#Just been staring at these 2 for the better part of the day

[zeroseuniverse]

please give haneul's dad a love life 😔🙏 he's miserable, I can hear him sighing all day and night and I don't even live nearby. please help a young nurse be well fed with fluffy warm pancakes in the morning 🥹🥞

please make a silly old anonymous reader happy by writing a part 2 of "My Dad is Single!" ☝️

You ask and you shall receive my darling Asks are my number 1 priority so I typically try to only take 2-3 days in writing them, I enjoy providing what my readers want so I hope this came out in a timely manner for you!

My Dad Is Single II

S.Coups had no idea how he ended up here.

One moment, he was just a devoted single dad trying to survive his six-year-old's chaotic antics. The next, he was standing in his kitchen, flipping pancakes while Nurse Pretty—sat at his dining table, chatting with Haneul like they were old friends.

Haneul had orchestrated this whole thing, obviously. After her legendary text message, she had laughed it off but agreed to come over—"just for pancakes," she had said. But from the way she kept smiling at him over her coffee, he knew she was enjoying his flustered state way too much.

"So, Haneul," she said, resting her chin on her hand. "Tell me—why are you so determined to find your dad a girlfriend?"

Haneul sighed dramatically, like this was a burden only she could bear. "Because Appa is so lonely."

S.Coups groaned from the stove. "I am not—"

"He sighs all the time," Haneul interrupted. "Like, so much. And he watches sad movies at night."

She smirked. "Ah, the sighing. You told me about that before."

"Right?!" Haneul threw her hands up. "It’s a problem."

S.Coups turned around, pointing a spatula at his daughter. "You’re making me sound like a tragic drama lead."

"You are a tragic drama lead," Haneul said, dead serious. "But don’t worry! This is the episode where you find love again."

She burst out laughing while S.Coups slumped against the counter, defeated.

"Unbelievable," he muttered for what felt like the hundredth time.

"You say that a lot," She teased, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Because this keeps happening!" He gestured at Haneul, who was happily munching on a pancake like she hadn’t just thrown him under the bus.

She just smiled. "Well, I have to admit—this is probably the most unique way I’ve ever been asked out."

S.Coups nearly dropped the plate he was holding. "Wait—was this… an ask out?"

she tilted her head, pretending to think. "Well, I was invited to your house. You cooked for me. There’s a cute child who’s very invested in our future. Sounds like a date to me."

S.Coups blinked, completely thrown. "I—uh—what—"

Haneul leaned forward and stage-whispered to her , "He’s shy."

she grinned. "It’s cute."

S.Coups groaned again. "I am not shy!"

"You’re blushing," Haneul pointed out.

He pressed a hand to his face. Oh my God, I am.

She reached for a pancake, her smile softening. "Relax, S.Coups. I’m just teasing. But… I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. If that’s something you’d be open to."

S.Coups stared at her, completely caught off guard. He hadn’t expected this. At all. And yet, with Haneul beaming up at him and her looking at him with those warm, patient eyes, he found himself… considering it.

Slowly, a small smile crept onto his face. "I guess… I wouldn’t mind either."

Haneul exploded into cheers, nearly knocking over her juice. "YES! Finally!"

she laughed, and S.Coups couldn’t help but chuckle too, shaking his head.

"Unbelievable," he muttered one last time—but this time, it felt different. Lighter. Like maybe, just maybe, his little drama lead moment was turning into a rom-com after all.

[marauder-misprint]

I loved Nail polish & cologne, you are such an amazing writer! It's been so long since I read a decent version of Moony in a fic. You made me incredibly happy today 🫣

Sorry if it's rude to ask, any chance you could make a sequel?

Omg, I don't find it rude at all to ask for sequels/more parts to any of my writing! It's one of the highest compliments in my opinion! So, thank you 🥰

Also tagging everyone who asked for a part 2 in the replies/comments ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Fresh parchment & perfume

Remus Lupin x reader

part one

2.3k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, Y/N, angst if you squint

You want to murder Remus Lupin. 

Okay, not really. But you’re frustrated that he’s taken away one of your simple daily joys: staring at him during class. You’ve been caught staring at him multiple times now and you swear there have been times where he was looking at you first. This never happened before so why is it happening now? 

You come to a conclusion, but you don’t like it. It’s the only thing that makes sense though.

“Lily!” you yell as you enter your dorm and slam the door behind you. “What did you say?”

She looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“About what? To who? When?” she asks, preparing her defense.

“About what I smelled in the Amortentia!”

“You never told me what you smelled,” she says, furrowing her brow. “I mean, I can assume, but you never actually told me. And who would I have told?”

“Oh, I don’t know, James, maybe?”

She laughs. “Potter?” Then she looked down at her hands. “I mean, yeah, we’ve talked a little bit and he doesn’t seem… as bad? But we don’t talk about you.” 

“Oh.” Your voice is small. “Never mind then.”

You collapse on your bed and Lily is sitting at the foot of it within seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I’ve told Potter about your feelings for a certain quiet prefect?” she asks.

You lift your head to glare at her. You’re not in the mood. 

“He’s been looking at me…” you mumble, which causes Lily to fall into a fit of laughter. “Lily!”

“I-I… I’m sorry, but… that’s ridiculous and you know it,” she manages to say in between her laughs. “He’s been looking at you?”

“Yes,” you say firmly. “He’s never looked at me this much before”

You pause as you hide your face in your hands. 

“He must know and he’s trying to figure out how to tell me that he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Or…”

“Or what?”

“Or he’s working up the courage to talk to you?” Lily offers.

“He can talk to me just fine. We’ve studied before. Played Summoner’s Court. Wizards’ chess. We talk.” 

“Okay, yes, you talk. But have you tried flirting with him?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “No… But then why is he just staring at me and not talking to me?” 

“Why have you been staring at him and not flirting with him?” she shoots your question back at you. 

“I don’t need your logic right now,” you groan, rolling over to shove your face into your pillow. 

---

“Has she always stared at me this much?” Remus asks Sirius nervously as they lounge in their dorm. 

James was at quidditch practice and Peter had solo detention. 

“Can’t say I’ve paid much attention to her, Moony. Might be a better question for Prongs.”

“Why’s that?” 

“Because Y/N’s always with Evans? And he stares at her quite often. Come on, mate. Two plus two.” Sirius gives his friend a sympathetic look. “Have you talked to her at all since?”

Remus doesn’t answer, letting the silence answer for him. No, he hadn’t. The amount of times he’s caught you staring at him over the past two days is startling. Each time, you would turn red and look away almost immediately. He hasn’t been able to focus as much in classes, not when he knows you might be looking at him, not when Sirius thinks he might actually have a chance with you. 

“Have you… oh, I don’t know, considered talking to her?”

“Padfoot,” Remus says tiredly. 

“You can’t ask a girl out without words.”

“You would know.” It comes out more as a sigh. 

Remus doesn’t want to admit it, but yes, out of the Marauders, Sirius had the most experience with girls. But whether his “expertise” could actually be trusted was up in the air. He never stayed with a girl for too long and he wasn’t sure if it was his choice or a result of his actions. 

“Yes, I would know. And if she has been staring at you as much as you claim, even if just these past few days, ask. her. out.” 

“What if she’s just been zoning out? You know, when you stare but you’re not really looking?”

“She’s just been zoned out in your direction multiple times a day?”

“Yes.”

Remus knows it sounds ridiculous, and that’s only enforced when Sirius chuckles from the window where he’s smoking. Then he’s standing up and offering Remus one. 

“Stop being so dense,” he says. “And so hard on yourself. I know what that voice in your head is saying.”

Remus takes the cigarette and follows Sirius back to the window.

“And what is it saying?”

“That you’re not worthy of love or attraction, that you’re not attractive. So how could lovely Y/N actually like you when you’re, well, you.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Remus says dryly before taking a drag. 

“Oi, not saying any of that’s true.”

Remus rolls his eyes. 

“Ask. her. out. And you’ll see that you’re wrong.”

The two boys sit on the window ledge for a while, each going through a few cigarettes. Silence fills the room. Sirius is more than content to just let his brain empty while Remus’s mind is running circles around itself.

Was he imagining the blush when he caught you staring? Were you staring because you liked him? Were you just staring into the distance and turning red because you realized you were staring at a person? How often did you stare at him? Was it because of that Potions lesson? What if you were staring near him and not actually at him? Was he being narcissistic to think you looked at him? He sat by Peter, James and Sirius in every class. It was very logical to think that you were staring at one of them. 

“Shit,” Remus mutters.

“What?” Sirius’ voice sounds far away despite being right next to him.

“She’s been staring at you.” 

Sirius laughs.

“No, Pads, think about it. You’ve been next to me every time I’ve caught her staring. It makes so much sense!”

“Moony. You’re delusional,” Sirius says. 

James enters the dorm. Sirius’ eyes light up.

“Prongs, help me out here!” Sirius calls as James throws his bag down on his bed.

“Yeah?” 

“Y/N. Has she been staring at me or Moony in class?” 

“I’m not getting in between you two if you’re fighting over a girl,” James says, laying down on the floor near the window.

“Not fighting over a girl,” Remus says, giving Sirius an annoyed look. “Padfoot just figures you’d know who she stares at, if she’s staring at all, since you, you know, stare at Lily.”

“I do not!” James exclaims as he sits up rapidly.

Sirius laughs, “She’s not in here and we know you do. Don’t lie.” He pauses for a moment to light a new cigarette. “For Moony’s sake, does Y/N stare at him during class?”

James slowly lays back down while giving Sirius a wary look.

“I swear, if I get hexed for answering…”

“Not going to hex you!” Sirius says.

“She stares at Moony. A lot. Think she pays more attention to him than lessons.”

“So she’s gone for you!” Sirius barks, clapping a hand on Remus’ knee and causing him to grimace. “Fucking told you!”

---

You make a serious effort to not look in Remus’ direction during classes. It kills you. It’s been your habit for years and you’re quitting cold turkey. You’re both grateful and mortified that Remus hasn’t called you out for it; he can’t call you out for it if he hasn’t talked to you. 

It doesn’t help that Lily has started gently nudging you every time Remus enters a room or sits remotely near you. She doesn’t have to say anything for you to know what she’s thinking. 

“You’re the first thing he looks at when he enters a room,” she whispers during Transfiguration. 

“Or he’s looking for the Marauders,” you retort just as quietly. 

“Yeah, right,” she says sarcastically. 

Professor McGonagall flashes a harsh look in your direction and the two of you fall silent. You’re thankful that she didn’t call you out, or worse, ask you to share what you were talking about with the class. That would have been mortifying. 

You’ve been successful in your mission to not stare at Remus so far, despite the insatiable urge to do so pulling at your eyes. You swear, the man is magnetic. It doesn’t help that Lily has suddenly become relentless in her nudging and subtle poking.

“What?” you hiss, looking down at your notes.

“He keeps looking this way.” 

You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to McGonagall. While Lily’s words stoked the flame of hope in your heart, you didn’t need to be losing house points for not paying attention. 

When class ended, Lily put her things away at record speed.

“Potter! Wait up!” she calls, leaving you behind.

You frown as you briefly watch her go. You usually walked to your next class together. You knew that she smelled something like James in the Amortentia and that had fueled her new friendship with him. And as much as you liked seeing your friend this happy, you didn’t like that it meant walking to your classes alone. 

Except when you exit the classroom, you aren't alone. Remus is right at your side. You walk in silence for a few paces. It’s not uncomfortable but it’s charged. Despite the other students in the corridor with you, you swear you can hear every step you take. It doesn’t help that you can feel your heart beating in your throat. 

“How’ve you been?” you ask. You keep your face straight, knowing that if you look at Remus, you’ll likely trip, fall and embarrass yourself.

“Oh… I’ve been relatively good.” He pauses momentarily. “James hasn’t shut up about what he smelled in the Amortentia.” 

You try not to laugh. “Lily’s not been too shy about it either. I think she’ll say yes sooner or later.” 

Remus gestures ahead of you to where the two are. “Seems like it.”

Silence falls between you again. You were used to being with Remus in the quiet; that’s how it usually was when you studied in the library together. Except that was different. When you studied, you had your books in front of you and you were both scribbling away, scrawling on  parchment until your inkwells ran out. 

“Did you really smell the library in the Amortentia?” you ask, breaching the silence. You’re not really sure what made you ask, but something inside of you needed to know.

“Erm, yeah. Yeah, I did,” he answers. He’s not looking at you in the same way you’re not looking at him, meaning you’re both trying to gauge the other’s expression in your peripheral vision. “What did you smell? You got pretty quiet after smelling the potion.”

“Oh, um, I smelled… nail polish, chocolate, parchment,” you listed off with a glaring omission. 

Remus let out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. He didn’t want to admit that he was disappointed in your answer. He was hoping you had smelled something more obviously him. It didn’t register in his brain that he was the chocolate and parchment you smelled. 

“That all?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Was the library all you smelled?” you retorted defensively. 

You saw his features tense. 

“Was it?” you repeated, more gentle this time, like talking to a scared child. 

“It was the library. Everything that encompasses my usual visits,” he starts to say as he turns to look at you. “The books, fresh parchment, ink, your perfume.” 

You stop walking. Remus notices immediately, having been watching you and your expression. His heart is racing in his chest. He can’t tell if your reaction is good or bad, based on your wide eyes and sharp intake. You swallow, looking up at the taller, scarred boy next to you.

“My… perfume? You smelled me?” you ask. “You smelled me in the Amortentia?”

Remus flushes with embarrassment. He feels like he should’ve known better than to trust Sirius on this. He was a self-proclaimed ladies’ man afterall. 

Remus nods. He doesn’t know if he trusts his voice, but then he starts rambling.

“I thought… Sirius said you couldn’t look away from me so he said I had a chance, but obviously, if you don’t feel the same way… I don’t want this to change anything between us. I don’t want it to be awkward. I really value our friendship. I’m so sorry if I just ruined it, but I like you. I really do. I have for a while, but I’ll try to stop if it makes you uncomfort-”

“Remus,” you say firmly as you grab his arm. 

He stops talking immediately. His eyes search yours for an answer that he realizes he probably cut off. 

“What do you always carry with you and share with me in the library?” you ask, your voice just as firm.

“Chocolate?” His brows bunch in confusion.

“And what you always, always have a fresh roll of?”

“Parchment?”

“And… I may have smelled one more thing. In the Amortentia.” You took a breath. “Your cologne.”

“My cologne?” he echoes like how you had repeated him earlier. 

You wait for him to connect the dots, pressing your lips together. 

“So you smelled chocolate, parchment and my cologne?”

“Don’t forget nail polish.”

He chuckles. He takes your hand that’s on his arm and holds it in his own. 

“What you’re saying is that I do have a chance? That Sirius was right?” 

“Sirius was right,” you laugh. 

“In that case, would you like to come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“I would love to come to Hogsmeade with you, Remus,” you answered with a smile.

Maybe Sirius does know a thing or two about girls, Remus thinks as he walks with you to your next class. 

Tags: @oursweetmoony, @pinkdaiisies, @iloveremmy, @3sriracha, @auntjezzy

[thesuperiorrobin]

She knew~

pairing: Damian Wayne x Crush!Reader

Warning: Agnsty? Not that much I promise, good ending, maybe, slight swearing? Reader is a bit flirty??? I think there’s a part 2.

There's something about laying in a hospital bed that's so humbling for Damian.

His arm was in a cast and his head was wrapped in bandages. A mission went wrong, that was covered up by a so-called "terrible car accident". Everybody believed it, because why would they believe the truth of Damian taking a bad fall dress up in his Robin uniform? Some of his brothers tease him for what had happened that night, and if he wasn't held back by his position in the hospital he was sure he would have all their heads on a stick by now. His father didn't seem any bit worried about him, that's what Damian thought, after the countless scoldings he's gotten he's sure his father doesn't care.

Damian has spent the last two days in the hospital, on the third day he'll be released. And he can't wait, the smell, the atmosphere the so-called food they serve him-- he can't wait to leave it all behind. But for now, Damian lies on the slightly uncomfortable bed with a book in his good hand. His family hasn't bothered him in a while and he's thankful for that, he's gotten used to soft voices through his room door and soft beeping occasionally that seemed to echo through his hospital room.

There’s a soft knock on the door that catches his attention and he groans—thinking it’s one of his family members coming to visit home again.

Damian prays it’s just a nurse coming to check up on him. He chooses not to answer and after a few seconds the door opens up—the person who steps into his dull white room was not the person he was expecting.

In you go, with a bouquet in your hand dressed in your school uniform.

"Hey" your voice is soft and careful "how are you feeling?"

Damian doesn't answer right away, he pretends to think about his answer before he clears his throat "I feel like I could be doing better at the moment" he places his book down.

"Here, these are for you" you hand him the flowers "I just came to see how you were doing, everybody's worried”

"Only because I'm the son of Bruce Wayne" he murmurs, glaring at you softly—scoffing as he does so.

"That's not true" you frown, He gives you a look "Well Maybe, yeah I guess you're right, but I'm worried Damian. I saw the news and the cars. Damian you could have been killed"

"But I wasn't L/N so there is no need to worry about that anymore"

You let out a sigh as you pull a chair beside him on his bed, It's been a while since you last saw him, two weeks to be precise almost three. Your eyes linger on him for a bit longer. He looks more tired than usual and angry. His hair is messy, with strands of hair spiked up in random directions. Though purple and blue covered his skin from head to toe he still seemed visually breathtaking.

"Did you just come here to just stare at me?" He snaps, and you jump back in your seat, a part of him regrets snapping at you so suddenly, that you clear your throat with a smile.

"Sorry, I'm just used to you being….” You trail off for a moment trying to find the right words to not offend the younger Wayne in his condition. “…so well organized. If I had a penny for every time I've seen you a mess I would have one”

His only response was a hum, and the room was silent between you two. The only sound echoing through the room was the soft voices from outside the room and the beeping of the monitor. “It’s quiet in most of the classes now. Did you know that?”

“How so?”

“Teachers pointed out how quiet the classes are since you’ve gotten stuck in the hospital. We’re known for yapping away in the back of class” You let out a breathy laugh, glancing up at Damian who holds a frown.

“You mean yourself?” Damian raises his brow at you “I normally don’t hold conversations. The teachers were probably talking about you—you do tend to talk a lot”

“Rude” You huff out and a chuckle leaves the injured Wayne's lips, which brings a smile to yours “But I guess you’re right, I don’t have anyone to talk to. You’re usually the only have I have a good laugh within class”

Somehow, your hand finds his. All bandaged and bruised but you don’t mind and Damian says nothing. His green eyes glance down at your face, hoping to meet yours but you keep them focused down at his hand. Despite the thick layer of bandages, he can still feel the warmth of your fingers as they softly glide against his palm.

“I miss complementing your artwork, it’s not the same when I’m looking beside me and see someone else’s artwork”

“You only compliment them when you copy my notes” he hums, “you say it as a thank you when I let you do so”

“Mhm..” you hum “but now, every time I look beside me there’s always a student sleeping with their paper blank”

“Maybe you should start writing your notes….”

“I could…” you trail off, head lifting slightly to meet his eyes. “But what’s the point if I can’t use it as an excuse to talk to you?”

It takes a while for Damian to answer fully. He can feel his skin feel out, and he’s sure you can fill it, too, with a smug smile on your face. He looks away, away from your eyes, as he answers, “True….”

There’s another long silence between you two, a comfortable one and Damian can feel your hand slip away from his—it takes so much in him not to grab ahold of your hand once more. He hears the sudden screech of the chair against the floor, he turns his head—eyes locking in on your form. He wishes you could stay a little longer, your presence is the only thing that doesn’t annoy him as much as others do, and a part of him wants to tell you to stay a bit more but he bites his tongue.

He sees your hand hover over the doorknob, and you seem to hesitate for a moment, he does wish you decided to stay a bit longer. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, turning around to glance back at Damian, who only stares at you confusedly.

"Just because you wear a mask in the middle of the night while playing hero Damian, doesn't mean you're invincible"

huh?

"But anyway ill visit you tomorrow so I can hand you the homework you missed"

you give him one last smile before your figure disapears from his sight. Even after you left, his eyes burn holes at the door for a few more minutes before groaning and pulling at his hair in stress

"She knew?!"

Literally in the middle of my Art history class writing this Because I had nothing better to do.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 lando norris x  fem! reader (angst) fic summary . . . after a brutal fight where Yn accuses Lando of being a heartless playboy, she realizes the truth behind his shattered expression—he’s been in love with her all along. part 2 to all I've ever wanted (622words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

Two days.

It had been two days since you’d shouted at Lando, and the words you threw at him still echoed in your head like a bad song on repeat. Every time you thought about his face—how he looked at you like you’d ripped his heart out and stomped on it—you felt like the worst person alive.

Because you were the worst person alive.

You’d been friends with Lando for years. You knew him better than anyone… or at least you thought you did. But maybe you never really let yourself see the truth. The boy beneath the jokes and the charm. The one who loved you so much it broke him.

And God, you’d hurt him. Bad.

That’s why you were standing outside his apartment now, heart hammering against your ribs like it wanted to break out and sprint down the hall.

You raised your hand and knocked, the sound loud against the door. “Lando? It’s me. I… I want to talk.”

Silence.

But you could hear the TV blaring inside. Some stupid show, the laugh track playing like a cruel joke. He was definitely in there.

A beat later, the TV clicked off.

You almost laughed, almost, because seriously? Did he really think you didn’t hear that?

“Lando,” you sighed, pressing your forehead against the door. “I know you’re in there.”

More silence.

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t going to let you in. You deserved that, honestly. But you weren’t leaving without saying what you needed to.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, but you kept going. “I was… I was awful to you. I said things I didn’t mean, and I didn’t take you seriously when I should’ve. You’ve always been there for me, and I—” You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. “I hurt you, and I hate that I did. I’m so fucking sorry, Lando.”

