muttered, looking back at you and smiling slightly. "Nothing to tell anyone."

"Let me guess...She see's you as a little brother, huh? Is that it?" San gave him a disbelieving look.

"Stop it." Wooyoung sighed. "San, you're annoying me."

"Okay, okay." San said with a laugh. "I'll stop talking about your precious noona."

"Great." Wooyoung rolled his eyes before gesturing to you and Yunho. "Now that we have that settled, I think it's time for me to break up whatever is going on over there."

Your laughter was angelic to his ears. The sound calmed him and the sight of your genuine happiness warmed his heart. All he wanted to do was stay there forever, basking in the bliss that is your smile. How lucky his brother was to have you as a friend. What a treasure it was to have you around.

He had never felt this way about another woman. When he first met you back in elementary school, he didn't pay attention to you because you were a tomboy. But when you entered middle school and started to become more feminine, he started noticing you more and found himself admiring the confidence you carried in yourself. Whenever he hung out with you, he always felt relaxed and refreshed. He never had trouble talking to you and he loved hearing your stories. They were entertaining and very interesting.

In all honesty, he didn't think he'd fall in love with you, but once he realized he had feelings for you, it became impossible to deny it.

Ever since he realized his feelings for you, he's tried so hard to keep himself at a distance, because he didn't want to scare you away with his crush. He didn't want to force you to like him, so he continued acting normal around you, not giving you the chance to realize that he liked you. He figured that if you never knew how he felt about you, it would just give him an excuse to keep your friendship alive. To be close to you. To see your smile and listen to your voice. He enjoyed spending time with you. He liked talking to you.

When he had a chance to get closer to you, he always decided against it, thinking it was a bad idea. After all, you were his older brother's friend.

"Noona, you doing good?" Wooyoung asked you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

"Just a little buzzed, that's all." You managed to say without slurring your words. "Yunho and Mingi has been keeping an eye on me."

"Oh yeah?" Wooyoung grinned. "You're not picking them up, are you?"

"Nooooo~" You laughed, shooing him away playfully. "I said that I wasn't going to pick up guys and I mean it!"

"You're drunk aren't you? How many drinks have you had, noona?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Seven." You announced proudly. "Three beers and four shots."

"You really need to slow down." Wooyoung frowned, shaking his head.

"How about you let me buy you a beer, so you can drink with me?" You suggested.

"I refuse." Wooyoung refused to budge.

"How about you buy me a few drinks?" You raised your eyebrows at him.

"No." Wooyoung shook his head firmly.

"How about you take me home?" You suggested, batting your eyelashes at him.

Wooyoung had to take deep breaths to calm himself down at that statement. Of course he wanted to take you home. He wanted to take you home, kiss you senseless, bend you over the table, fuck you - nonono, he couldn't think like that! Not with you as his older brother's friend! It was wrong to have these thoughts. It was wrong to want this. This can never happen.

"Alright, alright." Wooyoung said, reaching for his wallet and pulling out money. "I’ll buy you some more drinks."

“Yay!” You happily clapped your hands, accepting the money from him and quickly getting up. You grabbed Wooyoung's hand, tugging him along behind you. "Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Shots! Shots! Shots!”

Wooyoung let you drag him towards the bar where a few of his friends were hanging out. You were practically pulling him by his arm. Luckily, none of them minded. In fact, everyone was amused by the situation. Some were outright staring at you and chuckling. You dragged Wooyoung to the counter, pointing at bottles and making drunken demands while grabbing the bartender's attention. After a few minutes of confusion and waiting, you finally got your drinks. You held the bottle in your hands, lifting it to your mouth. You finished the whole thing before putting the bottle back on the counter.

"Gimme another one." You demanded, putting your arm around Wooyoung's waist.

"Noona." Wooyoung grumbled, placing his hands on your shoulder. “I’m taking you home. You’re drunk.”

“Nooo~~~” You whined, pouting. “Come onnnn.”

Wooyoung sighed and reluctantly handed the bartender more money. “Just one more, please.” He ordered.

As soon as he walked back to you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." You whispered, leaning into him.

“Shit…” Wooyoung breathed under his breath. He needed to end this now before things got out of control. He couldn't handle it, the way your face lit up, the way you leaned into him, the sweet smell of alcohol on your skin, your breath becoming heavy as you lean into him, the way your body presses against him…

He should've listened to his gut and told you to go home. Right now, his brain was screaming at him to move away from you and put space between the two of you, but his feet weren't listening to him. His body kept moving forward, like a magnet towards yours.

"Umm...yeah." He mumbled awkwardly. “We better get you home.”

"But..." You started.

"Noona." Wooyoung shook his head. "It's late and I'm not gonna let you drive home. Besides, I'm pretty sure your parents or even your sister won't be happy to find out that you came here alone and drank."

"You're probably right." You nodded before pouting. It took Wooyoung all his strength to not throw you over his shoulder. "You're still a buzzkiller."

“I know, I know. Let’s get you home.” Wooyoung agreed.

After saying your goodbyes to the rest of the group, Wooyoung guided you to the car. On the way to your house, you were almost asleep in the passenger seat. Wooyoung had to carry you to the door and place you inside the house. He carried you to your bedroom and placed you gently on the bed. You instantly fell asleep. He turned off the lights and left you sleeping peacefully.

After sending a quick message to your sister to let her know that you were home, Wooyoung left your house to go home. He was still unsettled and distracted by the thought of being near you. He hadn't gotten the chance to ask you if you had enjoyed the night. If you liked him. Maybe you were just playing along with him to tease him. He'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

You woke up with the worst hangover in history. You couldn't even remember what happened yesterday. Everything seemed blurry and surreal. Your head hurt, you felt nauseous and you wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. But you also wanted to know why you were in your bed. You groaned and lifted your head up, attempting to sit up, only to hit your head back on the pillow.

"Son of a bitch." You swore angrily. "Fuck…"

Your phone rang and you answered it. "You have five minutes to tell me what the fuck you want or I'm hanging up."

You heard Wooyoung laugh on the other end. "Bad hangover, noona?"

"What did I do last night?" You groaned, wincing in pain.

"You were having fun, I guess." Wooyoung shrugged. "You drank too much, that's for sure."

"Did I pass out somewhere?" You asked curiously.

"No but you nearly fell asleep in my car." Wooyoung said. "I brought you home though."

"Thanks for saving my ass." You chuckled.

"Don't mention it." Wooyoung replied. "I'd do anything for you, noona."

"Anything?" You asked with a teasing tone.

"Oh no. What's going on in that head of yours?" Wooyoung joked.

"Coffeeeeee pleaseeee." You whined into the phone. "Now."

"Yeah, okay. Ten minutes. Go shower or something while you wait." Wooyoung chuckled.

After hanging up, you laid back down on your bed and closed your eyes. You felt like shit and Wooyoung was right, you did drink too much. You should've stopped after three beers, but you wanted to keep drinking. And when someone buys you more alcohol, it becomes really easy to continue drinking, even though you feel like shit.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognized yourself. Your hair was messed up, there were smudges of mascara and eyeliner around your eyes, your lips were chapped and there was dried saliva stuck on your teeth. You look disgusting and definitely not presentable. As much as you hated to admit it, you needed a shower. Badly.

You went to the bathroom and hopped into the shower. The hot water helped ease some of your headache, but didn't make the hungover feeling any better. You took your time washing your hair, shampooing and conditioning it. You massaged your scalp, closing your eyes and letting out a small moan of pleasure as the warm water poured onto your skin.

After showering, you threw on some clean sweats and a t-shirt. Then you made your way downstairs. You found Wooyoung talking to Aimee, your younger sister, in the kitchen. They were laughing at something.

"Where's my coffee, Wooyoungie?" You called out, walking towards them.

"Here, you drunk." Wooyoung slid the coffee cup to you as you settled yourself on the stool. "Do you feel any better?"

"I feel like shit." You mumbled, resting your head on the countertop.

"Awhh." Wooyoung pouted, trying to hide his smile.

"Who told you to drink so much, eonni?" Your younger sister shook her head. "Let me guess. Jaehyun broke up with you?"

"I broke up with him." You retorted.

"And you needed a big, stiff drink." Aimee smirked.

"You have no idea how true that is." You laughed.

"Hey, good riddance. That relationship was doomed to fail anyway." Aimee stated. "While I'm happy that you dumped him, I'm a bit sad because Jaehyun was such a gorgeous man."

"Hey, I'm a gorgeous man!" Wooyoung pointed at himself.

Aimee raised her eyebrows. "Keep telling yourself that, Wooyoung."

"I am gorgeous." Wooyoung proclaimed.

"Whatever, loser." Aimee rolled her eyes.

You couldn't help but think that Wooyoung and your sister looked cute together. They were the same age and they always seemed to get along well whenever they spent time together. It wasn't surprising to see that they both found each other attractive, despite their differences in appearance. Their personality and sense of humor made up for it.

A part of you wanted someone as caring and funny as Wooyoung in your life, but then again, your luck in men wasn't great and you never found anyone who could treat you right. It didn't stop you from dreaming though. One day, you promised yourself, you would meet someone and he would change your mind about love and relationships. You wouldn't settle anymore, you would wait for the right guy to come along.

"Well, I hope you feel better." Wooyoung spoke up, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Do you have any plans for the day?"

"Nothing much. Probably go hang out with your brother or something. But I'm kind of tired and want to go back to sleep." You admitted, rubbing your temples.

"Why don't you just stay in today?" Aimee suggested. "I have to head to the office today anyway so I'll pick up dinner after I get off."

"Are you sure?" You asked, tilting your head.

"Yeah, it's fine." Aimee smiled. "Plus, I'd rather have a girls night with my older sister."

"I'm not included?" Wooyoung pouted.

Aimee rolled her eyes. "You're not a girl, you weirdo." She shook her head. "Besides, don't you have to go or something? Don't you have work?"

"Of course, what do you take me for?" Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head.

"Go away, you two." You moaned, head on the countertop. "Your yapping isn't helping my hangover."

Wooyoung grinned widely. "How dare you."

You reached for the coffee and gulped it down quickly. When you finished, you yawned. "I'm gonna crash now." You mumbled. "Thanks for everything, Wooyoungie. Now go to work, make that money."

"Anytime, noona." Wooyoung gave you a hug before leaving the room.

As soon as he was gone, Aimee pulled you into a tight hug. "Good job dumping Jaehyun." She whispered into your ear. "I'm so proud of you, sis."

"He deserves it." You sighed. "How can someone say they like you but then say you're not good enough for him? What kind of bullshit is that?"

"You're right." Aimee nodded. "You deserve someone better."

You hugged your sister back tightly. "Do you have any single friends? Or ex-boyfriends?" You asked hopefully.

"No eonni, I don't." Aimee laughed. "But you and I both know someone who's single."

"Who?" You inquired.

"Wooyoung, duhhhh." Aimee teased.

"Wooyoung?" You repeated, slightly taken aback. "Our Wooyoung? The Wooyoung who just left our house? The cutie-pie Wooyoung who's been our childhood friend for years? That Wooyoung?"

"That Wooyoung." Aimee giggled.

"Weird." You frowned. "I mean…of course he's single. But why? He's such a great catch."

"Maybe he's waiting for the perfect girl." Aimee suggested.

"I don't believe that for one second." You shook your head. "But if he is, I'm sure he'll meet her soon."

"Or maybe he already has." Aimee mused, a smile on her face. "Maybe he's already found that special one and she just doesn't know it yet."

"Mhmm." You hummed in agreement.

"Let's hope he doesn't have to wait too long." Your sister shook her head and grabbed her purse, making her way to the front door. "I'm heading to work now. I'll see you later, okay eonni?"

"Sure thing." You waved goodbye to her.

"Text me what you want for dinner." She instructed and you replied with a thumbs up.

You watched as your sister left the house, shutting the door behind her. You made your way to the couch and sunk into the cushions, curling up into a ball. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering if your day would get any better.

For reasons unknown, you woke up feeling incredibly horny. You had no idea why this would be happening. You haven't gotten laid in quite a few months and when you were still with Jaehyun, the both of you never even had sex. So it was extremely strange to wake up feeling this way.

Okay maybe it was that steamy movie you watched while you were indisposed on the couch. Maybe watching the couple undress and finally having sex made you yearn for some action of your own.

It had to be. Yeah.

You glanced at the clock. It was only noon and you had an entire day ahead of you. Grabbing your phone, you noticed the text messages from Wooyoung that you missed from a few hours ago. Instead of replying to him, you just decided to call him.

"Noona?" Wooyoung greeted, answering the phone immediately. "You good?"

"Yeah, I just woke up again." You huffed. "Are you done with work?"

"Yeah, I'm heading over to your place right now."

"Why?" You questioned, sitting upright. "It's only noon."

"Because you didn't answer Aimee's calls or texts so she got worried." Wooyoung explained. "I felt bad and offered to check on you. Are you okay, noona?"

"How far are you?"

"Pulling up right now. I'm hanging up."

In a few seconds, you heard the keypad to your front door opening and Wooyoung walked inside, taking his shoes off at the entrance. God, he looked so handsome standing there with his slightly disheveled hair, his crisp white shirt and jeans combo making him look casual but still appealing.

You wondered what his body looked like under his clothes and suddenly your imagination started to run wild. Nonono, you couldn't think like that. He was your best friend's younger brother! No matter how attracted you were to him, he wasn't someone you should be sleeping with. You liked him like a little brother and nothing else.

At least, you hoped so.

You pushed the unwanted thoughts out of your mind and smiled as Wooyoung made his way over to you. "Are you okay?" He asked, crouching beside you. "Hangover still bad?"

"Not too bad." You shook your head. "Did you bring me anything?"

"Yeah, here." Wooyoung handed you a bottle of water and some ibuprofen pills. "Take these. You'll feel better in no time."

"Thanks, Wooyoung." You sighed, leaning against him. "How was work?"

"It went pretty well. Hongjoong told me to go home. When your sister called me, he told me to just leave and take care of you."

You nodded. "Sounds like a good friend."

"Definitely." Wooyoung chuckled. "Do you need anything else?"

"I do but I'm not sure if it's something you could help me with." You muttered.

"What's up?" Wooyoung tilted his head. "You could tell me."

You shook your head, your cheeks slightly heating up. "Nononono, you don't need to-"

"Shhh…" Wooyoung placed a finger on your lips, silencing you instantly. "Look, I won't judge you, noona. Whatever you want, I'll try my best to give it to you."

"That's not-"

"Just relax and talk to me." Wooyoung said softly. "Please?"

You looked up at him and thought for a moment. What exactly did you want from him? Would asking him to pleasure you turn things between you and him sexual? Would he actually agree to do it? Did you really want to ask him?

All these questions raced through your mind and you bit your lip nervously. In the end, you decided to throw caution to the wind and see where this would lead you. If it ended badly, you could always cut ties with Wooyoung and go back to being just best friends.

Hopefully.

"Don't judge me okay? Please don't hate me." You breathed, looking away from Wooyoung and staring at the ground. "This might sound weird and I'm sorry if it does."

"I won't hate you, noona." Wooyoung assured you. "Whatever you need, just ask me."

The silence stretched on until you began to wonder if Wooyoung was going to speak. Then he raised an eyebrow at you and nodded once. He leaned forward slightly, giving you space to talk.

"Well...I woke up feeling...fuck, this is embarrassing to say." You huffed. "So here goes."

You took a deep breath and swallowed, telling yourself to just spit it out. You took another deep breath and braced yourself for what you were about to say.

"I..." You paused for a few moments, trying to find the right words to say. "I've been horny all morning. And I've never wanted someone so badly in my life."

Wooyoung gaped at you for a moment before covering his mouth with his hand, stifling his laughter. You stared at him in shock, your face turning bright red. Why did you just admit that? Of course he was gonna laugh. Why did you just open up to him?

"See? I knew it sounded weird!" You buried your face in your hands in embarrassment. "And now I've embarrassed myself even more."

"Calm down, noona." Wooyoung chuckled. "There's no need to be embarrassed."

You felt his hands softly gripping your thigh, stroking your skin lightly. You looked down at him and bit your lower lip anxiously. You weren't sure if he meant what he was doing as comforting or sexual.

"Sorry, I just..." You huffed, shaking your head. "I shouldn't be saying this. I shouldn't be thinking about this."

"I know, but-"

"-I'm just saying." You cut him off. "I'm not usually like this. Like, ever. And I can't believe I'm talking to you about this."

"Tell me what you want, noona." Wooyoung gently coaxed, stroking your thighs once more. "Tell me, show me how to please you."

You bit your lip nervously, feeling Wooyoung's eyes fixated on yours. You stared back at him, unsure of what to say. At the same time, you also felt empowered knowing that you could trust him with this. After all, you were opening up to him because you wanted him to know what you wanted. Right?

Right?

You gulped. "Fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this. Wooyoung..."

"Hmm? Tell me, noona." Wooyoung spoke softly, his voice somehow calming you down. "Show me how you want me to pleasure you."

"Wooyoung..." You whimpered, wanting him to kiss you but also not wanting to risk kissing him. Kissing him would make things...complicated.

"...say it. Just say it." Wooyoung repeated, running his fingers up and down your thigh. "Say whatever you want. Don't be afraid. Say it out loud."

You bit your lower lip and furrowed your brows. Fuck it all. You were just gonna go for it. You were just gonna fuck around with Wooyoung and see where this would take you. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

You grabbed his hand and placed it under your sweatpants, letting him fondle your already moist pussy through your underwear. "Fuck, I need you to finger me, eat me out. Touch me, make me come."

"Let's get rid of your sweatpants first." He let out a small chuckle. "Let's do this properly."

You let out a small moan as you felt him tug on your sweatpants, pushing them down below your hips. Your panties came next and after that, you were completely naked from the waist down. On his knees, he grabbed your hips and pulled you to sit on the edge of the couch cushions, positioning himself directly in front of you.

"Oh my god, Wooyoung..." You gasped, feeling his lips trailing small kisses up your thighs. You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his hair, encouraging him to continue.

"Tell me, noona." He asked softly, planting small kisses on your inner thighs. "What do you want?"

By no means was Wooyoung inexperienced when it came to sex. He'd gone out with quite a few women, which gave him plenty of experience. But the fact that he wanted you to tell him what to do made you feel empowered. Not only was he giving you what you wanted, he was listening to you as well. And you wanted him to know that you enjoyed having him do those things to you.

Your breathing quickened as Wooyoung continued to explore your body, kissing and licking along the sides of your thighs, brushing your folds with his tongue. You moaned as he trailed kisses along your inner thigh and began teasing your clit with his tongue. He was fucking amazing at it, using his tongue to flick the sensitive nub. With every pass, your moans grew louder and you gripped his hair tighter, encouraging him to do even more.

"Fuck..." You whispered hoarsely. "Please don't stop, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung replied with a smile. "Keep talking, noona. I want to hear what you're saying. Want to know if you're feeling good."

He continued to lick and suck on your clit while simultaneously teasing your hole with his tongue, slowly drawing your arousal to its peak. You kept your hands around his head, tugging at his hair and moaning loudly as he kept pleasuring you. His fingers ran through your wetness and brought them back to his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.

Fuck, you wanted his fingers in your mouth. Wanted to lick them, suck them dry.

As if reading your mind, he lifted his fingers to your lips. "Noona, suck my fingers." He ordered.

Reluctantly, you parted your lips and closed your teeth around his digits. You sucked hard, pulling at his fingers with your mouth. He moaned in delight and tightened his grip on your hips, guiding his fingers back to your pussy.

You wiggled beneath him, letting him push one finger inside of you. The sensation of his digits stretching your insides almost made you cry out. He then inserted a second finger, adding a third one later on. His mouth never left your pussy, though, continuing to lick you mercilessly as he slid his fingers in and out of you. Every thrust was like fire coursing through your body. It was too much and you quickly began panting heavily. You could barely think straight anymore, everything but him, his touch, his hot breath on your pussy.

His tongue was magic and you could feel your orgasm building rapidly. "Oh shit...Wooyoung, oh my god."

"Are you close, noona?" He asked you in between licks.

You whimpered, unable to form any words. All you wanted was to scream, yell out, tell him to hurry the fuck up and make you come. "Oh god...I...I can't...stop...oh god..."

Wooyoung increased his pace, sucking on your clit and rubbing his fingers against your walls. You couldn't help it. Soon enough, your orgasm hit you like a truck.

Your entire body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body tensed as your juices coated Wooyoung's fingers and his lips. And then you collapsed back onto the couch, gasping for air. You could feel your body shaking from your orgasm and Wooyoung grinned proudly at you.

When your heartbeat returned to normal, you sat up and patted Wooyoung on the cheek. "Wow, Wooyoung. That was incredible."

"Did I do good, noona? Are you happy?" He smiled sweetly at you, patting his hand against your ass playfully.

"Mhm, I loved it." You replied, blushing. "Thank you for indulging me."

"I'll do anything you want, noona." Wooyoung assured you, wrapping his arms around you. "Whenever you want."

"That's good to know." You smiled, leaning into him. "So, wanna keep fooling around some more?"

"Is that what you want?" He asked you with a smirk. "To keep fooling around?"

"Hell yeah." You laughed. "Can we?"

"Anything for you, noona." He grinned.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry of kissing. Eventually, you two had moved into the bedroom, the rest of your clothes strewn across the floor. Wooyoung's shirt and jeans were tossed to the side of the bed and you noticed that he was only wearing boxers. You stared at his abs, tracing your fingers along the line of his stomach muscles.

You kissed him deeply, knowing that kissing him was going to get complicated. But you didn't care. Who cares if things got complicated. You'll reach that hurdle eventually anyway. Right?

"My turn." You murmured against his lips. He sat on the edge of the bed as you dropped to your knees in front of him. "I wanna taste you, Wooyoung."

He moaned at your words, reaching down and running his hands through your hair. "You don't have to do this for me, noona..."

"But I want to. Please, Wooyoung?" You pleaded with him, licking your lips seductively. "Please let me taste you."

"You're not drunk, are you?" He teased, chuckling slightly.

You laughed as well, biting your bottom lip. "Nope, just trying to cure a hangover."

Wooyoung smirked. "Then taste me whenever you want, noona."

You wasted no time in sucking on his erection, wrapping your lips around him and sliding him deep into your throat. He groaned in pleasure, holding onto your hair tightly. You liked the rough feeling of his hands on your hair, like you belonged there, sucking him off.

