#I’d lose my marbles too

[rosalinesurvived]

Utter ew but you know what I just realised?

Again with the Jackson-Is-Peter’s-Son Theory you’ve got Kate being a sick fuck admitting she likes very underaged boys compared to a boy who already looks like Peter and ergo Derek, who Kate already seduced read: raped at sixteen

Additionally-yeah same Allison why is Kate such a fucked up insane piece of shit? Hate to pull this out but I don’t wanna hear anyone admiring her in any way shape or form considering that she would be public enemy number one if the genders here were reversed

[shomatoriashi]

09/01/24; 04:40pm

{ 18+ headcanons / drabbles }

[ when they’re too busy with work, but you’re needy for them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

it was the middle of the night when you woke up with a start, eyes going blurry as you blindly reached out to the opposite side of the bed-

only to realize that the sheets were cold to touch.

your sleepiness dissolves in an instant, with a soft yawn coming from your parted lips as you carefully get out of bed. a shiver courses through you upon feeling the cold marble against your feet, but you ignore such icy sensations.

opening the door out of the master bedroom, you wrap your arms around your chest, trying to keep in as much warmth that you could manage while making your way towards sylus’s office. there was a bit of a drag in your steps, your slow movements serving as sole evidence of your exhaustion-

but you would not sleep without sylus by your side.

finally reaching his office, you give the rich, oak door a series of knock, alerting your lover of your presence before inviting yourself inside. yet the moment you saw sylus settled on the expensive leather couch, you could feel your mouth turn dry.

he was dressed in a suit colored in ebony and crimson, the colors matching his aesthetic as his rufescent eyes meet with your gaze. an achingly soft smile graces his features, and you felt a pang of heat running down your spine at the mere sight of him.

gripping at the sheer material of your nightgown, your breathing comes out in uneven breaths. your eyes darken, mirroring your desires for him before asking, “sylus, won’t you join me in bed? it’s getting late.”

sylus’s eyes flash, giving you a momentary glimpse of lust while letting out a string of curses. “sweetheart, as much as i’d like to join you and keep you warm while in bed, i can’t. i’ve got to get these orders ready for my client.”

you bite down on your bottom lip, already feeling the moisture collecting from between your legs. not daring to look away from him, you slowly lock the door to his office, earning a raised brow from the onychinus leader.

you remain silent, stepping out of your ruined panties as you allow the flimsy material to fall to the ground. hunger was seen in sylus’s gaze the moment you shed your body free of your nightgown, allowing it to flutter to the floor before sauntering towards your lover.

sylus wastes no time pulling you closer to him, allowing your soaked cunt to pulsate against his thighs as you gently rode him, allowing your sticky sweet arousal to coat his suit.

“thats it, babygirl. keep on riding me, just like that. let me work for a little while longer, then i’ll take care of you.”

your gasps end up filling at the room, with sylus steadily losing interest in cleaning the weapons the moment you began bouncing up and down his thigh. his eyes had long since lost its crimson shade, becoming so dilated and filled with desire for you that he could feel his sanity snap.

needless to say, when sylus tosses the gun back on the table before unbuckling his pants, freeing his erection as he harshly grips at your thighs before impaling your slick heat against his cock, you lost all of your senses. being so filled with him after riding his thighs created such a hedonistic friction that you quickly became addicted to, never once stopping as you rode him with a desperation.

meanwhile, as luke and kieran were ready to deliver the next round of weapons, they froze upon seeing the office door locked as sounds of your breathy moans and sylus’s grunts were heard coming from behind the door. both twins end up looking at each other, their flustered expression hidden beneath their masks as they slowly backed away from the door.

it was best not to disturb their boss and his queen while in the middle of their trysts, a lesson that they were all too familiar with.

it was early in the morning at akso hospital, and as the staff were prepared to switch out with their coworkers for the upcoming shift, they would remain blissfully unaware of how a certain cardiac surgeon was still tied up and locked in his office.

zayne tries to hide back his groans, having to force himself to bite down on his fist the moment you came into his office. he had simply been going over some patient profiles when you came into his office with an almost dazed expression on your face.

he was filled with concern for you, already taking off his glasses while shoving his patient files to the side. one moment, he was filled with guilt for neglecting you for a few days due to how he wasn’t coming home as much-

and the next, zayne found himself settling back against his chair, with you remaining hidden beneath his desk as his cock was in your mouth. he was already half-erect the moment you began kissing his inner thighs, so it came as no surprise when he became even harder when you unzipped his pants and freed his cock from the confines of his boxers.

“i’m not mad at you.” you continue speaking to him, already stroking his cock in a loving manner before licking away the beads of precum that leaked from his mushroom tip. “i know you’re working so hard to save so many lives, but i wish to spoil you, too.”

zayne’s eyes were screwed shut the moment you place your hot mouth against his cock, feeling your tongue tracing at his veins while letting out a gasp of your name. his large hands automatically go into your hair, gently moving your head back and forth over his cock.

you hummed in pleasure, feeling the familiar twitch within your mouth. you had every intention to take him in as far as you could, yet zayne doesn’t even give you a chance to taste his cum when he harshly pulls your mouth away from his cock.

with a strength you didn’t think zayne was even capable of, you feel your lover shove aside the items on his desk before placing you on it. not even looking down at you, he slides off your soaked panties before shoving it into the pockets of his pants. gripping at your thighs, he spreads your legs apart before sheathing himself inside of you in one swift thrust.

“i need to make up for lost time… for neglecting you…” with heavy pants of your name, zayne grips at your leg before tossing it over his shoulder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head the moment he reaches oh so deeper inside of you all while kissing at your ankles.

and when your moans were heard echoing across the department, no one dared to question it.

“you’re such a brat.”

xavier was heard hissing at you, trying to keep his voice even as he was on the phone with one of the higher ups at the hunters association. here he was, trying to gather information for his mission next week while you were trying to free his cock from the confines of his pants.

“i can’t help it. you’re telling me you’re going to be gone for two weeks, and you expect me to behave?” you scoff, finally shoving down his pants to reveal his half-hardened cock. a cheshire cat grin paints your pretty features as you made quick work of stroking him to full hardness.

xavier lets out a hiss of your name, but has to swallow his moans when a stern voice was heard coming from his phone. “xavier, are you ready to receive details for this mission?”

“yes sir…!” a low gasp escapes from xavier’s lips the moment you place your lips on his tip, giving it a light suck. it takes xavier a herculean effort not to moan into the phone, feeling your hands and hot mouth fully sending him into an almost painful erection.

he catches bits and pieces of information, but was solely focused on the way your mouth and tongue traces at every inch of his cock. his breathing becomes heavier, feeling his impending climax approaching when you suddenly removed your lips away from him. the young hunter was all too eager to shove your face back against his cock when you slowly began to undress in front of him-

and dammit to hell, you just had to wear that lacy set beneath your clothes!

your soft giggle echoes throughout the room, and as you straddle him, he saw the way you moved the material of your lace panties to the side, ready to mount yourself on his cock.

“you’ve got it sir, i’ll be there next week.” luckily, xavier had already ended the call the moment you sheath his cock inside of your wet pussy, the squelching sounds of you riding his cock echoing throughout the living room. with a growl of your name, xavier grabs a hold of your waist before proceeding to bounce you up and down his cock at an almost inhuman speed.

“is this what you want? for me to ruin you completely that you won’t be able to walk until i return?”

your mewls and eager nods were all that he needed to continue pounding mercilessly into you, eyes already going dilated as he had every intention of claiming you.

“i’m going to make sure that my cock is forever imprinted against your sweet little heat… so be prepared for it, little brat…” he finishes his statement with a particularly hard thrust, making you see stars as you had every intention to ride him for as long as you could manage.

rafayel had long forgotten about his commissioned painting the moment you began to eagerly bounce up and down his cock. the moment he felt your slickness wrapping so tightly around him was when he lost all train of thought.

you had come home from work late in the evening and wished to greet rafayel. however, when you saw the portrait he was working on, you began to feel envious of the gorgeous girl seen painted on the canvas. he tried to explain to you that a governor had commissioned him to paint a portrait of his daughter for her 23rd birthday, but you didn’t wish to hear it.

and now, he found that he could care less about finishing such a portrait with you bouncing up and down so eagerly against his cock. filled with his own desperation for you, rafayel tries to meet your downward thrusts with his own upward ones, panting as he begins to lose his breath.

being so captivated and drunk off of you, the young artist could feel a whimper being ripped from the confines of his throat when you began kissing him, swallowing his grunts and moans of your name. as you continued to bounce up and down his cock, he could feel the curve of your breasts and your hardened nipples against his own chest.

“am i prettier than her?” you ask in a breathless whisper, purposefully squeezing your cunt over his pulsating dick. it was no competition in rafayel’s eyes. “o-of course you are- fuck! you’re the prettiest girl in the entire universe. you’re my fucking princess.”

a pleased hum was heard coming from you when you lay back against his lap, moving your hips up and down his cock at this brand new angle that had the artist seeing stars. “f-fuck… princess… you’re squeezing me so tight! l-like you want to milk me dry.”

“hehe, that’s the plan…” feeling your legs and cunt tightening so sweetly around him makes rafayel gasp, stilling his hips before shooting ropes of his seed deep inside of you. with you remaining laid back, your back against his thighs, you allowed your release to wash over you, earning a grunt from rafayel.

as your honeyed arousal further wets his softening cock, your lover leans over to press a searing kiss against your lips all while returning your body closer to him. his tongue fights with yours for dominance, and he lets out a pleased hum the moment you yield for him.

when the need for air proved to be too much, rafayel was the first to pull away from you, giving you a gentle smile before asking, “did our copulation manage to ease you of your envy?”

you give him a thoughtful expression, placing your pointer finger against your lips before smirking at him. his eyes end up going wide when you began to bounce up and down his limp cock, stroking it back to full hardness with a determination seen deep within your eyes.

“not quite yet, rafe… i’m going to need this to go on the whole night to make me convinced that i am the only woman for you.”

and with one final groan of your name, rafayel knew better than to deny you of your needs.

end notes: i am still soooo thirsty for my lads men, so have this post 🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[voxslays]

FULL MOON

Featuring >>> Alastor x Reader; In which, Alastor is hiding his seasonal rut cycle from everyone in the hotel, including you. Unfortunately, it isn’t very long until you find out what he’s been hiding…

WARNINGS: Smut, AFAB Reader, Dub-Con??, Seasonal rut

It was late October, the time when sinners went into their seasonal ruts. For many years, Alastor had been able to pretend he was completely immune to the effects of the fall heat he felt. Being able to hide out until late November when his rut disappeared. Until this year, when you had arrived. You were a fellow deer demon, a doe to be exact. You were innocent, naive, and most of all, kind.

You knew of Alastor’s title, one he had earned from taking down and broadcasting the screams of countless overlords and other high-ranking sinners, becoming an overlord in record time. Yet, you never feared him. Alastor was curious about you, trying to truly get to know you. Not for your soul, but for you as a person. You intrigued him, entertained him. That was one of the reasons why his rut was extremely unbearable this year. He had no choice but to lock himself away from you and the other residents of the hotel—only coming out for meals—until his rut was over.

Alastor paced in his private quarters, his movements agitated and uncharacteristically erratic. The scent of your presence lingered in the halls, a sweet torment that set his nerves ablaze. He gripped the balcony railing, his claws digging into the marble as he fought to maintain control. ​​Not only did he feel the pain of his unbearable rut, but the major migraines from his shedding antlers. His antlers felt ready to drop at any moment, but not soon enough to ease his suffering.         

Alastor let out a deep groan of pain, his body wracked with tremors. He was losing control. He let out a roar of frustration, shattering several nearby floral vases. Just as Alastor is about to step into his bayou, he hears a knock on his door. Followed by a muffled voice calling his name. He quickly walks out of the miniature pocket-dimension, growing frustrated with whoever dares to interrupt his alone-time.

Alastor stormed to the door, his eyes flashing dangerously. He flung the door open, prepared to berate whoever had dared to disturb him. His words caught in his throat as he saw you standing there, your expression concerned. “Are you okay!?” You ask worriedly, pressing your hand to his burning forehead. “Do you have a fever?” Alastor's initial anger melted away, replaced by a hint of relief at your presence. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he savored the warmth of your hand. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice rough and hoarse from his recent roar. "Just a headache.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The scent of your concern was intoxicating, making his heart race. "I appreciate your worry, but I can handle it. It's just...a difficult time of year for me." He carefully states.

“Do you need anything? I’d be happy to help.” You give him a thoughtful smile. Alastor's resolve wavered at your kind offer. He wanted to accept, to lean on you, but he knew the risk. "You're too kind," he said softly, his hand coming up to cover yours on his forehead. "But I wouldn't want to burden you with my..." He trails off, his smile only slightly faltering. He paused, torn between his desire for you and his need to protect you from his rut. "...problems." He finished lamely, dropping his hand and stepping back. "I'll be fine. Just need some rest." He says, as sweat pours down his forehead, the room seemingly getting hotter and hotter. “Just come to me if you need anything. I hope you feel better soon!” You say, waving as you walk down the hall. Alastor watches you go, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to call you back, to lose himself in your comforting presence. But he knew he couldn't, not like this.

The last time Alastor had come out of his room was Sunday. It was now a Wednesday. You and the other hotel residents—mainly Charlie and Husk (for two very different reasons)—were becoming concerned. Charlie tried to convince Vaggie and you that Alastor was fine, and he probably just needed a little space—while Husk was positive Alastor was planning something. It didn’t really matter to you. You just wanted to know Alastor was okay. When Thursday rolled around, you decided enough was enough. You marched up to his room and gently knocked on the door, not sure if you would even get an answer. The knock echoed through the silent room. Alastor was sprawled on his bed, drenched in sweat and shivering. He groaned and dragged himself up, staggering to the door. He flung it open, expecting to see Charlie or Husk.

Alastor’s eyes widen when he sees you standing in the dimly lit hallway. “Where have you been!?” You ask, with a tone of concern. ​​“Wait a moment.” You say, thinking to yourself. Alastor watched you warily, his body trembling as another wave of need crashed over him. “You’re in your rut aren’t you?” You ask. You had remembered hearing somewhere that some demons could have seasonal ruts depending on their species and sins in life. From what Alastor had previously told you, it would only make sense he had entered his seasonal cycle.

Alastor's face contorted in a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and pain. "Yes," he hissed, clenching his fists at his sides. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. I can't control myself right now." He slightly trembles. “Wait-! Let me help you.” Alastor's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head vehemently. "No. Absolutely not. You can't." He trailed off, his breathing growing heavier as another surge of desire washed over him. "Please.” Your eyes meet, and you look into his crimson red pupils, now even redder with pain. “I don’t want you to suffer. Please, just let me help you.” You practically beg. Alastor's resolve wavers as he meets your gaze. The concern and care in your eyes nearly undo him. He takes a shuddering breath. "You don't know what you're offering," he warns, his voice rough with strain. "Once I start, I won't be able to stop."

“I don't care.” Something in Alastor snaps at your words. With a growl, he reaches out and gently pulls you into the room, slamming the door shut. He pins you against it, his body flush against yours. "Last chance to run," ​​You don’t dare move, too lost in his gaze. Alastor's eyes burn with an intense hunger as he looks at you. Without another word, he claims your mouth in a brutal, possessive kiss. His hands roam over your body, seeking relief from the torment. "Fuck," Alastor curses against your lips, his voice shaking with need. You gently cup his antlers, rubbing tender circles around them, relieving pain.

A low groan escapes him as you touch his antlers. He grinds himself against you, seeking friction. "More." Alastor pants out. His fingers nimbly unzipping the back of your dress, pushing it off your shoulders, and slowly sliding it off, watching it pool at your feet. His gaze drinks in the sight of you bare before him. His touch becomes gentler, reverent, as he explores every curve and line of your body. He leans down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, his hands sliding up your thighs and wrapping around to squeeze your backside. "So beautiful," His mouth travels lower, tracing the swell of your breast, his tongue flicking out to taste you. His body shudders as another wave of heat washes over him. He lifts you up in his arms, carrying you to his bed. He laid down, positioning you astride his hips. 

He guides your hips, helping you take him inside. A low moan rumbles in his chest at the exquisite feeling of you enveloping him. His hands grip your thighs as he starts to move, setting a deep, powerful rhythm. "That's it," He praises breathlessly ​​as you let out little whimpers and whines. The sound of your whimpers spurs him on, his pace quickening. He reaches between you, his calloused fingers finding the bundle of nerves at your core and stroking it rhythmically. You cry out, your nails digging into his back. Alastor's expression contorts with pleasure and pain. He lets out a guttural growl, his hips jerking up sharply. He wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your stomach without breaking your union. 

His movements become feverish, his breath coming in short pants. You scream in pleasure, your face being gently pressed down into the pillow. His thrusts become brutal, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke. The force of his movements causes the headboard to bang against the wall. He reaches under you, his fingers finding your mouth, shoving them inside. He leans down, his chest pressed against your back as he pistons into you. His hips stutter as he reaches his peak, a deep groan torn from his throat as he spilled deep inside you. He bites down into your shoulder, his teeth breaking your skin.

You whimper, gripping the sheets beneath you with all your strength. As he comes down from his high, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, pressing them against your lips to silence any cries. He lays his head against your back, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Shh, my love," He whispers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. You gently roll over, gently gripping his shoulders as you let out quick, shallow breaths. Alastor's gaze drops to where your bodies are still joined. He lets out a pleased rumble as he feels you tighten around him once more. He grins at you, his sharp, yellow teeth glistening with your blood.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead. He chuckles, nipping gently at your chin. "Mmm, you look delicious like that, my dear. All sweaty and disheveled.” You let out a quick breathy pant. “I am exhausted.” Your body is still slightly trembling. He grins wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good. That means I did my job right.” He flexes his hips, his body stirring once more. “And only seventy hours to go.” Only seventy…What!?

[dira333]

A private man - Suo Hayato x Reader

My first Wind Breaker fic y'all. For @revasserium

“Would you love me if I was a worm?” Suo turns at your question, his visible eye crinkled in a seemingly kind smile. But you know him better.

“That depends. What kind of worm would you be?”

“Well, what do you think?” You lean back in your chair, drape yourself in it like you’re posing for a picture.

“Ah, when you’re sitting like that, I can’t help but think of the King Ragworm. Some deem them the most beautiful worms in the world.”

You fluster a bit at the compliment. “So, uh… you’d love me?”

“No.” He turns away, leaves you to scramble for something to say.

“But I’m your girlfriend.”

“Ah,” he turns back, smiling. “And I love you.” You try to catch a breath before his smile slips away again. “But I’d not love you if you were a worm.”

- - -

“The kid’s coming by again,” your father says as you clean the dojo. Training today was hard, but fulfilling, like it is most days. 

“You could offer him a spot,” you say, trying not to show your emotions on your face. You know you’re not as successful as you should be, as you want to be.

Your father hums low in his throat before sending you a look you know too well. 

“Something has me thinking he’s not just here for the training.”

And you want to agree. Laugh about it. But it’s not that easy.

-

“Hey,” you close the door behind you, shut your father in and yourself out. Or maybe it’s the other way around.

Suo smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eye. You’ve grown aware of the mask he carries, though you’re unsure how to look behind it. 

“Hello.” 

“Care for a walk?” You lift the bag of dirty laundry on your shoulder, lead the way without looking back. You’re almost sure he’ll follow.

Today he’s quiet. So you let him be.

The first few times you’ve found him lingering around the questions had fallen out of his mouth like marbles, like he’d been holding them too tight, too many all at once. Maybe he’s outgrown his curiosity for you just as you’ve grown curious of him.

He knows how long your family has owned the Dojo, how long you’ve trained, where you go to school, even your name. But that’s all you know of him. His name. 

Sure, you’ve noticed that he doesn’t smile with his eyes or that he wears a patch over his right eye. But you’ve never gotten as far as to ask about it.

Today, training hasn’t drained you. Not that it wasn’t tiring. You’re the best fighter in your father’s dojo, sure to go on in his footsteps. But you’ve noticed lately that the other students no longer challenge you. Or maybe you’re just on edge. 

Dreaming of Suo certainly doesn’t help your nerves, not that those dreams stop when daylight arrives.

“Would you-” Suo interrupts himself, lifts the laundry bag off your shoulder as you arrive at the laundromat. 

“Yes?” You ask, embarrassingly breathless.

“Nothing.”

“Oh.” You look away, listen to his footsteps disappearing down the hallway as you fill the first machine.

“Here.” He’s offering you a bottle of tea. “I noticed you like this one.”

“Oh, thanks. What do you get-”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, stares through the dirty window at the empty parking lot outside.

“What do you want for it then?” Your heart is hammering against your ribs.

For a long while, there’s just the sound of the machine whirring behind you. If Suo’s got a talent then it’s being so quiet, standing so still, that you just might forget about him. And then, when you do that… he strikes.

“Fight me?” He asks. You take the first deep breath in weeks.

-

Suo says he didn’t know beauty until he saw you fight.

Suo says it tastes different to lose if he’s losing to you.

Suo says…

“You know,” you say one harsh December morning, your breath glowing white in the morning light. “This reminds me of that one Anime. What was the name… One Piece, I think?”

Suo laughs, hands in his pockets, staring up at the sky.

“Are you saying I’m Zoro?” 

“Maybe,” you smile cheekily, watch as he reciprocates the gesture. This time, his eye’s smiling too. “But I’m Kuina for sure.”

“No.” He shakes his head slowly before moving fast, his hand grabbing yours with a strength that surprises. “You’re not Kuina.”

“Who am I then?” You ask, breathless.

There are a million answers to this question. You are yourself. You are his teacher. His friend. Maybe even the girl he could love.

But Suo doesn’t answer. He just cocks his head and smiles, like he’s just thought of a joke he’s not willing to tell.

“Why are you asking me?”

-

Training isn’t that expensive. 

Your father makes sure that even those who are low-income can attend his classes. 

Still, you’ve got a feeling Suo doesn’t even have that kind of money to spare.

Not that he talks about it. And when he does, he’s sure to tell you everything but the truth.

“How did you get that eyepatch?”

“It is to hide the ancient spirit that is sealed away.”

You’ve grown used to it like you’ve grown used to the way he fights. Ever changing. Never quite the same as he was the day before.

He’s good. And he’s going to be better than you.

“I think you should let him join,” you tell your father one night, doing the dishes after dinner. He stops drying the plate he’s holding to watch you, conversing, like often, through something other than words.

“Tell him to come by next week.” He puts the plate away. “I suppose you want to have a few days to convince him.”

-

“Here,” you drop the pouch in Suo’s hands, cross your arms to hide the tremor in your fingers. “This is for you.”

Suo stares for a while before he opens it, lets the tassel earrings drop into his open palm.

“What are they for?” 

“My father… I… You can start next Monday.”

For a second, his features harden. It’s gone the next moment but you’ve always been observant.

“You don’t want to?” You ask.

“Do you want me to?” He turns the question around. Your fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt.

“I want you to want it.” You tell him honestly, let your tongue run loose. “I want you to want me.”

Suo stays silent, so you grab your broken heart from the ground and put it back in your chest, knowing that it will take some time to figure out how to beat again.

“You can come in on Monday or you can stay away, that’s your choice. But if you don’t come, I don’t want to see you again.”

You wish you could say that walking away was easy. That you didn’t turn at the corner to look back. That he was still there when you turned.

But you can’t. So you don’t.

-

Monday rolls around. The students assemble. Suo isn’t among them.

Your father calls you over, asks you to take care of the beginners. It’s easy work but distracting. They tend to hurt themselves more than their opponents.

You miss the door opening. Miss the footsteps, quiet but well-aimed. Miss everything but your father clearing his throat.

“Ah, our new student.”

And when you turn, Suo’s looking at you, the yellow strands of the tassel earrings twinkling in the sunlight.

When he smiles at you, his eye smiles along.

- - -

“Is that your girlfriend, Suo?” A blond boy asks as they approach the street, the school quieting behind them.

“No, no,” Suo smiles, “That’s my master.” He bows before you, hands pressed together.

You mock the serious gesture by pressing a kiss against his temple when he raises, winking at the blond.

“So you’re telling them lies?” You ask as you link your arms, taking a left turn as the blond and his friend take a right. 

“No lies, my dear. I’m just being a little creative with the truth.”

“Ah.” You smile. “So that’s what you call it.”

“Don’t fret.” He pulls you in when you turn the corner, the street quiet and lonely around you. Suo’s a private man, always has been, always will be. Maybe that’s why his kisses taste so sweet. “I’m telling you the truth, ain’t I?”

[amethystwrytes]

Safe. (Part Five)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous. 

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only MDNI.

Chapter WC: 5K

AN: (1) Two chapters in one week feels excessive - but it's finished, and it’s Minho's BIRTHDAY after all, and also I think I’d like to start posting on Fridays anyway. (2) I don’t want to talk about the unspeakably preposterous and unbelievable practicality/mechanics of one of these smut scenes. You will know it when you see it and you will shush. *Suspension of disbelief rabble rabble*. Thank you, that is all.

