#I would say I loved it more the more i thought about it after I finished it

[saymio]

Silent Obsession

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (the front man) x Fem!reader

Summary: your husband was missing, and all you did for days was stay at home crying your eyes out...waiting for your dearest husband to come home. this was until inho had decided to come give you a little visit while you were all alone and vulnerable.

Warning: dead dove: do not eat, noncon, degradation, light bdsm, manipulation, In-ho is obsessed with you, rough sex, mentioned age gap (20 years), cheating (not rlly), there might be more but I'm too lazy to write it.

A/N: not proof read. this takes place during s1. (most/all of the beginning contains junho x reader content)

7.2k Words

...

it was 2015, just a few days ago your boyfriend junho had invited you to meet his family on the day of his brothers birthday. his brother was turning 40 and they were hosting a small party, just a few people... and your boyfriend thought this would be a great time to invite you to meet his mom and brother. he was ecstatic at the thought, he really wanted his family to get to know you since last year he had met yours. and he was really serious about you... but it would be an understatement to say you were nervous. hell, you were scared. you wanted to leave a good impression on his family, this was the man you wanted to marry. if his mom didnt approve of you what could you say? she was wrong? that her opinion didn't matter? these thoughts swarmed your head for hours every day....

junho was driving the two of you from your small shared apartment to his moms place. you were sitting in the passenger seat as you stared out the window of the car, you were shaking... not from the cold but from the anxiousness you were brimming with. your fingers tapped against the interior of the car, your nails making a clicking sound every time they touched the material. "are you cold y/n? I told you itd be cold today..you should've worn a bigger jacket" junho glanced at you for a second before staring back at the road and sighing. he hated when this happened, when youd be so insistent in not 'ruining' your outfit that you wouldn't pay attention to whether you'd be cold or not. this always happens! ..but he always wears a jacket for you. because he knows you'll end up shivering from the cold gusts of wind and he cant stand the thought of you suffering from the freezing temperatures. you let out a small chuckle, it was barely over a whisper but junho heard you loud and clear. "why're you laughing.." he frowned a little, not because he's upset or mad at you but just because you werent taking the situation that seriously. "what if you catch a cold? at least think about me when you dress this way..you know I hate when you're in pain.." the last part of his sentence was soft and quiet, as if he was murmuring to himself..making sure you wouldn't hear him. "stop worrying so much babe...I'm not cold or anything.. just a little jittery, its my first time meeting your family after all." you giggled at his genuine worry for you, he was such a drama queen. making these small actions seem so much more serious then they were..but its something that made you love junho. how kind and protecting he was of the people he cared about. "nervous? you don't have to be nervous y/n...I'm sure they'll love you." junho's right hand made its way to your left hand. holding it tight before giving you a soft gentle smile. his ability to sooth you with just his smile had to be studied, he truly was an angel on earth to you, like he had a halo on his head 24/7. you leaned forward a little and left a quick peck on his cheek, quickly leaning back down to your seat and looking away from him. but at the corner of junhos eyes he could see how red you've gotten...he thought it was adorable. how the two of youve been dating for 2 years but you still got flustered over small kisses. you were so innocent and kind, the exact woman he needed in his life...

but little did junho know, he was right. his family did love you..especially his brother.

you had arrived at his mothers house, .. your nerves were spiking, how should you introduce yourself? what if the cake you made was still raw? what if inho doesn't like his present? these thoughts ran through your head as you two waited for someone to open the door. your finger nails tapping against the box the cake you had made was in. the sound deafening you as you just wanted the damn door to open already. you really just hoped youd make a good impression... after what felt like an eternity the door opened, behind to door revealed the birthday boy himself, Hwang In-ho. junho just shook his hand before you bowed at him slightly before shaking his hand and introducing himself briefly. "happy birthday In-ho, my names y/n" In-ho just nodded coldly at you, if the harsh winds outside didn't freeze you his stares did. he stepped aside, allowing the two of you in. he lead the both of you up the apartment complex stairs, your heels making a loud click sound echo though the staircase with every step you took. after only a bit of walking up stairs you had reached the door to where the party was being hosted.. . . when junho had told you itd be a 'party' you expected a family gathering with like 15 people, but upon arrival you quickly realized..it was truly just him, his brother and mom celebrating inho's birthday today. you were pleasantly surprised, you hated large groups of people..it made you skittish and always super nervous. so just 3 other people being there calmed your nerves down, alot. the apartment was small and cozy, very homey and nice. his mother had made a mini feast with delicious foods and decorated the place with a few balloons and banners. it was a seemingly wholesome sight of a mother doing something nice for her sons special day, it made your heart warm up inside your chest as you took a seat at the table. "hi honey, what's your name?" junho's mother grabbed one of your hands, cupping it with the both of hers. you felt yourself blush and smile, you had barely even been inside yet his mother was being so kind already. her soft gentle voice, and kind soft eyes. it was everything that's junho was. "y/n, what about you miss?" you were trying your best to be as polite as possible, you didn't want to tip her off and cause her to hate you.. but you felt kind of uncomfortable.. inho..he was staring at you alot. and it was like he wasnt trying to hide it, his dark eyes piecing into your soul. as if he were looking for the innocence inside of you... to take it away from you. the entire day just led to you getting more and more uncomfortable. you weren't able to stare into his eyes because you felt if you did he would just jump onto you not giving a shit about his mother and brother being there too. "y/n, what would you say if your favorite thing about junho?" inho spoke, his deep voice sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.. this entire atmosphere..it was odd. but it was like only you caught onto it. you stared at inho before turning to junho...he was blushing. he tried keeping a stoic face but you could tell he was getting flustered before you even spoke. his ears tinted in a light pink an so was his neck. "ah.. well his kindness..I think its the main reason I fell in love...he's very kind and soft spoken to people. at least until they do something wrong..but either way he's an angel." a gentle smile took over your face, you stared at junho and then at inho to continue your sentence..it was obvious you were head over heels for this man.. "he's just a very likable man." inho smiled at you, not speaking a word but it was like his face said them all for you. but they weren't the words you'd expect a caring older brother to say, it was more like a .. 'wow how nice.' but in a sarcastic tone.. his mother on the other hand.. "aww how sweet! young love, its so beautiful." she clasped her hands together before grabbing your forearm and staring up at you with twinkling eyes, it was like she was already envisioning your wedding and family with junho. "promise me you'll take care of my son, okay?"

it was a little past 10pm by now, everyone had eaten a slice of cake and junho's mother adored it. junho was right, his mom did love you. she was already talking about marriage and how she wouldnt be surprised if you made the wedding cake because the one you had brought today was "just too delicious!" you laughed and giggled at her antics, your face flushed in embarrassment. you turned to look at inho, who was staring at you intensely. your happiness almost instantly vanished as you shuffled in your chair. maybe he was upset you hadn't given him his gift yet...that should do it!! maybe he'd stop once you did. "a- inho, I brought you a gift." his eyes widened and it had seemed like he just heard life changing news, maybe he really was just sulking over a present..it was kind of cute. you grabbed your bag from your feet next to you and shuffled around until you found a yellow box, you pushed it towards inho and smiled. your tried your best to give a genuine, heartfelt smile even though you felt uncomfortable with all his glances and stares. he smiled at you, this time it seemed a little less fake...but still not genuine. he opened the box, it was a watch. a very beautiful one. it was shimmering under the dinning room light, a light white silver with simple but detailed engravings on the band of the watch. it was beautiful and it definitely wasn't the cheapest, you don't remember how much it was exactly since you had bought it the same day junho had told you about his brothers birthday..but you knew it was enough to make you wince at the receipt. "I left the receipt folded under the cloth Incase it isn't to your li-" you were cut off by inhos voice, it was calm, not as cold as it was before..it was rather soothing even.. "no. its perfect." he put the watch on, adjusting it so it fit his wrist perfectly. you felt your lips creep into a wide smile, you were so glad this day was going perfectly. "wow, that's such a pretty watch! it must've costed you a lot." their mother interrupted the two of you, staring at the watch that sat on inhos wrist and then at you. "inho, say thank you! be polite." she hit the back of his head harshly, as if she were scolding a little kid... you laughed at the scene, mothers truly see their children as their babies forever. "no- its okay miss don't wo-" it seemed like today was full of interruptions and cut offs as inho did just it again. "thank you y/n, I appreciate it a lot." his face was blank again, no readable expression was there.. but based off his passed reactions..you felt he was being sincere. . . . "thank you miss, thank you inho." you bowed at the both of them while you stood at the front door with junho, showing your gratitude for their kindness and patience with you and your boyfriend. "of course honey, please come back any time you want." junho's mother grabbed your hand one more time, inho nodded along with her. he wasn't a man of many words but it seemed his scary demeanor had vanished. maybe it was never even there and you were just nervous..either way you were glad you didn't leave the house with a weird feeling about your boyfriends brother. juho's mother then shoo'd the two of you away, telling you it was late and you shouldn't stay up so late at such a young age... you felt happy. a warm feeling sat in your heart and stomach, it was like you had just found your second family.

time skip (5 years)

there you sat in the police station, its been days since youve last seen your husband. you were sobbing into the palm of your hands, the salty liquid dripped onto your long dress as you drained ever drop of water from your body. you were terrified. what happened to him?? where was he?? what had he gotten into? you were devastated to say the least, you explained with a shaky and quaky voice that your husband had just told you he was off to investigate his brothers vanishment and would be back by the night..like always! so when you woke up and he wasn't there you just felt dread. you texted him and texted him all day to no response. when he didn't come back for the second day you reported him missing. you reported this story to the police about 9 times already, everyday since you reported him missing you came to the police station for any clues or help..an obviously everyday they told you the same thing...that they had nothing. the only reason they didn't push you off to the side when you came in was well..because your husband worked for them. he was a police officer under them, it'd feel disrespectful to you and junho if they just told you to give up hope on finding your husband. maybe you'd stop after another week or two..you'd realize whatever fate inho had found was the same junho ended to aswell... and not only that but you were pretty, kind and in obvious distress over your husband. they'd feel like they just kicked a sick puppy in the stomach if they told you to go away. so every day, at 8am you come in. usually in a pretty sundress but your state of mind isn't as pretty. your eye bags were prominent and you seemed to constantly be in a state of dissociation.... "you promise there's nothing? please double check! please..I need my husband back. you don't understand" your words were exasperated and rushed, you wanted answers, your husband, closure, anything! your breaths were getting heavy as you reached your delicate hand to the tissue box on the desk infront of you. you felt yourself breaking down, more and more, every. day. the police officer let out a breathy sigh, he was trying his very best to not tell you off. to tell you to go back to your home and cry there or something. to stop wasting his time every single fucking day.. but he couldn't. and he wouldn't. not when your state was some of the worst he's seen in his years of being an officer. "listen ma'am, there seems to be a dead end a-" you slammed your hand onto the table, one still holding the now damp tissue as you started to cry harder. you shook your head violently, indicating a very obvious no...or in this case obvious denial. "no. there..there isn't a dead end. he's alive and he needs your help!! please..please keep searching i-i'll.." you started to dig into your purse, the same one junho had gifted you for your 5th anniversary not long before this whole ordeal. when you felt what you were looking for you snatched it out your bag, like it was grabbing it, stealing it from your grasp. "h-here..d-dont stop searching please. I'll give you this..p-please.." in between words you started to cry more, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping off your skin. your head was lowered and you were looking at your lap. you didn't want to stop looking for him. you wouldn't stop until you knew he was safe. "ma'am...you don't have to give me money for doing my job." he slid the stack of money that you had taken from your purse back to you and shook his head in disapproval. "listen.. sigh we're trying our best okay? we arent just laying around doing nothing, he was our coworker and we want to find him as much as you do.." he looked away from your depressing state, you were catching your breath and shaking, your fists were curled into balls. it was clear, even though he was an officer that he didn't want to find junho nearly as much as you did..he didn't think it would even be possible to. "just..take a break. you're overwhelming yourself and it isn't good for you. junho is strong and you know this, so just believe in him and his ability to live..."

the officer opened a drawer that was next to his seat, it was a little pile of candies.. he grabbed a handful and handed you a few. with a shaky hand you took the candies, your eyes were red and puffy. it was painfully obvious that you had just broken down in tears. you didnt want to speak but it was obvious by the way you acted, that all you wanted right now was for your husband to come back into your embrace. "if you want I can step out and let you calm down." the officer stares at you, awaiting the answer that would leave your lips. "no..its okay.. i-...whatever. thank you, I will take a break to calm down and compose myself. please have a good day." you mumbled the first few words, like a scared child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar and is now making up an excuse. you let out a loud sigh before you stood up from your chair, rubbing your tired, sore eyes before fixing your hair and grabbing your bag. you turned around right as you were in front of the office door, you bowed at the officer to show your gratitude as you proceeded to touch the cold metal handle of the door and creaked it open. with a click of the door closing you were walking away from the room you had just broken down in.

there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed you and your husband shared. it felt cold every time you sunk your body into the soft mattress..cold and empty. you weren't used to this, you were used to your husband coming home from work and giving you a kiss. slipping into the soft blankets together as you worked as heaters for each other's bodies. you didn't like this. you didn't want this. you flopped your upper torso onto the bed, causing it to make a squeaking sound to the sudden pressure. your legs were dangling off the side of the bed as you stared up into the ceiling. the world around you felt hazy, like everything that surrounded your body was just an empty void of nothingness. the world was meaningless without junho. you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier...until they had finally closed shut.

knock... knock... knock you jolted up from your bed, who was here at this time? it's like 2am... you stared at the closed bedroom door, thinking about if it was a good idea to open the doorm. you're a young woman alone at her house at 2am...what if it was a sex trafficker trying to kidnap and rape you!!?? knock... knock... knock the loud but slow knocks echoed throughout the house, the knocks took a 3 second pause inbetween..it was so creepy.. it made your skin crawl.. bu...what if...what if the police have clues about junho and came to talk to you about it they heard of it!! or..what if junho had finally come home..... these thoughts rand through your head, you were scared of what might be behind of that door. but not scared enough to not open it. you slowly got up from your bed, making it squeak under the pressure of your body. your soft slippers made a swooshing sound against the wooden floors as you shuffled your way to the front door... knock... knock.... knock there it was...the knocking. you couldn't help but feel this dry lump from in your throat, but you had to do it...you needed to make sure... if it was some stranger you'd just slam the door on them and go and hide in a closet or something.. your swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your palm on the cold metal of the handle, unlocking it with a small click and turning it clockwise so that it opened the door.. you didn't open it alot, just enough to see who was on the other side. your eyes stared at the dark soulless eyes In front of you, it was a random man. you had no idea why he was here or what he wanted..but he looked very familiar..maybe he was an off duty cop that just wanted to check up on you..? "h-hello..? how can I help you..." your voice was small and quiet, barely above a whisper as you used the door as some kind of shield from the strange man. "yes. you can." you stared up at the man with confused puppy dog eyes, what did that even mean?? you furrowed your eyebrows and squinted your eyes as you stared at him..you were about to close the door on the strange man until something clicked inside of you. you recognized where he was from.. "inho?! w-what? what are you.." your judgmental facial expression quickly changed into one of shook and worry, was he here to see junho? how would you break the news that his brother was now missing too?? you raised your small hand to your mouth, covering it in shock..you didn't even know what to do....what should you say..? your eyes started to water and tear up, you were reminded of the harsh reality junho was in..he was seriously missing and now the person he went missing looking for was In front of you...it seemed like everyone was just against you. mocking the disappearance of your husband. "what...are you doing here? a-are you here for junho..he's.." you let out choked sighs after every other word, taking your hands from your mouth to your entire face. you were a crying mess In front of a man you barely knew, it was so embarrassing. you were so pathetic and sad. everyone's been telling you to just get over it but here you are, sobbing for what felt like the 6th time today. a loud sigh snapped you out of your saddened state,, but...it wasn't a sigh of disapproval or frustration...it was like a sigh of...desire. like he was getting off to the sight your sobbing, scared and fragile body. "you're doing this on purpose, you have to be." you stared up at inho with confusion. you eyebrow was raised, as if asking him what the fuck he meant by that. before you could even mutter a word he pushed you, really harshly. you went flying back into your home, head hitting the hard wood. you felt yourself getting dizzier and dizzier for a few seconds...you felt like you couldn't move, speak or even see anymore...your head was spinning and alarms were ringing from the inside of your head..until you were passed out.

you woke up... you were sitting in the middle of the dining room, it seemed like someone had moved the table and other chairs out the way as it was literally only you. you and the chair you were sitting on. the room was barely lit up, you could only see some of your surroundings due to the singular light that was on. the ligh that bulb was right on top of you..it felt like you were about to get interrogated for murder,,you were terrified. for you wanted to scream, cry and just run away from what was happening. but you couldn't. your ankles were tied onto the legs of the chair. your arms and torso were bounded to the chair itself with a thick rope., it was digging into your skin hard..it hurt. alot.. you wanted to squirm around and get yourself free but you knew you'd just end up knocking the chair down and you'd be stuck in an awkward position..you tried to start screaming but you couldnt, you were confused..it was like your mouth was glued shut.....your eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone, anything to help you. it took you a second for you to put the pieces together but.. once you did you realized.. your mouth was duck taped shut. you didn't know what to do, you were overwhelmed and you just wanted your husband back to you. you closed your eyes shut as warm salty tears fell from your eyes. your eyes just couldn't catch a break, could they? they were tired and sore. even when you werent sleepy it hurt to open and close the..a result of crying for days.. you just wanted to feel happiness again. but clearly that wasn't going to happen soon. was your fate going to be the same as your husbands? were his kidnappers after you to sew your mouth shut?? you didn't want to die..at least not because you got closure.. "you shouldn't cry Infront of me. its a bad idea. I have a thing for little girls that look pretty when they cry." your head jumped forward, looking at the figure that had stepped out the shadows surrounding you.. your eyes widened, remembering that inho had been the one that knocked you over and caused you to black out. the same man that had gone missing 5 years ago, the same man that your brother went missing looking for.. what was he doing here? was he here to kill you? to keep you silent? to assault you? thoughts rand through your head as he took large, slow steps towards you. as if he was mocking your frightened state. he reached his right hand out towards you, your eyes landed on the silver watch he was wearing. it seemed so similar to the one you had gifted all those years ago..but no way he would still be wearing it, right? before you could even process another thought his hand gripped at your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to literally stare up at him. the roughness of his grip made you wince in pain..he didn't come here with intentions of being nice and if you didn't realize that person you definitely realized that now. you tried to scream and kick your feet, you knew the tape and rope would stop your attempts and make them useless but you still tried. your screams just came out as diluted, muffled noises. the tape had stopped you from making any loud noises... the chair under your only shook a little but it wasn't enough to lighten the grip inho had on your hair. his dark, soulless eyes stared you down. they were like black orbs, nothing behind them. he grinned at you, like he was watching a cartoon and a character had did something funny. he was laughing at you. he thought this was funny. "you look so stupid, you do know that the tape will just silence all your screams, right? or are you too young and dumb to understand that yet." he tilted his head at you and gave you a mockingly confused expression. he was having the time of his fucking life while you were here, scared for your damn life. you glared at him, trying to intimidate him..doing anything to scare him...trying to find the little humanity in him that feels sympathy was clearly never going to happen. so you had to try another approach..even if it wasn't going to work either... and your suspicions were right ..

he just smiled at you, another mockingly fake smile... he released his hand from the grip he had on your hair and pinched your cheeks, just as roughly as he did with your hair. leaving a red mark when he let go... it was like he was treating you like you were a pouting child, stomping your feet because your mom didn't let you buy the comically huge lollipop you really wanted. "youre not scary sweetie." the pet name made you want to throw up in your mouth. he knew well you were his sister in law but here he was, calling you pet names with his disgusting voice. " you know..ive had my eyes on you since i met you...you're just so gorgeous..and delicate." he took a short but slow walk around u and stopped to stand behind you. his cold hands reached to your face and covered your eyes. you couldn't see anything but you knew he was leaned up in your ear...you could feel his hot breath making you unnervingly uncomfortable. "I just wanna ruin you." your breathe hitched in your throat, he was going to rape you. you know it, you had to fight back, you had to. you couldn't let a man that wasn't your husband put his dick inside you. inho took his cold hands away from your face and walked back in front of you. you glanced down at his crotch and...there was a bulge...he was getting off to your scared shape. he truly was an emotionless sadist.. he held up his index finger to your covered lips. "shh. make any noise and I wont think twice about killing you and your husband." your eyes widened as you heard the last part...that meant your husband was alive..and he knew where he was. you nodded slowly, complying with his words. he ripped the piece of tape off your mouth, causing you to let out a yelp in pain. you stared at him with a frightened face, you realized you had just made a loud sound...you didn't want to die you didn't..you didn't want your husband to die! "I said. be quiet." the truth with inho was, he had already killed your husband..at least he thought he did. only a day ago did he shot junho, causing him to fall off the side of the island...he probably drowned and is floating lifeless in the sea right now.. but you didnt need to know that...and it was clear you weren't even aware. your mouth was shut and you tried to silence your heavy rapid breathing....you really did love your husband..he wanted to steal that love from junhos grasp. he leaned down, his face was now perfectly aligned with yours... you wanted to say something, you wanted to scream and cry but if you did he'd kill you...you knew he would... his left hand started to rub your cheek, it was gentle and warm but it just made you hate it even more...his fake kindness. you hated it. his lips connected with yours, at first it seemed like he was trying to be gentle but it was obvious he had quickly gotten bored of it before he got rough. your teeth were clashing with each other as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. exploring every inch of it before he started to nip at your lips...he was aggressive and messy. everything junho wasn't.. this wasn't the kind of kiss you wanted or craved. you felt like your eyes were sewn shut the way you refused to open them, you didn't want to stare at inho. you just wanted this to end..maybe once it did you'd finally have your husband back. after what felt like hours of making out he has finally took his chapped lips off of your soft ones. a string of saliva connected the two of you as he caught his breath. you opened your eyes to stare at him, they were watery..your tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you caught your breath. to inho you eyes were like glass marbles...and he wanted to shatter them into pieces. you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. if you were calm it wouldn't be as bad. you read this inside your mind over and over and over again. you just prayed he would use you quickly and then leave... "you know, that day..the day where junho has brought you to our mothers house for my birthday.." his eyes wandered away from you, as if he were recalling the day in exact detail, scene by scene...