With your free hand, you squeezed his balls gently, massaging them with your thumb. A moan escaped his lips as you slowly bobbed your head up and down, taking him deeper each time until his tip hit the back of your throat. You looked up at him and he let out another moan before grabbing onto your hair once again.

You hummed with satisfaction, knowing that he liked what you were doing to him. As you licked and sucked on his dick, you ran your fingers along his shaft, lightly playing with his sack and stroking his head. It wasn't long before he was pushing his hips up, forcing his cock further down your throat. This excited you and you held his cock tight, not wanting him to pull away.

"You're such a good girl." He praised you.

You giggled. "Good girls are rewarded."

Wooyoung chuckled. "Alright then, good girl. Be rewarded."

As soon as he said that, you felt his warm seed coat your throat. You gulped a little at the feeling of him coming down your throat and used your hands to massage his shaft and testicles, making sure to take every last drop of cum out of him. When he was finished, he collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. You crawled up next to him, placing soft kisses on his chest and shoulders.

You weren't satisfied yet. So you proceeded to start sucking on his nipples, causing him to moan in pleasure. "I want more, Wooyoung." You breathed.

"How much more?" He asked you teasingly. “You're so insatiable, aren't you?”

"You've got all day to please me." You responded slyly. "All night."

Wooyoung chuckled as you straddled him, grinding your wet pussy against his cock. "Hmm...Sounds tempting, noona."

"Will you satisfy me?" You asked him, watching as his eyes darkened with lust.

"Of course." He growled, pulling you towards him as he sat up. His hands wandered over your soft skin. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

His words made you shiver. You knew exactly what you wanted and now you were going to get it. And Wooyoung was going to give it to you. You could feel yourself growing moist at the thought of his big cock filling you.

"What would you like, noona?" He asked you seriously. "I'll do whatever you want."

"I want you inside me." You kissed him softly on the lips. "Give me your big cock."

"Yes, yes, baby." He groaned as you took his penis into your hands. "Put it in, noona."

You slowly slid him inside of you. "Fuuuck." You gasped. "That feels so good."

"Fuck yeah." Wooyoung moaned, staring into your eyes lovingly. "Feels good, right?"

"Mmhmm." You nodded, pressing your breasts against his chest as he thrust his hips upward, driving himself deeper into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind his back. The position felt amazing. You could easily grind your pussy against his dick as he pushed it in and out of you.

"It feels so good, noona." He moaned, resting his forehead against yours.

"Me too." You agreed, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Every inch feels so fucking good."

Wooyoung kissed you deeply, nibbling on your lower lip. "I'm glad, noona." He whispered, nipping on your earlobe. "God, you're beautiful. You're taking me in so well, noona. Feels so damn good."

Your body was starting to heat up again and you moaned when he bit down on your neck. "Ah! Ah!" You yelled out, closing your eyes and clenching around his shaft. "Oh, fuck."

"Tell me, noona." Wooyoung urged, licking your neck. "Say what you need."

"Ohhh, fuck." You cried out, digging your nails into his back. "Wooyoung...mmm..please..."

Wooyoung released your neck and slowly began thrusting his hips up, sliding his cock in and out of you. "Say it, noona." He moaned, lowering his head and suckling your breast. "Say what you want."

You pulled his hair roughly, moaning. "More, please, more..."

"You like this, don't you, noona?" He asked you, chuckling lightly. "Don't worry. I won't stop."

You shook your head, looking into his eyes. "No, please don't stop." You whined. "Just keep fucking me."

He thrust harder, sending shockwaves throughout your body. "I'll fuck you all day and all night, noona. Every single second. No matter when and where you want it, I'll give it to you." He promised you, rocking his hips faster and faster. "I want to feel your tight pussy around my cock. Tighten up around me, noona."

And you did just that. You tightened around his cock and moaned loudly, unable to contain your pleasure. "Oh god, fuck, Wooyoung...that's so good."

You both started moaning louder and louder as your orgasms hit you. And you didn't want it to end. Not now, not ever. And you swore that it wouldn't. You continued to rock your hips back and forth, wanting him to stay buried inside of you forever.

He slowed his thrusts only to position you onto your hands and knees. He grabbed hold of your hips, pushing them back against his waist as he rammed himself into you again.

"Holy shit." He exclaimed, panting heavily. "I can't believe how tight you are."

You whimpered as he gripped your hips tighter. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" He mumbled.

He ran a hand along your naked back, the other holding your hip. You closed your eyes and just enjoyed the sensation of being fucked, completely and utterly taken. Your body sagged against the mattress, pushing your ass back towards him and giving him even more access to your pussy. He couldn't get enough of you. You rocked your hips, thrusting back against him, meeting each of his hard thrusts with your own.

"Jesus Christ, noona." Wooyoung cursed under his breath. "This feels so good. So goddamn good."

"Do it, Wooyoung." You panted. "Fill me with your cum. Fill me with your cum."

He leaned forward and kissed and sucked on the back of your neck and shoulder as he thrust his hips up into you, emptying his entire load into your eager pussy. His entire body tensed as he came, the waves of his orgasm radiating through him. With every wave of his climax, you came closer to climaxing again and the feeling was mind-blowing. You'd never felt anything like it. You could feel his hot seed oozing out of your pussy and covering your walls. His cock stayed buried inside of you for a few moments longer before finally slipping out.

You collapsed on the bed, gasping for air as you tried to catch your breath. "Wooyoung...god, Wooyoung..."

He collapsed next to you, running his fingers through your hair. "Baby, you okay?" He asked you, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You nodded, grinning happily. "Didn't expect you to cum three times though."

"I didn't expect you to cum three times either." He smiled.

"Yeah, now I'm exhausted." You sighed.

"It's alright, baby. You can rest if you want." He assured you. "I've got you."

"Okay." You nodded, snuggling up close to him.

You quickly fell asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat.

The moonlight shone through the curtains and you groggily opened your eyes. For a brief moment, you thought you heard something but shook your head. No, there wasn't anyone else in the room. Only you and Wooyoung.

You yawned, looking down at Wooyoung who was lying beside you. A blanket covered both of your bodies and he snored peacefully against your chest.

You went and did it. You fucked your best friend's younger brother. Well, sort of. More like he fucked you but still.

But you didn't regret it. In fact, it was one of the best nights of your life. You didn't know why but something about it felt natural.

"Noona..." Wooyoung mumbled against your skin, interrupting your thoughts.

You glanced down at him, feeling his soft lips on your neck. He was facing away from you, sleeping soundly. Your heart fluttered as you brushed your fingertips across his back. Oh my god, you thought. You really love this man. You loved him way more than you should have.

Maybe you'd been in love with him this whole time and just now noticed it. Maybe he was attracted to you as well but chose not to admit it. Or maybe you're delusional. It was possible.

Whatever the case, you couldn't deny the strong connection you shared with Wooyoung. Whether you ended up dating each other or not, you knew you wouldn't regret tonight.

At least, not yet.

With a sigh, you tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. You looked at him again, feeling yourself growing warmer.

He was perfect. Asleep or awake, the boy was gorgeous.

"Wooyoung?"

"Hmm?" He sleepily moaned, shifting slightly in your embrace.

"Are you still sleeping?" You asked, worried. "Shouldn't you be heading home?"

"It's late." He mumbled, snuggling closer to your body and closing his eyes. "And I feel comfortable here. Just let me spend the night."

"What if my sister comes home?" You frowned. "Do you want her to catch us in bed together?"

"She won't. She told me earlier that she was going to her boyfriend's when I offered to take care of you." He chuckled lightly.

You ran your fingers through his hair. "And you didn't bother to tell me this?"

"If I did, you would have told me to go home. We wouldn't be having this conversation right now." He sighed, cupping your face. "Let's stay like this, okay? At least until morning."

"Fine." You huffed, wrapping your arms around him. "I'm not exactly complaining."

"Good." Wooyoung kissed your forehead before pressing his lips to yours gently.

"Wooyoung, what are we now? Because our relationship has definitely changed after today." You mused, tracing the curve of his jawline with your fingertip.

"We're more than just friends now." He said lightly, running his fingers down your arm. "There's nothing stopping us from dating now. You know this, right? We're both adults. What's stopping us?"

What was stopping you? Other than that tiny voice in the back of your head. You weren't ready to give up the friendship you shared with Wooyoung just yet. Dating him would complicate things way too much. You weren't ready to deal with a breakup or hurting him.

"Y/N," He called out and you couldn't help but bite your lower lip. That was the first time he called you by your name and not noona. "I want to be with you. I don't want to hide anything from you anymore. I want you to know everything about me. I want you to see me and not see just a kid that I used to be."

"Wooyoung..." Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. "How long have you felt this way?"

"Since forever." He sighed, moving to kiss your nose. "I've liked you for as long as I can remember. Always wanting to be near you, watch you, listen to you speak."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" You pouted, lowering your head to look at him.

"Why should I?" He shrugged. "If you don't feel the same way, then I wouldn't want to pressure you into something you aren't comfortable doing."

"Wooyoung, I-"

"-want to date you, Y/N." He cut you off, grinning mischievously at you. "Not just for sex, although I want that too, but because I actually want to date you."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Huh?"

"I want to take you out. Spend time with you. Be with you. All the time. Not as just friends or you being my older brother's friend. I want to be with you. Love you." He lowered his voice, nibbling on your bottom lip. "Just you."

A surge of warmth flooded your body. "Really?" You asked quietly, smiling shyly at him. "You mean that?"

"Of course, baby.” He laughed lightly. "Who else do you think would say such stupid things to you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Some guy named Wooyoung." You quipped back.

"Ha ha, very funny." He groaned, cupping your cheek before capturing your lips in his.

"Wooyoung..." You whispered against his lips. "You know I love you, right?"

"Since when?" He whispered back, leaning forward and pressing his lips to your neck. "Noona, why haven't you said it to me sooner?"

"Because I wasn't sure if I loved you." You admitted, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze. "But now I am."

"Ahhh..." Wooyoung moaned softly. "I love you too, Y/N."

"Wait, I didn't hear you." You laughed, grabbing hold of his collar. "Say it again."

"Noona...I love you." He repeated himself, gazing at you with adoring eyes. "I love you."

You kissed him deeply, loving how responsive he was to your kisses. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, leaving trails of fire on your lips. Suddenly, you pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. "I love you too, Wooyoung."

"Fuck, Y/N..." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand. "My hyung is gonna kill me."

"Don't worry about him." You laughed. "He'll be happy that his best friend and his younger brother finally found happiness together."

"You really love me right?" He asked, his lips on your shoulder.

"More than you'll ever know." You replied softly, staring into his dark eyes. "I know I complain about my bad luck in men and that I just wanted someone to give me proper love and care. Guess he was right in front of me, all along."

"I'll make sure to treat you with love and care from now on." Wooyoung promised, pressing another kiss to your neck.

"Promise?" You giggled, biting his bottom lip.

"Absolutely." He smirked at you. "Y/N, you're the only woman I will ever want."

"Hmmm." You hummed, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Then let's just stay in bed all night...hmm?"

"Oh yeah, you're absolutely right." Wooyoung grinned, bringing you even closer to him. "We should stay in bed.”

[nouearth]

life of a writer blog on tumblr:

accounts, who don't even follow you, rushing you to hurry up with their requests through tumblr messages. they've never went through your rules and guidelines, so they send their request through there!

what makes me annoyed is when these users pretty much detail their request from scene to scene, word to word. at this point, why not write it yourself? i kid you not, i've gotten multiple 400-500 word requests, and they would later demand me to make it "extra detailed, extra long, extra smutty, etc."

this began at the start of my account, so i was pretty excited to take on any requests, but the blog grew pretty quick, and my inbox already had 20+ requests, lol. they'd leave me on read after asking them questions, and would only check up on their requests after a few months. and still, they haven't followed me, or have shown any support for my works. it's a petty problem, sure, but 🤷 i'm not going out my way to be writing a 10k fic per request if you haven't shown me any love!

y'all, i do this for free. i do this as a hobby. this is supposed to be fun, and i get a lot of asks as well (99% i just delete them because why should i give them the spotlight) to hurry up with requests. i have a life. i just graduated. i should be focusing paying my student loans. i should be focusing on family and friends. i'm not writing 24/7.

i have so many responsibilities in my life that i prioritize over writing for a few hundred likes on tumblr. it's becoming more scarce to have users leave feedback on stories on here. i don't even know if the anons i've written a fic for even read them because they rarely leave any messages that they did (to those that did, you know who you are, ily).

it's draining most of the times. the community on here feels so small, yet so distant at the same time.

[cameliawrites]

Kanej Fic Recs: The "Figuring Out Intimacy" Trope

If you're anything like me, you're a glutton for very specific fic tropes applied to your very favorite OTPs (and we all know my OTP of OTPs is kanej). To this end, ao3 tags are your best friend. When you see that delicious combination of tags like "emotional hurt/comfort" and "healing" and "pining" with some sort of moody, vaguely poetic title, that's the good shit right there. That is a MEAL, and you are about to feast.

Anyways. I'm getting off track.

I come to you today with more than just an offering to the potluck; I am here to open up the doors to the whole damn buffet. That's right - FIC RECS. Specifically, fic recs that scratch the particular itch for "post-canon fics where Kaz and Inej figure out how to touch each other, but really the Physical Armor is always symbolic of the Emotional Armor that they have to learn to lower if they hope to ever really Be Together." Do you know what I'm talking about? If you know, you know. It's kanej figuring out intimacy. It's touch, but it's about the way they touch each other's souls. It's a fandom-classic fic trope. FEAST AWAY. (And feel free to reblog and add any of your own favorites! This is certainly not an exhaustive list, just some favorites of mine that fit the bill.)

They're all complete, they're all canon compliant (I had to set some limitations because my list was getting out of hand lol), and they're listed in order of rating (T, M, etc.), but otherwise they're in no particular order, and the summaries and/or most of the excerpts are those provided by the authors on ao3!

Can We Stop? by thegoldenkneazle (Rated G, 220 words, drabble)

Excerpt:

Kaz immediately drew back, rolling over onto his side of the creaky bed to create space between them. “Are you okay?” he asked, dark eyebrows drawing together.

Every Time We Touch by Pokemon67 (Rated G, 1k words, oneshot)

Summary: "Inej hadn't been exaggerating. It wasn’t easy for her either."

Excerpt:

She couldn’t quite recall how they’d ended up here, in Kaz’s room, on his bed. She was perched on his legs, right in front of him, and if she raised her head she could look into his eyes count the little flecks of gold the light always teased to her were there. 

Uncharted Waters by insignificant457 (Rated T, 5k words, oneshot)

Summary: "One step on the long and winding road to intimacy."

Excerpt:

Perhaps Inej should be insulted that she’s been penciled into Kaz’s schedule, fit snugly in between a Crow Club shareholders’ meeting and a parley with the Liddies, but when it comes to taking steps forward in their relationship, romantic spontaneity is not exactly something they can afford.

Council of the Tides by blacktag189 (Rated T, 15k words, multichap)

Excerpt:

With each tiny step forward they made, the urgency to be pulled out to sea still built. She couldn't ignore the brutal truth in that - that no matter how much he gave her here...one day everything would align just right and she would leave. But today wasn't that day.

Discover the Rest by Silver_89 (Rated T, 4k words, oneshot) (note: restricted to ao3 account holders)

Summary: "Post Crooked Kingdom fic where Kaz and Inej have made some progress with touch but touch is not the only progress Inej wants to see from him. She wants to know him too."

Excerpt:

Inej didn’t share much about her time at the Menagerie...And yet she had shared that she struggled with touch too. He understood why. But she didn’t know why he was the same. I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all. It was time he tried taking it off.

All Flowers in Time (Bend Towards the Sun) by laurie_ipsum (Rated M, 10k words, multichap)

Summary: "Does this fandom need yet another Kaz and Inej figure out intimacy fic? Probably not, but I did it anyway."

Excerpt:

Kaz wants all his firsts. It’s written in his eyes, on his face, in every line of his body. She can tell it terrifies him. It terrifies her, too.

One Thousand and One Nights by Trogdor19 (Rated M, 11k words, multichap)

Summary: "One new touch, every night…"

Excerpt:

He dips his head, his cheekbone brushing against hers so quietly it’s like the way she moves. So silkily between shadows no one’s ever quite sure it happened. 'Wait for me,' he breathes. The letters barely given enough air to shape them.

The Trouble With Wanting by A_nonnie_mouse (Rated M, 6k words, oneshot, part of a series)

Summary: "Inej begins to reckon with her own armor so she can have what, and who, she wants."

Excerpt:

“Kaz.” She was frustrated at his self-deprecation. “Please understand. My mind wants you. My heart longs for you. My body…” She struggled for words, the shame rising again, threatening her eyes with tears. “My body isn’t entirely convinced something horrible isn’t going to happen again. This wasn’t because of you. You understand that, don’t you?” 

show me where my armor ends (show me where my skin begins) by kingsandqueensofthebarrel (Rated M, 25k words, oneshot)

Excerpt:

“You’re something I want, Wraith,” he says, his tone all business like. “And I don’t stop until I have what I want.” “That could have sounded romantic.” “It’s a fact.” She hums and squeezes his hand.

collision course by cameliawrites (Rated M, 10k words, oneshot) (shameless self-promotion)

Excerpt:

Inej adjusts to Kaz the way that winter adjusts to spring: she thaws, and thaws, and thaws—and then she utterly melts.

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars by sarathedreamer (Rated M, 54k words, multichap, part of a series)

Summary: "Kaz and Inej learning to be with one another after Crooked Kingdom (events in Rule of Wolves might be mentioned in later chapters but you'll be warned!) Basically a slow burn filled with angst and fluff, and little plot :)"

Excerpt:

She blushed and felt a smile tug at her lips, so she looked down at his hand, held up in front of her like an invitation. His fingers were barely shaking. Inej looked back up at his eyes, asking a silent question once more, and Kaz nodded after a short hesitation. She gently cupped his hand in hers, fascinated by the softness of it, by the way two of hers were not quite enough to hold one of his. No one but she could know how graceful Dirtyhands’ weapons were under his gloves, and that was another one of his secrets she would gladly keep close to her chest.

Things We Can Never Do by rainstormdragon (Rated E, 3k words, oneshot, part of a series)

Excerpt:

They had done this before more than once. First words, then their hands on their own bodies. Gasped encouragement and shared fantasies. “Tell me what you’d want to do,” he urged her, not moving even a hair’s breadth toward her, giving her the safety of the space between them. “Tell me what you’d want me to do.”

Closer by lilieswho (Rated E, 7k words, oneshot)

Excerpt:

There is a deep desire crawling under Inej’s skin. It’s a feeling she’s begun to grow used to by now — the feeling of wanting someone, wishing for their touch and hoping they wish for hers back. Not someone’s, no. Kaz’s.

If you've made it all the way to the end of this rec list (hi!! thanks!), you should absolutely reply to or reblog this post with your favorite "kanej figure out intimacy" fic, whether it's on this list or something else! :) Support your local organic pasture-raised fic authors, etc. etc.

[fettuccin-e]

Hi! Congratulations on your 3k followers!!!

Can I request ❝  don’t be nervous,  i’ll guide you through it.  ❞ with Poe?

Ty!

hello!! first poe request AHHHHHHH (if you want a secret nonnie i actually have a 10k poe fic sitting in my wips wahhh) HOWEVER this will be the first poe content i've ever published!!! so thank you!!! i hope you like the little blurb :)

Tags: Poe Dameron x Reader, afab!fem!reader, phone sex (holovid sex?? same diff), mutual masturbation, fem!petnames, dirty talk lol who do you think i am (w/c: 897)

Find the prompts for the 3K Celebration here!

You sit across the bed, holovid propped up across from you, Poe projected from it. He’s been gone on a mission for so long, too fucking long, and you know that the desperation you feel for him is painfully mutual.

Of course, taking your clothes off for your boyfriend in person is far less intimidating than stripping for him in the emptiness of your bedroom as he watches from lightyears away.

You can’t help how you close your legs from his view as you sit across from him, still in your sleep shirt, and fiddle with your hands. Somehow, he seems to be opposite to you in nearly every way, wonderfully bare-chested, in his pajama bottoms and radiating pure confidence. He’s ethereal.

“Don’t be nervous, baby, I’ll guide you through it,” he croons, and fuck, his voice through your earpiece makes it seem like he’s right up against your ear. You shiver, visibly, and you watch a smug grin spread across his face. 

He already knows your answer, but you whisper out a faint, “Okay,” anyway.

“Alright sweetheart, spread those legs for me, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod, just barely, before you spread yourself for him. He’s seen you naked before, he’s done much more than just see you, but this? This feels vulnerable in a way you’ve never felt before. It feels raw, the way Poe just stares at your slick cunt through the monitor, unabashed and hungry.

“Good girl, honey,” he says, and Maker, your pussy weeps at those words. You are good, you’re always good for him. “Go ahead and rub that perfect clit for me.” Your hand moves, faster than you meant it to, before Poe is murmuring, “Slow, baby, slow. Just like I do, right?” And it’s true. You bring your hand down to your aching clit, tracing over it slow, too fucking slow, just like your bastard of a lover always does.

You gasp. “Poe, it’s- I’m so wet,” you whine, almost shocked at how slick and achy your pussy is. Poe isn’t even here, and yet, your cunt gushes at the sight of him through the holovid, his voice crooning in your ear.

“Maker, I know, baby, I know. Look at you-” he groans as he pulls out his cock from his pajama pants, gripping the shaft in his strong hand. It should be you, that should be your hand. “Look so perfect for me, my sweet girl,” he murmurs, “one finger baby, go ahead and put one in.”

You nod, wordless and desperate, as you sink your middle finger inside yourself, pressing your thumb to your clit. You’re so empty, cold without his weight on your back, his thick fingers filling you up, his cock breaking you apart. “Need- need more,” you whine, high in the back of your throat, “please, Poe, ‘s not- it’s not enough.”

“Hey,” he coos, “‘s alright, honey. I’m gonna take care of you,” you watch, through lidded eyes, as he tugs on his cock, eyes trained on where your finger plunges relentlessly into your cunt. “Add another, baby,” he whispers, and you don’t waste any time doing just that.

Two quickly turns into three, your desperation for each other, the long nights spent apart, running your patience painfully thin. The tip of Poe’s cock is shiny and slick, and his chest heaves with every pass of his hand. Beautiful, he’s so fucking beautiful like this.