You waited. One second. Two. Ten. Nothing.

The weight of his silence crushed you. Maybe he’d never forgive you. Maybe you’d broken something that couldn’t be fixed.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, your footsteps echoing in the hallway.

But then—

Click.

The door swung open behind you, and you froze mid-step.

“Yn.”

His voice was soft, but it stopped you cold. You turned slowly, your heart leaping into your throat when you saw him standing there, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was a mess, his eyes puffy and red, but God, he was still Lando. Your Lando.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice trembling.

Lando stared at you for a long moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Then, finally, he spoke.

“If you mean it…” He paused, eyes flickering down for a split second before meeting yours again. “Kiss me on the cheek.”

You blinked, surprised by the request, but then a small, relieved smile tugged at your lips. You stepped closer, your heart racing as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

When you pulled back, his eyes were still on you, softer now, but there was a glint of something else. Something more.

“And…” he added, clearing his throat, trying—and failing—to sound casual, “make dinner.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Make dinner?”

Lando shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t have anything ready for tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter than it had in days. You knew damn well he just wanted you to stay longer. And truth be told, you didn’t want to leave either.

“Alright,” you said, stepping inside. “But only if you help.”

Lando chuckled, closing the door behind you. “Deal.”

[harrywavycurly]

Worst Mob Boss Ever: Book Club

Part 1: Here

A/N: I wasn’t planning on a part 2 but here we are because I got hit with inspiration, so enjoy✨

CW: Language, mentions of Harry’s “job”, mentions of past violent acts (broken nose), multiple “threats” of violence towards one person.

Tag List: @mema10 @angeldavis777 @outofthisworl-d @howling-wolf97 @umadirectioner @fangirl509east

Summary: Harry joins you for book club and it doesn’t go the way he imagined it would ✨

“They aren’t going to let you in dressed like that.” You warn the tall green eyed man who is standing next to you holding your slippers outside the parked car that’s currently in a driveway of a house he’s never been to before. Harry quirks a brow as he looks down at his suit, not sure why his attire would keep him from being able to enjoy an evening discussing a subpar romance novel. You shake your head and give Mitch a glare as you grab your backpack off the floor of your car. “You better bring it back with a full tank or I’m kicking your ass.” Your brother just rolls his eyes as he watches you sling a strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Just call me when it’s done.” You just nod and go to close the door. “And uh tell Sydney I said-” You close the door on him before he can finish his sentence making him laugh as you shoot him the bird before turning and facing the house.

“May I ask what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ignore Harry as you make your way up the path that leads to the front door of your bestfriend’s house. “Do they have an issue with Gucci or something?” He asks as he follows closely behind you while Mitch begins to back out of the driveway so he can go run the errands he needed to borrow your car for.

“I told you this is a cozy book club meaning you can’t just show up in a suit and honestly no one gives a shit if it’s Gucci or not.” You explain to him as you take the pair of slippers out of his hands that you made him hold for you while you got the rest of your stuff from the car.

“If I take the jacket off and roll up the sleeves it can give cozy vibes.” He offers making you roll your eyes because both of you know that nothing will make his suit look cozy.

“Just don’t embarrass me this-” Harry’s attention moves from you to the front door of the house as it swings open revealing someone he hasn’t seen in months, dressed in a matching pink and white stripped pajama set and white slippers.

“What the actual fuck is Harry Styles doing on my front porch?” You look at Morgan and then over your shoulder to Harry who looks more amused than annoyed or even shocked at her question.

“Good to see you too Morgan.” He greets your bestfriend with a smile making her cross her arms over her chest as she glares at him.

“I must have died and gone to hell because there is no way this is actually happening.” You raise an eyebrow at her as you try to ever remember her ever mentioning knowing Harry but you come up empty as the two of them just stare at one another.

“Uh how do you know him?” You ask making Morgan finally acknowledge you and you could laugh at how her face changes from a scowl to a soft smile as soon as her eyes meet your, but then she lets out an annoyed huff as she looks away from you so she can go back to glaring at the man behind you.

“That’s my cousin’s old boss. I met him at a holiday party a year or so ago.” Harry can’t help but feel his jaw clench as she motions at him with one of her red acrylic nails, not liking the tone she’s using at all. “He’s an asshole and-”

“I’m an asshole? Your cousin was the asshole or did you forget the reason why he no longer works for me?”

“So he borrowed some money-”

“I didn’t know stealing was the same thing as borrowing?”

“He paid it back.”

“Yeah after I broke his nose and threatened to beak his kneecaps with a crowbar.” Your eyes go wide as Harry tells Morgan what he did to her cousin as if it’s the most casual conversation he’s had all day. But to your surprise all Morgan does is place her hands on her hips and narrow her eyes at him while Harry just stands there unbothered.

“Oh please as if you ever do anything yourself you had Frank do it for you.” She snaps at him making Harry let out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief that of all the people in this city you could be friends with you somehow manage to pick someone who can’t stand him and all because he fired her cousin for stealing from him. And if Harry’s being honest she’s lucky her cousin is even still breathing but he’d never voice that out loud to her since she’s already looking at him like she wants to strangle him with her barehands.

“Frank? You think I sent Frank to deal with your idiot cousin? I wouldn’t trust him with my coffee order.” You feel like you’ve been standing on Morgan’s front porch for an hour when in reality it’s only been a few minutes but you decide in this moment you’ve heard enough and just want to go inside and change out of your work uniform.

“I’m going to go change while the two of you finish catching up.” Morgan looks at you and smiles as she moves to the side giving you enough space to walk through her front door, leaving her alone with Harry on the porch.

“Listen Morgan I’m not here to talk about your cousin or work I’m just here for book club.” Harry’s voice is calm and controlled, it doesn’t hold a single bit of the annoyance he has bubbling inside of him right now as he watches you enter the house and turn down a hallway so you’re no longer in his line of sight. Doing his best to hide the fact he doesn’t enjoy not being able to see you, he is willing to say whatever he needs in order to get inside the house.

“Fine but you’re not stepping a foot inside my house until you explain why you’re here with my bestfriend who doesn’t have anything to do with you or your business.” Harry can tell by her voice that she’s serious, she would make him sit outside on the porch all night until he gave her the details she’s looking for so he just nods before running a hand through his hair.

“I got into her car thinking it was mine and now here we are.” Morgan gives him a look that lets him know she isn’t buying a single word he’s saying.

“You got into her car thinking it was yours? Why because it’s a big black suv?” Morgan furrows her brows as Harry lets out an annoyed sigh and just shrugs in response making her roll her eyes. “God you’re such a narcissist.”

“So I’ve been told.” He says with a smirk as he remembers a very similar conversation he had with you earlier.

“You can’t come in dressed like that.” Morgan states as she eyes his suit and Harry for a moment considers just using your phone so he can call Eric to come get him but he really wants to see what this book club is all about since you were willing to risk your life by threatening his head of security just to get to it on time.

“Sorry I missed the memo that went over the dress code but this is all I have.” He explains making Morgan rub her lips together as she contemplates several options in her head, and when she finally gives Harry a smirk he knows he’s not going to like what she’s about to tell him.

“Fine just lose the jacket and you have to wear slippers.”

“I don’t wear slippers.”

“Then you don’t come inside.” Morgan watches Harry run a hand over his face as he lets out a sigh of defeat before looking at her and motioning towards the front door.

“Fine lead the way then.” She smiles and turns around to lead him into the house. “Just please don’t make them fuzzy.”

You walk out of Morgan’s bedroom finally feeling a bit more relaxed now that you’re out of your work clothes and in your gray sweat-shorts and pink t shirt, you smile as you walk down the hall and can hear the sound of Sydney’s voice. When you turn to go into the living room you feel like you just entered a weird alternate universe because Harry is sitting on the couch with his sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows, his suit jacket hung over the armrest of the couch, a pair of red and white fuzzy slippers with hearts all over them on his feet that are propped up on Morgan’s ottoman and a glass of wine in his hand. You look over to his left and see Sydney sitting next to him with her back against the armrest so she’s facing him with her wine glass clutched in both hand as her eyes go wide with a wild kind of excitement at something he just said.

“Wait you like-you can do that?” Sydney asks making Harry just nod in response as he takes a sip of his wine while you walk over to the loveseat across from the couch.

“He can do what?” You ask making Harry’s eyes travel across the room until they find yours and you ignore the small flutter your heart does when he gives you a smile as if he hasn’t seen you in ages when it’s just been ten minutes.

“He can beat up Johnny for me.” Sydney answers with an excitement you haven’t heard from her ever since her ex, Johnny cheated on her a few weeks ago.

“I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself.” He’s looking at you as he speaks and you roll your eyes as you lean over to grab the bottle of wine off the coffee table so you can pour yourself some but Harry is quicker than you so he beats you to it. Placing his own glass down on the coffee table, he picks up the bottle of white wine and an empty glass. “You’re quite scary when you’re annoyed so I can’t image how terrifying you could be to someone who really pissed you off.” He adds as he holds the full glass of wine out for you to take, an annoying grin on his face.

“She tried but he-” Sydney begins but then pauses to take a sip of wine.

“He what?” All the lightheartedness leaves Harry’s voice as he turns to look at Sydney and she swallows the sip of wine in her mouth before she turns to look at you which makes Harry follow her gaze, his green eyes a shade darker as they stare into yours. You want to laugh at how serious he is but you don’t, you oddly find it kind of nice knowing he seems upset at the mere idea of someone doing anything to you.

“He called the cops on me.” You answer for Sydney with a chuckle as you lean back into the cushions of the loveseat, doing your best to get comfortable.

“That’s because Johnny is a little bitch who was scared shitless the moment he saw you pull up into his driveway with that baseball bat.” You roll your eyes as Morgan explains what happened as she walks into the living room and places a tray of snacks down on the coffee table. Harry can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face as he imagines you in a fit of rage pulling up to someone’s house holding a baseball bat.

“Well he sure didn’t seem scared when I used it to smash his windshield. Seemed more angry than anything.” Harry takes a moment to look around the living room, as far as book clubs go he feels like it’s on the smaller side since it’s only the three of you and then him but he also for some reason feels the same way he does when he enters a meeting that’s just with his top men. So he can’t even stop himself before he says what comes to his mind next.

“Are you lot in a gang? Is that what this book club is actually for? Just a cover up for your meetings to discus who needs to be met with a baseball bat in their driveway?” All three of you look at him with playful glares making him just quirk a brow when Morgan takes a sip of her wine and looks away from him first so she can go into the kitchen to grab some napkins.

“Do you not have friends Harry? Because not every group of friends that are willing to go to jail for each other is a gang.” Sydney asks as she reaches over and gently places a hand on Harry’s knee and you have to rub your lips together to keep the laugh inside when you watch her give his knee a nice reassuring pat. “If you don’t that’s fine you’re like a big deal so-”

“Don’t feed his ego please he’s actually the worst mob boss ever he doesn’t even have a phone.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“I have a phone I just don’t have it on me right now.”

“What? So how do your uhm people know where you’re at?”

“I had to-”

“He called his security guy on my phone.”

“Oh is he cute? This security guy?”

“He had a nice phone voice.” You answer with a shrug before taking a sip of your wine while Harry has to bite his tongue to keep him from saying the worst things about Eric just to keep your friend away from him and for you to want to take back the thing about his nice phone voice. “His name is Eric.”

“Eric? Oh I know Eric. He’s your type Syd.” Morgan states as she places the napkins down and finally takes her spot next to you with her wine glass, she gives Sydney a playful wink making her let out a laugh.

“You can do better than Eric he’s not the best when it comes to dating someone.”

“I didn’t say I was tying to date him Harry.” Sydney mumbles as she takes her hand off his knee making you lean your head back and laugh when you see Harry close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his free hand as the realization of what Sydney actually means hits him.

“Well I have no comment on how he performs in that department.” He answers as he brings his wine glass up to his lips to take a rather large sip.

“But seriously you’d like-like really have someone beat Johnny up for me?” Sydney asks shyly as if she doesn’t fully believe that Harry has the connections or the time to deal with her ex boyfriend who he doesn’t even know. You look at Morgan because she’s the only other person in the room that knows what Harry does for a living and the type of people he’s associated with, she’s already looking at you and playfully wiggles her eyebrows as she sips her wine.

“Syd he could have Johnny more than just beat up.” Morgan says as she looks away from you and over to the girl who is now looking at Harry with a suspicious expression on her face. “He could have him swimming with the fishes if you know what I mean.” Sydney’s eyes go wide while Harry as usual looks completely unbothered as he turns his head so he can look at the girl who now seems a bit concerned with how close she’s sitting to him now that she knows what he’s capable of.

“The term is swimming with the fishes.” Harry corrects with a gentle smile while still looking at Sydney, Morgan just lets out a huff as she leans over to grab an apple slice from the snack tray on the coffee table. “And while yes I could make that happen I don’t really think it would be necessary in this situation.” You watch in amusement as Sydney stares at Harry with a hand clutching her chest and the other holding onto her wine glass for dear life.

“Okay well what would you do to him then?” You ask out of pure curiosity because you want to know what sort of punishment he thinks is fitting for Johnny, hoping it’s nothing too disturbing since he’s already mentioned to you how he has cars blown up with people he doesn’t like or sees as a threat as if it’s no big deal.

“Well in situations like these death is too nice so you simply make them wish for death just so the torture can end.” Harry doesn’t want to come off too harsh or make any of the girls in the room fear him, especially you so he does his best to make his tone soft and gentle even if the words are far from either of those things. But given how Morgan’s mouth is slightly hung open and Sydney’s eyebrows are almost raised so high they are hitting her hairline he would say his method didn’t work as well as he intended.

“Holy shit.”

“Did you-you say torture?”

“Jesus Harry you can’t talk about torturing someone so badly they beg for death while wearing fuzzy slippers at a spicy book club meeting.” Your words have Harry looking down at his feet and immediately rolling his eyes at the horrendous slippers that Morgan forced him to wear just so he could gain entry to her house.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“You’d be willing to do that? For me?” Everyone’s heads turn to look at Sydney, Harry feels an anger beginning to burn inside of him as Sydney looks at him with eyes that tell him she’s not used to people being so willing to do things for her let alone have someone hurt on her behalf and he knows it’s because no one has treated her the way she deserves.

“It’s the least I could do for you love.” He answers making a small blush creep its way onto her cheeks. “And if I’m being honest I wouldn’t really be doing it for you. I’d be doing it for myself because he just sounds like someone who needs to be taught a lesson or two on how to treat someone.” If there’s one thing Harry truly hates it’s men who don’t know how to treat their partners and this Johnny fellow doesn’t even know he just earned himself a spot on Harry’s shit list.

“So you’d handle it personally then?” Morgan asks with a quirked brow because she knows Harry almost never gets his hands dirty anymore unless he’s given no other choice.

“Yes I’d do it myself just like I did with your cousin.” Harry says as he glances at Morgan and gives her a look that tells her he’s not lying, he really is the one who broke her cousin’s nose.

“As long as you’re the one doing it I’m fine with it.” Sydney states nonchalantly as she leans over to grab a cracker off the snack tray.

“I do have one condition though.” He says with a smug like smile on his face as his attention shifts from Morgan over to you.

“A condition? You don’t get to negotiate something you offered to do in the first place Harry. How are you an actual mob boss? You really are the worst.” You argue as you glare at him making that annoying grin spread across his face, the one that makes his dimple appear and the butterflies to go off in your tummy.

“You have to agree to go to dinner with me next week.” You feel your eyes go wide as your mouth drops open while Morgan and Sydney stare at Harry with equally just as shocked expressions.

“Oh fuck off Harry I’ve already been held hostage by you in my own car and now you want to trap me into going to dinner with you just so you’ll beat up Johnny? You’ve lost your mind.”

“I haven’t lost anything. I’m just going off that old saying of if you’re good at something don’t do it for free.”

“We aren’t offering up our friend as payment for you to almost kill someone Harry. Don’t be fucking gross.” Morgan says in your defense but Harry doesn’t pay her any attention, his eyes still set on yours as he waits for your answer.

“Yeah Harry you’re acting like one of those poorly written romance novel mafia bosses who kidnap the girl they like and force them into a weird marriage and we are very much anti forced anything around here.” Sydney adds making both you and Morgan giggle as her worlds become a bit jumbled towards the end due to the fact she tries to take a sip of wine while still speaking.

“I’m not forcing her into anything she can say no and that would be fine.” You bite your bottom lip as Harry stares at you.

You let out a long sigh before you take a sip of wine to help calm your nerves as you contemplate your options, you know Harry is involved in a world you’ve only really read about or watched movies depicting the violence that takes place in it but you also know there’s a subtle softness to him. Because even now the man is at a book club drinking shitty wine and wearing slippers all so he could spend the rest of the evening with you. Once you’ve made your choice you lean over and place your glass on the table before crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him.

“I’m not going to dinner with you until after you do whatever it is you’re going to do to Johnny.” You counter his original offer making him narrow his eyes at you a bit clearly not expecting you to be try to negotiate with him.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to argue with me about it or anything?”

“Nope.” His answer makes you raise an eyebrow because it’s a bit unnerving how quickly he accepted your offer. “If you try to flake out on me I know where to find you.” He adds as a gentle reminder that he knows where you work and what kind of car you drive. While Harry is busy looking at you he doesn’t notice Sydney’s hand coming up to smack him upside the head causing his eyes to narrow as he turns and gives her a harsh glare but she doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered by it as she’s also glaring at him.

“You can’t threaten her while also asking her out on a date Harry god you are the fucking worst at this.” You have to bring a hand up to cover your mouth so your laughter doesn’t spread throughout the room as Sydney lets Harry have it. “Like seriously learn some manners.” She adds with a huff as she gets comfortable on her side of the couch.

“See what I mean? Worst mob boss ever.” You say with a laugh making Harry roll his eyes as he turns his attention back to you.

“Are we going to actually discuss the book or just sit here and give Harry a list of people we need him to hurt for us?” Morgan asks as she motions to the book in question that’s sitting next to the snack tray on the coffee table.

“For every name you add to the list it’s another dinner she has to go to with me.” He explains knowing it will make you all huffy and annoyed, something he’s coming to enjoy even though he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help that he likes the way your eyes get this little glimmer in them when you look at him while frustrated with something he’s said or done.

“So the book it is then.” You answer for everyone making Harry chuckle as you reach for your copy that has your bookmark on the page you left off at, deciding for the rest of the girls that one dinner with Harry is all you’re willing to do at this point. So when they both just nod and grab their own books you let out a small sigh of relief because you know deep down that the more time you spend with Harry the more you’ll probably end up enjoying it and you can’t have that because who wants to enjoy the company of the worst mob boss ever? Certainly not you.

[gaysullengirl]

the new receptionist 2

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read part one here!

summary: in which spencer reid gets asked out by reader.

pairing: spencer reid x bau receptionist.

genre: fluff.

word count: 0.4k

──── ౨ৎ ────

You walked through the Behavioral Analysis Unit's bullpen, agents were scattered throughout the room, typing on their computers, filling out paperwork, talking to one another.

You trudge through the workers, making way to your Uncle's office.

౨ৎ

"Damn, who's that?" Morgan asks, pouring coffee into his mug, Spencer turns around, "Oh, that's Y/n"

"How do you know her?" Derek inquires with a smirk on his face, "You haven't noticed? She's the new receptionist downstairs."

"If she's the receptionist downstairs why's she going into Hotch's office?" Derek asks, "She's Hotch's niece." Spencer replies.

"Seems like you've gotten to know her pretty well." The older man smiles, Spencer's cheeks turn pink, "No- no- I just talked to her on her first day," He shrugs, "it's nothing."

"You like her?" Derek asks, Spencer sighs, "Morgan, I met her a week ago- and we've only talked a few times."

"So? You can still like her." He reasons, "Derek, she's Hotch's family. That'd be so weird, he would probably stare me down at family dinner's or something."

"Aww you're thinking about your future with her." Derek teases, Spencer just walks back to his desk, ignoring Derek's comment.

౨ৎ

As you walk out of your Uncle's office Spencer catches your eye, he's sat at his desk, sipping a coffee and flipping through a book.

"Hi Spencer!" You smile as you walk toward him, "Uhm Hi Y/n" He responds shyly and adjusts his posture, "So, how's that coffee?" You ask, rocking back and forth on your feet.

"It's good." He smiles awkwardly, unsure if he should say anything else, "There's this really good coffee shop downtown."

"What it called?" He asks, "I've been looking for the perfect coffee shop, it seems like every one of them has 9 perfect things but 1 bad thing." He explains.

"Well, maybe we could go to it sometime." You offer, biting your cheek nervously, "Why?" He asks.

His questions shooks you, rejection you could handle, but him completely confused like he didn't have a second thought about you? That you weren't sure if you could handle.

"To get to know each other better?" You respond, unconfident in your answer, "Why? I mean I would understand if you were on the team and we had to work together everyday, we would need to get along- Are you joining the team?"

You shake your head, "Spencer, I'm asking you on a date." "Oh." His eyes widen, his mouth agape.

"It's okay if you don't want to go, I just thought maybe-" "No, I want to go." He cuts you off.

"Perfect." You smile, "How about this weekend? Saturday at 10?" You offer, Spencer agrees with a smile.

authors note!

part two since u guys loved part one, thank you sm btw!!!

part three coming soon!

[the-kr8tor]

Bite Marks

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 18.6k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), CW food mentions, TW death mention, body horror, CW violence and injury, TW blood and gore, alcohol mention. Slowburn, Part 3 of ink and bedrock, noxian! Reader. Spoilers for s2.

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Part 2 <<< Part 3 >>> Part 4

Ekko has been all over Zaun and Piltover, his board leaving trails of green smoke as he looks for you and the familiar shade of red you always wear. As the hand on his pocket watch ticks, his concern grows larger.