his eyes snapped back to yours, holding intense eye contact until he continued his sentence... "when I asked you what you loved most about junho you told me you loved his kindness. you said he was a soft person..an angel in your eyes." he crouched down, staring at you with intense eyes. his sharp features were like daggers, stabbing one by one into your heart. "you told me you loved something about him that I lacked. I'm not a kind person. and right now..you probably think I'm the devil instead of an angel like my brother.." he smiled at you, it was a cold, fake smile. if you touched his face right now it'd probably be ice cold.. "thats how I knew someone like you would never willingly be with a man like me.. but it's okay, I'll just force myself onto you." you started to cry, the salty liquid streamed down from your cheeks to your chin. your eyes were red and puffy, you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to be with this man, you didn't want this. inhos left head reached to your face, this time he squeezed the both of your cheeks so that your lips were puckered at him. "got it, princess?" he leaned in to kiss you again, this time he went aggressive right away. forcing his tongue into your mouth, some of your tears dripped onto his mouth. letting him taste the saltiness of your sadness. and it was delicious.

there you sat, he had freed your ankles from the restraints on the chair. nipping and licking at your clit. you hated this, you couldn't stop crying. you felt disgusting, a man that wasn't your husband was licking and eating your pussy out. why would you let this happen? at this point death felt better than breaking your husbands heart. you lets out cries and soft no's as he slurped your juices. you hated that it felt good, you hated that he knew what he was doing. your moans and mewls filled the room, followed with wet sloppy sounds of spit and cum mixed together. he's been eating you out for what felt like hours, you've probably came like 3 times already. you were getting tired..your legs were shaky, trying to close in on themselves but inhos arms kept them wide open for you. "p-please stop. I don't like thi-this...ah...please..let me go already..please.." you were begging with him, your eyes were shaky, your face was flushed and your lips were wet from his aggressive kisses. god. the scene of you begging for him to stop as he abused your clit was one he wanted engraved in his mind forever. he let go of your pussy with a loud pop, your juices and his spit was all over his mouth and chin. he looked like a wild animal that had just eaten his prey alive. with his sleeve he wiped off the liquid on his face. 'ruining' his all black jacket. "you want me to stop but your cum is all over my face and lips. you want me to stop but you keep moaning. just admit you're a slut for me." you close your eyes shut, shaking your head viciously, you don't want him. you don't want this. you just want your husband to be safe. that's all you want... inho scoffs at you, as if you were lying to his face. maybe he truly did believe you wanted this..that you wanted him.. but you knew it wasn't true, you knew that you loved junho and that you werent fighting back back because you just wanted him back.. you'd break down in tears in his arms once he comes home, you'll explain it when he's home. he'd understand..right..? you were lost in your thoughts, but reality snapped you out of them.. 2 long fingers were inside of your core, curling and pumping in and out... it hurt so much. it was nothing like you were used to, slow paced and gentle..no..it was fast and rough. you let out a cry, you were in so much pain it made you want to go insane. the rope that was still tied around your arms and waist dug into your skin, burning you as you struggled under the restraints..trying to find a way out. it felt like inhos was trying to split you in half, the rough skin on his finger pads only made it worse. but ofcoourse it had to feel good, because he knew what he was doing. even if it was messy, even if it was rough, even if you didn't like it..he knew how to make a woman feel good past all the pain. he tilted his head up towards you, his dark almond eyes burned holes into yours. "you gonna cum?" instead of a question, it felt like a demand. demanding you to answer yes, scaring you into saying yes.. but you didn't say yes, you said no. you shook your head and mouthed no to inho, not daring to say it out loud..and it obviously made him upset. he sneered at you before grabbing is free hand and pinching your clit before speeding the pace of his fingers. this was something you've never felt before, the pleasure finally overshadowed the pain and it felt like he had just forced your orgasm out of your body. your cum coated his digits, leaving a slightly milky white color on them.. you were catching your breath, it was hard to breath..the pain, anxiety and fear were catching up to you...you felt your throat slowly closing on you..you felt like you couldn't even breath enough air to supply your lungs are this point.. you were so caught up in your own world that you didn't even realize how he was pressing against the bulge that was begging to be freed from his trousers..he stared at you with bleak eyes, there was nothing behind them...nothing but desire and want..you were scared witless of what he would do to your poor body next. and whatever it was, you didn't want it

the bed was creaking under you, the same bed you and juho slept in everyday... you legs were pressing onto your stomach, the skin rubbing against each other. inho was slamming his cock in and out of you.. touching spots you didn't even know could be reached before this. you felt horrible for feeling so good. but you didn't want this. you were a crying moaning mess. your nails were digging onto his hands, the ones that were pressing you down. you were begging for him to stop, you didn't want this..you felt like you were being forced into this. with the life of your husband on the line.. inho let go of your left thigh and reached to your neck. his freezing hand sending shivers through your body as he started to choke you whilst pounding in and out of you..destroying your gummy insides. he lowered his face to you and scoffed, you looked so pathetic. crying and sobbing acting like you weren't enjoying his fat cock. why wouldn't you just admit you liked it for once? "acting like youre the victim while my cocks deep inside of you. is this all women do? complain about everything..just admit you like it. I wont tell." you felt so degrading. you were getting fucked by a man you barely knew on the bed your missing husband and you slept on every day at somepoint. using his life against you and now he's blaming you? was it really your fault? could you have just turned him away and still gotten junho back? was that an option that you weren't told about? you started crying, your weak arms pushing against his chest with no avail. you just wanted it to stop, you were in pain and now you're being told its your fault you're in this situation. you can never win. you began to sob louder, begging him to let you go, louder and louder until you were wailing like a stupid baby. your hand grasped at the tight grip he had on your neck, then to his chest to push him away again. "shut up." he snarled before taking off his hand from your neck, he had left a bruise from how hard he was gripping...with the same hand he harshly slapped you. shutting your cries up quickly. a red spot started to quickly form, your skin was now irritated in what felt like every place on your body.. "you're such a slut. taking the dick of a man 20 years older than you on the very bed your husband would sleep on. do you not feel ashamed? hmm?" he hummed at you, waiting for your reply. but you didn't even mutter a word, nothing. you decided you'll just take it with no noise, if you stay quiet up maybe it'll end faster?.. it should...shouldn't it..you were trying to comfort yourself in your head.. "you can keep trying to tell yourself otherwise but youre nothing but a dirty cheater. taking dick like a good girl. this probably isn't the first time youve done this huh?" he laughed at your now soulless face, he was right when he said he wanted to ruin you. he was doing that, and it got worse with every second that passed. "ffuck I'm close. you better cum or else I'll js' keep on using you until you do." you started to tear up, your clit twitching and your hole began to clench around his cock. you felt good, but terrible at the same time..you doubted he was cumming because he thought you felt good though, it was a factor but it was probably your shape that made him so horny. you were sad, in pain...tired... he got off to it so bad. you let out quiet pants and moans, indicating to inho that you were close too. he started to get sloppy, his pace getting even faster as the wet slapping sound of skin filled your ears to the brim. you felt your clit pulsating, begging for release...once you came you'd be free..you'd be...you'd be....be.. "a-aa.. fuck fuck fuckfck fuck! ouOUGH~" you let out loud, filthy moans. probably for the first time that night, instead of your cries it was your moans and whimpers that the room was now brimming with. inho loved the sound of your noises, your cries, moans, everything. God it made him so horny...once he felt you cum all over his cock he let his go through as well. fucking his orgasm into you deeper, and deeper with a loud groan..

he kept moving slowly, fucking you through your orgasm as your breathes calmed down.. "I want to ruin every inch of kindness and hope for humanity you have left in you. you're so perfect. perfect to corrupt.." his hand raised to your cheek and started to rub it 'lovingly'. you had a feeling he wasn't going to let you go like he had told you he would.

...

Another not: I FINALLY FINISHED YAY took me like all day again but ....yay!! I hope u guys liked it. I'm pretty proud of it but idk if its ooc or not... but SMASH THE LIKE BUTTON N HIT SUBSCRIBE 4 MORE..!!!!!!!

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm XI

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: An old face watches a match

She wasn't as young as she once was.

Teaching hadn't originally been her first choice as a job but after finishing school and spending a few years bored senseless as a receptionist, at age twenty-five, she'd made the change to teaching children in their first year of school.

Now, twenty-five years later, she was getting older and her students seemed to be just as wild and excitable as they always had been.

This school trip hadn't exactly been planned by the school, not fully anyway but a generous donation from who knows where had her and a few other teachers taking a three classes of wiggling and excited five year olds to a home match for the Barcelona women's team.

"Let's get to our seats now," She says, trying to get everyone in her class seated and happy but it's like trying to fight a group of wet cats - a losing battle.

"Miss, he pushed me!"

"Miss, I want to sit with my friends!"

"Miss, I can't find my bracelet!"

"Miss, my Mami gave me spending money!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

She sighs to herself, rattling off instructions in a way that only a practiced teacher could.

"Lucas, stop pushing people. We use our nice hands with people. Isabella, you can sit next to your friends if there's space. Ana, your bracelet got put into your bag. Pedro, spending money can be used at half time. Now, everyone needs to sit down or else they won't start the match!"

It takes a little while to get all the kids settled and she briefly thinks about how this would be a hell of a lot easier if the school had more people who could chaperone.

It's a fleeting thought because she knows she can't do anything about it now but still, it would be nice.

Nice like it is now to watch one of her old students walk out as one of the most well known footballers not only in Spain but the world as well.

Alexia Putellas, the captain of Barcelona, leads her team out - head held high and back straight. A far cry from the little girl that used to slump in her seat in class and cry when someone took her ball at breaktime.

There weren't many students that she remembered so well - a handful that have ended up in politics, one that somehow ended up at the UN and one whose arrest made national news.

But Alexia was one of the good ones, helpful and polite most of the time.

She can remember though, with startlingly clarity the second day of classes.

It had been her second day as a teacher ever and she'd been supervising the playground at lunch when Alexia had appeared and dragged her off.

She'd dragged her all the way to the slide where you'd been waiting.

"You have to marry us, Miss," Alexia had said, eyes wide and incredibly earnest," We want to get married."

"Er..."

"You have to, miss," You'd joined in," Because we're in love and my Papa always said that people in love get married."

She'd been speechless then but still done as you and Alexia said, a little charmed by those two little girls begging to be married under the slide.

Alexia was easy to follow now, her exploits known throughout the country on and off the pitch. You'd faded though and your old teacher wasn't quite sure where you'd ended up.

Likely something successful and important.

Even as a little girl, you'd had a good work ethic. Work before play, always, was something you'd abided by.

She could see you as something important now. Your parents were doctors, she's pretty sure, so maybe you followed in their footsteps.

It would suit you, she thinks as she watches Alexia slam the ball into the net for a third time today.

Barcelona wins.

But that's entirely to be expected.

What isn't expected though, is for the staff from the team to invite the classes down onto the pitch to meet the players.

"Carlos, don't run! Mia, don't yell over someone! Lucas, again! Stop pushing people! Everyone will get a turn!"

"Some things never change then."

She turns with a smile. "Alexia."

"Hi, Miss."

"You don't have to call me that anymore."

Alexia's brow wrinkles. "What else would I call you? You've always been my teacher."

"You're an adult now, Alexia. You don't have to call me that anymore if you don't want to."

"But I do. Is that alright?"

"That's okay. So long as you want to."

Alexia beams, the same big smile she had as a five year old when she would come to the desk with a picture she drew of herself in the Barcelona kit.

It's still strange to see that exact image in real life.

"I'd like to introduce you to one of my daughters. This is Maya."

"She's beautiful."

"Mi Amor is just changing our other daughter. They'll be out in a minute."

"It's nice to see that you're doing so well. A good job. A nice family."

"We have dogs too! And my wife's old cat! She built me a house, you know? My wife, that is. Not her cat."

It's nice to see that Alexia's word vomit from her childhood hadn't changed much either. She was so stoic and quiet most of the time but any topic that drew her interest could be (and would be) talked about for hours at a time.

"That's nice to hear, Alexia."

"And we bought a villa in Greece for our next holiday! And I bought her this nice matching bracelet and necklace set! But! You can't tell her because it's going to be a surprise!"

"A special occasion?"

Alexia looks affronted at the idea. "I don't need a special occasion to show my wife how much I love her! Just my love!" She turns, glancing over her shoulder and her whole face lights up. "Oh! Amor, you're back! Look, Miss Rivera is here!"

Miss Rivera looks over to the tunnel where you have emerged from, a babbling baby on your hip and a rock of a ring on your hand.

"Oh, hi, Miss!"

She sighs. "I told Alexia that you two don't need to call me that anymore."

You frown. "But you've always been our teacher. What else would we call you?"

"Miss, this is our new baby Elena." Alexia puffs out her chest proudly. "My wife gave birth to her. Doesn't she look good for giving birth a few months ago?"

You slap her on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to where you just slapped. "Don't listen to her, Miss. She'll take any excuse to talk about it."

Alexia nods solemnly. "It was very scary because there were complications but she's doing so well now. Both Elena and my wife. Right, Amor? She's a doctor, you know. Very successful."

Again, Alexia seems to preen like a peacock as if you being so successful and so smart brought her such pride.

"You've both been very successful," Miss Rivera says," I'm so proud. A long way from that marriage under the slide, huh?"

You grin, intertwining your fingers with Alexia's.

"But still married."

[leahwllmsn]

tell me I'm the number one girl in your eyes

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 2.5k

You thought that Alexia was the only person in the world who could never hurt you.

You thought about a lot of things. About how Alexia was going to be the one to propose. How your wedding was going to be an intimate one in your and Alexia’s hometown, by the vineyard. How you would have a maximum of two children, no doubt one of which was going to follow in Alexia’s footsteps.

Your life with Alexia was set. It was predictable, really. From the moment you met her back in Mollet del Vallès when you were children, to your first kiss in her backyard, to the day you moved to the city together.

Childhood best friends who fell in love along the way—it couldn’t get anymore perfect than that. Your families were neighbours, it was practically one big family. Everyone was looking forward to your wedding, and by everyone that included you too.

You had been dating for fifteen years (well, you were on and off at some point, but that didn’t count), so it wasn’t far-fetched that you were expecting a proposal soon. You and Alexia talked about getting married, it wasn’t a new subject for the two of you.

The only problem was that the proposal wasn’t coming and for the first time ever, you had a feeling that it wasn’t going to come. Ever.

You couldn’t pinpoint when Alexia changed, when Alexia stopped buying you flowers just because and when the conversations between you felt forced. Maybe it was after Alexia went back defeated from the Olympics. Or maybe it was after Barcelona won the Champions League and Alexia was everywhere but your home.

The distance between you grew and grew until you were left to beg for Alexia’s attention as if you were another fan and not her girlfriend, the person Alexia claimed she loved more than anything.

“I have meetings with investors tonight, for Eleven.” Alexia’s voice broke the silence in your apartment. “Might go on until late.”

“Okay,” was all you could say.

Another excuse, you figured. Another reason to avoid coming home to you. It had been going on for some time. You couldn’t remember the last time you went to bed at the same time anymore. 

Alexia’s figure appeared in the kitchen, she went straight to the fridge and took out her box of orange juice. Gone were the arms around your waist, the gentle kisses to your neck as you read the morning news. Her laughter would ring around the space as she claimed “only old people read newspapers these days, amor!”

“Are we still on for tomorrow though?” You hated that your voice was hopeful. Too hopeful.

Alexia finally looked at you, her brows furrowed. You weren’t surprised anymore that she’d forgotten. It was laughable at this point because it seemed that you were the only one still present in this relationship.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Dinner.” You tried to act nonchalant about it, as if it didn’t hurt that your own girlfriend forgot about your birthday.

Alexia stared at you for a few seconds, then nodded. “Of course. You know I finish training at four. Dinner is at seven, right?”

“Six.” And I thought you have a day off tomorrow, you wanted to argue. But you kept your mouth shut and let it go. 

Alexia finished her orange juice and grabbed her bag, stepping close to you to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

And just like that she was gone.

“I love you too.” You whispered to the empty apartment. It felt humiliating at times, to be the only one left in a relationship.

You wondered if Alexia still loved you. You couldn’t remember the last time she said those three words to you. You had a feeling that she stopped, that must be why she never said it anymore.

You wanted to confront her about it, to ask her why you weren’t worth her time anymore, but you didn’t think you were ready to face the fallout. You would be devastated when Alexia decided it was time to leave you. It wasn’t an if, but a when, because you knew it was inevitable. It could be tomorrow, or in a few weeks or even months.

Selfishly, you wanted to keep Alexia to yourself a little bit longer. Even though Alexia didn’t feel like yours anymore. 

You could pretend that you didn’t die every time Alexia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. You could pretend that it was fine that Alexia never held your hand as you walked through the streets of Barcelona anymore.

You could pretend that Alexia still loved you, and that you were still the greatest thing the universe had ever given her—her words, a few years ago.

Tomorrow, you knew Alexia would go through her day as if it was just another regular day. If you were lucky, she’d remember that it was your birthday. If you were extra lucky, she’d even give you flowers.

Above everything though, you just hoped that she would show up to dinner.

You didn’t think you had any fight left in you if she didn’t.

—

The sun was shining against your face the moment you opened your eyes. Out of habit, your hands reached out to the other side. You couldn’t help the disappointed sigh that left your lips when you were met with empty sheets. You relished in the mornings when Alexia wasn’t awake and you could hold her, even though you had to pretend to be asleep as she gently lifted your hand and slipped out of bed when she woke. You missed when she would turn around and peppered your face with kisses to wake you up. She loved being the first thing you see in the morning.

Usually on your birthday, Alexia would treat you to breakfast in bed. It was tradition, one that she started ever since the two of you moved to Barcelona about a decade ago.

For a brief second, you had a dangerous glimmer of hope that Alexia was just in the kitchen. But with how quiet your apartment felt, you knew she left.

Alexia forgot. Or maybe she remembered, but she didn’t care anymore. You didn’t know which one was worse.

With a sigh and an ache so deep in your chest, you got ready for the day. You went through your usual routine: shower, breakfast, tidying any mess around your apartment that was out of place. 

It wasn’t until an hour later that the doorbell rang. A part of you hoped that it was Alexia, but the thought disappeared as fast. Your girlfriend wouldn’t need to knock on her own door.

It was a delivery man. Surprisingly, with flowers in his arms. Your heart leaped to the faint hope that they were from Alexia.

“Y/N?”

“That’s me.”

“Must be a special day,” he gave a kind smile, handing the flowers over to you. “Delivery for you from… Alba.”

The tinge of disappointment couldn’t help but creep into your chest. Still, you gave him the best smile you could muster and thanked him.

Alba remembered your birthday. Scrolling through your phone, you saw more people who remembered it was your birthday, even people you weren’t that close with.

It was radio silence from the person who mattered the most to you though.

Sitting alone on your sofa, you realized that you had nothing to do. You cleared your schedule out, and Alexia would usually take the lead. It was tradition to spend your birthdays just the two of you.

You dragged yourself to Mercadona, wanting to buy yourself a small cake and some candles. Before blowing the candles out, you wished for the impossible; birthday wishes were supposed to be powerful, weren’t they?

I wish things go back to the way they were before

Most importantly… I wish my girlfriend still wants me

—

You arrived at your favorite restaurant at exactly six o’clock. You ordered a bottle of wine and finished two glasses when thirty minutes had passed and your girlfriend was still nowhere to be seen.

The need to cry was overwhelming, you felt the tears pooling in your eyes already, waiting for the right time to fall. But you swallowed the ache and forced yourself to think of something happy, because crying whilst being alone at a table clearly meant for two was pathetic.

Your texts and calls went unanswered. An hour in and your last resort was to call Mapi and ask her if she’d seen or heard from Alexia.

“¡Hola, cumpleañera!”

“Maps, hey,” you tried to keep your voice steady, but they were futile. You were truly going to sound pathetic with your question. “Have you… Is Ale with you?”

“Qué? Alexia? Is she not with you?” Mapi sounded concerned. She sounded like she was ready to fight her best friend for you. The fact brought a slight smile to your face.

“No,” you took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe this was how your relationship had come to be. “She’s supposed to be here an hour ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, chica. She left a few hours ago, I don’t know where she went.”

“That’s okay.” You stared at your empty glass and contemplated on whether you should pour yourself another. You’d finish the whole bottle by yourself at this rate.

“Do you… do you want me and Ingrid to come over?”

The offer was sweet, your heart swell at the reinforcement that there were still people who cared about you. But you didn’t think you could go through conversations without breaking down.

So you politely declined Mapi’s offer and poured yourself another glass of wine. You were finishing this bottle, you decided.

It was a strange feeling. To feel abandoned. Alexia had never made you feel that way before.

Alexia was your safe space. She made you feel loved and made you feel that you mattered.

That Alexia felt like a lifetime ago, like she belonged to another, better version of you—one worthy of her time and effort.

—

The apartment was dark when you got home, but you knew Alexia was here. Her car keys were on the hook, and the shoes she wore earlier were haphazardly placed by the front door.

“Ale?” You let out a wince as you took off your heels, you could feel a blister coming.

As you entered your living room, you found your girlfriend still in her Barcelona sweatshirt passed out on the couch. She looked so at peace that you couldn’t help but pressed a kiss to her forehead.

As much as you hated how she’d been treating you, a part of you still had so much love for her. You knew you deserved better than this version of Alexia, but you didn’t think you had it in you to let her go.

Alexia stirred, not even a guilty look when she opened her eyes and saw you standing there. “Hey, what time is it?”

“Late,” you muttered, walking back to your bedroom. You heard faint footsteps behind you, telling you Alexia was following you. You knew she was watching you, you in your fitted black dress that stopped just above your thigh. It was Alexia’s favourite dress on you, hence why you decided to wear it tonight.

“I… fell asleep,” Alexia’s voice broke the silence. She must’ve realized her mistake then. A part of you broke when she said nothing else, not even an apology.

“That’s fine,” you shrugged. You stripped off your dress and changed into a t-shirt. When you realized it was an old, faded one which belonged to Alexia, you angrily took it off and tossed it aside. This was supposed to be your side of the closet, but over the years, your clothes and Alexia’s have blended together.