~ PART FIVE ~ [Series M. List Here]

You’re setting the table for supper when you hear the key to the front door twist in the lock. Your stomach hardens and you eye Christopher sitting in the living room. You wonder when someone will be able to open your front door without you thinking that they’re going to come barreling through to hurt you, but it’s only Minho. 

“You can go,” Minho casually instructs Chris, who instantly stands and gives you a nod.

“Here,” you call Christopher over, and hand him a to-go box. You made way too much and even though you’re still sore at him for spilling your secrets, you want the man to eat. He takes it with a smile and a thank you, then heads out. 

Minho waits for him to shut it completely before joining you in the kitchen. 

“God that smells amazing, what did you make?” he wraps his hands around you from behind, his head dipping into the small of your neck and shoulder. 

“Spicy chicken, fried rice, and a cucumber salad because I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of you eat a fucking vegetable,” you smile. 

He chuckles, “You take such good care of us,” he smiles against your face before kissing your cheek. 

You briefly eye the front door, “Where’s Hyunjin?” 

Minhos cheerful expression fades for a split second, but he plucks a cucumber slice out of the bowl and corrects himself, “He went home to clean up a bit. He’s coming.” 

“You didn’t clean up?” you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Love, I’ve been doing this a long time, trust me when I say I’m clean as a whistle,” he explains. 

You shrug, “Okay, but it’s not polite to eat before everyone arrives, so put that salad in the refrigerator to keep it cool please,” you instruct as you slide the chicken and rice into the oven to keep warm. 

Minho does as he’s told, surprisingly, then looks at you, “I’m sorry.” 

Your brows furrow, “Sorry?” 

He nods, “I’m sorry for what I said to you in your room that day, I’m sorry for threatening to frame you for selling drugs out of the house, I’m sorry for ever giving you a reason to think I would hurt you.” 

You’d been thinking all afternoon of how you want to talk, of what you want to say to both of them this evening, but this you were not expecting. 

You let out a steady breath and nod, “I guess what I wonder then, is why? Why would you say those things? If you truly never intended to hurt me, then why would you say such awful things?” 

He presses his lips into a line and traces the streaks in the marble countertop. 

“Well?” you urge. 

“I’ve acted the way I’ve acted because I wanted you to hate me. You can’t lose people you love if you love no one and no one loves you. My feelings would be easier to resolve and manage if you hated me,” he smiles sadly, “but when you said you weren’t comfortable being seen with me, I realized having you hate me was exceptionally painful, so I did what I do when I get hurt or angry and acted like a fucking asshole. When you looked at me that day, scared and sad…I realized that I’d fucked up.”

“You are so…” you sigh, “Unstable. You know that, right?” 

“Yes,” he chuckles, “I’m aware.” 

You think of his wife and your heart aches for him again, “Were you ever going to tell me about her?” you wonder. 

His eyes widen a bit, he doesn’t need any clarification to know who you’re asking about. 

“Seola? I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “Probably…eventually. I don’t talk about her often, I don’t…I don’t like to. How did you find out about her?” 

“Jisoo did my hair and makeup for the Casino night,” you tell him, you can’t quite measure if he’s upset about you knowing or not, and you don’t want to throw Christopher under the bus, despite his loose lips. Jisoo feels like a safer option. 

He sighs, “Seola…I loved her with my whole heart. I told her early on that she should stay as far away from me as possible, but she wouldn’t,” he smiles. “When she was taken from me, I never thought I’d ever be able to have feelings for anyone else, I didn’t want to. Then you and I met, and at first I thought I could treat you like the other people I’ve slept with over the past few years, use you the way you were using me - for human contact, to feel good, but…” he trails off, unsure of how to explain it. 

“...but it feels like more,” you finish for him. 

“Yes,” he nods, stepping closer to you, taking your face gently between his hands, “it does.” 

He leans down slowly, gently, and kisses your lips. 

“Please don’t leave us,” he whispers, “don’t leave me.” 

“Then don’t ever make me feel like I need to be afraid of you,” you whisper back. 

“I won’t,” he answers. 

“Don’t let them hurt me again,” you add. 

“No one will ever lay a hand on you again baby, not as long as I’m breathing,” he promises.

You press your lips against his, pull his shirt with your fingertips, drawing him into you. His tongue traces the lines of your bottom lip and you greet it with your own. You melt as his hands roam your body, under your shirt to squeeze and caress the warm skin. You moan into his mouth and he pushes you against the countertops. 

You feel him falter and he pulls away, the two of you staring at each other; you wondering why he stopped, and him looking hindered by something unseen. 

“Do you have feelings for Hyunjin?” he asks. You were expecting this question from one or both of them at some point this evening, but it still hits you abrasively. You’re not willing to lie though. If you’re doing this, all of it, then there is no room for a growing pile of lies between you. 

“Yes.” 

“Do you have feelings for me?” 

“Yes, I do,” you nod, lifting your fingers to his hair to play with the dark strands. 

“That’s going to get extremely messy,” he warns. 

“Then it will fit right in, because all of this is a mess,” you say, looking hard at the floor. He lifts your chin up so your gaze finds his. 

“Is that really what you want? Both of us? I need to know.” 

You think for a moment, think about how you should answer, think about what his response is going to be. 

“I want you both.” 

“Is it because I’m not enough? Or because he’s not enough?” he asks, and you hear the defense in his voice, the blow to his pride and it pains you. 

You shake your head, lace your fingers with his, “It’s not that. Not at all.  You are both more than enough. It’s because you both make me feel things that I crave, because you are two polar opposite men, who make me feel so strongly, and so good when I’m with you but in such very different ways, and maybe I’m just being selfish, I know I am actually, but I don’t want to give up the way I feel when I’m with either of you.” 

Minho is about to respond when the knock on the door drags both your attentions away from the conversation. 

“It’s me, Hyunjin,” a muffled voice calls out from behind the door. 

You squeeze Minhos arm and he lays his hand over yours, giving you a halfhearted smile, but a smile, and that’s better than nothing. 

You cross the space and open the front door to Hyunjins sweet smile, the top half of his jet black hair tied up into a wet bun, the scent of his shampoo still fragrant. 

“Hi,” you smile. 

“Hi beautiful.” 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Dinner starts out dreadfully silent. So silent in fact that you can barely touch your food. Minho and Hyunjin dig in though, stuffing chicken, rice and cucumbers in at an alarming pace that makes you smile. They’re used to silence, to awkwardness. They’ve learned to navigate it, thrive in it, and carry on regardless of the tension. 

“Well, I’d ask you both how your day was but I suppose I know,” you finally attempt a joke, but it doesn’t come out like you intended it to and no one laughs, including you. You grab the cold beer you served with the chicken and take a very long swig. 

Minho wipes his mouth with a napkin and gives you a soft, understanding look, “You wanted us here Love, it’s your meeting so to speak,” he says. 

Hyunjin looks between the two of you as he chews his food, he seems to understand he’s missed part of the conversation, the conversation you started with Minho but this is all ass backwards and not how you wanted to start your ‘meeting.’ 

“Alright, yes,” you clear your throat, “I do have things I want to discuss with both of you.” 

Both men take a break from eating and sit a little straighter, giving you their full attention. You realize now that your hope at a more casual conversation over food was a fruitless endeavor, these men are too serious for casual. 

“I realized something today,” you begin, “I’ve realized that despite what I’ve told myself the past several months, that I am part of this organization. I’ve helped all of you at one point or another, and maybe I’ve just helped in the least criminal of ways, but I have committed crimes with you whether I like it or not. I’ve heard things, I know names, I know what you’ve done, and the things you intend to do, I am an accomplice,” you say it out loud and although it makes it real, there is a part of you that’s relieved to say it to just get it out there. 

Neither Hyunjin or Minho say anything so you continue, “I was going to run, but I think that running away would just mean that I’m running straight into more trouble for myself, for one. But also…” you trail off, “but also, I don’t want to run away from either of you.” 

Hyunjin looks at Minho so quickly that you think it could give him whiplash, but Minho doesn’t react to any of it. 

“But before we talk about that, or what that means, or how to even navigate it, I have terms I’d like to lay out,” you look at both of them. 

“What are your terms Love?” Minho asks, all business, and you wonder if he’s about to produce a pen and notebook to take notes in. 

“First, I don’t like the way some of your guys speak to me as if I’m your personal fuck toy,” you say. 

“Seungmin.” 

Hyunjin and Minho say his name simultaneously. 

“Okay yes, Seungmin, but I don’t want him punished or whatever. I would just like it made clear that while we don’t have to like each other, we don’t need to speak so disrespectfully to one another, and not to sound like a child but he always starts it,” you take another swig of beer. Minho looks as though he’s holding in a chuckle and this puts you at ease a bit. 

“It will be made clear to him and to all my employees that you are to be treated and spoken to with absolutely nothing but respect,” Minho nods with a smile, “What else?” 

“I don’t want to know everything, I don’t need to know everything, but I also don’t want to be treated like Christopher - as just an employee who does as she’s told and is only told the bare minimum. I want to be trusted, and I want you to talk to me freely about things that you need to get off your mind, or things that impact me in any way,” you say. 

“Trust is earned,” Minho says, “but after everything you’ve been through, I believe you’ve more than earned it, so done.” 

“Finally,” you take a breath, “it’s been hard for me since the night I got attacked to be alone here, or anywhere for that matter, and I know you both have things that need done, that you can’t be here all the time, and I appreciate Christopher, and Jisung, and the others…but I want you two - not necessarily at the same time - but I want the two of you.” 

The room sinks back into that familiar silence again and you wait impatiently for someone to say something, you fork some chicken and stuff it in your mouth for something to do. 

“Fine, I’ll be the one to say it,” Hyunjin half laughs, “Are we talking about fucking each other or protection detail?” 

It’s Minhos turn to take an uncomfortably large swig of beer and you have to force the small bite of chicken down your throat roughly. 

“I…well…” you stutter, “In this specific moment I’m talking about who is here in the house with me,” you clarify. 

“And what about outside this specific moment?” Minho asks for more clarification and you realize that the time has come, whether you were ready for it or not, to tell them both what you actually want. Is it what you want? You’ve never attempted a relationship that had more than two people in it, but none of those relationships turned out very well so you can’t really cite them as reliable sources, can you? 

“Honestly?” you inhale deeply and let it go, “Honestly, I wouldn’t be opposed to having you both in the other way at the same time, I’ve never done that before, it would be my first time - but the thought of it makes me wet just imagining it.” 

Hyunjin bites his bottom lip and sits back in his seat. To say you’re suddenly feeling warm is an understatement, so you chug the rest of your beer then get up for another. 

“What do you think about that?” Minho asks Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin licks his lips and you think you might combust, “Well, it wouldn’t be my first time,” he says with a smile that might be a little too proud, “it could be lots of fun,” he says avoiding eye contact with Minho and only looking at you. You swallow hard. 

“How many times have the two of you…” Minho starts, but you answer before he can finish.

“Hyunjin and I have never had sex,” you tell him, trying to keep any emotion from your voice like how it’s a bit disappointing that you’ve not slept with Hyunjin, or how you’re scared that Minho will be upset if you’d said you had, or how excited you are that you might actually get fucked by both of the men sitting with you at this table. 

“Hmm,” Minho nods, “I see.” 

“What do you think about it, boss?” Hyunjin finally looks at him, “We both said we didn’t want to share after all.” 

Only Hwang Hyunjin could look at Lee Minho and say that without it sounding like a challenge, like a threat. 

Minho exhales slowly and shrugs, “It may be a shock to some, but I’m not a closed minded man, however, I am a possessive one,” he looks at you and chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing with consideration, “so the answer to your question is that I’m not sure.” 

Your heart sinks a little, and you’re unsure of what to say. 

“We can work with possessive,” Hyunjin says, the corners of his mouth slipping into a coy smile, as if he’s flirting with Minho and your clit throbs, you can feel the way you’re soaked and you press your thighs together.

“Oh?” is all Minho responds with. 

“Mm,” Hyunjin nods, “I’m not a power player, I don’t have to be a top, I don’t have to be a bottom, I’m not picky, and you should know by now I’m very good at being told what to do.” 

You watch as Minhos expression changes, he looks at Hyunjin in a way you’ve never seen him look at any of his guys before, and then he looks at you, “You’re being awfully quiet now darling.” 

It takes you a solid three seconds to realize he’s talking to you, you’re gripping the neck of your beer so hard it might bust. 

“I’m just, thoroughly enjoying this conversation,” you grin. 

“How much?” he asks. 

Well. That was an invitation if you’ve ever heard one. You swallow your sip of beer and stand, shuffling out the wrinkles of your cotton skirt and step closer to him, “Would you like to see?” you ask, bunching up the skirt in your fists higher and higher until the tops of your thighs are exposed. 

Minho chews his lip as his fingertips trace delicate lines up your legs, finally disappearing beneath the fabric, pushing your panties to the side so he can swirl them in your arousal. You gasp, tilting your head back as he moves his fingers against you. 

“My, my,” he whispers, voice gravelly with want, and he looks as if he wants to knock everything off the table to fuck you on it. You wouldn’t be opposed. 

Hyunjin sits motionless on the other side, watching, and though you’ve never really considered how it would make you feel, you find that having him watch feels very good. 

Minho removes his fingers from your cunt and uses them to motion Hyunjin over. Your heart starts pounding. Hyunjin moves slowly, but you can see his erection straining against his pants. 

“So Hyunjin has never played with you?” Minho asks, his eyes on Hyunjin. 

“We’ve kissed…” you manage to speak between catching your breath. 

“But he’s never tasted you? Your pussy that is?” 

You shake your head back and forth. 

“Go on then,” Minho looks at him darkly, touching Hyunjins mouth with his fingertips, spreading your slick across his bottom lip. Hyunjin sucks Minhos fingers into his mouth hungrily, a groan escaping from somewhere deep in his chest. 

“I have to admit, knowing he’s not had you is pretty satisfying to me,” Minho chuckles, yanking his fingers from Hyunjins mouth, “I wonder how far I can push him before he comes undone?” he stands from the table, “Has everyone eaten? No ones starving anymore?” he asks the two of you and finishes off his beer. 

“Not for food,” Hyunjin comments and winks at you. 

“Then let’s go to the living room, shall we?” Minho grabs your hand and pulls you forward, Hyunjin following close behind. 

Minho kisses you deeply, then takes a seat in the armchair, “Why don’t you help our girl out of her pretty clothes?” 

“Gladly,” Hyunjin whispers, taking the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, he tosses it across the room then drops to his knees as you unzip the side of your skirt. He helps you shimmy it down into a pool of fabric around your feet and you step away from it. Hyunjin looks up at you, his eyes scanning your body, and he hooks his fingers into your underwear, pulling them slowly down your legs. 

“Don’t even think about putting your lips on her, not yet, I say when,” Minho instructs from the chair. Hyunjin freezes as if that’s exactly what he was about to do. 

“Yes sir,” Hyunjin grins. 

You want to interject and say that if Minho doesn’t give the go ahead soon, you might be the one coming undone, but you stay silent, you’re not sure what to do anyway, and something in your gut tells you it needs to happen like this, for them, in order for Minho to be right with it. 

“Sit on the sofa, Love,” Minho tells you and you sit, like a good girl, on the sofa then look at him for further instruction. He laughs, “You look so eager darling, so fucking turned on, do you want me to be nice for you?” 

“Yes,” you nod frantically, “Please.” 

“Do you want him to taste your cunt finally?” 

“Mmhmm,” you keep nodding, leaning back into the cushions, kneading your breasts. 

“Spread your legs for him, so he can see how fucking gorgeous you are,” he instructs. 

You nearly go out of your mind watching Hyunjin crawl between your legs, his fingernails raking red lines up your thighs. Hyunjin looks behind at Minho for permission. 

“First,” Minho halts him, “take your shirt and pants off, you look dreadfully uncomfortable.” 

Hyunjin smiles and tears his shirt over his head, then stands briefly to remove his trousers before resuming his position between your legs. 

“Now, make our princess cum,” Minho grins. 

Hyunjin does what he’s told, but he also takes his sweet time, licking and sucking kisses on the inside of your thighs and you wonder if he’s savoring the moment like you. This heated, passionate affair that seems to have been building up since the night you sewed stitches into his side. 

Finally, he grabs hold of your thighs roughly and drags you to the edge of the sofa, “you ready Doll?” 

“God, yes…” 

His tongue is eager against your flesh, but in true Hyunjin fashion, is also quick, soft, controlled and deliberate. He was told to make you cum, and he’s honing in on that target like his life depends on it. 

“How does it feel, baby?” Minho asks and you manage to turn your head towards him, “let’s hear you.” 

“It feels so fucking good, he’s so good at it,” you whimper, looking back down at Hyunjin. His eyes lock with yours and you watch as his tongue appears and disappears between your folds. You rest your head back onto the sofa and moan, your hips beginning to move in time with his mouth, you’re so close. 

“She’s about to cum, I can tell by her face,” Minho smiles, and you nod, unable to verbally confirm this, “let go baby, cum for him.” 

Minhos deep, gravelly command paired with Hyunjins soft tongue lapping at you pushes you far beyond your capacity to hold yourself back. Your body quakes as your orgasm ripples over and over, your clit becoming so sensitive you have to physically push Hyunjins face away with your hands and plea with a quiet “stop.” 

Hyunjin is totally out of breath as he sits back on his ankles, he wipes his mouth with his arm, eyes dark, and looks at Minho. 

“How close are you to busting?” Minho chuckles. 

“Very.” 

Minho licks his lips, then unzips his pants, releasing his own cock from the confines of his clothes. He strokes himself gently then nods his head towards you, “Go on then, she loves getting fucked right after you eat her out, don’t you baby?” 

“Yes,” you groan, “Very much.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate a moment before ripping his boxers down and kicking them away, he takes your shoulders and shoves you down onto the sofa, propping one of your legs on the back and sliding between. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” Hyunjin warns. 

“It’s okay,” you breathe, “you don’t have to make me cum again.” 

“Yes he does,” Minho says coolly from the chair, “yes he fucking does.” 

“Heard,” Hyunjin manages to tease. 

Hyunjin lines himself up with you as you dig your nails into his shoulders, desperate for it, needing it. He pushes in slowly, and your eyes lock as he fills you to the hilt. Your lips part and you wiggle a bit, urging him to move, he does. He’s going impossibly slow, his brows knitted together in concentration. 

“Fuck you’re perfect,” he moans, his hips speeding up just a bit. You can’t help but steal a look at Minho, who watches you both from the same chair he’s been sitting in, slowly stroking himself, lip tucked tightly between his teeth. 

You lift your hips a bit to meet Hyunjins thrusts, sliding your hands down his sides, around his thighs to pull him closer, deeper. 

“Hyunjin,” you whisper, his name a plea for him to do something, though you’re unsure of what. Feeling his cock drag in and out, hitting some delicious spot within, watching Minho look and hearing his little gasps every time you whimper or moan might actually be your undoing. 

Hyunjins movements become more desperate, more erratic, and you’re sure he won’t be able to hold himself back much longer. You take his face in your hands and he looks at you, “Make me cum,” you gently drag his hand down to your neck, his breath stutters as he wraps his long, delicate fingers around your throat to hold you down gently while he fucks into you. You push back with every thrust, causing a rough but welcome collision and you cum so hard around his cock that you can feel it in your very bones. You cry out, hips bucking just a bit off the sofa as you spasm around him. 

He thrusts into you only twice more before freezing, his breath escaping in a muffled moan as he buries his face into your neck. 

Hyunjin pulls you towards him and captures your lips with his.

“Perfect,” he whispers. 

Minho finally makes his way to the couch, Hyunjin moves aside, practically collapsing. 

“Feel better?” Minho smiles, rubbing circles on your legs. 

You nod, claiming his hand in yours to lace your fingers together. 

He looks between your legs, “You’re a mess,” he drags the back of his finger up your slit, swirling Hyunjins leaking fluids around your own. You shudder with a gasp at the stimulation. 

“Come, let’s go upstairs,” Minho stands and extends his hand to you; he pauses briefly in front of Hyunjin and stares, then caresses his jawline with his thumb, “you did good, impressive. Come on.” 

Minho leads you both into the master bath where he reaches into the walk-in to start a shower. You step close to him and start undoing the buttons of his shirt, looking up at him as he strokes your hair. You continue silently undressing him until the three of you stand totally naked in the middle of your steamy bathroom. 

Minho grabs your chin with his fingertips and draws you into him, his mouth desperate for yours and your lips crash together with urgent moans. In your peripheral you can see Hyunjin step into the shower and rinse himself off, he reaches out and tugs on you and Minho, who barely takes his mouth off you to shuffle into the warm water. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Minho asks in a grunt as he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Wanted to be our needy little slut, so fucking pretty and sweet, getting fucked out by both of us?” he whispers as your back presses against the cold stone of the shower wall. 

You grin like the cheshire cat and nod, “Mmhmm.” 

Minho smiles and shakes his head at you before his lips overtake yours again, and you also feel Hyunjins hands roaming as he puts himself between your back and the wall, his body much warmer and less scratchy than the stone. You can feel Minhos hard erection sliding against your soaked pussy and your breath hitches. Hyunjins wet hands slide around your body and he fingers at your nipples, stroking and squeezing. Minho leans in and you watch through the steam as he takes Hyunjins mouth with his own, his cock rubbing against your clit as he positions himself to fuck you against Hyunjin. 

This exceeds even your highest expectation of what this experience would be like. Feeling Minho bouncing you on his cock while you listen to the two of them moan into each others mouths, Hyunjins fingers circling your clit gently while the other hand takes turns playing with your breasts and yanking your hair to tilt your head back for neck kisses. 

“Fuck,” you whine, the impossible ache inside you is building again, you can’t remember the last time you orgasmed three times in one evening, or if you ever have, but you’re going to. 

“Gonna cum for me Love?” Minho presses his forehead against yours, breathless, pumping his hips up into you. 

“Yes,” you half laugh in delirium, “Fuck, yes keep going…” 

You can feel his fingertips digging into the sides of your ass, feel how desperate he is to finish, you lean your head forward to kiss him, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting as you reach your high. Your orgasm comes out in a choked gasp, your body completely spent, and you feel him pull out a bit and spill himself all over your cunt. 

Hyunjin washes you off while Minho catches his breath then the three of you, unbothered to put on clothes or even dry off, collapse on your bed, drops of water everywhere but no one caring. 

You’re not surprised that Minho pulls you in immediately, wrapping his arm around you tight - possessive. 

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you sigh, eyes already shut and sleep getting closer and closer to overtaking you. 

“Pleasure isn’t a bad thing people,” Hyunjin yawns, switches off the lamp, then flips to his side to properly sandwich you in. His long, lean arm draped over you while his fingers massage circles on Minhos shoulder. “It’s not this thing that has to be confined in a specific little box, used for one specific purpose at a time like it isn’t supposed to just be this fun, enjoyable thing-,” 

“Hyunjin?” Minho grumbles with closed eyes. 

“Yes boss?”

“Stop talking and go to sleep.” 

“Yes boss,” he laughs.

Endnotes:

I think I'm going to try to tag my taglist besties in the comments this time and see how that goes and where it takes us.

As usual, if you've made it far enough to read this, here's your virtual smooch <3

[ayeyolooo]

You and I we’re made of glass, we’d never last.

🎧-tumblr girls, g eazy

You and eren were currently going through a disagreement. You’ve had many arguments and disagreements before but this one? This was the worst one of them all. You were throwing dishes at him having him dodge them and scream at you. “WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM Y/N!” Eren screamed as your marbled white glass dishes shattered into many pieces on the floor. “You! you’re my problem eren are you really okay with doing that how could you??” You shouted with tears coating your eyes.

“Do what y/n? You’re my woman, I gave you my virginity and a house, a family ..everything.” Eren’s voice cracked as he looked at you with tear coated eyes. See eren wasn’t really an emotional person, but you the chalant in the nonchalant was chalanting. “Why are you cheating on me eren??” Erens heart dropped. Wow.. eren thought. “You really think that I’d cheat on you y/n? Really??” Tears streamed down erens face right along with yours.

Your nails cracked as you wipes your face. “I don’t know what to expect from you eren. You lie to me a lot.” You said sniffing and chuckling a little. Erens Adam apple just bobbed as he nodded his head in disbelief. “Are you serious y/n?” He asked looking at you with so much hurt in his eyes. “Yes.” You said with a sour expression on your face. Eren just sniffed and shook his head. “You believe everything everyone says y/n rather than your own husband and that’s a shame.” Eren said walking to your bedroom. You followed quickly with tears in your eyes.