“Can’t wait to get home to you,” he groans, enthralled as you hump your hips into your hand, fucking yourself as deep as you can with just your three fingers. “Gonna- gonna keep you in bed for days, stars, baby, I’m going to fuck that beautiful pussy so fucking hard, the whole base will hear it.”

You hiccup as you moan, your body flushing with a heat that is both embarrassed and painfully aroused. Your cunt clenches around your furious fingers as you jackhammer them in and out of your heaving body, hanging onto every word that slips out of Poe’s mouth. “Poe- I can’t- I can’t, stars, I want to cum, please, please let me cum.”

Poe bulldozes on, pulling his hand back to spit on it, all lewd and primal, before furiously jerking his cock again. He’s so much rougher with himself than you are with him, rushing himself to the end so that he can tumble over the precipice with you.

“Maker, baby, so fucking- so fucking gorgeous, can’t wait to eat that pretty cunt, wanna taste you so bad right now, sweet girl.” He groans through gritted teeth, but he doesn’t tear his eyes from you, not for a moment. “Use that other hand, pretty girl, and rub your clit. Hard.”

You let your free hand fall to your clit, working yourself over as you keep fucking your fingers in and out. “Fuck-” you nearly scream with it, “‘m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Cum, sweetheart,” he grits, and you sob as you clench around your fingers, rubbing hard circles into your clit with your other hand, as you watch Poe splatter cum over his hand through the holo. It’s intoxicating to watch, the way his eyes clench shut, his mouth gapes open. 

Your mind whirls with ideas of how you can get him to look like that again and again. As soon as he gets home to you.

[its-actually-minicika]

The Harshest Winters (18+!)

Part 3;

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader x bookcanon Aemond;

Warnings: all of them tbh, it's Harshest Winters we're talking about;

Word Count: 10k+

Author's Note: IT'S FINALLY HERE!! I'm honestly overwhelmed by the love this fic got in the span of so little time 😭 I hope you guys enjoy this part as well! Thank you so much for being so patient with me <3

Also, this chapter is FILTHY. I'm talking actual smut for the first time in my life, which makes me both nervous and embarrassed to be posting this lol

I know that the people who read this particular series are already used to the graphic content ahead, but consider this your fair warning :"))

PART 4 IS OUT NOW <3

As night swallows the world of Westeros, four beating hearts must get through the challenges that arise in the absence of sunlight.

Desire is the death of duty - fear pushes against the voice of reason.

Dreams really are the window to the soul sometimes.

One… Two… Three… Four.

Aemond’s breathing came and went in slow and labored pants. Whatever the man was dreaming about must have had quite the effect on him, and the lady scoffed to herself, while pushing down a disdainful huff.

Slowly, yet surely, her head rolled to the side. She could still see him in her periphery - the deep creases that adorned his forehead, a permanent reminder of his relentless character; the way his chest heaved each exhale, as if constantly pained by an unknown affliction.

Good, she thought to herself, At least his dreams should torment him, if his psyche won't allow it.

In… And out. In… Out.

Three weeks had passed since her brazen attempt to escape with Cain. Three weeks, since she left the wounded knight in the cave: to rot or to crawl back by himself.

Back.

Back to where?

Back home? That much was impossible.

Back to the Saltpans? And from there on… what?

Three weeks. Three weeks had passed to account for her life back in Harrenhal. Three weeks of sleeping in the same bed as him, three weeks in which her only waking thought was to grab a pillow and smother him with it as he slept soundly by her side.

Goosebumps crawled over her skin, leaving the lady restless and aggravated. She’d twist and turn more times than she could count - she’d curse herself and her current situation: her weakness, her inability to kill Aemond then and there.

She had to live. She had promised Jace that much, and she would honor her word.

There would be a time for Aemond to meet his end. And it would be by her hand.

Jace.

If he were here, he’d know what to do.

Her thoughts turned sporadic. For a few moments, the girl clenched her fists so hard that her knuckles turned white - squeezing harder as her anger built up. Each of her fingernails bit into the softness of her palm, and she could feel herself draw harsher breaths, in and out: all in a desperate attempt to calm herself down.

Her heart beat loudly, and her body trembled in unquenched rage.

She could still kill him now; Gods, how she wished nothing more adherently than that. And why not kill him - for his death would avenge Jacaerys, Luke… Cain.

Indeed, here she was, laying down next to the Kinslayer, one step away from wrapping her small fingers against his throat and pushing down with an unrivaled force and fury.

Before she could fully process her own actions, (Y/N) slowly rose from her resting place. The wide bed made a deep creaking sound, which echoed throughout the room for a couple of moments.

One, two, three seconds she allowed herself to wait.

The girl remained unmoving, as she took in a sharp breath, and held it in the back of her throat.

Her weary eyes skimmed over Aemond’s sleeping form, and her whole body stiffened in anticipation. When she noticed his lack of a reaction, a soft sigh parted from her rosy lips, and a deep scowl settled over her fair features.

Reason fought with ire and, eventually, the former succeeded in its quiet assertion.

Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, and the lady of Riverrun shut them tightly; it was Jacaerys’ voice that then rang in her ears.

‘You know what your only fault is?’ He let out a roaring laugh while engulfing her back with his stronger arms. She turned around to face him, abruptly so, and her hands came to rest over his broad and shaking chest. 'I remember a boy who once said I had no faults.' The lady laughed with him, whilst rubbing small circles in the cuff of his sparring vest.

He kissed the top of her head with a wistful smile, and glanced at her with a boyish glimmer in his hawk-like eyes. 'Please accept my humblest apologies, my darling love. I merely meant: do you know what the only thing that’s too good about you is?’

(Y/N) let out a soft giggle, mirroring Jace’s look of full, unadulterated love. She furrowed her brows comically, before tracing his jaw with her free hand. ‘Enlighten me, then, My Prince…’

Upon hearing his title cascade from her plump lips, the Prince of Dragonstone dived in to press his forehead onto hers. He took in a shaky breath, and gently cupped her cheek to kiss her. ‘You are far too loyal for your own good. You care too much for the people you let in. It makes you angry and brash - it makes you take too many risks.’

The threat of a sob was forming on her wobbly lip. (Y/N) bit it harshly, and sucked in another breath. Her tight hold replaced the tender meat of her inner palm, with the silky sheets of their shared bedding. A lone tear parted from her shut eye, rolling over her face, and staining her cotton nightdress.

‘It makes me quite jealous - your fearlessness and devotion.’ Jacaerys muttered against her ear, whilst pampering her with chaste, soft kisses. ‘When I make you my Queen, I might just make it so that you can only see and take care of me.’ He jested lightly, eliciting a chuckle from the laying girl.

Her hand reached for his soft, curly locks, and she twirled each strand against her slim fingers. ‘Should you make me your wife, Jace, I don’t think I’d ever part from you again.’

His eyes held a fire in them; the Velaryon prince reached for her tangled hand, and took it in his own, pressing it against his waiting mouth. ‘You will be my wife. My Princess.’ His voice was laced with naught but determination and love. ‘One day, we’ll both be crowned before the masses: and you will be the most beloved Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.’

‘When we marry, you will be mine, as I already am yours.’ He pledged with a final, delicate caress.

With each palpable reminder of him, her jaw clenched tighter and tighter. The suffering that erupted from deep within her chest both fueled and exhausted the lady and, soon enough, the girl found herself laying down again, wetting her pillow with endless rivers of tears.

The chastising fires of sleep licked at her conscious mind, and, although strained by her lover’s swift reminder, the woman fell into a deep sleep.

Oh, and how beautiful the dream was.

Although it wasn’t an exact replica of the way they first met, it more than made up for it with its stilling beauty.

***

He held his hand out to her, a polite smile plastered across his face. Her older brothers gave her a knowing look - there would be no higher honor for a Tully than to be singled out during the banquet of the Crown Prince's sixteenth name day.

Together, they danced not one, not two, not three… but seven dances during that blessed evening.

Her feet were aching and, with the redness of his cheeks and the lightness on his handsome face, the girl guessed she had at least had the same effect on the Prince, as he had on her.

They talked all throughout the night, sharing fond stares and quiet giggles that echoed and bounced off the hard stone walls.

“Why haven’t we met before, My Lady?” Jacaerys questioned with an upward quirk of his brow and a charming smile upon his lips.

“I’m afraid such questions will have to be taken up with my Grandfather, Your Grace.” As she mirrored his contagious grin, the young girl carried on, “I’ve… been at court while I was younger, and remained in the Red Keep for a couple of years, but the quiet of the Riverlands always suited me better.”

“We’re very similar, you and I, Lady Tully.” Jace let out in a long huff, straightening his back against the cold patio of the Royal Gardens. “I… I know that it is my duty, to confer with the other Lords and Ladies and make idle talk, but… I must admit that it can be quite…”

“Straining?” (Y/N) suggested with a quizzical quirk of her brow.

Jacaerys’ face broke into a beaming smile, and the Heir to the Iron Throne nodded affirmatively. “Exactly that, My Lady. I’m afraid, sometimes, that it shows on my face.” He joked half heartedly as he scrunched up his nose - though his posture remained upright and fair.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and the girl shook her head definitively. “I assure you, Your Grace, it couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Jace.”

“... I beg your pardon?”

“Friends and family just call me Jace.”

A knowing look was shared between them, and (Y/N) allowed her eyes to trail downwards, resting on the velvet flowers that adorned the well-kept garden. Her cheeks felt as though they caught on fire, and the lady was sure that her face held a comical rouge to it, thanks to Jacaerys’ insistent staring.

She knew well what came after that - she remembered how she hurried to allow Jace the same courtesy, of calling her by her given name, and how they both laughed at the other’s awkwardness.

And yet…

The Velaryon’s laughter turned into a painful cry. As if possessed, he started shaking his head. Then his limbs. Then his body.

“But dead men do not need names, do they, (Y/N)?”

Her head shot up - blood began pumping in her ears, and her heartbeat hammered against her chest.

“W-What?”

“I am dead, I am dead, I am dead,” He wailed continuously, “Can’t you see it, my love? Can you not see?”

Strong arms came to hold her from behind - wrapped up in algae, with flesh half eaten by the haunting sea.

The air in her lungs filled with a putrid smell.

“Do you see me? Do you? Do you see me, (Y/N)? My face, my eyes, how do they look? Oh, (Y/N), I cannot see down here! It’s so dark!”

Wet and cold rivers of liquid ran down her spine, coming from his parted mouth - water or blood, she couldn’t distinguish. And she was far too scared to turn her head to look.

“I cannot breathe - help me! Why did you let me die?”

A violent shriek escaped her lips. The girl tried to spin and turn - escape his hold, and take him in her arms all the same.

Jacaerys was faster in his attempts; he took her face with his pruney fingers, and twisted her head around.

But instead of brown eyes, she was met with greying hues.

“Why did you let me die?” Cain’s voice echoed Jace’s sentence. “Why did you let me die, My Lady? How could you let me die?”

Blood was raining down on them: it filled her lungs, and painted her blue dress in a sickly purple. It stuck on her eyes and closed shut. It made her limbs impossible to move.

"No… no, no… this is not how it's supposed to go…!"

“(Y/N)! It's all your fault, all your fault…!”

***

A blood-curdling scream regurgitated from her dry throat.

Neither her drenched nightgown, nor the clogged air of the wide chambers managed to calm her down. While still in the limbo between dream and reality, (Y/N) brought a hand to her souring throat, and clawed at her collar for more stability.

Almost immediately after her first shaky sob, Aemond’s body bolted upright, and the One-Eyed Prince brushed off any remaining fragments of his torturous sleep.

With his right arm, he reached for her in an outstretched caress, eyes wide with wonder over her violent reaction - whilst his left instantly grabbed the dagger on the drawer closest to him.

One look about the room confirmed his pending suspicion: she had gone through a nightmare, and a very unpleasant one at that.

Not all our dreams get to turn into nightmares - The dead of night can provide solace for some, as well as great agony for others.

Scattered desires, idle wants, and needs: all met under the velvety silence and gratifying darkness that eats one whole, and mends his subconscious to the most profane of fantasies.

In his dream, Aemond was engaging in a much kinder resolve than the lady next to him.

***

The echo of swift, hurried footsteps allowed a comforting sigh to wash over his parted lips.

The tedious company of his brother and father was long forgotten, the moment her familiar silhouette caught his eye, urging him to turn his head around.

There she stood, ever the vile temptress, wearing an emerald green dress that draped lowly over her shoulders, trailing over her tender bosom, and barely covering the perky mounds of flesh.

She was smiling at him, despite being attached to Jace's arm, and a soft bite over her lower lip was all it took for the young Prince to feel that familiar tightness form in his leather braies.

He couldn't tell who strutted towards who, or how they got to that point. But a tentative hand rose to his face, taking off his eye patch.

A hitch of pleasure escaped from her crimson lips. She took both his hands in hers and, before the masses, placed them right above her clothed, throbbing clit.

"Please…" She pleaded with him, writhing into his reluctant touch, "Kostilus. Kostilus, Aemond."

His hesitation and lack of movement caused a loud whimper to contort from deep within her throat. She gave him a sly smirk, and brought her own hands under her skirts, to lift them and show him her glistening cunt. The evidence of his arousal was obvious, what with his cock brushing against her thigh as they kissed. He took her by the neck with one hand, while resting the other on her cheek.

He let out a low groan, and pushed her hand away to cup her dripping sex. His calloused thumb flicked over her reddened pearl, and a long, slim finger went inside her tight hole.

Aemond clenched his jaw - almost painfully so - and his hips rutted into the air so desperately, that the man was sure her wanton gasps held some amused glimmer in them.

His lilac orb watched her face contort in pleasure. They were all alone now, hidden in the shadows of the Great Hall, belonging to the Red Keep.

… And there he was, seated on the Iron Throne, moving his hips lazily as his intended was bouncing up and down his clothed shaft, rubbing their bodies together with a renowned fever.

His name fell from her lips in a sickeningly sweet way - Aemond could feel his hardness twitch into the hot material, and the Targaryen Prince bit back a guttural moan.

"Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, that's it. Bona iksos issa sȳz riñītsos." He hissed through gritted teeth.

She was finally his.

His to love, his to cherish, his to fuck and to make love to.

The thought of possessing her fully, unapologetically, wildly, sent a deep shiver down to his unyielding loins.

Aemond was close. Oh so close to reaching his high. But he wanted to make her feel good.

Wordlessly, the One-Eyed Prince stopped her desperate bucking with one hand over her hip and the other, holding down onto the nape of her neck.

The girl was sobbing and shaking. Her voice came out as a meek whisper, and her glassy eyes met with his dilated pupil.

"No, no… please… kostilus, Aemond, don't stop…" She writhed inside his arms, bringing her hand out to caress his scarred cheek.

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his bemused lips. Aemond hummed at her admission, and tenderly licked her lips.

"Shh," He soothed her gently, "Be still, byka hontes. Issa dōna, byka jorrāelagon."

While speaking, the Targaryen Prince pushed her dress to the side, sliding off her small clothes with an able hand and placing her flush onto the Iron Throne.

He bit the inside of her thigh, and rubbed small circles on the back of her hands.

Like the perfect lover, he entwined her palms with his, entangling their fingers together as he hushed her sweetly.

"Spread your legs for me, issa jorrāelagon. Let me see how wet you are."

The echo of a "Please" got caught in his throat. It was taking everything inside of him not to kneel before his lady and beg her to let him touch her.

Her wild blush and plush, swollen lips made Aemond let out a low curse. He gripped her fingers tighter, and took them in his mouth, to coat them with adorning kisses, one by one.

"You can do it for me, my sweet, pretty girl." He encouraged her through a shallow pant. "Don't you want me to make you feel good?"

A shy 'yes' bounced off the cold walls of the secluded Keep. Aemond hummed in approval, and lowered his head over her sensitive mound, sucking lightly.

With each new whimper, his strokes became more and more sporadic. The Prince aligned his nose over her throbbing clit, and eased his tongue into her sacred depths.

His eye shut tightly at the feeling of her sweet nectar - one of his hands came free from her tight grasp, and he parted her thighs even further apart.

"Good girl, good girl, good girl…" He chanted while latched onto her scorching heat, and, with one final push of his tongue inside her, he took the girl over the edge.

Her cries of bliss shook the very building to the core. Her wild pants brought Aemond close to orgasm, and the male had to bring down a hand to his aching bulge, and clench it tightly, in order to stop himself from spilling in his pants.

It wouldn't take long for his love to wiggle her hips again.

His mouth and chin gleamed with the evidence of her spilled arousal. Aemond let out a rumbled laugh and licked himself clean with the help of two nimble fingers.

"I won't waste a single drop. Not one, single drop of you."

His words made her eyes roll back, and her throat inch with a loud moan. His Lady kneeled before him, and rubbed her cheek over his clothed cock, kissing at its outlines faintly.

Insatiable little mynx.

His eye fluttered shut, groaning in agony at her sensual touch. Aemond swallowed thickly, and he let out a hurting whimper, as the kneeling woman dipped her hand in the tightness of his pants.

Slowly, teasingly, she tested the waters.

The woman brought her hand up to her lover, and parted his swollen lips with the slow stroke of her thumb. Silently, she urged him to coat her skin with the wet of his saliva. Aemond smirked, and licked one long stripe over her spreading palm.

Humming in approval, and never once breaking eye contact, she eased her way down his leather trousers, and freed his cock from the tightness of its cage.

Several beads of sweat streamed down his pleasured face. Droplets of precum rolled down his reddened tip, and Aemond hissed at the contact they made with the base of his shaft.

His lady looked at him with soft, doe-like eyes;

"Syz taoba." She praised him with a mischievous smile. Before he could register the whole of her movements, the woman's tongue darted out, and she licked a slow strip over his twitching manhood.

She laughed at his dazed expression, and began touching him with her silky palm.

"Yes…" He moaned into her hold, bucking his hips to meet her hand halfway. "Tighter. Grip it tighter…" He instructed her through labored breaths, and a harsh groan etched its way from his bitten lips. "Ah, ābrazyrys!"

With each palpable thrust, Aemond moaned louder and louder, until the licks of relief washed over him in a sudden wave of pleasure.

At once, his hips stilled their violent bucking, and he felt the first streaks of cum shoot over his heaving abdomen.

Aemond gasped at her unwavering touch, and a single tear of pure delight rolled down his pale cheek.

She smiled at him. A pure, innocent smile, as if what she'd just done did naught to shake her untouched innocence.

(Y/N) moaned at the sight of him, so ravished and spent by her hand - she licked her lips tentatively, and trailed her fingers over his lower stomach, coating each digit with his warm release.

The cum pooled on the base of her tongue, and she showed him the fullness in her mouth, before swallowing him whole.

Thinking him fully drained, the girl made haste to get up on her feet and press her forehead against his. She giggled excitedly, and kissed over his jaw and neck.

A primal glint swirled deep within him, and Aemond's eye darkened.

He wasn't done with her just yet.

His arms flipped her over, and the pair found themselves in the peace and quiet of his old Quarters. Her body was pushed against the silk bedding, laid in below Aemond's insistent licks and kisses.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, until the only thing you can think of is me."

His voice was shaking with lust and need, and the curve of her waist and breasts did nothing to help his aggravated heart.

His love let out a stimulated groan. Her lips churned into a small pout, and she brought his hand out to her scorching heat, pressing down on it insistently.

His mouth lulled open - he could feel the heat emanating from her maidenhood, and the very scent that made his head swirl with need.

He gritted his teeth and lowered his body to press against hers. He could feel himself grow harder and harder by the second, twitching against her exposed thigh.

The girl let out a burst of snorting laughter, and her legs came to grip him over the bulk of his waist.

Effortlessly, she pushed him into the wide goose pillows, towering over him as she snapped her hips into his.

"I always wanted to mount a dragon. Tonight, I'm going to ride you as you ride Vhagar."

***

The intensity of her scream made the man bolt up in an instant. His thoughts surged with a singular instinct: to protect her.

A hand reached for his dagger. The other, for her shaking form.

"What happened?" His throaty groan echoed through the silent room.

At the sound of his smothering voice, the girl let out a startled scream. She would have fallen from the unmade bed, were it not for Aemond's hands, which caught her beforehand. … His face contorted in pain at her recoiling, at her lack of trust in him. His very presence was unnerving her.

Her numerous shrieks alerted the new guards, who, warned in advance of their master's disposition to anger, hastily opened the door to his chambers - swords unsheathed and shoulders tense.

But, upon glancing at the erratic woman, and the way her hands were pushing Aemond's chest away from her flush form, they assumed this was just another way of coupling, and the oldest of the two bowed his head in embarrassment, before grabbing his brethren by the cape and exiting the room.

Fucking assholes…! The Lady thought to herself. Upkeeping the realm and instigating order only when they see fit.

The pang of embarrassment took a hold of her jaded face. It didn't matter what they thought. But all the same, Cain's words echoed into her ears, slithering into her heart.

' - the walls talk in Harrenhal, my Lady. And they... well, forgive me for being so blunt - speak stories about how the Kinslayer loses sleep by visiting you in your chambers at night.'

Disgust painted its way over her distressed expression. A deep frown creased her forehead, and she clicked her tongue in irritation at Aemond's attempt to soothe her.

"N-Nothing happened." She strained herself to answer. "It doesn't matter. Now let me go."

But his hold didn't falter. His iron grip reigned over her, and (Y/N) could feel how her wrist started to ache from numbness.

Her eyes shot up in pure horror.

"Please, Prince Aemond." She tried once more, though this time sweeter. Her eyes trailed from his face to his clenched fists, and she tried to relax in his hold - at least slightly. Dread settled into the pits of her stomach, as she awaited his answer.

The One-Eyed Prince felt his heart hammer against his chest. A stinging pain ruled over any other voice of reason, and he felt lethal, succumbed to the endless lust and frenzy that he felt for the shaking girl.

And, although he didn’t let go of her bruising arm, he sat down the dagger in his left hand, in favor of touching her lax cheek with his rough fingertips.

Gods, he was still so painfully hard.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, as his grip over her body relaxed with each passing minute. The taste of abhorance was getting harder and harder to ignore - as did his raging hard-on, so adamantly pressed against her covered leg.

The woman darted her tongue out to wet her chapped lips; an action that wasn’t easily ignored by Aemond. His brows furrowed in lust and anger, and the coil in his lower stomach grew tighter by the second.