His first stop at the Vyx was hours ago, earning a shocked look from the business’ madam. He even tasked a few of his firelights to look for you after he combed the entirety of the lanes. While the search goes on, his worries eat at further. The wind turns harsh, cold and nipping at his skin while he hovers around at quick speed. Then, a last minute decision comes to mind, he turns his board around, twisting expertly around buildings to get to the docks where Sevika's place is near. Maybe she saw you, or better yet, you're there for another extra interview.

As he flies overhead, his eyes are cast down on the ground in hopes that he'll see you walking by. His heart almost sinks down to his stomach when he sees your noxian red jacket floating in the waters of Zaun. He drops down immediately at breakneck speed.

The water feels cool under you, waves crashing against your clothed legs, skin raising into pinpricks of goosebumps. Ekko finds you half submerged in the waters of Zaun, baptized by its tides, mixing in with your blood.

His boots crunch under the pebbled sand, footsteps measured and quiet as if he's trying not to startle a doe trapped in the jaws of sharp metal. Eyes roaming over your sitting form, legs folded on itself, arms embracing your body close— your blank eyes stare at the fading sunset in the horizon. Its hues paint you in its orange and pink glow, illuminating your swollen cheek, shining a light on your injuries.

The docks are quiet this time of day, no workers running around and trying to finish their quota for the day. No ships passing by, or machinery beeping and whirring above the sound of the waves.

Seagulls squawk above, wings flapping as they fly off into the sunset. The air feels fresher near the water, the cool breeze feeling like needles upon your heated skin. Your breath is shallow as you intake air, fists shaking as it remains tightly closed.

Ekko remains standing next to you, his own mind reeling from the sight of you, you whom he thought was invulnerable, tough like raw metal; and incapable of being the small form balled next to his feet. You're a force to be reckoned with, a noxian who's not afraid to bite. And yet, you sit on the banks shared by Zaun and Piltover, looking like a lost child.

Ekko knows this feeling well, having lived through it a dozen times before. He remembers the day he lost everyone he ever knew in a single night— the blank stare he had, the tear stained cheeks, and the hidden anger swirling in his eyes. All he ever wanted that day was for someone to stay with him, not to speak of apologies or comfort. Just for someone he knew to be there for him. So he sits down wordlessly next to you, following your heavy gaze to where the sun fades down into the water. The sky slowly turns a dark blue, as if waving goodbye to you.

A minute passes, then five, then ten, and he's still sitting there with you, his own lower half drenched in the water together with your own, his presence warming you. Your plan was for him to get used to you so that he'll slowly warm up to you— But you hadn't realized that he has done the same to you. With him just being there alone could help calm the buzzing in your ears, wave away the rose scented wind wafting across your bloodied nose to be replaced with the smell of seared metal and mint.

You open your split lips, wheezing a sharp exhale before speaking. Your lungs aren't any better than the state of your face. Chin placed atop your knees, the previous sunlight is now replaced with the street lights, its harsh white light not doing you any favors.

“S–Sorry, you must've been waiting for me back at the hideout.”

“I thought you were going to see Sevika?” Ekko still sits right next to you, eyes roaming all over your swollen and broken face. He notices your rolled up sleeves, free of your usual crimson jacket that now reveals battle scars dotted along your arms. Pinpricks of raised skin, marks left by a blade, long elongated scars that still bear the pain it once had.

“That was last week, Ekko. We finished last week.” You gesture with your head towards the councilor's home further away by the docks. Its towering roofs are unmistakable. Your shoes are completely drenched under the lapping tides, the water ebbing upwards and wetting more of your clothes. “No one's home anyway, I think she's stuck in a meeting at Piltover. My other interview went well at least, despite, you know.” Your hand ghosts all over your swollen face.

“Why didn't you fight back?” His voice is soft, not laced with a condescending tone or a reprimand.

For once, you think he's concerned about you.

“How'd you know I didn't?” You glance at him as best as you can with your black eye, seeing his hand reach towards you. His trepidation wins over him before retracting his hand back to his side.

“Your knuckles, they're pristine, spark.”

You chuckle at the use of the nickname, eyes flitting across your fists before unfurling them despite the throbbing pain on one of your wrists— all the while hiding the fact that your assailants might've broken your dominant hand.

“Guess they are.” They're as unclean as the dirt under your nails. “They ambushed me is all.” A moment passes between you as you let the cool water kiss your skin, drenching you and Ekko further and further with the rise of the tides. “I–I didn't want to fight, how would that look if they found me with their bodies? It could cause another crisis. Have another war on our hands.”

“They wouldn't be dead. You wouldn't have killed them.” He cranes his neck towards you, brows knitted together, eyes glimmering under the light.

“You don't know that, Ekko.” Your eyebrows furrow, fists opening and closing to shut your anger down. “I could've— I could, I know I can.”

“So you didn't bother to fight back?” He inhales, reeling in his anger that was untoward. Remembering that you're not the enemy. “Did you see their faces?” He gently takes your shoulder, eyes shining in the light as he stares at your split lips, swollen eye and bleeding brow. “Did they—” he inhales shakily. “Did they do anything else to you?”

You shake your head, hand gingerly wrapping around his wrist. He thinks you're about to pull him off of you, but you don't. Instead you run your thumb across the inside of his wrist. “They didn't. They took my bag and my pen before running off. I guess they were still afraid of me so they whacked me on the head and kicked me a few times before bolting off.”

Ekko nods, guilt written on his face. You know it well. “Or they were afraid of me.” He lets go, hand falling back on his lap.

You laugh despite the ache on your face, grin subsiding when you see his serious face. “Oh, you were serious? Yeah, sure, probably, bossman.”

He huffs, head shaking with a subtle smile. Another silent moment passes, it's a comfortable silence that has your mind finally calming down. His palms gather pebbles next to his legs, balling them together and picking up bits of colourful sea glass.

“That's pretty.” You say as he holds a blue sea glass in the palm of his hand. “Did you used to gather them up when you were a kid?”

Ekko reminisces, lips curling into a small bittersweet smile. “Off the record, spark?”

Chuckling, you scooch closer to look at the sand, pebbles and sea glass all bunched together in his hand. “Off the record, firefly.” Smiling, your index rummages through the pile, finding a bright emerald glass that reminds you of the shape of your old home. It's smooth around the edges, sheer but opaque enough to let the colour show.

“A few times.” He pockets the blue glass before picking up the green one and raising it above the two of you to see the light reflect on its smooth surface. “Used to swim here too, before the water got too murky and smelled of shit.”

“Now it doesn't smell like shit, thanks to you and Sevika.”

Placing the glass back down, he flips it in between his fingers. “I did it for my people, so the kids could experience what I had.” With a glance at you, he pockets the green sea glass before handing the pile on your waiting palm. “Why do you do this?” Blurting out, he expects you to glare at him, instead, you continue to rummage through the pile, wordlessly letting him continue. “You're noxian, you're doing something against your own people.”

You hum, tired eyes finding a shard of red sea glass among the pile of rocks. “I could be from Demacia or from Ionia, being noxian doesn't change anything. I hate their warmongering, a lot of us share the same sentiment, but not all of us. Not enough.” Heart stuck in your throat, you take the crimson glass, dropping the rest of the pile next to your feet, watching it plop down in the water. “That's why I'm doing this, the more people who know the effects of what they've done to the other nations, the more people would be against it. Something has to change.”

“What if it doesn't work? That you running around Piltover and Zaun would be for nothing?” He ducks to meet with your downcast eyes. “That you getting hurt would be for nothing.”

“Well, someone has to do it.” You smile sadly, “after this gets published for the whole world to read, I–I may not be able to go home.” The shock is evident in Ekko's brown eyes as he settles in on the sadness of your tone. “The moment I step foot in Noxus I— they could kill me for what I've written.”

Ekko inhales sharply, brown eyes scanning your features for a lie. He finds none. “They can't do that just because of it.” A half lie. He truly doesn't know that they would, only that they could be capable of it.

“They have. And they will. There are forces in Noxus that the world will never see, or even hear of.” Your eyes fill with unshed tears, a sob threatening to escape from your throat. “My professor was supposed to be here with me, did you know that?” Looking at Ekko, you see yourself in his eyes, finding the same hurt you have in those pools of light. “She lived a hundred lives, wrote more than anyone in the world has, dedicated her life to the truth. And she— she should be here, not me.” You throw the red glass angrily into the depths.

You stare at the ripples it has left on the water until it reaches you. “Mel found me in the bottom of a bottle, blacked out drunk just after I found out.” You grimace at your previous pitiful self. Ekko listens intently with an open heart. “She trusted me enough to continue my professor's work. I promised them both, Ekko.” Moving your head towards him, the tears flow freely from your eyes, mixing in together with your determination. “So please, we need to trust each other for this to work. Right now as we're talking, people in Ionia are dying from the hands of my own people, and people barely blink an eye at it. The entire time I've been here I've only seen the war mentioned in the papers twice. Twice!”

Heaving, you feel his arm hover above your back unsurely. You blink the tears away, wiping it with the crook of your elbow. “I may not be able to stop what's happening there, but I can warn people about it. Tell them their strategies, their ways of conquering so people would know how to defend themselves when they come. Noxus is on a conquest, and the entire continent is on its path.”

You continue as his eyes morph into worry. “Piltover was a lesson to them. Something to learn from so they could be better the next time. Bolder, and more terrifying than the last.”

“They're planning something, aren't they?” Ekko's eyes narrow angrily, mind going back to the fight.

“Mel thinks they are. They hate Piltover and even Zaun just because you helped. They could be, knowing what they're doing in Ionia right now. There's also that shit back home,” you spit out, cursing their very being. “Let's hope that they're too busy fighting themselves to set their sights back here.” You switch to a more light hearted tone after wiping down the tears gathered in your eyes. He seethes next to you, feeling his warmth ebb closer to your own form. So you try to calm the storm within him. Nudging him, you gently smile. “They hate you over there.”

“Do you?” He raises a questioning brow, air feeling much lighter than before as he stares at your unwavering smile. But the dark feeling still looms over his head, simmering into his hundreds of worries.

“No, I don't. I get why you've closed yourself to others, built a wall around you. I know it too well.” You sigh, hands rubbing along your arms for warmth. “And I don't hate you, Ekko. I rarely like people and I guess you're one of them now.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.” He uses your own words against you. His small smile fills your chest with comfort.

“Finally got the boy savior to smile.” Beaming at him, the lamp light illuminates your features.

He inhales, twisting around to face you fully, leg propped up with his elbow resting atop his knee. “If you want me to trust you, you need to tell me the truth.” His instincts still defy him from trusting you fully. “Who are you really? Before you took up a pen. And no more lies.”

“I…” you swallow down your trepidation, palms balling into fists before releasing the pressure. The scars on your skin feels like it's on fire. “...Was part of a guild back home, not the kind that weaves baskets or sells shit. The kind you didn't want to mess with. If you got the gold then we get the job done. Whether it's messy or clean, we do it. Then I was briefly in the noxian legion after my father pulled rank and dragged me into their shit show. I thought I would be doing good back then, until the real fighting started. Barely a fight when your enemies couldn't defend themselves.” You shake your head, regret spilling from your words.

Ekko listens with a stiff lip. “Then after a couple of years I went home and I found him—” you hesitate for a moment, choking in your own words. “My younger brother— passed and I was lost. So I went back to the guild, stained my hands for gold so that I could be worthy of a noxian death just like they have.” Shutting your eyes, you let a tear escape before exhaling and opening your eyes to see the open waters of Piltover. “Until I came across my professor. Or rather, I saw her on the end of my gun.” You chuckle at the memory, chest heavy with sorrow. “Can you believe that she managed to talk me out of killing her?”

“She must've been something.”

“She was.” You smile, nudging Ekko gently with your shoulder. “I had to lie to the council, Ekko. I told them I'm just a historian so they'd let me do what I need to do. If I told them I used to… they wouldn't have let me. My promise would've been broken before I could start.”

“You lied to the council?” He's impressed based on the tone of his voice. “What else have you lied about?” He challenges you with his sharp gaze.

“I actually did study under my professor. Straightened my life out, got my degree, masters. And got more degrees. I've got a talent for it, you see.” You proudly say. “I cut ties with the legion and the guild way before that so you don't have to worry about more noxians popping in the undercity looking for me.”

His brows knit together, trepidation on the tip of his tongue. “You must've been too young to do all that shit.”

You chuckle without humour. “They start you young back there.” Your tone wavers as you stare back into the dark depths, aching legs now stretched in front of you, watching the water lapping across your legs.

“Anything else?”

Humming, you feel the hard rocks underneath your palms, anchoring you back into the present. “I have no one else back home. Parents are long gone just a few years after my brother.” You shrug, shivering in the calming cold. “Everything else I've told the council and you were truthful.”

“And Mel? Did she know about you?”

“Yes. I thought she was going to recruit me like her mother did years before, and I almost fought her because of it.” You remember the day she trespassed in your own home only to find you almost passed out from drinking the day away. Good thing you blacked out before threatening the younger Medarda with your sword.

“I would pay good money to see that.”

“Is that a joke? Coming from the boy savior himself?” You smile, chuckling softly as you look at him.

“I—” his own smile fades, eyes darting behind you. “Right in the fucking open.”

Following his gaze, you see a familiar group a few ways away on the shore. They look weary and worried as they wait in front of what looks like a broken down building. The two of you watch as a large man opens the door and lets them in with a simple wave. It's a shimmer deal.

“Oh, now I remember what I'm doing here. Must be the concussion making me forget.” Standing up, you stretch your throbbing neck and dominant hand that's definitely broken from how you were shielding yourself from their onslaught of beatings.

“What? I know you want to help but you're injured.” Ekko clicks his tongue at you, arms crossed over his chest.

“They're the ones who took my pen, Ekko.” He gives you a pursed look. “Just like you, I don't do anything half assed. I heard them whisper about where they're trading it before they left me.”

“And here I thought you were here to brood.”

“Oh I was.” Shrugging, you unclasp your belt and pull it from the belt loops to wrap it around your fist in makeshift brass knuckles. The golden buckle shines under the moonlight, the carved rune on it taking Ekko's attention briefly. “I'm going to take back what's mine, Ekko, whether you let me or not. I'll hold back my punches, don't worry.”

“You can barely see straight and you're still bleeding. At least let me call for backup—”

“They'd be long gone by then.” You step in front of him, standing toe to toe with him in ankle deep water. “I've been hurt worse before.” Your walls crumble further down as you stare into his deep chestnut eyes. “The pen was my brother's. Please let me take it back.”

With apprehension, Ekko nods once. Before you could race towards the dilapidated building, he takes your hand gently to pull you away. “We need a plan.”

You smile, “this is why I liked you from the get go.”

—

Your banging fists against the metal door resonates throughout the whole building, shaking it at its core.

“Help!” Kicking and screaming, your throat pinches in your neck. What must've been a minute of yelling, the rusty door swings open, revealing the same man from before. His metal jaw tightens at the sight of your beaten up face. “Sir, please help me! I've been robbed and I just need—” just as planned, the same crew who ambushed you stands inside the room with a shimmer dealer. “Them!” Pushing past the metal jawed man, you manage to take him by surprise and even make it halfway inside the building before he captures you in his arms. “Where's my shit?!”

“It’s the noxian!” The one who held a gun to your temple says. Everyone seems to freeze up in place. Your pen and satchel is in his hands, ready to be traded, while the other is in the middle of exchanging it for a whole bundle of purple vials.

“You brought a fucking noxian here?!” A sharply dressed woman with face tattoos exclaims, worried eyes roaming over your form.

Now that the haze of pain from before has ebbed away by the rush of adrenaline, you now realize that the same crew who took your belongings and beat you were the same ones who tried to rob you on your first day in Zaun. Ekko's not going to like this.

With a swift back kick to the man's groin, you're free from his grasp as he kneels down on the dirty ground, groaning and tearing up. Running at quick speed, you raise your arm above your head as if you're shielding yourself from the sun. Your eyes hone in on them like a predator hunting its prey. Body moving on instinct, as if you never left the fighting behind. You barely make any noise from your rushed footfalls.

The sheer terror on each of their faces was worth almost getting captured. Luck seems to be on your side for now.

“Shit!” The group braces themselves, a few raise their weapons, guns and knives aimed at your form.

Just as you're near them, the glass roof above the building shatters. Glass shards fall like rain upon their shocked faces. With a streak of green light, Ekko drops down, hoverboard whirring as he strikes the dusty ground with his green clock arm weapon, twisting and turning around them on his board, collecting them in the middle and creating a whirlpool of dust and smoke to hide you from their eyes.

While they're too distracted by Ekko's tornado-like movements and the dust in their eyes, you tighten your hand around your belt that's still wrapped around your fist. The golden buckle glows, yellow light appearing around you like a halo as it creates a shield.

At a mad dash before your opening closes, you make it inside the curtain of smoke, quickly taking your things from the befuddled man in quick succession.

Jumping away and skidding across the ground, you meet up with Ekko just in time for him to stop right where you landed. He grabs you by the waist, guiding you up on his hoverboard.

“Got it?”

Looking down at your hands, you see your pen in your palm and satchel around your elbow. “Got them!” You hold on tight to his waist.

He pats your hand before kicking and flying up. As you fly higher and higher, you see the assailants cough and pick shards from their face and bodies. Serves them right.

“Let's go, Ekko. We'll get them next time—!” Before the hoverboard dashes away into safety, a loud thunk hits the metal fans inside, sparks flying, causing the board to malfunction and fall. “Shit!”

You feel his arms wrap around you as you both fall on the hard ground, puffs of green smoke enveloping around you.

Both of you clatter and split up on the dusty floors. A cloud of smoke trailing behind you as you skid on the rough ground harshly. You groan at the pain blooming on your head, hand feeling numb from how you landed wrong on it. If your hand wasn't broken before, it's definitely broken now.

Eyes wandering to your side, you see Ekko lying a few feet away from you, his eyes are bloodshot, capillaries broken from the fall. His nails dig into the dirt, trying to stand back up.

The hoverboard sparks from a couple steps ahead with a sharp dagger embedded in one of its metal fans. Your head throbs as fresh blood drips down your face, mixing in with the dried ones. Ekko yelps in pain, and you look at him immediately. His face is shoved on the dirt by a boot, and you immediately see red.

The next thing you know, you're up on your feet again, lunging and shocking the tattooed woman. She flinches and hurriedly throws daggers your way. dodging blades, you block it with your glowing rune that's still wrapped around your fist. But it may not be enough when a few nicks your arm and legs.

“Come on, noxian! Show me what you got!” The same one who had her foot on Ekko's head taunts. Her purple eyes from using shimmer glows, mixing in with the golden light the rune emits. Her feet dance with your own, auburn hair flowing as she dodges your frantic and angry attacks as you take her attention away from Ekko.

Meanwhile, Ekko shakily stands up, temple bleeding as his vision warbles for a second before clearing up. The four men look at him with frightened eyes, weapons clutched in their shaking hands. It seems that his reputation has gotten to them.

The firefly leader gets up, crimson flowing down on his lips, staining the ground in red. “Didn't I tell you to go home?” He kicks his hoverboard up, standing it straight into his waiting hands. His weapon is too far away from him to get a hold of, so he settles with the next best thing.

“Noxian gold pays better than being a bartender.” The one with the gun says, “are you running away, firelight?” He taunts, eyes narrowed at the hoverboard in Ekko's hand.

Ekko glances at you briefly, seeing that you're holding on your own despite your injuries, you've gotten hold of your sword again as blades crash against each other. Fixing his stance, he holds the board with two hands like a large bat ready to strike. His mind works on instinct, calculating all the ways they could attack him. And in turn, he plans his retaliation in his head. His breathing evens out, mind settling on a plan, and with a measured step, he bolts off towards them.

His head moves a few inches to the side, dodging a whizzing bullet, feeling the air run by him. Just like he thought it would. Then with a side step, he smacks the nearest man right on his head with his hoverboard, effectively dodging his rusty knife aimed at Ekko's side. Blood gushes out of the assailant's nose, eyes rolling back inside his head as Ekko knocks him out. Fountains of crimson splashing out whilst Ekko dodges again to avoid another bullet aimed at his leg.

Twisting around, his furious eyes hone in on the second man with a butcher's knife shaking in his lithe hand. The man slashes wildly at him, Ekko uses his board as a shield, but one passes through, the blade nicking his forearm. The man uses this opportunity to hack and slash at him frantically, and Ekko staggers backwards.

Then a sudden golden ring of light protects him, he glances at you, seeing that you're protecting him even though you're occupied with your own battle. With the protection, you give him time to immediately push the board towards his assailant and make the man stumble backwards and slam into the one with the gun. It accidentally goes off, shooting his own friend.

“Shit–!”

Ekko pushes and rams them both until they hit a stone pillar, smashing their bodies together on the solid wall. Their heads slam in tandem, a sickening crack bouncing off the walls just like how their heads bounced on the wall. They fall limp, knocked out and bleeding as they slide down the pillar together.

“Get fucked!” The unfamiliar voice says victoriously, spitting out blood as she staggers backwards.

Ekko hears you yelp in pain. Head turning towards you quickly. His eyes widen at your crouched form, your hands holding onto the broken rapier. He yells your name, feet already moving to shield you from the oncoming blow you're about to face. But he gets yanked backwards, hands flying towards his neck, he feels rough leather wrapped around him. Falling down harshly, his body skids across the ground as he's pulled and dragged towards the doorman whom you encumbered beforehand. Ekko didn't see him coming and standing back up from how hard you kicked the man in between the legs.

His choked breaths echo around the building, struggling against his binds whilst the man tightens his hold on him. A hulking arm wraps around his neck. The firelights leader struggles, legs kicking about and nails scratching at the man's arm. Ekko opens his mouth, biting down at flesh, drawing blood. But it barely fazes the assailant.