“Amor…”

You couldn’t remember the last time Alexia called you that. It used to bring you warmth, but now it only made you feel mocked.

“What, Alexia?” You turned around and the sight of her finally in front of you, of her finally looking at you, made you snap. “It’s not like I waited hours for you, looking like a complete idiota as the waiter kept on checking if I was okay.”

“I didn’t—”

You put a hand up, signaling your girlfriend to stop talking. “Save it, Alexia. You know, I wasn’t even surprised that you didn’t show up. But I thought that your girlfriend’s birthday must count as a special occasion, right? I guess I really do mean nothing to you.”

“Your birthday?” Alexia’s eyes went impossibly wide. 

You laughed, that evil laughter you hear from villains in movies. There wasn’t anything funny. You just felt so pathetic to the point that there wasn’t anything else you could do but laugh at the situation.

Alexia looked like she was close to tears, but you forced yourself to not feel bad for her. She made you feel so much worse these past few weeks.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, Alexia,” you sighed. You knew you were going to lose her after this. There wasn’t going back. “I’ve done nothing but love you unconditionally, but even that seems like it’s not enough for you anymore. It used to be though, so tell me, Alexia, what changed? What did I do to make you stop loving me? We used to be so good.”

The tears were flowing freely down your face. You looked terrible. Your heart was in pieces. It wasn’t a birthday you wanted to remember.

“Ale… If you don’t want me around anymore, the least you could do is tell me. Tell me so I don’t have to wait for you to notice me again. Tell me so I can pack up my bags and leave you alone.”

“It’s not like that,” Alexia finally spoke up, her voice barely a whisper.

“Then what? I feel like I don’t matter to you anymore. You’ve done a great job of showing me that. Forgetting that it’s my birthday is the cherry on top.”

Alexia was crying too, but you didn’t know why she was crying. Guilt, maybe? But this had been going on for some time, why feel guilty now?

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you decided, having to force the words out of your mouth. “I know you don’t want to be the one to end things, so I’ll do you a favour.”

This wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted Alexia to fight for you, to prove you wrong. You wanted Alexia to tell you that she was sorry and that she didn’t realize she had been neglecting you. You wanted Alexia to pull you into her arms and not let go. You wanted her to convince you that you were still the love of her life and that she still loved you more than anything.

But Alexia said nothing else and that was all you needed to know.

[justmymindandstuff]

Hello, how you doing ?

Could i request Cregan Stark x Daemon's first daughter, born from Rhea Royce ?

She is a Targaryen and has a dragon, but she is very shy and tends to keep to herself, so she doesn't tell Cregan about being bullied by Arra Norrey's maids, who think she is not good enough for their lord.

He figures it out when he finds her letters to Rhaenyra and sees her trying to put her bags on her dragon to flee in the middle of the night.

Feel free to ignore this if you don't like it, have a lovely day ☺

Shadows of the past - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

summary: Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, is forced to remarry after the death of his first wife and childhood sweetheart. His new bride is the eldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce. Cregan fears the worst. But his wife is sweet, gentle, beautiful, kind. Everything he could wish for. He starts thinking you are slowly building a life together in the north, however he realizes that it is not as idyllic for you as he thought.

words: 7.244

warnings: angst, mention of bullying, mention of sex (not explicit), slow burn

a/n: I love writing for Cregan soo much its not normall anymore. Thank you anon for your request🧡. I hope you like it. Sorry that it took me so long.

no use of Y/N, and as always: English is not my first language, no beta, AO3.

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

When the offer of your hand from Dragonstone came, Cregan was skeptical. The eldest daughter of the rough prince as a wife. But he needs a new wife. It is his duty as the Warden of the North. And an offer from the Targaryens is not something you simply refuse. So he agrees.

Cregan had expected you to be a spoiled, arrogant, selfish princess.

The girl who arrived in Winterfell on her dragon is exactly the opposite.

You are shy, reserved, calm.

Outwardly, you are entirely Targaryen, with long blonde hair, deep lilac eyes, gentle facial features, beautiful.

Internally, there is none of the infamous Targaryen temperament in you.

When you speak, your voice sounds like a melody, always soft and gentle.

If it weren't for your dragon, Silverwing, Cregan would never think you are Daemon Targaryen's daughter.

The first few weeks, you were very closed off. Never speak unless you are spoken to. Spent most of your time in your chambers, with work or with your dragon.

So he tries everything to make you feel comfortable in Winterfell. He walks with you through the Goodswood, has your favorite food prepared, makes sure you have enough warm cloaks and dresses. When he introduces you to his son Rickon, he is more nervous than he should be, but your eyes begin to shine as the heir of Winterfell greets you politely, just like Cregan has practiced with him.

On your wedding night he swore to you he would never take you if you didn't want to, he gave you all the power in your marital bed. That night you allowed him to lie with you, he was careful, always aware of your fragility, making sure that you also felt pleasure. After that night you didn't invite him into your bed again. Cregan longs for you, but he would never pressure you.

In your first weeks as Lady Stark you spend a lot of time with Winterfells Measter, ask a lot of questions, slowly working your way into your duties as Lady Stark. Cregan quickly notices that you are well prepared for the role of a Lady of a Great House in Westeros, but Winterfell is unlike other castles. You surprise him by quickly get used to it.

The moon hasn��t passed fully since your wedding, when he finds you one day in Rickon's chambers. You are sitting on the floor with his son and play with wooden soldiers, Rickon is telling a fantasy story and you are encouraging him. Cregan's heart swells slightly at the sight.

He clears his throat to get your attention, you flinch violently, when you look up at him you look like a deer.

You get to your feet immediately, surprisingly elegant despite your hectic behavior. "My Lord." you say and lower your head in front of him. A gesture that he couldn't drive out of you.

"My Lady. What are you doing here?"

"We're playing papa." Rickon intervenes without being asked. "Are you playing with us?"

"Unfortunately, I can't today, I have duties to attend to. I just wanted to check on you, my boy."

"I'm fine, father. We're playing great. I have so much fun." he holds up his favorite woodknight.

"Then I don't want to disturb you any further." he smiles at his son, nods to you and then leaves the children's cambers again. His Lords are already waiting for him.

In the evening you come to his chambers, standing uncertainly in his room. Cregan was not expecting you anymore, he has already changed for the night. He offers you a mug of warm beer and a place by the fireplace. As you sit down your cloak slips and the white of your nightgown flashes through. Cregan has to concentrate not to let his gaze wander.

"What brings you to me so late, my wife?" he asks curiously, sitting next to you at the fire.

"I'm sorry." you don´t look him in the eyes.

Cregan has to blink a few times, doesn't understand what you mean. But you don't say anything else, avoid his gaze so that he has to ask. "What are you sorry about?"

"I didn't mean to upset you." your hands play with the fabric of your cloak.

"You didn't upset me, wife. What makes you think that?" he asks, confused. Did he behave differently? Did he speak in a too harsh tone with you?

"Today with Rickon. It upset you that I played with him. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I have no intention of replacing his mother, your late wife."

Cregan has to suppress a laugh. How wrong you are. "It didn't upset me, sweet wife." his voice is soft and you finally look him in the eyes. Your eyes are wide, surprised, your lips open slightly. Cregan wants to lean forward and kiss you, but he doesn't. "I'm glad that you're spending time with Rickon. Maybe you can be a mother figure to him someday." he expresses his wish hesitantly.

"I intend to love him as if he were mine." you say, a smile creeping onto your lips. Cregan is brave and reaches for your warm hand, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. You don't pull away and continue speaking. "But he shouldn't forget his mother."

"Don't worry about this, Lady Selina, Lady Darcy and Lady Alys will keep the memory alive."

"The Nursemaids. What does that mean?" you tilt your head slightly, examining him closely. The soft light of the fire catches in your hair and makes your skin glow warmly. Gods you are beautiful. Cregan has to swallow before he can answer.

"They were my late wife's friends, her Ladies. After Arra died, I asked them to stay in the household to look after Rickon." remembering how overwhelmed Cregan suddenly was by everything, and how much the loss of his first wife hurt him, he needs a moment to ground himself before he can continue speaking. "If that bothers you, then of course I can dismiss them and send them away from Winterfell."

He knows that this loss will hurt Rickon, he has been surrounded by the three Ladies his whole life, Selina was Arra's best friend. However he would do it for you, he wants you to feel comfortable and Rickon would get over the loss of his nannies, he is a Starkman after all, one day he will be as tough as winter. He has to be.

"No. No, please don't send them away." you squeeze his hand a little. "It is important that her friends are here. They need to tell him what his mother was like. I mean his real mother. My mother also died when I was young. I hardly remember her and I have nobody how can told me something about her." you suddenly sound sad. Cregan is surprised by your words. Additional to the Ladies, he regularly speaks to Rickon about his mother, takes him to her grave, tells stories, has a portrait of her hung in Rickon's room.

"Your father doesn't talk about her?"

You sigh, a narrow smile on your lips. You look into the flames again before speaking quietly. "No, never." you bite your lower lip and then whisper. "I was told he killed her." Cregan doesn't doubt for a second that it is true. He squeezes your hand gently. You look at him again, a sad smile on your lips. "It hurts when you don't know your mother. It's like half of yourself is missing. And my other half is a monster. I'm glad Rickon is learning about his mother and that his father isn't a monster."

A lump forms in Cregan's throat, he doesn't know what to say. Your words touch him, but at the same time make him angry at your father and he feels sorry for you. Your life doesn't seem to have been particularly bright.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Thank you. But I don't need your pity." for the first time, Cregan feels like he sees the dragon blood in your eyes. "My stepmothers both treated me as if I were their own blood. I didn't grow up without love."

"I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't." your gentle smile is back on your lips. "So I can take care of Rickon?" you avoid his gaze again, your cheeks are slightly red.

"Of course. I'm glad you're getting along well."

"He's great. A good boy." you smile and then get up elegantly from your chair. "I'm retiring now. Good night husband."

"Good night sweet wife." he sinks into a slight curtsy before leaving his chambers. Cregan takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair. He's happy that you want to take care of Rickon. That you want to be a part of his family. This is something he wanted for this marriage, that you can be a family.

Cregans efforts take fruits. He has the feeling that you are slowly thawing and starting to trust him.

A light summer snow falls down and gets caught in the fur of your hood. Cregan has take you for a ride through the Wolfswood today. Cregan is surprised how well you can hold yourself in the saddle. In the next moment, he doubts his sanity. You are riding a dragon. Such a horse is of course easy for you. You look around with wide eyes and a gentle smile on your face. Cregan can't help but stare at you, captivated by your beauty.

"I missed that at Dragonstone." you say, looking over to him. Cregan flinches slightly, doesn't quite understand what you mean.

"Forests?" he guesses. He has no idea about Dragonstone's vegetation.

"No. To see something new. Dragonstone is an island, if you live there long enough, you've seen everything." you shrug your shoulders.

Cregan has to chuckle slightly. "You have a dragon, sweet Wife. You could have seen the whole world."

"I would never have left my family." you say firmly. Are you angry?

"I didn't mean to offend you." he tries to circle back. He is always a bit unsure when he talks to you. He wants you to feel comfortable, that you are doing well, and he wants you to like him. Maybe someday you will love him. He finds it hard to be patient. If he is honest with himself, you had him from the very first moment. Your beauty overwhelmed him, your kindness and gentleness captivated him, and your smile. Gods, your smile makes his heart beat faster.

He knows that he loves you. Even if he can't tell you. Not yet. He is afraid of scaring you. So he holds back. He tries to give you space so you can get used to your new role, your new home, and him.

He would love to scream his feelings for you from the wall so that the whole world hears it.

But it is not the right time for that yet.

A soft smile is on your lips again. "You didn´t husband."

He is relieved and returns your smile. "Do you want to go back? It's a little cold today."

"I'm not cold. I'm from the blodd of the Dragon. The cold doesn't bother me. It´s almost like I belong in the north." in the next moment your eyes widen and you look down. A blush spreads across your cheeks and Cregan has to swallow, his heart skips a beat.

"You are Lady Stark. You belong to Winterfell now." he says, trying to take away your insecurity. You don't look at him again, but he sees a smile on your lips. Maybe you'll even belong to him someday. He hopes so.

Back in Winterfell, you let him help you off your horse. His hands stay on your hips for a moment too long, but you don't seem to mind. You look up at him, your cheeks turn slightly red but you manage to hold his gaze. Cregan drowns into your beautiful, violet eyes. He leans forward slightly, wanting to feel your lips on his even if it's only for a moment. You don't back away.

"Papa." Rickon's voice echoes across the courtyard. Cregan and you flinch apart. He lets go of you and turns to his son. Anger flares up in him briefly at the disturbance, but when his boy jumps into his arms with a broad laugh, it immediately disappears.

"Rickon! Don't be so wild." Lady Darcy comes running out of the castle after him. Cregan notices you shifting your weight from one foot to the other next to him, out of the corner of his eye he sees you turning to your horse. A strange feeling spreads through him. At that moment Lady Darcy comes to him, opens her arms to take Rickon. "My Lord Stark, welcome back," she greets him and curtsies slightly.

"Papa, can I visit the dragon? Darcy says it's too dangerous alone, but you're back now," his son calls excitedly. Cregan's stomach tighten, he keeps himself as far away from Silverwing as possible. He is not comfortable with the monster. Even if there have been no problems so far, your dragon only hunts prey, stays away from people and the farmers' livestock. She usually flies further north, you told him that she has a cave there.

"I think that's a bad idea." Dracy interjects. "The monster is unpredictable, far too dangerous."

Cregan thinks for a moment, of course the nursemaid is right, Silverwing is dangerous. But you know your dragon better. You will certainly be able to judge whether your dragon poses a danger to Rickon or not. He turns to you to ask if it's okay for you to go visit your dragon with him and Rickon, but you are no longer standing next to your horse. His gaze searches the yard, but there is no trace of you. You sneaked away quietly and secretly. Cregan's eyebrows furrow.

"Papa, please, please. I promise I won't pet the dragon either. Just a quick look."

"My lady wife must go with you, Rickon. But she seems to have other things to do today. Another time."

Rickon's lower lip trembles slightly, but he knows better and doesn't burst into tears. The heir of Winterfell doesn't cry over such little things as a denied wish.

"What important things Lady Stark must have to do." Cregan is surprised by Dracy's bitter tone, but he pushes the thought away; perhaps he simply misunderstood her.

The Maester warned him that summer could soon be over. It has been summer for four years now. That means more work for Cregan as Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, he has to make sure that his people survive this winter, at least most of them. Winter demands his victims, every damn time. Cregan can only keep the losses as small as possible. So he sinks into paperwork and negotiations with the Lords of the North. Nobody wants to share supplies, everyone is afraid that there won't be enough for themselves. Cregan's tasks is it to find compromises. He would much rather spend his time with you, he longs for you, for your gentle smile, your kind words, the time you have spend together. He wonders if you miss him too?

He only ever gets brief glimpses of you, when you meet in the hallway you give him a smile, when he makes it to the hall for dinner you are usually already sitting there with Rickon, greet him friendly and assure him that you are happy to see him.

Cregan is on his way to a meeting with the carpenter. The houses in Winter Town need to be made winterproof and the villagers need his help. As he walks across the gallery that spans one of the courtyards of Winterfell, your laughter pulls him out of his stride. He stops immediately and turns his head towards the noise.

You and Rickon run across the courtyard, playing catch. His little boy jumps back and forth in front of you, laughing loudly. You let him win, pretending you have trouble catching him.

Lady Selina steps beside him. Her lips are drawn into a thin line.

"My Lord." she slightly bows her head before him and Cregan smiles faintly, he finds it hard to take his eyes off you and Rickon.

"What can I do for you?" he asks and hopes that it's nothing urgent. He's considering canceling the meeting and taking you and Rickon to the Goodswood instead, where you can spend time together as a family without being disturbed.

"I am worried, My Lord." now she has his full attention. His shoulders tense up.

"What happened?" Unrest among the lords, a fight? The servants usually know this things before he does.

Selina gives him a smile. "Nothing happen, My Lord."

He breathes a sigh of relief. "What troubles you then?" Cregan tries not to sound as annoyed as he is. Selina knows that he has a lot to do at the moment. Neverless for the sake of the love he had for his first wife, he always tries to be friendly, even though Selina can often be irritating. Sometimes she takes herself more important than she is, behaves like the Lady of Winterfell, and Cregan has had to remind her of her position more than once.

"It's your new wife, My Lord." she starts, her smile is friendly, doesn't really fit her tone. At the mention of you his heart beats faster, he just has to think of you and he feels like a little boy with a crush. Seeing you makes him float on cloud nine. Cregan turns back to the side and looks down at you again. The broad smile on his lips is unusual for the young Lord.

"We can be glad that she is here with us." his voice is gentle. He has to clear his throat and straightens his shoulders. He quickly slips back into his role as Lord Stark, not the lovesick idiot.

"Can we?" the sharp tone makes Cregans skin crawl. He furrows his eyebrows, turns around. Lady Selina does not flinch from his gaze, but straightens her shoulders. She is a northern woman, intimidation does not work on her. She is like him, hard as winter, unyielding as the wind.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, Lady Selina?"

"No, my Lord. It's just that I… we think that a southern girl might be too weak for the important task of being Lady of Winterfell." she chooses her words carefully, smiling. "I´m only thinking about Rickon and his upbringing. I want the best for him, you know that."

The mention of his son causes his anger at Lady Selina to evaporate. Of course she is only thinking of his son, she wants the best for him. Loves him like her own child.

"My wife is a princess, a Targaryen. She does her job well. Or have you heard something else?"

"No, of course not." Lady Selina lowers her head slightly, no longer looking at Cregan. "I'm just worried about Rickon."

"I really appreciate your concern and care for my son. But your doubts are unfounded. Now if you would excuse me."

"Of course, my Lord." She clenches her jaw and sinks into a curtsy. Cregan walks past her to finally meet the carpenter, he is already too late.

Negotiations with the lords are going badly, Cregan is buried in work and doesn't know what to do. The sun has long set but sleep does not come to him. Instead he sits by the fireplace in his chambers, the taste of beer on his lips and stares into the flames. He sighs. He needs help. Could you give him some advice? That would kill two birds with one stone, he could finally spend some time with you again and maybe find a solution. Without thinking twice he calls for his servant and sends for you.

It doesn't take long before you enter his chambers. You look around uncertainly, you have thrown a cloak over your nightgown, your long blonde hair falls loosely over your shoulders. You are sight for sore eyes.

"My Lord husband," you whisper, curtsying deeper than usual. You slowly take a few steps into the room and stop in the middle. You tremble slightly, your breathing is faster than usual and your hands fumble with the hem of your nightgown. "You ordered me into your bed." your voice trembles as you take a step towards his bed.

Cregans heart sinks, he is on his feet in a heartbeat. You flinch. "My sweet wife, no. I told you I would never do that." he says quickly. It was stupid of him, of course you would think he was ordering you into the marital bed.

"Oh I just thought. Because some time has passed since our wedding night. I thought you might be impatient."

"No. I just wanted to discuss something with you. Please sit down next to me." he points to the chair in front of the fireplace. The fire gives off pleasant heat, sweat forms on Cregan's forehead. However, you are shaking slightly. Cregan reaches for his cloak and puts it around your shoulders before sitting down himself again.

You smile. "Thank you husband." you whisper.

"I'm sorry about the misunderstanding. I just thought you might be able to offer me some advice."

You smile again and Cregan is happy about it. "I don't know if my advice is really useful."

He has to suppress a snort at your modesty. You handle your duties as Lady Stark flawlessly.

"I'm sure it is. And besides that, well." he interrupts himself, noticing the blush rising in his cheeks. "I've hardly had any time for you in the last few days. I'm sorry about that too. I wanted to spend time with you."

Your smile widens. "I've missed the time with you too." you whisper and Cregan's heart starts racing. You missed him. You shift back and forth, making yourself comfortable. "How can I help?"

He starts to describe the problems to you, the stubbornness of his lords, the lying about their supplies even though he knows full well that they have more than they admit. The arguments among themselves.

"Can't you force them to give up some of their stock?" you ask after listening carefully.

This time Cregan snorts, leans back a little in his chair. "And how am I supposed to do that?" Inciting Bannerman against Bannerman would only make things worse.

"Silverwing could help."

"No!" his tone is sharp, his voice too loud for the pleasant atmosphere. You flinch in shock, look at him with wide eyes before avoiding his gaze again.

You swallow. "I'm sorry. It was just an idea. My father always uses Caraxes to get his way." you whisper. Cregan leans forward, reaches for your hand. His heart stops while he waits to see if you pull your hand away. You don't, his fingers carefully wrap around yours.

"Using your Dragon would fulfill the purpose, but I don't want to intimidate my men with her. I don't want to rule with fire and blood."

You nod. "I understand. It was stupid of me."

"No." he shakes his head and gently strokes the back of your hand. "I just hope for a peaceful solution."

You straighten up a little. "Then let's look for a peaceful solution." You both start to brainstorm, but your conversation quickly drifts off. You talk about your childhood in Pentos, your days on Dragonstone and your siblings. Cregan manages to open up about his uncle, how he had to fight for his inheritance and for his rule.

It's good to be able to tell you all this, to have someone to confide in. Only when you yawn after every word and Cregan has trouble opening his eyes again after blinking do you decide to end the evening.

"I'm going back to my chambers then." you say and pull his cloak off your shoulders.

"I'll call a guard for you."

"No, please don't wake anyone up. I'll find the way myself," you say, but your look is uncertain. Cregan also has a bad feeling about letting you walk through half of Winterfell at night.

"Then I'll accompany you."

"Please, husband, don't make yourself so much trouble because of me. You're exhausted yourself and it's an unnecessary journey for you." you object.

Cregan looks at his bed, it's big enough for both of you. Arra has also spent most of her nights here.

"You could sleep here?" he suggests quietly. Your eyes dart to the bed and then to him. You swallow. "Not to fulfill your marital duties, just to sleep." Cregan quickly clarifies.

"What will people think?"

He has to suppress a laugh. "You're my wife, my lady. The people won't think anything."