His hand ghosted over her twisted features, and he held his hand against her, with a fear akin to getting burnt. She scrunched her nose up as he scooted closer: her eye trailed downwards to his huge erection. Fear mixed with the knowledge of her situation, and her free hand came to grip the edge of the mirkwood bed.

“Hey,” She began to say, but took a pause to clench and unclench her jaw. “I think we should go back to sleep.”

Her eyes closed, if only for a second. Aemond’s deep breaths echoed through the quiet room, over her face, and the girl chastised herself for being so idiotic.

Some reply she gave him.

… But there is still a way to get a hold of that damned dagger.

Thoughts laced with uncertainty whirled inside her head. This wasn’t the first time Aemond had stared with hunger at her, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was simply the way their 'relationship' worked. Simply the way he did.

Before she could muster up to add anything else, the Kinslayer broke the silence. His voice was soft and hitched; His broad arms snaked around her again, and his single eye loomed over her, adorning an emotion that menged perfectly with caution and lust.

“Why do you have this effect on me?” He questioned no one but himself. “You have ruined me.” He uttered, as if her presence and innocence were the strongest of poisons.

“Nyke istan nykeā vala hen gaomilaksir se rigo gō nyke mazilībagon laesi va ao. Se ao… ao… ao mazverdagon issa aylik hae lo nyke daor…”

The last of his words came out strained and angry, the desire to possess her coming out in the roughness of his sentence in High Valyrian.

(Y/N) squinted at him, unsure of what to do and say, except to stay awfully quiet. His cock twitched in his pants at her confused expression, and the woman sat her eyes on the dagger before her.

May his Gods so help him if he tries to do anything to me, she dryly thought to herself.

“I never tried to hurt you in any way.” She spoke decidedly, trying her best to keep a level of strength in her hoarse voice. Her body tensed under his aggravating touch, and the Lady quietly cursed herself for her inability to move further away from him.

Aemond’s face broke into a tight smile, and the Targaryen Prince huffed out in a low breath.

“Quit playing your game with me. You know exactly what you did. Women like you have quite the breeding for it.”

At that moment, anger blinded her. Swift as an arrow, she rose her head up high, and attempted to slap him - hard. But the older man caught her hand within his skilled fingers, and lowered it to his aching heart, keeping it there.

“Ao taenor issa. Aōha elēni, aōha laesi, aōha relgos, aōha maelki - aōha olvie perhas iksos surokvis issa. Issi ao biare? Hmm? Issi ao biare rūsīr skoros ao gōntan naejot issa?”

He could see the tears in her eyes. He could feel the flesh of her skin burn with the roughness of his touch. He could feel her anger and building disdain, and all of it pushed him over the edge all the same.

Aemond grabbed her face with his free hand, and clasped her jaw tightly. He breathed in her warmth, and he cursed himself for it - for the weakness that she caused him, for how easy it was for her to calm him down. “Ao issi nykeā quptenka ābra qilōni insalvak nykeā dārys hen ānogar.” He hissed desperately, lowering himself closer and closer to her face. “I treat you with kindness, and this is how you think to repay me? Vile, spoiled cunt. Gevie līve, ny dōna byka rene.”

To his mind, he was but an animal, caught helplessly in a siren’s grasp - she had lured him in with her beauty, her heart, and he was drowning in her, in her essence, in her being.

All of the things he felt towards her welled up inside of him: the love, the longing, the obsession, the lust, the need, the want. It was all too much.

He breathed heavily into her ear, while stroking at her bottom lip, “Gaomagon ao ūndegon sepār skorkydoso kraj ao issi, issa jorrāelagon? Aemond Mēre-Laes, se kipagīros hen Vhagar sen se Dārys mīsio hen Westeros… aōhon. Isse prūmia, haevisis, se maelki."

His raining assault in High Valyrian aggravated her to no end. Although Jacaerys' knowledge on the language wasn't perfect, either, he had taught the girl enough to get by.

And enough it was, at the very least, to make out the hissed out "beautiful"s, "love"s, and "heart"s that Aemond spewed at her.

The Tully girl spat in his face, biting on the index finger, that was trying to pry open her mouth. “You promised me,” She asserted as she pried herself free of his sickly embrace, “You promised me you wouldn’t touch me until I expressively asked you to.”

Her (y/e/c) eyes clashed with his lone, lilac orb. The woman swallowed thickly, and a droplet of sweat fell over her pounding temple. “So back. Off.”

Half a second goes by - half a heartbeat and half a breath -, until Aemond finally lets go of her, and settles back down onto the cold side of his bed.

For a while, (Y/N) is stuck. She sees how the man she loathes turns his back around, how his shoulders fall back as he’s trying to relax. She focuses on his breathing, and how his erratic breaths quiet down.

“Go to sleep.” He commands her bitterly, “Before I give you a reason to be tired out.”

The ferocity of a thousand curses almost falls from her tightened lips. The woman takes in a deep breath, and lowers herself back onto the drenched sheets.

He had donned the dagger to his fucking waist.

For almost two weeks, Cain had been falling in and out of consciousness.

His clash with Aemond left him weak and crippled - most of all, it left him ashamed.

Ashamed of his lack of diligence. Ashamed for having been unable to protect his Lady.

Finally, ashamed of his weakness and lack of thought, of reason.

If he were awake right now, he'd curse the Old Gods and the New for making him so - for giving him the wound that would incapacitate him forever. He'd have to fight the shivers that came with the rotting of his flesh, he'd have to clench his remaining fist in agony at the notion of the pools of blood he lost: the notion of his wound still going through the process healing, and all that came with it.

His once handsome face was still stained with his blood - dirt and sweat clung to it, like flies on dead meat.

His golden locks looked almost black, covered by the mold and mud that he'd crawled through once he reached outside the cave.

***

"You need to be swifter on your foot, lass!" Ser Allyn Swann instructed him, hitting the boy over the legs once, in taciturn aggression. "You're to be our Lady's sworn protector, are you not? You'll need to do better than that."

"I already am her sworn protector!" Cain yelled after the knight, rubbing a hand over his sweaty forehead. He took in a sharp breath, exhaustion seeping in his bones. Without waiting for an answer, he retook his wide stance and bowed down to his professor. "Again." He urged Ser Swann with a determined look.

The rains of spring had softened the ground, and both the knight and aspiring shield had to be mindful of their footsteps, so as to not land on their tired backs.

Allyn smiled, and shook his head. "Are you now, boy?" He obliged with a reply, "I think you're a seventeen-year-old blighter, who's bitten off more than he can chew."

His able taunting seemed to have worked.

No longer was Cain swinging his sword in circles, measuring his adversary with an aware look. Exactly like a dire wolf would after getting a whiff of fresh prey, the Waters bastard jumped into the leveling field, slashing his wooden blade directly at his opponent's head.

Allyn hummed in disapproval, and back-tracked to the right, faking a swing to his left side, before wiping Cain's feet off the ground with a wonky, but effective swipe.

"Again, Waters?" The knight asked with a click of his tongue. "This is the fifth time you fell for this exact same move. You may be as simple-minded as the Gods allow - but even a fool would learn from his mistakes once he swallowed mud once or twice."

As the boy lowered his gaze in undoubted guilt, his teacher offered him his hand, hoisting him off the field with a low grunt.

"Your mind is elsewhere, Cain. What is it that's bothering you?"

Eyes of the colour of steel clashed with Allyn's brilliant blues. A hoarse sigh left his parted lips, and Cain looked to the sky above them.

"I… I'm not ready." He admitted through gritted teeth. "Lady (Y/N) believes in me, but I'm not ready."

His simple sentence, his raw honesty, moved the greying knight.

He smiled tightly at the boy, resting a hand atop his heaving shoulder, and squeezed strongly.

"You are ready. You haven't the slightest idea of what you can do, should the situation call for it."

"Aye, I can fall straight on my ass. Maybe that'll distract my real opponents!"

"Cain." His professor interrupted him, "Long has it been since I last faced that eight-year-old boy who wanted nothing more than to prove himself."

Ser Swann's words brought a twisted smile to his lips, and (Y/N)'s protector mirrored his tired expression, as he huffed out a breath in disdain.

"I'm afraid I'll fail her." He muttered under his breath, looking in the general direction of his Lady's Quarters. "She believes in me, yes. But what if she's wrong?" A deep frown splits his forehead in three, wide creases. "Sometimes it feels like she must be."

"Only a real knight would ever admit to his weaknesses and less than stellar moments." Allyn encouraged him shortly. His eyes never once left Cain's, and the old Lord nodded his head briskly. "Lady Tully is not the only one who believes in you. Before her, Lord Hunter Redwyne believed in you."

A small chuckle broke Cain's reserved silence.

"If I remember correctly, he made you his steward exactly because he believed in you. After him, of course, went his sons and daughters. When the siege over Arbourtown took place, who was it that fought 100 men all by himself?"

"Hardly 100. It was 66 at best."

"Honesty. Another rare quality to find in a knight."

Cain's frustration welled in his eyes. "It's not honesty - it's a well-known truth!"

"Let me tell you something, Cain. It could have been a hundred men. Or it could have been thirty, or it could have been just one. The unrivaled truth remains: when everyone abandoned their post, you were the only one left standing in the West Wing of that castle."

A hefty silence settled off between the two.

"Plenty of people believed in you: plenty still do. And all of them were right to do so."

Cain's aching fists turned lax once Ser Allyn put an end to his trail of thought. "I…" He bit his cheek in an attempt to talk.

'Thank you.'

"I still have a lot to learn."

"That you do, boy. That you do." Allyn confirmed with a convinced jerk of his head. His eyes glimmered with pride, however, and, as he picked his sword back up, the man smiled at his driven apprentice.

"But I believe in you, and in the fact that you will make her proud."

"... It's nice to talk again like this."

Allyn's expression saddened for a moment, before it regained its familiar vigor.

"As I told you, lass. No matter how far you are, I'll always be somewhere with you. I'll be right here, at the tip of your sword, in your armor."

Ser Cain felt a tear run down his cheek, and the knight rose a hand to wipe it away from his face.

"I don't think I'll ever hold a sword again." He hummed painfully, but the older knight only shook his head.

"You haven't the slightest idea of what you can do, should the situation call for it." He repeated his words again. "Trust me, son. You will hold Faithkeeper again. … But now it's time for you to wake up."

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

***

"-- Are you waking up?!" The worried voice of a woman rang through the open field.

Cain felt his head jolting with pain - his limbs of a calming numbness, and his lips dried up.

He swallowed thickly, before opening his mouth to say, "Water… I need… water."

"Right on it, soldier." She amusedly said, bringing down her own flask to his waiting mouth.

He drank to his heart’s content, and only when the last droplets of the blessed liquid touched his throat, did Cain Waters stop to breathe.

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing he said, as the unknown woman checked her poach for any remains of the water. “I didn’t think about the practicality of leaving some for later. … Or about you needing a sip.”

The last of his words greatly perplexed the brown-haired woman - she let out a mirthled laugh, and gently shook her head to the side. “At ease, Commander. We have more where that came from. Drink as much as you need to.”

Her amber eyes trailed over his bandaged hand, and, as he followed her stare with his own, Cain sighed in wallowing dread. His gaze turned curious, however, as he glanced at his shoulder, and wasn’t immediately greeted with the ghastly sight of a chopped-off arm.

A shocked look adorned his features, and the knight brought his left hand to feel the borders of his forming scar.

A painful sting stopped him in his tracks.

“I’d be careful with touching that arm so soon,” She tutted over his brash enthusiasm, “Your stitches are far from being healed. … And it’s not all that good and grand.”

Her sharp eyes softened slightly, and she let out a hardened breath.

“I’m very sorry. But we still had to cut off some of the infected fingers. With time, though, I’m sure you’ll hold your sword again.”

‘You will hold Faithkeeper again.’

Cain hummed in a lowly tone, as his eyes traveled back to the strange woman before him. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, until he finally settled on the least invasive sentence.

“I’m very grateful for your help,” He began carefully, while nibbling at his lower lip. “But who are you? And why would you save me?”

The girl’s eyebrows raised in beguilement, and she jokingly brought her hand to her chest, bowing deeply.

“My name is Mira Florent, of Brightwater Keep. I was a ward not long ago, under the esteemed tutelage of Lady Caswell. For eleven years, I served in Bitterbridge.” Taking in his every reaction with a curious look, Mira quirked her head to the side, and offered the knight a half-earnest smile. “And who might you be?”

“You didn’t answer my other question.” Cain tensed visibly, and the woman raised her hands out in false surrender.

“Indeed, I have not. I’d like to know who it is I’m talking to, as well, before I should waste all my breath away.”

The knight’s deep gaze settled on her downturned nose and inviting smile. He took in a deep breath, and propped his body on his healthy elbow. “I asked my questions first, my Lady.”

“And I demanded for answers, second.” Her voice rang out with a beaming laugh, and the older woman showed him her portrait-perfect grin. “No one here is in any position to make demands. … But please. I am not a Lady. There’s no need for you to address me as such”

Her easy-going attitude and fun behavior were almost enough reason for Cain to return her gracious smiles - still, the royal knight remained impassive, while nodding his head in quiet agreement.

“My name is Cain Waters, m’lady.” A short pause ensued, during which both healer and patient exchanged a diverted look, “Until recently, I served in Riverrun; I answer to the Tullies, the lords of the Riverlands.”

“I knew it!” Mira’s gleeful exclamation set Ser Cain back on his back. “It was fairly obvious by the crest in your armor. The trout lost its head, but the house colors are still as clear as day.”

“Is that why you decided to save me?” The man asked her tentatively.

“Well, that’s why we kept carrying you with us after patching you up, I suppose. But we would have tried to heal you either way.”

“We?” The Waters bastard questioned once again. “There’s more than just you around?”

“You don’t think I carried you all the way here by myself, right?” Her sarcastic question jabbed at his intellect, but her placid smile told the knight to relax, and put an end to his sporadic trail of thought. “It’s just me and my travel partner - he’s the one that wanted us to leave you at a crossroads end, by the way.”

A bemused smirk tugged at the corners of Cain’s chapped lips. “Then you have my full gratitude, m’lady - I have to say, I appreciate you not letting me die. Pray tell, does your companion have a name?”

An arch of her bushy eyebrows was the only telltale sign of Mira’s pending curiosity over Cain's meddlesome nature. She jerked her head to point at a silhouette near the fireplace, and she leaned over on a tree’s bark end.

“He does.” The woman said simply, and her expression turned somber for just a moment. “You take your profiling seriously, Cain Waters - his name is Albar. Albar of nothing, who serves under no one. Albar Stone.”

Cain’s face brightened slowly, as if he’d just been reminded of an old joke.

‘Us bastards always find a way to help one another.’

A rumbling laughter shook him in his laying spot, and the man gingerly shook his head after a passing while. “Another brother. I’ve a feeling we’ll get along just fine.”

Mira’s only reply was to shrug her shoulders, keeping quiet for the first time since they’d met. Her auburn eyes went over Cain’s shoulder, and she took in a deep breath. “You fought the Kinslayer, haven’t you?” She asked whilst playing with a silver pendant.

“You’re wearing the Tully crest - a house that openly pledged for the Blacks. Despite your heavy armor, your wound was of a clean cut. Too clean for a normal blade.” The Florent Lady awaited no confirmation from the laying man, as she went on, “I’ve been well acquainted with the deadly swords forged from Valyrian Steel. And there are only two people who wield such feats of war. Of course, only one of them who terrorizes our home.”

“Aye, that is true.” Cain let out after a low curse. “I regret not being swifter on my foot that day. It would’ve saved us a lot of trouble to slay him then and there.”

“Opportunities arise. And I’ve a feeling there will be another time for you to face him again.”

Cain’s forehead puckered at the last of her words, and his able hand pointed at the empty flask that now rested on her lower hip. “Oh, I would drink to that.” He bitterly laughed in earnest.

Mira’s posture ambled away, and she edged closer to the man’s plodded body. Silently, she got a hold of the bridles of the nearest horse, and offered Cain a lackluster smile. “I’ll hoist you up this saddle and we’ll keep walking towards the Vale.”

The muscles in Cain’s face tightened. His immediate thought went to (Y/N), his Lady, no doubt still stuck with Aemond in Harrenhal - that Gods' forsaken place.

His fist brandished in a tight hold, his head aligned to Mira’s working hands, and the knight tried to stop her musings with a firm palm over her waist.

“Wait -” He tried to reason, “I cannot go there. My Lady is still waiting for me, I cannot just abandon her.”

"Abandon your Lady?" Mira's eyes widened once more. She jumped up from the ground, and straightened her back in disbelief. "You're Lady Tully's personal knight? Is that why you fought the Kinslayer? You're telling me she's still alive?!"

Through an exhale, the male nodded. He cleared his throat with a loud cough, and scrunched his nose up in frustration.

"Indeed, m'lady. So you must understand me - I cannot forsake her. Not when she's still in the jaws of that one-eyed fucker."

Mira wiped the dust off her cotton pants, and grunted in agreement. She let out a tired breath, and clicked her tongue at his persistence.

"Well… you could have returned to Harrenhall, limping on your feet and all, if only you awoken a week ago. But we're less than an hour away from the Eyrie, Ser Cain." His crushed expression and gritted teeth softened the lady's resolve. "I warmly recommend you stick with us. Our road leads to the Arryns: we can drop you off to your Lord and you can take a while to recover."

"You slept for a very long time, Ser Cain. Everything you knew has changed in these last couple of weeks. Getting acquainted to your new situation will do you well."

Alys never dreamt. At least, she never once recalled what her dreams were about.

Such was the way of things for her, and she didn’t mind it - that was, until tonight.

Stilling images of her in his arms, of his soft lips upon the Tully's face made her shake with anger and betrayal well into the first callings of dawn.

Morning came and went, and the afternoon spent itself with her clasping her hands together, in the comfort of her room, thinking on what to do.

Her rattling worry wasn’t as much about her love for him, as it was for the frightening thought that if the Crown Prince didn’t want her anymore, she'd find her death by the sharp end of his sword.

The Rivers witch gulped thickly, and brought her hands over her neck and bump.

Aemond was capable of many things. But he wouldn't risk killing his child. Right?

The Tully girl had to go. The conclusion was a natural reach, and an expected one, at that: it was the only solution to her ticking problem.

A slight arch of her brow sent her thoughts adrift. How would she take care of it all? She gave the haughty Lady the chance to escape, and she failed - miserably. Now, she had no more allies left in Harrenhal, and no access to any amount of privacy.

The memory of Aemond's rage sent a cold shiver down her spine. Not once during her long life, did she witness a sight more fearful to behold, than the one of the One-Eyed Prince when angered. Hundreds died the day of her escape, and thousands more would keep on suffering, if ever she should break free again.

The Tully girl had to go. And then Aemond would be hers again.

Her prayers were answered when, sometime along the laid-in dusk, his footsteps echoed through the long hallway of her keep.

She waited for him in her small framed bed, eagerly aligning her hips to the side, to strike a more seductive pose.

… But when Aemond reached her doorstep, his eye carried a solemn, and resigned expression.

"The maids tell me she won't eat." He told her worriedly, opting for that instead of his usual greeting. He reached her bedside with two wide steps, and wordlessly took a seat while rubbing his temples. "She's punishing me."

Alys staggered a frustrated breath, and tried to calm herself back down. Her left leg moved to tease Aemond's crotch, and she chuckled appealingly.

"Must we worry about her all the time…? She'll eat when she gets really hungry." Alys dismissed his inquiry with a small caress, "In the meantime, I'm sure I could take your mind off things…"

Within a second, Aemond's hand was wrapped softly on her neck. "Stop that." He chastised her cruelly, "I'm not in the mood."

"You never are, as of late." She muttered dryly, but regretted her words instantly, when she felt his long fingers squeeze over her larynx tentatively. "I-I only meant to say that I missed you." She quickly intervened, while entangling her hand with his in a forlorn attempt to redeem herself.

Aemond hummed tiredly, and, as if he finally registered what he was doing, the man let go of her dainty neck.

Quietness washed over them, and Alys' eyes welled with the threat of tears, until Aemond spoke up.

"I want you to keep an eye on her. Become her friend, if you must."

The detachment with which he spoke wounded Alys' pride, but, as she massaged her neck, the woman only sighed. "Befriend her, Aemond?"

"Do whatever you think is right." He uttered once again. "Starting tomorrow, you'll be her maid - you'll make sure she eats when I'm not here; you'll make sure she doesn't think of a way to escape."

Her ears reddened from the deep wound laid upon her enlarged ego. Alys huffed in disbelief, and promptly shook her head. "What…?" She asked her lover. "So you want me to feed her and empty her chamber pot?"

"Don't act as if this work would be beneath you, love." Aemond tutted as he raised up from his taken seat. "I've already made up my mind: you will take care of her while I'm not around. And you will make her like it here."

The urgency in his words muffled out any other attempted protest. Alys' fists were clenched at her sides, and the older woman was biting down on her lower lip. "As you wish, Your Grace." She hissed past her tightened lips, while looking at him desperately.

As she noticed him turn around to leave, the Rivers witch shot up straight. "You won't stay?" She asked Aemond in a strangled tone.

"I have some business to attend to."

Aemond prayed before his dinners. As if that would make them any better.

As if that would help him swallow his guilt, or scatter it over the ghosts that he himself created.

As if that would deter the Gods to forgive him for his sins.

The pair stood quietly at the polished oak table, surrounded by naught but fermented wine and copious amounts of meat. For a while, all seemed well.

The cutlery broke a sound every once in a while, and Aemond's deep breaths turned the room's atmosphere heavy.

Eventually, it all built up to be too much.

"Is the food not to your liking?" His velvety smooth voice asked the girl before his eye.

With her hands still in her lap, now gripping her fingers painfully, Lady Tully replied, "... It's nothing of the sort. I'm just not hungry right now."

Aemond stared blankly into her eyes, until his scorching orb settled on her lips instead. Lustful thoughts of what he dreamt the night before plagued his mind, but the Prince merely shook his head, whilst taking a sip of the wine.

"You haven't eaten anything today." He muttered through a raised eyebrow, and a ghost of a forced smile. "Surely you must be famished."

The muscles on (Y/N)'s face twitched in annoyance. She jerked her foot from under the table, and turned her eyes back to her untouched plate.

"... As I said, I'm not feeling very hungry." She leaned further away, and the firelight of the wide, lit room, danced across her face with glorious shades of red and amber.