“I thought you would've fought better, boy savior.” The doorman chuckles against his ear. “Go watch your girl get her shit kicked in. Looks like you didn't learn your lesson after Jinx, huh?” He lifts Ekko up from the ground, making him watch as you receive blow after blow on your face and body.

You take it all in, shield building up but getting shattered almost immediately. The sound of Ekko's choking grabs your attention, mind remembering the same position your brother was in all those years ago. The thorns wrapping around his neck, roses blooming around him before he disappears into the rose scented void.

Ekko's vision fades away slowly, unconsciousness slithering and threatening to hold him down.

You see red, fire engulfing your body.

With a thudding heart, adrenaline fueling your broken body, you launch yourself towards your assailant, yelling a battle cry.

Pushing her down with a firm shoulder, making her fall backwards. You don't waste time in building the rune up with a silent whisper of words you learned years ago during your years in the legion. Clawing your way up to face her, you raise your fist as the golden light encases your whole hand. Quickly, yellow light engulfs the whole room, warmth seeping from your body and flooding everyone’s senses. Her eyes widen in horror as the light turns solid, like molten gold about to drip down on her face and scald her skin. The last thing she saw was the gilded punch meeting her nose, and the sickening crack of her cartilage filling your ears.

Warm blood stains your clothes, mixing well with the crimson tint of your noxian clothing. Spitting out ichor, you quickly grab a fallen dagger, sending it flying across the room and towards the hulking man holding onto Ekko.

He tries to use Ekko as a shield, but with a squeeze around the rune, you shield him with the warm light. The blade grazes the golden hue, harmlessly bouncing off of Ekko but hits the man directly on his shoulder.

The large man falls back, groaning in pain and letting Ekko go.

“F–Fucker.” You shakily heave out, stumbling towards Ekko as he gasps breathlessly whilst crouched on the ground. “Ekko.” He continues to cough out, hand placed on his bruised neck. “Ekko, move!” You now sprint, eyes wide as the doorman looms over him with the whip held menacingly.

With a guttural scream, you shield Ekko with your own body, grabbing the whip with your own arm as it wraps tightly around you. “Enough!” With a pulse of energy, you send it crawling up until it hits the handle and sending the man flying backwards into the wall with a hard thump. Your hands and clothes are smoking, letting out small puffs of auburn smoke. You give a hard yank at the leather, breaking the whip from its handle and tossing the weapon away, your eyes stares furiously at the man.

But he still doesn't give up or cower away, metal jaw grating as he clenches it tightly. You ram him further into the wall with your shoulder, barely making him stumble. So you quickly grab hold of the dagger embedded on his shoulder blade, wasting no time in twisting it until he's on his knees, yelling in pain.

“I said enough!” You scream, voice grating, eyes aflame. The rough handle of the knife fits perfectly in your grasp. “Stay down or I'll make you stay down.” The man nods, but you see a lie within his eyes. Yanking the blade out, you stab him again on the same spot, sending out ribbons of warm iron to splash across your face. He falls limp against the wall, unconscious from the pain and shock.

Ekko whispers your name, voice hoarse.

As you turn around to face him, you see the same woman you fought start to clamber up, crawling towards her fallen dagger.

You step around Ekko, eyeing her down, waiting for her to throw it towards you. Just as you predicted, she aims and throws it.

You raise your arm and shield in just the right time, slowing the blade's momentum until it's fully stopped in between the shield and mere inches away from your face. Grabbing the handle, you twist around, sending the dagger hurling towards her at great speeds. It hits her dead on the stomach. Her screams ring in your ears. You ignore it.

As you turn back around, you give Ekko a helping hand. He looks at your open palm that's stained with iron, then over to your face that's marred with running blood. Your heart clenches at the thought of him being afraid of you.

Instead of flinching and running away, he takes your hand in his. Staining his own hand with the same crimson. He holds onto your arm, and you hold him up with your hand grasping on his back.

“Are you okay?” You ask, tone whispered. Your vision warbles, legs shaking underneath your weight.

“I— that was you holding back?” He jokes, palm placed on the small of your back.

Chuckling, your smile fades as your eyes roll on the back of your head. Darkness encapsulates you, but warmth holds you in place.

“Spark!” Ekko catches you in his arms, hand placed right on your pulse. You feel like you're running a fever. He sighs when he feels your heart still beating, but it's slow. Dangerously slow.

He needs to get you out of here.

—

“Ekko?” Your voice is carried by the breeze as you set foot inside the familiar treehouse. You find him on his desk as usual, back hunched and turned away from you while the single red light of his lamp shines down on him. “I bought sweets as an apology.”

As you step closer, the door shuts close behind you, sucking in any light from the outside. “Are you still mad?” Once the words leave your lips, a searing heat hits your cheeks like a windblown flame carried by the breeze. “Jeez, can we open a window here? Your machine's going haywire again.” Chuckling, you cross the distance towards him, finding the familiar head of white hair. “Firefly?”

Your hands inch closer towards his still shoulder, the second your palm touches the soft cloth of his jacket, his head tilts back at inhuman speed— breaking his neck, bones cracking as thorny vines crawl from his neck up to his sunken cheeks. His brown eyes are now white as sheets, devoid of life.

“No! Ekko!” Flinching back, you hold your screams in your trembling hand, eyes wide as his limp body rises from the chair and floats above you with his arms raised to his sides. “Not him, you bitch!”

The fire in you settles in your chest, pushing you to lunge at the vines holding him up. As you click your pen and summon the gilded rapier, hacking and slashing at the vines— you try to cut him down. Desperately trying to free him.

“No, not him! Take me instead!” Your throat burns as you scream his name. Vines are cut but more replace them with every hit of your sword. “Please! You can't take another!”

Thorns fly from the severed vines, landing on you and piercing your skin in a gush of blood. But you don't stop cutting. Ekko's head tilts to the side, dangling loosely down to his clavicle as he opens his mouth and reveals a rose.

The room smells like funeral roses.

Suddenly, the vines holding him up bloom into bundles of red and black roses. The bulbs open up, revealing faces you've met, people you've cut down with your own bare hands.

The scent is overwhelming, acrid on the nose, a stench that cannot be washed out like the blood staining your hands.

As you look down at your hands, the sword clatters down on the floor as the void spreads around the room, shadows oozing from the torn off faces until darkness covers the whole place.

Your heart feels like bursting from your chest, hands trembling, feet frozen from under you as you look around the domain of chains and thorns. Tears flow down your cheeks freely as you watch Ekko hanging above you.

A silent scream escapes from your mouth when you see who's beside Ekko. There, trapped within the vines, skin pierced with thorns and eyes lifeless— is your brother.

“Hold—!” You reach towards him but you're yanked back by a vine and into the light.

Your head spins on its axis, vision blurry from the bright light shining from above you. Like the sun is in your eyes, warmth sweating through you akin to a fever. Heart beating like a war drum, you can still smell the roses in your nose.

Groaning, you place your hand above your eyes to shield yourself, only to find that your wrist is wrapped in a tight cast. The stark white plaster makes your head ache, a thrumming sensation bouncing around your skull. You feel like you're drowning in mud, sounds muffled and breath heavy in your throat. You can barely feel your fingers, wiggling each of the digits, your relief is palpable when they dance above the cast like rabbits peeking above the snow. You surmise that your wrist is broken.

“Shut the lights off, Scar.” Ekko's voice is the light in the tunnel you follow as the lights dim, and his face greets you from above. He sighs in relief, tensed brows easing up from the sight of your opened eyes. “You're awake.”

“Leaving you to her. I'll tell the others she's alright.” Scar's voice fades away as your eyes try to steady on Ekko's worried face.

Eyes narrowed at him, you purse your lips together, feeling the dry skin crack as you run your tongue over it. You exhale, breath shaky as you let it go. “Ekko?”

“Yeah,” sighing, you don't miss how his eyes wander towards your hand. “Water?” He asks, voice soft.

“Please.” The second the word escapes from your dry lips, you immediately hear water getting poured out into a cup for you. Roaming your eyes around the room, you recognize your surroundings— you're in Ekko's treehouse, all bundled up in his sheets, head placed atop his pillow that still has his minty scent wafting over your nose. “Why am I h–here?” Clearing your throat, he returns with a glass of water for you.

“You don't remember?” He asks permission to touch you, with a quick nod from you, he gently slides his hand on the back of your neck to sit you up. His thumb is placed right on your pulse, feeling your quick heartbeat under his finger.

You shut your eyes as the scene of the fight flits around in your vision. “I–I remember, why am I here?” You croak out the words.

“Drink first.” Ekko instructs, his hand is warm underneath your neck, while the other is cold as he holds the glass near your lips, condensation dripping from his fingertips.

You do as you're told, leaning closer to let him help you drink. The cold helps you feel at ease, senses slowly returning back with every gulp. To help yourself drink faster, you take the glass with your free hand, unknowingly holding Ekko's hand in turn. Water drips from your lips, and Ekko patiently waits for you to finish your drink.

With one last sip, you dip your head back and he helps you gently lay your head against the bed’s headboard. Clearing your throat, you see the bruises on his knuckles, purple hues marring his hands, and lesions along his clavicle and arms. The purple contusion on his neck has you frowning, and drowning in guilt. He places the cup on his work table right next to what looks like your pen sword all broken in half. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of it.

Your brother entrusted you with it and you manage to get it destroyed like everything you touch.

“I was asking why I'm here in your room instead of the infirmary.” Your voice floats above the silence, tone raspy as you take a breath.

“The fuckers are in the infirmary.” He curses and practically spits their names out. “Don't worry, our doctor treated you, not me.”

“I don't doubt your medical abilities, Ekko.” You manage to joke, cheek squished above the hard headboard. The bed is nothing special, the mattress is lumpy but comfortable enough to sleep in, sheets in patchwork cloth that he probably sewed himself. But the pillow under you is soft, perhaps even made with real goose feathers. You softly smile at the thought. “Did you at least get yourself checked out?” There's a sudden tightness against your forehead, reaching above, you now feel the bandage wrapped around it. The pads of your fingers gliding over the rough surface.

“I'm fine,” he says, jaws clamped shut at the way you tug at your bandages. “Here, let me. You're gonna rip your stitches.”

“Whoever the doctor is, tell them that they wrapped me too tightly. I'm still too alive to be mummified, you know?”

Ekko manages to scoff at your joke, a sound akin to a laugh. Crossing the small distance, he gestures for you to scooch over and make space for him to sit next to you. You of course oblige, moving a little as the bed dips underneath his added weight.

“‘I’m fine,’ is the code word for ‘no, I haven't seen the doctor.’ I know it well, I invented that shit, Ekko.” You let him unclasp the bandage briefly and adjust it to a more comfortable wrapping by making sure two of his fingers fit inside it. He smells of dried blood and smoke. It reminds you of home. “Can you let me at least look you over?”

“Are you a doctor now on top of being a historian?” His arm flexes above you as he secures the bandage.

There's a deeper gash on the back of his arm that you notice. You stare at him through your lashes, breath hitching in your throat as you can see every scar and mole on his skin and face. He's too occupied to notice it.

“Technically I am, but not a medical doctor. I know basic first aid from my time fighting.”

“A talented noxian then.” Ekko removes his hands from you, eyes giving you a once over for an injury he might've missed. “I'm fine, spark.”

“The cut on your arm is deep, Ekko.” You poke near the inflamed skin, making him wince and flinch away. “It'll get infected if we don't clean it. At least let me help you with that. I may be down with one hand but I can suture with my eyes closed.”

“I can do it myself.”

“It's on the back of your goddamn arm, unless you want a crick in your neck—”

“If I let you do it will you shut up?”

You smile victoriously. “Maybe.” Shrugging, you watch as he stands up, tongue clicking in annoyance.

While he grabs the necessary supplies, you look around on this side of the room that you never bothered to take a peek at for his privacy. There's a few portraits tacked on the wall, drawings of people he cared for, some you already know— especially the familiar head of blue staring down at you on his bed. You try to close a fist with your broken hand, finding that you can't do that anymore, not while it's still in a cast. Sighing, you keep roaming your eyes around the small space, there's trinkets on his bedside table, a small lamp made from an old pipe. A cracked seashell, a few screws and bolts right next to a recognizable set of colourful sea glass.

The sound of a chair scraping on wooden floorboards gets your attention away from his knick-knacks. Ekko pushes an armchair closer to the bed, the same one you've been sitting on for months. You notice his iconic jacket laying on the seat. Looking outside the window, you find that it's already dawn, bitter blue slowly ebbing away the dark of night— which means he's been sleeping in the armchair all this time, looking out for you. Your eyes brim with hot tears, which you immediately wipe away before he notices. No one has looked out for you since your professor died. Before that, it was your brother.

He notices your stare. “What? I wanted to be comfortable.” Your lips curl into a knowing smile without saying the exact words. “Can you get up?”

“I think so.” You lift both arms up like a child asking to be carried. “I need help though.” You smile wider, eyes sparkling with mischief. Ekko stares at you, brown eyes heavy with lack of sleep glaring straight into your soul. “Don't push it, got it.” You say, sitting up with few resistance from your aching body. And unbeknownst to you he was readying to help you up. Dangling your legs over the bed, you take the box of medical supplies from him and wash your hands with alcohol without another teasing jab as you concentrate on cleaning his wound.

He scooches closer to you, arm folded and lifted above his shoulder so that you get a better view of the gash. As you lean closer with the antiseptic, he sees himself in your eyes. Now seeing the burden that once gathered in the swirling pools. There's tiny scars dotted along your neck and chest that he just now notices. Like the scars on your arms and hands, it bears the ordeal of what you have done back in your homeland before you decided to take a pen rather than continue on whatever path you thought was best for you back then. Whatever it was, whatever you've done, he knows you're still trying to atone for it, carrying it over your shoulders in a lead covered box of grief.

Ekko knows that it took a lot to get where you are now. To be the kinder person than you were before, to cover the jagged lines with cloth, to make the sharpness of your teeth blunt and no longer pierce through skin like razor blades. It hurts to know that Jinx could've done that with time on her hands, if only she had time, she could've been good just like you.

“Ekko?” You call, and his eyes immediately hone in on you. “I was asking, what's gonna happen to them?”

“Sevika.” You nod as you gently tap the cotton of antiseptic on his wound. “One of her people saw what happened, and she called the enforcers to take them once they can breathe through their noses again and not through their mouth.” He intended to only glance at you, but his eyes stayed focused on the concentration on your face. “All I'm saying is they'll live.”

“There goes my reputation with Sevika.” You sigh, relieved that you didn't kill someone on the undercity soil. Your eyes glances towards Ekko's face, only to find him already staring back at you.

“Trust me, Sevika and the council already knew you could fight.”

You scoff, accidentally inhaling a whiff of the strong concoction. “That's a stereotype, Ekko. You know better than that.” Pausing to grab the suture kit, you make a face at Ekko. “They're right though.”

Ekko chuckles breathily, earning a smile at you. “Sorry about the sword.”

“Don't worry, I'll get it fixed once I'm back in Noxus. I'm more of a claymore girl myself anyway.” As you thread the needle, your tongue pokes out in between your lips. He can't help but chortle at the sight of your expression and how hard you're focused on putting the thread into the eye of the needle with one broken hand. “Damn.”

“Here, give it.” Flexing his open palm, you surrender the sutures to him. “It's that deep?” He gestures with his head towards the gash on his arm.

“Yeah, just a bandage over it won't help much.” You sniff, rolling your neck as you stretch the stiffness away.

“You hurting?”

“No, just stretching.” Your nape throbs, but you don't tell him. A comfortable silence settles in the room as he easily threads the needle.

“There,” Ekko hands it back to you and resumes his previous position as you ready the cold needle against his skin. “Where'd you learn this?”

“Short answer, you fight too much and you end up with a lot of stitches.” You chuckle, “deep breath, Ekko.”

“Don't have to—! Shit.” Wincing, he hisses at the piercing pain.

“Told you to breathe in.” Shaking your head with a smile, you continue to suture his gash carefully. “My brother was the one who was doing most of the stitching. He had a steady hand, and eyes that are so clear I swear he could see an ant from miles away.” Smiling at the memory, you remember him nagging you with every stitch he does. But he still does it for you. “After the ninth visit, he finally taught me so I stopped bothering him in his lab. He still does the suturing whenever I bleed on his floor though. He told me I'm shit at it even though I'm pretty much an expert.”

“Is he the one you were dreaming about?” Ekko didn't mean for the words to fall out of his lips, his curiosity got the best of him.

You freeze in place, needle half inside his skin. “I was dreaming? What was I saying?”

“A name.” He answers with a solemn tone. “And mine.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Hands going cold underneath his warm skin. He can feel it too, so with an apprehensive hand, he wraps your wrist with his fingers, anchoring you to him and in the moment. He knows the feeling, he's awfully familiar with it even though he refuses to acknowledge it whenever it rears its ugly head.

Smiling shakily, you take your eyes off him and continue to stitch him back together with gentleness. “I don't remember the dream. Must've been something though. We fought together and that must've made my brain make up things.” You ramble on. Your eyes dart towards his neck, tears pricking in your eyes from the sight. The pads of your fingers brush along the bruise, guilt felt through the subtle touch. “I'm sorry about this— about everything.”

He whispers your name, voice apologetic and brown eyes swimming with concern. You move away from his touch, quickly and effectively covering his injury with a bandage and some tape. “I'm—”

“My head suddenly hurts.” You try to play it off, finger jabbing at your temple, but the shaking of your hands betrays you. “The doctor said I need to rest, right?”

“Yeah, he said you need to stay here for a few days.” Ekko holds the fresh bandage, lips pursed together. “Look, I'm—”

“Sorry, I know.” Patting his knee, you give him a tight smile. “You just caught me off guard is all. It's okay, really. You're curious. Now I know how it feels to be questioned.”

He nods, but he can't help but feel the guilt gnaw at his chest. “Fine, go rest. If you need anything I'm just here.” Standing up, he takes his hoverboard that's perched on the wall. Dusk lights up his features, hair shining under the sun even with the grime of today's activities mar it.

“Yeah, I'll yell for you.” You joke as you slide back down on the bed and tuck yourself in.

Ekko places his board on his workbench to fix it. “Always a show with you.”

“Hey, it's effective, okay.” You can see him behind the armchair in the same position you always see him— hunched over his work table with his gloves on. “You should rest too, Ekko.”

His head turns to you as he slips on his goggles. “Where? You're on my bed.”

“It's big enough for two.” You tease, fighting a yawn. His pillow is so soft that it's cradling you to sleep.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” When you don't turn around after he clicks on his soldering machine, he sighs and twists back around towards you. “Turn around or I'll blind you.”

“I like watching.”

“Turn around.”

You make a mocking sound, blowing raspberries at him, “my nurse is rude. Absolutely no bedside manner.” You say as you reluctantly turn your back to him.

Ekko fixes his board for a few hours, finding that there's minimal damage at the least. He rubs his tired eyes before sneaking a peek at your sleeping form. Your chest rises up and down, lips slightly parted as your eyes dart underneath your eyelids. You're dreaming again.

When he moves his attention back to the table, he sees your broken sword and weighs the gilded handle in his hand. It wouldn't hurt to try a crack at noxian tech.

—

A familiar knock against the door to the tree house echoes out into the room— one short knock followed by three sharp knocks consecutively. The same signature knock you've been doing whenever you visit Ekko in his tree house.

“In a minute, Ekko!” You say as you pull down a clean shirt over your head. Trying to look presentable even with you being bedridden for three days, you smooth down your shirt and pants before sitting down on the edge of Ekko's bed.

“How'd she know it's you?” Vi's muffled voice sounds out from behind the door.

“Okay, entré!”

The door creaks open, the light outside flooding in as Vi pushes Ekko to get inside first. Making the said man grimace at his childhood friend.

“And they said you won't make it!” Her heavy footsteps follow her as she walks towards you with an arm stretched towards you. “How are you, spark?” She clasps your head, gently patting you and careful of your recent injuries.

“Better, the doctor said I only had a mild concussion and some bleeding.”

“Her hand's broken.” Ekko adds flatly, sitting down on the armchair with his arms crossed and leg over the other. “And it wasn't mild. Not even near mild.”

“C’mon, firefly, I was trying not to worry her.”

Vi watches the interaction with a curious brow.

“She's gonna find out anyway through Caitlyn. There's reports about what happened.”

You puff your cheeks at Ekko before ignoring him and turning your attention towards Violet. He rolls his eyes, yanking off his gloves to stretch his hands. “Where is Cait?”

“She sends her love. *Firefly here doesn't like it when she visits.” She teases, using your nickname for him as ammo. You'd pay big money just to see them during their younger years.

Ekko scoffs, head moving away from Vi but eyes staring daggers at her. “She's persona non grata, Vi.”

“C’mon, man, let bygones be bygones!” Vi claps his shoulder loudly, “that was years ago.”

“You're lucky I'm still letting you in here.” His nose scrunches, face paint folding as he glares at Vi. Thankfully, you already know what they're talking about. Kiramman's task force sending out the grey into the streets of Zaun three years ago still hasn't seen Ekko and Sevika’s forgiveness. “You have ten minutes left by the way.” He checks his stopwatch, its chain dangling from his belt.

Vi sighs, “whatever, firefly.” She turns towards you again, smiling when she meets with your eyes. “I've got your clothes from your place, I hope you don't mind me taking them.” You now notice the paper bag in her hand. You narrow your eyes at her suspiciously. “I didn't snoop!” You narrow it further, lips pursed together. “I swear, I didn't!”

Taking the bag from her with a disapproving shake of your head, you rummage through the pile of clothes, finding that it has everything you need. Hair brush, deodorant, a tooth brush and your perfume.

“You look good for someone who hasn't brushed their teeth in days.” Vi teases with a grin.

“I brushed my teeth, Vi.” You look at her, offended.

Ekko sits up from his seat. “Please don't tell me you used mine.” You smile, eyes shining with playfulness. “You—!”