“Where are you going?” You sniffed and leaned on the door. Eren just ignored you and allowed tears to fall on his cheeks. “I’m leaving you alone, y/n I love you but we need a break. I need a mental break you’re hurting me a lot y/n. I’m trying to be there for you. I’m trying to be the best husband and father but y/n you’re making it hard for me.” Eren sniffed and looked at you with his unique teal eyes. “Don’t cry.” Even though he was crying he still walked over to you and wiped your tears away. “I don’t want you to leave me.” You cried harder. You’ve gotten so attached to eren that you don’t want to lose him, but you can see that you weren’t being kind to him. “Listen I’m going to go to armin’s and ony’w for a few days and give you some time to think okay?” He said placing some baby clothes in his bag too. Wait not my baby too I’m going to take Imani and give you some time I love you y/n eren said carefully picking up y’all’s newborn and kisses your forehead before walking out of the room.

Yes I wrote eren with emotions because boys telling us their emotions needs to be normalized 😭.

Remember Jesus loves you <3

[revehae]

two days ago, this blog turned two years old. well, that’s if you ignore the fact that i accidentally deleted my blogs this january. in spite of that, so many of you are still here with me and have been supportive even when i was quite literally losing my marbles. you guys have been patient through my periods of inactivity and reread my fics with the same amount of appreciation for them as you had the first read - if not more. and for that, i say thank you.

but i’m also saying goodbye.

just kidding! i was being serious for too long and so i felt the need to potentially strike some fear into someone’s heart for fun. anywho, no, i’m not actually leaving. not yet, anyway. there is so much more i want to do with this blog and so many ideas i want to share that will most likely carry on to the following year. so yeah, you guys are still stuck with me.

am i taking the two-year anniversary of a mostly k-pop tumblr blog teeming with dark, degenerate fantasies that ought to get me stoned by stubby, hairy ogres way too seriously? perhaps. but i’ll never forget what this blog means to me. i’m in a place now where my trauma is no longer something i feel suffocated by or bound to, but when i created this blog, i admit that there were still large parts of me that felt like i was “broken.” this was only possible because i found safe places where i could acknowledge it without fear of being judged, blamed, or attacked.

i realize not everyone has those places. one of the greatest delights i have is being able to own a blog where people with similar experiences as me are able to confront their pain in a way that makes them feel safe, comfortable, and most importantly, in control.

i went through periods of time where i wouldn’t even leave my room because i was so terrified of being subjected to the same nightmare again. i couldn’t go out in public, because when i did, i was constantly worried that someone was out to give me. this affected my relationships with my friends, family, myself, sex, the world - everything. it is a hell i wouldn’t even wish on Trumpington McDonaldton. or would i? just kidding. not really, considering his track record. but, back to the point, i know what it’s like to live in the dark. i know how unfair it is that someone can swoop in, ruin your life, and never, ever face consequences. meanwhile, you are staring at the consequences of what someone else did every single day. i know what it’s like to blame yourself. i know what it’s like to wish that things were different.

but i also know that as unfair as it is, as painful as it is, and as hard as it may be to accept, no one is going to single-handedly fix you. you have to be your own healer. you have to put the work in to build yourself back up and bounce back stronger than ever. i know firsthand how intimidating that can be, however, in my experience, the first step was not hiding from what i’d gone through. in a way that i originally never thought would be possible, writing and reading noncon fics was one of the most helpful ways of doing that. everything about this blog has been extremely cathartic for me. and the best part about it is that many of you have told me it’s cathartic for you as well, which fills me with a glee words cannot describe.

now, of course, my blog is not limited to Traumatized Individuals who had their brains rewired in the worst way possible via some negative experience - although i doubt you’re not still somehow traumatized if you religiously read my content. if you aren’t a victim of SA, you aren’t going to be crucified for reading noncon. it’s okay. don’t worry. but still, i will always support and stand up for those that are, even if they don’t cope in the same way as me. because not reading is also okay. there are so many different ways to cope with SA; i’m just happy to provide one of them to those that seek it out.

again, thank you all! thank you to those that have been here since the beginning. thank you to those that followed me this week. thank you to those who leave nice messages in my inbox, and reblog, and leave comments. thank you to my dearest sweet mutuals. thank you to those who followed me here from lisired and didn’t unfollow me when you realized i’m a little bit insane. thank you to those that read my fics over and over and never get bored! let’s heal together everyone. but let’s also be depraved and Scare The Hoes. and if you read all of this, i love you and i hope you get everything you ever wanted in life.

- with all of the love in the world, revehae!

[chronic-escapixt]

Human Sacrifice

prisonworld!Kai x f!reader

content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, Dark fiction, NONCON, kidnap, rough sex, p in v, knife kink, bondage, oral (m receiving), forced orgasm, assault, blood, biting, choking, explicit language, corruption kink

word count: 2.8k

summary: you wake up alone in the middle of nowhere but unfortunately for you, you're not completely alone.

There’s no telling how long I’ve been out here, trekking the same route through this wheat field, my disoriented state worsened by the sun beating down on my body for hours on end. Calls for help fall on deaf ears, feeling so hopeless that I continue on in silence. There’s no one around for miles or at least that’s the fear that grips me into a panic as I dart in the opposite direction thinking that will make a difference.

I’m lost and I don’t even know how I ended up here. One moment, I’m loading my car with my bags to head home for the fall break and the next thing I know, I’m lying in a pile of wheat. In fact, I don’t even remember actually getting on the road. It’s all a tangled mess in my memory that I can’t even begin to sort out until I find some civilization. 

The field eventually opens up and I spot a white farmhouse in the distance. Hoping there’s people inside with a phone so I can call for help. I’m coming up the driveway when I hear the sound of quick footsteps on the loose gravel. I turn in the direction of the noise and scan the area, but there’s nothing there. 

“Hello!” I call out.

There it goes again. I spin around in a hurry. This is weird, and I’m suddenly regretting coming here at all. 

There’s a hard thump at the back of my head and I fall onto the gravel, quickly losing consciousness as a pair of black combat boots fill my line of vision.

I come to with a groan, the pain radiating from the lump at the back of my head to the gash at my temple from the fall. Trying to move my arms proves impossible when there's a thick rope wound around my wrists, securing me up to the wall by a hook above my head.

“Finally! For a minute there, I thought I’d hit you too hard and knocked all the marbles out of your head.” A male’s sardonic voice breaks the silence from the corner of the room, startling me before I strain my eyes. My kidnapper, shrouded in darkness, makes a noise like a creaky chair and stands before stepping into the light.

“Where are my manners? I’m Kai.” My face contorts in confusion. The way he changes his tone to imitate politeness is uncanny. It’s truly unsettling me the way he thinks manners could restore any sense of normalcy after beating me over the head and tying me up. 

He takes another step forward and a scream shreds my throat. 

“HELP!”

“Let me stop you right there. There’s no one else here.. just you and me,” he puts it cut and dry.

I shudder at the thought. 

“No one is coming to save you.. Quite honestly, you don’t have a friend in the world.. Or at least not in this one..” he gives a taunting chuckle. 

“Pleassee…” I whimper but he doesn’t seem at all moved. He purses his lips and rolls his eyes at me. 

“Don’t beg. Believe it or not, I don’t even want to hurt you,” he saunters toward me as I brace myself, flush to the stone wall. He reaches out and snatches my hair in a fist, so hard my neck could snap, forcing me to look up into his eyes, “but I will end your life if you don’t tell me everything I want to know.” 

I feel the unmistakable chill of a knife at the base of my throat and hold still except for the instinctual urge to swallow thickly. 

“Do you understand me?”

I nod.

“Use your words,” he commands. 

“Yes,” I pipe up.

“Good girl.” He wets his lips, “Why did they send you here?”

My response bursts out as nervous babbling, “whatdoyoumeanIdon’tevenknowwhatyourtalkingabout I-” 

The blade silences me to a squeak as he presses it into my neck threateningly.

“Do you know anything?” He groans in a dry tone. 

“M-my name is Y/N! I work at the university library.. My parents own a farm upstate.. I-I don’t know why I’m here.. Honestly..” I blubber.

He lets out a heavy sigh and tucks his knife away into his back pocket.

“If it’s money you want I can-”

“Shut up.” He studies my face for a brief moment, raising his hands. I flinch, thinking he'll strike me, but they just hover there before he places them on my cheeks. I jump when he lets out a loud laugh, turning away from me. 

“You’re useless! You don’t even have any magic!” 

“..magic?” 

“Yes, magic! How else do you think you ended up in my prisonworld?” He scoffs at me as if I'm the crazy one while he’s muttering to himself like a madman. I start fidgeting with my ropes again, desperate to get away from him. 

He goes eerily silent and slowly returns to me. My body sinks into the wall as he closes the distance between us.

“Ooh, I get it.. dear old dad is trying to butter me up before they release me.. apparently the wonder twins fell through and they’re gonna’ give me a shot at the merge afterall,” he chuckles, running the back of his hand down my cheek, cold rings chilling me to the bone.

“I don’t understand..”

“It’s been nearly two decades since I’ve enjoyed anything other than my right hand.. being trapped here alone and all.. and while I still plan on raining down a fiery vengeance on my coven, I'm not opposed to accepting their gifts in the meantime.. especially when they’re as pretty as you.”

“No- NO! I’m not-” I’m squirming hard, his arms come down at either side of my head, caging me in.

“hush-shh-shh, I’m not gonna hurt you.. just let me look at you..” I attempt to steady my breathing. 

He studies me, looking me up and down, “your tits are on the smaller side but I bet they’re pretty too..”

He gave my breast a tight squeeze and I yelp. I want to beg, but it’s no use. His hands are already trailing up my thighs without a word as I silently curse whoever brought me here for putting me in this mini skirt. Come to think of it, I’m not wearing my bra either. It seems I was giftwrapped especially for this horny sociopath. 

He wrenches me apart and forces each thigh across his hips as I writhe in his grasp. 

“No.. none of that. I want to enjoy this..” 

I scream but he captures the sound with his mouth and I'm overwhelmed by the heady flavor of spicy mint. His tongue invades every corner of  my mouth, stroking my own with vigor. He's starved and trying to consume me all at once.

I tremble as he raises the knife and brings it to my chest. The blade shreds through the fabric of my shirt, exposing my breasts in one foul swoop. My perked nipples seem to meet his approval when he mumbles, “definitely pretty.” 

He tweeks one with the pads of his fingers while fully kneading my other breast to his evil little heart’s content.

“.. fuckkkk..” I exhale

He grins, “like that, huh?” 

“NO!” I shout, trying to kick my legs free as hard as I can. He pins me flush with his hips, my tailbone colliding with the rough wall. I can feel his stiffen, the hot shape digging into me. 

He recaptures my lips, his hands growing rougher with my tender breasts. 

It hurts but in a way I can’t stop myself from enjoying. His cruel touch makes my deepest parts quiver.

I want so badly to squeeze my legs closed, hide it from his wandering hands that are already locked onto their next target, his palm finding the wet patch in my panties, his fingers prodding at my leaking hole through the cloth. 

He pushes the fabric aside as he couldn’t be bothered to pull them off of me completely. The direct contact with my puffed pearl sends corresponding pulses up to the pit of my stomach as I whine and squeeze my eyes shut.

He pauses. “no.. hey,  look at me..” 

I pop my eyes open when I feel his hand rub my juices across my face and lips, forcing me to confront how shamefully wet he’s making me, before sliding back into place between my thighs.

A finger slips inside, prodding my tender walls with careful consideration before retreating from me.

“You’re so tight I might break you.”

He proceeds to unbuckle his pants, dropping his cargos and briefs. His cock jumps with its own pulse. The length was nothing short of intimidating, a girth that could rival my forearm and a bulbous mushroom tip that made my insides grind in anticipation. There’s no way that’s fitting inside me.

I protest by squirming again, but he grabs my face, his fingers digging into my cheekbones, 

“Behave yourself and this will be fun for the both of us.”

I shake my head. He’ll rip me half and judging by his behavior thus far, he’s not gonna be gentle about it. 

“Stop..stop it.. I know it’s big.. I’ll make it fit.. okay? Come on.. you’re plenty wet. You’re probably one of those perverted girls that gets off to this stuff anyway.. aren't you?”

“Go to hell,” I snarl.

He tightens his hold until my lips squish closed, “mark my words, I’m gonna make you come on my cock.” 

He gets to work, stroking my clitoris. 

I chew my lips till I taste blood but my moans escape from me anyway. My body seems to completely betray me and arch into his touch. I can hear his hum of approval as he feels my body submit to him. He slides two digits inside, beginning to pump into my squishy walls as I rut my hips to his movements, just mindlessly chasing the high from whatever he gives me.

“Good girl..” He growls in my ear. His hand strokes the length of his member until his precum pearls at the flushed tip.

He butterflies me open against the wall and pushes into me all at once, grunting in my ear as I cry out garbled nonsense. my nails digging into my palm, the only movement I’m allowed

His cock reaches depths I didn’t think were possible, far beyond the damage I could do with my largest toys on my nightstand back home. I struggle to accommodate him the way he forces my body to. Though I’m fully aroused, he leaves an aching burn every inch of the way. 

He’s all I can sense, completely overriding my nervous system. I don’t even notice my tears until he licks them away with his tongue. 

“See, I told you I could- hey.. don’t cry..” he whispers as if trying to console me, as if I can’t feel his sadistic smile on my skin.

Every thrust, erratic yet precise. He knocks the air from me, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. My core responds by wetting his path so that each stroke leaves a sloppy squelching echo between our bodies. 

Despite my best efforts, it seems he’s going to make good on his promise. The way the coil in my gut draws dangerously tighter with each brush of his generous cock. The ridges along him catch at my stretched walls making me clamp down for the sensation. 

He feels it too, I know it by the way his hand balls into a tight fist at my side. 

My moans go shrill when he leans down to bite my collar bone. 

The combination of pleasure, pain, and fear turn me nuclear. I just combust into waves of ecstasy, my walls milking him until he twitches and creams my insides with thick coats of his spend. 

He pulls away from my neck, and I catch a glimpse of his face. Soft parted lips, hooded gray eyes and a deep red flush that colors his pale skin all the way down his neck. He’s the embodiment of evil, I’m sure of it, but in this moment I can only process his gorgeously fucked-out face.

“Best gift ever..” he sighs and chuckles to himself. Then his hand reaches up and wraps around my throat, ending the moment as soon as it started. I squirm and kick as panic sets in. 

It can’t end like this.

I gasp as he constricts my airway, cooing in my ear in his soothing voice. “Shhh.. it's okay.. just go back to sleep..”

My struggles weaken until tiny black spots fill my vision and I’m out again.

I wake up in a bed. The light of early morning streaming in through the curtains. I must’ve slept through the rest of the afternoon and night, yet my body is still riddled with exhaustion. Oddly though, after all I’ve been through, I feel clean and when I pull the covers off I see I was changed into a black dress, more like lingerie with its lacy fabric so sheer and tight I can practically see my kidneys. There’s a mirror over on the vanity and I rise on shaky legs and take a seat in front of it. 

I see a fresh bandage on my forehead. My lips are still red and puffy and my eyes are bloodshot from crying. Between my neck and shoulder in a purple bruise in the shape of a bite. I run my fingers along the divots from his teeth and wince.

“Someone must be awake from their beauty rest.” I jump at the sound of his approaching voice from down the hall.

I have to get out of here. I get up and dash out of the room, running as fast yet as quiet as I can in the opposite direction. Each step causes me pain as I hold my abdomen but I beeline down the stairs to the front door. 

I think I made it home free until I turn the knob and it doesn’t budge. I try repeatedly, but the fucker rigged it so I can’t get out. I’m locked in from the outside. My hands are shaking now, but as I back away, I catch the gleam of a set of keys in the corner of my eye. 

Hope fills my chest, but before I can reach them, I’m swept up by a pair of strong arms and lifted off the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going, hm?” he husks. 

“Just let me go! I don’t know why I’m here or who sent me. I just want to go home!” I scream.

He chuckles darkly and holds me so tight it's hard to breathe. 

“I already told you why you’re here, and if you want to make it back home in one piece, I suggest you get with the program, baby.” 

He hurls me onto the floor and I roll until my ribs knock in the pointed corner of the wall. The pain makes me cry out. 

He shakes his head and tsks, “pathetic.” His taunting footsteps approach as I cower in the corner, holding my hand out as silent plea.

He reaches down and grabs the back of my neck, holding me in place.

“Aww, haven't had my new toy for a whole 24 hours and I already broke her..”

“I’m not broken,” I bite out. I mean that. I refuse to let him break me.

“Oh?” he sneers at my indignation, “then prove it.” 

He’s unzipping himself with the other hand, shoving his cock in my face. 

“Show me my pretty new toy still works.”

I stare down the veiny monster. Too big from my singular hand to wrap around, but I reach out anyway until he stops me. 

“Mouth only. Come on.. show me the slut who humped my hand in the basement. The one that gets off to being used like a fleshlight.”

Just like before, I submit. Only because I had too, of course - or at least that’s what I tell myself.

I open my mouth, tilting my head back.

He forces himself in, halfway deep until he’s hitting my gag reflex.

“Relax your throat and breath through your nose.. jus’ like that.. atta’ girl.”

I reach up to stabilize my weak body against his thighs as he guides me by the back of my head up and down his shaft until my jaw grows sore and wet and tears run down my cheeks.

I feel him twitch at the back of my throat and then a sticky warmth envelops my tongue. He looks down and mouths for me to swallow it and I obey.

When he releases me, I crumble against the wall like a used rag doll. 

He adjusts himself back into his pants then hauls me up by my arms, my body too weak to do anything but let him.

“Come on. Let’s get some actual food in your stomach before your body gives out on me.”

Part 2? (comment or reblog to join taglist)

[hookhausenschips]

Between The Lines {LN4}

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Summary: Y/N, a 23-year-old woman from the Bahamas, reunites with her brother and his racing friends, including Lando Norris, who has always harbored feelings for her despite their complicated past. As they navigate the tension, secrecy, and the allure of forbidden love, Y/N and Lando must decide whether to confront their emotions or continue living between the lines of what could be.

WC: 8k (she’s a long one)

Requested? Yes/No

Join My Taglist

Warnings: angst, toxic relationship, jealousy, sexual tension, strong language, allusions of smut

you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Y/N’s POV

The sun was setting as I stepped out of the airport and into the warm embrace of the Portuguese breeze. It carried with it the scent of the ocean, the kind that instantly reminded me of home—the Bahamas. As much as I loved my life in California, there was something about being by the water that grounded me, like I was reconnecting with a part of myself I’d left behind. My curls danced in the wind as I walked towards the taxi stand, my suitcase rolling along behind me.

The drive to our family’s vacation home was a familiar one. Even though it had been years since I’d last been here, I knew every twist and turn of the road by heart. The white-washed walls of the house came into view, nestled against the cliffs that overlooked the Atlantic. It was a place full of memories, of laughter and late-night conversations, of sun-soaked days and quiet moments under the stars. But as much as I loved this place, there was a heaviness in my chest that I couldn’t quite shake.

I had come here to prepare the house for my friends, to create a space where we could all unwind and enjoy each other’s company. But the moment I stepped inside, I knew this trip wasn’t going to be just about catching up with old friends. This was about revisiting the past—whether I was ready for it or not.

I ran my fingers over the cool marble countertop in the kitchen, taking in the familiar sights and smells of the house. Everything looked just as it did when I was last here, though a bit more worn with time. The white curtains fluttered in the breeze, and the scent of fresh lemons from the trees outside wafted through the open windows.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” I murmured to myself, smiling at the nostalgia that wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

But as much as I wanted to lose myself in the peacefulness of the house, I couldn’t help but think about what was coming. My brother, Keylon, had mentioned he’d be stopping by with some of his friends before heading back to the UK. I hadn’t seen him in years, not since I had left to pursue my career and school. And with him, Lando Norris and Max Fewtrell would be here too. I couldn’t help the way my heart skipped a beat at the thought of Lando. 

Lando and I had always shared a unique connection, one that lingered in the background of our interactions. When I visited Keylon in the UK, Lando was always there, and I couldn’t ignore the way he looked at me—like I was something more than just his best friend’s little sister. His crush on me was obvious, but we never acted on it. Timing, distance, and life had always gotten in the way. And then years passed without a word.

Now, we were about to be in the same place again. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of anticipation and nerves. I wondered if he had changed, if he still felt the same way. Or if we’d simply drifted too far apart.

As I unpacked my suitcase and started setting up the house for my friends, I let my thoughts drift back to those times in the UK. The nights when Lando and I would sit on the porch, talking about everything and nothing, with his quiet admiration always lingering just beneath the surface. I wondered what it would be like to see him again after all these years.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway snapped me out of my thoughts. My heart rate quickened as I walked to the front door, anticipation bubbling up inside me. I opened the door just as Keylon stepped out of the car, his familiar grin lighting up his face.

"Y/N!" he called out, his voice filled with excitement as he rushed over to give me a bear hug. "It's been too long, sis!"

I laughed as I hugged him back, the years melting away in that moment. "It really has, Key. You haven't changed a bit."

"Neither have you," he replied, pulling back to look at me. "Still the same little sister I remember, just as stubborn and beautiful as ever."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Flattery will get you nowhere. But thanks, I guess."

Before I could say more, my eyes drifted over Keylon’s shoulder, landing on the figure emerging from the other side of the car. And there he was—Lando Norris. My breath caught in my throat for a second. He looked different, more mature, more confident. But his eyes, those bright blue eyes that had always seemed to see right through me, were the same.

"Y/N," Lando greeted me, his voice deeper than I remembered, but still carrying that same warmth.

"Lando," I replied, trying to keep my tone casual even though my heart was pounding in my chest. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, it has been," he said, and for a moment, something passed between us—an unspoken acknowledgment of the years that had separated us and the connection that still lingered.

Max appeared next, a broad grin on his face as he gave me a quick hug. "Y/N, it’s good to see you! This place is amazing as always."

I smiled at Max, grateful for his easygoing nature that helped break the tension. "It’s good to see you too, Max. Glad you like it."

As we all stood there, the air around us was thick with nostalgia and something more—something electric that neither Lando nor I seemed ready to confront just yet.

"Come on, let’s get inside," Keylon said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "I’m starving, and I’m sure you’ve got some of that famous Bahamian food waiting for us."

I chuckled, grateful for the distraction. "Of course, Key. I wouldn’t let you starve on my watch."

But as we headed inside, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip was going to be more complicated than I’d anticipated. The past had a way of creeping back in when you least expected it, and with Lando here, I had a feeling it was going to hit me full force.

I spent the next hour trying to focus on the tasks at hand—unpacking, arranging towels, making sure the kitchen was stocked. But my mind kept drifting back to the earlier reunion with Keylon and Lando. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, and I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something had shifted. 

As I fluffed the last pillow on the couch, I heard the front door open, followed by the sound of familiar laughter. Keylon’s deep voice echoed through the hallway as he called out, “Y/N! We’re here!”

I took a deep breath and turned, just in time to see him bounding into the living room with Lando and Max in tow. They brought with them the energy of old times, and suddenly, it felt like we were back in those carefree days when we were all just a bunch of kids with no real worries. But now, there was an undercurrent of tension, one that I wasn’t sure how to navigate.

“Hey, sis!” Keylon grinned, his arms full of grocery bags. “Figured we’d help stock up on some essentials.”

I smiled, grateful for the gesture. “Thanks, Key. You know me too well.”

Lando stepped forward, offering a small smile that made my heart do that stupid flip again. “We picked up some snacks too. Figured we’d be needing them.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep things light. “Snacks, huh? You’re still obsessed with those terrible gummy worms, aren’t you?”

His smile widened, a flash of the boy I remembered. “What can I say? Some things never change.”

Max chimed in, holding up a bottle of wine. “And I got this. Because, you know, we’re adults now, and adults drink wine.”

I laughed, grateful for Max’s easy humor. “Classy, Max. I’ll make sure to break out the good glasses for that.”

As they settled in, I found myself watching Lando out of the corner of my eye. He seemed more at ease now, joking with Keylon and Max as they unpacked the groceries. But every so often, I’d catch him glancing in my direction, his gaze lingering just a moment too long before he looked away.

“So,” Keylon said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over us. “We’ve got the whole crew coming in tomorrow. You ready for the madness, Y/N?”

I chuckled, though the idea of a full house made me a little nervous. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Who all is coming, again?”

As the conversation flowed, Keylon rattled off the list of names of people who would be arriving tomorrow. “Keegan, Ed, Tom, and Martin Garrix,” he said, ticking them off on his fingers. “Plus, Max’s girlfriend, Pietra, and Lando’s PR girlfriend, Magui.”

Lando, who had been quietly listening, suddenly nudged Keylon with his elbow, a sharp yet playful jab. "Keylon, seriously?" he muttered, giving him a pointed look.

Keylon blinked, looking confused for a moment before realization dawned. “What? It’s true, isn’t it?” he responded with a mischievous grin. “I mean, that’s pretty much what she is, right?”

Lando sighed, shaking his head, though there was a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You could’ve just said girlfriend, you know,” he mumbled under his breath.