"Very well." Aemond asserted quietly, after letting out a hoarse curse in High Valyrian. Soon, the Prince turned his attention back to the illuminated room, without sparing the girl another glance.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and coughed in the back of his hand a couple of times.

Each time she heard his attempts to clear his throat, the girl clenched her jaw tighter and tighter.

Neither spoke anymore, until Aemond sighed deeply.

"Does…" He began, but closed his mouth once again. His face turned into a sour scowl, his pale cheeks reddened, and the man forced himself to keep going, despite the hardness with which such a question came to him. "Does your wrist hurt you at all?"

A quick reminder to the other night.

The lady's eyes snapped forward, unsure of whether or not she'd heard him correctly. Were she not in this unpleasant situation herself, the woman would have laughed at the Prince's awkwardness; no less his stupid question.

Instead of laughing, she took in a shaky breath, which she exhaled almost immediately, before replying curtly. "It doesn't hurt." Her eyes closed and her brows furrowed in concentration.

Distaste for him, for what she was about to say, filled her weary heart and mouth.

"... Thank you for the inquiry, My Prince, that was very kind of you."

She wanted to scream and shout the moment his daft fingers gripped her own, and the Kinslayer tried to caress her, despite his hand's deep callouses. Still, she remained poised.

She was all alone now, and she had to play it smart.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat, and her shoulders tensed visibly from under her green dress. Slowly, yet surely, she wiggled her hand free from under his palm, and placed it above her thigh once more.

If her movement displeased Aemond, then the Prince didn’t show it. His hand twitched atop the table, and he clenched it momentarily. But just as soon as his action was executed, it was covered by the Targaryen's mellow voice.

"Try to eat something tonight. And whatever it is that you'd like on the morrow, you can tell your maid to bring you."

Maid…?

Confusion made its way across her face. And, not even waiting for her to ask that eager question, Aemond dipped his head lowly and replied.

"The days are hard and long - prisoner or not, My Lady. While in Harrenhal, you are still a royal, and will be treated as such."

(Y/N) felt as if she could do nothing else but laugh. She envisioned her life in Harrenhal drift in a lot of different ways - though no thought of hers deterred her to believe she'd be taken care of by Aemond's older lover.

Of course, she jested lightly to herself. In the end, I am but a prisoner. And Aemond only has one eye.

Her hands were tied. And so were Alys Rivers', who looked none the happier to be rooted at her bedside table, judging by her tight expression.

"We don't have to play his game, you know." The girl hushed in her direction, as she kneeled down to help her change the ruined bed sheets.

Green eyes washed over her smaller form, holding an icy glimmer in them. But, despite her obvious discontent at her words, Alys remained quiet.

"You've known Aemond for longer than I," She kept going in the afternoon. "But we can both agree he has a dangerous character." Her lack of cooperation irked the lady to no end.

She dreaded the silence she was greeted with.

Hopelessly, she watched Alys wipe the last corner of the room - the girl observed how she turned on her heel, bowing at her without sparing her a second glance, and made her way toward the doors of her chambers.

"What do you think will happen once I tell Aemond that you helped Cain plan my escape?" She asked in a neutral tone.

For the first time that day, the Rivers bastard whipped her head around, and kneeled to the floor to gather up the dropped cloth. Despite her neutral smile, her voice was shaking. "You're trying to blackmail me?"

"I'm trying to help myself. ... And help you."

The woman let out a roaring laugh. "I am carrying the child of the dragon, girl. He wouldn't dare hurt me."

"Are you that sure?" The hardened look on (Y/N)'s face let no emotion stand out. Still, her eyes remained honest, truthful in her questions, and the wood witch let out an ample sigh.

"I know you don't want me here." The Lady raised her head in bold admission, "Believe me, I am the last person to be happy with this arrangement. This is your home. This is supposed to be your room and your rightful bed. On that, you'll hear no argument from me."

As her speech came to an abrupt end, Alys furrowed her brows in unexpected shock. She was quick to collect herself, and shield her shaking body by crossing her arms.

"We're more similar than we'd allow ourselves to think, Alys. We both want me gone and far, far away from here."

With a tentative look in her eyes, the Lady of Riverrun approached Alys' heaving body. She took her hands in hers and squeezed them reassuringly.

A strained chuckle parted from the elder's lips. She jerked her hands away and shot her an unfeeling look. "What would you have me do?" She interfered with a cutting voice. "You forget yourself - and I. I'm just a woman in this Keep, the same as you. If you think I hold any power over anyone here, you'd be sorely mistaken."

(Y/N) shook her head, and allowed a crooked smile to grace her tired features. She quirked her eyebrow at the woman's words, and only hummed disprovingly.

"I may not know you, Alys Rivers. But I know you are a smart and conniving woman. You lived all your life in Harrenhal, or so I heard."

Her harsh tone cut through the deadly silence of the room.

"I'm sure you kept at least a secret passage to yourself, and away from Aemond. It's not like us to keep all our eggs in the same basket... So, I want you to teach me all you know about this castle.”

A jocund expression seeped into Alys' pores. She clicked her tongue at (Y/N)'s words, and huffed out a wired breath. “Foolish girl. If anything should go wrong, Aemond will kill us both.”

A small pause, followed by a muttered curse ensued after Alys’ warning. Once her eyes locked on the Lady again, she frowned as she nodded her head.

"You have yourself a deal."

Taglist:

@bellameshipper @ohitsthemaster @kravitzwhore @virginslut08 @hiatuswhore @somemydayy

Translations:

"Bona iksos issa sȳz riñītsos" = That's my good little girl;

"Byka hontes" = Little dove;

"Issa jorrāelagon" = My love;

“Issa dōna, byka jorrāelagon” = My sweet, little love;

"Ābrazyrys" = Wife;

“Nyke istan nykeā vala hen gaomilaksir se rigo gō nyke mazilībagon laesi va ao. Se ao… ao… ao mazverdagon issa aylik hae lo nyke daor…” = I was a man of duty and honor before I set eyes on you. And you… You… You make me feel as if I am no longer…;

“Ao issi nykeā quptenka ābra qilōni insalvak nykeā dārys hen ānogar.” = You are a common woman who enslaved a prince of the blood;

“Ao taenor issa. Aōha elēni, aōha laesi, aōha relgos, aōha maelki - aōha olvie perhas iksos surokvis issa. Issi ao biare? Issi ao biare rūsīr skoros ao gōntan naejot issa?” = You tempted me. Your voice, your eyes, your lips, your soul - your very presence is seducing me. Are you happy? Are you happy with what you did to me?

"Gaomagon ao ūndegon sepār skorkydoso kraj ao issi, issa jorrāelagon? Aemond Mēre-Laes, se kipagīros hen Vhagar sen se Dārys mīsio hen Westeros… aōhon. Isse prūmia, haevisis, se maelki." = Do you see just how powerful you are, my love? Aemond One-Eye, the Rider of Vhagar and the Prince Protector of the Realm… yours. In heart, body, and soul.

"Gevie līve, ny dōna byka rene" = Beautiful witchling, my sweet little slut;

[sh0ek0]

miss you (part 3)

part 1, 2

genre: angst, smut, dark content, all over the place content warning: 18+ !MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT! As I forgot to mention in part I + II: aged up characters OF COURSE (college setting), mentions of alcohol and drug use, name calling, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, violent behavior, emotional abuse, choking, dj!choso, rough!megumi, hints of narcissism, obvious mental problems, maddy and nate (euphoria) kinda dynamic, euphoria inspired dialogue, DARK CONTENT, I really don’t know how to do these content notes, I’m sorry, I’m trying pairing: Choso x Reader, Megumi x Reader (kinda???) word count: about 10k

A/N: I really love to include some songs that inspire me while writing, I love music (that’s such a basic thing to say lol) so if you're up for it click on the lyrics. Also I really hope this was worth the wait, I am so sorry 🫠 this is kind of all over the place, like always, but I want to stop being so critical with myself, soooooo yeah. Here you go 🤭

Everything just felt so wrong. It was so hot down here and you were constantly bumping into people. The alcohol in your blood was making you dizzy with every step you took through the crowd and it was definitely messing with your sense of balance. You felt kind of nervous, but it was your own fault.

You were the one who hid in your bed for a whole week, your anxiety now at an all-time high. 

And you were the one who accepted all those drinks that Yuji had mixed for you upstairs.

However, those drinks seemed to fulfil their promise of freeing you from your inner torment, and as soon as the people around you were starting to look a little blurry, you start to move to the loud music blaring from the speakers.

I don't ever wanna see you / And I never wanna meet you again / One thing / When you're angry, you're a jerk / And then you treat me like I'm worth nothin'

"This track goes so hard." 

You open your eyes as you hear a familiar voice screaming in your ear. You see Nobara grinning from ear to ear as she dances to the music, the parts of her body that are not covered were glistening with sweat as the fluorescent lights hit her skin. She looked so damn beautiful.

How much you loved your friends.

This time it was Maki who dragged Nobara and you along with her to a house party off campus so the three of you found yourself in some guys huge basement, loud techno music blasting from the speakers and lots of sweaty people pressing up against each other. It was hot and completely dark except for a few neon lights that made it possible to at least distinguish a few faces. 

Not a single person down here seemed to be in any real control of their senses anymore, most of them were completely out of it already, while you could only imagine what kind of drugs they had in their systems by now. But hey, it was none of your business and you wouldn't judge, so the only thing that mattered was that the three of you were having a fantastic time.

I don't ever wanna see you / And I never wanna meet you again / It’ll happen again / I watch it happen over and over again

Another thing that brought you down here to this shady basement was a rumor that this new DJ was doing a pretty good job. And you knew he was pretty cute too - from where you were standing you could see his face hidden behind a MacBook screen, his hands effortlessly dancing across the array of buttons, knobs and sliders in front of him. Watching him, his body moving in sync with the music, his head bobbing as he worked his magic, you couldn't help but notice how good he looked. His lip was visibly split from last weekend's events and the pale hint of a black eye still marked his skin, but if you were being honest, it made him look even hotter.

You find yourself staring in his direction for a second too long and before you can look away, his eyes lock with yours and you see the realization in them just seconds later.

You feel a jolt of electricity run through your veins as your eyes lock.

Choso turns his eyes back to the DJ set in front of him a few times, but each time he looks up, you can feel him searching for you in the crowd. You can feel his gaze sticking to you like the bodies of Nobara and Maki who were dancing near you.

The heat around you envelops you like a suffocating blanket, while the bass pounds through the walls, pulsing in your chest and guiding your movements.

Don't try to find me / I’m better left alone than in this / It doesn't surprise me / Do you really think that I could care? / If you really don't like me / Find somebody else, it could be anyone else out there

The next time you turn in his direction, it was you who sought his gaze, flashing him a mischievous grin as your eyes locked again. 

Choso raises an eyebrow, but the grin on his lips gives him away. He winks at you, and as you continue to watch, you notice him smiling to himself as his hands skillfully move over the equipment, fading the old track into a new one. A few people immediately start to cheer.

Say yes to Heaven / Say yes to me / If you dance I’ll dance / d-dance / I’ve got my eye on you / you / you / you

The moment you recognise the song, a squeal escapes your lips. Your hips sway effortlessly from side to side, perfectly in sync with the rhythm. Nobara has her arms loosely wrapped around your neck, joining in and mirroring your every move. 

Choso knew you loved this song. 

You fell in love with it the first time you both heard it. That was a few weeks ago in his and Yuji's apartment, you were talking about music and you told him that you absolutely adored Lana Del Rey. It seems that he didn't forget that, because he mixed the song into something completely different, but just as beautiful.

You couldn't help but think that it felt like he'd done that for you. 

But did he?

Either way, he's managed to sweep you off your feet with a little gesture like that, and you can't remember the last time a man did that for you.

It feels like hours have passed before you realise that another DJ has taken over. As the current track slowly fades out into a new one, you notice how the vibe changes and most of the people who came for something with more bpm start to leave to go back upstairs.

Nobara grabs your hand and pulls you with her, Maki follows.

"Hey, I like that song—", you protest but Nobara and Maki were on a mission to get some fresh air. 

You notice how fast your heart was beating as the three of you make your way to the stairs, the pounding music slowly fading into the background.

"That was so good," Nobara sighs and you nod in agreement, still dizzy from all the sensations around you that your drunken brain was having trouble processing, "Choso did a damn good job, I didn't even know he could do that."

"Neither did I," you add, leaning down to take a sip from the straw in Maki's drink, "but he has skilled hands, so it makes sense."

"Oh shut up," Maki groans and you take the drink from her. You couldn't really tell what was in it, but you've reached a point where everything tastes the same to you anyway.

"I still don't understand why those idiots prefer to stay upstairs with Gojo and Getou and play beer pong," Nobara sneers, making you laugh. She was so right.

"Well, they missed a healing experience," you say, staying close to the two girls while more and more people leave the basement, "I thought all I needed was some random guy to fuck me in the bathroom to get Megumi out of my head, but actually this was just as good."

Nobara turns around and stares at you in shock as you take a sip of the unknown drink, causing you both to burst out laughing. 

"A win is a win, I guess," she says and you high-five her. 

"I'm actually so proud of you," Maki says, nudging your side before wrapping her arm around your waist.

You were surprised at how easy it was for you to talk about him. You hadn't heard from him in well over a week, and you weren't about to keep feeding your own delusion by telling yourself that  that hookup in his car was enough to rekindle your relationship. The two of you were over, and not just since he had dropped you off at your apartment at 4am last weekend. Those had been empty words, everything he had said to you that night. You had lied to yourself, thinking you could change his mind by having sex with him. He hadn't even waited until you were safely inside, instead you heard his tires squealing right after you slammed the door of his car shut.

"Who says you can't have both?" a deep voice whispers in your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Well, that was embarrassing.

You immediately recognise his voice. 

Maki and Nobara start to giggle while you just freeze. They couldn't possibly have understood what he was saying at this volume, but the suggestiveness in his voice was enough to make you blush.

You turn and look up at Choso, who was looking back at you with a smirk on his lips. Up close, he looked even more battered than before, but you refrain from saying anything. An apology wouldn't help him and Megumi didn't look too good either.

He hugs you briefly, his hand remaining on your lower back even after you pulled away.

"Your set was great," you say, suddenly feeling a bit shy. Even though you meant it, you just wanted to fill the awkward silence. The fact that Maki and Nobara were standing right behind you didn't help, and Choso caught you so off guard that you didn't really know what to say or do. 

In the end, overthinking was what you did best.

Choso smiles at your comment and you catch his eyes roaming over your body for a second. 

"Thanks, I could see you enjoyed it," he replies, looking you straight in the eye. 

You can barely stand his gaze, your face could hardly get any redder and just as you open your mouth to say something, he clears his throat, his hand still on your back.

"Let's go upstairs, I need something to drink," he motions to Maki and Nobara to take the lead, "it's so damn hot down here."

"Oh, it really is," Nobara says, taking Maki's hand and dragging her through the crowd and up the stairs.

You and Choso follow, him being so gentle as he makes sure you don't bump into anyone, as you still have trouble walking a straight line in your knee high boots.

"Oh - careful," he says, catching you just before you could stumble up the stairs, "you know I'd do anything to get that goddamn asshole out of your head, but you really can't make me take advantage of a drunk girl."

Again, the words were only meant for you as you fell back against his chest, strong arms holding you, his hot breath brushing your neck, his lips just below your ear. 

He managed to get you up, and once you were both surrounded by even more people and loud music, you turn to face him.

"I might be drunk, but I'm not a girl," you say, looking at him challengingly.

"Oh," he laughs, "did I miss anything?" He looks at you for a moment, the grin never leaving his lips.

You just glare back at him.

"Fine, excuse me, ma'am," he says, making you giggle.

"But you are drunk," he observes. 

"Then let's get even more drunk together," you decide, taking his hand to lead him into the kitchen. 

"Sounds like a plan," Choso says, laughing, "Lead the way."

If you had turned around, you would have seen the adoration with which he looked at you. At that moment, he would have followed you anywhere. 

Maki was already sitting on the kitchen counter and Nobara was standing next to her, giggling at something she said. The two were drinking from red plastic cups when Yuta made his way over to them, waving at you. 

You wave back at him before you look around to see Yuji still mixing cocktails.

You and Choso push past some people to keep Yuji company, who hands you both two cups. Yuji grins as you taste his secret recipe and you immediately grimace. Right now you can definitely taste more than four different kinds of alcohol and that should be enough of a statement to make a final judgement about his creation

"I mean, it does it’s job but please don't ever start bartending anywhere," you groan and take another sip.

"Yeah, listen to her," Choso says, but he empties his drink before you do.

"Hey, don't hurt me like that," Yuji protests, "you weren't complaining earlier, though." 

"Well yeah," you say, "But I don't take any responsibility for the fact that you had the plan to get me drunk."

"Oh, I would never do such things," the pink-haired boy says, pouring another cup for Choso before changing the subject.

"My brother was doin’ a pretty good job down there in that basement, huh?"

"Yes, he definitely was," you gush as he reminds you, "but where were you? You missed something."

"Oh, I didn't," he replies, "I was right next to him, watching all the magic happen right in front of me."

"Really?" The music changes and you had to shout over it.

"Yeah, but I guess you only had eyes for someone else," Yuji grins, making you blush.

You sip from your cup, cheeks red and the grin still on your lips, but you don't say anything, instead looking up at Choso. 

"I'm going outside for a smoke, join me if you want," he says in a low voice, letting go of your hand, only now realising that you've been holding it the whole time.

You nod and watch him until he disappears through the kitchen door and out onto the patio. You see him join Gojo and Getou who had been sitting outside with Hakari, Kirara, Nanami and Haibara for a while. Before Choso could even sit down, Hakari was already holding a joint out to him.

Yuji snaps you out of your thoughts and you take another sip of your drink.

"Hey, what's going on, huh?"

You weren't sure what he was hinting at.

"What?" you ask, trying to concentrate on what he is saying.

"You and my brother," he replies, getting straight to the point, "what's going on with you two?"

"I don't know," you say, not even lying, "nothing? Something? I don't think I can say."

"Mhm," Yuji pauses and looks around before turning back to you, "Megumi's here tonight, I saw him earlier."

"Great," you say and put down your cup, "I don't care."

"I think I've heard that before," he sighs while looking at you with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I don't really care," you say, slightly disappointed, "he doesn't care about me either."

"I doubt that," Yuji tells you, without specifying what exactly he doubted. 

You lean against the counter next to him and watch the people standing around in the kitchen. Most of them were talking, shouting at each other over the loud music, dancing or laughing.

You had already drunk a lot and no decision you would make now would be a good one. Your senses were far too clouded for that, but you needed that kind of ease, you wanted to turn off your racing thoughts. So you didn't have too many options, either you could bang your head against the wall to stop thinking about him, or…

"Let's do some shots," you suggest, almost immediately hearing Yuji groan. You grab a bottle of tequila from the bar and pour yourself and Yuji two glasses.

"What about lemon or salt?", Yuji protests, but you just clink glasses with him.

"What an amateur," you retort, raising the glass to your lips, downing the contents and immediately refilling it, "works just fine without it."

"I hate you," you hear Yuji groan as he does the same, "this is fucking disgusting."

You both start to laugh at Yuji's disgusted expression. The tequila burns as it runs down your throat and you realize just how much you overdid it already.

But wasn't that half the fun? You always had the best nights when you and Maki would stumble into your apartment early in the morning, still completely drunk, with Yuta struggling to somehow try and get you two into your beds.

You start to refill your glasses when Yuji puts the half-empty bottle aside and looks at you with that worried look on his face. Before you can protest or tell him off for looking at you like that, someone else catches your attention.

That couldn’t be.

"Oh, he wouldn't do that…", you say under your breath, completely in disbelief, "that fucking..." 

Yuji holds you by your wrist. The two of you just stand there and watch as Megumi stumbles into the kitchen.

He was holding the hand of a blonde stranger. A stranger, at least until she turns around and sits down on the kitchen island in the middle of the room. You see Maki and Nobara turn to them as well, with Yuta looking at you instead.

You recognize the blonde girl right away.

And just when you think this scene couldn't get any more absurd, you watch as Megumi kisses Yue. Yue, the girl from the party last weekend, the one who went to the same class as you. The girl who tried to stop you from looking for Megumi. 

The girl who was so "worried" about you.

"What the fuck," you curse, trying to free yourself from Yuji's grip, "I'm going to fucking claw her eyes out, I fucking mean it."

Yuji was the only one who could hear you, loud music was still blaring from several speakers throughout the house.

"Am I fucking dreaming?" you yell over the music, "fucking let me go Yuji, I'm gonna..."

"That's his ex-girlfriend." Yuji says. Nothing else, just 'That’s his ex-girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend?

"I saw him talking to her right after he tried to beat up Choso," he adds.

He didn’t. That couldn’t be—

"No, he..." That couldn’t be true.

"I saw his car outside her dorm the morning after the party when I was walking over to football practice."

It took you a moment to process this information.

"He didn't..." You wanted to throw up. Maybe it was just the tequila, but there was still the tiny chance that this bizarre scene was to blame for you suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

"Get a fucking room, you disgusting piece of shit." You hear Nobara screaming over the music while Megumi and Yue were tightly entwined, standing right in the middle of the fucking room.

You were still standing next to Yuji, leaning against the kitchen counter and if looks could kill, the two of them would probably have turned to dust by now. You stared at Megumi, watching him as his hands wandered up her thighs and ass, caressing her waist while they made out as if they were the only people in the room.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, your eyes met. 

You could swear he was looking you straight in the eye as his lips trailed down her neck. His eyes were as dark as ever, almost pitch black, and if you were being honest you couldn't be sure if he was just drunk or if he took something else. Even by his standards, the show he was putting on was truly out of character

If that was one of his sick fucking games he liked to play he definitely did not give you a heads-up. What was he trying? Getting back at you for last weekend? What was he trying to achieve? And Yue was his ex-girlfriend? How come you're only finding out now, and how did she have the audacity to even look you in the eye last weekend, let alone try to comfort you?

"You don’t threaten someone you love with a gun."

Well, good for her that he was obviously treating her completely fucking different.

He seemed unfazed by Nobara's comment, and after your brief eye contact, he closed his eyes again, focusing entirely on the blonde in front of him. 

You were almost boiling with rage and the faces you made, made it really difficult to hide your anger.