Your cheeks turn slightly red again. "Right." you think for a moment and then pull your own cloak from your shoulders. Cregan has to look into the flames so that his gaze doesn't get stuck on the curves of your cleavage and he stares like an iron born. Only after you get comfortably under the furs and blankets of the bed he slips off his own clothes and lies down next to you, keeping a safe distance.

"Sleep well, sweet wife."

"Sleep well, husband."

When Cregan wakes up the next morning, you've already disappeared, but your side of the bed is still warm. He turns to the side, buries his face in your pillow and inhales your scent deeply. Cregan knows that you prefer to fly with Silverwing in the morning, so he doesn't worry.

He's tired, but he still throws himself into work.When he returns to his chambers late that evening, you are already sitting in the chair by the fireplace. You turn to him, your cheeks red, but you look him in the eyes. Your hands shake slightly as you hand him a cup of wine.

"I got it from Pentos. I told you about it yesterday." He nods. He's still surprised that you're sitting here, he can hardly believe it. Warmth flows through him and he can't wipe the smile from his lips. He slowly takes your wine and sits down opposite you. "We didn't find a solution to our problem with the Lords yesterday." if you plan to come to him in the evening until you've found a solution, he wish there wasn't one.

Three evenings later you are sleeping in his bed again, two weeks later you snuggle up in his arms before you go to sleep and in the morning you kiss his cheek before you set off to see your dragon. Cregan can hardly believe his luck. You open up a little more every day, now you reach for his hand yourself, brush strands of hair from his face, kiss his cheek, lean into his embrace.

But suddenly you start to close yourself off again. It started with you not waiting for him in his chambers one evening, you send a servant to excuse you for that night. He thought you might be sick. But you don't come the next day either, he doesn't see you all day. In the morning he sees Silverwing flying over Winterfell towards the south, the sun is already hanging low on the horizon in the evening when the dragon lands again in front of the castle gates. Cregan feels like you're slipping away from him again. His heart aches at the thought. Did he do something wrong? Was he rude to you without realizing it? Was the longed-for closeness you built up just in his head?

Neverless Cregan was able, or rather you were able, to settle the arguments between the Lords a little. From your place at the high table, you reminded them in a gentel voice that everyone only wanted the best for the North and how wonderful it is that the Northern Lords were fighting the winter together. A little lie that you told, a smile and even Lord Bolton's tense features softened. It's a step in the right direction.

You hardly give him a smile anymore. Cregan doesn't know what's wrong. He is frustrated and sad. In his mind he goes through every moment, looking to see if he has done something wrong. He doesn´t find an answer.

His steps lead him through the corridors of Winterfell, he wants to go to Rickon. Because of all the work and his spiraling thoughts about you, he hasn't visited his son much in the last few days.

He hears laughter from the nursery, recognizes Lady Selina and Lady Aly's voices. Without knocking, he opens the door. The two ladies flinch at their place in front of the fireplace, the conversation falls silent. They both jump up, curtsy briefly and greet him with a "My Lord Stark." Both Ladys exchange a nervous look, Creggan's stomach tightens. He has the feeling that something is wrong but he doesn´t know what it is.

"Papa." Rickon jumps up from the carpet, his toy dragon falls to the floor and he runs to him. Cregan bends down to his son and takes him in his arms.

"Leave us alone," he dismisses the ladies. He wants to spend a little time with his son, show him that he is important to him despite all the stress. Rickon should never think that his father doesn't love him. Alys and Selina leave the nursery. Cregan puts Rickon down again and sits down on the floor next to him. Rickon immediately has his toy figures in his hand again.

"Are you coming to play?" he asks and holds out the dragon figure to him, big eyes sparkle at him and a radiant smile is on his lips.

"Yes." Cregan answers and takes the dragon, it looks small in his hand.

"That's my favorite toy."

"Not the knight anymore?" Cregan laughs quietly.

"No, no." says Rickon in a serious voice, as if it were the most important thing in the world. "The dragon. It was a gift from my princess."

Now Cregan can't hold back his laughter. "Your princess?"

"Yes." Rickon nods.

"You mean my wife, my dear. You really like her a lot, don't you?"

"Yes, I like her a lot." suddenly his eyes turn sad and he rips the toy out of his father's hand, pressing it to his chest. Cregan frowns, wants to scold Rickon, but he is already speaking again. "But she doesn't like me anymore." his voice trembles. Cregan has to swallow at the sight, puts a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Why do you think that? She likes you a lot."

"But why doesn't she play with me anymore? She hardly ever comes to visit me. Only when the teacher is there. She doesn't want to play with me at all, she just wants to supervise my lessons." he sounds defiant, as only children can, and Cregan has to sigh. He doesn´t have a answer for his son.

Why are you behaving like this? You wanted to take care of him and you enjoyed it. You often told him how much you enjoyed spending time with his son, what a good boy he is. That you love him like he is your son. Cregan has a bad feeling. He knows that something is wrong, even if he can't quite put his finger on it.

The door opens and you step uncertainly into the room, your gaze wanders around the room and then stops at Cregan and Rickon. A radiant smile appears on your face.

"My Lord husband." you say and nod slightly. Cregan is glad that you have finally stopped curtsying to him. "I didn't know you were here." Is he imagining it or do you sound relieved? Cregan doesn't know how to react to you now. Lately you have been acting absent and distant, shy like at the beginning. At other times you grab his hand, lean on his arm or smile at him with sparkling eyes when he speaks. He can't figure you out. "Can I sit with you?" you whisper, tearing him out of his thoughts. He nods and you sink down onto the carpet next to him and Rickon. His son immediately demands your attention, happy that you want to spend time with him.

It takes a few moments, but then Cregan lets himself be lulled by the warm, happy atmosphere. In these moments he completely forgets the thought of you withdrawing from him again. The time with his family is good for him, that is exactly what he always wanted. A happy family, safe behind the walls of Winterfell.

However his little bubble of family happiness bursts just a few hours later when Lady Darcy enters.

"My Lord Stark." she curtsies to him. "I'm here to pick up Rickon for his bath."

"No, I don't want to!" Rickon calls out. A single stern look from Cregan is enough to silence him. He stands up and takes a few steps towards Darcy. "Can my princess take me to my bath?" he asks quietly. Darcy rolls his eyes, looks at you, just like Cregan. You look at Dracy and then shake your head.

"Go with Lady Darcy." you say quietly, is your voice shaking? Rickon doesn't contradict and follows the nursemaid out of the room. Cregan turns to you with a smile, maybe you two can finally spend a little time toghether again, but you don't meet his gaze. When he reaches for your hand, you pull it away and jump up.

"Excuse me." your voice is quiet and you storm out of the room. Were those tears in your eyes? Cregan shakes his head, no, that can't be. The light was probably just reflected. He sighs and tries to fight down his anger and hurt because of your rejection.

He paces back and forth in his chambers. You haven't shown up for your evening meeting again. What's keeping you away? He just has to talk to you, he wants to find out what is bothering you. Did he make a mistake? Worry spreads through him and he sets off to look for you. His steps quickly lead him up the many stairs to Lady Stark's chambers.

Your chambers lie deserted before him. Cregans heart sinks. Where are you? It's almost midnight. You should be here. Did something happen to you? He is looking around your chambers. The chambers of Lady Stark are traditionally located at the top of the North Tower. They are the warmest chambers in the castle. Perfect for a dragon like you. Sweat beads on Cregan's forehead, yet he searches the chambers for a clue.

He feels guilty about looking at your private things, but he has no choice. Maybe you are in danger. Nothing seems unusual. To be honest, he can't be sure, he is hardly ever in your chambers. It is your private area, but it seems as if you only have a few things here. That surprises Cregan a little.

He goes to your desk, it is covered with papers, scrolls and letters. He knows that you write a lot to your family, and that you receive a letter from at least one of your family members almost every week. Only your father doesn't write to you, you told him that.

His gaze flicks over the first line of the letter you had started.

Mother, please. It's so terrible here.

He reads the first words and his heart aches painfully. Is it his fault? Do you hate him?

My husband Cregan is everything I could wish for, kind, tender, and warm; he has such a big heart. I love him. But the problem are the maids of the late Lady Stak. I wrote to you that it doesn't seem like they like me. But now it's getting worse.

I tried to take care of Rickon. Just like you always took care of Baela, Rhena, and me. He is such a sweet boy. But the Ladies are so terribly mean. I know they were Lady Norrey's friends, but I don't understand how they can be so horrible. What did I do wrong? I don't understand how I could have upset them so much that they hate me.

They say terrible things to me, I don't want to repeat them. Even bad things about our family. The insults hurt so much. The worst thing is when they laugh at me. I feel so stupid when they do that.

I don't want Rickon to find out about this, so I stay away from him. It breaks my heart. I'm afraid to talk to Cregan. I don't want them to lose their last connection to Lady Arra.

Please, I can't take it anymore. I want to go home. Please let me come home.

On the pages, there are small dark spots where your tears have dripped onto the paper and smudged the ink.

Why didn't you tell him anything? Guilt overcomes him. He should have known, he should have noticed something.

Hot anger towards the Ladies rises within him. He would love to have them all executed.

A growl catches his attention. With two steps, he is at the window. The full moon illuminates the night outside, the snow reflects the light. He sees a slender figure walking across the fields outside the Keep. Silverswing's massive body rises from the snow as you run towards your dragon.

Cregan whirls around and sprints down the stairs. Fear and worry burn in his heart. He pushes the door outward a little too hard. The wood creaks as it slams against the stone walls. Every breath burns in his lungs as he inhales the cold air. Nevertheless, his steps do not slow down.

Silverwing whirls her head around before you notice him. At the sudden movement, you slip and one of the bags you were just about to attach to the saddle falls from your hand. A few of your clothes fall into the snow. Cregan realizes that you really were about to run away. Run away from him. His heart hurts by this thought. The next moment he remembers himself that you are not running away because of him.

He calls your name. You whirl around, your look like a startled deer.

"Cregan." you whisper. He recognizes tears in your eyes, tear stains on your cheeks, your eyes are slightly red

"What are you doing?" he asks, while he tries to catch his breath. Cregan tries to let his voice sound as soft as possible, you already look like you will faint for fear every moment.

"I wanted to visit Silverwing," you lie, your hands cramps around the leather of the saddle. Silverwing lets out a growl. Cregan needs all his strength not to jump back in fright.

"Please come down." he almost begs, he stands much too close to the dragon for his liking. Silverwing is very gentle. You once told him that. Nevertheless, the hundred-year-old monster can swallow him in one gulp.

You hesitate. "Go back inside," you say then, but you don't look at him.

"No." his voice is firm now. "Either you come down voluntarily or I'll come up and get you." it's not a bluff, if he has to he'll climb on that dragon to get you down. Even if Silverwing will probably tear him into pieces before he even gets close to you.

Silverwing stretches out her wing, the claws on her forefoot digging into the snow just a few steps in front of him. Is that a threat? You look at your dragon, then swing to the side and slide down the wing. Without thinking, Cregan moves closer and catches you. You wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer to him. Warm tears drip onto the skin at the crook of his neck. You sob, take a breath and try to say something, but only another desperate sound comes from your throat.

"I found your letter to the Queen." he admits. You tense up, wanting to pull away from him, but Cregan holds you tight. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want you to be angry."

Oh he is angry, but not at you. He would love to cut off the ladies' heads, but women are not executed in the North. The North is still a place of honor.

Now he lets go of you, pushes away slightly to look you in the face. He carefully wipes the tears from your cheek. You lean into his touch, sighs quietly and closes your eyes. Cregan leans forward and kisses your forehead.

"What did they say to you?" he then whispers.

You swallow, open your eyes before you start to speak. "At first it was just little taunts. But over time it got worse and worse. They said I would ruin the North, that many people would die next winter because of my stupidity." the tears come back to you eyes and you have to sob. Cregan pulls you into his arms again, strokes your hair as you bury your face in his chest.

"Those are lies. You did nothing wrong. On the contrary, you are a great Lady Stark."

"But that wasn't even the worst part. They also said that I am not good enough for you. That you only put up with me because you were forced to marry me. They said that you will never love me and that there is only room in your heart for Lady Arra, that she is your first and only love and I am just an intruder."

Cregan's heart breaks, he knows that you took the Nursemaids at their word. Again he pushes you away, carefully puts his hand under your chin and forces you to look at him.

"Those are lies too. Yes, I loved Arra. But that doesn't mean that I can't love you. You are not an intruder. I want you here with me."

Tears well up in your eyes again. "What about the Ladies?" you ask quietly, but keep eye contact.

"I will throw all three of them out first thing tomorrow morning. Let the Others get them, I don't care. Maybe Silverwing wants a little snack."

The dragon lowers its head to you, looks at Cregan as if she agrees.

"Rickon needs them."

"No. Rickon only needs me and you, his family." Cregan insists. His son will cope with the loss, he is sure of that.

"I would like to be your family."

Cregan has to smile at your words. "I love you, sweet wife." he whispers. Your lips open slightly as you look at him in surprise. Then you stand on your tiptoes and kiss him gently. His heart almost burst, butterflies explode in his stomach and despite the cold night he feels warm.

You sink back on your feet, your cheeks are red, but you smile. Silverwing blows hot air from her nostrils towards Cregan, he flinches back and you giggle.

"That means she likes you."

"And what about you? Do you like me too?" he asks, his lips twisting into a grin.

"I thought you read my letter to Rhaenyra." you say, also grinning."

Please say it anyway."

"I love you, my sweet husband." Cregan leans down and seals your lips with a kiss.

[reidrum]

glory of the snow

note: the return of insecure!reader my beloved <3 i had a bunch of requests to bring her back so i hope we like it! this is really just a gentle reminder from spencer that we should be kinder to ourselves. also i wanted to have them actually fuck but it didn't seem right to fit that in here so ,,, part 2 question mark who is to say. anyways my inbox is always open for any thoughts, comments, questions, musings all of it! love y'all mwah

summary: you freak out when spencer walks in on you accidentally, and he just loves you too much to let it go

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, masturbation (r, just mentions), heavy petting/kissing, comfort, talks of intimacy issues, self-deprecating reader

wc: 3k

��Oh, sweet girl.”

Three words, maybe two and one syllable, that in any other instance would have had you melting into a puddle at the softness it reared. Words that have so easily turned you into a preening cat but are now aimed at you, albeit no judgement from his end, with no room for escape.

Spencer had come home after a long day of paperwork when he first heard it. He would have brushed it off if it didn’t happen again moments later, and louder. Concerned, he walks toward the bedroom, a flush rushing to his face as he comes to recognize what it is. A small crack of the door allowed him the glorious sight of you in the center of the bed, hand between your legs, eyes shut in ecstasy. You’re mesmerizing to him and he really can’t bring himself to look away, and he doesn’t notice himself subconsciously leaning on the door causing a faint creak that alarmed you to his presence. In that moment, however, he’s less worried about scaring you, and more about the overwashing look of shame on your face.

The soft creak of the door pulled you out of your daze, screaming when you saw the figure behind the door. Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets nearly, heartbeat still racing with adrenaline from when you haphazardly threw the blanket over yourself. You were conflicted, but getting caught doing something that is a common and completely normal instance in relationships really shouldn’t make you feel this guilty. Although you do know the guilt was created by a previous version of you where you had told Spencer that you wanted to take the pace of your relationship slowly, and had little to no desire to engage in such activities for the time being. Or so you said.

He cautiously steps closer, careful not to startle you further, “I’m not upset, or anything.”

You’re not upset either, you’re mortified. “I lied to you.”

“You did…but I don’t think you meant to, right?”

There had been a time where you were tangled all up in him, and poor Spencer, his hands were in the wrong place at the wrong time to no fault of his own and entirely yours, and your shutdown was unavoidable. The blood in your veins seized up like crystallizing water turning into ice, paralyzing both the physical and mental before you could realize.

Intimacy for you was a complicated concept. While it wasn’t novel or unwanted, physical intimacy was something you struggled to accept with open arms. Call it a consequence of your self perception, but it was hard to accept the soft touch of love when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Spencer never minded, although his heart ached to make you see yourself the way he saw you, he was always more than willing to meet you where you were.

It almost pains you with how understanding Spencer was of the whole situation because you knew any other person would be deeply upset. Every other person was upset.

Spencer never was just any other person, you suppose.

“I don’t know how to explain this.” Another lie, you could easily explain the reason.

It’s not that you weren’t ready, it’s that you didn’t feel like you looked ready. The thought of subjecting Spencer to the one dark cornerstone of your being in the early days of being together seemed illogical and burdensome, and so it was more simple to play it off as wanting to take a slow pace.

But, as biology would see it you have needs and your boyfriend just happens to be so detrimentally attractive that the simplest act has been sending you into a hot fit as of late. The culprit this time was an innocent mirror picture of him at the store trying on new trousers. You had no chance.

You had found that your intimacy issues lie within extending it to others, and less with yourself. The solution of you finding release on your own quickly became a habit when you realized there was no fear on your own. There’s no one to let down if you’re alone.

Spencer perches at the foot of the bed, flat hand outstretched on the blanket towards you but keeping a comfortable distance, “You don’t have to explain anything, honey.”

“No I know, but—fuck—I should.” you bury your face, choosing to only speak to him from behind your hands for now, maybe forever.

He takes a moment to take inventory of your physical being—you don’t look in pain. Clearly you didn’t sound in pain. Your face is flushed, and though he’s sitting a little far from you, the heat radiating from your body hits him like a space heater.

“Sweetheart…I’m not upset.” he repeats, in hopes a reminder might provide reassurance.

It doesn’t. “You’re never upset at me, it’s concerning.” you mumble.

“You make it kind of hard to be upset at you, ever really.” Spencer braves and lays a hand on your leg.

You take a deep breath, the cold of his hand grounding you more and more. Spencer senses the calm it’s bringing you and rubs circles into your calf.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” he asks gently.

What are you even feeling? You ponder for a moment—anxious, nervous, bad.

“Embarrassed.”

“Honey, there’s nothing embarrassing about masturbating. In fact, it’s more than healthy to do it to keep cortisol levels low,” he explains, “I just don’t know why you didn’t…want to tell me.”

The guilt swirls in your gut, hearing the twinge of hurt buried beneath the comfort he’s laid out for you. He just wants to help you, but you won’t let him in and that hurts him more.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“It’s just…I…Look it’s…You’re just so hot—“ you slip out, clamping your hand over your mouth before leaking any more intrusive thoughts.

A faint smirk ghosts his face, “I’m…hot?”

“No—Well, yes. I just…ugh.”

“Okay, okay calm down,” he scoots closer and gently brings the hands covering your eyes to rest in your lap, “You don’t need to be all secretive, you know I’d never judge you.”

“I know,”

“I just thought you wanted to wait.”

“I do.”

“But, not with me? It’s okay if it's not with me.”

“Spence, I do. It’s not that.”

“Am I missing something?”

You gulp, “I just…it’s a personal problem. With me. Not you.”

His brows furrow, “Like what, baby? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Yeah, if a doctor can fix my shoddy self esteem and make me like myself again.” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh. 

The pause he takes seems to be ages long before he speaks again, “Angel, how long have you been feeling like that?”

You’ve been caught red-handed, water filling up the tank faster than you can tread, “It’s nothing, I was just joking.”

“Hey,” he says with a rare firmness, “How. Long?”

You deflate under his hard gaze, “A…while…long enough… for it to feel like a…like a default setting, I guess.” you trail off.

Spencer couldn’t hide the hurt on his face if he tried. Not hurt from your lack of admission, hurt that you had felt like this for so long, dealt with this for so long on your own, and he didn’t even know.

All he ever hoped and wanted was for you to be happy, and if he could be the source of that he would ask for nothing more in life. So to hear about you struggling with this, that you felt like you had to keep it to yourself, was heartbreaking.

Spencer remains in his head a little too long as he’s broken out of it by your small voice, “Are you sure you’re not mad?”

He sighs and moves to sit next to you, making sure he stays above the blanket for your comfort. His back is against the headboard of the bed, and he raises his arm a little, gesturing for you to fill the you shaped crevice. You hesitantly move into the space, hating how you feel every move you’re making is calculated, but all of that goes away the second your head meets his chest and his hand comes up to comb through your hair, the other smoothing your arm down, and all you’re left with is him.

“I promise I’m not mad,” he whispers softly, “Just wish you told me. I would have helped you.” He’s intentional in his wording—would, and not could. Could implies he has a choice, a want to do or not do something. I could have helped you, or I could have not helped you. Would is finite, he is doing it because it is programmed in him that caring for you is a need. I would have helped you because it is the only thing I know to be certifiably true, that you deserve to be cared for.

“It sounds stupid out loud but I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same if you saw me like…that. It seemed logical for me to remove that option altogether.”

His heart aches painfully, and he wishes he could take everyone who’s made you feel that way to target practice. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world. I would spend every day of my life proving that to you.” he utters with unequivocal resolve.

You sigh out shakily, “You’re too kind to me.”

“I’m always kind to you. You deserve kindness. You deserve a lot of things actually…” he trails off.

“Like what?” you ask.

“Well, did you um—” he trails. You look at him quizzically, he continues, “Like before I came in did you…finish?”

Oh. “Oh. I…I don’t think I did, actually. It’s okay though, no big deal.”

He stares at you intently, “Do you want to?”

Your eyes widen, “Spence oh, no it’s okay really you don’t have to do that.  

“You’re encouraged to say no if you feel even an ounce of doubt, but I’m offering because I love you and I want to show you that you can feel safe with me, even when you feel otherwise.”

The familiar sting returns to your eyes as the tears pool up. You’re not used to anyone putting this much effort and concern for your comfort, it’s a novel feeling but if Spencer is willing to handle you with as much care as he is, you’re ready to welcome that sentiment in with open arms.

“Yeah, yes.” you waver.

He grins and leans down, gingerly pressing his lips to yours. His hand ghosts from your calf to your knee, testing the water before moving more intent. An unwelcome yet familiar onset slowly rises, trying to break through to you, “Wait—“

He retracts his hand immediately, “You okay? We can stop if you need to.”

You shake your head. “No, no I’m fine. I just need a second.” you breath out, trying to self regulate. 