“I didn't!” You laugh, hands raised in surrender. “Scar gave me a new one, jeez.”

He sighs, sitting back down but without leaving his pointed glare from you.

Vi smiles at the interaction. She sits down next to you, bed dipping down under her.

“Great, everyone's taking my bed now.” Ekko mumbles, jaw clenching in annoyance.

“You took the chair, man!” Vi exclaims, hand gesturing wildly at Ekko. They both settle down as you chuckle at them. “So, tell me what happened?”

You swallow thickly, the stitches in your head radiate phantom pain. “I—”

“She got robbed.” A half lie. Ekko answers for you after noticing your trepidation.

You can't exactly tell her that they ambushed you simply because they're holding a grudge on noxians. Vi will tell Caitlyn and Caitlyn will tell the council, and that might put your position in danger. And your work in danger of being disapproved.

“I did tell her not to flash her money.” He continues, eyes glancing at you briefly. You give him a subtle smile as a quick thank you.

“Well, good thing our boy saviour was there to help you beat them up, huh?” Vi gently nudges your shoulder and pushes Ekko's boot with the tip of her shoe.

“Yeah,” you look at Ekko softly. “Good thing.” With an inhale, you bring your attention towards Vi. “Thank you for bringing my things, Vi, but I won't need it since I'm coming back to the apartment.”

“No, you're not.” They simultaneously say in different cadence. Ekko's tone was more intensely concerned. While Vi said it with surprise.

“What? I'm fine now, trust me, this is nothing compared to—”

“We get it, you're noxian, you're tough and you've seen battles yadda yadda.” Vi mocks a talking mouth with her hand.

“Hey!” You knit your brows at her.

“The doctor said you're still not in a good shape to walk around.” Ekko explains in a much kinder tone this time. “You need a few more days of bedrest.”

“He's right. I'm no doctor, spark, but you're still swaying and you're just sitting in place.” Vi says apologetically, hand placed in between your shoulders to reassure you. Or to keep you from unknowingly swaying.

“I am?” They both nod. “I just don't want to intrude. I've been here for three days and Ekko hasn't slept in his own bed. I need to get back out there.”

“You said it yourself, there's no deadline.” Vi looks at Ekko for backup.

“I’m fine sleeping on the armchair for a few more days, red.” Ekko agrees with Vi. “‘Sides, you're not getting any writing down with your broken hand.” With the mention of your injury, the three of you look at your plastered hand with the many writings and drawings of firelight children that came to visit you.

“I'm ambidextrous.” You blatantly lie.

“I've seen you wield a sword, no you're not.” Ekko tilts his head back, looking at you like you're one of his firelights that needs a reprimand.

“I cannot not write!” You frustratingly say. “What am I supposed to do? Stay here until the doctor cuts this off?” You lift your broken hand for emphasis, waving the cast around. “That will take months!”

Vi hums next to you, eyes darting between you and Ekko. “I've got an idea.”

You pout, eyes trying to decipher her look. “Do you want Ekko to build me a writing robot that can write whatever I dictate?”

“No,” she backtracks. “Smart but no. Wait, can you do that? Like, record whatever she says?” She asks Ekko, awe in her tone.

“That'll take longer than for her hand to heal.” Ekko shrugs, but you can tell that the cogs in his head are turning trying to build your idea in his head.

“Well, in the meantime you can help her.” Vi holds the two of you by the shoulders. Connecting the two of you together.

“How?” You and Ekko speak at the same time.

“Thought you two were smart?” She chuckles, “you dictate.” Her head turns to you, “and you write.” Then she turns to Ekko.

“No.” He flatly says.

“Absolutely not.” You nervously say. “He's busy, and I've still got a lot of interviews to go through. Not to mention my own research at the mines— I'll be running around!” Rambling, Ekko nods with every word, except for when you mentioned the mines.

“That’s exactly why you need him.” Vi intercedes. “You can't write, and he has hands for it.” She takes Ekko's dominant hand and wiggles it about in front of him before he wretches it back with a glare. “And what if you suddenly collapse? Or a bunch of assholes try to rob you again? That cast is a fucking sign that says ‘I’m vulnerable, please rob me!’”

“But—!” You and Ekko share a look.

His watch clicks, a sign that your visitation hours are done.

“Looks like my time is up.” She stands up, clearly glad of the excuse as she smiles at her two flabbergasted friends. “You two can figure it out.” Before you and Ekko could protest again, she's already at the door. “Zaun’s brightest and Noxus' genius together working hand in hand!” Cackling, she leaves the room.

Silence permeates the room, and you slowly turn towards Ekko, who has his fingers pinching the space in between his eyebrows; Mumbling a curse upon Vi’s name.

“She does have a point, unless you already have that robot.” You intend to tease, but you're between a rock and a hard place right now. Maybe you can hire someone to follow you around?

“No.” He sighs, standing up, hands placed on his hips as he thinks.

“I can just ask Steb or—”

“I'll do it.” Ekko stares at you but his eyes avoids your own for a second before meeting your own. He figures that you've only got a few months left in the city before you finish your research so he agrees in hopes that the months will come by quickly. “But on my own terms and schedule.”

A grin blossoms on your cheeks. “You've got a deal, firefly.”

—

“So,” you start whilst munching on a piece of toast courtesy of the firelights mess hall. Ekko sits adjacent to you, eyes looking much better after a certain pink haired woman gave him his own mattress to sleep on after you've made a home for yourself in his room and former bed. You could've moved to a spare room somewhere in the hideout, but truth be told, you're still shaken up from what happened. Ekko's presence was a welcome peace to you. He never protested, and the two of you danced around the situation. “On the agenda today—”

“The doctor just cleared you. Too much spark, spark.” He looks at you over his mug.

“I know,” you shrug, eyes roaming around the open space with its string lights and people milling around during breakfast rush. “I don't want to waste time, genius.”

Ekko sighs, remembering the words genius and madness that suddenly popped up in his mind after years of not thinking about it. Chugging his coffee with a gulp before he stands up and gathering his things, he leaves you on the table.

“C’mon then.”

“Wait, hold on, you haven't eaten your bread yet!” Taking your satchel and jacket, you juggle between your toast between your teeth Ekko's uneaten slice for him to eat while walking. Feeling eyes on you, you see Jericho, the firelights chef give you a glare. “I'm giving it to him!” You reassure him that Ekko gets his daily dose of carbohydrates instead of eating it like he thought you would. As if you’ve stolen Ekko's food. Well, it happened once, and Jericho was the only one who gave you shit for it. You still have no idea how he even knew you did that.

As you run after Ekko, you fall back into pace with him, noticing that he slowed down for you and didn't take off on his hoverboard.

Shaking the piece of toast in front of him until he groans and takes it, you smile victoriously as he finishes it in three bites. The two of you exit the firelights commune, and the undercity greets you with the scent of coffee and steel lingering in the cool morning air.

“So schedule for today.” You wipe the crumbs off of your hands. Opening your bag, you grab your notebook and open it to where you bookmarked it last night. Your chicken scratch writing is evident on the page courtesy of your broken hand. “We have an interview with Mrs.Talis, but we have to make a quick pit stop to my place before we start talking to people.” Rubbing your temple where the ache persists, the action isn't missed by Ekko.

“Why?” He asks, keeping a close eye on the people that pass you by. “You forgot something?”

“Yeah, a pen.” You sigh, missing the weight of the gilded pen in your hand. “I've just been using yours, and sorry, but it's shit.”

Ekko casually brings his hand to his jacket pocket, rummaging through it whilst walking along the streets towards the bridge of progress. His hand feels around the cold cylinder, then without wasting time, he hands the golden pen to you.

You pause midstep, eyes widening at Ekko's hand. “You—” your breath is stuck in your throat. It looks much better than before, shinier as if nothing happened to it. It looks just like how you remember it when it was still your brother's. “—you fixed it?”

He makes a face, nose scrunching, giving you a casual smile as his eyes look behind you while you're distracted. He can't let his guard down, the people who hurt you might be behind bars now, but he still hasn't found the chem baron responsible for it. Apparently after some investigation from the enforcers and Ekko's own interrogation, he found that the said chem baron sees you as a threat. A noxian in Zaun brings less traffic for his business as some people still see you as someone to be feared— that you're in the undercity to put out any remaining flames from the past. He finds the guy, he ends the shimmer production once and for all and in turn would keep you safe. It's easier said than done, especially that you have him by your side every morning throughout the afternoon for three days a week. It's a miracle that he talked you down from making it to six days a week.

“I did.” He says, now staring at the awe on your face.

“How? I've seen people get blasted by ink just because they forced the fucking thing open!” Exclaiming excitedly, you catch a handful of attention towards you and Ekko.

With a casual hand on your forearm, he guides you back to walking further towards the bridge in the distance. “It's delicate,” he says, eyeing a particular man watching you. “You can't force it open.”

“Is that why you got a splotch of ink on you a few days ago?” You poke his side teasingly, feeling how tense he is under his jacket. Making a face you act like you're staring at something behind him. “What's that?”

“What's what?” Ekko quickly turns around trying to find what you were staring with concern at.

Reaching towards his chest, you place your warm palm atop where his heart is. He looks at you, glancing between your hand and your face with furrowed brows. “Quiet, it's beating.” His heart beats louder as you whisper to him closely. “It's beating faster.” You say, feigning shock and awe.

“Right, I get it, shut up.” He pushes your hand away gently, eyes rolling from your joke. Glancing at a shadow near an alleyway next to the two of you, he visibly stiffens.

“You okay, Ekko?”

Turning his attention towards you once the man walks away, Ekko nods and squeezes your arm before letting go. “Yeah, what's on our agenda today?”

Clearing your throat, your smile hasn't faded since you got the pen back in your hand. Clicking it open, you scratch out the first part on your schedule. “Well, we don't have to go to my place anymore so, Mrs. Talis first in upper Piltover, then if we still have time we need to swing by the academy.”

“We'll make time.” He says, eyes stopping by Vander's statue and the eternal blue flower that's always fresh near his bronze feet.

“We don't have to rush, you got hurt too you know.” Nudging his shoulder, you spot him stare at the flower for a brief second before he turns towards you. “Thank you by the way,” you say softly, “for fixing my pen sword.”

“Don't worry about it,” he places his hands back inside his pockets. “We're even now, spark.”

“Nope, I owe you.” You laugh when he glances at you with a raised brow and flat look. “How about…” glancing around, you see the last drop, it's probably almost done based on the fact that they're now putting up the lights. “I’ll buy you a drink once the tavern opens.”

“You won't even be here when it opens.”

“Says who? Stop trying to get rid of me, firefly.”

“You just noticed?”

“I'm hurt, Ekko.” You say as he abruptly stops near the bridge that's now bustling with life. Smiling, you nudge him gently on the shoulder. “Looks great, right?”

“There used to be barriers and spotlights here.” He utters, tone soft and small from the memory. He has flown above the bridge a handful of times before, but he never got too close to see it all.

“I think they scrapped those.” Grinning, you gently take him by his sleeve, urging him to walk through the bridge but not pushing him. You let him go at his own pace. “They have a shop here that gives out free shit if you're a new customer. They have a wheel you can try and it's full of free stuff you can win.”

Ekko closes his eyes for a moment, head turned towards the blue sky. The sunlight bathes him in its glow, illuminating his subtle smile. “Where?”

Grinning, you can't hide your excitement as you tug him along the shops. “Come on! I need to show you where I buy my ingredients and sweets!”

—

Ekko's boots thump quietly on the hallway leading towards a lone apartment at the end of the expansive hallway. The walls are in the signature Piltover colors, pristine white paint and golden accents decorate the space. When he was younger, he always wanted to stay at a place like this. Now that he's older and much wiser, the place feels stiff, something akin to feeling out of place. It doesn't feel like home to him.

“What am I supposed to do here?” He asks gruffly, pausing by the door as you ready your knuckle to knock. He senses your slight apprehension.

“Just write everything I ask and their answer. I'll clean it up once I can actually hold a pen.” Sighing, you stare at the number on the door. “And if you're feeling poetic, you can write what the atmosphere is like, or how they're feeling.”

“How would I know how they're feeling?” He leans against the side wall, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you with a questioning brow.

“I thought you're perceptive, firefly.”

“Never said I am.” He raises his chin at you, “what are you waiting for?”

“Just…” you inhale, “If you ever decide to get in on the conversation, please remember to be tactful. These people lost someone, and us talking to them would take so much out of them. We're dredging through things they don't want to be reminded of.”

“You said that you don't ask questions if they don't let you.” You nod at his genuine question. “Then why do they let you?”

“Closure. Sometimes people just want to let it all out to someone rather than letting it fester. Even if that someone is a stranger.” Finally, you knock, the same rhythm you always do. You leave Ekko thinking in the corner as the door swings open.

“Can I help you?” A lithe older woman opens the door, peeking through the tiny crack as she looks at you and Ekko with uneasiness.

“Hello, Mrs.Talis, I'm the one you sent the letter to, the historian.” You smile politely, “and this is my assistant, Ekko.” He side eyes you, subtly rolling his shoulders. “I hope you don't mind that I brought someone with me. My dominant hand isn't in good shape.”

She opens the door a bit more, concern written on her face as she knits her brows at the fading bruises and the cast on your hand. “You're hurt?”

“Not anymore, thanks to him.” You gesture with your head towards Ekko, he glances between you and Mrs.Talis for a second. “I'm recovering well, don't worry. And I'm sorry for rescheduling our meeting three times.”

“It's alright, now I know you weren't joking about the reason.” She chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “Come in, I was just putting the kettle on.”

“Thank you.” As you enter, you immediately notice the empty shelves and cabinets where there's still shapes made of dust, as if she took all the decorations out and left the place bare. You and Ekko share a look.

“Please sit down, I'll get the biscuits.”

“Oh, no need.” You show her the paper bag that has pastries you bought just for the occasion. It's missing a couple of pieces from when you and Ekko snacked on them on the way. “We got them from the bridge. I hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all.” She smiles, but you can sense that she's nervous. It's probably the first time she has guests over in a long time. “I'll get the plates.” She scampers towards the kitchen, disappearing from view.

You sit down on the plush couch, placing down the paper bag on the coffee table. Ekko sits adjacent to you on a brown armchair. Rummaging through your bag, you hand him your notebook and pen. “Here, before I forget.”

He stretches over the table to get your things. “I've got my own pen.” He doesn't miss the fact that you've entrusted him with the precious pen.

“Didn't know you're prepared for this.” Chuckling, you smile sweetly at him. “Use whatever you want.”

With a shrug, he opens the notebook, careful not to give the pages a read as he flips through to get to an empty page. He swears he saw a drawing of him in a couple of them. Glancing at you as you look around the apartment, he clicks your pen, ready to take down the interaction.

Eyes roaming around, you see the walls that are covered in old photographs. Some are from what you surmise as Jayce's childhood, the others were pictures of his achievements. From a newspaper clipping, to his graduation picture that sits front and center, his smile is plastered all over the walls. As you look to your left, you see an ajar door, where boxes upon boxes of arcane memorabilia is hidden from view. There are stones that are as blue as the sky, runes carved in various shaped stones. You now know what used to sit on the empty shelves. Eyes narrowed to see closer, you spot a single picture frame where a dusty photo of Jayce and someone you don't recognize stands next to him. You decide to be extra careful with your words during the interview.

Feeling eyes on you, you crane your neck over to Ekko as he gestures towards the kitchen, where Mrs. Talis is currently exiting with a tray of plates, teacups and a teapot.

“Sorry for the wait.” She smiles as she gently places the tray next to the paper bag of sweets.

“No worries, it wasn't that long.” You say as you help her place the pastries on each plate, making sure you give the bigger one to Ekko.

An uncomfortable silence permeates around the room while she pours tea over each cup.

“Sugar?”

“Please.” You smile politely as she hands you your cup.

Mrs. Talis turns her attention towards Ekko, and he shakes his head at her. “None for me, thanks.”

“My partner here doesn't like tea.” You try to lighten the mood. “Says that it makes his nose itch.” Ekko scrunches up his nose at you, face paint folding as he tries not to huff.

“Oh, alright then.” She chuckles, and you smile victoriously from getting a genuine reaction from her. And in turn easing the tension. Taking a sip from her cup, the slight shake from her hand can't be missed as she places it quietly back down on the tray. “Sorry, I haven't done this before.”

“It's alright, just treat this like we're old friends chatting away at a cafe.”

“That's a nice thought.” She places her hand over her heart.

“It is. I'm sorry about your son.” She purses her lips, the words leaping over her head as if she has heard the exact words one too many times for it to matter anymore. You hear Ekko writing away, and you smile fondly at how he's slowly falling into deep concentration like how he usually is when he's trying to fix tech. “How are you, Mrs.Talis?”

She chuckles nervously, fingers picking at the dry skin around her nails. “After everything?” You nod, “I— I don't know really. Just…floating around, I guess. Have we started yet?”

“We have, but if you want we can strike that from the interview.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I—I…feel alright. Getting there.” Clearing her throat, you can see her shoulders stiffen. “I know you're here to talk about my boy, so I won't waste your time talking about myself when there's nothing to talk about.”

“That's not true, Mrs.Talis. I'm here to talk about you too.” You try to get her to ease up, but the way her lips wobble, you know she's still hurting. “We're conducting this research about citizens in Piltover and Zaun. To know the effects of war on regular people. Not just what happened that day.” Ekko, looks at you and then to the anxious woman.

Her sniffs shift through the quiet in the room. You let her take her time, inhaling through the emotions rolling in her. You know that she reached out to you for a reason, to finally get the pain out of her chest even if it hurts more to speak about it. Because saying it loudly makes it real, but not speaking about it would eat at her, chipping away the woman her son knew.

“My son was a good boy.” She says after a minute of silence. “I want the people to know that.”

“The people know that, Mrs. Talis. They're grateful for everything he has done for them.” You say, and the grieving woman takes your hand abruptly. Ekko watches the interaction with a close eye.

“I just— I can't help in thinking that it was my fault.” She squeezes your hand. “You said that we should talk like old friends, this is me speaking like we are.” You nod in understanding, letting her speak her piece. “I warned him years ago. I told him to let it go. But maybe I shouldn't have, I pushed him away further into it.”

“Further into what, Mrs. Talis?”

“Further into the arcane just because it saved me that day.” She continues as you search her tearful eyes. “If that didn't happen, he might be alive, I'd be dead but at least he'd be alive. He was so young, too young for… I don't even know what happened to him up there. They just told me that he was taken by an explosion caused by hextech.” Heaving, she wipes away her tears. “That damned hextech.”

Her sobs echo around the room, prompting you to grab a piece of tissue from your bag and hand it to her. She accepts it gratefully, then wiping away at the fallen tears.

“It wasn't your fault, what happened to him was set off by different circumstances that no one could've prevented or seen coming.” You try to ease her as more tears flow. Your heart weighs heavy at the sight of the grieving mother. Was yours like this when she heard of your brother's fate? You wouldn't know when you chose to run away from it all.

“I know what happened up there.” Ekko's voice has the woman looking up at him. “I was there.”

You trust Ekko enough to let him take the reins, but you can't help but worry that his next words wouldn't bring comfort to the sorrow in her heavy heart. With a nod and a wordless look at him, you let him continue.

“You saw him?” Mrs. Talis stares at him with shock, listening intently at the stranger before her.

“He fought until the very end. He brought me enough time to get the final hit in.” Ekko's eyes shine under the light, soft as he comforts her. “We wouldn't be here if he didn't. He didn't fail.”

“He did all that?” Her sobs turn into a hopeful smile. “Oh my boy.” She turns towards his picture on the mantle, palm placed above her heart. “Thank you.” She tells Ekko tearfully.

You gently smile at Ekko, and he gives you a curt nod. After a while, Mrs. Talis looks over to you with renewed energy. “Can we continue? This time I won't derail the interview.”

“You didn't do any derailing.” You whisper to her with a more playful smile that she gladly beams at. “Are you sure we can continue?”

“Yes, the people need to know about Jayce. I'm not letting my boy dissolve away.”

You pat her hand, nodding at Ekko to continue writing. “Alright then. Tell me if it gets too much and we'll stop.”

—

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Talis—” You say before you're interrupted by a hug from the woman. “Oh.” Patting her awkwardly, Ekko tamps down his chuckles with a hand.

She lets you go, holding you at arm's length. “Thank you, I feel…alright now. Lighter.” Turning towards Ekko, she gives him another grateful grin. “And thank you again, Ekko. What happened up there would've been a mystery to me if you didn't say anything. So thank you.”

“‘Course.” He says, smiling softly at her.

The two of you leave the building in silence. It's midday now and people are milling about the restaurants to grab a seat during the lunch rush.

“Do you want to have lunch at my place?” You blurt out, nudging his side.

“You buying?”

“No, but I'm cooking.”

“As long as it's not sweet.”

“I'm not hearing a no though.” You say with a lilt. He rolls his eyes, but the subtle smile he has on his lips betrays him.

—

The air smells savoury as Ekko opens a window to let out the smoke from the kitchen. You stir at a pot of stew, it was quickly thrown together with whatever ingredients you have in your fridge, but neither you nor Ekko are complaining about it. Your sleeves are rolled up, battle scars unabashedly on display. And Ekko is more casual now that he doesn't have to look over his shoulder and behind you with vigilance. He shrugged off his jacket a while ago, now in his regular tank top and bandana. Twists up in a bun after he helped you chop some vegetables.

“How do you do it?” He asks as he leans against the counter right next to you.

“I just threw whatever I thought would taste good together.”

“Not what I meant, spark.”

“I knew exactly what you meant, firefly.” You pause from stirring, lifting up the wooden spoon to scoop out a bit of the stew. After blowing on the steam, you hand it to Ekko. “Try it. I might've added too much salt.”

“You haven't answered my question.”

“Taste the stew and I'll answer it.” You push it towards him until he takes the spoon, hand brushing along your own briefly.