"Let go of me," you say again with such emphasis that Yuji actually let go of your wrist.

"Don't do anything stupid," he says, clearly overwhelmed by the situation.

"Oh, I would never." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

'Don’t do anything stupid.' - You didn't even know what to do. For a moment you thought about going up to Yue and ripping out her ugly blonde extensions and telling Megumi how pathetic he was, but instead you did...

Nothing.

You gave Nobara and Maki a quick look, then turned on your heel and stormed out the kitchen door. The cool night air helped you to calm down and it managed to clear the chaos in your head a little.

You take a quick look around before you realize that Choso is still sitting outside with the others, who have spread out over the various seating areas on the patio.

You walk over to them with a determined stride, Kirara sees you from afar and greets you, causing Choso to turn around in your direction. He was sitting comfortably in a two-seater and as he looked at you, you immediately notice his heavy eyelids and dark red eyes. You smile at him and as soon as he realizes it was you, a wide grin appears on his lips.

He makes some room for you, but before he could move to the side you were already sitting next to him, leaning against him, your legs casually stretched across his lap. Not averse to the sudden physical contact, he puts his arm, which had been resting on the back of the two-seater, around your waist and his other hand on your thigh.

"Hi," he says quietly, "what took you so long?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe me," you whisper back, "your brother really hates tequila and I felt bad for making him do shots with me."

Choso laughs, not asking any more questions. 

"But I’m here now," you say, placing a hand on his chest, "guess I missed you."

"Did you smoke already?", you tease, looking up at him.

"Well, do I look like it?", he asks, that big grin not leaving his lips.

"Mhm, couldn’t tell," you lie while trying your best to hide your feelings from him.

You turn to look at the others and notice that Kirara is watching you. Gojo also looks at you from time to time, his gaze wandering from Choso's hand on your thigh to your hand on his chest. He raises an eyebrow, but you ignore him.

"Hi, y/n," Kirara says with a warm smile on their lips, "how are you? I missed you in class this week."

You could feel that they was really just concerned about you. After all, Kirara had been at the party last weekend as well.

"Yes, I'm better, I think," you answer and try to fake a smile, "Thanks for asking.

Kirara smiles at you again, "I can send you all the important stuff we did. It's not much though."

You watch as Hakari pulls them closer to him, his large body making them look so much smaller in comparison. Hakari and Kirara were one of your two favourite couples, the other one being Yuta and Maki, of course. He adored Kirara and wasn’t afraid to show that every chance he got.

You hear Getou clear his throat and you turn your gaze away from the two to look at him. You see that he is holding a joint out to you.

"You want some?", he asks and you politely decline.

"Oh, no, I think I need to chill for a bit." You smile at him. Your head was already spinning and you couldn't handle the sensation of another drug right now.

"Come on, you've got to try it, Hakari brought the good stuff," Gojo says, making you think for a moment before you reach out for Getou's hand.

"You're so easy to convince," you hear Gojo snort. He grins at you as you take a drag, but you just stick out your tongue.

"Or, maybe you’re just really convincing," you tell him, taking another drag before passing it to Choso.

"I'll remind you who's easy later tonight," Getou says, coming to your defence. You and the others break into laughter at his comment and watch as Gojo crosses his arms over his chest.

You hear the two of them start bickering and notice that the others, Hakari, Kirara, Nanami and Haibara, were also returning to their heated conversation.

"Did something happen in there?", Choso asks a little while later. He was observant even when he wasn't. Of course he had noticed something. You sigh, Hakari has just handed you the joint again and you hold it between your fingers. You take a drag, then a second one.

"Yeah," you say, blowing out thick, white smoke, "but I really just want to forget about it." 

It had already worked. Since you went outside, you had pushed the thought of Megumi and Yue far away from you. It was all so confusing, this time you couldn't understand what his motive could be. Of course he was angry that you had made out with Choso at the party last weekend, but you two had broken up. Why had he waited for you that night in the first place, was he really so shallow that all he wanted from you was sex? And what did he need you for anyway if he had spent the night with her after he dropped you off? 

The look he gave you earlier had been intentional. He wanted to make sure you were watching him, no doubt about that.

"It doesn't seem to be working very well," Choso says as you rest your head on the arm he has wrapped around you. You look up at him as your hand moves to caress his cheek for a moment but as soon as you notice, you pull it back. Even though Choso doesn't seem to mind. It just felt natural, you wanted to touch him as you enjoyed the feel of his hand on your skin as well.

"Being with you helps," you say, without breaking eye contact. That was the truth. Being with him felt peaceful, you didn't have to be afraid that he would snap at any moment, at something you said or did.

You didn't even notice that Nanami and Haibara had already gone inside, presumably to leave the party. Only when Hakari puts out the joint and says goodbye to take Kirara home, you look away from Choso to look at the others. 

Gojo does not make any effort to leave until Getou gets up, standing next to Gojo and looking at him expectantly.

"Come on, Satoru," you hear Getou say, "it's almost two o'clock, we have training tomorrow."

"Yes, but not until ten," the man with the white hair replies, not understanding why he should move now. Getou gives him a meaningful look and Gojo's eyes widen as he rose to his feet.

"Oh, uh - let's see what's going on inside then, I guess," he says, propping himself up on his knees to get out of the chair he was sitting in, "see you guys." 

Getou waves goodbye before pushing Gojo in front of him towards the patio door.

You’re all alone now, besides a few people standing outside and talking. You admire the night sky for a moment while neither of you says a word. It’s so quiet outside, peaceful even.

"Just the two of us, huh?", you say as you look up at Choso. You think for another moment but then, before he's has a chance to even say anything, you kiss him.

Choso wasn’t exactly surprised and instead kissed you back. His hand, which had just rested on your thigh, moved a little further up until it cupped your ass, moving up under your tiny skirt in a swift motion. 

You put your hand on his chest to support yourself and Choso pulls away for a brief moment. 

"You're so beautiful," he mutters, looking down at you through heavy eyelids and making you giggle, "I missed you." 

Then, your lips meet again. You move to straddle his lap, now sitting on top of him you were the one looking down at him.  

"You’re not so bad yourself, y’know," you whisper into his ear as you cradle his face in your hands, your thumb gently caressing the split in his lip.

When he said he missed you, you knew what he meant. 

Because you did, too.

Last weekend wasn't the first time you two had kissed. When Megumi had broken up with you, Maki had to study for some important exams and you had forbidden her from rotting with you in your depression cave. To make it easier for her, you had taken yourself out for a few evenings to Yuji’s place. He welcomed you with open arms in his new apartment, which he had just moved into with his brother. This was also the first time you got to know Choso properly, away from parties or those few casual encounters on campus.

It started innocently enough, your movie nights, the two of them watching every romcom with you that you had picked out beforehand. However, Yuji usually had training the next day, so he had to go to bed early. Choso promised to drive you home later, and as soon as Yuji disappeared into his room, you moved on to other things. He showed you some new songs, and sometimes a friend  of his would come over and Choso would sell him some weed. 

And at the end of the night you would find yourself spread out on his black leather couch, with his head buried between your thighs. 

It became a habit until Maki's exams were done and she wanted to spend more time with you.

You were glad that the couch you were sitting on had its back to the window in the kitchen, protecting you from the prying eyes of those who went outside to smoke or enjoy the cool night air. As you climbed onto Choso's lap, your skirt had risen up quite high, almost to your waist but you were past the point of caring what others would think.

You’re planting small kisses up his neck and jaw, watching him and how he enjoyed having you in his embrace. After a little while he pulls you into another kiss, this time you’re feeling exactly how hungry he was for you. You bite down on his bottom lip, hard, before you pull away for a moment to gasp for air. While you were grinding down on him, you could feel the thin fabric of your panties slowly getting coated with your slick as you were searching for some kind of friction. 

"How about…", you pause, while kissing his neck up to his earlobe, feeling him slowly but surely getting hard beneath you.

"How about we take this inside, maybe look for an empty room?", you finish your sentence.

You didn't have to ask twice before Choso had already grabbed you. He had one arm around your waist, his other hand digging into your hips while you let out a little squeal before wrapping your legs around his middle. He carried you a few steps until he gently set you down in front of the door into the kitchen.

"You’re going to have to walk real close in front of me," he mutters into your ear as he turns you around to take the lead. You could feel how hard he was already as he was pressed up against you and you couldn’t help but giggle at his remark. 

"I promise they’ll be way too drunk to notice," you say, "but let’s get inside and help you with that." 

***

"Shit—" You hear Choso curse under his breath as he was standing behind you, pumping his dick in his fist a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He had you bent over the bathroom sink right in front of him, his other hand digging into the flesh of your hips, surely leaving bruises on your skin.

You hear a loud bang at the door, but decide to ignore it. The person could find another bathroom, you were sure the house was big enough to have a few other options. As the person knocks a second time, this time even louder than the first, you feel Choso getting impatient.

"What the—", he mutters, turning towards the door. "Fuck off," he shouts, getting distracted for just a second while you were so desperate for him to fuck you already. You scoot your ass back against him, feeling the leaking tip of his cock sliding through your dripping wet folds and turning his attention back to you.

"Hold - fuck - hold still," he groans before pushing you down with his hand on your back, holding you in place so you were unable to squirm under his touch. 

"How about you hurry up a bit?", you tease from underneath him, earning yourself a slap on your ass almost immediately. You jerk forward a little, not expecting him to do that, but enjoying the stinging sensation to your skin all the same.

You let out a small moan as he pulls you back up against his chest, cupping your breast with one hand while pinching your nipple, "You’re in a hurry now, huh?", he groans and without giving you another heads-up, he pushes into you slowly. 

He was stretching you out already without even being all the way in, locking eyes with you in the mirror before bottoming out completely, letting out a loud groan as he did.

Choso watches as your lips formed an O, needy moans escaping your mouth while he is thrusting into your wet pussy at a devilishly slow pace. You could feel the perfect curve and every ridge of his dick, stretching you out so well before he pulls out almost entirely, just the tip prodding at your needy hole.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. His hand squeezes your breasts and you moan at his request, his low voice going straight to your core, making you even wetter than you already were.

"Tell me, did you miss me?," he groans, not breaking eye contact with you, "did you miss my dick?" He plants kisses down your neck and before you could give him an answer he pushes into you again, picking up his pace this time. You cry out at the sudden sensation, the stretch making your eyes roll back while loud moans were falling from your lips. 

"I miss— fuck…", you whine, "'missed you, 'missed your cock inside of me" You had to grab onto the edge of the sink, unable to form another thought besides how good it felt to have him bully his dick into you. 

"Please…", you beg as he continues to fuck into you, holding your trembling body tight against his own.

He watches how your body reacts to him as he was pounding in and out of your pussy relentlessly, your walls squeezing down on his cock so hard he had to use everything he had to not cum into you right then and there. 

"Look at you," he moans right into your ear, "look at yourself taking this dick so fucking good." 

His hand that was just digging into the soft skin of your hips moves further down, his fingers meeting your slick just seconds after. His thumb starts drawing harsh circles on your clit, earning  him a few loud moans that fell from your lips.

"Fuck— Choso, right there, plea—", you whine, eyes squinted shut, "please, 'wanna cum - fuck— don’t stop." 

"I said look at yourself," Choso groans into your ear as you suddenly feel him pulling his hand away, forcing you to obey him and open your eyes. You swallow at the reflection you see in the mirror in front of you.

You were already looking so fucked out, mascara smeared along your undereyes. Your tiny denim skirt was dangling around your waist and that high neck, sleeveless crop top was pulled up above your breasts, squeezing them together. 

"Good girl," he praises, pressing a kiss to your sticky temple while his fingertips continue to rub and pinch at your clit without any mercy. You cry out, louder than anticipated, and watch how tears start to prickle in the corners of your eyes. 

It was too much for you, you were barely able to contain yourself beneath him and you felt yourself getting tighter around him with every harsh thrust of his hips against your ass. Thank god the music outside was so loud, the heavy bass lining up with the lewd noises the both of you made. 

"Shit - you’re getting so fucking tight," he grunts before you hear low moans falling from his lips, "you wanna cum, pretty girl?"

All you can do is whine in response, as you already lost your ability to form meaningful sentences a while ago. "I’m gonna - gonna—", you cry, brows knit together at the overwhelming feeling of him hitting your cervix over and over again. 

You watch how Choso stares at you through the reflection in the mirror, your body almost going limp as you feel your core tightening and the only thing you were being able to do was moan his name, again and again.

"Then cum for me, babygirl," he whispers, his fingertips circling your nipples and pinching your swollen clit while he fucks into your throbbing cunt, getting you closer and closer to your release, until…

"There you go," Choso coos as he feels your walls pulsating around him. Your fingernails claw and scratch at the arm that he had wrapped around you, while you were trying to hold onto something, anything…

Then your orgasm washes over you and it made your thighs shake almost immediately. Choso doesn't stop fucking you through your overwhelming peak, giving you no time to breathe until he finally cums into you as well, thick ropes of hot and sticky cum painting your pussy white while  you had your eyes closed again and you hear him moan into your ear.

You lean back against his muscular chest as the two of you try to catch your breath, raspy moans and small whimpers fall from both of your mouths while neither of you was able to say anything.

You shiver as Choso slides out of you, goosebumps prickling across your body, before he turns you around and you open your eyes to look at him. Your cheeks were flushed and your legs almost too weak to stand on, but you manage to pull your top down, covering yourself up as Choso presses a kiss to your lips. 

He helps adjusting your skirt after you put your panties back on, stumbling against him as you were standing on one leg.

"Careful—", he says and catches you, almost giving you a Déjà vu. 

"You alway got my back, huh?", you ask playfully while you’re trying to fix your hair and makeup in the mirror. 

"Doing my best," he chuckles, pulling up his pants and putting on the hoodie he took off earlier. The shirt he was wearing underneath had stains at the bottom - well, his fault for not taking it off as well. "Let’s get out before they break in the door."

You reach for your bag, now that you can stand in your knee-high boots without holding on to anything, and just as you are about to head for the door, Choso beats you to it.

He holds the door knob as he looks down at you.

"Hey, let’s do that again sometime," he grins and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, "and text me if you want me to get you home."

"You're a gentleman after all," you say and take his hand, grinning as you stand on your tiptoes to give him another kiss on the cheek. "Actually, 'lemme just find Nobara and tell her I’m leaving, I won’t be taking long," you mutter before pulling back. 

"I’ll wait outside for you," Choso says after the both of you have left the bathroom. Not a lot of people were still left and those who were, were not paying attention to the both of you. You feel him squeeze your hand once more before he lets go of it and disappears into the hallway. 

***

You try and make your way into the kitchen, as a familiar voice startles you.

"Stop using my brother to make him jealous," Yuji says, his voice unusually cold as he suddenly pulls up behind you.

You freeze and turn around, slowly.

"What?", you ask, not willing to believe what you’ve just heard. 

"I'm sorry, y/n, but you heard me right," He was serious. Where had he suddenly come from? Had he seen or... heard you? 

"It’s not - it’s not like that, I mean, I," you stammered, completely taken by surprise, "I’m not using Choso."

"Honestly, Y/N, I don't care what you say, I care about my brother, and all you've been doing lately is destroying yourself. You don't give a fuck about your friends, we're always here for you, and yet you go back to him every chance you get."

Ouch.

You could tell he was drunk. This was unusual for him, he was an athlete and although he liked to go to parties, he rarely drank alcohol himself, apart from a few shots for fun. And it took a lot to get Yuji drunk, you were speaking from experience.

The words that came out of Yuji's mouth hurt you. He was right, but none of your friends had called you out on your bullshit yet.

"I can't save you, Y/N. I've given up on that, but don't drag Choso into this. He has no bad intentions and he would actually treat you well, I know you don't want that." Yuji was so serious and you couldn't even argue with him because he was right.

"Your brother is a grown man," you reply coldly, not even able to look him directly in the eyes.

"Yeah, exactly, he’s a man. Plus - he likes you." 

It wasn't as if you denied the way Choso looked at you with absolute adoration in his eyes. You knew he would move heaven and earth if you asked him for something, and even if he wasn't pushy, you could count on him. He was thoughtful and gentle, he knew what you liked and didn't like, and sex with him was fun, so what exactly were you missing?

"Listen, Yuji, this in none of your business," you say, trying your best to keep your calm, "I don’t need saving and your brother is perfectly capable of looking after himself, so—"

"Yeah, whatever," Yuji barks, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand that you only noticed now, "don't come back crying if he hits you again."

Wow. 

You watch him leave as you realize that you've never seen your best friend so upset. You take a step back, startled by the feel of the wall behind you. You feel your way along the cold wall, down the dimly lit hallway, not sure where you want to go, but you wanted to get away from here. Looking for a door to get out, you pass a few couples making out. 

You push down the door handles of a number of locked rooms and people coming towards you bumped into you. Some of them apologise, others look you up and down, whistling or shouting something at you, but your tunnel vision prevented you from noticing anything. 

You had your guard down while the things Yuji had said to you played over and over in your head. 

Just as you reached the door at the end of the corridor, it was a glass door and you could see the starry night sky through it, someone slammed you hard into the wall. You were pushed into the chest of a much taller person who opened the door to your right with one hand and pushed you in with the other. 

"Hey—", you protested, but you had no chance. The man was much stronger than you and at least two heads taller. The familiar scent that rose to your nostrils as you were pressed against his chest set off alarm bells ringing in your head. 

And as you looked up, even the last doubts you naively had were erased.

"Megumi…", you gasp, and immediately try to get a few steps between the both of you. You hear him lock the door behind him and you instantly feel like a cornered animal. Your eyes scan the room for ways to escape, but unless you wanted to climb out the window, the door was the only way out. 

He looked you straight in the eye, all emotion gone from his face. It was obvious that you, on the other hand, were scared. You hadn't seen anyone outside and you were alone in some guest bedroom that was located in a part of the house where you couldn’t even hear anymore music playing.  

You clutched your bag and pulled your big leather jacket, which you had put on on the way out, tightly around you.

As if that would somehow protect you.

Megumi was still standing by the door, motionless. The grin on his lips never reached his eyes as he stared at you.

"I heard you were having fun in there," he says as you watch him closely.

Fuck.

"Yeah, and I want to leave now," you reply, trying your best to contain your voice, "why don’t you go back to Yue and leave me alone?" 

"Mhm." He seems like he’s thinking about it for a moment. "I don’t think so."

You gather all your courage as you decide to walk towards him.

"Cut your bullshit, Megs," you demand, "let me out of here."

He grabs you roughly as you try to reach for the door, pushing you back into the room.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?", you hiss, not willing to hold back anymore.

"You show up here, with your ex-girlfriend, making out with her, in front of me, in front of all my friends, and when you don't get the reaction you want, you jump me?" You almost yell at him and he was still just standing there in front of you with no reaction.

"I'm not doing this anymore Megumi, this isn't one of your little games anymore," you add, on the verge of tears, "why are you doing this to me?"

"I'll do whatever I want to you," his voice was as calm as always, scaring the living shit out of you as he walks towards you.

"I don't care about Yue, she was just, well, there," he says, watching you closely, "I wanted to know if you meant any of what you were saying last weekend, but as soon as your cute ego gets hurt you’re letting the next best guy fuck you in the bathroom."

You feel tears prickling in your eyes, and your attempts to blink them away only cause them to trickle down your cheeks.

"Oh," he mocks you, "now you’re crying." 

"Fuck you," you hiss and wipe the tears from your face. 

When he was standing right in front of you, you could smell not only his familiar scent, but also the smell of alcohol as he spoke to you. He was tense, you could feel it, and in the darkness his eyes looked almost pitch black as he stared at you.

"Watch how you talk to me," he says through clenched teeth, "just because you can't stand that you act like a fucking slut every time, just to get my attention."

What he said made you cry even more and you didn't bother trying to wipe off the tears anymore.

"I don’t wanna talk to you right now," you sob, but of course he doesn’t care what you want.

"But I wanna talk to you," he barks, grabbing you by your wrists as you try to shuffle away from him, "what is it about him that you go back for a second and a third, huh? Want me to beat him up for good this time?"

He was squeezing your wrists so hard that it hurt. 

"I’ll kill him if he ever touches you again," he spits, "fucking dirty whore."

You weren't sure what hurt more, his words, or the way he twisted your arms to bring you closer to his face.

"Shut the fuck up and leave me alone," you manage to get out, "you’re pathetic. I don’t need you."

You try to break free of his grip a second time, only this time he lets go of you to push you away from him. He does this with such force that you lose your balance and stumble backwards into the bed frame, which was now right behind you.  

You land on the mattress and before you know it, you feel his hand clench around your throat, pulling you up to his eye level again. You have to stand on your tiptoes to take some of the pressure off your neck.

He didn’t squeeze much but it still hurt. His grip was strong as ever and you couldn't move, so you stayed still, hoping he wouldn't hurt you any more.

You grimaced in pain and tried to look him straight in the eye. Somehow he had to realize what he was doing, didn't he? He was delirious and that frightened you. You knew this kind of situation all too well and it made you freeze. There was nothing you could do about it, you could only beg him to stop or try and keep still.

"Megumi, please, I’m sorry, you’re— you’re right," you sob, cheeks wet with tears, "just let me go, please…"

Suddenly you feel his hand tighten around your throat, but you don't realize it until he grabs you  by your neck and slams you right back into the mattress behind you. You have no time to react, you just feel a sharp pain as your head hits the headboard and then he finally presses down hard on your throat. You're helpless, gasping for air, barely able to process what he's just done.

"You’re such a fucking whore, Y/N," he fumes, shaking you and pushing you even deeper into the mattress, "you deserve to get treated exactly like the little fucking slut you are."

You whimper and cry, while hearing the blood rushing through your ears as you struggle against his grip.

Panic rises in you and you feel your eyes begin to sting with more hot tears running down your cheeks. In your desperate struggle you feel your muscles ache and your body give in, the shock knocking the last bit of air out of your lungs and you can't breathe, you know you're about to pass out.

"Tell me again who’s pathetic?" His face was right next to yours as he whispered into your ear.

You couldn't stop crying, even though you couldn't even make a sound. You were sure he was going to kill you this time. 

You had to fight back, but he was so much stronger than you.

"Megumi…", you groan.

"I— I need to—", you cough, desperately trying to claw at his arms, "breathe…please…stop—"

You cry and plead and try to free yourself, all while your strength slowly but surely leaves your body. And then, just milliseconds before you were about to lose consciousness, you feel the air flowing back into your lungs. 