He pulls back his hand but you stop him, “No keep it there, it helps. I just…” You don’t know how to phrase it. You think it’s because you’re not in control. When you’re alone it’s only you at the helm calling the shots. But when it really comes down to it, the lack of control is nothing compared to the lack of predictability that comes with the former. Explaining that out loud was daunting to even think about.

Yet Spencer understands what you need, because he always knows what you need. His hand returns to your knee, giving it a soft squeeze, “You tell me to stop whenever you need to.”

He continues kissing you while smoothing his hand up your leg, making wide and sweeping motions across the plush of your thigh so you can feel where he is and where his hand is going. The gesture is comforting and makes you feel grounded, but your head is in a dreamy haze at how good Spencer’s hands feel on you.

The haze leaves through your lips as Spencer feels you sigh against him, feeling you relax more and more as the seconds go by. His hand reaches your upper thigh, fingers ghosting on the inside. “Is this okay?”

You nod, feeling your nerves idling like a distant wave in the ocean. But Spencer’s presence is a lighthouse shining through the fog and guiding you to his shores while the calm washes over you.

His fingers lightly trace the fabric of your panties, ones that you had slid back up your hips upon his entrance into the room. The motion causes you to jump and he pulls back to gauge your reaction. When he sees no fear in your eyes, more so stunned by your wide eyed gaze, his fingers move with more precision, adding more pressure to your clothed core.

A gentle gasp leaves you as he strokes up and down your slit. You’ve given up on continuing to kiss him, the feeling of his hands being too overwhelming to have both sensations at the same time. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your body involuntarily curving towards him as he draws symbols on you with his index. Your breathing gets heavier and faster the longer he goes, and soon small moans begin to escape you.

He drags his finger to the top of your panties and toys with the band, faintly asking, “You still with me, sweet girl?” You preen into the crevice of his neck as he keeps talking, “Want me to keep going?” 

He feels you nodding into him as you breathlessly whisper, “Please.”

His finger dips below the fabric and travels down to your entrance, gathering the slickness and spreading it all over you. “Fuck,” he curses softly, “Look how wet you are, baby.”

You whimper at his words and Spencer ascends to the heavens if there even is one, and if there is it’s the one where you sound like that for him. He circles back up to your clit, paying special attention to the bundle of nerves before sliding back your slit and repeating the whole sequence a few more times.

Your moans are coming out at a steady pace, and he’s been prodding around your entrance for some time now, teasing and edging you closer. “Gonna put a finger in now, okay? Doing so good for me, baby.” he murmurs.

The feeling of his finger entering you is satiating. But it’s not enough, and you need more. “Spence,” you manage to get out, “Can take another one, please.” His eyes shut tight as he revels in your desperation for him, and how cynical he must be to love having you at his mercy this much. He would confess the darkest of sins if you asked him in that tone, and he has no choice but to oblige. He stifles a groan at how easily the second finger slid in, his other hand moving up to play with your hair and cradle your head close to his chest as he works his ministrations.

The familar coil builds in your gut, but at an intensity you’ve never felt before. His fingers move in and out of you urgently, his thumb returning to your clit. He’s a man determined to get you there, and your moans and cries of his name only spur him on further. After a few minutes your moans and cries turn into whines and babbles, and he knows you’re close.

His head leans down to croon in your ear, “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, sweet girl. You can come, ‘m right here.”

It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come harder than you ever have on your own, the waves of your climax overtaking you completely. Spencer continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm, talking you the whole way down. Mutters of praises and kisses flow through your subconscious as the euphoria high takes its peak and you come back down to this realm.

His hand smoothes your hair back as you continue to pant against his chest, words unable to find you.

“You okay?”

You finally catch your breath, “That was—fuck—the most insane orgasm I have ever had.”

Spencer beams at this. For one, his obvious and impressive skills that have stunned you into oblivion. And two, because you look so relaxed. The stark difference of your anxiety filled face from when he first came into the room to the blissed out daze you have right now makes his heart swell five sizes up.

He hugs you closer and whispers, “I’m so proud of you, angel. Thank you for trusting me.”

Sleep is fighting you hard as you laugh airily and tuck yourself under his arm again, “I don’t know why I thought that would be scarier.”

He sighs, his smile faltering but still fond, “Past experiences and self perception complicate the anxiety around sex and intimacy. It’s a natural response based on your lived experiences.”

“Oh.” you mutter, slight deject in your tone.

“But we can work on it, if you want.” he adds, “It’s all up to you with what you’re comfortable with and how you want to do it. If you’ll allow me, I’d love to help you in any way I can, angel.”

You really don’t know how you got so lucky. Someone so kind, and patient, and willing to be with you as you navigate these things you normally would have kept to yourself. You feel grateful to be able to bare a piece of yourself to him, and know that he would receive it with open arms, wrapping it up and handling it with as much care as he can bear.

You cuddle closer, and mumble before your eyes succumb to sleep, “Love you. So much.”

Spencer looks down maybe two seconds later and you’re already out like a light. He chuckles softly to himself and whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl. Good night.”

[cutielando]

my little engineer | o.p.

synopsis: in which Oscar falls in love with a McLaren engineer

a/n: based on this request! the timeline does not really follow the actual season, i just went along with what came to my head

my masterlist

The air buzzed with the energy of the Formula 1 paddock.

Even on a quiet Thursday afternoon, there was a constant undercurrent of urgency, the kind that kept everyone on their toes.

You were no exception to the rule.

As a McLaren engineer, your days were filled with analyzing data, fine-tuning setups, and making sure that the cars were in peak condition. The team’s fortunes often hinged on decisions made in rooms like the ones you were currently in, surrounded by monitors and endless cups of coffee.

You had been with McLaren for 2 years now, your main focus being on aerodynamics. The team had offered to hire you while you were still studying your degree, mainly because of how brilliant your mind was.

Your job was to squeeze every ounce of performance out of the car, translating theoretical possibilities and what-ifs into tangible speed and a sea of accomplishments.

Currently, you were busy reviewing wind tunnel data when a shadow fell across your desk.

Looking up, you saw Oscar standing there, a curious expression in his face. He was dressed casually, but the unmistakable sharpness of a driver’s focus radiated off of him.

“Hey” he said, his soft Australian accent cutting through the silence.

“Hi, Oscar” you greeted him, giving him a small smile.

“Do you have a moment? I wanted to ask you about the changes to the front wing design we made today” he asked, his eyes darting across your desk.

He could see that you were busy, but he couldn’t help himself. Ever since he had joined the team, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was impressed by your knowledge and experience at just 21, basically his age, and he found himself blushing and stuttering every time he would talk to you.

He was acting like a love-sick puppy.

"Of course, take a seat" you said as you gestured to the chair next to you, straightening up in your chair.

Despite only being in his rookie year, Oscar's performance had been nothing short of remarkable. And you also couldn't deny that you took a small, secret liking to the young Aussie driver.

"Can you explain to me, again, what changes we made exactly?" Oscar asked, having sat down next to you.

"Yeah, we've made some adjustments to the endplates in order to better improve airflow around the tires. It should help with high-speed cornering stability" you explained, pointing to the data on one of the monitors.

Oscar leaned in, his eyebrows furrowed as he took in what you were saying and what he was seeing on the screens.

"How does that affect the balance? Will it make the rear feel lighter?" he asked, scratching his chin.

"Slightly, yes. But we've made sure to compensate with some tweaks to the diffuser. It will feel different, but once you adjust, you should find it predictable and reliable" you explained.

He nodded, his expression thoughtful.

"I see. I get it now, thanks Y/N" he said, giving you a small smile.

You smiled back, patting him on the shoulder.

"Anytime, Oscar. Let me know how the car feels after FP1 and we can make some more tweaks if it's necessary" you said.

Oscar nodded and gave you one last smile before heading out. You watched him go, noticing the quiet confidence with which he held himself, even as he walked.

There was something about him that intrigued you, a mix of his determination to become the best and his calm, almost reserved personality and demeanor.

Something you definitely wanted to explore.

But for now, you shook the thoughts away, getting back to work before you could spiral into something else.

Into something more dangerous.

♡♡♡♡♡

Over the next few weeks, your interactions with Oscar became more and more frequent.

Whether it was in the garage, during debriefs, or even in the cafeteria, he often sought you out to discuss details about the car.

At first, everything was purely professional. Mostly technical questions, feedback on changes to the setup, and maybe the occasional joke to lighten up the mood.

But gradually, the conversations began to shift.

“So, how did you end up in F1?” he asked one evening, leaning against the workbench as you adjusted a model component.

You froze for a second but quickly regained your composure, a little surprised at the personal question.

“Well, I’ve always loved racing. My dad used to take me to local karting events when I was little. I wasn’t much of a driver, though, but I was really curious about the whole mechanism behind the cars. I got into university and McLaren hired me while I was still studying” you explained.

Oscar’s eyes lit up with interest as you spoke.

“Wow, you must have one hell of a brain, then” he said, making you laugh and blush.

You shrugged, not wanting to gloat.

“I guess they saw something in me, I don’t really know. I’m just grateful I have this opportunity” you said, giving him a smile.

He smiled back, his eyes twinkling.

“It’s good that we have you here with us. We wouldn’t get far without you” he said, his voice softer now.

“It’s a team effort, really, but thank you” you said, your cheeks now an angry shade of red.

Oscar smiled and nodded, and his eyes lingered on you for a second too long. You looked away, your eyes now focused on the task at hand, trying to hide the sudden flutter in your stomach and in your chest.

Damn you, Oscar.

♡♡♡♡♡

As the season progressed, the dynamic between you and Oscar continued to deepen.

He’d stop by your workstation far more often than was necessary, most of the times just to have a chat with you.

You found yourself looking forward to his visits, your butterflies being swarmed with butterflies whenever you would see him approach you. And even though you tried to keep things strictly professional, there were small, fleeting moments than hinted at just something more.

Like the time he brought you coffee during a particularly tough and difficult race weekend, completely taking you by surprise.

“Here, thought you might need this” he said, setting down the cup of coffee in front of you.

Startled, you raise your eyebrows, but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks” you said, looking down at the cup to notice that he had not only brought you coffee, but he brought your favorite type of coffee. “How did you know I like it black?”

Oscar smiled and shrugged.

“I pay attention” was the only thing that he said before he turned and walked away, leaving you staring after him.

Another instance was when he had caught you off guard with a genuine compliment after a tougher free practice session.

“You’re really good at what you do, you know. The car feels incredible because of you” he said, trying to comfort you after the tough debrief.

You’d brushed it off as you always did, trying to pass everything as team effort.

But the sincerity and gentleness of his voice stayed with you long after that.

Maybe a little too long.

♡♡♡♡♡

Monza.

It was during a rain-soaked qualifying session that the tension between the two of you reached an all-time high.

The team had completely gambled on a whole-new setup, a very risky one at that, and the stakes were higher than they ever were in the championship battle.

You were sitting in the garage with your headphones on, monitoring the data as Oscar ventured out on the slippery track.

“How’s the car, Oscar?” Tom, his race engineer, asked him over the radio.

“A bit twitchy, but it’s manageable” his voice crackled over the radio.

You leaned forward over the computer, your heart in your throat as you watched his sector times closely.

Even though the setup was still rocky, he was pushing hard, managing to find the limits and extract the most out of his lap times with every lap.

When the session finished and he crossed the line securing a spot on the second row, the whole garage erupted into loud cheers.

Everyone was hugging everyone, congratulating you on the proposed setup (a gamble, really) and how well it had played out in the end.

Oscar returned a few minutes later, drenched but grinning widely.

His eyes found yours almost instantly, and you couldn’t help but give him a wide smile back.

“Nice work out there” you said as he stopped in front of you.

“Couldn’t have done it without you” he replied, his voice warm and soft.

For a moment, the noise of the garage faded away into the distance, and it was just the two of you there, standing in the middle of the chaos.

Just the two of you.

Later that night, the team had decided to go out and celebrate the amazing qualifying session.

You found yourself sitting at the quieter end of the table with Oscar. The conversation between the two of you flowed effortlessly, moving from racing all the way to hobbies and childhood stories.

You learned that he loved cooking, had an embarrassingly extensive collection of movie soundtracks and missed the Australian benches.

“What about you? What do you do when you’re not making our cars faster?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you.

You laughed, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not much, to be honest. Work keeps me pretty busy. But I like hiking when I get the chance. It’s nice to unplug and just be with the nature for a little while, away from all the chaos and noise” you said.

He nodded thoughtfully, seemingly hanging onto your every word.

“Sounds peaceful. I haven’t hiked in a long time. Maybe I should start again” he said.

“You should. It’s a great way to clear your head” you said, your lips twitching into a small smile.

The evening stretched on, the line between you and Oscar becoming more blurred with each passing moment.

By the time you left the restaurant, walking side by side under the streetlights of Italy, you felt warmth in your chest at the feeling of him being next to you.

A warmth that had nothing to do with the wine you’d had.

♡♡♡♡♡

The slow burn continued as the season went on.

There were stolen moments in the garage, quiet conversations during long flights and shared smiles that spoke volumes. But neither of you made the step, neither crossed the line.

Not yet, anyways.

But the unspoken tension hung heavily in the air, growing stronger and stronger with each passing day.

And it all came to a head in Abu Dhabi, the final race of the season.

After a very hard-fought battle Oscar had managed to finish on the podium, his best result of the season yet. The team celebrated late into the night, the culmination of months of effort and sacrifice finally paying off.

You found yourself on the balcony of the hotel, the cool desert breeze brushing against your skin.

Oscar joined you a few minutes later, a drink in his hand and a soft smile on his face.

“Couldn’t handle the noise anymore?” he asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

“Something like that. It’s been a long season, I’m exhausted” you said, chuckling.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“It has. But I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without you” he said.

You turned to him, your heart skipping a beat at the fire in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Oscar…”

“No, let me say this. You’ve been there for me through everything. You’ve pushed to be better weekend after weekend, supported me when things got tough and the car was shit. I don’t think I’d still be here if it weren’t for you” his voice was firm, like there was no room for you to contradict him.

“I was just doing my job” you said, your voice soft as your breath caught in your throat.

Oscar shook his head, determined to make you see exactly what he was feeling.

“It’s more than that. You mean more to me than just…this. I know we’ve got a million reasons why this wouldn’t work, but i can’t pretend I don’t feel this anymore” he said, his eyes boring into yours.

The vulnerability in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered, all combined shattered every doubt you’d had.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your hand brushing against his softly.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it for months, but I don’t want to do it anymore” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curved into a soft smile, and before you could overthink anything, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt as natural as breathing.

The world faded away, leaving only the two of you under the starry Abu Dhabi sky. Months of pining and unspoken tension culminated in a simple kiss, fireworks erupting into every part of your body.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a content sigh escaping his lips.

“So, where do we go from here?” you asked, your voice tinged with both excitement and uncertainty.

“One step at a time” he said, his fingers intertwining with yours. “As long as it’s with you, I’m happy”

And in that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you’d face them together.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[cute-little-fly]

I love Vassago and want more of him.

That aside.

What could it be?

1. They could be family. After all, they are kinda physically similar and Stella and Andrealphus are brothers and are different kind of birds but similar. Their powers are also similar, Vassago can make light and stars, Stolas is rocks and that star sky thing. So, yeah, that checks.

2. Vassago is Stolas fan for some reason. I added this because I think is funny if Vassago has some kind of one sided parasocial fan thing for Stolas. The confused look of Stolas and the rest of the Goetias when Vassago was hyping Stolas is the only reason I thought about this.

3. Distant crush from younghood but he knew Stolas was arranged to marry and didn’t knew S is gay, so he gave up on that but still has him in high regard and think he deserves to be heard.

4. Distanced friends in high school years (I know they probably don’t go but in royalty they probably have things to prepare young royals).

While I think all these theories people say are interesting… I think that they don’t know each other very well. Similar to how Asmodeus and Stolas adressed themselves. Like, they know each other and have mutual respect but that’s it. They could be close family: brother, cousin or very distanced friends of the past. I would see something happening and maybe Andrealphus getting in the way and preventing them to be friends.

My interpretation and theories about the trial:

Vassago felt identified with the situation itself, and is not just because he is close to Stolas.

I think this because:

Stolas has been very lonely his entire life. However we don’t know anything from his teen years or his early adulthood. So, it could be that in those years they met but I don’t think they were ever close friends, but they caused a good impression to the other.

Stolas is kinda shocked when Vassago says: “ Yes yes Cántalo baby”. I don’t know if he reached like that because of how unexpected the hyping was, or because he doesn’t know him much? I found hilarious he is such a Stolas hype man.

Vassago is very concerned when Blitzø is sentenced to death. He is not as sad and devastated after Stolas lies and confesses, but he is worried and feels something is very wrong.

I feel this moment is very important

This is not brought up much, but he looks very conflicted about this entire situation. If he believed Blitzø trully wanted to murder Stolas and steal the Grimoire he wouldn’t have look so conflicted, and the thing is, he won’t believe anything until he hears Stolas.

This shows:

He thinks the trial should be fair and have both parts.

He thinks Stolas has another different story.

He doesn’t have the same race biases than the rest of the people in the jury and the other Goetias. (Not saying that he is super deconstructed, but at least, has less biases than most).

I will focus in this last point.

The other two people that spoke were Ozzie and Bee. Two people that are romantically involved with lower class demons, and well, obviously Stolas lol.

This could mean that Vassago had a past relationship with an imp or other class demon. This would follow the trend of all the people that spoke and said something.

Also, I have been thinking about this, but Vassago es seemingly a pirate. Piracy besides being related to Stolitz and treasures, is also related to travel far away and leave societal expectations. Is an environment when he could have had a secret partner and nobody would easily know about it if he travels a lot.

The traveling would also explain why he probably is mostly far away and Stolas doesn’t seem him very often.

Apparently Viv has liked a tweet about Vassago seeming to care so much for Stolas, and that it feels personal. And yeah, it does indeed feel personal. It really does make me wonder, why is it so personal to Vassago? What’s his relationship with Stolas?

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SIXTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd @lupinqs

warnings long chapter (9.3k words), sexual content (fucking filth, you’re welcome!)

kalena speakss 🪽! i’m so so sorry for the wait, i’ve been lazy and also interrupted multiple times while writing. anyways, there’s nothing i’ve enjoyed writing, more than paige and maraye’s story. so, i thank you guys for all the support since it’s dropped and all the interactions and comments and anons, y’all truly make me laugh. i have an epilogue and around two bonus chapters planned so be on the look out for those. i’d love some live reactions to this one if you guys are up for it! anyway enjoy the finale with my babies, i put pen to paper for this one!

July 2025 — Indianapolis, Indiana

“You can’t answer your phone now?”

“Pa—”

“My girl just treatin’ me like I’m chopped damn liver.”

“Pai—”

“Who you with?”

“Paige!” I finally cut in, shaking my head and tapping the FaceTime button on the screen. “Shut up for a second, and pick up.” I groan.

The sound of the call connecting, finally comes through, and I can’t help but press the photo button when I see her, all laid out on her hotel bed with an arm behind her head. Her face is flushed, hair slightly sweating from her first All-Star practice. A pout graces her lips and her eyes squint as she scowls.

“Hi.” I grin.

“What’s so important that you can’t answer my calls?” She asks again, staring at me intensely through the screen.

I roll my eyes at her eagerness. Our plane landed early that morning, and after getting checked in at our respective hotels, Paige had practice and I went out to do some shopping. “I’m tryna find an outfit for our date.” I explain, looking over at the girls next to me who attempt to help me out.

“You by yourself?” She asks. Her eyebrows furrow, and knowing Paige, I know she’s pissed that I didn’t ask her to come with me. 

I shake my head, panning the camera to reveal both Nika and Azzi next to me. I’m not sure how this came about, but a few texts and an invitation later the two were joining me at the mall. 

“You didn’t tell us that Raye looked this good in person!” Nika speaks into the phone. I cover the lower half of my face with my hand, an attempt to hide my growing blush. 

“And for good reason.” The blonde replies before turning her attention towards me. “Baby, you ignorin’ me to hang out with them? That’s how you feelin’?”

I’ve spent the last hour and a half understanding why Nika and Azzi were Paige’s best friends. They were involved, and not in that nagging annoying way, they cared. They cared about Paige and wanted to keep her happy. Which in turn, meant they cared about my business with the woman.

I laugh at Paige, my attention still not fully on her as I assume she’d want. “I’m not ignoring you. I need to find an outfit, blondie.”

“Y’know you could wear a trash bag and I’d still wanna take you out, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Azzi sings into my ear. “But I will say, this one is perfect.” The girl says. Azzi holds up one of the two-piece sets I was yet to try.

“Girl you gotta try it on. I like it too.” Nika affirms.

Suddenly my phone is an afterthought. “Really? It’s not too casual?”

“Lemme see.”

“It’s Indiana. I promise this isn’t casual.” Azzi explains.

“Hellooo?”

“Your ass would look perfect in this skirt tho’. Wear this one!” Nika shakes the outfit on the hanger a little more harshly.

“Ight now I really need to see it.”

I look back and forth between the two women, both outfits fitting completely different vibes. The denim co-ord in Azzi’s hands would accentuate my hips and my tits, which Paige simply would fall out over. The black set in Nika’s hands might stop us from going out to dinner all together.

“P, what’s the dress code?” I turn back, looking down at her astonished face on my screen. Her lips slightly parted eyes blown wide.

“So know you remember I exist?” She teases.

I give her a tilt of my head, enough to let her know I want her to shut up. “Dress code, please?”

“Uh-I-I dunno. Nothin’ too fancy, nothin’ too casual.” Paige shrugs.

“Well whatchu wearin’?” I ask.

I know my choice of words should’ve been picked a bit better because Nika snickers beside me and Paige lets out a laugh, sending me that smirk of hers that makes my knees go a little bit weak in the store. 

“Ayo?” Paige jokes, covering her mouth with her palm.

“Paige Madison.”

“I’m wearin’ jeans!” She finally answers when her laughter dies down. “Jeans and a black tee, maybe a jacket. I dunno yet.”

I huff, looking back at the options the three of us have picked out. Paige was right, what I put on didn’t really matter. At least not as much as I thought it did. But this is our first date, my first date with a girl, with Paige— who isn’t just any girl. 

So I pick up the set in Nika’s hands, the black fabric running through my fingers. It is perfect. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Paige nods, her lips folding into a small grin. “Tonight.”