I watched the exchange with amusement, unable to resist a chuckle. The playful dynamic between the two of them was something I’d always loved. Despite the years and the fame that had come between them, some things hadn’t changed.

“Don’t worry, Lando,�� I teased, trying to ease the tension. “I’m sure she’s more than just your PR girlfriend.”

Lando shot me a grateful look, but I noticed the way his shoulders seemed to relax just a bit. “Thanks, Y/N,” he said, his tone lighter now. “But Keylon’s always been terrible with labels.”

Keylon rolled his eyes dramatically. “You know I’m just messing with you, man. But seriously, she’ll be here tomorrow, so you’d better be ready to play the perfect boyfriend.”

Lando let out a low groan, but there was a spark of humor in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be ready.” But as he glanced at me, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his reluctance than just the teasing.

The mention of Magui’s name sent a tiny jolt through me, but I kept my expression neutral. “Right. Sounds like a full house.”

Max shot me a teasing grin. “Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll keep the chaos to a minimum.”

“Yeah, right,” I replied with a smirk. “I know better than to trust you guys when it comes to that.”

As we settled into the evening, the house began to fill with the sounds of laughter and the familiar banter between old friends. Keylon and Max were quick to launch into stories about their racing adventures, their voices overlapping as they competed to see who could tell the wildest tale.

I found myself drifting toward the kitchen, needing a moment to breathe. The sight of Lando laughing with my brother warmed my heart, but it also stirred something deeper, something I wasn’t quite ready to face. I busied myself with preparing a quick snack, chopping vegetables and arranging them on a plate, trying to focus on the mundane task.

But I wasn’t alone for long. The sound of footsteps behind me made me pause, and I turned to find Lando leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched me.

“Need some help?” he offered, his voice softer now that we were alone.

I smiled, though my heart was racing. “Sure. You can chop the tomatoes.”

He moved to the counter beside me, and for a few moments, we worked in companionable silence. The tension between us hadn’t disappeared, but it felt less heavy now, more like a comfortable weight that we were both learning to carry.

“So,” he said after a while, his tone casual. “How’s life been treating you?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my voice light. “Busy. Work is… intense, but I love it.”

“Firefighter and EMS, right?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he glanced at me. “That’s… that’s incredible, Y/N. Seriously.”

His genuine admiration made me smile. “Thanks, Lando. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I can’t imagine doing something like that. But I’m glad you found something you’re passionate about.”

“What about you?” I asked, turning the conversation back to him. “How’s everything with the racing world?”

He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s… good. Busy, as always. But sometimes I miss the simpler times, you know?”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable. “Yeah, I get that. Life has a way of getting complicated, doesn’t it?”

He met my gaze, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. “It does. But sometimes, it’s nice to remember the good things, too.”

The unspoken words hung between us, and I felt my breath catch. There was so much we weren’t saying, so much that needed to be said. But before I could find the courage to speak, Keylon’s voice echoed from the living room.

“Y/N, Lando! Get in here! We’re about to start the movie!”

I blinked, the moment broken, and forced a smile. “Guess that’s our cue.”

Lando gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on mine for just a second longer before he turned away. We headed back into the living room, where the others were already sprawled across the couches, the TV flickering as Keylon scrolled through the movie options.

As I settled into my seat, I couldn’t help but glance at Lando, who sat across the room. Our eyes met briefly, and for the first time in years, I wondered what it would be like to let go of the past and embrace whatever was happening between us. But that was a thought for another time. For now, I would enjoy the reunion, the laughter, and the memories, even as the tension simmered beneath the surface.

The following days were a blur of laughter, music, and memories. The house, once quiet, now buzzed with the energy of everyone arriving. Keegan, Ed, and Tom showed up first, quickly turning the living room into a chaotic mess of luggage and snacks. Martin Garrix arrived soon after, bringing with him a playlist of tunes that kept the party vibe alive. Pietra, Max’s girlfriend, fit right in, her infectious smile and friendly nature making her an instant hit with everyone.

And then there was Magui.

She arrived late in the evening, her presence immediately commanding attention. Tall, stunning, and perfectly put together, she walked into the house like she owned it, greeting everyone with a dazzling smile. But when her gaze landed on me, I felt a subtle shift in the air. The warmth she had shown the others cooled slightly, and her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she said, “You must be Y/N. Lando’s told me so much about you.”

I forced a smile, sensing the underlying tension. “Nice to meet you, Magui. Welcome to our home.”

She nodded, her expression polite but distant, before turning her attention back to Lando, who had come to greet her. I watched as he wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. But even then, his eyes seemed to flicker toward me, just for a second, as if checking my reaction.

It didn’t take long for Magui to make her presence felt. Throughout the evening, she stayed close to Lando, always positioning herself beside him, touching his arm, his shoulder, making it clear to everyone that he was hers. And Lando, for his part, played the role of the attentive boyfriend, though I couldn’t help but notice the tension in his posture, the way his smiles seemed just a bit forced.

The days were a whirlwind of activities—exploring the nearby town, lounging on the beach, late-night barbecues, and impromptu dance sessions in the living room. There was no shortage of fun, but underneath it all, I could feel the undercurrents of unspoken emotions.

Lando, in particular, seemed to struggle. Whenever Martin Garrix or Keegan would sidle up next to me, their flirtatious banter turning up a notch, I noticed the way Lando’s jaw would clench. His eyes would follow us, and though he never said anything, his quiet, simmering jealousy was palpable. 

One evening, after a long day at the beach, we all gathered around the outdoor fire pit, roasting marshmallows and sipping on cocktails. Keegan, ever the charmer, slid onto the bench beside me, his arm casually draping over the backrest.

“So, Y/N,” Keegan began, his voice playful as he leaned in a little closer. “Tell me, how is it that a beautiful woman like you is still single? Or are you just hiding your boyfriend somewhere?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No boyfriend, Keegan. Just focused on work, I guess.”

“Ah, work. Always getting in the way of fun,” he replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling in the firelight. “Maybe we can change that while you’re here.”

Before I could respond, I noticed Lando stiffen across the fire pit, his gaze fixed on Keegan’s arm resting behind me. Magui, sitting beside him, seemed oblivious to the tension, chatting away with Pietra about some event they’d attended recently.

Martin, who was seated on my other side, chimed in with a chuckle. “Careful, Keegan. Y/N’s got a lot of admirers. You might have some competition.”

Lando’s expression darkened just slightly, and I caught the flicker of frustration in his eyes. He leaned forward, interrupting the conversation. “Y/N’s too smart to fall for your cheesy lines, Keegan.”

Keegan smirked, unfazed. “Maybe, but there’s no harm in trying, right?”

I rolled my eyes playfully, trying to defuse the situation. “Okay, boys, calm down. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

But despite my efforts, the tension lingered, and I couldn’t ignore the way Lando’s gaze kept drifting toward me, a mixture of jealousy and something deeper in his eyes.

As the evening wore on, Magui’s subtle hostility toward me became more apparent. Every time I tried to engage with Lando, she would swoop in, steering the conversation back to herself or pulling him away with some excuse. It was clear that she wasn’t comfortable with my presence, and I couldn’t blame her. After all, the history between Lando and me was something she could sense, even if she didn’t know the full story.

One night, after another long day of exploring and socializing, I found myself alone in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. I was lost in thought when I heard footsteps behind me. Turning around, I saw Magui standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey,” I greeted her, trying to keep my tone neutral. “Need something?”

She gave me a tight smile. “No, just wanted to talk. You and Lando… you go way back, huh?”

I nodded, sensing where this was going. “Yeah, we’ve known each other for a long time. Through my brother.”

Magui’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I figured as much. He talks about you sometimes. Fondly, of course.”

I set down the dish I was holding, meeting her gaze directly. “Look, Magui, I’m not trying to cause any problems. I’m just here to spend time with my brother and our friends.”

She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable. “I’m not worried, Y/N. Lando and I have something real. But I just wanted to make sure we’re clear on that.”

I smiled, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Crystal clear.”

She nodded, her smile returning as if the conversation had never happened. “Great. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As she left the kitchen, I let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. It was clear that whatever was happening between Lando and me wasn’t going unnoticed. And if I wasn’t careful, things could get messy. Very messy.

The tension between Lando and Magui only grew over the next few days. I noticed the little things—how they’d bicker over small details, how Magui would criticize Lando’s behavior around me, and how Lando’s patience seemed to be wearing thin. It was like watching a slow-burning fuse, and I knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded.

It was late, well past midnight, and the house had finally quieted down. After another long day of adventures and late-night antics, everyone had drifted off to bed, leaving the house in peaceful silence. But I couldn’t sleep. My mind was too restless, swirling with everything that had happened over the past few days—the tension with Magui, Lando’s simmering jealousy, the unspoken feelings between us that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

I slipped out of my room and made my way to the pool, hoping the cool night air would help clear my head. The water shimmered under the starlight, and the gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance created a soothing background noise. I sat down at the edge of the pool, dipping my feet into the water, and stared up at the stars, letting my thoughts drift.

It wasn’t long before I heard the soft sound of footsteps behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. I could feel his presence even before he spoke.

“Can’t sleep either?” Lando’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as he came to stand beside me.

I glanced up at him and shook my head. “No. Just… too much on my mind, I guess.”

He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes as he took a seat beside me, dipping his feet into the pool as well. We sat in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the gentle ripples of the water and the distant waves.

“There’s a lot going on, huh?” he finally said, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid of saying too much.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly, my eyes still fixed on the stars. “More than I expected.”

Lando let out a slow breath, his gaze focused on the water in front of him. “I’m sorry about Magui,” he said after a pause. “She can be… intense. I know she hasn’t exactly been welcoming.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, though the tension between us was impossible to ignore. “I get it. I’m… I’m the past, and she’s your present. It makes sense that she’s protective.”

Lando looked at me then, his eyes searching mine. “Y/N, it’s not that simple.”

I nodded, still staring at the stars, trying to keep my emotions in check. I turned to face him, finally allowing myself to ask the question that had been weighing on me for days. "Lando, this... this thing between us, it's complicated. You’re with Magui, and she’s—"

Lando cut me off with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if he was about to say something that had been weighing on him for a while. “Y/N, there’s something you should know about Magui and me. Our relationship... it’s not what it seems.”

I turned to look at him, confusion knitting my brows. "What do you mean? You’re together. She’s your girlfriend."

Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from mine as if he wasn’t sure how to explain. “Magui and I… it’s not real. I mean, we’re together for the cameras, for the press. It’s a PR relationship—a publicity stunt to boost both of our images.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Wait, what? Keylon wasn’t actually joking? So, you’re not actually...?”

He shook his head, looking almost relieved to finally be telling someone the truth. “No. We’re not in love, we’re not really dating. It’s all for show. The media eats it up, and it helps both of our careers. But behind the scenes... there’s nothing there.”

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. “So, all this time... you’ve been pretending?”

Lando nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah. It was easier that way. No complications, no distractions. Just focusing on racing and keeping up appearances. But seeing you again… it’s made me realize that I can’t keep pretending. Not anymore.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, the weight of his confession sinking in. “Lando, that’s... a lot to take in.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his gaze locked on mine. “And I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner, but... it’s complicated. Everything’s complicated.”

My mind raced as I tried to make sense of it all. Part of me felt relieved—relieved that Magui wasn’t the deep, meaningful relationship I’d feared. But another part of me felt conflicted, knowing that even if their relationship wasn’t real, it still carried the weight of the public eye, of the world watching every move he made.

“You’re not worried about what happens if people find out?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lando shrugged, a hint of resignation in his expression. “It’s crossed my mind, to be happy when I'm not. Pretending that what I really want isn't standing right in front of me."

His words hung in the air, heavy with truth and vulnerability. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was struggling between what was expected of him and what he truly felt. My heart ached for him, knowing how difficult it must be to live under that kind of pressure, to put on a show for the world while burying his own feelings.

I swallowed hard, the air between us thick with tension. “And Magui?”

Lando ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. “She’s… she’s great. Really. But…” He trailed off, his eyes searching mine as if looking for answers.

“But what, Lando?” I pressed gently, needing to know where we stood. “What do you want?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions that I couldn’t quite decipher. Then, without warning, he reached out and took my hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me.

“I don’t know if this is right,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. About what could have been… and what might still be.”

My heart pounded in my chest as I looked into his eyes, torn between what I knew was right and what my heart was screaming at me to do. I could feel the pull between us, the undeniable chemistry that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface.

“Lando…” I began, but he cut me off, his voice urgent.

“Y/N, I’ve tried to move on. I’ve tried to be with someone else, to build something new. But every time I’m with her, I think of you. I think of what we had… what we could have. And I don’t know if I can keep pretending anymore.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with emotion, and I felt my resolve weakening. This was dangerous, and we both knew it. But in that moment, with the stars shining above us and the world quiet around us, it felt like the only thing that mattered was the two of us.

Without thinking, I leaned in, closing the distance between us. The moment our lips met, it was like a spark ignited, a fire that had been smoldering for years finally bursting into flames. The kiss was desperate, filled with all the pent-up emotion and longing that we’d been holding back.

Lando’s hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer as the kiss deepened. My fingers tangled in his hair, and for a moment, it was like nothing else in the world existed but the two of us. The cool night air, the distant waves, the stars above—they all faded away, leaving only the heat between us.

We broke apart for a breath, our foreheads resting against each other as we tried to catch our breath. “This is crazy,” I whispered, though I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.

“Maybe,” Lando murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “But it feels right.”

The tension, the desire, the years of unresolved feelings—it all came crashing down on us, and suddenly, the consequences didn’t matter. Not the fact that he had a girlfriend sleeping inside, not the fact that this could ruin everything. All that mattered was that we were here, together, and we couldn’t stop ourselves.

Before I knew it, we were kissing again, more urgently this time, our hands roaming as we lost ourselves in the moment. The world fell away, and all that was left was us—the feel of his lips on mine, the way his touch sent shivers down my spine, the undeniable connection that had always been there.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and overwhelmed, reality came crashing back. We were still by the pool, still in the middle of a situation that could have serious consequences. I could see the regret flickering in Lando’s eyes, but also something else—something that told me he wasn’t ready to let this go.

“Y/N…” he began, but I shook my head, placing a finger to his lips.

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Not tonight.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of what had just happened settling over us. There were so many things left unsaid, so many questions that still needed answers. But for now, we both knew that this wasn’t the time to face them. There would be consequences to deal with, choices to make, but they would have to wait until morning.

For now, we just sat there by the pool, the night wrapping around us like a blanket, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The passion of the moment had passed, but the connection between us remained, stronger than ever. And as we sat there in the quiet, I couldn’t help but wonder—what would come next?

The next morning, everything felt heavier. The sunlight streaming through the windows seemed too bright, almost accusatory, as if it knew what had happened the night before. My stomach churned with unease as I went about my morning routine, replaying everything over and over in my mind. What had I done? What had we done?

The house was lively, filled with the usual banter and laughter, but I felt disconnected, like an outsider observing from a distance. At breakfast, I sat quietly, picking at my food while the others chattered away. Magui was seated next to Lando, her hand casually resting on his arm as she talked to Keegan. The sight made my chest tighten, guilt gnawing at me. I couldn’t look at her without feeling like I had betrayed some unspoken rule, even though I knew the truth about her and Lando’s relationship.

Lando caught my eye from across the table, his expression serious and searching, but I quickly looked away, unable to meet his gaze. I didn’t want to confront the emotions swirling inside me, didn’t want to acknowledge the turmoil we’d unleashed.

After breakfast, I found an excuse to slip away, retreating to the quiet of the beach. The rhythmic crash of the waves provided some solace, but it couldn’t drown out the thoughts racing in my head. I felt torn in so many directions—caught between what I wanted, what I feared, and what I knew was right.

“Y/N.”

His voice, soft yet urgent, made me freeze. I didn’t turn around. I knew who it was, and I knew what he wanted to talk about. But I wasn’t ready.

“Can we talk?” Lando’s footsteps crunched in the sand as he approached, but I stayed where I was, staring out at the horizon as if it held all the answers.

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

“Last night,” he said simply. “We need to figure out what happens next.”

I finally turned to face him, and the look in his eyes—so earnest, so determined—made my heart ache. “Lando, last night... it was a mistake.”

He frowned, stepping closer. “A mistake? You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” I insisted, wrapping my arms around myself defensively. “We got caught up in the moment, but it doesn’t change anything. You’re still Lando Norris—famous, in the spotlight—and I’m... well, I’m just me. This world, your world... it’s not mine.”

His frustration was palpable, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Y/N, stop running away from this. From us. You know last night meant something—it wasn’t just a mistake. Don’t try to brush it off like that.”

“I’m not running,” I lied, taking a step back from him. “I’m being realistic. This... whatever this is between us, it can’t work. It’s too complicated, and I don’t want to be the reason things get messy for you.”

“Things are already messy,” he countered, his voice rising slightly. “But I don’t care, Y/N. I don’t care about the complications or the risks. I care about you.”

His words hit me hard, and for a moment, I almost let myself believe him. But the fear, the doubt, was stronger. “Lando, you have a life—a career, a public image to maintain. I’m just a distraction.”

“You’re not a distraction!” he said fiercely, reaching for my hand, but I pulled away before he could touch me. The hurt in his eyes was clear, but I couldn’t let myself get caught up in it.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I won’t be the one to complicate your life even more.”

“Y/N, don’t push me away,” he pleaded, taking another step toward me. “I’m not letting you go that easily.”

“Maybe you should,” I shot back, my voice cracking with the effort to hold back tears. “Maybe it’s better for both of us if we just... forget about last night.”

“I can’t forget it,” he said quietly, his tone filled with a desperate honesty. “And neither can you.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, all I could hear was the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. He was right. I couldn’t forget. But that didn’t mean I was ready to face the consequences either.

“I need time,” I finally said, my voice trembling. “Time to figure out what this all means.”

Lando looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and frustration, but he nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll give you time. But I’m not giving up on this—on us.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I turned away and walked down the beach, putting distance between us. Lando didn’t follow, but I could feel his gaze on me, filled with all the things left unsaid.

As I walked, the uncertainty gnawed at me, but one thing was clear—I wasn’t ready to give in to whatever was between us. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

For now, all I could do was keep running.

The days that followed were tense, filled with an unspoken tension that lingered in every interaction. Lando kept his distance, respecting my need for space, but I could feel his eyes on me whenever we were in the same room. It was as if he was waiting for the right moment, waiting for me to stop running.

I spent most of my time avoiding everyone, especially Lando. When the group went out, I stayed behind, claiming I needed rest or had work to catch up on. But the truth was, I didn’t know how to face him—or myself—after everything that had happened. I was caught in a web of my own fears, struggling to untangle the threads of what I felt and what I knew was right.

That night, after days of avoiding everyone and drowning in my own thoughts, I decided to join the group. Maybe it was the loneliness finally getting to me, or maybe I just needed a distraction from the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed me. Whatever it was, I found myself standing in front of the mirror, trying to remember what it felt like to let go and just have fun.

I chose a deep emerald-green dress that hugged my curves in all the right places. The satin fabric shimmered under the soft light of my room, falling just above my knees with a thigh-high slit that added an extra edge to the look. The plunging neckline made a statement, and I decided to forgo any jewelry, letting the simplicity of the dress speak for itself.

My hair was styled in soft locs that cascaded down my back and shoulders, the natural texture adding an effortless elegance to the look. I’d taken the time to weave a few gold accents through the locs, catching the light as I moved and adding a subtle sparkle to the overall style. The locs framed my face perfectly, enhancing the smoky eye makeup that gave my gaze a mysterious allure.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I gave myself a nod. I looked good, and for the first time in a while, I felt good too. Tonight, I wasn’t going to let anything—or anyone—bring me down.

When I walked into the living area where everyone was gathered, the conversations died down, and all eyes turned toward me. Keegan was the first to break the silence with a low whistle, his grin wide and mischievous. “Damn, Y/N! You’re killing it tonight.”

Martin quickly followed with his own whistle, nudging Keegan playfully. “She’s been holding out on us, mate. Didn’t know you had it in you, Y/N.”

I laughed, shaking my head at their antics. “You two are ridiculous.”

But it was Lando’s reaction that caught my attention. He stood frozen in place, his eyes locked on me as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was a mix of emotions playing across his face—surprise, admiration, and something deeper that made my heart skip a beat. For a moment, the world around us seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of us, locked in that intense gaze.

Magui, who had been standing next to Lando, didn’t miss the exchange. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced between us, her grip tightening on Lando’s arm. She quickly masked her irritation with a forced smile, but the bitterness in her voice was unmistakable. “Well, isn’t this a surprise? I didn’t think you’d make it out tonight, Y/N. I suppose it’s good you’re finally joining the fun.”

Her words were laced with sarcasm, and the tension between us crackled in the air. I met her gaze, refusing to back down. “Yeah, I figured it was time to stop hiding and enjoy the night.”

She smirked, tilting her head slightly. “Well, let’s hope you can keep up.”

Before I could respond, Lando finally snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat. “You look amazing, Y/N,” he said, his voice a little too soft, a little too sincere, causing Magui’s glare to sharpen.

“Thanks, Lando,” I replied, giving him a small smile before turning my attention back to the group. “So, are we heading out or what?”

The others quickly rallied, eager to start the night, but the tension lingered in the air. As we made our way out of the house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was going to change everything, one way or another. And as Lando’s gaze lingered on me, even as Magui tried to pull him closer, I knew he felt it too.

The club was a blur of flashing lights, pulsing music, and bodies moving to the rhythm. It was loud, chaotic, and exactly what I needed to drown out the noise in my head. I let myself get lost in the atmosphere, dancing with Keegan and Martin, laughing at their jokes, and trying to push away the tension that had followed us from the house.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the weight of Lando’s gaze. Even in the crowded room, I could feel him watching me. Every time I turned around, he was there—across the bar, on the edge of the dance floor, always close but never approaching. It was as if he was waiting for the right moment, waiting for me to let my guard down.

Magui, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as subtle. She stayed glued to Lando’s side, her possessive grip on his arm a clear message to anyone who dared to come too close. She danced with him, whispered in his ear, and made sure everyone knew they were together. But it was all so forced, so obviously a performance, that it only added to the tension between them.

At one point, I caught Magui glaring at me from across the room, her eyes full of thinly veiled contempt. She leaned in to say something to Lando, her voice low but her expression unmistakable. He nodded distractedly, his gaze still flicking over to me every few moments. Whatever she said didn’t seem to have the intended effect, because his attention never wavered.

After a while, I needed a break from the dancing, so I made my way to the bar to grab a drink. As I waited for the bartender, I felt someone approach. I turned, half expecting it to be one of the guys, but instead, it was Lando. His presence was electrifying, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Hey,” he said, his voice barely audible over the music. He leaned in closer so I could hear him. “You okay?”

I nodded, taking a sip of my drink to steady my nerves. “Yeah, just needed a breather.”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “You look amazing tonight, Y/N. I mean, you always do, but tonight...”

“Thanks,” I replied, my voice soft, feeling a flutter in my chest. His compliment was sincere, and it only made everything more complicated. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I try.”

We stood there for a moment, the silence between us charged with unspoken words. It felt like there was so much to say, but neither of us knew where to start.

Before I could think of anything to break the tension, Magui appeared at Lando’s side, her smile tight as she slipped her arm through his. “Lando, babe, let’s go dance. We’ve barely had any time together tonight.”

Her voice was sweet, but the look she shot me was anything but. It was clear she wasn’t thrilled about Lando and me talking, and she was making sure I knew it.

Lando hesitated, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

As they walked away, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of something—jealousy, frustration, regret? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that no matter how hard I tried to distance myself, Lando had a way of pulling me back in. And as I watched him dance with Magui, his movements mechanical and his smile forced, I realized that maybe I wasn’t the only one struggling to figure out what came next.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. I danced with the others, laughed at their jokes, and tried to pretend that everything was fine. But the tension between Lando and me remained, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to explode.

As we left the club and headed back to the house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. Lando and I had unfinished business, and sooner or later, we were going to have to face it—whether we were ready or not.

The drive back to the house was quiet, the energy from the club fading into a tense silence. I stared out the window, watching the lights of the city blur into darkness as we left the crowded streets behind. My mind replayed the events of the night, the fleeting moments with Lando, Magui’s possessive glares, the way I’d felt Lando’s eyes on me even when he was dancing with her.

When we finally arrived back at the house, everyone seemed drained. Keegan and Martin stumbled inside, still laughing about something that happened at the club, while Max led Pietra to their room, the two of them whispering softly to each other. Magui, with her usual sharp tone, excused herself and headed to the bedroom she shared with Lando, giving me one last cutting glance before disappearing up the stairs.

Lando lingered behind, standing awkwardly in the doorway as the others dispersed. His gaze flicked to me, and I could see the struggle in his eyes—the internal battle he was fighting. He wanted to talk, to address everything that had been left unsaid between us, but he was trapped in his own confusion, caught between his obligations and what he truly wanted.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give him that chance. The thought of another conversation filled with half-truths and what-ifs left a bitter taste in my mouth. But a part of me—a part that had been buried for years—ached to hear what he had to say. To know if he felt even a fraction of what I was feeling.