He gives you a narrowed look before sipping at the soup. “More pepper.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Ekko places the spoon on the counter as you shake the pepper shaker a few times before stirring the pot with a new spoon. “The question.”

“I’ve gotten used to it, this is my job you know.” You stretch your hand before mixing again. “And I'm not as heartless as you think I am.”

“I don't think that you're heartless. And that's not what I meant.” Ekko takes the spoon from your hand, and you let him. Side by side, he stirs the pot for you. “I meant how you could listen to all of that without wanting to fight against the very thing that hurt them.”

You lean on the counter, hip pressed against the cold marble. “I want to and wanted to. But violence answered by violence leads to more bloodshed. But that doesn't mean I haven't tried. Or have done it before.”

“You took revenge for someone else?” He levels with you, hearing the stew bubble up before shutting the stove off and blending it again.

“Too many times, Ekko. But I quickly learned that how many times I do it for someone, nothing will bring the dead back.” You leave the counter to take the plates from the cupboard. “And I got an earful from my professor, which helped.”

He chuckles as you briefly leave the kitchen to place the plates on the dinner table. Your apartment is small and cozy but you're grateful enough to even have your own place while you're here. Ekko feels right at home with your strewn about papers all over the bed in the corner, and various photographs that you temporarily taped beside your bed. He saw what looked like you and your brother in a small laboratory, and a polaroid of you with an old woman. You're all smiles in all of them, but your eyes hide pain underneath the printed ink.

You return to his side, leaning over him to grab the drinking glasses from the upper shelves. His back presses against your front, and he side steps to give you space, swallowing thickly from the brief contact.

“Your turn.” You hold the glasses, eyes staring at him suspiciously. He raises a brow. “Are any of the things you told Mrs. Talis truthful?”

Ekko stares at you head on. “Does it matter? It helped her.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Yes, because this is history, Ekko. If you decide to change it on a whim, how truthful would the rest be?”

“I assumed that he did—”

“So you lied?”

“You did.”

The argument has the air inside the apartment tense and smothering. The heat from the stove has you over the edge, but with Ekko beside you, he holds you away from the cliffs unknowingly.

“I did,” you move closer to him, standing toe to toe with him. “So I could do my job. Now tell me, Ekko, what really happened to Jayce Talis?”

He inhales, getting a whiff of his own soap on your skin, and the sweet smelling perfume you always wore. “He was already injured when I got there. So I assumed that he fought hard until he couldn't. Viktor was too powerful,” he knits his brows together, memories of that day flicking through his mind. “I can't explain it, but I saw them talking to each other in the void for a second when his puppets got to me. I think Jayce talked him down.”

A smile slowly spreads across your cheeks, clinking the glasses together like you're celebrating.

Realization hits him. “You knew I wasn't lying.”

“Yep, I can read you like an open book, my guy.” Walking away, Ekko follows behind you, hand reaching for your elbow. He twirls you around, gentle enough not to hurt but the shock of it is evident on your face. The small of your back hits the dinner table, he notices, sliding his hands in between you and the wood to prevent it from happening again. He then leans close to your face until your breath fans across his cheeks. He looks like he's about to swallow you whole. “Finally got something out of you, boy savior.”

“What is up with you?”

“Still can't get a read on me?” You tilt your head, palms placed atop his chest, his warmth radiating off him. You look like you're about to let him swallow you whole. “Let me spell it out for you. You're stubborn, and if I'm never going to get an answer out of you, then might as well get a partial one.”

He glares at you, the light shining right on his eyes. If anyone walked in on the two of you right now, they'd think something else was happening as you're placed so close to him that his face is mere inches away from you. If you just lean a bit closer you can smudge his face paint with the tip of your nose.

“Has anyone told you that you have pretty eyes?” You say with a longing sigh. It's not a lie, not even a half assed one. “It's so easy to get lost in them.” The simple words have him letting you go with a huff.

Ekko pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly irked by you and your mind games.

“If I didn't ask, I wouldn't know about Viktor if you didn't mention him. Until now he has been nameless. Vi called him the cult guy. It's like they erased him.”

He lifts his head up, “no one told you about him?”

“Nope. Now I really have a genuine reason to ask the council permission to go ask questions around the academy.” Your sly smile has Ekko conflicted.

Ekko groans, stomping away towards the coat rack to grab his jacket. “We were supposed to go there today and you're telling me that you don't have a permit to go and sniff around?”

You shrug, “yeah. Now you're into permits?” He puts on his jacket with a click of his tongue. “Before you storm out, can we eat? I made too much and I don't like wasting food.”

Ekko takes a beat, head downturned, shoulders sagging and admitting defeat. Then he yanks off his jacket and places it back on the rack before shuffling towards you and sitting down on the dinner table.

“Good choice.” You snap your fingers at him. “Get ready for your taste buds to be opened!” He groans in reply.

—

Ekko waits for you outside the academy, hoverboard strapped on his back, and a face that has students walking away from him before they could ask what his business he has in the place.

The morning sun is pleasant across his cheeks, warming him up from the cool breeze when he was flying towards Piltover. He takes out his watch for the umpteenth time, checking how late you are. With every minute that passes, Ekko's annoyance gets bigger. And with every second that passes where he doesn't see you in the designated meetup place, he worries that it's just like time. What if you got beat up again? The sight of your limp body in his arms still haunts him to this day. He'll never admit to anyone that he was in awe of you that day, or that you remind him of a certain someone. He'd rather talk to you about what happened to him during the war than speak about his thoughts while he was desperately getting you back to the hideout.

Your familiar footsteps have him looking up from his pocket watch. “You're late.”

“Holy shit, you're here.” You heave in place, stopping right in front of him.

“Why wouldn't I be?” He quickly checks you for injuries, thankfully finding none.

His eyes on you doesn't fly over your head. “I thought you'd be too mad at me to actually come.”

Narrowing his eyes, Ekko walks away with his hands in his pockets. “You're right.”

“Wait!” You reach for his wrist with your good hand. “Come on, you're already here anyway.” Smiling sweetly, you give him a squeeze. “Please, Ekko. I promise I'll be on my best behaviour this time. No mind games, no bullshitting you.” You haven't noticed that your hand has slid down his wrist, and that you're now holding his hand in the middle of the academy plaza. “Just honest to god work.”

Ekko looks at the intertwined hands, mind reeling back to the day before the war when he held her hand. You duck to meet with his eyes, following his line of sight, you take his silence as him being uncomfortable with your touch. So you slide your hands away, chuckling nervously as you wring your hands together

“Sorry, I sometimes forget that I'm touchy with friends. Haven't hung out with one in a few years.”

“We're friends?” He raises a brow, genuinely asking the question, he doesn't mean to hurt you with the words. But after everything, he doubts that you see him as one.

“I'm going to act like that didn't hurt me.” Turning around, you hide the pained look on your face with the excuse of getting inside the academy. “Anyway, we've got a full schedule for today. So let's get on with it before you burst a vein.”

Ekko opens his mouth to say…something. He doesn't even know if it'll be an apology or another sarcastic comment that usually matches your own. Before he could, the large double doors open automatically. The gears churn from the weight, and he marvels at the engineering. It's simple but given its age, it was advanced back then.

Stepping inside, the large expansive halls of the academy greets the two of you. Walls upon walls of portraits and sculptures line the hallway. Anyone who was important in Piltover and the academy was there, leaving their permanent marks on its ancient walls.

Marble columns hold up the place, decorated with laurel leaves and carved owls that look down from their perch. There, in the middle of the room sits a statue of no other than professor Heimerdinger. His marble form is perfectly carved in stone, Ekko can practically hear his voice from the sight alone.

“The man of the hour.” You say, looking up at the statue. “Does it look like him, Ekko?”

He takes his attention from the statue to you, “it's accurate enough, needs a bigger mustache though.”

Your rolling laughter echoes in the halls, a few students pause to check the commotion before returning to what they were doing. Ekko smiles softly then takes another look at Heimerdinger.

“He looks intelligent.” You whisper to him after you disturbed the peace. “Was he fun? I heard from the council members that he was actually quite funny. Eccentric was the word they actually used.”

Ekko gives the statue a fond smile. “He was.”

“Come on,” you nudge him gently. “We need to talk to a lot of people.”

“I thought we were here for Viktor?”

“Yeah, and Heimerdinger too. Apparently no one knows what his fate is. And as someone as important as him, that's fucking weird.” You walk away, and he falls right into step with you.

“And you think you'll get your answers here?” He asks, eyes glancing at you.

“Nope.” You pop the letter ‘p’, a bit too cheerful for the subject of the missing professor. Eyes flicking towards him, you smile. “It won't hurt to try though. What if he's just hiding within these halls, you know? I like a good mystery to solve.”

“He's not here.” He shakes his head at your playfulness. He's thinking that you already have a theory on who might know what happened to him. And the answer is staring right at you.

“And you'd know that because?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Sure, a hunch.” Your smile tells him the answer to his own question.

—

After five whole hours of speaking to a few of Heimerdinger's former students, fellow professors and even the lunch lady, you surmise that he's not anywhere near the academy. Or even in the same country. There's a few theories floating around in your mind, either he ran away to another country after what happened to hextech. Or the answer lies to the last person who saw him, who coincidentally is right next to you, shuffling through documents in the academy archive.

The place is as expansive as its history. Rows of bookshelves line each wall. Like a library but filled with boring information like student records and academy files rather than riveting stories. The harsh lights have you shielding your eyes, and the air is kept stale inside to preserve tha documents. So no windows to open to let in fresh air, not to mention that you can't bring in food or drinks, so munching on sweets while researching is out of the question. You're bored out of your mind after three hours of looking through documents. it's like you're back in your academy studying things you already have knowledge about. The place even smells like it, old books and withered paper floating around the windless space.

You roll up next to Ekko on an office chair, arms crossed over the back casually and chin pressed atop it. “Psst!” You let out a sound like a bird call. Ekko rolls his eyes, craning his head to look at you. “Do you have the answer to number twelve?”

Ekko furrows his brows with a confused smile. “What? Is that how you got your numerous degrees?” He jokes back, earning a grin from you.

“No, and I was just fucking around.” You chuckle, poking his bicep, unintentionally feeling the hard muscle underneath. You clear your throat with a timed cough. “Any luck on your end?”

“None, just the usual academy shit. Complaints, student records, nothing on Viktor.”

You furrow your brows, “not even a mention?”

Ekko shakes his head, frustration rolling off him like waves on the shore. “You're right, it's like they erased him.”

“That's fucked up.” Pushing your feet forward, you roll around him, stopping when your hip hits the other side of the table. “Is there a chance you know anything about him?”

“No, all I know is that he helped develop hextech and that he was from the undercity.” He sighs, pinching the corner of his tired eyes. “I remember that he preferred to be in the background, but his name was everywhere back then. Not as much as Jayce, still, he definitely existed.”

“Maybe I can find something in Zaun then. You're just as intrigued as me, huh?” Poking his cheek, he leans back, waving your finger away from him. “Are you sleeping well, Ekko?” Your tone is laced with worry.

His eyes narrow suspiciously at you. “Why are you late?”

“Asking my question with a question, classic deflection tactic.” You chuckle, feet swinging around as you stare at him teasingly. He stares at you, not backing down. “Fine, nosey. I had to convince the council to let me conduct an investigation here. It took some convincing. And me talking down at them and saying that if they've got nothing to hide, then they shouldn't worry.”

“And that worked?” His brown eyes widened for a second.

“God no. I only said that in my head.” You poke your temple, joking and earning a chuckle out of him. “I did manage to convince them though.”

“With bribes?”

“Of course.” You tilt your head, the tip of your shoe nudging his seat. “You know me so well.” Smiling, you pull yourself closer to him with your foot kicking you in place until you slam gently against his chair. “My turn, have you been sleeping well since I left?”

“What makes you think that you've got anything to do with it?” He pushes you away from him with his foot.

“Please, you were sleeping like a baby when I was there.” Not backing down, you pull yourself back into place, annoying him further. “Was it my calming presence—?!” The next thing you know, you're rolling away from him after he kicked your chair.

“It's the opposite, spark.” He says, now ways away from you as your chair hits a book cart.

“Your snoring says otherwise!” You yell, palms cupping up next to your mouth. You ignore the ache around your broken wrist.

You can hear his scoff from where you are. “I don't snore.”

“Yes, you do.” Chuckling, you see him rolling towards your way. “Shit.” He's getting closer, speeding up towards you. “Catch me if you can!” Waddling away, using your legs as paddles as you push and roll away from him, your laughter echoes throughout the space.

“Come back here!” He can't prevent the smile appearing on his lips. “I don't snore.”

“Yes, you do!” Giggling, you mimic the sound of snoring.

The sound of a ruler slamming down on the table has you and Ekko freezing up in place.

—

“Man, I can't believe that old lady can be so mean.” You frown, stretching your broken wrist as the two of you exit the double doors of the academy after getting kicked out. Your wrist has been throbbing ever since the archivist made the two of you clean up all the piles of books and documents you picked up from the shelves.

“You haven't met a lot of old ladies then.” Ekko glances at your wrist. “You hurting? How's your head?”

“I'm good, don't worry.” You chuckle, eyes staring fondly at the concern on his face. “Just aching a bit from all the lifting.”

“I told you to leave it to me.”

“What do you know, I'm stubborn, just like—”

“Me, I know.” He interrupts, and yet you grin at him.

The sun is setting, birds chirping and the people are on their way home just like you. It's way past Ekko's designated schedule with you, but he doesn't seem to mind when he hasn't mentioned it.

“I've got a question, Ekko.” He side glances at you, lips pursed together. “Off the record, I promise, just genuinely curious.”

“You're always curious.” He stops walking, letting you continue.

“I'll take that as a compliment.” Smiling, you stare at him through your lashes. “Why didn't you go to the academy?” He saw that question a mile away. “You're smart, I'm sure you would've gotten in. Hell, I'm betting good money that you're smarter than the students we interviewed today. Seriously, who describes being sad as sad? You're a PHD candidate, use sorrow or melancholy for fucks sake.”

Ekko's laughter has you grinning from ear to ear. The sunset shines on him, brown eyes sparkling, hair drenched in orange as the charms wrapped his twists glimmer just like his smile. Your heart skips a beat, hopefully unnoticeable by the man himself.

His laughter subsides, leaving the crinkle in the corner of his eyes in its wake. “I didn't have time, I had people to take care of. Studying in the academy wasn't worth it when you don't know how you'll be able to survive to see next week.”

Your heart squeezes in place. “That's— I'm sorry.”

He gives you a soft smile. “Don't worry, I know I'm smarter than them. I don't need a piece of paper to tell me that I am.”

“Very humble of you, firefly.” You playfully punch his forearm, “very true though. You're smarter than anyone that I currently know.”

“That was almost nice of you.”

Your shared laughter mixes together in harmony, filling the near empty academy plaza with warmth.

Suddenly, your name is called from behind, stopping the two of you mid laughter. Turning around, you see the source of the voice.

Your face brightens up even more from the sight of the familiar enforcer. “Steb! What are you doing here?” Waving him over, he speed walks towards you as he carries a bundle of fur in his arms. “You cold or something?”

His eyes smile at you, blue skin sparkling under the setting sun. “No, just arresting a little menace causing mayhem in the streets.”

Just as he says it, a pair of eyes pop open from the bundle, then a snout, and then the cutest yelp you've ever heard.

“Is that Heimer’s dog?” Ekko asks, whilst you coo at the ball of fur.

“He's so cute!” Your hands reach towards Steb, palms splayed atop his hands. Ekko sees the enforcer softly smile at the contact. “Oh,” you lift your head, staring at Steb. “Steb, meet Ekko. Ekko, meet Steb.”

Ekko lifts his chin up in greeting, shoulders straight, and hands nonchalantly in his pockets. Steb nods curtly, glancing between you and Ekko briefly.

“Nice to meet you.” The enforcer politely smiles then turns towards the cooing you with a much gentler smile. His voice is smooth, like a whisper in your ears. You always found it calming, just like Ekko's. “Found him running around with trash in his mouth, so don't let him lick you.” You giggle, petting the tiny ball of fur. “He's not usually this friendly to strangers. Do you want to hold him?”

You gasp, grinning. “Can I?” Steb nods, handing the dog to you carefully. “He's so soft!” Jumping in place, the small dog looks up at you with a tilt of his head. You introduce yourself to him like usual, making the two men next to you smile. “You're so cute! You remind me of the dogs back in Noxus, the only difference is that you won't maul me.” Giggling, you cradle him in your arms. “What's his name?”

“Porofessor. Poro for short.” Steb answers with a subtle smile as you squeal in place. “He's blind in one eye, probably just as old as his owner.”

“Who's his owner?”

“Heimerdinger.” Steb and Ekko answer at the same time. Ekko glances briefly at the enforcer, while Steb clears his throat, hands crossed over his back.

“I heard you were attacked.” Steb asks, concern laced in his tone. “I processed the criminals myself.” Your smile falters for a second, aching wrist throbbing against your cast. “But I want to know how you are.” His hand grazes along the white plaster. Ekko clenches his jaw briefly, eyes looking between you and the uniformed man in front of him.

“I'm doing okay now, Steb. You really don't have to worry. You know me, I can handle a punch, or two.” You reach for his elbow, giving him a squeeze before releasing. He smiles, Ekko can practically feel the fondness rolling out of Steb in waves. “Anyway, who's been taking care of poor Poro?” The dog barks when he heard his name.

“No one,” you and Ekko give the dog a worried look. “Well, everyone pitches in to take care of him, but he keeps running away and back to the academy. He doesn't stick too long in one place.”

Your hand brush along his soft fur. “He's probably waiting for him.” Your tone is mournful, arm giving the dog a squeeze. “What if I take him with me for now? I'm sure he'd like the company. And just like you said, he's gonna run back to the academy anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Steb asks, taking a closer step towards you. To Ekko's surprise, you don't move away. “If it's not too much trouble for you, I can inform the academy grounds keeper that Poro’s with you. He's usually the one feeding him.” With a hand upon your back, Steb casually gives you a half hug. Ekko feels like he should turn away, or fly away. “I'm really glad you're alright, red.”

Ekko realizes that he's not the only person who calls you that.

“Thank you, blue.” The two of you smile at each other. Ekko should really turn away now. His eyes look around, refraining from staring at the two of you for too long. Suddenly he finds the roof of the academy intriguing. “And yeah, I'm sure. And I promise to bring him back before I leave.”

Steb leans away, hands retreating back to his side, smile never leaving his lips. “You better, he's the academy mascot at this point.”

You lift up Poro in front of your face, his pink tongue rolls out of his mouth. “I'll be back. Don't worry, Steb.” You say in a high pitched tone, miming like the dog is the one who's talking.

The uniformed enforcer chuckles, “right, see you around, red.” He gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Ekko.” Nodding at Ekko, he returns to his straight edge enforcer self as Ekko replies with his own brief nod. With one last smile from him to you, he walks towards the academy.

You turn towards Ekko this time, Poro still lifted up in front of your face. “Wanna have dinner at my place?” you continue to mime using Poro, who looks like he's having the time of his life as he wags his tail happily. “I'm starving!”

Ekko shakes his head, laughing at your antics. He can't believe you're the same person he saw beat up a whole gang even when you're already injured. You must've been something during your time at the guild and the legion.

“Stew?” He asks, petting the dog as he smiles at you.

“Sure, if you want it again. I've stocked up on ingredients this time around.” Putting back Poro in your arm, you beam up at Ekko. “We have to invite another guy though.”

Ekko frowns for a half second before realizing that you're talking about Heimerdinger's dog. “I'm sure he likes the invitation.” You grin bigger at his reply.

The two of you start walking outside the academy gates. Ekko casually takes the satchel from your shoulder, and you let him carry it as you glance at him with a knowing smile.

“So you and Steb?” He asks, a bit muffled above the breeze and Poro’s breathing.

You tamp down your grin by biting down at your lower lip. “Simple answer, no.”

Ekko nods, hand reaching behind you with an open palm placed on the small of your back with the guise of guiding you around the busy city.

A/N: I had to cut this in half because it's gotten too long lol thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you liked it ❤️

Photos are from Pinterest

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[danikamariewrites]

Hey! Would you be willing to write a fic or head cannon on how Ruhn would react to being mated to someone who is the complete opposite of him? Like maybe she is introverted and enjoys reading on the weekends instead of partying or something? If not that's okay! Hope you have a great day!

Opposites Attract

Ruhn x reader

Notes: I am 100% the opposite of Ruhn and will always be the friend that picks staying home over going out. Books over bars am i right guys

Warnings: none

The two of you met by chance. You hadn’t been paying attention while walking to work and bumped into Ruhn

He caught you when you tripped over your feet and then you apologized a million times. The moment your eyes locked the bond was instant. “I thought it was a myth.” Ruhn whispered. From there you took things slow even though the two of you fell hard for each other

You liked hanging out at your place better than Ruhn’s

It’s not that you didn’t like the frat house, you were just more comfortable in your own space

You liked staying home anyway. Everything you need is there

Ruhn didn’t mind staying at your place. He would cook you dinner, cuddle and watch movies without interruption

As your relationship progressed Ruhn was happy he could feel your comfort and happiness down the bond

It wasn’t like people didn’t know about you. You hadn’t been on double dates with Hunt and Bryce. Been to dinner with his friends and all that

But there was a part of Ruhn that felt like he was disappointing you

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out tonight?” Ruhn asked while you cuddled on your couch. “Yeah,” your eyes never leaving the TV. “If you want to go out please, don’t let me stop you.” Tilting your head back you smile at your mate

Ruhn turned off the TV, sitting up to face you. “Y/n be honest with me. Do you not like being with me?” The sadness in his voice broke your heart. Cupping his cheeks you shake your head. “Not at all baby, no. Ruhn how could you think that?” Ruhn lets out a shaky breath. “You never want to go out. And we never go to my place, why?” You hug him tight. “It has never been because of you. I just get anxious in new spaces and I don’t like partying. I’d much rather be here with you.”