—

I run my hand anxiously down the side of my jeans, catching a glimpse of the white patchwork on the knees and taking a deep breath outside the door. I’m nervous. Which is a feeling I’m not very used to yet. 

In my entire 23 years of living, I think I’ve only ever been on three first dates. Two in high school and one in college with Nyla. Though, I don’t really think I could ever consider that a date.

Either way, the number was slim to none which left me with zero clue of what to expect tonight. Especially from Maraye.

She was unpredictable. Nothing about her ever completely the same. She kept me on my damn toes, which was great but also so confusing at the same time.

I knocked on the hotel door softly before digging my hands into the pockets of my Kith jacket. Along with my black baggy jeans, I threw on a simple black shirt and a jacket. She might’ve never said it out loud, but with the way she always looks at me when I wear it, I know that black is Raye’s favorite color on me. As is mine on her.

My fingers are decorated with silver rings. I have on two different chains, the first is a simple one with a cross and the second is my diamond 5 chain. I figured that a first date calls for pulling out all the stops. 

My stomach suddenly bubbles with anxiousness and my pulse is heard in my ears as I wait for her. This is it. Our first date, and the more I repeat it in my head, the more surreal it sounds.

I was right about not knowing what to expect with Raye, because I knew she’d look good but I wasn’t ready for her to look this damn good.

She wears this black two piece. The skirt is long and low waisted, giving me a view of the fine lines of her abdomen, a thin waist chain and a navel piercing, both gold that make my mouth water. The matching shirt falls off of her left shoulder, a velvet bunch of material that is ruched on her side. 

All Raye ever wears is gold, which doesn’t change now, her rings are thin bands, and there are bracelets adorning her wrists from Van Cleef and Louis Vuitton. She’s dripped down in it, and it makes her glow even more than normal. Her scent, Chanel no.5 as per usual, travels up to my nose and I swear I could pass out from getting my eyes on her alone.

“Goddamn, Miss Carter.”

“Gimme a second, sorry.” She laughs, a pure and bright laugh that makes my eyes go wide.

I clear my throat, nodding my head while shamelessly raking my eyes over her. “Got all dressed up for me, huh?” I say, taking Maraye’s invitation to enter her room, the door closing behind me.

She scoffs. “You fuckin’ wish.” And if it weren’t for the fact that I heard from her own mouth that this outfit was specifically for tonight, I would have believed her. “I look good tho’?”

I nod almost immediately, my head moving before I could really even process what she just asked me. Because she looks damn good. Not just her clothing, the fine lines of each of her tattoos are shown off by what she wears, and her hair is completely different from when I saw it just this morning. Her curls blown out and trailing down her shoulders. She looks like a fucking model.

“You look—fuck. Raye, are you serious? You look gorgeous, ma.” I say, still almost breathless. “Y’know, I actually brought sum for you.”

“Why?”

I laugh at her reaction. “I mean, your birthday was yesterday. I was supposed to give it to you at the house, but someone was tryna get in my pants all night.” Raye instantly breaks eye contact with me at that, eyes traveling to the ceiling.

I dig into my back pocket, grasping the thin box in my hand before showing it to her. It’s simple, a thin sleek white that looks perfect against her hands.

Maraye looks at me skeptically, her eyebrow raising before she darts her eyes down at the box. She pulls the lid off carefully and I watch her intensely. The way she pouts at the thin line of jewelry in the box. There’s a gold Angel pendant in the center. 

“Paige.” She starts, and her feet are moving in an instant. She brings an arm to my cheek cupping it before leaning into me and placing her lips on my other cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah? You like it?” I can feel my skin get hot and I lick my lips.

“Mmhmm. Love it, blondie.” Maraye nods, a grin spreading across her cheeks and I swear I see her blush just a little. “Imma wear it tonight.”

I can’t even hide my face, completely taken aback. “Y-you don’t have to. Really, it ain’t a big deal. If y’ont like it—”

“No. I do like it and I am wearing it.” She reaches down for my wrist, pulling me further into the hotel room. “Help me put it on.” Raye smiles, and just like that all my nerves are gone. Because she’s here, just like I want her to be. She’s all dressed up, saying all the right things, and smiling that smile that makes me forget that we do have places to be. 

I take the gold chain in my hands, raising my hands over her head and taking my spot directly behind her in the full length mirror. I clasp it, looking at how that pendant sits perfectly on the glistening hollow between her collarbones. 

“It’s perfect.” My arms settle around her waist, my chin in the crook of her neck. I watch her watch the two of us in the mirror, her fingers tracing over where it decorates her neck in gold. “It’s a cute angel.”

I hum and press my lips against the column of her neck. “My angel, yeah?” And I know I live for the way her face blushed at it. Her ears visibly reddening and her eyes darting away from me in the mirror.

Raye’s head turns to meet mine, her glossed lips immediately catching my attention as they curl upwards into a smile. Then she nods. A simple fucking nod that makes my entire body feel hot. We’re inches apart, I can see the gears in her head turning. I just know Raye thinks she’s slick, but I catch the way her eyes move down to my lips anyway.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” She murmurs, breaking our intense gaze with a slight stutter. I peel my arms off her waist and step back. She reaches for her purse, tossing the black YSL bag onto her shoulder and doing one last look over the room before looking back at me. 

All of a sudden the resolve I’ve attempted to have over the last 24 hours is out of the window. All I can think about is taking her right here, I don’t care about dinner. I care about the face she’d make under me, my name off her tongue, how fucking good I know she’d taste on mine. She looks like a dream, that fabric hugging every curve of that perfect—

“We’re gonna be late.” 

I lick my lips for what feels like the 50th time since I’ve been here. Stalking over to her, I immediately wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into me until I can feel her belly piercing pressing up against my abdomen.

“I’m makin’ you mine, the second dinner is over.” I mumble, my lips dangerously close to hers.

She’s enjoying this, the way I visibly go crazy for her. The way I stop holding back because frankly, I don’t think I have to anymore. Raye doesn’t have to say it, but the way she arches her body into mine and grips at my bicep lets me know it’s turning her on too. Or at least I’ll pretend it does.

“Coulda done it last night.” Raye shrugs. “Or this morning.” She says pointedly. Her other hand reaches for mine on her waist, tugging it off and pushing it to my side. She spins on her toes, placing one kitten heeled foot in front of the other as she reaches for the door. 

I don’t even wait a second before my hand meets her ass.

“Paige!”

“Ain’t no way you thought I wasn’t gonna do that at least once.” She frowns at me, stepping to the side of the open doorway and looking at me expectantly.

“Walk in front of me.”

“Ma—”

“In front. Go.” Raye grits through her teeth, and when she looks at me like that I know better than to ignore her. I step through the doorway, watching behind me as she shuts it behind her. “You’re so annoying.”

I don’t answer, rather sticking my hand, palm up, for her to take. And she does. It’s then when I know that this is where I’m supposed to be, with her holding my hand. It’s simple, but still I think it makes my body react like it never has before.

She interlocks her fingers with mine, the coolness of her rings press into the sides of my fingers. She’s smiling, again. I drag her behind me, trying to get used to the feeling of our hands together, but all it does is mess up my head more. 

“You look really pretty by the way.” She murmurs, her eyes are glued to the floor when I look at her. I know my hand is sweating as a reaction to her compliment, and I don’t know what to do besides muttering a ‘thank you’ with a cheeky smile. 

I know I’m fucked. All I’m thinking now is that I have to make it through dinner. That’s it.

Get through dinner.

—

When I look away from our waiter— who has just informed us that a mistake was made in the kitchen and that our appetizers would be on the house— and over at Paige, she’s rolling her eyes and taking a sip from the wine she hated, but still insisted on getting an entire bottle of. She did it to make me happy, of course, even though I insisted that it wasn’t an issue for her to get her beloved Shirley temple.

She’s kissing her teeth, setting down the wine glass before picking up a slice of focaccia bread and smearing it in butter. “We need a different waiter.”

I can’t help but laugh at her sudden statement. “You’re being dramatic.” I say, following suit in throwing some bread into my own mouth.

“He tryna fuck you.” She points at me. I find her jealousy and blatant vulgarity amusing, especially when our waiter had to be no older than 18 years old. 

I lick the crumb from the corner of my lips. “And how would you know that, Madison?”

“Bro was lookin’ at you how I look at you. And that’s sayin’ something.” She says loudly, as if it’s obvious. My eyes go wide as I attempt to get her to quiet down. Paige did a good job of getting us a secluded table. Throw in the soft jazz that played and the ambiance of the low light, she did wonderful at making dinner as romantic as she could.

But it was obvious that dealing with our waiter was not in her evening plans.

“Stop it, no he wasn’t.” I brush her off, reaching for my nearly empty first glass of wine. The scent travels through my nose, just barely adding to my growing tipsiness. 

“And you're just flirting back. Smilin’ all big and shit.” Paige groans. “Showing all 32 is crazy.”

Her adamant attitude makes me smile, “He works in service, I’m being nice!”

“Flirting.”

“That boy prolly hasn’t even graduated high school yet, Paige.” I roll my eyes.

“You’re flirting.”

“You just love arguing wimme, huh?” I ask, leaning on my elbows to peer into her eyes across the table. 

She grins, crossing her arms as she leans into me in the same way I am. “Were you not the one all hot and bothered by me yelling at you on the plane?”

I smirk at the memory. The way her eyes turned dark when I suggested she talk to me like that again. How she was so set on keeping her word but still fell victim to my antics on her lap. And I was so close to getting her how I wanted her if it hadn’t been for her fucking stubbornness.

“See that was me flirting.” I say, trying to get that event out of my head before I’m proving Paige right and getting all bothered again. 

She shakes her head at me, scratching at her top lip with her thumb. The blonde takes her attention off me when that waiter comes back with our food. My blackened salmon and shrimp glistened in the sauce it came with. Alongside Paige’s ribeye steak, mashed potatoes, and broccolini.

She took control of the conversation with ease, allowing him to set down our plates before refilling our glasses of wine. I didn’t even spare a glance at our waiter because in my head, I’m thinking that there isn’t a moment in the last few months where Paige has looked hotter to me than she does right now.

I’d like to think that her choice of all black was purposeful because she knows how I react to it, but everything else has me losing my train of thought every few seconds into our conversations and whatever else that boy is saying to the both of us. Her Rolex watch gleams in the light each time she moves, the same with the diamonds of her 5 chain and earrings. Paige’s hair is slicked back into a bun that, outside of her wearing it down, might be my favorite style of hers.

I watch her intently, each movement of her fingers and arms. The way she licks her lips. Even the fake smile she gives to the waiter. Her fingers wrap around her glass, raising it slightly and tipping it towards my own. It’s then when I realize I’ve been doing nothing but staring and that I should probably follow suit.

“Be more slick next time.” Paige chuckles, our glasses finally clinking together. Her lips are just slightly glossed, a mixture of a sheer pink that makes them look even more beautiful than they already are when they touch the glass.

I take a heady gulp of my wine before reaching for my fork and knife, collecting them in one hand and draping the black cloth they came in over my lap. “Says the one who been staring at my tits all night, thinkin’ I didn’t notice.”

Paige tries to hide the face she makes, she really does. But when mine finally meet her blues, she folds almost immediately, swiping a hand over her chin and licking her lips with a gentle laugh. 

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

I look down at my plate while Paige does the same, my mouth heavily watering when I get a glimpse of my food, but even more when I see Paige’s plate.

“Madisonnnn.” I sing. My recent abuse of her middle name has made her smile all night, but this time she doesn’t. Mostly because she knows exactly what I’m asking for.

She shakes her head, preparing to cut her medium-rare steak, “absolutely not.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“C’mon, just one bite.” I pout, hoping that it does what it normally does, and that is get her to crack.

She cuts a bite of the steak making sure to swipe it against the garlic butter on the plate before feeding it to herself. “You haven’t even tried your salmon yet, angel.”

On instinct I run my heel against her inner calf, moving it up higher until it’s up against her thigh. Paige’s eyes snapped to mine and I stuck out my lip, playfully batting my eyelashes at her. 

“Please, baby?” I murmur softly. The pet name feels foreign on my tongue, not just because It’s my first time saying it in reference to Paige. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I’ve used it at all.

She swallows her steak and I watch her hand travel under the table. Paige gives me that fucking smirk, gripping my ankle and holding it in place against her lap to stop my antic. “Try your food first.” 

I tug my ankle away from her and drop it to the floor, huffing before taking a bite of my perfectly seasoned salmon.

“How is it?” Paige asks, tapping a finger against the edge of the table.

I let the food melt on my tongue, “it’s amazing.” I mumble, following it with a sip of wine.

Paige nods in approval, cutting a piece of her steak as she did once before. She dangles the fork in my face like a dog with a toy. “C’mere, mama.”

I smile, not even bothering to hide it from her as I lean in some more, taking the bite she offered and letting the fork teasingly linger in my mouth. 

“Good?”

I dance in my seat. “Good. I think mine tastes better tho’.”

And Paige rolls her eyes. Scooting backwards from me and getting back to eating. Happily getting her own playful revenge on me as she does so.

—

“You were what?” I ask, nearly choking on air as I laugh.

I sit on the edge of my hotel bed, foot bouncing eagerly as I talk to Raye through the wall that separates the main room from the bathroom in which she entered the second I got the door open. I’m guessing the multiple glasses of wine was a bad idea for the both of us. Especially tonight, because I’m going crazy now that it’s just me and her.

I’m supposed to be all ears to our conversation, to her telling me about her nerdy high school endeavors. And I am finding amusement at every bit. 

Then, each time I blink, I’m thinking about her in that skirt. How her ass sits perfectly in it. The glistening glow of her waist chain on the perfectly defined abdomen, the curves of her hips. 

I can hear her groan over my laugh, before the water of the sink begins running. “Theater, Paige. I did theater. Quit laughing, you idiot!” She yells out.

“You were a thespian? Like for real?” 

The water cuts off, and her heels click against the bathroom tile before muffling against the carpet. Raye’s hips sway as she approaches me, 

“You were a lesbian jock. And you still are, so shut up.” The grits, slipping the heels off her feet and standing between my legs. Her words don’t even click in my head, all my attention is on her.

I reach my hands up to her thighs, gripping them through the fabric. “Put on a show for me then.”

“That was the best line you could come up with?” Raye asks, a laugh freeing itself from her throat. Her hands tugged mine off of her body, leaving my palms cold from her absence.

“You tellin’ me you got something better?”

“Mmhmm.”

When she steps back I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven. Slowly, Raye pulls that black top off of her head, showing off her gorgeous, navy, lace bra. It cups her tits just right, complementing the brown of her skin and the gold of her jewelry so good I wanna rip the rest of those clothes off.

“‘Member what you said last night? Teach you and you’ll teach me, or whatever?” She breathes. I just nod again, reaching forward for Raye’s hip. 

She smirks, sending my entire body into orbit. I’m soaked through my boxers and my jeans, completely enthralled by the way she looks before me. 

Raye bores those perfect brown eyes into mine while she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt. “Wanna teach me sum then?” She tells me. I should’ve known that we couldn’t go more than five minutes in this room together before I was wanting to fuck her raw. Slow and deep and carnal and fucking raw. Wanting to give her everything that she’s never had before. 

I shoot up to my feet, watching her skirt pool on the floor. She steps out of it, rolling her neck up to look at me through her lashes. 

My eyes gaze over her body once more, how the lace on her hips clings to them. Her hair, bombshell curls— that I still don’t think I really ever got over— flipped over to one side and tattoo’s that decorated her skin in that perfect ink. 

“I've been tryna take my time with you.” I groan, running a palm over my chin, “makin’ this shit so hard.”

She catches me by surprise when she throws her arms around my neck, arching her chest towards my face. The line of her cleavage is even more defined by the simple moment.

“Teach me.”

I take a breath. “On everything, I ain’t stopping when I start.”

“Teach. Me.”

—

I swear Paige is kissing me before I can even finish my words. Lips on my harsh and certain. The first time, she was so delicate; like she was trying to figure me out. The second time was desperate, and I’m sure if it wasn’t for us getting interrupted she would’ve turned me out in the studio that night. The third time was like a goodbye. Short and sweet, but full of everything we were yet to say.

This one? It’s like oxygen after drowning. Maybe it was all the strain we’ve been feeling since our fight, or all the sexual tension that we’ve been tiptoeing around over the last 24 hours. But I feel like I’m floating, like her hands that dig into my hips let me become one with the sky as her lips dance on mine.

Paige tastes like perfection. Not anything I can specifically point out except for the wine and the slight sweetness from our shared Oreo cheesecake. 

I pull back, breaking the suction of our lips. She eyes the line of saliva that connects us, and I know it turns her on because Paige doesn’t even bother licking it away. She just brings me back, sliding her hands to my ass and gripping it as she entangles our tongues.

I suck on her hers sloppily, feeling myself grow wetter when she moans into the kiss. My hands cup her jaw angling my head just right so I can get more of her, more of anything.

In a swift movement she’s throwing off her jacket, the sound of it crashing to the floor muffled by the sound of our kisses. She’s turning me over, backing me towards the bed until I hit the foot of it. Paige lays me down, her action so gentle compared to the way she digs into my hips. 

All of a sudden I’m hyper aware of it all. Of how I’m standing here in nothing but carefully picked lingerie, letting Paige fucking Bueckers kiss me within an inch of my life. How desperate I must seem for her, but she doesn’t care, equally as needy for me. 

“Mine all fuckin’ night.” She murmurs on my lips, pulling away to lick her own as we both catch our breath. The coolness of her chain drags against my clavicle, making me gasp into her. Paige shakes her head, looking at me like she can’t even believe I’m real, before tilting my head with her hand at my jaw. Her lips attached to the line of it. “Gon’ fuck you till you can’t take it.”

I’m nodding, cupping her head to hold her there. I search her hair for the hair tie that holds her bun together, finding it and tugging her locks free so it falls down her shoulders. Paige kisses her way down my neck, finding my sweet spot almost too easily. 

My other hand darts under her shirt to tug at the waistband of her jeans, moaning breathlessly when she sucks on that spot right where my neck meets the top of my chest. “Fuck.” I groan, deciding that the quicker I get these clothes off, the quicker I get to leave her bed a fucking mess. “Take this shit off, P. Now.”

I tug at the hem of her black shirt and Paige pulls back from me, lips swollen and wet, to ruck her shirt off and toss it on the floor. I trail my eyes over her body; muscular shoulders tanned from the sun of summer, sports bra clad to her chest, line of her abs and that obvious V that leads down into her pants.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

She cages me in with her arms, which flex at every subtle movement. Paige starts with the kissing again, first with a bite to my earlobe before she trails lower and lower. Over the tattoo down the side of my neck, until she meets my chest. “You so perfect, angel.”

I hum, feeling myself get wetter and wetter with each word she says. “Paige.”

“Mm?” She purrs, looking up at me with her lips attached to the swell of my breast.

“Been—mmph— been wantin’ you for months, baby. Stop teasing and fuck me.” I stutter, allowing my fingers to tangle in her long blonde locks. 

Paige curls her arm under my body, grounding my hips with one hand and unclipping my bra with the other. It comes easy for her, and my mind briefly travels to that place where I’m wondering how many girls she’s had to have done this to for it to be that simple. She peels my bra down my arms, tossing it behind her as well. The way she looks at me, like I’m prey, makes me realize I don’t fucking care. I can’t care, not when it’s just me and her.

“I gotchu, baby. I do, jus’ lay back.” Paige says. She licks up the center of my body before turning her head to lick at my nipple, swirling her tongue around it messily. She wraps her lips around it, sucking on my tit like it’s a pacifier. “So fine. Shit unreal.” 

She does the same to my other breast, squeezing the flesh in her hand, biting at my nipple. She’s nasty. As I expected her to be, with the way she’s been acting since I met her. But this, the worshiping of my body is something I’ve never had before. With anyone.

Paige trails sloppy kisses down my torso, leaving hickeys on my stomach that I know I’m going to have to cover up in order to wear my outfit tomorrow.

She gets settled between my legs, trailing her nose against the hem of my panties. “Need this pussy, ma. Needa taste you.” She bites at the lace, snapping it against my inner leg and I whimper.

Her thumb curls into them, being slow and gentle with the way she tugs the clothing down my legs. “This okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” I nod, lifting my hips to aid her. “So okay.”

In response she grins at me, kissing across my pelvis down to my inner thighs. Her eyes glued to mine, blues dark with how wide her pupils have dilated, before they dart between my legs to my soaked cunt. “Fuck, Raye.” She groans, pressing her thumb to my clit.

“P, I need—”

“No fuckin’ way you been keepin’ this from me.” Paige shakes her head in disbelief, kissing my thigh softly. “Gonna make it mine, baby. I swear.” 

She’s leaning in at that, running her tongue up through my folds with the softest lick that makes my eyes roll instantly. I toss my head onto the pillows, letting her grip my inner thighs as she speeds up. 

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ incredible, mama. So sweet.” Paige groans, lapping at my cunt like she hasn’t eaten in ages. Her lips wrapping around my clit, tongue running on the underside of it. She’s a fucking pro, garnering reactions that I’ve never had before.

My fingers grip the sheets beside me, back arching off the bed. “God, P. F—uck!” I croak, my moans coming out louder and louder as she eats me dry. “Shit, baby.”

Paige’s free hand is reaching for mine, releasing the sheets from my grip and replacing it with her own. She interlaces my fingers and that’s when I shoot up, looking down at her with my jaw slack. 

I watch her, my wetness coating her mouth and the tip of her nose, her tongue licking up and down my folds and teeth nipping at my clit gently. It makes me mewl, her name and curses of pleasure the only thing I can give her. 

She was sloppy—messy and unrefined in a way that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Paige’s mouth was nothing like the careful precision I had expected from her. Instead, it’s driven by pure want, a raw, desperate hunger that has my legs trembling around her head and my hips bucking into her mouth.

She has me feeling nothing but wanted. Wanted and wanted and wanted.

Paige pulls back for air, biting at her lips that are completely covered in my slick. She spits on me with nothing but filth. Watching as the trail slips past the folds of my cunt and past my asshole, she blows on it, the cool air making me shudder and squeeze her hand even harder. 