“I’m heading to bed,” I said finally, breaking the silence. My voice came out steadier than I expected, even though my heart was pounding in my chest. “Goodnight, Lando.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Instead, he just nodded, a look of regret flashing across his face as I turned away.

I made my way upstairs, my footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As I reached my room, I paused at the door, my hand hovering over the handle. I could still feel Lando’s presence downstairs, the weight of his indecision pressing down on both of us. For a brief moment, I considered turning around, marching back down those stairs, and demanding answers. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not tonight.

I slipped inside my room, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. The silence was deafening as I kicked off my heels and sank onto the edge of the bed. The night had left me emotionally drained, and all I wanted was to shut my eyes and forget everything. But sleep didn’t come easily.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours—I couldn’t tell. The house was eerily still, and the only sound was the occasional rustle of the wind outside. I was finally starting to drift off when I heard it—a soft knock on my door. My heart lurched, and I held my breath, hoping it was just my imagination playing tricks on me.

But then it came again, louder this time.

I hesitated, my mind racing. Who could it be?

Another knock, more insistent now, followed by a whispered, “Y/N, it’s me.”

Lando.

My pulse quickened, and I found myself frozen in place, unsure of what to do. Part of me wanted to ignore him, to let him stand out there and grapple with whatever he needed to say. But another part of me—the part that had always struggled to keep my distance from him—couldn’t resist.

Slowly, I stood up and made my way to the door. My hand trembled as I reached for the handle, and I hesitated for just a moment longer before finally opening it.

Lando stood there, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. His usual confidence seemed to have abandoned him, leaving behind a rawness that I wasn’t used to seeing. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air thick with everything we hadn’t said.

“Y/N, I can’t keep doing this,” he said finally, his voice low and hoarse. “I can’t keep pretending that I don’t—”

“Lando,” I interrupted, my own voice barely a whisper. “We can’t. It’s too complicated.”

“I know it is,” he replied, stepping closer, his eyes searching mine. “But that doesn’t change how I feel. I’ve tried to push it away, to ignore it, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt the walls I’d built around my heart start to crumble. But I couldn’t let myself fall into this trap again. Not when so much was at stake.

“Lando, you have a girlfriend,” I reminded him, my voice shaking slightly. “And she’s right down the hall.”

He flinched, guilt flickering in his eyes. “It’s not real, Y/N. You know that. It’s just for show, for the cameras. But what I feel for you... that’s real. It always has been.”

His confession hung in the air between us, heavy and dangerous. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. Every instinct screamed at me to shut the door, to end this conversation before it went too far. But instead, I found myself drawn to him, unable to tear my gaze away.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, gently taking my hand in his. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, and for a moment, I allowed myself to revel in the feeling.

“Then let me prove it to you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Just... don’t shut me out, Y/N. Not again.”

I stared at him, torn between the intense connection we shared and the voice of reason that told me this was a terrible idea. The past had taught me how easily things could fall apart, how quickly emotions could become entangled in a mess of hurt and betrayal.

But as I stood there, on the precipice of something that could either destroy us or finally bring us together, I knew one thing for certain—I couldn’t run from this forever.

“Okay,” I whispered, barely able to believe the word had left my lips. “But no more games, Lando. This has to be real.”

His eyes lit up with hope, and he nodded, squeezing my hand. “No more games. I promise.”

And just as I started to let my guard down, just as I began to believe that maybe, just maybe, we could make this work, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. Both of us froze, and my heart dropped as the door at the end of the hall creaked open.

Magui’s voice, sharp and cutting, sliced through the silence. “Lando? What the hell is going on?”

Our eyes met, panic flashing between us. The moment of truth had come, and there was no turning back now.

__________________________________

LN4 Taglist: @cmleitora, @icecoldtires, @ggaslyp1, @really-fucking-tired, @lightdragonrayne, @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @evie-119, @cheyennep3107, @d3kstar

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Snape being gaslit

“He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out —” “HE DIDN’T DISAPPARATE!” Snape roared, now very close at hand. “YOU CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE IN- SIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS — SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — POTTER!” “Severus — be reasonable — Harry has been locked up —” BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. “OUT WITH IT, POTTER!” he bellowed. “WHAT DID YOU DO?” “Professor Snape!” shrieked Madam Pomfrey. “Control yourself!” “See here, Snape, be reasonable,” said Fudge. “This door’s been locked, we just saw —” “THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. “Calm down, man!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!” “YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!” shrieked Snape. “HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —” “That will do, Severus,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?” “Of course not!” said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. “I would have heard them!” “Well, there you have it, Severus,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in troubling them further.” Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. “Fellow seems quite unbalanced,” said Fudge, staring after him. “I’d watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore.” “Oh, he’s not unbalanced,” said Dumbledore quietly. “He’s just suffered a severe disappointment.”

Poor Snape. Book 3 was really bad for him. Dealing with Remus' passive aggression. Having to brew wolfsbane potion for the guy who nearly killed him years ago and said guy not seeming to care too much about said detail. Dealing with Sirius again and having him escape. Then having Dumbles gaslight him - sometimes I just have to shake my head at his old man. What a shady character. Can't believe people call these men friends. Dumbles is not Snape's friend. A friend doesn't get amusement from their friend's uncontrollable rage. Not to mention I don't know how Snape can truly be friends with the man who was his headmaster in school - the age difference is too great for a close friendship IMO. Plus Dumbles contributed to making Snape's school life hell. I literally don't understand how Snape could be friends with him OR Minerva.

If I were a better writer, I would write a fic where Snape tells both Voldy and Dumbles to screw themselves, throws Lily's memory in the trash where it belongs, moves far away from Hogwarts, opens up a successful apothecary and marries and has a small family with a lovely woman who adores him. I just want this poor man to have all the good things in the world and leave Harry's dim witted butt to someone else. There are fics where this happens...but they tend to make Snape gay for some reason :'(. Why is it so hard to have Snape marry a woman??

PS: I kind of like seeing Snape and Draco lose their absolute marbles over Harry. I feel bad for them but it is still amusing to see :')

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 16 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Spencer confronts Daisy over her behaviour and a fight ensues. JJ and Maeve help him to navigate the intricacies of life as a teenage girl.

A/N - Spencer loses his cool with Daisy in this chapter. He is still learning, please bear with him. He’s getting there.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - more use of the term “bitch”, arguing, angry Spencer, angry Daisy, lots of talk of puberty and periods, talk of therapy and antidepressants.

WC - 5.2k

Chapter 16 - My Little Girl

When you were in trouble, that crooked little smile could melt my heart of stone.

Now look at you, I've turned around and you've almost grown.

Sometimes when you're asleep I whisper "I love you" in the moonlight at your door.

As I walk away, I hear you say, "Daddy, love you more”.

Spencer was so angry he couldn’t even speak the entire drive home. He let Lily ride up front because she was too scared to sit next to her sister. She held Taco in her arms, nuzzling her face into his fur. 

When they arrived home he carried his youngest up to bed, read her a story and kissed her goodnight. Taco stayed with her, curled up under her arm. 

When he padded back downstairs he hoped Daisy would be smart enough to have put herself to bed. But he was proven wrong when he found her awkwardly sitting in the living room. 

He didn’t look at her as he continued to the kitchen, wishing more than anything right now that he could have a drink. He grabbed a glass and poured himself some water, leaning up at the counter and staring out into the dark yard. 

He heard her footsteps getting closer and he braced himself against the counter, not wanting to turn around and face his eldest daughter.

“Dad?” Daisy’s voice was low and croaky and held a hint of fear to it. 

His nostrils flared and he sipped the water in the hopes of helping calm himself.

“Don’t.” He replied without turning around. “Just don’t. Go to bed Daisy, we’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Daisy continued regardless. 

Spencer’s back stiffened and he placed the glass down on the counter louder than he’d meant to. 

“Go to bed.” He repeated, not even trying to hide his annoyance from his voice. 

“I don’t want to.” She pouted and he could hear the dejection in her voice.

He exhaled noisily through his nose before he finally turned around and glared at her. She stood on the other side of the kitchen island with her arms wrapped around her body. Her bottom lip quivered and her large blue eyes watered. 

“Daisy, I don't particularly care what you want to do. I am your father and I am telling you to go to bed.” His voice was husky, the anger not very well hidden. 

Daisy’s eyes somehow widened, she’d never heard him like this before. 

“I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “I’m really sorry but she was being a brat!” 

“She is seven years old!” Spencer snapped, raising his voice and slamming his palms on the marbled island. “You are double her age, you should know better. If she’s annoying you, you walk away Daisy. There is no excuse for pushing her or calling her a bit…that word.” 

“Oh you mean that word you call mom? Even Lily’s heard you call her a bitch.” Daisy scoffed, her previous sadness seemingly vanishing. 

“I am an adult, I’m allowed to use that word. And I’d appreciate it if you and your sister would stop eavesdropping when I’m on the phone.” He shook his head in frustration. 

“Mom is a bitch! And so is Lily.” 

“Daisy,” he spat so harshly he saw her back go rigid and her arms fell to her sides. “You will not, I repeat, you will not use that kind of language while you live under my roof. Especially towards your mother and sister.” 

“Jeez dad, it's not even that bad of a word. I know way worse.” She clucked. 

“Daisy, you do not want to test me tonight.” He growled. “Go to bed and wake up with a better attitude. Tomorrow you will apologise to your sister and you are grounded and have no phone privileges for two weeks.” 

“What! No way! You aren’t taking my phone.” 

“Watch me.” He spat, rounding the counter and coming closer to her. 

She whined and tried to move away while he reached inside her jacket pocket and pulled her phone out. 

“That’s not fair.” She huffed, watching him stuff the device in his own pocket. 

“Life isn’t.”

“How am I supposed to text Cameron now?” 

“You aren’t! That’s the point.” He rolled his eyes.

His temples started to throb, an incoming headache. That was just what he needed.

“So I met a boy I like and I can’t talk to him but meanwhile you can date half of goddamn Virginia?” She yelled at the top of her lungs.

“Excuse me?” Spencer’s eyes bulged at his daughter’s words. 

“Oh please, you think we don’t know about you and Cam’s mom?” Daisy scoffed. “Seriously, do you just date anyone now?” 

“Bed. Or I swear to god Daisy…” he didn’t exactly have an end to that sentence so he trailed off, feeling the ache in his head rapidly growing. 

“What? What will you do dad? Send me to live with mom?” She rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest again. 

“Well that’s the best damn idea I’ve heard all night.” He bit back. “Maybe I will.” 

Of course it was just an empty threat, he would never actually send Daisy to live with her mother but he thought maybe it would be enough of a scare to stop her behaving like this. 

“You would not.” She huffed. 

“Maybe she can knock some sense into you. I don’t recognise you right now Daisy. I don’t know who you are becoming. But it’s not my little girl.” He turned his back on her, leaning up against the sink again. 

“You’re right, I’m not your little girl. I’m not your pumpkin anymore dad. I’m fourteen years old, I’m not a little kid like Lily.” She yelled but he refused to rise to it anymore for fear of what he may say. 

“Go to bed, Daisy.” He sighed. 

“No.” She stamped her foot in defiance. 

“You know what, fine.” He turned back around with a shrug. “Do what you want. I’m too exhausted to fight with you.” 

He moved past her into the hall and started up the stairs. Daisy watched him go, feeling downtrodden. 

“Dad, I-”

“Please,” he cut her off, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t push me, kid.” 

Daisy let him go, her eyes watering a little. She’d wanted to get a reaction out of him and that’s certainly what she’d gotten. But she didn’t feel good about it. 

She heard his bedroom door close and she quietly crept upstairs to her own room. She fell to the bed and pulled her knees up to her chin before she started to cry. 

***

The tension in the Reid household the following morning was enough to make anyone want to drink. 

Lily wasn’t talking to Daisy and in return Daisy wouldn’t talk to Lily. Daisy tried to talk to Spencer but Spencer barely replied. 

It was Saturday and they were supposed to be going to a BBQ at Rossi’s but Spencer was in no mood and Daisy was grounded so she wasn’t going anywhere. 

He’d called JJ to let her know and she’d offered to take Lily with them to the BBQ. Thinking it might be easier if the girls spent a little time apart, he agreed. 

Around midday JJ, Will and the boys arrived to pick her up. Will took her hand and helped into the back of the car. Lily beamed brightly as she slid in next to Michael and the two quickly started chatting to one another, whilst Henry tried to ignore them. 

Spencer stepped out onto the porch and closed the front door behind him. 

“I’ve never known you ground the kids.” JJ frowned lightly. 

“I’ve never needed to. She was…I didn’t recognise her JJ. I hate this teenage crap. One minute I’m her best friend and the next she hates me.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how to raise a teenager.” 

“When Daisy was born you knew nothing about looking after a baby.” She reminded him. 

“But I had Maeve.” 

“Fine, but you’ve been basically on your own with them for over a year and you’ve been doing just fine.” 

“Is Henry like this? Or is it just a girl thing?” He ignored her. 

“My answer is not going to make you feel any better.” She shrugged. 

“So it’s a girl thing.” He rolled his eyes. 

“He’s moody sometimes, but I guess on the whole he’s pretty good.” 

“I’m in over my head, Jennifer. I don’t know if I can do this on my own.” 

“Yes you can.” She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “You can because you have to. She’s going through a lot, Spence. You remember how hard puberty was right? Well guess what? It’s twice as hard for girls. Her body is changing, in crazy kinds of ways, I imagine she’s starting her period, or at the very least will be soon. She’s noticing boys and she’s having all these new feelings. I’m afraid you need to cut her some slack.” 

Spencer frowned, leaning back up against the wall.

“A little while ago sanitary products started appearing in my bathroom. I assume Maeve gave them to her. Do you think she talks to Maeve about that stuff? It’s never really occurred to me before.” 

“I guess so, but Maeve’s the one you’d need to speak to.” 

“Boys would have been easier.” He whined. 

“You’ll be fine, Spence.” She chuckled lightly. “Just cut her some slack, ok? And talk to Maeve.” 

“My favourite activity.” He rolled his eyes as JJ started down the stairs. 

“I’ll see you later.” She smiled, offering him a wave.

He waved back before doing the same to Lily who was waving at him from the back seat of the car. He waited until the car pulled away before trudging back into the house. 

He went straight up to his office, ignoring the music blasting from Daisy’s room. He shut himself inside and started up his computer. He put his phone on the desk, looking down at it as the computer booted up, contemplating JJ’s words about speaking to Maeve. 

He stared at the blank screen before shaking his head and turning back to the computer. It could wait. 

He opened his emails and sifted through a few before he came across one sent a few hours ago from Doctor Maria Sanchez. His stomach coiled into knots as he opened it. 

Dear Doctor Reid, 

Thank you for completing our pre therapy questionnaire. I would like to arrange a call with you to discuss your therapy needs further. I have free office hours Monday to Friday between the hours of 16:30 and 18:30. Please let me know the best time and day for you and we can schedule a call.

Regards,

Doctor Maria Sanchez

He read it over a couple of times, nodding his head whilst he did so. He replied to let her know he was available any day between those times. He looked through a few other emails before turning his attention back to his phone. 

It really wouldn’t be a difficult feat for him to call his ex-wife, all he needed to do was unlock the device and find her contact. But in practice it was proving a lot harder than it needed to be. 

He stared at the phone for almost ten minutes, before out of nowhere it started to ring, startling him so much he actually jumped a little in his chair. 

And the strangest part was the name on the screen.

He swallowed thickly and picked up the phone, placing it to his ear.

“Maeve, hi.” He frowned to himself. “I was actually just thinking of calling you.”

“You were?” Her confusion was evident in her voice. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I kind of got into it with Daisy last night. Luke and Garcia were sitting the girls and I had to pick them up early because Daisy shoved Lily and called her a bitch repeatedly.” 

“Oh, that doesn’t sound like Daisy.” 

“I know. When we got home she just kept pushing my buttons and we fought, I’ve never fought with her like that before.” He sighed yet again. “But I spoke to JJ and she…uh, she thinks I need to talk to you.” 

“What about?” Maeve sounded sceptical. 

“Puberty in teenage girls.” He cringed at his own words.

“Ah,” Maeve’s voice had a hint of amusement to it.

“A few months back I started noticing boxes of sanitary products in the bathroom. Should I have talked to her about it? Is that what a dad is supposed to do?” 

“She came to me,” Maeve smiled down the phone. “I think I’ve got it covered since I’ve been there.”

“Right.” Spencer nodded. “And all those other female hormone things? The changes? It’s not all dissimilar to male puberty but there are certainly some variations.” 

“We’ve been through it, Spence, don’t worry. I know you like to think of yourself as a lone wolf but I am still her mother. Puberty is hard for anyone, I guess she’s acting out because of it. I know I gave my dad hell when I was her age.” 

“Super,” he sighed. “Do I talk to her about it? Would that help?”

“I think that would do more harm than good. Trust me when I say a girl does not want to talk to her father about her period or growing breasts.” 

“Oh jeez, I don’t even like hearing it coming from you.” Spencer groaned. “Boys, we should have had boys.” 

Maeve started to laugh, a real easy laugh. It may well have been the first time he’d heard that laugh from her since they broke up. And to both of their surprise, Spencer started to laugh too. 

“Whether we’re together or not Spencer, you have to remember we are still a team. I can cover those kinds of things, while you can stick to the educational stuff.” 

“Sounds good to me.” He agreed, feeling oddly at ease talking to her. “Sorry, you called me and I kind of accosted the conversation.” 

“It’s ok.” Maeve was still smiling, he could hear it in her voice. “I wanted to ask a favour actually.” 

“A favour?” He sat forward, eyebrows knitting together.

“Kind of.” She paused briefly. “Bobby and I were going to go out to California in the next few weeks to visit my family and I really wanted to take the girls. We were only going to go for a week, but if you already have plans with them or you just don’t want me to take them then that’s fine.” 

“Yes,” he was quick to answer. “Yes, I think you should most definitely do that.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes,” he repeated. “I haven’t always been fair to you but I think spending the week with you, going to California, would be great for the girls. I think it sounds like a wonderful idea actually.” 

There was a long stretch of silence and for a moment Spencer thought she had hung up. 

“I’m sorry, I think I must have dialled the wrong number. I’m trying to get hold of my cranky ex-husband Spencer Reid?” She teased, making Spencer roll his eyes.

“Don’t push your luck.” He smiled to himself. “Take the win, Maeve.” 

“You’re sure you are ok with this? Because I don’t want to book the flights and then have you change your mind.” 

“I’m sure. I swear I won’t change my mind.” 

“Thank you Spencer. That really means a lot to me.” 

“Please don’t get sappy.” He rolled his eyes and Maeve laughed.

“Ah there he is. That’s the Spencer I know.” She giggled. 

“I’m hanging up now.” He scoffed. 

“Bye Spencer.”

“Bye Maeve.” 

He hung up the phone and for the first time in over a year, Spencer didn’t feel weighed down after talking to his ex-wife. 

If anything he actually felt lighter. 

***

The next week went by without much of an incident. His house sale was moving, albeit slowly and Daisy being grounded meant he didn’t leave the house much, giving him time to start packing up his home. 

Luke came by twice to carry out more training with Taco and the girls enjoyed having him around. On Thursday he stayed for dinner but while Spencer was cooking his phone rang. 

Luke waved him off, telling him he couldn’t finish up with the preparations and Spencer went up to his office to take the phone call. 

He was gone for almost a half hour and when he returned he looked exhausted. Luke didn’t mention as much in front of the girls. 

They ate and it was up to Luke and Lily to carry the conversation as Daisy still wasn’t speaking to her dad and Spencer’s mystery phone call had clearly thrown him through a loop. 

After dinner the adults did the dishes while Daisy and Lily watched TV in the living room. Luke was eyeing Spencer curiously.

“So, who was the call from? You’ve been really quiet ever since.” He leaned against the counter while drying a plate.

“A therapist. My therapist I guess I should say.” Spencer sighed. 

“You’re seeing a therapist? I didn’t know.” 

“I haven’t yet. My first appointment is next week. The doctor just wanted to have a talk, she thinks I might benefit from medication.” 

“Antidepressants?” 

“Yeah,” Spencer nodded. “I thought I had a handle on everything, but taking medication seems like admitting that I don’t.” 

“It’s ok not to have a handle on everything, Spencer.” Luke moved closer to him, placing the plate on the draining board. “You have two kids, one of whom is a teenager. You’re a single, working dad, you’ve been trying to put yourself back out there and that’s not easy at the best of times. Sometimes asking for help is the bravest thing you can possibly do.” 

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” He nodded. “I’m contemplating…just contemplating, nothing has been decided yet, but the idea crossed my mind that maybe I might consider having mine and Maeve’s custody conditions reevaluated.” 

“Reevaluated?” Luke cocked an eyebrow. “As in…?”

“Joint custody. Equal time with the kids.” He chewed on his lip.

“Wow,” Luke didn’t hide his surprise. “Wow, that’s huge.”

“It’s just an idea. I haven’t decided on anything. But it would make my life a hell of a lot easier if I allowed myself to lean on Maeve a little more. I forget what an amazing mom she is sometimes. And I’m no superman, I can’t keep shouldering everything myself.” He pushed his hair back off of his face.

“You sure you haven’t been to therapy already? Because you sound like a man who has been going to therapy.” Luke chuckled. 

“I’m trying to broaden my horizons.” He rolled his eyes as Luke nudged him in the arm. 

“I’m proud of you, man.”

“Oh stop.” Spencer scowled. “Can we talk about something else?” 

“Sure,” Luke picked up another dish and started drying it. “How are things with Blair?” 

“We had one date,” Spencer shrugged. “I haven’t had a chance to see her since. We spoke on the phone once but we’ve both been busy. The girls are going to California with Maeve next week so maybe I’ll see her then.” 

“Hmm empty house and the girls will be out of state so they couldn’t possibly cock block you this time.” Luke suggestively wiggled his eyebrows. 

“I believe it was technically you who cock blocked me, as you so eloquently put it.” 

“It was either that or let your daughters kill each other.” Luke shrugged. “What’s up? You don’t seem all that excited about this woman.” 

Spencer grumbled under his breath, sometimes wishing his friends didn’t know him so well. 

“She’s great, really. Beautiful, funny, smart. She’s a single mom with a bad history with his her ex, she gets me in a way no one else ever has.”

“But?” Luke cocked his eyebrow curiously. 

“But she’s not Y/N.” Spencer shrugged. “I feel like I’m trying to force a relationship with Blair to help me get over Y/N but it’s having the opposite effect.” 

“Don’t be the asshole that uses a nice woman to deflect feelings from another.” 

“I’m trying. I think I could really like her.” Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth. “And is it so wrong that I’d really like to get laid?” 

Luke chuckled, shaking his head and slapping Spencer across the arm. 

“You are human after all.” Luke winked at him as he finished up the dishes. 

Spencer rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

***

He knocked tentatively on the door and waited for a response. He didn’t receive one. He knocked again and still didn’t get a reply so he pushed the door open. 

Luke had left a little while ago and Lily was in bed. Spencer had been trying to read in his office but he couldn’t focus on the pages. 

He’d stood outside of Daisy’s room for ten minutes before he finally knocked. 

He found her sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, a book cradled in her lap. When he entered she closed the book but she didn’t speak. 

“Can we talk? I’m kind of sick of this silent treatment now.” He asked and she simply nodded. He moved across the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. “Can we call a truce? I miss talking to my favourite girl.” 

Daisy rolled her lip between her teeth in contemplation and shrugged her shoulders. 

“I’m sorry about our fight ok? But you can’t treat your sister that way. You can’t treat me that way. Look I know I am the last person you want to be talking to about this but it recently occurred to me that you are going through a lot of…changes.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Gross dad, don’t.” Daisy pulled a face. 

“Your hormones are going crazy and you’re-”

“I beg of you to stop, please.” She cut him off. “I have mom to talk to about that stuff.” 

“All I’m saying is I understand.” He placed his hand on her knee. “Believe it or not I was a teenager too once. Puberty sucks. Most of all for me. I was so much younger than everyone in school and I didn’t understand why all the boys' voices were getting deeper and why they were growing hair in places I wasn’t.”

“Ew.” Daisy wrinkled her nose. “I do not need that image in my head.” 

“I was talking about my armpits and my legs.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “And I didn’t have a dad to talk to about any of it. And I could never talk to my mom because she was barely lucid. I didn’t understand why I was so different. When my voice did start to break I was so confused. I just need you to know that you can talk to me if you want to. Obviously I’m a man and I don’t quite understand everything you’re going through but I can try.” 

Daisy looked away from him, still chewing on her lip rather aggressively. 

“I get these…cramps when I’m…you know. Really bad sometimes and I don’t know how to stop them.” She was blushing and refusing to look at him.