After that conversation Ruhn became more understanding with you liking your space

Ruhn is a tad bit clingy but you love it

He’s always torn between going out and staying with you. How could he possible leave his beautiful mate at home?!

While he goes out you like your alone time. You chat with your friends, read, or watch TV

The first time Ruhn came home from a boys night he stumbled into your house very, very drunk

It was kinda cute because he was so happy to see you

“My love! My mate, the light of my life, I missed you!” He flops on the bed next to you, staring at you with big eyes. “My friends aren’t as fun as you,” he whispered, making you giggle. Ruhn pulls you to his chest letting out a hum. “I feel much better now. My heart hurt without you.”

You started going more places with Ruhn, trying to get comfortable with the attention that came with being the crown prince’s mate

When you didn’t like a place Ruhn was very understanding about it

You weren’t a huge fan of bars or anything like that. It’s not that you didn’t see the appeal, it just isn’t for you

You eventually grew to being comfortable at Ruhn’s place, even staying the night

Staying for parties at the frat house was also something you grew to be comfortable with. Especially when Ruhn made it clear that his bedroom was your room too

He absolutely did not give 2 shits about how clean his room was until he met you

The first time you came over to spend the night at his place Ruhn was running around like a mad man to make it look like grown-ups lived here

Ruhn was def shoving all loose items in his closet (the only neat thing being his made bed) until Dec came to check on him

“Heyyy buddy, you good?” “NO! PLEASE help me, i have too much shit.”

Whenever you’re feeling tired or just done with the party you always sneak away to Ruhn’s room

He’s never far behind you

You get about 10 min of alone time before Ruhn comes in ready to cuddle

When he comes up drunk he’s adorable

“Bbaayyyybbyyyyyy, i missed you.” He flops on the bed, pulling his clothes off and snuggles into you before falling asleep

You def read while holding him

Drunk Ruhn can fall asleep with the lights on for sure

When he comes up not drunk he just dotes on you

If the music and crowd were too much he’s very gentle with you, rubbing your back and pressing kisses to your forehead while whispering sweet nothings

[the-fyre-flie]

17 year old Bruce Wayne becoming a teen dad for 8 year old Dick Grayson and struggling, another mini fic, technically a part 2? PART 1

-

"Please stop crying, kid... please... I don't know what you want if you just cry..."

Bruce had assumed that taking care of an 8 year old would be fairly easy. After all, it was after the diaper and fussy toddler years, almost at double digits, and when he was 8, Bruce was already pretty independent. But Dick... Dick was constantly upset. Crying, hiding, not wanting to interact with anyone. It was impossible to get him to leave his room or eat or even just talk to someone.

Standing in the doorway of the room, Bruce felt this horrible guilt feeling pooling in his stomach as he watched the child just cry on the bed. He didn't want to step closer, fearing he might scare Dick, but he also didn't want to leave, feeling responsible for the kid. Leaving felt like he was giving up. Giving up on the boy and his grief, giving up on the hope of getting better. And if he gave up, who else would be there to keep Dick from giving up, too?

"Dick, I really want to help. You have to let someone help you..." Bruce got out, taking a tentative step into the room. It was late morning, and Dick had refused to eat for the past 3 days since... since the accident. "Can Alfred make you something to eat? Anything to make you feel better. Your favorite food?"

He kept trying to offer food, clothes, gifts, anything. He had all the money in the world, but he knew better than anyone else that money doesn't fix grief. Standing at the foot of the bed, Bruce took in the sight of Dick crying into his palms, the boys face red and puffy, rubbed raw around his eyes and nose. When Dick moved to use the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away fresh tear, Bruce reached out and grabbed Dicks wrist, brow furrowing. Instinct told him to stop Dick from doing that again, that the kid was in pain from how raw his skin was. Shifting to kneel against the mattress, Bruce gently pulled a hankerchief from his pocket and dabbed at Dicks tears. It was almost fatherly... Bruce had memories of Alfred doing the same to him when he lost his parents.

"You're hurting yourself."

His voice was quiet, and Dick had stopped sobbing enough to stare at Bruce in disbelief. The quiet hiccups and sniffles echoed in the mostly empty bedroom, the lack of decorations making it feel almost sterile. They would have to decorate it, Bruce decided, make it look like an actual kids room.

"I know how this feels. You aren't alone, Richard. Please, let me help you."

It was a plea, a hushed beg for the boy to let Bruce do what he felt he had to. Alfred had stepped up to be Bruce's father, and Bruce wanted so badly to step up and be Dicks. To pay it forward. To protect someone who needed it.

It took about an hour to get Dick to leave his room, but eventually he was sat with Bruce at the dining room table, slowly eating the eggs and bacon Alfred had made. He had stopped crying for the most part, and let Bruce brush his hair and find him a change of clothes. And yet, Bruce didn't relax. He wasn't sure if he was doing any of this correctly. He wanted to he a good parental figure for Dick, but he also didn't want to overstep. What if the kid didn't want a replacement family? What if Dick always rejected him? What if he was making things worse for him?

"Mr Wayne..."

Dicks scratchy voice pulled Bruce from his thoughts, the man looking up like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't be.

"When am I going into foster care?"

Oh. That was the problem. Dick thought his placement here was only temporary. He thought Bruce would eventually get rid of him, and he had been worrying himself to tears thinking he would just get thrown to the foster system. That's why he had been in such a state for the past few days. That's why he had been so avoidant with Bruce. He was preparing himself for the feeling of being abandoned again.

"N-never. You don't have to go into foster care. The... the manor has a place for you always." Bruce spoke, trying to hide his sadness. Did Dick really think Bruce would just get rid of him after what happened?

"Are you certain?"

He sounded so weak. So defeated. He had just lost his mother and father, and he expected the world to tear away everything else too.

"I'm certain, Richard."

"Thank you, Mr Wayne."

[cerbaros]

[starkidlabs]

I really can’t take being asked out after like less than a day on dating apps. I feel like my anxiety just doesn’t like it at all. It’s like I need to have more than 3 message back and forths. I don’t know, I feel like it’s this fast pace aspect which is really causing me so much distress and making me so overwhelmed. I know the whole point is to meet in person but I feel like conversation time is getting shorter and shorter every week I’m on the apps. And like In a perfect scenario I’d want at least 5 days of talking with someone to a good level, so I can know if there are any instant red flags or if there is even some minor chance of genuine connection. (3 days is usually enough for me to say yes tho) Also there’s the genuine safety concerns too, like I don’t think anyone I’ve spoken to yet has been a genuine weirdo but I can at least sus them out a little if I talk to them a bit more. Idk I almost always dread the do you want to grab a drink message. It feels like I’m just being moved along so quickly. And as someone who is not used to dating at all it’s super scary too. I have got a date this Sunday with someone that actually asked me to go somewhere interesting, so if it doesn’t end up going anywhere at least I’d have done something different and maybe at least I’ll grow some confidence. But idk I don’t know why guys have to press you to go out with them after one day, and from the Reddit posts I’ve seen about this topic it’s because they’re all jaded, which is exactly what I want to avoid. It’s always ‘err why would I text for more than a day - they’ll just ghost me or I’ll have no chemistry with them irl so it’ll all be a big waste of time’ idk maybe you should text for human connection. I genuinely feel like it’s this sort of mindset that makes it so they never form a real connection.

Idk it’s just the impromptu let’s grab a drink either in the very first message or seemingly out of the blue when we’ve discussed nothing interesting ( I’m more likely to say yes if we’ve shared/talked about our interests rather than what we do for a living) Its a real mood killer tbh. Like as a person with high anxiety these apps which encourage fast pace dating are not for me. But alas I can do nought but soldier on because I have no friends to have benefits with or even spoon.

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Once again tumblr is silencing my voice by not letting me add more than 30 tags. Okay the rest of what I was going to say is that if you gave him an assignment that was simple and out of the way enough, even upstairs, he might be able to stick it out for a couple hours. Another factor that determines how long that might be is where this is happening. Is he at Brinkley Court? Then Aunt Dahlia and the other servants (whom he seems to be on good terms with) will cover for him. No matter what he screws up, “oh, that’s Barry! He’s just new here!” Jeeves might be able to work something similar at a different manor house (presuming Bertie’s face isn’t already known there) if he’s on good terms with any of the servants there. They might agree to take Bertie under their wing as a favor to Jeeves. It also depends on whether Jeeves himself is there to help him, whether they’re working in the same area of the house, and if they’re able to inconspicuously pull each other aside to confer.

In conclusion: can’t answer question, too many variables

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? PT 1

All I could do was stare at my reflection. This had to be a joke. I was going to wake up in my bed, right this instant.

“FUCK!”

Ok, so, pinching myself hurts. That’s fine. This is like. Some sort of lucid dream. What do they say to do if you’re lucid dreaming? Oh, that’s right, put your finger in your palm, it’ll phase through!

I resist the urge to scream as my finger meets solid flesh.

You see, I’m not in the right body. Or the right world from what I can tell. No, I’m supposed to be back home, waking up in a panic as I realize my alarm didn’t go off cuz my phone died after I stayed up way too late reading manga.

But of course, I’m not late to work, I’m in a lavish bedchamber right out of the latest webcomic I’d been reading! And by the looks of it…. I’m the crown princes crazy fiancé! As much as I love reading about the Isekai trope, I never wanted to be in one! And come on- as the Yandere Villain!? Couldn’t this at least be original? There’s hundred of stories just like “my next life as a villainess,” why couldn’t I be like… a stable hand or something? Ugh. Ok. Think!

I need to get home. Do the protagonists ever get back home in the stories I read? I pace around my room and rack my brain over every webcomic I’ve ever read, every manga I waited in line for, every anime I binged, even the unfinished manhwas! I can’t think of a single fucking one where they get home?

Well this isn’t going to stop me. I have a cat who’s going to absolutely flip if she’s not given fresh kibble in the morning. She has enough in her bowl for another 2 days but she needs it topped off ok! She’s a princess! I can’t be stuck here! Who’s going to throw her pompom toy for her if I’m not there???

What did all these have in common? What’s the barebones trope layout? Ok let’s see

1) person either died or falls asleep and wakes up in a new world…. Check

2) person is the villain!…. Check

3) to avoid the characters terrible death, person tries to change the story, ends up being new protagonist…

Ohhh… hey…. Do these Isekai characters ever just…. Play along? Even the “reincarnated as a baby” ones, they only play along till they’re old enough to try to run away or rework the political structure of the entire city. Maybe that’s it. Make it to the books natural end, and you’ll wake up where you belong. It’s like when you get part of a song stuck in your head. Play the whole song, and it’ll get out.

Ok, I’ve trained most of my adult life for this- I can totally ace this trope! I just have to stalk the crown prince, act totally in love with him, and be a bitch to the female lead. Then my finance will leave me, I’ll do some crazy dramatic act to try to kill the female lead, and then I’ll be exiled or executed, and wake up to feed my cat. How hard can it be?

Hard. It’s very hard.

Where the hell did he go!? My fiancé, the crown prince Eric, was JUST HERE. I swear! He turned that corner back there and then went down this hall… at least I think it was this hall? Ugh! This is impossible! For someone with such loud shoes and an armed escort, you’d think he’d be easier to follow! Now my feet just hurt. They don’t make these fancy shoes to run around the castle all day. They’re meant to daintily peek from beneath my many skirts as I host a tea party or some shit.

Ok. I’ve got this! I’ll just peek into each room until I find him, maybe I can get a better feel for the layout, or maybe find his office and see if he has a schedule or a day planner or something I can use to make this whole stalking thing easier.

I begin snooping, and it’s a bit of thrill to be honest! Back in my real life, I’m the kind of person to hide a wrapper deep in the trash can if I’m babysitting, sitting on the floor playing a game on my phone after the kid goes to bed rather than “making myself at home” the way the parents insisted as they showed me how to access Netflix. I’ve never been a snooper. Now…. Well. It’s totally on brand for this character! I’m not me, I’m a psycho lovesick fool! I giggle a bit at that as my fingers trail over a shelf of beautiful pottery in some sort of sitting room.

“What’s so amusing dearest?”

I practically screech as my heart leaps to my throat and I whirl around, and see the very person I’d been searching for has snuck up on ME…. That’s so unfair!

“W-what? O-oh! Nothing! I was just- uh, admiring the pottery?”

I stutter out as I try to recall how to act like a human being while simultaneously trying to stop feeling my own pulse in my ears. The idiot has the nerve to LAUGH! Full on snort and everything!

“What are you doing in this wing anyways? Weren’t you meant to be out riding today?”

Shit. I was so busy trying to figure out his schedule, I didn’t consider maybe the body I was shoved into had a schedule of her own. Ok. Play it cool- I’ve got this!

“Yes, well, I decided I wasn’t in the mood and wanted to stay in today instead.”

His brows furrow

“Oh, but you love riding? Are you feeling ill? I can fetch the royal physician for you if you-“

“No! That’s- that’s quite alright! I simply wanted a change of schedule, that is all. Um… what about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He looked a bit surprised at that, and a small smile danced on his lips.

“I was just going to the library to do some paperwork, boring stuff really, and then of course our dinner at its regular time.”

I nod like that means anything to me. Ok think, if I were crazy in love with this man, what would I say?

“Would you like some company? Reading in the library sounds really nice, maybe we could have some tea as well?”

Ok. I’m already fucking this up. He looks confused…. God damnit …. I knew I shouldn’t have skimmed over those early chapters- but the translation was shit ok!?

“Well… I’d actually love that. But are you sure? You haven’t exactly shown interest in reading, and you’ve never requested something like this before…. In fact I don’t think I can recall the last time we’ve interacted outside of dinner or a scheduled social event in… well. Ever.”

Wait…. What? Isn’t my character like goo-goo-ga-ga over him? Are you telling me she never asks to just… spend time with her lover? They only talk during dinner and parties or whatever?

“Of course, I think it’ll be relaxing! Just lead the way!”

My brain is working overtime as I smile politely at him as we reach the library and I pretend to browse for books. I’m missing something here. What is-

Oh. Shit. That’s right. I’m supposed to be really insecure and awkward about him. That’s why she stalks him- she spends all her free time obsessing over this man from the shadows, threatening the competition…. Yet chokes up when it comes to how to act natural. Her inferiority complex is what drives her entire character. And then to him, they’re just two nobles in an arranged marriage who speak on dull subjects like the weather and horse rides…. And who barely interact.

This must have been a real big shake up, she always stays out of sight, they never run into each other by chance. And she certainly never would ask to sit and read with him…. Maybe watch him do his work from a hidden keyhole somewhere, but that’s right…. She IS more of a traditional lady with her hobbies. She was raised to be the perfect noble wife, so naturally, her hobbies include things like dancing, needlepoint, and horse riding. The only studies she’s interested in are etiquette and things that noble ladies are supposed to know.

Well…. Shit. That’s so like me to already have fucked this up. But that’s ok. That’s ok- he’s going to meet the female lead and fall in love and so I just have to be the obstacle they need to overcome. Surely the details don’t matter too much…. It’s my first day in the job ok? Not everyone’s perfect!

I find a book that honestly actually sounds interesting, it’s historical, but it’s giving Hellen of Troy, the closest to a dark romance I think I’ll get from an academic personal library like this. I settle into what looks like the comfiest chair in the central area, and begin reading. The prince and I exist comfortably, the only sound being the scratch of his pen, and the occasional rustle of paper as he flips a document or I finish a page. We continue like this for several hours until he puts down his pen and clears his throat, getting my attention.

“I know it’s a long way from dinner…. But I was thinking I’d grab something light for a mid day meal and then take a walk about the gardens …. Would you care to join me?”

Honestly, some lunch and pretty royal gardens sounds like so much fun, so I agree. As we begin walking, I ponder how I can recover from all this.

You know what.. this can totally still go to plan. This is just me being the evil villain and sinking my claws into him! The female lead will appear, and I’ll reveal my true, nasty side to her! She’ll have to fight to save the prince from his marriage to me!

*insert evil laughter!*

“You’re smiling.”

“W-what?”

“A smile. It suits you. You’ve been doing that a lot today….. I like it.”

Ok and now I’m blushing. I go to reply when I suddenly find myself weightless for a moment, and then hit the ground with a hard thump.

“Ow! What the-!?”

My eyes snap up and glare at this pretty blonde girl who just rammed into me, and sent me flying

“Do you not know how to watch where you’re going!? Owww…. Ugh.”

Ok I’m sorry I’m usually a nice and understanding person but I’ve never been literally knocked over before! Who does that to a person?

Eric helps me to my feet and sends a reproachful glare toward the girl, asking me if I’m alright with most concerned look…. And the girl gasps and says,

“C-crown prince Eric! I apologize! I’d didn’t recognize you!”

She drops into a curtsy and lowers her eyes all demure and modest as if she hadn’t just bulldozed me. I send an incredulous look toward Eric…. She… didn’t see HIM? I’m the one she took out? He gives me an equally puzzled look and so I decide, you know what, fuck it. I’m this evil person in this world…. I need to act like it!

“And not recognizing his highness is an excuse for taking out the princess consort, soon to be crown princess? Are you blind or just daft?”

Oh my god I really just called someone daft! This feels like when you stay up late thinking all the witty comebacks you could’ve used against your high school bullies, except actually using them in the moment!

And Eric is being a sweetie and letting me handle this, waiting expectantly for blondie to answer me, just prompting her,

“Well?”

“Forgive me…. Princess consort…. You are right. My oversight in inexcusable. It appears neither of us were looking where we were going. I hope we can start fresh!”

I scoff- that’s it? Who does this bitch think she is? Yes, I was looking at Eric, but I was going a walking pace, who rounds a corner with so much force that you knock someone over?

Suddenly something clicks- oh shit! This is the female lead!!!! This scene happened in the story, just without the prince here. This is good, that means this is on track. Although I gotta say- I was much more on the female main characters side when reading it. Now, I just feel like she’s one of those mean girls in high school who’s not *technically* doing anything mean. Anyways- what was I supposed to say? That’s right.

“Yes…. Well. I’m sure we won’t be seeing much of each other anyways. If you’ll excuse me-“

Nailed ittttt…. Now her line?

“Well, actually…. My name is Lady Cressida, and I’ll be staying in the place for several months as my father is a foreign ambassador overseeing trade agreements with his highness the king. So I imagine we will be seeing *plenty* of each other. That goes for you too your highness! So please- forgive me, I look forward to getting to know each of you better!”

Oh that’s so cool, seeing her recite the lines from the story. But ok- I have a role to play as well. I scoff and grab Eric’s arm, pulling him behind me as I storm off, playing the part of entitled lover, stuck up and irritated at this ambassadors daughter who DARED to speak to my love.

Yea, this will work, Eric will think Cressida is a genuine sweetie, and see me as being the unreasonable bitch who’s refusing to accept her apology, or apologize for not looking where I was going either. And now I’m manhandling him- totally unlady like. God I’m killing this aren’t I? Minimum wage job and demanding cat, here I come!

What I don’t see, as I lead Eric by the arm, is the cold glare he shoots towards Cressida, before smiling down at our connected hands, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Part 2

SERIES IS DISCONTINUED- sorry y’all, just not inspired to write this anymore and don’t wanna force it.

[jamminvroomvroom]

as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 2

LN x fem!leclerc reader

PART 2 OF 2 -> read part 1 linked HERE!

here we go again guys, you know the drill! follows directly on from part 1 because of the silly word count :(

warnings: warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!)

part 2: 6.1k words

8. i have you.

“you never told me why.” lando blurts.

the sun is setting outside, the pair of you sprawled out over your hotel bed. he’d been in your room for a few hours, tangled with you between the linen sheets. it’s thursday in brazil, and he’d made a beeline for your hotel room after media day wrapped up. he couldn’t explain the anxiety he felt, pooling thickly in the pit of his belly, but it subsided as soon as he saw your pretty face, peeking through the crack in your door.

he’d stayed after, a habit that had been developing of late, when you were both at home in monaco, but it was unusual on a race weekend. you’d pulled out your laptop to do some work, and chucked the remote at him, telling him to put something on netflix. he’d just smiled and obliged, more than willing to stay with you.

“told you ‘why’ what?” you look up from your laptop, confused.

“why you haven’t really been with anyone else.” his voice is small, scared he’s overstepping but he figures he’s seen you naked one too many times to get shy.

“oh.”

you stare off into the dim light of the room for a second, collecting your thoughts, reliving it all.

“you don’t need to tell me, sorry if that was weird-“

“no, uh, it’s fine. it’s a bit tragic really, embarrassing.” you start. “there was a guy, a couple of years ago. he was on my course at uni. he was perfect, flowers on my doorstep once a week, romantic dinners overlooking the harbour.” you reminisce, smiling sadly. “we went on a few dates and he was selling it all perfectly, it was like he was telling me everything i wanted to hear. i trusted him, so i slept with him. it was my first time.” your breath hitches. “next thing i know, he’s telling everyone that will listen that he’s best friends with charles leclerc and that he’s fucked an f1 drivers sister. and, you know, monaco is small. charles and arthur beat the shit out of him.” you laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, which are now glossed over with fresh, stinging tears.

lando slides closer to you, tentatively wrapping an arm over your shoulder.

“it’s always been hard, you know? people trying to get close to me so that they could get close to charles. all my life, it’s been the same shit. i just wanted someone to want me for me, just once.”

you’re crying now, and lando wants to die for causing it.

“hey, ‘m so sorry, honey. i shouldn’t have asked.” he shushes you, pulling you close. he kisses the top of your head gently, and you snuggle further into him.

“no, it’s okay. wanted you to know. that’s why i like this. us.” it comes out just above a whisper.

“that’s why i like us too.” he murmurs. you look up at him, scanning his face.

“what’s your story? charles said something to me once about a bad breakup.” you ask softly. lando sighs.