You're so out of breath, coughing and choking and crying all at the same time, while your throat burns so badly, that for a moment you're not even sure he's really let you go.

The moment he lets go of you and stands up, you pull your legs towards you and crawl as far away from him as you can, putting your hands around your neck for protection, pulling the high-neck of your top up over the bruises that were probably already starting to form. 

You shake uncontrollably and can hardly stop crying, while he just stands there watching you. You wrap your arms around your legs, concentrating on your breathing as your body continues to shake.

Then he turns and leaves the room without another word to you.

And you wonder if this is your fault.

***

"I'm so sorry," you say, standing behind Choso after you finally found your way out of the house. He was sitting on the steps outside the main entrance, a bottle of beer in his hand, waiting for you. You snuggle into your much too large jacket as you sit down next to him.

"You've been gone for half an eternity." Choso gently nudged into your side and you wince, barely noticeable.

"Nobara was throwing up downstairs," you lie, "I couldn’t leave her."

"Oh, really," he says, you couldn't know he'd seen her leave almost an hour ago, "poor girl, I hope she's feeling better now.

You say nothing, tugging at the high neckline of your top, your legs bouncing nervously.

Choso notices and puts a hand on your thigh. You flinch again and this time he feels it.

"Are you all right?", he asks worriedly, looking at you. Your long hair hides the bruises on your neck, but what it can't hide is your blank stare, your swollen lips and your red, watery eyes.

You nod. 

"Yeah, I'm just cold," you say, trying to smile. Your throat's still hurting when you speak.

He puts the bottle to the side and shuffles closer to you. 

The both of you were sitting on the stairs for a while, neither one of you saying a single word. Choso sensed that something must have happened, but what could he do? He knew you lied to him about Nobara, so he figured you wouldn't tell him anything he didn't want to hear.

"Sometimes I just want what they have, y’know?", you sigh after a while and lean into Chosos side, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment.

"I know I will never find that kinda love."

You're talking about the scene that took place in front of you, a scene that caught your attention immediately. Yuta and Maki were about to leave the party together, and Maki was completely drunk. Yuta had his arm around her to manoeuvre her into the car. They both giggled while Maki tried to wrestle her boyfriend, making it harder than it had to be for the poor boy to get her home quickly.

As you look away, you notice that Yuji was sitting in the passenger’s seat with the window down.

He was getting impatient, waiting for them to finally get into the car, and as he turned to see what was taking them so long, your eyes met briefly. 

You saw him open his mouth as if to say something, but then he noticed Choso sitting next to you and he immediately turned away.

He was still mad at you.

Yuta had finally made it and Maki was sitting safe and sound in the back seat. He planted a kiss on her forehead before gently closing the door behind her and walking around the car. You looked away but he caught you watching the scene and stopped for a moment, flashing you both a smile before he waved goodbye, got into the car and drove off.

"What do you mean?" you hear Choso's voice after you have sat in silence for another while. The car disappeared and you just stared into the distance, trying to find the right words.

"I don't know, there's just no...", you pause for a moment, thinking how pathetic you're going to sound, "there's just no darkness."

That's it. Everything about their relationship was genuine, they cared for each other. There was not a hint of jealousy, no one was trying to control or manipulate the other.

"It's just sweet, they're just... sweet," you swallow, feeling so vulnerable in that moment, "they don't hate each other, there's just so much love. I don't know if that would ever be enough for me. Doesn't it get boring?"

Once again, you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm going crazy," you mumble.

None of you says a word after that. At some point, you lift your head from Choso's shoulder to look at him, almost as if you want him to say something.

"You’re not," he says, his voice sounding determined.

"I mean, you're pretty fucked up, but you're not crazy." Choso pulls two cigarettes out of a pack and hands you one, lighting yours first. He stuffs the pack back into his jacket and takes a few puffs, immediately blowing the smoke out into the cool night air before turning back to you,

"I don’t fuck with insane chicks, learned my lesson." 

He nudges your side again to make sure you understand that he was joking, but you were already too far up in your head. You smoke your cigarette, breathing in the smoke as if it might bring you some kind of clarity.

"I think I'm going to get back together with him," you whisper, almost as if you don't want to hear what's coming out of your own mouth.

Choso does not answer. 

Of course he doesn’t. 

What was he supposed to say? He didn't know what exactly was going on between you and him, but at this point he knew that there was something, at least from his side. It was unfair of you to talk to him about it, of all people, and at the same time he knew that you couldn't talk to anyone else at the moment.

"Y/n, tell me, what do you want to hear from—" 

You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"It's a mistake, right?"

"Don't do it, just…", he pauses and takes a drag, "don't do it."

"I don't know if I can help it," you tell him, sounding defeated. 

Inhaling, you feel what you had been blocking out all along. Your throat hurts. The cigarette smoke that keeps pouring into your lungs only makes it worse, and the sudden pain in your chest when you inhale too deeply makes you wince.

You knew that those bruises would form. Like splashes of blue and green paint they would cover your neck, spreading all around your throat. 

Choso doesn’t reply to this, either. 

His head was hanging low. Not because he was disappointed or pissed off that he wasn’t able to make another move on you tonight, but because he was afraid to lose you. 

Because he knew he couldn’t really do anything to save you.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I do or the rest of the world does, really," he sighs and pulls you in, wrapping his arm around your waist and letting you rest your head against his chest. He wanted to say so much more but he stopped himself before opening his mouth. 

He knew it wouldn’t change a thing. 

@bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9 @arminsgfloll @chifuyusfingers @kokonoiscoconut thx for motivating me to keep on writing <3

[ms-moonlight-inn]

“Shame-proof” DVD Commentary

Thank you to @shamelessdvdcommentary & to the anon to requested us (whoever you are, we love you!). My bestie @notherenewjersey & I are here to answer all of your burning questions (do you have the syph? why's it burning? it's not supposed to burn.)

Anyway, here's our stuff... hopefully it'll help with that itchy burny.

Which fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

“Shame-proof” is about two childhood actors who lose contact with each other after their series wraps. Quickly, we find out that Ian had been harboring a deep crush on Mickey, who had basically been bullying Ian the whole time. Confessions & apologies ensue.

Also, a friend called it an undercover RPF... and if that’s how you choose to look at it, well we’re not gonna stop you.

NJ–  it COULD be RPF but that’s not how it was written. We weren’t imagining Cam or Noel’s childhoods here, aside from what we stole of Mickey’s back canon that Ian watches as he pines.

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

The outline started on 4/16/24. 22887 words posted. Posted for the Summer Camp project on 8/3 but we were done before that.  Moonlight was convinced it would be 10k but I knew it was bigger. And this was without us going down every rabbit hole we saw. It’s 8 chapters, most of the chapters start with a flashback to the past and then jump to the “present.”

Moonlight– seriously, NJ dragged me away from some other HC I had kicking around, & we dove into this one instead.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

I read Jeanette McCurdy’s book, and as with any time I read anything, my brain said “What if this was Gallavich?” I know Moonlight is an L.A. girl, so I knew I wanted her input. I think I had a rough outline already when I looped her in, but she immediately took what I had and expanded and deepened it, as she always does.

Moonlight– God it’s so much fun to talk trash about all the things you grew up with & around. Los Angeles is filled with opportunities for trash talking. LOL 

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

This didn’t start out as either of us deciding to stay in Ian’s POV, but in order to keep Mickey’s motivations a little more opaque, we landed there. Until the latter chapters, at least. For the drama.

Moonlight– No further comment.

What was your favourite scene to write?

All of them? I like Sue so much, and I love writing Frank’s bullshit. RuPaul is fun, too. 

Moonlight– I’ve got two favorite scenes. The first is the scene where they’re kids doing the campground episode. I adored the moments of discovery Ian had there –figuring out that trees existed in southern California, figuring out that he had a serious crush on Mickey, and then the boy he meets on set as he’s running away from his problems. (BTW, 10 punk rock points to anyone who knew the song before I remembered to add a link).

The other scene I loved writing was the rimming scene. In the outline NJ said, “they get together in the sexiest and most romantic way.” And I wanted to throw my laptop at her face. SERIOUSLY, what the actual fuck?! So I got them all the way up to the part where Ian’s naked and stalled out for, like, two weeks. I was on a call with @mybrainismelted saying, “I’m stuck on this scene. I’ve managed to get one dick out, but I haven’t quite figured out how the other one’s gonna get naked AND STILL KEEP THIS BULLSHIT SEXY AND ROMANTIC.” Needless to say, I figured it out. 😁

NJ– Yup! That was, I think, the entire outline for that chapter, originally. One line. I knew that’s what happened at that point in the story, why bother with details? LOL

How did you come up with the title?

Oh geez. Trying to come up with both an AU of Shameless AND a reboot name, both of which would sound semi-natural was tough! But Shame-proof is more than just the title of a fake TV show. It also speaks to how Ian and Mickey were able to finally live wholly as themselves. No more hiding, nothing left unsaid. Without shame, shameless in the very best ways.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

I always throw things in. We both do. But hopefully, readers who haven’t read either our individual or joint back canon can still enjoy the story.

Moonlight– See easter egg question.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

No.

NJ– if one of us is stuck, the other usually isn’t or can jostle the other into being unstuck. We’re good like that.

Favorite line in the story?

NJ– @gallavichgeek pointed out two of my favorite lines, but I will repeat them here because … yeah. 

“Hey, come back,” Mickey says softly.

“I’m still here,” Ian answers, a little confused.

“Yeah, but all of you. M’ not ready to let any of you go a moment sooner than I hafta.”

***

“I’d say,” he hesitates, then goes on, “that someday you’re gonna get everything you ever wanted. That all the bad shit, the bullshit, and the pain, it’ll all be worth it.” 

***

If I crash, I’m coming back to haunt you, Ian had answered.

If you crash, I’m diving in after you.

***

Moonlight– “What the fuck? How ‘bout double-dutch no with a cherry on top.” Mickey steadily refuses. (Anytime Mickey is being creative with his cursing & curses is a good time. Bad language & mockery are his love languages.)

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc) 

All of it? It’s a great story. 

Moonlight– I’m also proud of the structure we used. It was NJ’s choice to do what basically amounted to two mini chapters in one –past & present colliding, if you will. And it worked so well for this storyline. 

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

Not deleted, so much as we had ideas that didn’t make it to fully fleshed for the final draft.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a character’s head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

NJ– It’s important for people to know that Mickey in the past was protecting Ian so much more than he was protecting himself, with his bullying behavior. 

Moonlight– God, yes. 

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

NJ– I want more of Ray, more of Sue, more of the Random Studio Infant now grown up. More of Sheila and of Kermit. I want the world to be fuller. And maybe it will, eventually.

Moonlight– Def’ more Ray, he’s funny & I’m sure he & Ian had so many stupid adventures. I think I’d like to see a few of the conversations between Ian & Mickey, but I struggle with that ‘cause I love when there is that air of mystery to a storyline. I don’t necessarily want to be told everything. But I think at least one of those late night conversations we reference would be nice to see.

NJ– yeah, we did have a time limit so some of the scope got condensed. I agree, those conversations would be incredible to see/hear. 

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Well…. This story has legs. It has scope beyond what you’ve seen. I have believed, since the outline began, that this was the fic that would make the leap to traditional publishing. Moonlight and I are hoping to expand it and bring it to a publisher. “It’s a crossover between Shameless, I’m Glad My Mom Died, and RWRB.” Who wouldn’t wanna read that? LOL The Gallagher family will shrink a little, Terry will still be his monstrous self. So no, there won’t be a traditional fic sequel. But if we’re all very, very lucky, there will be an expanded version that scratches the same itch.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc?

The Saint Christopher’s medallion that Ian receives from Mickey? Yeah, the person I wrote that for knows it was for them. 🫶 

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

By far NOT our most popular story. Yet.

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

I HATE waiting to post- posting a fic like this where it’s all done upfront is hard for me, emotionally. So I was beyond excited for people to read it and love it as much as we do!

Moonlight– NJ really hates not posting immediately. Like, really hates it. This fic was written for the @gallavich-fic-club Summer Camp Event & we had to wait our turn. Which she HATED. 🤣 

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

Can we count each other? I’m a genuine writing freak- fast, thoughtless, and I rarely edit beyond typos. (many of which elude me and still end up in the final draft.) Moonlight is the opposite- she’s incredibly deliberate and also deeply and passionately devoted to the editing process. When we edit together, it can look a little argumentative, but we trust each other, so a lot of those conversations end up like, “I don’t see the issue, but I trust your judgment.” We both say it all the time.

Moonlight– D’aw, bb. You’re making me blush. You’re right, I am a meticulous asshole, but your brain is fast & witty. Together, we write good shit. 

NJ-- Also, god the verb tenses in this story gave me fits. I am a grammar nerd, so is Moonlight. But skipping between tenses for the past and present when we wrote straight through- she never had an issue but I regularly was in the wrong tense and had to go back and fix, cursing my own self the whole time. Loudly. Often on the phone with Moonlight. 

Moonlight– 🤣🤣🤣 yeah…

If any one has any comments, words of praise, complaints you’d like to register with our headquarters, please let us know. 

NJ - in the greatest detail, if you’d be so kind.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

Moonlight– Yes, the cheese sledding story is based on semi-true events. The guys at my high school used to carry large blocks of ice to the top hill of the local golf course & ride them down. Years later, a dorm mate I knew in grad school told us about his Vermont cheese tour where he saw “giant wheels of cheese” that he swore he could use as a mode of transportation. And so, the cheese sledding story was born. 

NJ-- And I made sure it was at Trump’s golf course because a few years back, a man in New Jersey did some fun vandalism like that and I find it deeply satisfying.

🧀🛷 

[donteattheappleshook]

Not Broken At All Chapter 17/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Thank you thank you thank you @the-darkdragonfly for helping me so much with this chapter I literally wrote at your kitchen table lol.

This one is a bit shorter because I had to move the last scene to the next chapter or it would have been like 10k long…. but hopefully that means chapter 18 is coming soon!

(at least you didn't have to wait a year for chapter 17?)

*******

Part 17

Emma follows Killian’s eyes as they dart towards the ceiling, the deck above their heads. It’s dark out, but not the dark of night, the dark of an oncoming storm, that ominous, looming chill of electricity in the air, the waves lapping against the sides of the ship that rocks unsteadily against the threatening sea. A shiver runs down her spine. Whether Pan’s here or not - he’s fucking furious. 

There’s a knock on the door, Wendy not waiting for permission before pushing it open. “Is he here?” Killian asks, voice low. 

She shakes her head, holding a small, empty vial. “Not yet. But Ianeira sent a warning - he’s on his way and he’s not happy.” She looks out at the first heavy drops that land against the window like bullets. “Obviously.” 

“Get the boys below deck,” he orders, still not raising his voice above the rumble of the storm outside. “Scarlet,” he adds, the younger pirate leaning against the doorframe, “go wake the crew. Tell them to be ready for a fight.” 

“What are you going to do?” Wendy frowns like she already knows the answer. 

“Handle Pan.” 

“Absolutely not.” Emma answers at the same time as Wendy’s “like hell” rings through the air. “This was my idea. I’ll go deal with the consequences,” she insists, but her words are ignored as the two captains continue to argue. Will shoots her a sympathetic shrug from his place in the doorway. 

“We don’t have time to argue,” Killian finally snaps at his second, standing and grabbing Emma’s pants from where she hung them last night before tossing them to her. “Pan and his Lost Boys will be here any minute and we need to make sure the boys are hidden and the crew is ready to defend the Jolly.” 

“Is that an order, Captain?” Wendy asks, arms crossing over her chest and Killian stiffens. Emma didn’t miss the weight put behind the question.

“Cap-” he starts but she cuts him off.

“No. No more of this ‘I’m not the captain’ or two captains bullshit. If you’re going to pull rank and make me follow orders then you don’t get to decide you don’t want to be in charge anymore tomorrow. If this crew is going to put our lives on the line for your plan, and trust you to handle Pan, then you’re going to be the one to make the order. And if you die today -” Her harsh facade breaks just a fraction - “It won’t be because of something I could have stopped.” 

The room is silent as the two stare each other down, the rush and howls of the storm growing louder outside, growing closer as they remain locked in the standoff, Wendy’s ultimatum hanging between them. “Well?” she demands. 

He’s silent for another moment, but then he lets out a sigh. “Bring the boys below deck, make sure they don’t make a sound or Pan will remember that they’re here.” Another hesitation as neither she or Will move and his thumb runs over the ring on his finger. “That’s an order.” 

Wendy’s shoulders both straighten and sag at once as she shifts into her new role, her face blank, betraying nothing, but Emma knows. She can see the hurt and the fear, of his betrayal and of the danger he’s putting himself in as she nods. “Aye, Captain.” 

Killian flinches away from the title just the barest amount before she heads out of the room. 

“What are you gonna tell him?” Will glares at his usurping captain. 

Killian sighs. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.” He reaches for his shirt, pulling it on over his head and turning to find the man still there. “Go wake the crew,” he orders again and Will stares at him for a long moment before doing as he’s told. 

Emma watches him as he dresses, yanking her own pants on and rising from the bed, the buttons of his vest fastened methodically, one by one with practiced fingers before he dons his greatcoat. She realizes what she’s watching as he slides his sword into its sheath, secures it to his hip: a soldier dressing for battle, each piece of his armour clad carefully down to the expression he smooths over his face, the one that hides the man who’d let her in his bed and held her against the threat of the night behind a cold, heartless facade.

“Killian,” she starts, ready to fight him on this. Rescuing the boys was her decision. She’d made them do it. This should be her responsibility. Nobody else's lives should be on the line for her choices. A boom of thunder cuts her off before a flash of lightning brightens the room.

“He’s here,” Wendy tells them, stepping back into the room. Killian doesn’t confirm if his orders have been followed - he doesn’t need to. 

“Let me go,” Emma insists. “I can tell him it was my idea. I can -” 

“No.” They answer in unison and before she can protest a boom of thunder echoes above them and an angry, lilting voice calls out above them. 

“Thieves! Show yourselves!” The demand is followed by a roar of approval, small, young voices calling out in a battle cry she’s heard before. The room goes silent, tension in every line of her body and Killian’s. Wendy looks to her captain, waiting for orders, hands fisted like she’s trying not to barge up there herself. 

Emma sees the barest flash of fear in his gaze before he schools it and turns to her, leveling her with a hard, commanding look. 

“Go to the hold with the children. Promise me you’ll stay down there - that you won’t make a sound.” Emma glares at him, his face only inches away as he speaks so quietly she can barely hear him. He glares back just as defiantly. “Promise me, Swan.” She doesn’t answer. She’s not promising that. Not when it’s her fault Pan’s here and he could hurt them. “They need you. They trust you and they need to stay hidden. If Pan’s reminded they’re here… he might demand their lives in place of the dead we took.” 

Her glare deepens. “I know what you’re doing.” 

The corner of his mouth turns up just a fraction before he straightens it. “Then you should have no problem following through with it.” When her shoulders straighten his hand comes to her cheek. “We can’t risk Pan finding out about you - not while we don’t have a way of defeating him or saving Henry. You can’t protect anyone if you’re dead,” he adds, using her words against her now and her eyes narrow. “You can’t protect Henry if you’re dead.” That one hits hard and Emma knows he’s right - but she still doesn’t like it. She doesn’t want him dead either. 

Pan’s warning rings out again, harsher this time - ‘Come out and face me, coward!’ - and Killian’s shoulders tense. “Fine,” she concedes. “But if things go bad -”

“You’ll stay right here.” It’s a warning, and she almost wants to call him on it, to see what he really thinks he can do to her that’s worse than the situation they’re already in, but she bites her tongue. He takes her silence as the end of the discussion. “Darling,” he calls over his shoulder. “Bring her to the hold and then join me on deck - Darling,” he tries again when she doesn’t respond, but Wendy’s attention is focused outside the cabin, staring out down the hall, a frown starting to pull at her brow and Killian’s matches it. “Wendy?”

“Where’s Will?” 

“What?” 

“Will.” Her voice is low, far away but rising with tightly restrained panic. “He should be back by now. Where’s the crew?” 

As if on cue, a voice rings out loudly above them. “Pan! Two visits in as many days? To what do we owe the honour?” They rush to the stairs, crouched low looking out at where Will stands, alone, facing off against Pan. Fuck. Please don’t be an idiot. She can feel Wendy tense beside her and Killian reaches, grabbing his first mate’s arm. 

“Don’t,” he warns and Emma’s surprised to see her try to yank her arm free. But he holds firm. 

“Scarlet.” Pan sounds annoyed but intrigued nevertheless. “It’s been a long time.” He cocks his head, a small smirk on his childlike face. “You got old.”  

 “Go get the crew,” Killian orders, staring her down and not releasing her until the fight fades slightly from her eyes. He knows how much this must be killing her. “If there’s going to be a fight, we won’t be able to stop him alone. Bring them with you and meet me on deck.” 

Will baulks. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’ve the complexion of a man less than half my age.” He brushes a hand over his scruffless cheek as if to prove it.

There’s still resistance in Wendy’s stance but she nods, dashing off towards the crew’s quarters. Killian turns to her. “Stay here. Don’t let the children leave the hull.” She can only nod, still watching as her new friend continues to bait Pan. “Bloody idiot,” Killian mutters under his breath.

Emma grabs his arm, halting him. She waits until his questioning gaze turns to her. “Be careful. Please.”

He watches her for a moment, eyes darting up to the deck, and then takes her hand, presses a kiss to the back of it and nods the voices above growing louder. He spares her one last glance before dashing up the stairs.

“Hook,” Pan says as soon as he reaches the bow of the ship. “There you are. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” 

“Apologies,” Killian offers with a small bow and a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Where are my shadows?” 

“Your shadows? We don’t have any shadows here.” 

“Don’t lie,” Pan snaps and Emma flinches. “You stole eleven lost boys from me. Those were my lives - I won them fair and square. Give them back.” Emma half expects him to stomp his foot, but it’s then that she realizes that he can’t - because he’s not on the deck. He’s flying, or hovering a few feet above it. Wendy had said that Neverland’s magic couldn’t touch the Jolly - does that mean Pan can’t either? Can he not set foot onboard?

“They’re at the bottom of the sea, I’m afraid,” Killian tells him with a wince and she can see the rage building in the small boy.  