“Ok, well exercise can help that, which I know doesn’t sound ideal but even a brisk walk can help release endorphins which change the way the brain processes pain and can make the pain feel less intense. We can get you a hot water bottle, that will help increase blood flow which in turn loosens the muscles that are contracting and will relieve pain. Warm baths can help relax your muscles too.” He started spouting off. “Will you tell me next time you’re in pain? I can help.”

“Ok.” She nodded. 

“And if you need any products or anything you don’t need to get your mom to buy them. You’ll tell me if you need anything?” 

“Sure.” She nodded, looking back up at him. “There is one thing I need.” 

“What is it, pumpkin?” He squeezed her knee encouragingly. 

“You mentioned hair growing…” her cheeks reddened and she slowly rolled up her pants leg revealing some little blonde fluffy hairs growing on her shin. “I only noticed it recently, when we were at the pool I heard some girl mention it. I don’t think Cam noticed but I’d be mortified if he did.” 

“I will buy some razors next time we go to the grocery store.” He smiled gently at her. 

“I might need you to show me how.” Her cheeks flushed a darker shade. 

“I mean I don’t have much experience shaving legs but I’m pretty well versed in shaving my face so I’m sure we can figure it out together.” He chuckled. 

“Thanks dad.” She suddenly threw herself into his arms and he caught her with ease, wrapping her tightly in his embrace. 

“You’re welcome, pumpkin.” He kissed the top of her head. 

“And I’m sorry I was a…B word.” 

“You weren’t a B word. You were a little rude and next time you talk to me like that you will never see this again.” He pulled back so he could retrieve her cell phone from his pocket before handing it to her. 

She stared down at the device, a large smile blossoming on her face. 

“Thank you, dad!” She grinned, clutching the phone like it was a stuffed toy. 

“It does come with a condition.” 

“What?” She frowned at him. 

“You’re going to California with your mom and Bobby. You leave Friday for a week.” 

“A week? With mom?” She whined. 

“You’ll have a good time. You’ll get to see grandma and grandpa.” He nudged her in the arm. 

“You’re cruel.” She pouted. 

“And I’m also your father so what I say goes.” He shrugged. “You’ll have fun. You can go to the beach. You like the beach.” 

“Can I see Cam before I go?” She continued to pout. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” He pushed himself up from the bed. “Daisy, you said something the other night and it kinda stuck with me.”

“I’m sure I didn’t mean it.” She was already plugging her phone in to charge. 

“But you said it and it’s been bothering me.” He sighed. “Do you have a problem with me dating? Because if you do, I don’t have to.” 

“I want you to be happy.” She shrugged. “But I don’t think Cam’s mom makes you happy. Y/N did. What happened to her?” 

“You’re too young for me to answer that.” He pulled a face.

“Gross. For the record I will never be old enough to hear about your sex life.” 

“Daisy!” He gasped. “That is not what I was getting at. Jeez, I miss the days before you could talk.” 

“No you don’t.” She giggled. 

“Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” He chuckled. 

“Love you dad.”

“Love you too, pumpkin.” 

***

“Thanks again for doing this, you really didn’t need to take the afternoon off of work.” Spencer spoke as he ushered Daisy and Lily inside the cute single story Virginia home. 

“Oh you know how it is. When the man you’ve been on one date with calls you up and asks you to look after his kids for the afternoon, I just couldn’t say no.” Blair smirked at him. 

“Is it super weird that I called?” He pulled a face. 

“It would have been less weird if you’d called more than once since our date or maybe even asked me out again. But it’s fine.” She shrugged. 

“I have every intention of asking you out again. My ex is taking the girls to California on Friday for a week and my schedule is wide open.” He smiled at her. 

“I’ll see if I can fit you into mine.” She smirked again. “So what is this emergency?” 

“Work thing.” He waved her off. “My friends are all FBI Agents and they’re away on a case, otherwise I would have asked one of them to watch the girls.” 

“Your friends are FBI Agents?” She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah, did I not mention I’m ex-FBI?”

“You did not.” 

“I’ll tell you all about it on our next date ok? But I’ve really got to go. I shouldn’t be long.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek before he was quickly dashing back down the path, calling back over his shoulder, “be good girls, I won’t be long!” 

The last thing he’d wanted to do was bother Blair with this but with the BAU team away and Maeve and Bobby both at work he didn’t know who else to ask. 

He’d tried to move his first therapy appointment until next week after the girls left for the west coast but Doctor Sanchez’s books were full, she’d only gotten him in so soon because Tara had said something no doubt. 

He was incredibly nervous as he drove across town to her office, not knowing what to expect if he was honest. 

Before long he found himself being introduced to a middle aged woman with dark eyes and hair that was greying around the roots. 

She led him in and offered him a seat on the couch while she sat in a chair opposite him.

“It’s nice to meet you Doctor Reid.” Doctor Sanchez smiled at him. 

“Call me Spencer,” he threaded his fingers together in his lap. 

“Ok Spencer,” she mirrored his position, maybe to try and put him at ease. “So I would like to start by asking what brought you to therapy.” 

That was a loaded question. 

Spencer exhaled, eyebrows knitting together as he focused on what he wanted to say. 

“Well, my wife and I split up about a year ago. She was having an affair for a long time. It’s only been recently that I’ve started to let myself express my own feelings over the divorce. I have two girls and my main priority was protecting them from everything. I tried to start dating and in the process my residual feelings towards my wife kinda came to the surface.” He exhaled again.

“Ok that’s a good start,” she smiled encouragingly. “Let’s start from the beginning. When you and your ex-wife first met. What was that like?” 

“Uh…she was a one night stand.” He toyed with his hands. “Or I mean, she was supposed to be. She got pregnant with Daisy, my eldest, she’s fourteen. Maeve and I got married before we had a chance to fall in love.” 

“I see,” Sanchez nodded. “And you were married for…?”

“Thirteen years.” 

“A long time.”

“I suppose so.” He was chewing nervously on the inside of his cheek. 

“So you said you’ve only recently allowed yourself to feel the weight of her affair?” 

“Yeah. I told everyone, including myself, that I was ok because I was never really in love with her. I tried to pretend I was just angry that she hurt our daughter’s. But I did love her. And I guess I’m finding it hard to reconcile how I can still be in love with someone who hurt me so much. And also how I can be in love with someone else at the same time.” He frowned, looking down at his hands. 

This was going to be a long and bumpy road, he knew that much to be true. But he was at the very least trying. 

And sometimes that’s all we can do. 

@foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove

[toska-writes]

Clones as random things me and my friends/family have said!

A fic will be out soon I promise!

Fives: “It ends with e, but not the letter the sound.”

Fox: “I’ve been abused a lot” *Nervous laughter* “I’m only partly kidding”

Hardcase: “I dont like the normal pedophiles, I Iike the magic ones. They’re more fun.”

Wolffe: “I’m gonna bark at this kid on the speeder,” *starts barking* “Oh my god that is not a kid.”

Hunter: “I made a mistake”

Wrecker: “There’s steak??”

Rex: *501st doing something stupid* “Im gonna lose all 7 of my marbles if you don’t stop”

Cody: “just because I find a man attractive dosent mean I’m gay” *is definitely gay*

Tech: “Stupid questions get stupid answers.”

Bly: “I cry at least once a year.”

Fox: “I cry every night sooooo….”

Waxer: You’re drinking straight milk?

Boil: *holding two glasses of milk* No the milk just came out as gay

Crosshair: “We probably shouldn’t do that Tech has asthma…….. wait no it’s allergies”

Wolffe: “If I rolled my eyes any harder, I’d go blind.”

Jesse: “I guess his spider senses didn’t kick in” *talking about JFK*

Fives: “No flash photography Echo” *Scolding tone*

Echo: “DiD yOu SeE a FlAsH”

Gregor: *doing finger guns* “Don’t worry this is a squirt gun”

Hardcase: *Shouting in a public place* “My underwear are too big and they’re pulling my pants down!”

Droidbait: “I just wanna play wrestle”

Hevy: *Cracking fingers* “You don’t play wrestle, you wrestle wrestle”

Cody: *talking about Crys* “He’s like the weakest breed of human being, he doesn’t have a middle name and he has scoliosis. Way to double down.”

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

OH MY GOD YOU HEAR THE AUDIO THING TOO I THOUGHt I WAS GOING INSANE

Yeah idk during the first few episodes the voice acting felt kinda off but I wasn’t really sure why?????

It didn’t feel like a problem later (either it got better or I got used to it)

also (I think) the expressions (and general animation) improve a lot by the end of the season (though the characters faces still look kinda different?? Like their mouths and eyes look kinda funky? Idk am I going crazy?)

(I answered this ask and my wifi died and deleted everything I wrote so this might sound like a not great answer cause I’m trying to remember what I said)

OH THANK HECK ITS NOT JUST ME. can’t say whether or not things stay off or shift back since I’ve only watched up to ep 2 but I’ll definitely be paying attention to it. Ngl I think the faces absolutely do look off but that’s to be expected, I’d be shooketh if they managed to replicate exactly what they looked like in previous seasons

IM NOT CRAZY MY GOSHVJKSNFKJSDNFKJDNS listen listen i do my best not to criticize things just for the sake of criticizing I don’t want to be brutally salty just cause the animation isn’t FB I really want to give this new version of the show a shot, but it’s DEFINITELY not JUST the animation that’s different, other stuff is off too, stuff that doesn’t make sense to be different just because of an animation change and I’m not saying it to be critical I’m just saying it because I’m noticing that it’s different

WE THREE OUT HERE FR

I gotta say I definitely feel a lot better knowing I’m not losing my marbles, I really did think I was going nuts, knowing other people noticed it to is REAL NICE, and I’m glad I could help ya feel a bit better too it’s nice to not feel like you’re going bananas. It can definitely feel like people are one of two extremes rn, either hardcore hating or not wanting to talk about what might be different because they don’t want to get anywhere near being negative (‘which is totally fine btw positivity is much needed in this world Fr) and it’s nice to know there are some fans out there who notice what’s off and are willing to discuss it a bit but not like, jumping right to animation hate THANKS FOR THE ASKS GUYS WE AIN’T CRAZYKLJGLIEFNVSF

[beans-core]

watched Deadpool 3 today. Please excuse me while I lose any marbles I’ve managed to convince you I have.

Spoilers! duh

Number one. First and absolute foremost. I will absolutely cream my jeans if Deadpool makes any cameo in any other marvel show/movie. Seeing him talk with Happy Hogan was already so great, and seeing any other characters trying to tolerate deadpools bullshit would be INCREDIBLE.

Something specifically that would make me happy cry would be seeing DP with Spider-Man. plEASE. Idgaf if they recast Spider-Man for a fourth fucking time or something but oml I would watch the hell out of that. (It would prob make the OTP SpideyPool shippers cream their jeans too, now that Tom hollands Spider-Man is legal. Would be a hell of a cradle-robbery though jfc.)

Number two. Honestly, I’d be completely fine if there were no more Deadpool movies. I feel like it’s alright to stop a good thing before it become a bad thing. E.g: not over doing it. It’s happened in many movies franchises before, and if happens to Deadpool I’ll probably kms. Like, three whole good movies is already teetering on the ledge. It’s fear-edging me. I’m scared the greed is gonna come back (did it really ever leave?) and target DP. So if they stop the movies while the going is good, I’d understand, but if so— please dear god I hope DP still makes appearances.

As in: maybe a tv show? Like, wasn’t there going to be an animated show at one point? It got scrapped I think, but something like that would fuck hard.

Number three. Just. Hugh Jackman. MAN. I’m ecstatic to see him play wolverine again. Positively quivering with excitement. I have no earthly idea if this was a one time thing, a final-but-for-real-this-time hurrah. But if it was: worth it. I squeaked when I saw him back on screen. Was shitting screaming crying at the end of ‘Logan’ when I first watched it (amazing movie btdubs) and even though it’s hilarious that Marvel didn’t let his movie-story end there— they just went “how about no”— I’m kinda glad that they didn’t just ignore that Wolverine ever died. And the fact that this movie helped set up a more coherent timeline for a bunch of other movies!!! I appreciate that sooo much!!!

Also. happy to see the movie people making another excuse to get wolverine naked.

“There are 206 bones in the human body. 207 if [Hugh Jackman is there].”

yeah okay I’m done. For now.

if you need someone to geek out about with, I’m here. Hmu. But beware, I’m not versed much in marvel’s comics.

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 9.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

Warnings For This Chapter: Making Out, Pet Names, Praise, Jeongguk Has A Tongue Ring, Daddy Kink, Cunnilingus, Big Dick!Jeongguk, Begging, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie

By the time you got home from the long night of social interactions with people who count money like sheep, it was just simply too dark to drive further from your mansion to take Jeongguk back home to his apartment.

It's not that you couldn't drive but then the rainstorm began and it wouldn't be safe with the slippery roads.

So now as it strikes one in the morning Jeon Jeongguk is paralyzed with fear to even be in your mansion at such a late hour.

"So where am I even supposed to sleep?" he inquires softly.

He sounds almost like a lost, scared child looking for his parents.

And you would feel bad for him if it wasn't hilarious and he wasn't almost thirty years old.

"Well none of the guest rooms have furniture so either on the couch that's harder than a rock or in my bed. Your choice, really," you reply, pulling your gloves slowly off your arms.

He opens his mouth to respond before tilting his head to look at the artistic couch down below the banister of the second floor, his eyebrows notch and he groans long and low at the prospect.

"I can't sleep in your bed! I'd be violating your privacy!" he guffaws, shaking his head sternly as if to wipe away any bad thoughts.

"Guk, the bed is from wall to wall. You don't have to sleep on top of me. You'll fall asleep and won't even remember a thing," you promise, unzipping the back of your dress and stepping into your closet.

"But…But… Why don't you have any furniture in your rooms anyway?!"

He sounds nervous and anxious, a sign that just screams to you that he might actually enjoy it if he just allows himself to.

When his eyes rake over the smooth skin of your back, the wildest of thoughts flit through his brain and he really loses all sense of self then.

"Because I don't want people staying over… duh," you chirp, stripping out of your dress.

"But I'm an exception?! You have no backbone!" Jeongguk scoffs, folding his arms childishly.

When he notices that he can catch the reflection of you getting naked in one of the glass doors that house your couture gowns, he wrestles with himself for a moment before turning to face the large fish tank at the end of the long hall.

"You sound embarrassed," you tease, grabbing your nightgown.

When you slip it over your head, your eye catches your shortest nightgown and you freeze.

You haven't had fun in a long time, probably longer than what most doctors would consider to be normal. So maybe tonight, just tonight, you'll have some fun.

"I'm not embarrassed! I could sleep next to you just fine! I just-just… It's not right! It'd be taking advantage!"

"It's not taking advantage," you counter, stepping outside of your closet, "and if you feel that way then you could sleep on the floor."

"I'm not gonna sleep on the floor! It's marbl-"

Jeongguk stops mid-sentence to choke on his own spit as you step in front of him. Your nightgown is incredibly short, the rich lace hem landing right below the curve of your ass. As for your breasts, well, he's lucky your nipples are covered.

With his eyes widening to the size of saucers, he opts to staring up at the ceiling.

"I think you're a baby," you tease, heading off towards your bedroom.

With every step you take, his eyes seem to become grounded more and more until they're watching your hips sway with criminal intent towards the room that has brought this panic on to begin with.

"Change," he begs, his voice sounding weak.

If his body did what it wanted without the help of his brain, he'd be crashing to his knees and crawling toward you begging to let him have any inch of you that you'd offer him.

"No, you're a baby," you giggle, entering your room.

"But-"

"Guk, it's just sleep. It's almost two in the morning. I'm exhausted. You can either sleep with me or on the floor, it's up to you but I'm laying down now."

The handsome escort makes his second fatal mistake by watching you crawl into bed. Your breasts sway and you look at him with these doe-like eyes that make his legs go weak.

Luckily, he's holding himself upright as he leans against the doorjamb.

"I'm not staring at you all night as you loom over me in the distance like some kind of fever dream monster or something," you sigh, laying down on your side and putting your arm beneath your pillow for comfort.

"God!" the handsome man complains, walking over to the bed beside you.

He begins to strip off his clothes, revealing more and more of his golden toned skin that sings with black and grey ink.

He's staring at you hoping you don't stare at him but you do. Your eyes are becoming less and less dead by the second, every time a new ab is revealed your head is even lifting up off of the pillow.

"I thought you were tired?" Guk chuckles.

Now it's your turn to get defensive.

"I am! I'm not looking at you!" you retort, turning away from him with pinched eyebrows.

Now he's got his confidence back.

When you're flustered it's easier for him to play around, he's not used to being flustered himself.

"Come on, baby," he purrs playfully, crawling into bed behind you and pressing his bare chest to your back, "kiss me."

"God! Go sleep on the floor!" you hiss, squeezing your eyes shut and shimmying down the bed away from him.

His chuckle is deep and delighted, almost carefree to the point of dangerousness.

"That…" he begins, wrapping his arm around your stomach and pressing his lips to your ear, "would be uncomfortable. You were right, it's just sleep. I can stay the night in bed with you."

His cologne is still pleasant and it tickles your senses to have him so close.

Guk's arm is warm and comforting around you, not so much claustrophobic as you would have assumed.

The air is turning into something tumultuous, something powerful and Earth shatteringly dangerous.

You're getting turned on.

You can feel every inch of his hard muscled chest and stomach digging into your scantily clad back and the escort is doing nothing to stop it.

"I'm not paying you for this," you remind him, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it to your front for comfort.

"You're not paying me at all, Y/N," he counters, closing his eyes, "If you want me to stop, just say so. I respect that no means no."

But you don't utter a word.

Jeongguk shifts closer, allowing you to feel the effect you have on him.

The globes of your ass are supple against his hips and you can feel his erection digging into you for relief.

Your lips open in surprise but you only squeeze your eyes tighter.

"You don't fuck clients," you whisper, gripping the pillow against your chest harder.

"No," he agrees, drifting his lips over the shell of your ear slowly, "you're not paying me, you're not my client, baby."

Jeongguk fucking wants this. He's throwing caution to the wind, he might be making a hell of a mistake but he'll take that on the chin too.

He knows you both have a connection, he knows he's into you and he thinks you're pretty into him too.

"Do you not want me to touch you, Wednesday?" he asks seriously, sitting up on his elbow.

"No," you answer immediately.

"Okay," he breathes, pulling away from you.

You shimmy your way farther across the bed before the encroaching loneliness begins to eat at you again.

When Guk is around you, you don't have time to feel it.

So all you do is pout.

You're confused! You don't know what to do! You want to be happy and live in lalaland but can you really indulge in that?!

"Yes," you say in the silent bedroom.

The escort is on you in a matter of moments, pressing his full lips to yours in a searingly hot kiss.

Your hands tangle into his black locks and you tug softly. He hums against you greedily, the sound sending tingles through your limbs at a satisfying pace.

"C'mere, c'mere," he hisses, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up into his lap.

He feels like a drug addict, he's strung out on you and he needs more to function

Your legs wrap around his waist and when you whimper against his lips, his eyes roll back.

"Is this expensive?" he inquires, wrapping his fingers in the spaghetti straps of your nightgown.

"Yes," you answer, pulling away from him.

"Oh, good," he breathes, tugging roughly and feeling the fabric turn to strings before him.

He lays you down softly, watching how your hair billows out around you in tendrils on your pillow. Guk stays nestled between your thighs, running a free hand over your skin.

"You're so smooth and soft," he groans, pulling the useless fabric away from your body to see all of you.

At this moment, you want to cover up and hide. You want to push him off and just curl into the fetal position.

He can see that. He can see the sudden fright in his eyes and his heart hurts at the sight.

"I'm right here, just focus on me," he whispers, pulling at your hands until he lays them flat against his chest.

Your nails dig into his skin softly and the hiss he gives, the way his hips rut to yours on instinct has you distracted all over again.

Finally, he lets his eyes travel down your body.

"God, you're perfect," he mumbles, cupping your breasts.

"Guk, I-I don't know. I'm not… I don't…" you whisper, looking up at him.

When his mocha irises meet yours, they soften. "We can stop, do you want to stop, baby?"

He goes to retract his hands but the prospect of not having him might eat you alive more than if you do.

"I don't know," you answer honestly.

"That's not an answer," he chuckles, leaning down and kissing you softly.

His tongue fights for dominance with yours and it wins so easily that you can feel the ice cold walls around your heart melt within seconds.

You don't want to stop.

But you're scared.

So you're truthful with him and you voice it.

"I'm not going anywhere, Wednesday. I'm not Jasper. I'm here with you, I'm not leaving," he promises.

He's so confident and so heartfelt with his words that you just let yourself be.

You don't want to be this person anymore.

You aren't this person with Jeongguk and you really like that.

He makes you forget heartache and pain, he makes you forget anger and emptiness.

"Do you want this?" he asks, brushing some stray hairs from your face.

"Yes," you nod, giving a shaky breath.

His smile is wide and beaming and he caresses your cheek with the softest touch.

"Good girl," he praises softly, going back to his earlier route.

The praise has your mind spinning, like you're on some kind of serotonin drug.

His hands cup your breasts and he can only compliment them as his lips trail down your neck. "You've got a gorgeous body, Wednesday."

His thumbs flick at your hardening nipples and your back arches with a whimper that sounds so odd tumbling from your lips.

"That's it, gorgeous," Guk hisses, wrapping his perfect lips around your pert nipple.

He hasn't touched a woman in ages either,  he himself hasn't been touched in what feels like years.

The escort wants this so badly, he can't even remind himself to pace himself, he just needs you, he just wants you so badly that it feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

"Say my name," he whispers, moving to your unattended breast and flicking your nipple with the tip of his tongue.

The action sends shivers up your spine and you cry out softly for more.

"Jeongguk!"

His eyes flutter closed at the sincerity of the word and he's all but ready to just give his whole self to you.

He could fall in love with you right now if he's not careful.

One hand continues to play with your breast, pinching and plucking at you until you're short of breath while the other rips your satin underwear away from your core with ease.

"Oh my God," you gasp, putting your head back and squeezing your eyes shut.

The escort kisses down your stomach until his arms are wrapping around your thighs to cage you into a device of his making.

He licks his lips, ogling how much arousal has made you a sodden mess before him and he wants to scream to Heavens to thank them for this opportunity.

"You okay?" Guk inquires sweetly, kissing from your knee to your inner thigh.

"Y-Yeah," you breathe, lifting up on your elbows.

"Good," he hisses, licking a flat stripe up your folding.

Your hands grip at the sheets, mouth dropping open at how warm and wet his mouth is.

"Tongue ring or no tongue ring?" he asks, letting his tongue hang past his lips.

"J-... I-... What?!" you whine, bunching your hands up in his hair.

His smirk is devilish and he chuckles deeply. "Tongue ring it is."

He begins to devour you, suckling and licking at your slit like a man possessed and you crash back down to the bed with moans ripping from your throat.

"Oh fuck! Guk!" you cry out, tugging roughly in his hair.

"Call me daddy," he murmurs, wrapping his lips around your swollen nub.

You're so blissed out that you can't even process his words but you still do as told. "Daddy! Oh my God!"

"Good girl," Guk breathes, inching two fingers towards your entrance.

Your lungs heave with heavy breaths and you watch with rapid fascination as he inches his fingers inside of you.

"You're fucking tight," Jeongguk groans heartily, attaching his lips back to your clit.

He fucks his fingers into you quickly, subsiding the burn of the stretch immediately.

Your legs tingle with pleasure and your toes curl, your mind is jumbled up and all you can feel is this deep ache within your stomach getting bigger and bigger.

When you had sex before, Jasper never looked up at you. He never even went down on you usually but Jeongguk is so present with you.

He stares up at you like he wants to see your pleasure, he wants to treasure this moment. He adores how you writhe and moan for him, he wants you to give everything over to him.

There's adoration in his eyes and you've never seen that before so it pushes you towards the precipice even faster.

He fucks his fingers into you dilligently, groaning at your taste and how loud your moans are that echo off the mansion walls.

"Give it to me, baby," he seethes through his teeth, "I can feel your pussy begging for it."

The handsome man between your legs curls his fingers quickly to the soft patch of muscles inside of you and you yelp softly at the overwhelming feeling.

It's like he already knows how to coax what he wants from you.

"Cum for me and I'll give you my cock," he promises.

It's strange how even in the throes of pleasure you can still find the sassiness you've become so used to peeking out of you. "Wh-Who said I want it?"

Guk chuckles against you, the ragged, hot breath making your back bow. "This pretty pussy says, now cum for me."

He curls his fingers faster until the ache in your stomach bursts and your thighs lock around his shoulders.

Your orgasm is filled with loud moans and white eyelids, your body quivers and racks and Jeongguk sits up to watch it all.

Fuck, you're gorgeous.

Why don't you understand this?

How is he going to make you understand?

Pulling his cock out of his briefs, he strokes it leisurely, waiting for you to come back down to Earth with him.