“Oh! Keep going, baby. I can take it.” I groan, pulling her closer to my throbbing pussy.

“Gon’ take it just for me?” 

“For you, P. Just for you.” 

She suckles on my clit once more, “could die eating you, baby. Just fuckin’ perfect, Raye.” She pants. 

“Fuck,” I breathe, my head tipping back as Paige nudges her teeth around my clit, sucking hard, pinning her palm to my hips to hold me steady. “Paige, you—oh my God—”

Paige hums against my pussy, and the vibration sends a jolt of pleasure through me that makes me cry out, my hips bucking again. 

I can’t decide which was more overwhelming—the relentless pressure of her mouth, her eyes staring up at me, or the sheer dedication she put into it, like nothing else in the world mattered but getting me off.

Then her warm tongue was dipping into me for a second, fucking into me with precision, curling up in search of my spot. My hand flies to her hair, tugging the soft locks between my fingers, holding her face between my legs for a second. My legs shake warningly, that knot in my abdomen feels like it’s seconds away from snapping.

“You’re so fuckin’ good at this,” I manage, my voice breaking on the words as Paige’s eyes flutter shut while she all but made out with my cunt. “How are you so—shit—so good at this?”

Her chuckle vibrates through me, and the blonde pulls back to apply pressure to my clit with her fingers, licking her lips clean. “Ion think you want me to answer that, ma.”

She doesn’t even look at me, simply scissoring my folds apart and diving back into me. She’s right, I don’t want to know, so I let myself fall into her skilled tongue. My control slips, the confident front I’ve been trying to keep all day slipping into vulnerability. 

I gasp, squeezing her hand as tight as I could. My eyes roll once again, “P, I’m gonna—”

“Cum in my mouth, pretty,” Paige moans into me, her voice muffled but insistent, large and veiny hand pressing into my hip to keep me in place.

The words sent me tumbling over the edge. My entire body tensing and back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashes over me, pulling a strangled moan from her lips. I swear the world went white for a moment, every nerve in my body alight with sensation. Paige laps it all up, my cum pooling on her tongue.

She fucks me through it, her tongue slowing down and sucking coming to a stop. When Paige looks at me, hair all mussed and lips swollen, chains and earrings still dancing in the light— I decide right there that this is actually the hottest she’s ever looked. All decorated in the aftermath of my sex. Looking like this for me.

She licks her lips clean before kissing from my thighs up my abdomen. She licks at my navel, tugging my piercing between her teeth. 

Paige continues up my body, suckling on the inside of my breast until another hickey forms, dark purple against the brown of my skin. “I’m gonna be livin’ between your legs from now on. Fuckin’ perfect.” She grins, leaning up to attach our lips.

I groan against her lips, pulling my hand away from hers to unbuckle the belt that holds her jeans. “You’re so good.” I praise, popping open the button on them. 

“Fuck you good?” She responds, helping me out and tugging down her jeans and her boxers simultaneously. “Needa feel you on me. Need that shit.”

I break the kiss, feeling my heart beat so harsh in my chest. I curl my fingers into the band of her bra, and Paige raises her arms to help me get it off. 

My eyes immediately fall to her chest, her supple tits and pink nipples. She’s breathtaking, and I want nothing more to wrap my lips around them and suck. I trail to her abs, practically shocked that a woman could look this fucking amazing in front of me. They dip even lower to her cunt which is positively soaked. 

I can’t help but grin because I know it’s all for me. “Come get it, baby.”

Before I know it Paige wraps her arms around my hips, mirroring my smile as she flips us over settling her back against the headboard as I straddle her.

It’s right then when I get to see all of her. Legs spread apart for me, so fucking wet that I swear we’re both about to leave this bed a dripping mess. Her thighs are so damn muscular.

I let my mind drift to what it would feel like riding them.

Paige grips my thighs, throwing my right leg over hers and slotting our legs together. My eyes go wide, watching my legs tremble with I don’t know what. Nervousness, excitement, arousal. 

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else, I promise.” Paige looks up at me with crystalline blue eyes. Her hand running up and down my thigh, the other gripping my side and trailing her thumb over my rib tattoo.

“No, I want to.” I brush her off, looking down at how our cunts are slotted together, inches away from touching. 

Paige bites her lip, running a hand back to grip my ass and tug me closer. “Put that pussy on me then. Ride me, ma.” She instructs.

I’m nearly falling out at the raunchiness of her words. I’d be an idiot to not listen to her, especially when she looks at me like I’m a piece of meat.

I grip the edge of the headboard with one hand, the other gripping her shoulder as I roll my hips down to meet her cunt. I gasp at how fucking soaked she is against me. “Oh fuck, P.” I stutter, feeling her clit press up against me.

“You’re so damn pretty, Raye. Fuck— oh my God.” Paige’s head hits the headboard, a moan tumbling past her lips. Loud, and it’s easily the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard. “Look how fuckin’ wet you get for me, soakin’ me up, baby.”

Her hands grip my hips, forcing my hips back and forth against her, grinding my cunt against her in the exact rhythm she wants. 

“Oh. Oh—mmph—yeahhhh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” I whine, feeling that tension in my stomach, already overstimulated from my last orgasm.

Paige meets me halfway, bucking her hips up at me and I feel that inevitable connection that comes with the throb of her clit. “Shit. Shit, ma! This pussy fuckin’ perfect, baby.”

She’s matching my rhythm, fucking me back with fervent bucks of her hips. My nails dig into her shoulders, darting my head down to look at where we connected.

I’ve never in my life felt something this good before. It’s so intimate. The way she holds me and talks to me and feels every little thing that I’m feeling too. I don’t want to stop, I want to keep going, laying up with her all fucking night if I could.

“P—aige! ‘S so good, baby.” 

“Fuck!” She shouts. “So close. You’re doin’ fuckin’ amazing baby.” Paige encourages. She sends a slap to my ass and I keep going for that feeling. That look of euphoria and approval that makes me wanna ride her better and harder and faster. 

I’m louder than I’ve ever been before, growing closer and closer to that peak. “So wet, P.” I hiccup, my eyes glued to the wetness between the both of us, how I’m damn near slipping from how much she’s giving me.

“I know. Can hear it, angel.” Paige moans, digging her nails into the skin of my ass. “So messy, huh? Just creamin’ for me, Raye. Gonna make me cum.” 

“Baby.” I cry, throwing my head back as that same feeling from earlier returns. I think I might explode.

She reaches for my neck, squeezing her hand around my throat and I’m losing concentration. It’s so hard to stay focused when she’s choking me like that, pulling my attention back to her and her fucked out face. If it wasn’t for the pleasure I felt in my core I could’ve probably come from that alone.

“Gimme one.” She groans. “Cum with me, ma. Need that shit. Need that cum all over my pussy. We almost there, c’mon.”

“Oh my— fuck. Fuck!” A scream rips through my throat, and I’m following through, clutching my hand on hers around my neck. Paige’s mouth falls open, pretty, high pitched cries leaving her lips as we finish together. I think both of us saw stars.

I can’t even control the sounds that leave me, mewls and cries and curses that make me mimic a damn sailor. Between the both of us, I can only hope we don’t run into anyone else on her hotel floor because if they didn't hear me before, they definitely heard us just now. 

My legs shake and the second Paige releases my neck I’m trembling into her hold, feeling light-headed after drowning in pleasure like that. She wraps her arms around my waist, nestling her lips against my cheek as I catch my breath.

I can feel her heart beating against mine, her breathing mimicking my own. Her body is so warm against me, it’s a feeling that I never want to get rid of. I think I could spend the rest of forever like this, holding me and kissing me just like this.

I don’t even dare move my legs away from hers. Instead, I turn my head, kissing her in a suffocating kiss that she whimpers into before kissing me back, licking at my tongue and gripping my ass. 

“We’re doing that all the time, baby. Holy shit.” I sigh. Paige chuckles into my mouth, biting my lip and tugging it back.

She just knows exactly how to get me worked up, how to get my heart racing, my mind running in laps, and my cunt dripping for her. 

“Jus’ wait. Got so much more to teach you.”

—

“Swear, Imma knock you up one day.” I grumble in Raye’s ear, running my free hand over her tits and the hickeys I’ve made sure to leave there all night. She might have to wear a turtleneck to the All-Star game tomorrow night because there’s no way she’s gonna be able to cover them all.

She probably takes me for a joke. Which is fine. But in my head, if you got rid of all the anatomical inaccuracies that would make it physically impossible, I am certain that the way she’s been making me feel all night is more than enough for me to fuck her dumb and get her pregnant with my kid. That’s how fucking good she’s been.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits. Swear.” I sigh in disbelief. Maraye is gorgeous. Has been since the second I laid eyes on her through the TV. Gorgeous in sweats and a stained t-shirt, in a floor length gown, in a mini skirt that gives so little to my imagination. But seeing her naked, like this, gets a reaction out of me that is anything but holy. 

Her back is hot and sweaty against my chest, soft groans escaping her mouth as my fingers toy with her clit from behind. 

The minute Raye stood in front of me, stripping her clothes and pushing her tits in my face. Her body glowing int the hotel light as she begged me to ‘teach her,’ I knew it was fucking game over.

I’ve made it my mission to make each experience worthwhile with everything I did to her tonight. Dragging her into the shower and letting her sink to her knees as she ate me out, I swear she was lying about having never done it before because she made me cum so hard I almost passed out. I took her again as soon as we got out, bending her over the sink and fucking my fingers so deep that she was squirting on the floor. 

She rode my abs when we got back in bed, covering them in her own cream and then shocking me by licking it all off. I decided then that I need her again and again and again, in every possible way that I could have her.

Which brings us to right now. I circle her clit over and over, splaying my other hand over her stomach and tucking my head into her neck to watch. Strings of her slick sticking to my fingertips that I pull back for her to see. 

“You been such a good girl for me tonight, takin’ everything I give you.” I coo against her skin. “My perfect angel.” I hum.

“Paige, just—mm— just like that.” I keep going, slow and deliberate circles because I know that anything else might send her thrashing against my body on the hotel chair.

“Yeah? You like that?” I whisper, kissing her neck in a much different manner than the one in which I’m touching her with. I spread her folds with my index and ring fingers, teasing her hole with my middle. “Don’t even need to get ‘em wet. You did it for me, ma.”

I sink my finger inside, relishing in the way she swallows up my whole finger and coats in arousal. Raye can take more, I know she can, I saw her take nearly my whole hand an hour ago. But I’m being gentle, so one is enough for now.

She tosses her head against my shoulder panting heavily, as if her throat won’t let her moan the way she wants to. She’s so damn soaked, the sound of my finger slowly sliding in and out bounces off the walls. I can feel it dripping out of her, down her ass and drenching my legs through my plaid boxers.

Raye curls her arm around my head, pulling me closer to her neck. I bite my lip, curling them deep inside into her spot. “Ah! Baby, baby! God, right there.” She squeals, digging her nails into my nape.

“You’re so damn beautiful, angel. Jus’ taking me so good.” I nod, holding her body as close as possible so I get that perfect look. That perfect view of her pretty cunt when I slip in a second finger.

That’s what gets her to thrash on my lap, attempting to shut her legs from me but I hold them open. Raye cries out my name, over and over and over again like a prayer. “Don’t fuckin’ stop. Please, m’ so close,” she moans.

“Stretchin’ you out so good, yeah? Gotta get you ready for me. Strap you so good when we get back. Do you so good, ma, I swear.” I speak gently.

I know her tells flawlessly now, how she lets her mouth fall open with nothing but choppy breaths passing into the air. How she grips on anything, eyes rolling into her skull. She’s close, about to make a mess on the last clean surface in the room but I don’t care.

Raye tips her head towards me, chasing my lips with her own. I let her, locking our lips in a slow kiss that feels just like the first time. Her tongue navigates my mouth, her teeth clashing with mine. She’s moaning haphazardly into my mouth, getting distracted by my fingers.

It fills me with a sense of pride I’ve never felt before.

“Wanna ruin it, Raye.” I groan, sucking her bottom lip before pulling back. “It’s mine, yeah?”

She nods rapidly, her legs shake and her moans make my ears ring. “Paige!” Maraye drags out my name, making me feel on top of the whole fucking world.

“This my pussy, ma? All me?”

“Shit. It’s y-yours. I promise.” I rut my fingers inside faster, attempting to ignore the sting in my arm. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” She hiccups. Her cunt squeezes me tight, and I know she’s right there.

“Gimme that shit, Raye. Make a mess for me, baby. I need that.” I murmur, “Y’know I’m right here. Just gimme that.” 

A cry tears through her mouth, the loudest she’s been all night. Raye’s eyes are glued shut and she’s coming again. I never want it to end, if it were up to me, I’d take her out on the balcony right now but I know her. She’s trembling.

I ease my fingers out slowly, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist and circling her clit to work her through it. 

When she finally comes down, her body trembling and her chest heaving, I don’t pull away immediately. I stay right where I am, gently kissing at her ear and mumbling sweet nothings. My touch softened as I helped Raye ride out the aftershocks.

“Fuck,” Raye finally breathes, her voice hoarse and unsteady. She lets out a breathless laugh, her hands falling to the sides of the armrests as she stares up at the ceiling in an attempt to find her thoughts again. “You ever fuck someone else like that, I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill you.”

I can’t help but grin against her skin. It’s completely Maraye, something only she could do after sex. She curls into hold, wrapping both arms around my neck and I let her, anything that lets me get her close like this. 

“You remember what I said about making you mine tonight?” I ask, tracing circles on her lower back.

She nods. “Is that not what you just did for the last four hours?” A breathy sigh escaping her mouth. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I laugh. Suddenly all the air in my lungs is missing, the words I want to say getting lodged in my throat. Raye has this way of making me forget that I’m probably the most confident person on the planet. “I—um, I want you to be my girlfriend. Just me and you, Raye.”

I watch her eyes go wide as she tugs her t-shirt back over her exposed upper body. “Wh- you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Do you?”

“No! No, I just, are you sure?”

“Am I sure that I want you as my girlfriend? Are you kidding?” I adjust her position in my lap, helping her get settled on my lap with her face to mine. She presses her palms on my bare chest, those eyes glued to mine with the slightest smile. “Yes. I want you. Only you, Raye. I don’t care if it’s too soon, ‘cause I’ve spent the last two and a half months waiting for you to be mine. I’m making you my girl. Who gives a fuck if it’s too s—”

She cuts me off without hesitation, I think I might go drunk from how many times she’s kissed me tonight. Raye starts with soft pecks, each one causing a groan to slip past me. “Yeah.”

“Mm– yeah what, angel?” I ask, smiling all against her lips. “Gotta say it.”

She breaks the kiss, smiling right back, all teeth and gums and I think she looks fucking beautiful. “Yes, Paige. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

—

September 2025 — London, England, United Kingdom 

“So, what’s your type?” Amelia asks me, popping a fry into her mouth. She sits across from me in this booth at Morley’s Chicken, cameras surrounding the both of us. “Y’know, other than blonde and pretty with blue eyes.”

I have to hold back my giggle, because this is her thing. She flirts with all her guests while also seemingly trying to get little bits of information from my life. That’s why I know she’s describing herself, and not the girlfriend that waits for me at home in LA.

Home. A place where love is nurtured and bloomed, a place that I now can only ever associate with Paige. She’s perfect, patient, communicative, funny, slightly annoying but in a way that makes her comfortable and charming. She’s my home now.

“That’s exactly my type, actually.” I nod, wrapping my lips around the straw of my fruit punch juice box. “To a T.”

“Really?” Amelia’s accent sticks out to me immediately, making me giggle. “What’s funny?”

“I like your accent.” I say. “But yea, that’s exactly my type.” I repeat, trying my hardest to fight the growing smirk on my lips. When this episode is edited and Paige sees it, I just know she’s going to be all smiles.

Amelia nods, a posh grin and an adorable shrug of her shoulders being sent my way. “Well obviously. You wouldn’t be on a date with me then, I suppose. You are just seeing me right?” She continues with the bit.

“Of course.”

I let my mind wander off to Paige the minute I say that. It’s early here, which means she’s probably asleep back in LA. Cuddled under the covers of my bed that is slowly becoming our bed. At the apartment with my name on it but clothes and shoes and snacks that could only belong to Paige. She’d woven her way into my life, into my home, into my music. So that even now, when I’m countries away, and talking about my music career, she’s all I can think about. Because there was nothing like being with Paige. 

And I got to call her mine.

All mine.

[archangeldyke-all]

imagine isha doing that thing that mute kids sometimes do, where they suddenly say a word/sentence or two out loud n then go back to being completely mute for a few years. imagine you’re tucking her in like “ily isha, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” and she goes “ok. goodnight. mac & cheese.” and you never hear her talk again

also i love your writing 🩷🩷

this is so fucking funny god

men and minors dni

jinx has always claimed that isha speaks to her on occasion. you and sevika are always skeptical. a lot of isha's squeaks can sound like words-- and jinx tends to hear voices that aren't really there more than most people.

it takes a year of living together before one of you catches it in person.

sevika runs into the kitchen so fast she almost knocks over a chair. "babe, babe!" she says with a giddy smile. you giggle.

"what?"

"isha-- she just talked!" sevika laughs. "she doesn't know i heard her-- she was puttin' her socks on and her toe popped out of a hole, and she went; 'awe fuck!'" sevika imitates.

you burst into laughter. "are you sure?! you didn't just mishear one of her little grunts?"

"babe, i know what i heard. i read about this, y'know. sometimes, mute kids just randomly talk. and jinx said she's heard it before! i guess... i guess she really liked those socks!" sevika cackles. "you shoulda heard her little voice cursin' baby, oh my god!" sevika can't stop laughing.

for a long time, you don't quite believe her story. you're sure your wife thought she heard your kid curse, but you aren't convinced that isha can talk at all.

until she talks to you.

almost two years after sevika claims she hears isha talk, you're tucking her into bed like any other night. isha's pointing out various poisonous frog species to you in her favorite 'dangerous animals' book, and you're playing with her hair, kissing her head occasionally.

"if i was a poision dart frog, i think i'd be pink and purple. what about you?"

isha taps her chin while she considers your question, then signs with a smile. blue and yellow! you laugh. of course she'd pick her favorite colors.

"nice. what do you think jinx and big mama would be?"

jinxie is blue and purple and big mama is green!

"you've got it all figured out, huh?"

isha nods with a yawn. you chuckle.

"alright-- i think it's bedtime. c'mon, get comfy." isha hands her book to you and crawls under her covers. when she settles, she scrunches her face just a bit and lets out a fart. you giggle. "got your dutch oven going, huh?" you ask. she laughs.

"do frogs fart?" isha asks.

you freeze, staring at isha as she blinks up at you with big eyes, waiting for an answer. "wh-- did you--"

do they? she signs.

you burst into laughter and pull isha into your arms. "i have no idea!" you laugh. "oh my god!" isha giggles in your arms, confused by your reaction but enjoying the barrage of kisses you're giving her regardless. "i love you so much you silly little girl."

isha gets sick of your cuddles, elbowing you and signing. look it up on your phone! she whines. you cackle.

"okay, okay!" you laugh as you pull out your phone to google isha's question.

sevika and jinx are never going to believe this.

or... maybe they will.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb

[puckinghischier]

Going off the exes to lovers w/ Quinn…

You guys are still in the same friend group so sometimes you still have to see each other during gatherings or in passing and it’s just little things that Quinn does or says that makes you realize you never fell out of love with him. Like he knew you were coming out on the boat for the day with them so he stocked up on your fav snacks to put on the boat. Or maybe he heard you were sick from his brothers so he insta carts stuff to your house. Just things that makes it blatantly obvious that he still cares.

oh he’s using every opportunity. you drank too much and need a ride home from the bar? he stopped drinking the second you ordered your third drink.

you mention in a gc you’ve been craving a certain type of food? it shows up at your door in an hour.

your friend mentions that you’ve been feeling homesick lately? your parents, somehow, mysteriously, found the money in their budget for a couple of place tickets to see you.

he would be so subtle, so nonchalant with it you don’t even notice until you look back. it’s like he never left. he’s always just…there. waiting.

it’s not like the two of you had some big, blow out break up. it was more so like you still loved him, but you needed to love yourself more. so you’re still friendly. you still speak when in groups together and you still frequent games.

but it’s like his presence in your life never really faltered, even though the absence is what you said you needed.

so one day, when you pretended to order drinks, you noticed the way his glass stayed empty as long as yours stayed full. you mentioned in a gc without him you were craving italian food, and for once, it never showed up.

you kept noticing all the things he was still doing for you, and against your will, your resolve cracked. you knew he loved you, and you still loved him, but you figured he’d quit paying attention after awhile.

but he never did.

and when you confronted him about it? well…he didn’t even deny any of it. he admitted to it like he was saying the sky was blue, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well, why would i stop? you need someone to look after you, and i don’t trust anyone else to do it, so why stop doing what i love for who i love?”

his words were like a punch to your gut, because why, why couldn’t he have just said those things when you two were together?

“quinn, it’s not that simple. you just weren’t…there.”

that? saying he was never there? that made him angry. because while he may not have been physically there, he was always there.

“that’s bullshit. that’s bullshit and you know it. yeah, i might not have been able to be with you all the time, but don’t ever fucking tell me i wasn’t there, y/n, because i’ve always only ever been there.”

he points to your chest as he says it. his outburst surprises you, but it makes you think.

yeah, maybe he was gone all the time, but somehow your car always stayed cleaned and serviced, without you even realizing. maybe he was in a different country most of the time, but there was never a lack of fresh flowers in your apartment. maybe he wasn’t able to be on his phone all the time, but your voicemail was never empty, sweet recordings littering the inbox.

so yeah, maybe he wasn’t always there, but he was never really absent, was he?

as you stand there looking at a red faced and angry, but mostly hurt, quinn, you think…maybe he’s always meant to be there, clouding your thoughts and filling the ache in your chest you forced him to leave.

[blonndiec]

Exactly.

EXACTLY.

And it doesn’t apply only to comments on AO3 but in general in fandoms spaces.

Some weeks back I was about to delete all my works and remove all my presence online with this username. To be honest, it’s a horrible situation to be in. I thought I was really canceled and over in this space. But then I realized that it was not me with this childish behavior, I didn’t had to leave based on a lie against me.