“Then I’ll take them from your crew. Eleven of them in exchange for the ones that you took.” Emma casts a glance back down the hall towards the hold where a dozen children hide. 

“No need for that,” Killian begins. “They aren’t to blame for this little misunderstanding. I’m sure we can find a solution where you get what you want that’s fair.” Pan hesitates at the word fair. He loves his games - he loves his rules. 

“Then who is to blame?” he demands. “Bring the thief forward so that he can be punished.”

“Unfortunately we-”

“I did it.” 

“Scarlet,” Wendy hisses in warning, but he’s already taking another step towards Pan. 

“It was my idea.” 

Pan glares. “Why?” 

There’s a pause and then Will smirks. “I just wanted to piss you off. For old time’s sake.” 

The boy’s anger shifts into something cruel and amused. “Well then, you can pay the price for old times sake. You remember how much fun my punishments can be,” he adds. She sees Will’s back go stiff right before Pan’s hand plunges deep into his chest and Emma has to cover her mouth with her hands to catch the scream that tries to escape. The crew stills, petrified. This isn’t the first time they’ve seen this happen.

“Wait!” Wendy shouts as Will lets out a groan of pain. Killian grabs her arm, silencing her and holding her in place. Pan ignores her, pulling his hand free, something bright and red and glowing held in his palm. That can’t be what she thinks it is. 

“Eleven lives,” he muses again, floating easily across the deck, thinking. He gives the thing a small squeeze and Will cries out falling to his knees. Pan smirks, he’s enjoying this, she can tell; he already knows what he wants to do and Emma’s nails dig into her palms, every bone in her body demanding she go up there and not let this happen. It should be her that pays the price. Not Will. 

His fingers tighten around it again and Will stops breathing, hand clutched to his chest where his heart should be until finally, Pan loosens his grip, looking at Will with his head cocked again. “You really did get old, Scarlet. But maybe not old enough…” He looks him over carefully, then the mass in his hand. “Eleven Lost Boy’s lives… so many years - But I think we can make it an even hundred. For old times sake?” he smirks. “That sounds fair,” he decides. “You can pay me back a hundred years.” 

When he squeezes the heart again, Will collapses onto the deck, bits of dust slipping from Pan’s fingers as the light flickers in and out and Emma can see Killian physically holding Wendy back now, knuckles white around the leather of her coat. Nobody breathes. The crew look like it’s taking everything they have not to run - either to Will or away from Pan. Instead they stand frozen. 

She counts the seconds as they go by. One. Two. Three. Four. Five… Will rasps out a strangled cry, fists balling against the wood planks of the deck. Six. Seven. Eight… She watches him grit his teeth, sweat beading along the back of his neck, fighting. Nine. Ten. Eleven…

When she reaches eleven, Will takes his first breath in what feels like hours, the light in Pan’s loosened grip smaller and dimmer but still glowing, still beating. 

“That should do it,” he smiles, returning Will’s heart to his chest.

Will gasps, settling his hand over it as if to feel the beat under it - make sure it’s really there. Then he frowns up at the boy. “Is… is that it?” 

“Scarlet.” It’s Killian who snaps this time. “Below deck. Now.” Emma can’t see the look Wendy gives him when Will defers to her, but it sends him to his feet and across the deck in a second, head bent low. 

“Emma,” he greets with all his usual bravado despite the raspiness of his breath when he finds her on the stairs. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

She punches him in the arm. Hard.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Ow!” 

“That was so stupid! What the hell were you thinking?” 

Will shrugs. “I owed him one. And I’m not going to let Killian get one up on the galant gestures.” 

“Hook.” Pan says, drawing her attention away before she can hit Will again. “If your crew isn’t going to play fair then they won’t get to play with us anymore”

“I’ll get them in line,” he promises and she can hear the edge in his voice. 

“Good. Do you need a reminder of the rules? You were away for a long time…”

“I remember.” 

Pan nods, happy now - a child getting his way. “Good. Then the game can continue.” He turns, hovering over the railing of the ship and casting them one last glance as the threat of a storm begins to clear. “But no more chances,” he warns. Both Killian and Wendy nod solemnly before he flies off towards the beach. 

As soon as he’s gone, Wendy practically runs towards the cabin. “All of you,” Killian commands, drawing the crew’s attention away from their former captain. “Back to work. Now,” he snaps when they don’t obey immediately. They scatter, finding work to keep them busy. 

Emma has to jump out of the way as the other woman barrels down the stairs, grabbing Will by the shoulders. She turns him one way and then another, hands coming to his face as she does the same to his head, checking for injuries. Finally, her hand settles on his chest and Emma can tell she’s counting heartbeats. Will lets her, not resisting as she checks him for any sign of permanent damage. 

When she seems satisfied, she raises furious eyes to his, the hand at his chest fisting in his shirt and shoving him away from her. “Fuck you, Scarlet,” she bites out before storming off down the hall. 

Killian takes over, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Will is less willing to let himself be manhandled by him though, shoving at his arm even as he holds firm. “Do you not know how to follow an order, mate?” 

“I’m not your mate,” he snaps back, more annoyed than angry. “And you’re not my Captain.” 

“And here I thought we were getting along,” Killian answers sarcastically. “And you don’t have to like it, but I am your Captain and if you do that to her again -”

“Like you did when you took off to find Henry?” 

“That was different. I did it to spare her the pain of losing someone she cares for.” 

“So did I. Do you really think Pan would have been so forgiving if you’d taken the blame? You’ve been gone a long time, Hook. You’re not his favourite playmate anymore.” 

“And you are?”

“I’m still alive aren’t I?” 

Killian scoffs. “You’ve lasted a decade. Speak to me when you survive a century.” 

“Well if we keep her alive we won’t have to,” Will snarks, nodding at Emma. 

“Me?”

“I wouldn’t have stuck my neck out for you if I didn’t think you were actually going to change things.” Emma doesn’t have an answer to that, the weight of his faith in her more than she can handle right now. “Don’t make me regret it, aye?” he winces, rubbing at his chest.

“What did he do to you?”

He gives a small shrug. “Crushed my heart. Wasn’t so bad, really - I’ve had worse.” 

“What?” 

“It’s a particular favourite of his,” Killian explains. 

“I’ve seen him do it to disobedient Lost Boys for hours - days once. He’s done it longer to me when I was his second. I’m surprised it was only…”

“Eleven seconds,” Emma supplies. The longest eleven seconds she can remember.

“Aye - I thought he’d be angrier.” 

“What did he mean by you paying him back a hundred years?” 

Will shrugs again. “Pan loves his riddles. I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. I need to go find Wendy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Killian warns and it almost sounds like a threat. 

Will scoffs, finally shoving his hand away. “Please. I’ve done stupider things than egg Pan on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Killian rolls his eyes and Will glares at him before smirking.

“I’ve become very good at getting her to forgive me.” 

Emma wonders for a moment if she’s going to have to prevent a murder. “Get out of here before I get Pan to come back and crush your heart for good.” 

“What? I thought we were mates -”

“Go,” Emma tells him. Before Killian follows through on that promise. Thankfully, Will isn’t stupid enough to push him any further and does as he’s told. She puts a hand on Killian’s arm. “Just remember that he almost died today. Cut him a bit of slack.” He doesn’t seem convinced, continuing to glare after the younger man. “And he might have saved our lives. He definitely saved mine.” 

Killian scoffs, finally looking at her. “And he’ll never let us forget it.”

“So what’s next?” she asks, trying to distract him from his sort of daughter and her sort of boyfriend’s sort of love life. 

“Hmm?”

“We’ve got the lorelei, we’ve got Tinkerbell, we’ve got a ship full of Lost Boys and pirates, we kept him from getting any more shadows… what do we do now?”

“We figure out what Pan’s plan is.”

“Can we not just… kill him?” she knows they can’t - probably - but she’s pretty sure the idea hasn’t been thrown out there yet so it’s worth a shot. 

Killian shakes his head like she expected him to. “If we could, I’d have done it by now. I did once, when I first returned to Neverland after decades away. I ran him through with my sword trying to avenge my brother.” Her hand on his arm tightens without her meaning it to. “He pretended, made a whole show and lay there until I was sure he was dead - and then he started to laugh. Just another game - the first one I played with him even if I didn’t know it. He told me it was the only time he would let me win.”

“We’ll find a way.” 

He smiles at her, small and half-hearted but she believes him. “I’m sure you will.”

***

“Why do we have to do this?” one of the boys - Kyle, she thinks - complains, dropping the wooden sword to his side. It had been so strange and jarring to learn some of the Lost Boys names over the last few days. “ We have nothing to do but wait ,” Killian had said. “Tink has let the Constant know that we’re ready to meet with them and they’ll send word when they’ve decided if they’ll hear us out .” For some reason, the boys had all been like Wendy in her mind, born ‘ somewhere around the 1880s, I think, ’ or Will, who’d come to Neverland during the Blitz, using dreams to escape the nightmares of real life. But this new group of boys weren’t characters out of a book or an old black and white photo. 

“My mom named me after the guy in some robot movie that had just come out,” Kyle mentioned and it was a moment before it clicked. “The Terminator?!” He’d only shrugged. “That might’ve been it.” This boy was her age. He couldn’t have been born more than a couple of years after she was. Another boy’s tattered shirt had a faded image of Lilo and Stitch on it - he didn’t look more than twelve. These boys were just… kids. Regular kids like the ones she grew up with and the ones who lived in Storybrooke or Boston - boys like Henry. And now they were soldiers. 

“We have to do this,” Wendy answers, giving his fake sword a tap with her own so his arm straightens, “because everyone on this ship needs to be ready to defend her when the next raid happens - If you want to live until the next one.” 

“But we already know how to fight,” he whines. “We defeated you every time.” If Wendy’s upset at the casual mention of her crewmates being slaughtered, she doesn’t let it show. “I already know how to sword fight.” 

“Do you now?” Killian calls from the helm before she can answer. 

“Captain…” his first mate starts but he ignores her. He’s an imposing figure, clad in black leather with the metal of his hook gleaming in the sun and the weight of his sword heavy at his hip. As his footsteps echo across the deck as he makes his way over to where the boys had begun their training they all go silent. 

“Now now, Mr. Darling, if the boy thinks he’s beyond our instruction he should have the chance to prove himself.” He stops in front of the new recruit, drawing his sword in a slow, measured movement, the tip an inch from the kid’s nose and Emma panics for just a second that he might cut him down right there. But then he turns to Wendy, “Bosun, get this boy a real blade,” and she realizes he’s had exactly the effect he intended as everyone around him tenses. 

Wendy goes to fetch a weapon, shooting him the kind of eyeroll kids learn to make in front of adults without getting caught - one she knows very well.

“Think you can defeat me, boy?”

To his credit, Kyle straightens his shoulders, taking the offered sword and raising it to the Captain’s, ready for a fight. She thinks she might see the tiniest bit of approval beneath the scorn in Killian’s expression. The boy moves first, swinging at him with all his might as he deflects again and again. Killian’s toying with him - she knows he is. She saw Killian fight Will that first night on the Jolly. His blocks are too slow, letting the kid get within inches of hitting him. He doesn’t make a single attack, his feet unmoving and she’d think it was cruel if she didn’t understand why he was doing it. 

Finally, when the boy starts to sweat, she sees Killian shift, adjusting his stance as he swings at his opponent. The block comes almost too late, only stopped by the way Killian pulls back at the last moment. He does it again, and again, backing the boy across the deck with blow after blow. There’s no flourish to it, no showmanship, just skill and finesse and strength and speed.

The kid starts to panic, the attacks coming too fast and Emma holds back a gasp when Killian’s blade slices across Kyle’s forearm. After that, it’s easy for Killian to twist his blade out of the kid’s shocked hand with his own, his elbow coming up to knock the boy flat on his ass. By the time he looks up, nose bloody, eyes dazed and watery, Killian’s sword is pointed at his chest, his brow arched in a harsh challenge. 

“Please don’t kill me,” the boy says so quietly and so heartbreakingly that she thinks she sees Killian’s face soften just the barest amount before he takes a step back, dropping his sword. 

“Listen, all of you,” he booms, though every eye on the deck is already on him. “You’ve never defeated anyone. Until now you’ve been playing a game and the game has been rigged. And I’m sorry to say, you’re now on the losing team. The only thing that matters from this moment on is staying alive. And the only way to stay alive is being a skilled enough fighter - and knowing how to hold that skill back enough - that Pan will want to fight you again.”

 He lets this hang in the air for a moment, the boys’ faces showing different degrees of confusion and understanding and horror. “So all of you will follow Mr. Darling’s instructions and learn everything you can from him. You’ll fight to defend this ship, yourselves, and each other when the time comes because you’re part of my crew now.” He reaches a hook out to Kyle who sits cradling his nose and heaves the boy to his feet. “And we look after our own.” 

Killian looks at the boy who nods, message received loud and clear, before clapping him on the shoulder. “Scarlet, see that our newest crew member’s wounds are tended to. He put up quite the fight.” 

“Aye, Captain,” Will complies without argument or sarcasm and Killian must be as shocked as she is because he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Darling must have said something to him,” he tells her when Emma joins him, his sword sliding carefully back into its sheath as he watches Wendy continue her lesson. 

“Or maybe you just did.” Killian only looks at her, brow raised in disbelief before she gestures at the sword hanging at his belt. “So, come on, are you going to show me how to use this thing or not?”

His face splits into a shit-eating grin. “Ah, Swan, I’ve dreamed of the day that you’d ask me to show you how to handle my sword.”

***

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Tinkerbell asks. She’d floated onto the ship that night, looking stronger than when Emma had last seen her - the few days with the Constant clearly having done her good. Her wings looked taller, fully unfurled, the crepe paper like skin no longer breakable and frail as they flutter behind her. 

“Is there good news?” Killian sighs, standing from his desk where he’d been looking over maps of the island while Emma asked him questions about them, how each was different based on when it was drawn, what Pan had changed, who he had brought. He seemed unbothered by the fairy magicking his window open and letting herself in. 

“They’ve agreed to meet with you. They haven’t agreed to help,” she clarifies when Killian looks surprised, “but they’ve agreed to hear you out.”

“And the bad news?” 

“They’ll only meet us in Echo Caves.”

Killian lets out a heavy, long suffering sigh, thumb brushing the inner corner of his brow, words dripping with sarcasm. “Wonderful. Did they happen to give a reason why?” 

“Something about making sure you can be trusted - some incident at skull rock?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” he mutters under his breath. 

“Really because the way I heard it -” 

“It’s fine. Tell them we agree to their terms. When do they expect us?”

“First light.” 

Killian nods. “We’ll be there. And Tink,” he adds when she turns to leave. “Thank you.” 

She sneers. “I’m not doing it for you.” And then she’s gone before he can say another word. 

“What’s Echo Caves?” Emma pulls her knees up to her chest where she’s perched on the desk after she’s sure the fairy’s out of earshot and Killian’s sagged back in his seat. 

“Another one of Neverland’s little delights,” he sighs again. “The magic of the cave compels you to share your deepest secret - whether or not you’re even aware of it.” 

“Have you gone before?” she asks. 

“Once.” His hand drifts up without her really noticing, fingers curling around her calf, thumb tracing over her shin and she thinks maybe it wasn’t a pleasant experience. “Pan wanted to test my loyalty.” She rests her chin on her knee, dreading what he may have had to confess to Pan to keep himself alive on this horrible island. He smiles up at her then, a put-on apathy. “Thankfully, I had many terrible deeds in my past to confess to.” He doesn’t give her a chance to say anything before he releases her and stands again - something dropped between them and something else put up. 

“Are you afraid?” 

Killian doesn’t look at her. “Always.” Her heart tightens. She understands - she’d only been here a few weeks and she’s been terrified every moment - apart from her brief experiment with fairy wine - centuries… she can’t imagine. “But not of the Constant. Tiger Lily may hold a grudge but they’ll do whatever’s best for this island, and so will their people. And I’ve no ill-intent towards them or love for Pan.” He looks at her then, pausing. “Are you?”

“Of having to spill my deepest secret to a bunch of strangers? No, why would I possibly be stressed about that?” she smirks half-heartedly. 

“Strangers?” Killian raises a brow, sliding back across the room and resting his hand and hook on the desk on either side of her. “You hurt me, Swan. I thought we were friends - acquaintances at least.” 

She shoves at his chest rolling her eyes and he smirks. “Usually a guy has to buy me dinner before he gets to hear the all sordid details of my past.” Or coffee in an empty theme park where a pretty smile and a well-placed sneak into his past makes her think she’s safe to reveal herself, to trust someone with all of it.

“Hey,” his thumb brushes over her knee as he tries to catch her gaze. “Where’d you go?”

Not anywhere he needs to know about - or anywhere she’d care to revisit. So she smiles at him, lets her foot brush against the side of his calf, teasing, distracting. “Just trying to figure out which of my deepest secrets are gonna come spilling out of me tomorrow.” He doesn’t believe her, his lie detector almost as good as her own, she's realized, but he doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Well you are a mystery, Swan,” he tells her with a half-hearted smirk. 

“Not for much longer, apparently.” 

Something shifts in the way he’s looking at her, sympathy or understanding as he cocks his head. “You know you don’t have to come if -” 

“I’m going.” 

Killian huffs a laugh. “Of course you are. Well if there’s anything you want to get off your chest without an audience, now’s the time.” His eyebrow quirks up in challenge. “Won’t be a secret anymore if you tell me.” She meets it. 

“What? Is one revelation about me not enough for you?”

Something shifts again, something heavier, her skin warm and humming with fear and anticipation as he looks at her the way he had when he’d been curled around her on the floor of the brig. His voice is lower when he speaks. “Perhaps I’d just like to know you, Swan.” 

She casts her eyes to the floor, his gaze too intense - always too intense - before setting the smirk that had fallen from her lips back in place. “You first.” 

“I’m an open book, love. Ask me anything you like.”

She has one question, one that’s been itching at the back of her mind since she’d seen the canvas of scars etched across his skin. “Who were you? Before you were here - before you were ‘Captain Hook’?”

His bravado falters for a moment. “I was many things. Son, brother, slave, sailor, lieutenant, captain, pirate, partner… None for very long.” He gives her another of those showy smirks. “It seems Hook is the only one that stuck.” Her heart breaks a little, so many loves lost and so many injustices done in such a short life. She thinks of the scars that had criss-crossed his back, that she’d asked about so casually then - slave he’d said - and she wishes she could do it over, pay both them and him the reverence they deserve. “What about you?” 

“What about me?”

His hand slides to her wrist, to the laces she’d tied there the first day she’d come back to the sheriff’s office alone. All of his things had been gone. Desk cleared out, jacket taken from the back of his chair, the few things he bothered to keep - a tacky ceramic wolf, a photo of him and some friends she never bothered to ask him about, even the bottle of whiskey he kept in his top drawer - had been ransacked. He had no family that she knew of - no family that could be found at all - and she’d just known that it was Regina. She’d come in and wiped every trace of Graham clean like he never existed - apart from a single pair of boots forgotten by the back door. 

“They belonged to someone I used to know.” 

“Someone you cared for?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she shrugs. “He’s gone now.” 

“It mattered enough for you to keep a piece of him with you.” He fingers the laces again, focusing on them, not making her meet his eyes again. “I know what it is to lose the people that matter most.” 

Emma pulls her hand back, sliding them both behind her under the guise of leaning back on the desk and gives another dismissive shrug even as she can’t make herself look at him. “Yeah, well, when you grow up like I did you learn pretty quickly not to get attached.”

Thankfully, Killian knows how to take a hint, straightening and flashing her an off  grin. “If only we all possessed such a skill, Swan.” Then, pushing away from the desk,  “I best let the others know what awaits us all  tomorrow.” 

Emma swallows, this island has already taken so much from her - her son, her name, her memories - almost - her whole belief system… How much more can it really take? She doesn’t ask - not anymore as she slides into Killian’s bed instead of her own, and he doesn’t say anything as he joins her a few minutes later, just pulls her against him, breath warm and comforting against her cheek as they try to shut themselves off from the cries that ring out on the deck above them. 

*******

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[gotham-daydreams]

Hun you have probably heard this before but take all the time you need and more! Lol. It's your fic, your idea and there is no need to stress on getting it out so fast. You lose nothing if some people ever get bored of waiting, but honestly i know many (including myself) who have waited double digit months for someone to update their fics. Anyway this is just my short way of saying that It's alright to just relax and have fun. Hope this didn't come off too rude or like im making assumptions about you, if you feel no stress, good. 🖤 And even if tumblr ends up lagging due to the lenght of the fic, you could always split it into two like you talked about before. Take it one step at a time, can't wait to find out what happens next!

Nono you didn't come off as rude or anything at all! Thank you so much for your kind words and everything, they mean a lot 💛💛💛

Though I do feel bad for taking so long since I have been working on it for a while, and even if I will prioritize the quality of Part 3 over getting it out as soon as I can, I am still trying to get to a point where I can get it out in a reasonable amount of time for you guys! And also hopefully produce a Part 3 that will make the wait worth it- even if the length doesn't exactly say anything about the quality of the chapter itself.

Which, trust me, I never intended for Part 3 to be as long as it's becoming now 😅, as I said a bit earlier on another ask, some of the moments that were supposed to be "small/short" are, in fact, not what most would consider short at all :']

I'll be honest and admit that back when I started writing Pt. 3 in September, I honestly thought that the length would be somewhere in between Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 (so about maybe 3/5k - 10k words), only for us to be here. Where Pt. 3 might end up being, (funnily enough) almost 3 times the length of Pt. 2- which I suspect to be around 10k words since by the time I reached 10k on Pt. 3, it was just about as long as Pt. 2.

Pt. 2 alone made tumblr lag on my end, so that's why the length of Pt. 3 is making me so nervous, and though I will split it into two parts if I have to- I will try to keep it as one whole part since, again, I do believe that it's better read that way.

Which, I also keep commenting on the length and everything since, well- Pt. 3 isn't done yet. And I can only look on in slight horror as I keep writing, and knowing I'm not even at the ending yet :']

Regardless of all of that, however, I do deeply appreciate all of you who are waiting, and thank you for your patience and time! I know I haven't been the most active or anything, but I do appreciate everyone and all of the support I've been receiving!! Recently I've reached 1k followers- and have been also trying to think of what to do for that, since that's a huge milestone! And I want to properly thank everyone for the support and everything, but still don't have many ideas for that at the moment :']

Still, thank you so much for everything!