When your ears stop ringing, you blink once or twice only to be met with the beautiful sight before you.

His cock is long, longer than you expected and so thick that it makes your breath catch. The mushroom tip is red with need and the precum that weeps from his slit is so enticing that your legs open up for him without a second thought.

"Do you want to?" he inquires, leaning down to kiss you.

The kiss is slow and passionate, and he lets go of his cock to hold your face between his hands.

You nod against his lips and he can only smirk.

"Fuck me," you beg, dragging your fingers over his arms.

"Yes ma'am," he whispers, leaning up on his elbow.

You don't know this but he's not going to fuck you. He's going to make love to you but he won't tell you that because it would probably scare the hell out of you.

He positions himself at your entrance, staring deeply into your eyes.

This feels almost too emotional for you but you can't seem to tear your eyes away from his for even a second.

Guk enters you slowly, groaning at the tightness before kissing you languidly to distract you from the stretch.

"Oh my God!" you groan against his lips.

"I'm sorry, is it too big?" he asks with a knowing smile.

"No!" you hiss, letting your eyes flutter shut.

"Oh, no? It's not the biggest cock you've taken in this tight little pussy?" he teases, pulling out and thrusting roughly into you.

Your moan is so loud it could constitute for a scream and you grab for anything to steady yourself.

He gives you his hands, intertwining them and holding them over your head.

"You're so beautiful, Wednesday," he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Daddy!" you whine, squeezing his hands.

"I got you, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I promise," Jeongguk avows, thrusting into you harder.

His promise is heartfelt and sincere and that radiates deep inside of you.

Every thrust has meaning and an intention to solidify that.

"God, this pussy feels so fucking good. You're so fucking wet!"

"All for you," you breathe.

You're sincere too.

And he knows it.

"Fuck," he curses, picking up the pace.

Your breasts jiggle with his movements and your mind is muddling again all on its own.

He lets one hand go to slide it down your stomach until it nestles against your throbbing bud and he rubs smooth, fast circles.

"Daddy! Fuck! Yes!"

"Yeah? You like that? You want more, baby? You want to cum for me again?"

You nod incessantly, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Then cum," he coos softly, burying his face in your neck.

Your perfume wraps him in this loving shroud where nothing could ever bother him. You keep him peaceful in this moment.

"I feel it, baby, give it to me. Your pussy is milking my cock so nicely," he groans muffled into your skin.

"G-Guk!" you cry out, squeezing his one hand tighter.

The way you call his name, the anxiousness behind it has him lifting his head.

"I'm right here, Y/N," he whispers, kissing you and coaxing the orgasm from you peacefully.

You whine loudly against his lips, letting go of everything.

The escort groans loudly at how your pussy clenches around him, practically begging him for his seed so he can only comply.

"Oh fuck! I'm cumming! I'm cumming, baby girl!"

His thrusts become shorter and harder until he spills his seed inside of you with shaky breath.

"Baby," he moans loudly, wrapping his arms around you.

Both of your hearts are beating so fast that it feels like they might just give up out of nowhere without warning.

He pulls out of you slowly, laying down by your side and he doesn't even give you a chance to pull away. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair as he closes his eyes.

There's comfortable silence for a while, it's so comfortable that you haven't even had a chance to begin to worry yet.

"I want you to meet my dog," he mumbles sleepily, kissing your shoulder.

"Your dog?" you inquire with a tired giggle.

"He's the only other one that means more to me in this universe than anything."

"The only other one?" you breathe curiously.

He smirks tiredly, closing his eyes.

"Yeah. You heard me, Wednesday."

<----- Last Chapter            Next Chapter ----->

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 19

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger"

Warnings: here there be smut muahaha

A/N: Dividers by me, many thanks to @desertbcrnnobody for beta help and also my high school physics teacher for fuckin me up about the nature of the universe and macrophysics

series masterlist

chapter 19: ins and outages

Osha remembered another lesson from her high school physics class, some weeks after the three-stage collision lesson. Her teacher had said the earth spun incredibly fast, too fast for anybody to really ever notice it. But there were signs of movement: sunrises and sunsets, weather, gravity itself—all those things were already so integrated into daily life on earth that it felt like the earth wasn’t even spinning at all, if one grew bored enough.

What would happen if it actually did stop spinning? Osha asked back then.

The look her teacher had given her seemed better suited to a man who’d stepped on a landmine’s pressure plate.

We would all die, he said. A simple and brutal truth. Everything would die.

And then we won’t have to worry about the midterm on Tuesday, because there’d be no such thing as midterms, or Tuesdays, or even the concept of worrying—because nothing would be alive to feel anything at all. The world would go… smooth, I think, like a marble. If the arrested motion were sudden enough, perhaps some tectonic plates would break off and go spinning into orbit. The earth would stop spinning, but everything not held down would keep moving—and that’s everything. And once homeostasis was reached, and there was nothing left but a homogenous mess of what used to be…

Things would be quiet. They would be quiet, because there would be nothing else left to be. All this would happen in less than a second—microscopic fractions of a second, before there were no more seconds at all.

Qimir’s sudden, total stillness didn’t portend the complete evisceration of the world around him, but his face held some of that devastation—just a microscopic fraction of it.

Osha didn’t know what to say to jumpstart things again, to reset something like gravity, but just before her blood went cold, he took a deep breath. She watched him, unmoving, as he broke the tableau and sipped his coffee—like he hadn’t just terrified her with the complete shift in his body language.

“I assume she was speaking with Vernestra?” he asked, voice carefully free of any inflection.

Osha still didn’t know what to say. Perhaps he’d been the axis, and she’d been the planet wiped out to a glassy, smooth marble. It wasn’t his world that was ending. He seemed… fine. Sipping his coffee, speaking evenly.

“She was,” Osha said, sticking to the bare truth. “They were talking about, um, working together again. I didn’t know what that… meant.” Even though Indara had kind of put the cart before the horse on that one.

He hummed, but there was a distinct lack of life to it.

This was a bad idea.

As he spoke, he kept his eyes away from her, focused instead on the middle distance. “Idise is a private investigator,” he said plainly, mostly to the wall. “About fifteen years ago, Vernestra hired her to follow me and report on my activities.”

Osha nearly vibrated with the sudden, flooding rage that swept in as her fears were confirmed. How dare she show her face at the Temple and get all cozy with Qimir after that?

“That was how we met,” he said. “I’d been gunrunning for the Hutts for six months when they brought her snooping to my attention—they told me to handle her. So I go out one night and lead her to where I wanted to rush her.”

“What?” Osha whispered. She felt like she’d be sick, forcing herself to take steady, even breaths through her nose.

“I had nothing to lose. I was slowly starving to death because, in those days, all I’d eat was black-market pain medication. If that wasn’t going to kill me, something else was bound to. I was just going through the motions.”

Her heart still didn’t slow as he kept going.

“And then she—” he laughed.

Laughed.

Wait, what?

“I lead her to this parking lot, and Idise just—rushes me. Just how I was going to rush at her. She comes at me with some—I think I called it kung-fu shit back then—she ended up breaking my nose before she put me in a one-handed submission hold that still almost makes me pass out—”

He was… smiling. It was a rueful, unhappy smile, but it was clear he took some actual joy from this memory. What the fuck?

“—but the specifics aren’t important here. She asked me who the hell I was to Vernestra Rwoh, and why the hell did she want to watch me so badly. I don’t know exactly what I said, but I told her the truth, I know that much. Told her I was a loose end. And that much is true now as it was then.”

He’d told her as much, more than a week ago—in his office, talking about destruction and conspiracies.

“I told you I was street fighting back then—the Hutts ran kind of the same fight night deal that Unplan does, but people often left that ring in body bags, not ambulances. I was in that ring for-fucking-ever. That time is just as fuzzy as my time at the Temple, probably worse, because of the drugs. I thought Idise was trying to kill me at first, I absolutely believe it’s not beneath Vernestra to put a hit on someone like me.”

He said it so casually it made Osha’s heart stop.

“But then, this P.I. chick breaks my nose, almost has me throw up and pass out, then she starts babbling about some conspiracy with the Temple, how she’d been piecing shit together and found a bunch of people who knew but were hushed up about it. I told her… I told her I didn’t care.”

“Wh—?” Osha wasn’t certain what she was reacting to: Idise knowing about the corruption in the Temple, Idise admitting that knowledge to Qimir, or his ultimately nihilistic attitude towards all of it. He cared, Osha knew. He had the capacity to care, deep as trenches.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because when he met her eyes again, his jaw flexed, chewing back whatever words he was going to say in favor of something else.

“I was in a bad place, Osha. I lived every day like I thought it would be my last, and not in a good way. My spine had been fixed by surgery when I was 17, but by the time I turned 19, I was in immense pain every single day—no support net, couldn’t get a job, hadn’t finished high school since Vernestra ‘homeschooled’ me. No money, no friends, no home. All the titles and accolades I’d won for Vernestra had been sanitized, marking the Temple as the victor against another fighter. And the prize cash was held in a trust I never ever saw. I had nothing.

“All I had was my pain, and I didn’t even want that. So I numbed it with drugs; the Hutts were more than happy to provide them as payment for my services.”

He drained the rest of his coffee, looking mildly disgusted.

“What happened after that?” Osha asked. He got up, getting himself another cup and sitting down before speaking.

“Obviously, I couldn’t kill her in the end. I pursued it for a while, it kept me occupied. She outfoxed me mentally, outclassed me physically, and knew more about me than I knew about myself back then. And somehow, breaking that routine, the dull violence and crime the Hutts tasked me with, it snapped some sense back into me. I didn’t want to kill her. I didn’t want to kill anybody. I didn’t want to hurt anybody, not on the streets, not in the ring. I’d seen other guys do it. But I couldn’t—” His voice tightened around an invisible chokehold. “I just couldn’t.”

Osha knew she was probably crazy for it, but she believed every word he said. She accepted every ounce of darkness he shared with her. Without hesitation or reluctance, she took his hand and held it tight. I’m here, she conveyed. I believe you, and I’m still here. It gave him bravery, she thought.

“Idise kept trying to talk to me, even after I tried to tell her off, tell her the Hutts wanted her dead. But she wouldn’t listen. She was focused on me joining her crusade against the Temple. I’d tried doing that before, throwing bricks and making threats against them. And it’s a truth I took too long to learn, that a lot of unfortunate people took too long to understand: the Temple is just too big to beat.”

Osha’s flare of indignance was difficult to obscure.

“But Idise had this idea. If enough people—people who know, you know—stand against the Temple, they might actually be able to do something. They couldn’t sue us all—that was her logic. I didn’t care, though. I was still starving, I was just a little more scared, now. I kept avoiding her, but she’d find me. Tell her off. Avoid her. She found me. Rinse-repeat.” He stopped again, taking a few breaths. Shaky inhale, shaky exhale. “Then the Hutts caught wind that I hadn’t—handled her.”

Osha’s blood finally went cold. “Shit,” she whispered.

He nearly tripped over his words, trying to speak quickly just to get this story over with. “It’s a—it’s a story not worth telling. It’s not important right now. When they were done with me, I was completely fucked up. They left me for dead out in the street. And then—”

With the curtains drawn back from the morning sunlight, they could hardly tell the power in the apartment had gone out—if it weren’t for the power-down bwrhhhh that seemed to come from the walls. Just as fast as the power had gone out, it returned.

Damn winter power outages. 

“Keep going, please,” Osha said when he didn’t immediately speak up.

He looked like he wanted to protest for her sake, but nodded. “Idise found me. Took me somewhere safe. I got back on my feet. Got my diploma, then started college. I didn’t want to, but I tried to pay back Idise by helping her dig for information about Vernestra and the Temple. She didn’t have as much as she made it out to seem.”

“What—hold on, what about Vernestra hiring her?”

He nodded, an oh yeah expression on his face. “She’d fed Vernestra enough to get some information in return. When Vernestra’s stories started not adding up with what she had found out herself, she knew she had to get out of the spider’s web while she could. She told Vernestra that my trail went cold when I joined up with the slugs—code for I don’t wanna get involved with the Hutts. Two weeks after parting ways with Vernestra, Idise broke my nose in a parking lot.”

The wry little smile on his face was confounding.

This wasn’t what Osha thought she’d hear from him. She’d anticipated vitriol and a history of deceit, of… anything but nostalgia. She felt incredibly silly for making wild assumptions about Idise and her history with the Temple. Osha’s vitriol toward her at the gym all at once felt so stupid and embarrassing. She’d been telling the truth.

I’m not working for her. I wouldn’t do that to him.

“You told me you stopped searching for evidence,” Osha said.

He nodded. “I did. Almost a decade ago. Called off the hunt two years into pre-med. Before, my days were spent cramming science, my nights were spent helping the team follow any lead to take down the Temple. One half seeking to do no harm, one half only seeking harm. It was eating me up—scraping me raw. It was… I was in a dark headspace.

“One day, my advanced chemistry professor shared the basic formula for homemade explosives. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was obsessed. Night and day, my thoughts were consumed by the idea of ending the Temple just to stop having to think about it all the time. I never told Idise the real reason why we needed to stop; I told her it was just not feasible to continue, and I shut it down. She was never satisfied with my reasoning. But I shut it down, and eventually I graduated, I got my job, postgrad—wouldn’t have been able to safely learn all the delicate parts of the body if all I did was think about how I could use that knowledge to break the person who broke me.”

His eyes flickered, first to her, and then away as a cloud of shame settled over his head. 

Fuck. Osha remembered similar states of obsessive, all-consuming despair. In the years following her injury, she remained in a floating, numb state of hopelessness. Very often and very easily, her mind would spiral into dark places she couldn’t claw her way out of, though most of her maladaptive daydreaming ended in a grave with her own name on it.

She empathized with him; she wouldn’t have wanted to continue either. Forgetting, remembering. They’re different pains that make you wish you had the other.

“But, eventually, the pain wasn’t all I had. Idise is a seeker. She’s a bloodhound, and she is fantastic at what she does. She saw that I had things… missing. She’d already found Paul, Kana, and Medora for me. She didn’t find it, but she was part of Unknown Planet, and brought me into the fold there. She’d found an outlet for the anger that was still there no matter how much I denied it. I owe her my life, a hundred times over. It’s hard to be friends or friendly with someone like that, but we’re close. It feels like fate brought us together, and now fate won’t let us part.”

It felt fucking cheap to ask, but Osha did anyway. “A lot of people at Unplan think you two were… involved. Were you?”

He startled at the question, his face incredulous. “Absolutely not.”

That seems a bit of an overreaction. “Uh, is there a reason why not?”

“Aside from the fact I’m very much not her type, we know each other too well, have been together through too much for me to feel anything but that bond. There’s no way I could be vulnerable around her like I can be with you. You’ve met her. She’s fucking intense.”

He wasn’t wrong. “Intense is a word for it,” she agreed, trying not to let her fluttering heart get the best of her. “But why do you think she was at the Temple?”

“What was said?” That wasn’t an answer.

Still, Osha relayed what she remembered about that day, and then halted when she realized another crucial piece of information she was leaving out.

“What is it?” he said, fingers laced beneath his chin. He’d been frowning through her story, deep in thought.

Why can’t we go back to dry humping in his bed?

“I’m… she also uh. Kinda cornered me at Unplan when I was working out later that week. She must’ve known I’d thought the worst of the situation and wanted to… I don’t know, clear the air.”

But Qimir’s expression had gone thunderous and dark. Rage simmered on his features like he was made of boiling magma. He was pissed. He held none of that anger for the violation toward his own privacy, but when it came to Osha, his temper flared like the goddamn sun.

“And what else did she say?” he asked, his voice gone tight. This wasn’t protectiveness over her, she realized. Why is he so angry? What the fuck happened between them?

“She asked me if I knew where you were. I didn’t tell her anything, of course. And then she said Vernestra didn’t want to hire her to follow you again.”

His throat bobbed, words swallowed down.

“What?” Osha said. “What aren’t you saying?”

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. The anger wasn’t so much boiling as it was now simmering, cooled off enough for him to form logical thoughts. “If she’s not following me, who else do you think she would want Idise tailing?”

“What—?”

He reached for her hand, squeezing once. “Who else at the Temple has been mistreated, injured, erased, overworked, and brought down enough to have one hell of a motive to tear it all down?”

Oh.

Fuck.

“Yeah, fuck,” he said.

Just like that, the perfect morning they’d started with had been balanced back to a net zero.

Q: Leave Osha out of this.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I was wondering why I couldn’t text you.

UN: You break that phone on purpose too?

Q: She’s not a part of it, no matter what you’re doing.

UN: If she’s involved with you, she has no choice.

UN: What were you doing in Khofar?

UN: Didn’t take you for a cabin-in-the-woods type.

Q: Leave it alone.

UN: No :)

UN: What were you doing in Khofar?

UN: What were you doing in Khofar?

UN: What were you doing in Khofar?

Osha woke up from her afternoon nap, still on day one of limbo. Three days remained before Sol and Mae and the whole Temple returned from Theed. When she checked her phone, there were no new messages, so she suspected Mae hadn’t asked Sol what he wanted to talk to them about just yet.

She didn’t know what to do about Vernestra hiring Idise to keep an eye on her, and Qimir just said he’d handle it. In the context of his story, she didn’t feel too good about that assurance. 

“You’re being fucking stupid, Osha,” she muttered, getting up to get ready for work.

Kana and Medora were there when she arrived. 

Paul, and Kana, and Medora.

Hold on, who the fuck is Paul?

“You alright there, Osha?” Kana asked when Osha hadn’t finished taking off her coat to hang up. She jumped, turning around to hide her embarrassment.

“Sorry! Still waking up a little bit.” She shook her head.

“Been there. Go make yourself a coffee, girl.”

“I think I might,” Osha said, smiling at Medora.

“Did the power go out at your place, too? I’m glad I was already here when it happened.”

The wintertime sometimes messed with the badly-weatherized power grid, knocking out power in parts of the city. Osha had come back from Qimir’s to a bunch of clocks blinking 12:00 and had spent the better part of her afternoon resetting everything.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Pretty lame.”

Kana picked up their conversation again. It warmed her to know they didn’t feel the need to keep secrets from her.

“So the police got involved?”

“Yeah, they wanted to question her but I told them to fuck off.”

“I mean she’s four, don’t they have any better leads than a traumatized toddler?”

“That’s what I told them!”

Osha closed her locker and tied off her apron. She wasn’t trying to hide that she was listening in, but she wasn’t trying to involve herself in their conversation either—no matter how intriguing it sounded. 

Medora seemed to catch onto that, turning to her and bringing her into the conversation herself. “Have I ever told you what my day job is, Osha?”

She shook her head. “I figured you didn’t need one; they tip you so well here.”

Kana barked a laugh. “A flatterer!” he crowed, leaning back in his chair.

Medora just threw him a look before she said, “I’m a youth counselor for the FDO.”

“That’s amazing,” Osha said, smiling warmly.

“I always wanted to help out. I spent all my time in the medical wing of the building growing up. Asked a billion questions of all the doctors there.”

She sounded like Mae, constantly asking questions and endlessly curious. At the end of the day, she was kind, thankful, and caring.

“So you always knew you wanted to be a doctor?”

“Pretty much,” she said, shrugging.

“Medora’s being humble for no reason, she got her doctorate same year as Q. They were neck and neck for summa and magna cum laude their whole last year.” Kana sounded so proud, lauding his siblings’ accomplishments. 

“It wasn’t a race, you idiot,” Medora grumbled. “I’m still surprised Paul let you go to art school.”

“Yeah, well, Paul knew the fuckin’ apartment needed someone in the humanities, or we’d all starve. Has Q cooked for you, Osha?”

She remembered the smoke alarm interruption from earlier that morning. “He’s… tried to.”

Kana laughed again, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. “Imagine a house of four grown adults, and three of them have Q’s cooking skills.”

“Who’s, um.” Her mouth went dry the moment before she could say—

“Paul?” Medora said, her voice pitched high. “What the shit, Q doesn’t talk about Paul? Does he talk to you at all? Or does he do that brooding thing the whole time?” She did an (accurate) impression of her brother’s raincloud demeanor.

“We talk,” Osha said, stepping in to defend Qimir. “He’s kind of tight-lipped about some things from his past, but he’s told me quite a bit.” Obviously not enough.

“Well, you know his spine issues as a kid,” Kana said. “Paul ran the pediatric spine clinic Q got treated at. Did the surgeries himself when he—” The sharp cutoff, combined with the grimace, said when he broke his back at 17.

Osha nodded, signaling that he didn’t have to rehash it. “You still keep in touch?”

“Idise managed to track him down after the clinic mysteriously shuttered,” Medora said, playing with the end of her braid. The mention of Idise still brought a sick little twist to her stomach, but Osha was learning to accept that embarrassment and move on. “Q was with him a few months by then, recovering from that horrible car accident. Then she found Kana, and I was just about to age out of the FDO when she found me. She brought us all back together again, after everything.”

“That’s—that’s really great,” Osha said. Car accident. They either didn’t know the Hutts had messed him up and left him for dead, or they didn’t know that Osha knew the real story.

Her awkwardness was overshadowed by fraternal teasing. “Ooo, when she found you, so romantic, Medora.”

Her face flushed a little pink, and she scowled at Kana across the breakroom table. “Shut up.”

Kana checked the clock after antagonizing her with another teasing grin. “Moonrise is in five. Let’s lock in.”

“Got it.”

So Medora absolutely had a crush on Idise. It made sense why Qimir was so adamant that he was never with Idise like that. But if Kana was aware of Medora’s crush on Idise, why would he tell Osha otherwise? The thoughts followed her through her shift, but there were enough things to do at the bar that her daydreams only skimmed the surface of those quandaries—though that surface was obviously still distressing.

“You look grouchy,” Kana commented two hours into their shift. She hadn’t been avoiding him, but the question of his false implication about Qimir and Idise had her wondering what he had to gain from it. “S’on your mind?”

Osha winced, wiping down the same section of the bar as she’d done for the last twenty minutes. It was slow tonight. Had everyone in the city gone to Theed with the Temple?

“Why did you—” Osha cut herself off, turning back from where her body had started moving to face him. She faced away.

“Why’d I what?” he asked, moving to her peripherals.

“It’s uh, nothing.”

“Let’s take a break.”

She heard the order for what it was.

They grabbed their jackets and went to the back parking lot. Osha’s heart pounded, wondering what he would say to her. Kana was her boyfriend’s brother but also her boss. And here she was thinking that things couldn’t possibly be weirder than when Mae was on shift with her at the cafe.

Kana lit a cigarette and offered one to her. She accepted it impulsively.

“You seem overwhelmed,” he said, lighting one off the other.

“I am overwhelmed,” Osha said, all her breath leaving her in a whoosh. She fidgeted with her sleeves until she could take a drag.

She’d smoked a little in high school, out of sheer stress and the lack of anything better to do. Cal had thought she was so cool, smoking behind the school auditorium. She’d kissed him so he could know what it tasted like, but he’d coughed so hard he almost puked, then sweetly asked to try again. That was near the last time she smoked—because smoking led to Cal’s interest, which led to Cal’s kissing, which led to Sol almost pounding a 17-year-old’s face in. 

Osha was a touch out of practice, but smoking came back to her as easy as fighting.

“Qimir is an enigma. I wasn’t lying to you when I said he’s lonely and prefers it like that.”

So he knew what she was stressing about. “Were you… testing me? That night?”

He shrugged. “Suppose I was. Medora’ll give you the official shovel talk when the time comes, but you can’t blame me for looking out for my brother.”

She doubted Mae would risk giving Qimir the shovel talk. She didn’t even want to think about Sol meeting him—though, history proves they already know one another.

“That’s fair,” she said, looking out at the dark lot. “How’d I do on your test?” she asked. She hoped she didn’t sound bitter, but her emotions had been out of wack since she arrived.

“I certainly wouldn’t have put you on my shoulders if you failed,” he said dryly. She finally realized what was so uncanny about this conversation. He sounded different from how he’d spoken indoors—he wasn’t running his words together or using that city drawl Osha never got the hang of. Compared to how he was speaking to her now, the voice he used inside was closer to Qimir’s doofus accent.

They really were brothers.

It made Osha laugh—too late to be laughing at his remark. “What?” said Kana.

She shook her head, smiling. “I’m just glad I know you all.”

It put him at ease, a fond smile taking over his face. They smoked in silence for a minute—until the lamps above them suddenly powered down, dimming almost to total darkness before clawing their way back to illumination.

Damn it. She’d just reset the appliances.

Kana didn’t seem too worried about it, continuing their conversation as if nothing had happened.

“I know Qimir would never say as much, but Paul’s absolutely his dad—and Qimir’s Paul’s son. Me and Paul, we don’t got that kind of relationship. We’re tight, and he’s family, but he’s not my dad like he’s been for Qimir and Medora.”

“Did he encourage them to pursue medicine?”

“That’s a way to put it,” he said, chuckling. “I’d say he was the damn reason for it.”