We need to point out this people’s behavior and don’t let it spread through the fandom. And don’t just “complain” with your friends, don’t be scared, don’t succumb to the peer pressure of not saying anything. This things need to be out in the open to let other people know how these people are—you might surprise yourself how many people will reach out with similar if not the same experiences with these people.

I mean...was it too hard being nice from the start? This is fandom culture, not capitalism. People are not your competition, but collaborators freely joining forces to create for the love everyone has for something.

Stop the divisive behavior. Stop labeling people. Stop discriminating people in the fandom and stop gatekeeping content.

I have no empathy towards these people anymore (and I’m sorry for that, because the little I had left stopped after reading deliberately wording in discourses to cancel me, calling me acephobic asshole when they don’t know I’m actually married to one) and even trying to associate me with nazism and using related terms when hundreds of doctors around the world still use this term) and what I would like is people being aware of this behaviors and DONT let it spread. Don’t complicit it. Don’t condone it.

Because it hasn’t been only towards me, but towards more…much more people on the fandom I’m currently in. So I guess it widely happens in other fandoms and affects people until they are ready to jump ship and leave.

I wanna know where people have lately gotten the audacity to leave comments on fanfics talking about how much the fanfic sucked and negatively critiquing an author's fic like it's a published book review.

It pisses me off cause I've seen authors abandoned or delete their fics because of this.

You're getting fanfics for FREE! No one asked for your opinion.

I hope y'all know as authors we get email notifications when you comment so we see EVERY comment that's been left.

We also can see the negative reviews you leave when you bookmark our fics

[leighsartworks216]

If You're Quiet During Sex (Headcanons)

Sylus x gn!Reader + Zayne x gn!Reader (separate)

Had this thought because I'm quiet During so I got a little self-deprecating about what they'd think about it... but then I remembered the boys would never make me feel ashamed for that shit

Warnings: sexual content

Word Count: 434 (cool, it's like a little kissy face)

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus

Probably thinks he's not making you feel good enough at first

Shocked when you orgasm because you were so quiet, surely he didn't make you cum already???

Brings it up right away, asks if you liked it

Admits that he expected you to make more noise

If it's purely from inexperience or anxiety, he's more than happy to spend time breaking down those barriers. He won't force you to make noise, but he's definitely more forthcoming with his own sounds to encourage you. Any sound you do make, he's praising you for it and trying to draw it out of you again

If moaning really just isn't your thing, he just asks that you tell him if something feels good or bad. He wants to pleasure you, and he wants to make sure he's doing things you like when he might not notice your little tells in the heat of the moment

Either way, he does keep track of your tells. If you close your eyes and tilt your head back, mouth hanging open, small whimpers or shivers - he's looking for whatever it is that tells him you're enjoying yourself

He's moderately noisy during sex. He'll moan and talk, but it's not like he's trying to project it. It's more close to you, contained in the space between you both, but not so quiet he has to be in your ear to hear it

-

Zayne

I feel like he wouldn't question it as much

Because he's also not very vocal

He himself is very breathy and whines a little, but full moans are few and far between

Communicates a LOT about what you do and don't enjoy before, during and after

Sometimes requests you to speak (*ahem* "Say my name..." from Silent Poem, I'm looking at you), but never pushes you to be loud

If you're quiet because of anxiety or inexperience, he's as reassuring and encouraging as he can be. Would honestly be so proud of you if you start being louder and more vocal over time, because it means you're comfortable with him and that means the world to him. Says as much afterward, cuddling you and nuzzling into your neck with a lovestruck grin as he does

I wonder if you couldn't also influence him into being more noisy during sex. Command or beg him to say your name, tell you how good he feels, suck and bite at his most sensitive spots until he's a whining, simpering mess.....

Imagine his own surprise when you touch him and he lets out a very loud moan that even he wasn't expecting

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[woso-dreamzzz]

New Girlfriend III

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Teen!Reader

Summary: You make a game

When Lucy cracks open your door, you're as you always are.

You're hunched over your computer, clicking around some game level aimlessly with your tongue sticking out in concentration.

Your mice, like they always are when you're in the room, are running riot in their pen.

Outside of their cage and on the floor, you've set up a little pen for them to roam around and play in.

Lara and Zelda are wrestling like always as Clementine tries to work through the enrichment puzzle full of food. Ezio is asleep, flopped over on your shoulder as you study whatever new game you've found.

"You ready for dinner?"

Now that it's gotten colder, you've managed to get even moodier than before and even more of a shut in.

"One sec," You say. You click around the game level a bit more before pulling up a separate tab to type a long string of something Lucy can't even hope to understand. "Alright, I'm done. What's up?"

Lucy rolls her eyes fondly. "Dinner. Now. Ona cooked."

You push your chair out from your desk and stretch, your back cracking from the long hours you've spent hunched over.

You put the mice back into the cage, each of them getting a quick snuggle and kiss before you bolt it shut.

"Is it good food?" You ask as you go down the stairs.

"It's better than your mum makes!" Ona calls out and you grin.

"Yeah, but anything's better than Mum's cooking!"

Lucy grumbles, shaking her head. "One nice meal is all I ask. One meal where I don't get horrifically bullied!"

"We don't bully you," You say," It's character building!"

You and Ona laugh and Lucy just rolls her eyes. Sometimes, you think she would prefer if it went back to what it was like when you were first adapting to Ona.

"Oh," She says," I sent you those audio files you wanted."

"Thanks."

Lucy frowns. "She's been making you do those too?"

"Yeah, it's for a school project, right?"

You nod. "Uh-huh. It's for programming."

"I know I shouldn't have let you sign up for that," She says," It's all you ever do. I think you're losing sleep over it."

"You'll like it," You declare," What I'm working on. I promise."

"I'm sure that I will but it doesn't mean I think you're sleeping well. Put it down for once, that's all I'm saying."

You roll your eyes.

Lucy's always like that about your programming. Sometimes she lays asleep at gone three in the morning and can still hear you typing away on your computer for hours on end.

You return to your room after dinner ends and briefly come out to show Ona what you're working on while also denying Lucy the same opportunity.

"You've love it," Ona assures her at training the next day.

"Love what?" Keira asks," Oh, y/n's game? Yeah, you'll love it, Luce."

"Am I the only one that hasn't seen it?!" She demands, glancing around the room at people who are trying to not make eye contact with her. "Seriously? Raise your hand if you've seen it?"

Slowly, everyone raises their hand.

"This is so unfair!"

When you first got given the project, Lucy had been the first person to be clued into your plans. You showed her all your design sketches and all your ideas as you jumped between them.

At one point, one of your bedroom walls had been covered in concept designs and you would stand in front of it and point out certain aspects you liked and things you didn't think were quite perfect yet.

Lucu had been integral to your thought process and then all of a sudden she was shut out. You'd ask her to record voice lines or demonstrate doing something but you'd never explain why or what it was for.

You all but unplugged your computer when she came in unexpectedly and tried to get a sneak peak.

"Alright," Lucy says when she gets home to see you and Ona giggling on the sofa together," I've had enough. Show me your project."

You sit upright immediately, eyes wide.

"No-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer. I've had enough of the secrets."

She's serious. You can tell by the clench in her jaw and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.

Lucy's stubborn but you inherited from her so you're stubborn too.

Your cross your arms in the same way as you stand. "No! It's not finished! You can see it when you're finished!"

"Hey," Ona intervenes before the argument can truly get heated. Her hand rests on your shoulder. "It's okay. Just show her."

"I can't! It's not ready!"

"Come on," Ona says," Show her."

You glance at your Mum, who is staring at you with that same stern look and crossed arms as the one that she came in with.

"Fine. Give me a sec."

Lucy sits on the sofa as Ona hooks up a laptop to the tv.

You come back in with a disc and nervously put it into the dvd slot.

Lucy doesn't know what to say when the opening credits appear.

'Lucy Bronze: The Game' with a little pixel version of her holding the Champion's League trophy up on her head.

"We were meant to make a game about a hero," You say," And you're my hero."

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

018 — for her, i am.

(a/n: u might wanna grab some popcorn for this one.)

JENO POV

“i know who leaked my secret.”

he had said it so quickly that he forgot the words had even come from his mouth.

jaemin stares at him, eyes wide in a mix of shock and weirdly, sadness.

but then jeno realises why. he had let jaemin be bullied, staying silent as all of his friends attacked him. he had done nothing.

jaemin didn’t care that jeno knew who it was, he didn’t care who had ruined jeno’s life, because jeno had ruined his. he thought that jeno thought it was him, he had assumed that’s why jeno did nothing, out of hatred, out of anger. but now, now it made no sense. jeno was meant to be his bestfriend.

jeno became angry at the thought. not at jaemin, but at himself. and he hadn’t even explained to him the whole story yet, he hadn’t even told him who it was.

jaemin spoke first after their silence.

“you better start explaining.” jaemin says, and rightfully so. jeno feels as if he should had done the explaining a while ago, he wanted to. but it all happened too quick. he never got the chance.

he doesn’t know why, but he feels like jaemin and him aren’t going to be the same after this. not after what he’s about to tell him.

jaemin grows inpatient, angry even.

“come on, jeno, im not gonna sit here and wait for the fucking grass to grow!!”

jeno says nothing still, and this only makes jaemin’s anger worsen. but he just doesn’t know what to say, how to word the sentence that will ruin their friendship.

“WHO WAS IT JENO?” jaemins grabbing his shirt at this point, and there’s nothing he can do but close his eyes and take it. “WHO WAS IT YOU HAD TO PROTECT SO MUCH TO THE POINT WHERE YOU HAD TO LET ME GET PUSHED AROUND, HUH? WHO SPILLED YOUR FUCKING SECRET, WHO DID YOU FEEL WAS SO SPECIAL TO YOU THAT YOU COULDNT SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE?!! WHO WAS IT, JENO?! WHO W-“

jeno’s heart races. his fists clench. his arms tense.

he snaps.

“IT WAS ME!”

jaemin stills.

he lets go of jeno’s shirt.

his eyes never divert from his, his last breath never leaving. they both stand in the apartment lobby, the cold air of outside, breezing through the window, half cracked open, the distant buzz of the vending machine whirring in the corner and the deep hue of the midnight sky absorbing the light from around them.

they’re silent, they’re still.

neither of them dare to speak.

until jeno notices jaemins face.

it’s not anger, it’s not sadness. it’s pity.

“it was me.” jeno’s voice is lower now. “i leaked my own identity.” he looks at the floor, in both solemnity and shame.

“why?” jaemin asks. “why would you do that to yourself?”

“i didn’t know it would spread so fast. i posted it on an anonymous account before my race. i wasn’t expecting it to be spread so quick, let alone on national news. i thought it would be slow, i was going to tell you, i was going to tell everyone. i had decided i didn’t want to be samo anymore. but the speed of it all… i wasn’t ready yet, i hadn’t prepared yet, i hadn’t told her.”

jaemin stills at the mention of you.

“so that’s why.”

jeno nods.

“you’re an idiot.” jaemin says, throwing jeno’s words back at him.

but jeno isn’t laughing.

“for her, i am.”

that’s where he realises the gravity of it all. that both of their deception had all come down to the route of one thing, of one person.

you.

jeno continues. “do you know what she told me when we first got into that fake relationship?”

jaemin shakes his head.

“she told me that she didn’t understand why i liked living as samo more than jeno. and usually, i did. i loved living as samo, it was the only time that i was able to really be myself. but when she came along, i realised something. i realised that i didn’t want to be samo anymore, i wanted to be the person that she knew. technically, she knew samo, yes. but it was me, as jeno, that she truly knew. and when she told me that i should just live as jeno, avoid all the public attention and just go outside without a mask, i realised that she was right, that that’s who i wanted to be. i wanted to be me, because of her. so when she told chenle who i was, i should have been mad, i should have been pissed. but, truly? i was relieved. she had done the first step of my journey herself, i could break off the deal. i could explain that i didn’t care about it anymore. i could explain that i wanted to date her for real. but i didn’t do any of that. i was still angry, i was angry at the reason why she had told chenle. he ruined it all. i couldn’t explain it to her, what i really wanted. because she liked him. and it only confirmed my suspicions when i found that stupid fuckers hoodi-“

jeno realised he had be talking for too long when jaemin began to smile.

“oh man i’ve been waiting for you to say that for the longest time, that you want to be yourself.” he pulls him into a brief hug as he speaks, as if he hadn’t even heard the second half of jeno’s rant.

after a second, jaemin pulls away before stating the obvious truth of what’s staring them both in the face, “if only it wasn’t because of her.”

reality dawns on him, pushing on him like an incoming storm. “im sorry jaemin, but ive made up my mind.”

jaemin nods, expecting jeno to say more. but he doesn’t, he just walks to the elevator, clicking the floor to their dorm. jeno hopes that jaemin forgets all about you, that he puts his feelings for you aside. but he knows jaemin too well, he knows no matter how much he tries, jaemin will never forget you.

“you getting in?” jeno says, a smile plastered on his face.

jaemin grins back before running to the elevator to join him.

jeno was going back home.

well, he will be once he fixes things with you.

jaemin lets out a sigh, seeming deep in thought. “you sacrificed everything for her.”

jeno looks at him, an understanding of what he means by this.

“jaemin-“

“i’ll take the fall for it.” he says, a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. “you don’t have to tell them it was you yet, if you’re not ready.”

jeno panics, “i can’t let you do that. not anymore.”

“please let me.” he fidgets, watching the numbers on the elevator screen climb up, and up, and up. “it’s the most i can do.”

jeno doesn’t know what to say, just like before. so he does the easiest thing. even though he knows he shouldn’t, he does what he knows he’s going to regret.

the elevator dings to a halt.

he lets him.

a sacrifice for a sacrifice.

previous : mlist : next

notes; it’s been so hard tryna keep this secret guys u have NO idea

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

[k1b0cyberspace]

I would agree if the said core themes didn't involve sexual assault and more. Yes, the internet is the internet, and you can make whatever you want because these characters aren't real. Explore the idea of the two being in love.

I never said they are real people, but they represent REAL people/situations in our world. There are 100s of Anays who have been assaulted. Jimmys who got away, and who's who didn't! Curlys who defend their friends act like Jimmy, who would "fix" things. It's a kind of game that maybe we should be more sensitive about when shipping a character like Curly with Anaya (who, yes, is more than an enabler, if you play the game, you can see that but let's not forget his actions towards the victim, some nice and some were straight up fucked up, let's be honest) Also yes, not everyone who ships that isn't always defending him, but again, you can't just expect people not to give you a look, personally, it's just really weird to ship her with the man who probably covers his bestie boo jimmy horrible actions. Look,

I can think of one way it could be cute. Bro realizes his faults and heals with Anaya, and then they fall in love happily ever after, and boom.

Again, I would not be surprised if people were weirded out knowing the said game this ship came from. (Do not harass people over ships it's hella goofy) and feels like you're missing the point of said game and op called people who say this point of "curly is a enabler" peabrained for bring up a good point (correct me if I am wrong)

(Also banger video that probably explains my thoughts better on Curly and Anaya, like as characters and not as a ship)

Also this isn't supposed to fighting or hating on anyone just explaining my feelings on the matter and reblog to my reblog by @popatochsp (their a banger artist)

"Know that curly is an enabler and anya is a victim" maybe for your little pea brain, but my massive, hulking cranium can appreciate fanart of them in absurdly wild scenarios while still understanding that fanart doesn’t change what actually happens in the game.

[burrowlvrr]

— MORTGAGE MISCHIEF, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Y/N caves in and makes a TikTok account, and it doesn't take long for her to try to prank her unserious husband.

NOTE: I love this trend on TikTok so freaking much, bro, I just couldn't help myself. I wish there was more pranks going around TikTok so I could write another one lol! Feel free to send me more ideas and suggestions, enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

Y/N had never been the kind of person to keep up with social media trends. Her Instagram was mostly filled with family snapshots, vacation photos, and the occasional throwback post from her college days. TikTok, though? That was a whole different ballgame.

She’d heard the buzz about it, of course—the dances, the memes, the endless rabbit hole of videos that could steal hours of your day—but it wasn’t really her thing.

That is, until some of Joe’s fans started flooding her DMs.

It wasn’t unusual for her to get messages from fans, most of them kind and supportive, occasionally sprinkled with the usual social media chaos. But after a family photo Joe posted went viral—a candid shot of the two of them laughing while their kids played in the background—her inbox blew up.

Several people had suggested she start a TikTok account, saying things like, “Your family is so cute, we’d love to see more of you guys!” and “Please post more videos of Joe being a dad; it’s the content we all need!”

At first, she brushed it off. The idea of putting her family out there in such a public way made her hesitant. Their life was private, cozy, and real—did she really want to open that up to the internet? But the messages kept coming, and her curiosity eventually got the better of her. One evening, after the kids were asleep and Joe was watching game highlights, she downloaded the app.

It didn’t take long for TikTok to reel her in. The first few days, she lurked quietly, scrolling through endless videos of clever pranks, hilarious parenting fails, and, of course, a whole section of TikToks dedicated to football wives and girlfriends. It was the pranks that hooked her.

Women were pulling the funniest, most creative stunts on their unsuspecting husbands—pretending to be mad over made-up arguments, mispronouncing their favorite athletes’ names, and her personal favorite, casually dropping bombshell “confessions” to see how their partners would react.

She couldn’t resist.

“This would be perfect for Joe,” she’d said to herself one night, already grinning at the thought. He was so even-keeled most of the time, but his sass came out when he was caught off guard, and she couldn’t wait to see what he’d say.

So, Y/N started posting. At first, it was just lighthearted videos of their kids, like Hudson and Elijah racing each other in the backyard or Sawyer trying to crawl after their dog, who always managed to stay just out of reach. The comments poured in, full of love and laughter, and she started to feel less nervous about sharing these little moments. And then came the pranks.

She eased into them, starting small—things like pretending to forget what day of the week it was or asking Joe if she could switch his game-day hoodie with one of hers. His reactions were gold, and her videos started gaining traction. She didn’t know how many people would find it so funny, but apparently, the internet loved Joe Burrow getting pranked as much as she did.

Which is how she found herself, phone in hand, ready to execute her latest and possibly best trend yet: the “I can’t pay the mortgage this month” prank.

The living room buzzed with the quiet hum of family life. Hudson and Elijah were seated cross-legged on the rug, their faces scrunched in concentration as they connected Lego pieces, the colorful blocks scattered across the coffee table like a mini construction zone. Sawyer, their youngest, was on the floor nearby, rolling lazily on her playmat while holding her bottle with both hands, occasionally babbling nonsense to herself.

Joe was stretched out on the couch, the epitome of relaxation in his gray hoodie and sweatpants, his wife’s legs comfortably draped over his thighs. His focus was glued to the MMA fight playing on the TV, and he absently stirred his spoon around a bowl of cereal balanced in his hand.

Every so often, he’d let out a low, “Oof,” reacting to a particularly hard punch or takedown, his body slightly tensing with the action on screen.

Y/N sat beside him, phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok. She stumbled across the trend a few hours ago, and decided that now was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Glancing sideways at Joe, she smirked to herself. This will be fun.

She adjusted her phone subtly, angling it to record, and cleared her throat dramatically. “Joe?”

“Hmm?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen as he scooped another bite of cereal.

“I need to tell you something,” she said softly, injecting a hint of nervousness into her tone.

Joe didn’t look up. “What’s up, baby?”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” she added, biting her bottom lip to suppress a grin.

That got his attention. Joe’s hand froze midair, his spoon hovering over the bowl, and he turned his head toward her, squinting slightly.

“What? Why would I get mad?” His sharp gaze shifted to the phone in her lap. “Wait… why’re you recording? You pregnant again?”

Y/N burst out laughing at his assumption, unable to keep up her serious facade. “What? No!”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause that’s how you told me about Sawyer,” he replied with a smirk, leaning back on the couch and rubbing his free hand over his face.

“You just pulled out your phone, started recording, and bam—‘Congratulations, you’re gonna be a dad again!’” Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling. “I’m serious, Joe. This is important.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, setting his cereal down on the side table and shifting so he was facing her fully. “What’s going on? And why are you being all dramatic about it?”

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself before delivering her line. “I, uh… I won’t be able to pay the mortgage this month.”

Joe blinked at her, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Girl, what are you talking about?” His tone was casual but tinged with disbelief.

She tried to keep her composure, clasping her hands together as if pleading. “The school’s on winter break, so my paycheck isn’t going to be enough. I just—ugh, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Joe stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Okay, wait. How much is the mortgage?”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Uh… like… $2,000?” she guessed, feigning confidence.

Joe’s mouth twitched, and he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Babe. You don’t even know how much it is, do you?”

“Well…” she stalled, trying to recover.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms. “You’ve never paid the mortgage.”

“I know!” Y/N blurted, throwing her hands up dramatically. “I was going to as your Christmas present, but my paycheck won’t be enough now!”

Joe’s brow furrowed again, but this time his lips quirked upward, unable to hide his amusement. “So let me get this straight. You don’t know how much the mortgage is. You’ve never paid it before. And now you’re stressed because your Christmas present was gonna be paying it, but you can’t?”

“Exactly!” she said, doubling down.

For a moment, Joe just stared at her, then he broke into a deep laugh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, shaking his head. Grabbing his cereal bowl, he leaned back against the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. I got it.” He scooped another spoonful and took a bite like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she nearly dropped her phone.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her, still chewing. “What’s so funny now?”

“It was a TikTok prank!” she wheezed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

Joe’s smirk deepened as he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured. There’s no way you were being serious.”

“You were so calm about it, though!” she said, still laughing. “I really thought I’d get a bigger reaction out of you!”

“Nah,” Joe replied, reaching over to pinch her ankle playfully. “You’re too bad at lying, babe. Next time, at least Google how much the mortgage is first.”

From the floor, Hudson looked up from the Lego set with a curious expression. “What’s a mortgage?”

Joe snorted, pointing his spoon at his son. “Something you don’t gotta worry about, buddy.”

Elijah chimed in without looking up from his Legos. “Mommy’s bad at pranks.”

Sawyer let out a happy babble from her playmat, almost as if she agreed.

Joe laughed, pulling Y/N closer with one arm. “Looks like the jury’s unanimous, babe. Better luck next time.”