“That’s cute,” Osha said, smiling. The anxiety in her chest seemed to float away with every drag on her cigarette. “My dad’s…” Oh shit. She’d walked herself into this corner. She didn’t want Kana looking at her how Qimir had looked at her after that welterweight comment. She settled on, “Weird.”

“Weird?” Kana laughed. “Weird how?”

Weird how Sol seems deeply involved in this whole fucking mess. Weird how Sol seems way too okay letting the Temple hang albatross after albatross around his neck. Weird how he fucking passes out on my couch on my birthday because he doesn’t know when things have gone too far. Weird how he insists on family dinners but never lets us act like a family. Weird how Qimir clearly hates him but never talks about it. Weird how Sol had a framed photo of him in the room full of memories he didn’t care to dwell on.

“Just… weird. He adopted me and my sister hella fast after our—well, after we lost our family. And it’s been seventeen years, but he still hasn’t gotten the hang of fatherhood. Family dinners with him are really awkward.”

Kana didn’t pry, picking up on Osha’s discomfort. “Well, we all usually get together once every few weeks just to hang out at Paul’s place. Just to shoot the shit, take walks together. I think you’d like it. Paul’s a good guy. I hope you meet him soon.” I hope Qimir invites you soon, he was saying.

It sounded so nice—but Qimir had never mentioned Paul in the first place. There was so much Osha had no idea about. Qimir’s life was still unfolding in front of her—like a map that started out as small as her palm but folded out to the size of a beach towel. She’d been fairly adamant about her position on deception, especially where omitted information was concerned. Even so, each new answer only brought twice as many questions. It was so difficult to keep up with.

And eventually, it’d catch up with her, a warning voice intoned in her head.

But she stayed in the moment. “I’d like that, too. He sounds nice,” she said. 

Kana put out his cigarette and tossed it in the metal receptacle by the door.

“Does Qimir join every time?” she asked, doing the same.

Kana’s hand stilled on the handle of the service door. He looked over his shoulder at her, just the glint of his eye shining in the shadows.

“Not for the last three months.”

O: [IMG_9322.HEIC]

?: Is your shift over?

?: You look beautiful.

O: Yeah I’m omw home now

O: All the damn lights are reset ugh

Osha got a wicked impulse.

O: Wanna come over?

She forced herself not to look at her phone for the entire drive back to the apartment, equal parts nervous and excited for whatever his answer might be. When she parked, she finally checked her phone—

The knock on her window made her scream.

After a few adrenaline-fueled seconds, she finally recognized Qimir’s bewildered face through the glass. “What the fuck!” she laughed, near about to pass out.

“Sorry,” he said, muffled through the glass.

She finally looked at the text.

?: Yes I’ll be there when you park.

Sent ten minutes ago.

She got out of the car, fueled by the urge to slap him silly and kiss him just the same. The second urge won, her hand twining in the scarf around his neck and pulling him down to her. She kissed him right there with her car door between their bodies, remnants of her fright still racing through her veins.

He pulled away, humming and happily content. Then he stopped, frowning. “Were you smoking with Kana?”

“Howwww the hell do you know that?”

“You taste like his cigarettes,” he said. It felt ridiculous to imagine him jealous—

Oh.

He was jealous.

“I can go brush my teeth,” she said lamely, basically gawping up at him. Maybe wash my mouth out, maybe get punished over a knee—now that’s a thought—

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, gathering his composure again.

Before it could settle, before logic could win, she rattled the bars that kept the beast in him locked away. Osha stood on tip-toes, moving her hand from his scarf to his hair to pull him down again. If her nails slightly pressing into his scalp bothered him, the low, pleased growl he gave in return didn’t say so.

Qimir’s hands went to her shoulders, maneuvering her around the side of her car door so he could kiss her up against the freezing surface. She squeaked at the sudden cold against her back, but he didn’t care. He was ravenous, kissing and licking into her mouth like he wanted to erase any claim left by someone else. Like he’d go so far as breathing against every inch of her skin that was stained with phantom tobacco so she wore the scent of anybody but him.

For fuck’s sake, Kana was his brother. Why did it turn her on so much to think he was acting this way because Kana gave her a cigarette?

She didn’t give a shit, taking as much as he gave her. She was slightly stunned when he pulled back, fixing her with a sharp glare.

“Smoking is very bad for you.”

Then he resumed, lips trailing down to her jaw, her neck, that soft spot behind her ear that made her shiver when he ran his tongue over it. Osha’s breathy laugh sounded so ridiculously wanton in response to his chiding. She kept her hand in his hair as he worried his teeth over her sensitive skin. He must have reached where she’d sprayed a bit of perfume earlier, because his low moan made her insides go to jelly and her knees threaten to buckle.

“M-maybe we can go inside?” she asked, sounding weak to her own ears. Round two, yes please.

He found a place to pause; lips still formed around her pulse—all he’d need to do is bare his teeth, and he’d be that wolf again, demanding submission.

Maybe it’s about time I bare my neck for him, too…

“Inside,” he agreed.

Qimir walked a half-step behind Osha, one hand perched at the small of her back. She looked down into her bag to search for her keys, cursing under her breath as she rummaged.

There was a sudden yank at her belt loop, tugging her two swift steps to the right—to avoid walking into a neighbor passing them in the hall. The neighbor ignored them, just as wrapped up in their world as Osha was, but Osha turned her surprised look up to Qimir, who released her and re-settled his hand at the small of her back. He just shrugged, a smug smirk threatening to surface on his lips.

She finally found her goddamn keys, but then spent another few seconds trying to decipher which one meant open door.

That hand at the small of her back smoothed its way to her hip, another joining at the other side as he stood behind her. Her ability to concentrate took another horrific blow—practically at death’s door, and all his fault.

“I like these jeans,” he said conversationally, as if he was talking about some medical journal he’d read recently. “You make them look nice.”

She wasn’t sure that was how clothing-based flattery was usually structured. She didn’t respond, eliminating key by key by—

Another yank at her belt loops, this time pulling her back into him. Her hips made contact with his, and she jolted a little when she realized he was hard behind her. Holy shit holy shit key gods, please—

There.

The door swung open, and they stole inside like bandits. She would have thought he would want to continue that next logical step (so logical. The most fucking logical thing ever) from what he’d started on the doormat, but his eyes suddenly filled with curiosity that stopped all ardor in its tracks.

He was in her apartment.

The revelation struck her just seconds after it did him. She felt giddy with it. “You ever see the other floorplans here?” she asked, awkwardly making a show at playing host to him.

“There’s more rooms in this one,” he said, both truthfully and sarcastically.

“Your powers of observation are stunning, Coach Lo.”

He leveled an I’m not playing, you’re gonna get it if you push me look at her, one she responded to with a coquettish smile. They removed their shoes and she turned on a few lights to point out the obvious: kitchen, living room, bathroom.  She scowled at the blinking 12:00 on the stovetop in the kitchen.

“That’s Mae’s room over there, and—”

MYAHHHH???

“You haven’t met my other roommate,” Osha said, rushing to the cat tree in the corner. She scooped up the cute ball of fur in her hands and returned to Qimir, who was still taking in the living room—more specifically, he was looking at the bookshelf, pulling out random books to peer at in the light. When Osha approached, he gave her his attention. “This is Pip. Pip, this is my stranger.”

He sighed deeply. “Fuck you for holding something cute while saying that.” He sounded actually tormented by it—I am so oppressed, my girlfriend is using her kitten as a shield against my horny nature.

Osha loved pushing his buttons.

Pip seemed to like Qimir, using his sharp kitten claws to traverse the sleeve of his black denim jacket up to his absurdly broad shoulders. Osha could have died at the image of Qimir’s surprised face when Pip came and bumped his cold little nose against his jaw.

Then Pip descended down the back of his jacket, his claws making little tiny scratch noises. “Oh no—” Osha said, stepping in to help.

Pip had lodged himself right in the center of Qimir’s shoulder blades, where even his long arms couldn’t reach him. He grunted as he tried to get Pip back to safety, and Osha just started to laugh—though it was well past quiet hours in her building. Pip made a series of feline battle cries, hanging onto his conquered jacket with imperious greed.

“Oh my god, this is insane,” Osha laughed, finally prising her cat off of his jacket. “You naughty boy!” she declared, kissing the top of his head. “Good job, Pip.”

Qimir took the opportunity to remove his jacket, laying it over the back of her couch like it belonged there. She finally understood why he reacted so intensely to her wearing his clothes—this was another sign of his possessive nature. Staking his claim, leaving his things about, touching her books.

With intent to sleep in her bed.

It was a queen, and with his size, it’d be a tight fit.

I bet he likes a tight f—

To sleep. They would be sleeping.

Wait, was lewdness on the table? Could she ask for lewdness?

“Are you hungry?” she asked, covering her bases before they slept.

He shook his head, but something in his eyes told her otherwise.

Osha ensured Pip was cared for, sleeping soundly in his bed, before she took Qimir’s hand and led him to her bedroom.

He hadn’t said much since they walked in, keeping all his observations to himself. Even here, he took his time to take her room in.

Qimir lived quite the spartan life, hardly keeping any personal effects in his home, his car—hell, the most clutter she’d seen was in his office, but that seemed like the exception to his rules. Osha hadn’t been joking that first time she met him in his office; her room was chaotic but it was her.

She tried looking at her room from his perspective. The bed looked perpetually unmade, the comforter hopelessly tangled within the confines of the duvet cover. Her desk hadn’t been used since high school, and currently housed her very tiny, very new makeup collection. The desk chair had instead become a chair closet, holding a pile of laundry—oh fuck, was that one of her bras?

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

But he wasn’t looking at the lacy bundle that may or may not have been a bra—his eyes were on the windowsill, one hand reaching for the small purple butterfly—

“Don’t,” she implored, not really sure why. He’d freely touched plenty of things in her apartment until now—herself included—but the little crystal figurine seemed too precious for her to share with him tonight. “Please,” she added, though they were sure she didn’t want to say it.

Qimir retracted his hand, watching Osha now as if she were the new object of his interest. “It’s beautiful,” he said, not looking at it.

“I sometimes forget it’s there,” she said.

“It was the first thing I saw. It caught the moonlight just right.”

She hadn’t ever looked at it in the moonlight before. In the dark moments before sleep, she could never bear to look at it, lest it invite nightmares of her last moments with her mothers.

But he was right; it sparkled and glittered the way it had that day in the shop. The cool moonlight made the purple seem regal, faceted reflections and refractions cast upon the windowsill like bold splashes of light.

She said nothing more, holding out her hand for him to come closer.

Wanna come over? she’d asked him. She wished she’d been more specific, because now that he was here, she had no clue what to do with him.

He seemed to have his own ideas, though.

He stepped into her space, one hand on her hip and the other coming to tilt her face up to his. But he didn’t kiss her; not just yet. He came close, looking her over with a face of yearning intensity she was becoming familiar with.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

She didn’t shy from the compliment; she didn’t want to run from this, run from him and all his feelings. If she was allowed to feel as deeply for him as she did, then she wanted him to feel the same. And she’d never know it if she kept running from every declaration he made to her.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

Qimir smiled like he knew the amount of growth and healed self-esteem it had taken to reach this point. He rewarded her with a kiss, just a simple lean and they were one.

Osha closed her eyes and fell against him, arms wrapping around the back of his neck. His hands grasped her close, like he dared any other to separate them. Their kiss wasn’t feverish, but the heat rolled like a campfire, an eternal flame to keep them warm in this lonely, dark winter.

Especially when the goddamn power went out—and didn’t seem to come back on after the usual fifteen seconds.

They didn’t move apart, quietly laughing at the absurdity. “All fuckin’ day,” she giggled.

“Well, I guess that means it’s lights out,” he said, teasing.

She shoved her palm against his shoulder playfully. “I’m not sleepy, are you?”

Instead of answering, he simply kissed his way down her neck, humming as if in thought. “Hungry.”

She blinked in the dark, even as stars danced before her eyes at every little zing of feeling he gave her. “I just asked you if—”

“Not for that,” he interrupted, on the wings of soft, dark laughter.

Oh fuck.

His teeth joined the distracting mix, dragging down to where her shirt lay open at the front. “You’re hungry?” she asked, voice going a bit high. Her inexperience had to have shown sometime—why not now?

But he didn’t withdraw. He was offering her something, something he knew was new to her. He nodded, smooth and comfortable just doing what he was doing—but she knew that a single word from her would have him going full bodice-ripper romance hero.

At least, she hoped so.

She moaned softly as his lips wrapped around the delicate line of her collarbone, indulgent like he was savoring her. She buried her fingers in his hair and was rewarded with a hot, sudden exhale through his nose. But he still didn’t bend. A hand in the hair won’t do it, Osha.

She tried pushing her hand up under his shirt, splaying across his toned stomach. But it didn’t make him snap. Touching isn’t consent, Osha, her logical brain reminded her.

“Well, I’m more than happy to feed you if you’re hungry,” she said, a little breathless as she pulled on his hair. She chewed her lip, hoping he understood her correctly.

Even in the pitch darkness, she could tell just how dark his eyes had gotten. Qimir’s face was open with want, not a single ounce of desire shuttered behind his expression. “Alright,” he breathed, and then moved.

He had her lying across her bed in under a second; his body pressed atop hers like he’d done that morning and kept her pinned in place. Her belated gasp came against his lips as he claimed hers in another kiss. This time, he didn’t straddle her, keeping his body angled slightly to the side of her, curling around her supine form.

His hand mimicked what hers had done just a moment ago, splaying across her lower tummy beneath the edge of her shirt. She was still mostly in her work clothes, save her shoes. His hand spanned so wide, his thumb and pinky touching both her hipbones simultaneously. She always felt so small when he did this, truly feeling their size difference.

But then his hand moved, pushing up, up—teasing right at the edge of her bra before it moved back down, pressing gently on every rib his fingertips passed. She groaned, half in frustration and half at how good his touch felt. She must have been starved for it before to react this much to his touches. That had to be it—she couldn’t have been responding just to him.

On the downward pass, he skimmed over the waistband of her work pants, fingertips brushing over the seam at the middle. “I can feel you; you’re so hot for me, Osha,” he murmured. “Will you be wet if I touch you right now?”

She could only whine, overwhelmed by his attentions. When his hand moved to cover the entire area, she repeated the noise, this time raising her hips needily. He moved his hand up and down over her, and yes, yes she’d be wet if he touched her.

“I guess I’ll have to find out, won’t I?” he chuckled. Deftly, he undid the button and fly of her work pants and let them stay like that. His mouth kept up a steady stream of commentary in her ear as he touched her.

“You’ve probably got the prettiest pair of panties on for me—and just absolutely ruined them, haven’t you?” he said, lips brushing her ear softly enough to make her shiver. “There’s nothing like soaked lace over a hot, wet pussy—love to see you like that someday, pretty girl.”

Osha’s moan seemed obscenely loud in contrast to the quiet room, the soft murmurs he was giving her.

“Good girl, telling me how she feels.” He kissed her cheek so gently and chastely that right now, it seemed filthy. “Wanna hear every noise you make from her on out. Don’t you dare hide them from me.” His fingertips brushed over her clit, through her soaked panties—making her gasp. “That’s right, that’s for me.”

For a while, he just rubbed her over her panties, nearly to the point where she was sure he wasn’t going to move past that—but then his hand drew back and then he was pushing beneath them, trapped under that wet cotton he’d only gotten wetter. She moaned helplessly at the feeling of his direct touch on her pussy—how long had it been since she last touched herself not to the thought of him? This was so, so much better.

His rough fingertips spun tight little circles over her clit, occasionally dipping down to where she was wettest to slick the way. His tongue matched what his fingers were doing—drawing wet little spirals that left a cool trail in its wake. It made her shiver and sweat all at once. He would never push them in, though, always just dipping his fingertips in—like a penitent man crossing himself with wetted fingers from a cathedral font.

She grew impatient, bringing her hands down to shove at her bottoms. The elastic snapped against her as it crested the ridge of his knuckles, but she didn’t give a fuck. Her hands went next to her work shirt, unbuttoning the front with fingers that trembled in their eagerness.

He moaned her name at the sight of her undressing for him, though his hand remained where it had been, stilled for now. When she sat up to remove her bra, he sucked in a breath but didn’t stop her. All she knew, in the spinning room that was her mind, was that she needed no clothes and more him.

At the revealed skin, he marveled, expression awed as he beheld her as some kind of sacrament. It should have intimidated her to be so clearly regarded as a holy thing. But Osha was used to being worshiped, even 17 years out of practice.

One thing she knew about worshipers was that they would kneel.

Her hand found his hair, and with ease, she pushed him toward the edge of the bed, pushed him down, pushed him into place between her thighs. She knew this much, at least. He finally looked like how he’d teased—hungry. No, starving.

Then she pulled him back to her.

His lips never once stopped moving, whetting their thirst by wetting them with her. She moaned, low and long as he hauled her legs up over his shoulders. Just barely, she could make out the feeling of the scar on his back beneath her heel. With how hunched over he was as he ate her out, she needed only to lift her head a few inches off the bed to see it. His tongue pushed into her, then out—not testing the waters or stretching, but consuming. She swore softly under her breath and shifted her hips up a little for him to go deeper, to take more.

She wasn’t freaking out how she thought she would. For years and years, thinking about some faceless, imaginary partner would inspire all kinds of anxiety in her. But now, with her stranger here, none of those worries were even on the same planet. She was relaxed, blissfully relaxed beneath him, above him, wherever he wanted her to be. Her orgasm was ready to step in if she wanted it to come, but for now, the intimacy of Qimir’s head between her thighs was enough to pull a satisfied sigh from her lips.

She felt his lips twitch against her—smiling. Qimir was now taking his time, laving his tongue over every inch he could get at. She could live like this forever, teetering on a thinning platform of pleasure and joyfully falling over the edge whenever she wanted.

His eyes met hers through the darkness, glinting with the moonlight streaming in through the window. She wondered what the look was for a moment before he concentrated his lips to suck at her clit, leaving room for a finger to press gently inside of her. She moaned weakly, the unfamiliar feeling making her head spin even as he held still, letting her get used to him.

Testing how it felt, she bit her lip and squeezed around his finger. All his breath left him in a whistling wheeze, eyes practically rolling back in his head. She did it again, and his other hand disappeared from where it’d rested on her thigh. She didn’t see where it went, but by the rhythmic motions of his shoulder, she could guess what it was up to.

He pressed another kiss to her clit before he added another finger. He was a large man, and his hands were absolutely proportionate to that standard—the stretch was a pleasant burn within her, equal to stepping into a too-hot bath and letting yourself bear the heat until it was tolerable. The burn became tolerable very quickly, with how loose-limbed he’d made her.

“Mm?” he hummed against her clit, letting his lips brush back and forth against it for a moment before resuming his sucking kisses.

“Yes,” she rasped, her voice all but abandoned her. “Yes.”

For so long, she’d been denied what she wanted, been second-guessed to the point of defeating herself, been forgotten and pushed aside by those she cared for. Qimir knelt before her as the antithesis to her very negative expectations. He encouraged her to not only want but ask, and take. Experimentally, she tightened her fingers in his hair and pulled her back up to her mouth. He moved with grace, his fingers still pushing in and dragging out of her with the same steady rhythm that was rattling her composure with aplomb. In the absence of his mouth, his thumb took up the mantle, rubbing tight little circles in time with the rest of his hand.

His bare chest pressed against her—when had he taken his goddamn shirt off?—and near his hips, something incredibly hot and wet touched her bare thigh. She was too busy kissing him to look down at him, too busy tasting herself on his lips to care.

Tension thrummed beneath his skin, as if his bones were made of struck tuning forks. She wasn’t certain of the reason, but she guessed it had something in common with his pouty face when she pulled him away from the meal he was making of her.

“Fuck, Osha,” he said, his pitch all over the place as he balanced on the tightrope of self-control. He rested his forehead against hers, meeting her eyes just like that morning. “Can I make you come like this?” he asked breathlessly, his fingers curling a little, searching for—

“Ah! Fuck, please, there, please,” she whined, practically squirming beside him.

“So beautiful when you come, can’t wait to see it again,” he said, his movements speeding up only minimally as he sought to abuse the angle that had her crying out for him. “C’mon, baby, wanna feel you. Wanna taste you all fucking day, stay down there for the rest of my fucking life if you wanted me to.”

She almost laughed, for she’d been thinking nearly the same thing. But she couldn’t laugh, not when he was moving just like that and she swore the power was coming back on with how bright the stars flared in her eyes. She garbled out half his name, the syllables sounding foreign on her tongue. “Wanna come,” she whined.

“I know, baby, I know.” His voice took on a deeper edge, dark and sharp like obsidian. “I wanna make you come, too, wanna know this pussy so well you don’t have a goddamn choice but to come when I want you to.” The words blazed through her every vein like a wildfire, all-consuming and inevitable. “Get you to come on my tongue, too, so only I get every fucking drop of you. I’ll never share you. Never.”

“Mine,” she breathed. She felt that whole-body lurching sensation that typically preceded her more devastating orgasms. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he vowed to her. “Only yours.” He kissed her, hot and filthy and fucking delicious.

She whined, her muscles tensing around his fingers to tease at what’s soon to come.

“That’s it, baby. C’mon—oh, fuck,” he groaned as her back arched off the bed towards him. He brought his mouth down to suck at her breasts, tonguing at her nipple between declarations. “Attagirl, that’s my girl, good fucking girl, come for me so pretty.”

She was pretty sure she had shed a few goddamn tears, between all the praise and the overwhelming orgasm he gave to her. This, too, was another language of him to learn. She wanted more. She wanted to be fluent in his desire, too. She kissed him back as best she could, though it was all very messy and wet and unrefined. Her ears were ringing, and she couldn’t fucking move even as he carefully withdrew his fingers from her. She could only watch as he brought them to his lips, first licking the pad of his thumb, and then sucking his two gleaming, wet fingers into his mouth.

And then there was his other hand, moving over his cock in harsh, quick motions. His self-pleasure looked almost violent, and even in her post-orgasm haze, she found herself flushing even hotter at the obscenity of it all. He’d gone from sacred to profane in an instant, a heathen wildman seeking to—

A groan wrenched its way from his throat, declared to the air a moment before hot splashes of his come striped over her belly, even up to her breasts. She felt marked, claimed for him alone. She reveled in the feeling, depraved as it was. She moaned for him, tugging him into relaxation once he finished coming and only shook in place, the aftershocks hitting him hard.

She kissed all over his face, just babbling whatever came to mind. “Fuck, you’re so good, Qimir. So good to me, I love—I loved watching you come,” she whispered, her words coming quicker after her little blunder. With any luck, he didn’t catch the slip-up.

He melted against her side, their slightly sweaty bodies curling together in peace. He said nothing, more contented to simply lay beside her and melt into the coverlet while she all but vibrated with energy. His hand lay limp against her thigh, curled slightly as if to protect her clean skin from the mess on his palms.

She kissed his forehead and got up for them, navigating through her pitch-black apartment with ease of familiarity so she could wet a washcloth and return to him. He hadn’t moved except to roll over on his back, stretched out across the bed.

Yeah, he’s definitely not going to get any personal space in this bed if I have anything to say about it.

He made a noise as she started to clean herself up in the moonlight. He frowned, moving to take the cloth from her and do it for her, but she shook her head. “I’m okay, you just relax.”

He still pouted, but did as she told him to. The small thrill of power whenever that happened always took her off-guard, but she didn’t mind.

She cleaned off her thighs and pussy first before wiping his come off of her belly.

“Did I miss anything?” she asked once she was pretty sure she got all of it.

He shook his head, still mute—but not concerningly so.

Osha stepped closer, acclimated to the darkness enough to see him. She folded the cloth into a clean square and knelt by his side, very gently wiping down his face while he stayed obediently still for her. She followed with his hands, then his own belly, and when it came to the rest—

He took the cloth from her then, thank god.

She pulled on some sleep clothes for herself, and only after she had did he roll into motion, slinking to the floor beside her. He would sprinkle many kisses against her shoulder between stretches, and thank goodness for her sleepiness, because she would have been giggling and tittering at each one otherwise.

If they didn’t whisper goodnight, then that was their secret.

Osha shouldn’t have been doing this shit again.

The first time was bad enough, with Mae just ten feet away in the shower as Osha went through her phone. This time was worse, going through Qimir’s phone while he figured out lunch.

“Can I give Pip some turkey?” he called to her. She nearly fumbled his phone onto the floor.

“Yeah, but not too much! Not even if he asks nicely.”

She wasn’t sweating as she scrolled through his texts, but it was a near enough thing. Seriously, does he save any numbers besides mine?

And then one caught her eye.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: What were you doing in Khofar?

A quick peek at the thread made Osha 99% certain that this was Idise. So she put the number in her phone and waited until he was gone to send a single text.

O: I think we need to talk. You said there were things I should know, and I want to know them.

Idise responded with a place and time.

CHAPTER 20