“she wanted the lifestyle more than she wanted me.” he shrugs.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. i’m better off.” i have you, he wants to add.

“i like the fact that we can’t hurt eachother that way.” you breathe, voicing the sentiment that you’ve both shared since the very first time you were together.

“i like it too, honey. more than you know.”

-

9. ache.

a weight lifts off of him in vegas.

brazil had been a shit show, one that he wanted to forget. one that left him awake for two days avoiding your calls, until you snapped him out of it by showing up at his place anyway, and giving him the best head of his fucking life. he’d slept like a damn baby after that.

he had a week off, after, which he spent in your bed more than his own, and then he was promptly off to nevada, awaiting your arrival a few days later and fixated on clawing something back after brazil, even if it was just pride.

well, that fixation didn’t amount to much, but at least you were there, somewhere, watching and waiting. charles is a wreck, though, storming away from parc ferme, which means you’ll be with him, instead of with lando. he feels selfish at the way it stings.

he’s exhausted when he leaves the track, dead on his feet in the elevator up to his room. he can’t bring himself to join max or george and celebrate. he’ll make it up to both of them another time. his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, recognising your contact. he doesn’t even fight the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

packed something special for you. you gonna come find out what?

he’s in love with you. has been for a while.

the attention you pay to him for himl, the way you tease him and laugh with him and let him lose himself in unravelling you. your quick wit, mesmerising eyes, the way you switch languages when he scrambles your brain and you can’t think hard enough to keep speaking english. he’s a goner, and he knows it.

he doesn’t bother replying, just makes a beeline for your room. he’s spent enough time in it already this weekend to make it there without much thought. you’d even left him a keycard, which he retrieves with nimble fingers from his wallet, letting himself into your suite.

he calls your name, rounding the corner and he could die right there, just at the sight of you.

you’re lamplit, knelt on the middle of your bed, wrapped in nothing but intricate, baby pink lace.

“my god.” he pants, jaw dropped. you’re ethereal, gorgeous, a delicate gift wrapped up just for him to open.

“do you like it?” your eyes are wide, daunted.

“what the fuck did i do to deserve you?” he stalks to the end of the bed, shrugging off his jacket, his hoodie, until he’s left in a white vest and team joggers. he kneels down at the foot of the bed, ready to crawl over you. “i love it.”

you flush, grinning sweetly as he crawls over you, pushing you back into the mattress.

“you did this all for me?” lando asks, stroking over a lacy bra strap.

“thought you deserved it.” you purr, but your facade slips for just a minute. “is this okay? never done this before.” you glance up at him with round, doe eyes that make him swallow hard, melting further into you.

“‘s perfect.” he promises. “you’re so perfect.”

lando kisses you softly, his warm skin pressing into yours. you moan quietly into his mouth, holding him close. he thumbs over the lace adorning your bust, stroking it. you squirm every time he brushes your skin.

“wanna be on top. wanna try it.” you pant into his mouth, watching closely as he groans, eyes fluttering as he imagines the sight.

“only if you keep this on.” he bargains, flipping the pair of you over.

you sit up on his lap, smoothing your hands over his chest as his find your hips. he steadies you, playing with the band of your panties, tracing over the pattern.

“can’t believe you did this all for me.” lando coos, taking the opportunity to take it all in, you, flustered and breathtaking, straddling him. dressed up all for him, all his.

“you deserve it.”

“do you think you’re ready for me? lemme see.” his hand skates between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against the crotch of your underwear. he applies pressure against the wet patch that he feels, licking his lips. “were you thinking about me when you were getting all dressed up? thinking about how i’d touch you?”

“yeah,” you nod frantically, grinding down on his fingers. “wanted you all day but i wanted to be good for you.” you pout. you’re gonna kill him, he thinks.

“always good for me.” he applies more pressure, toying with your clit through the lace, the sensation making you quiver, bucking your hips.

“just want you inside of me, lando. i’m ready.” you plead, palming over his sweats. your hand travels further, finding his between your legs. you tug your underwear to the side, and he feels just how wet you are for him.

“you sure, baby?”

there he goes again. baby. your tummy twists.

“yeah, lan, i want it to hurt a little.” you sound so sweet for him and it shreds the rest of his self restraint.

lando sits up just enough to rip off his vest, taps your thigh so that you lift up for a second, long enough for him to shrug off his sweats. when he’s bare, he paws at your hips, helping you to adjust. your fingers wrap around his length and he jolts, mouth falling open as you swipe the head of him through your slit. you sink down, taking just the tip, but it feels like the first time all over again, the angle creating delicious pressure that burns through your pelvis. your eyes squeeze shut and he swirls his fingers over your sides.

“take it easy for me, love.” lando urges, looking up at you with concern.

“i like it. promise.” you choke out, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, the burn.

you continue to slide down on him, sinking further and further until you’re flush against his pelvis. you roll your hips experimentally, your clit brushing against the thatch of hair at his base and you squirm, sensitive.

“want me to help?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“wanna do this for you.” you pant, rocking your hips against his.

the angle is brutal, so intoxicatingly good, and you can already feel yourself leaking all over him. you build up a rhythm, slow and steady, watching the ripple of his abs everytime you sink back down on him, the way his curls fan over his forehead, the veins in his arms bulging as he grips at your waist tighter and tighter.

“you look so pretty, baby, taking me like this.” lando sighs, helping you pick up the pace. you cry out, leaning backwards, fingers gripping his firm thighs.

“it’s so good, you feel so good.” you whine, arching your back.

he’s entranced by the way your breasts bounce, fighting against the skimpy bra and he sinks his teeth into his plush bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily. one hand leaves your waist and travels to the cups of your bra, tugging so harshly that you hear the threads break. he frees your tits, watching in delight as they fall out of the lace confines.

“you’re so sexy, honey, look so beautiful. you’re all mine, aren’t you? this is all for me, right?” lando’s eyes roll back in his head when he feels the way you clamp down around him at his words. he’s gonna fill you up, he thinks, mark you as his from the inside out.

“yeah, lan, all yours.” you slur, fighting the urge to cum. “‘m all yours.”

he can see that you’re tiring, the ache setting in, so he pulls you forward, until you’re chest to chest, wrapped up his his thick arms.

“i’ve got you, baby.” he swears, holding you close as he rolls his hips, fucking up into you.

it’s all too much like this, the constant pressure on your clit, the head of his cock tapping against your cervix, the thrumming of his heart, the cold sweat of his chest peaking your nipples. you let out a strangled cry of his name, and you see white, your nerve endings overstimulated and fried. all you can hear is his voice, pulling your through it and out the other side.

“did so good for me, baby, such a good girl. took it all so well, love.”

you’re limp on top of him, a dead weight curled around him like a life force. there’s nothing that could make him move you, and wouldn’t let you go unless you asked. you lay there in silence, your mixed release leaking out of you. your heart rate steadies, about as much as it can with him around, and you feel yourself blinking away sleep, exhausted. lando notices, of course he does.

“let’s clean up.” he suggests, sitting up carefully with you on his lap.

“carry me?” you request sleepily, a lazy smile painting your face.

“as you wish.” he jokes, bowing his head.

your legs wrap around his waist as he shuffles off of the bed, and he walks to the bathroom, setting you down on the marble sink top. he leans into the shower, adjusting the temperature and turning the water on. he lets it heat up and turns back to you. no words are exchanged as he peels your ruined panties off, as he unhooks your bra and drops its all onto the counter. he tugs you off of the side, guiding your under the stream of water, the warmth making you relax into him. he’s more than happy to prop you up.

“my legs ache.” you giggle, resting your cheek against his shoulder.

“was it worth it?”

“definitely.”

“good.”

he cleans you, massaging soap into your skin, and washing it off. you stay close while he does the same for himself, passing him different products as you clean up together. it’s quiet, nothing needs to be said, and you wonder if this is what life with him would be like. domestic and easy.

“stay.” you let yourself ask, croaking the request out into the silence. you’re both drying off, and he’s gathering he’s clothes.

“i thought you’d want me to go.” he looks like a deer in headlights. cute.*

“stay.” your repeat, and this time it sounds like a plea. he slides his boxers on.

“okay.”

he’s like a furnace under the covers and you can’t help but curl into his side, legs wrapping around eachothers. there’s no going back from this, you fear. he’s thinking the same thing. you kiss his chest as you fall asleep, just a quick press of your lips to his pec, but it makes him hot all over. if the lights were still on, you’d see him blushing. he returns the favour with careful peck to your hairline. you both nuzzle impossibly closer.

“has it ever been like that for you?” you whisper into the darkness. you hear the change in his breathing.

the question is loaded; have you ever felt like this before? was that just sex to you? what are we? what is this? do you want me how i want you?

“never.” it’s barely a whisper

you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

-

when you wake up, he stirs, bronzed arms tightening around you.

“go back to sleep.” he grumbles, pulling your back to his chest.

“i need to catch my flight.” you reply, turning around to face him.

you’re stunned when you see him smushed into the pillow, lips pouty, eye lashes fluttering to clear away sleep. he looks so pretty in the morning light, and you wish you’d asked him to stay the night sooner.

“just fly with me.” lando mutters. you freeze.

“lan, you know i can’t do that. what would that look like?”

“who cares?” he half shrugs behind you, and you wriggle away, sit up in bed.

“uh, me? i care, lando. i can’t be seen flying around with some other driver, do you know how much that would complicate things?”

“some other driver.” he huffs. that gets his attention, and he sits up. “what so we can sneak around, and you’ll let me fuck you, but being on an airplane together is crossing the line?” he grunts sarcastically. you narrow your eyes at him.

“don’t say it like that.” you scold.

“how should i say it, then? i thought maybe this meant something more to you.” he’s standing from the bed now, hurt thick in his voice, and you panic, reaching out for him, but he’s finding his clothes.

“it does! it does mean something to me but… lando, i can’t put charles in that position. i can’t put myself in that position.” you reason weakly, standing and rapidly moving towards him. you pull him to face you, holding onto his shoulders. “don’t go, please.” you whisper, cupping his cheek.

he stares down at you, dejected, a wounded animal, and pushes your hands off of him.

“i, uh. i care about you. a lot. too much, i think. i can’t go through this again, and you can’t hurt your brother. so…” he breathes shakily.

“so?” you plead, shaking your head. “don’t do this, we can…”

“i’m not gonna be ‘some other driver’, honey. ‘m sorry.”

“lando-“

“its okay. this was good while it lasted, and i know you’re gonna find what you’re looking for, without all of the, uh,” he gestures around blindly. “the complications.”

“don’t go.” you whisper, catching his hand. tears pool in the corners of your eyes, distorting him.

“go catch your flight.” he smiles sadly, finally dressed, and then he’s gone.

you stand frozen, taking stock of whatever the fuck just happened.

i care about you.

good while it lasted.

you’re gonna find what you’re looking for.

complications.

you choke out a sob, stumble backwards onto the foot of your bed when it hits you.

you’d already found what you were looking for, and now, he was gone.

-

you’re supposed to go straight to qatar with charles, but you beg him to get you a flight home instead.

he can hear that you’ve been crying, and tells you that he’ll kill anyone that you need him to. you promise it’s fine, through even more tears, tell him that you’ll fill him in when he’s got a minute to breathe.

the ticket lands in your inbox and you flee. you spend the twelve hour flight watching love actually, crying into a glass of wine, and wondering if you should get gracie abrams’ lyrics tattooed on your forehead.

i love you, i’m sorry would be quite fitting right about now.

when you land, you don’t even go home, making a beeline for alex and charles’ apartment instead. when alex lets you in, confused to see your face, leo does laps around your feet. you drop your bags and fall into her arms, sob until your throat is raw and your eyes are bloodshot.

“i fucked up.” you wail, breathing hard.

“lando?” she asks, tentative. she has a knowing look, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head.

“what? how did you-“

“well let’s just say that we saw the DM he sent you, and arthur was actually sat opposite me when you said you were with him.” she admits. you gasp.

“does charles… does he…?”

“oh, sweetie, charles knows nothing. although he did ask me what shoe size you wear after coming to your place a few weeks back. he said something about a pair of birkenstocks that looked huge compared to your other shoes, and i told him that was just the style.” she snorts, and you slap your hand over your forehead.

“oh, jesus.” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“wanna tell me what happened?”

“i don’t even know, he asked me to fly with him and then i said it would complicate things, that i couldn’t been seen with, quote on quote, ‘some other driver.’” you sigh.

“some other driver? oh, girl.”

“yep.”

“were you guys dating…? or?”

“no! lately things had been a bit more,” you pause, gathering your thoughts. “intimate? i don’t know. i definitely have feelings for him.”

alex looks at you sympathetically, strokes your knee soothingly.

“have you told him that?”

“no, i didn’t know how and now he’s done with me.” you wince, a fresh wave of tears pricking your eyes.

“maybe not, sweetie, maybe you if you told him how you felt, he’d understand. is charles what you’re worried about?”

“charles, the fans, all of it.” you whimper.

“the fans can be, well, intense, but take it from me, if lando’s worth it, none of that matters. is he worth it?”

you pause, weighing it all up. the way he’d been with you, so gentle and caring, considerate and interested in you. he’d made you feel safe and satisfied, and everytime you caught him looking at you, you felt that first initial spark all over again. you could laugh with him, push and tease and not just be charles leclerc’s little sister. you look forward to seeing him, feeling him, speaking to him. all of this together feels heavy, but you want to bear it.

“he is.” you whisper, looking at alex nervously. “oh, god, what do i do?”

“i think there’s a paddock pass with your name on it that you should make use of.” she tells you, wrapping you in a tight hug. “and if charles has a problem, tell him he has to go through me.”

-

10. pizza and pasta.

max fewtrell sips his coffee in the hotel lobby, waiting for keegan to join him. it’s hot in qatar, dry and bright, ornate.

his phone buzzes.

message request from: yourusername

HI SORRY ARE YOU IN QATAR????

he probably looks like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his skull.

another message comes through.

this sounds insane and i’m sorry that this is like, the first time we’ve ever spoken, but i need a huge favour. like a really really huge favour.

max scratches the back of his head, pulling a face at his phone. baffled wouldn’t even begin to cover how he feels.

he picks up his phone, and opens the messages.

-

lando over exerts himself keeping away from you. the sprint race had been a breeze compared to staying away, out of your reach. it hurts like hell, but it’s a necessary evil for both your sakes.

he wants to sleep, do nothing else but collapse onto his mattress, phone silenced and curtains drawn as tightly shut as they can go. he unlocks the door to his hotel room. the light flashes green, and he relaxes, finally. until, he doesn’t.

there’s a faint sound coming from down the short corridor that separates his front door from his sleeping area. it’s not max, he’s just left him outside his own hotel room, and it’s not keegan, either, for the same reason. he wonders if he has another stalker, braces himself and picks up the first thing he can find. a shoe. useless, he thinks.

lando creeps down the corridor, poised and ready, jumps out of his skin when you round the corner before he can get there. you yelp, bracing yourself against the wall.

“what the fuck, i thought you were a murderer!” lando huffs, throwing his head back.

somehow, the sight of you is worse than any murderer could ever be.

“putain! god, i’m so sorry! so sorry!” you squeak.

“how did you get in here?”

“funny story,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look harmless. “max let me in.”

“verstappen?” lando asks, face twisting with confusion.

“no, idiot. fewtrell.” you reply, duh-like. “i can go, i know this is crazy and weird and a total violation, but i had to talk to you.” your voice softens and lando seems to finally relax. he’ll kill max later.

“this is batshit, actually, but i respect the grind.” lando shrugs. “what do you want?” he sounds harsher than intended, closed off, but you suppose you deserve it.

“i’m sorry about what happened last weekend.” you inhale shakily. “i… i care about you a lot, too, and i have done for a while but i was too scared to say it. i realised as soon as you left that i never ever wanna hurt you like that. never want you to feel like i don’t lo- care about you… like that.” you catch yourself, not ready to say certain words. he gets the gist.

“i don’t wanna be some hookup anymore. it was fine at first, when i thought that’s all i could have from you, but i know that it’s not. i want you.” lando states, his words poignant. “whatever pace you need, whatever you want from me, i wanna give it to you.”

the space between you dissipates.

“i saw you, you know, watching me from your garage all those months ago, like you were trying place me.” your voice is barely above a whisper. “admittedly, i kinda wanted to punch you for ruining that dress, but i also, really really secretly thought you were cute.”

“well, if we’re being honest, i really wanted to fuck you the first time i saw you.” he jokes crudely, and you slap his chest. “in my defence, i was blackout drunk.”

“asshole.” you mutter. you’re so close now that his nose bumps yours.

“i think you like it.” he whispers.

“yeah, i really do.”

your lips meet his urgently, homecoming. it’s been too long since you’ve had him in your hands, touched him and felt him breathe against you. the kiss is passionate, frantic, and you know you’re in love with him. you’re certain.

-

an hour later, you’re tucked into bed with him, a movie that you’re not paying attention to playing idly on the tv. pizza crusts lay on a plate, the leftovers of your impromptu dinner date.

you’ve covered your degree, how he got into racing, what you do for work, who you’re friends are, family dynamics.

you learn that his favourite colour actually is yellow, and he learns that you’re favourite drink is red wine. he prefers pizza, you prefer pasta. you like flat whites, and he doesn’t like coffee at all.

“after abu dhabi, i’ll take you on a real date. i promise.” he sounds excited as he says it, and you melt into his side.

“oh yeah?” you ask, looking up at him, your cheeks smushed against his shoulder. he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. he just hums in response, gazing down at you.

“gonna talk to your brothers as well.” he murmurs, dipping down to peck your lips.

“not just yet.” you whisper. he furrows his eyebrows.

“why?” he doesn’t sound upset, maybe a little deflated.

“i wanna enjoy this a bit longer, at least go on a real date before, you know, they kill you.” you keep your tone serious, holding it together well. he bursts out laughing, squeezing you closer.

“and here i was worried that you were ashamed of me.” he’s grinning toothily, boyish and pure, and you kiss him again, deeper.

“never.” you coo.

-

11. daylight.

abu dhabi is a distant memory by the time you get back to monaco. you were happy for your brother and your boyfriend.

yeah, that’s what you get to call him now.

your first date had been effortless and yet so intricately perfect, lando planning it down to the last detail. flowers delivered to you the morning of, picking you up at the door, telling you just how beautiful you looked. your table had been waiting for you, candlelit, dressed immaculately. a bottle of red wine served as the centrepiece, your favourite kind. swoon.

he orders pizza, you order pasta. halfway through, you switch plates.

you wake up the next morning in his arms, content and satiated, still bare from the night before. your phone is buzzing, stirring your both out of your deep sleep. you ignore it.

“c’mere.” he begs, breath fanning out across your neck and you wriggle backwards, further into his arms. your naked skin moulds with his, and you can feel him, ready and waiting against the curve of your ass. he’s still half asleep, and so are you, but you spread your legs just enough for him to swipe himself through your folds and slip right in.

you groan at the stretch, he shushes you soothingly, clinging to your frame. everything is so warm and heightened.

“so ready for me.” he whispers, kissing over your shoulder, hips making the most minimal, languid thrusts that make you dizzy.

“want you like this every morning.” you purr, hiking your top leg up even further. he’s basically on top of you now, his body half covering yours.

lando drags your hips back to meet his, breathing heavily against the back of your neck.

“anytime you want me ‘m here. ‘m yours.” lando mutters, eyes rolling back in his head when you clench around him. lewd sounds are exchanged between your lazy bodies, so worked up, two powder kegs desperate to explode.

it happens in waves, powerful orgasms washing over your bodies like the sunlight through the curtains. it’s bright and warm and leaves you buzzing underneath him, electrified.

“good morning.” you smirk, rolling over to face him.

he’s already sunk back down into the mattress, a satisfied grin on his face, eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks where his eyes have fallen shut. he looks angelic, and if it wasn’t for his devious ways, you’d hail him a saint.

“very good morning, baby.” lando pants, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“you look so pretty.” you breathe, raking your nails through his hair. he groans, shivers of pleasure radiating through his scalp and down his back.

“not as pretty as you.” he surges forward, pinning you to the bed, the pair of you a hazy mess of limbs and laughter, so wrapped up in eachother. he’s peppering you with kisses, all over you face and your chest, further and further down your body.

round two is about to commence, and you’re more than excited, ready to welcome him back between your thighs, when you both here a loud, repetitive thud coming from faraway. lando pulls back, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“is that the door?” he says to himself. “sorry, baby. need to get that.” he frowns apologetically. you sigh, waving your hand in understanding, watching as he grabs a robe.

-

charles nearly chokes on air and fury when he gets the all caps message from arthur, followed by one from lorenzo, then his publicist.

arthur: HAVE YOU SEEN TWITTER? i don’t know if i should laugh or cry

enzo: be nice to her, don’t be a little bitch

publicist: Charles, we will need to address this news immediately and conclude whether the photos are out of context or not. Meeting scheduled on the shared calendar.

first question: what fucking photos? did someone catch him picking his nose in public?

second question: who does he need to be nice too?

third question: can he not go five fucking minutes without some impending media crisis?

he opens twitter and doesn’t need to look hard, because there on his screen is a picture taken the night before of his precious baby sister, and there is lando fucking norris with his tongue down her throat.

alex asks him where he’s going, watching him storm out keys in hand. he doesn’t respond with anything but a growl and a mutter of your name. alex’s eyes go wide, reached for her phone.

to: your number

girl he knows! idk how but he KNOWS!

for once in your life PICK UP THE PHONE

JESUS OKAY i just saw twitter…

OKAY im tracking charles location rn and looks like he’s near lando’s?

MISS LECLERC PLEASE! HELLO?????

it was nice knowing you babe.

-

you pick up your phone as lando leaves the room, scrolling absentmindedly through your notifications. your interest peaks, however, when you see about a million texts from alex, and even more missed call. in fact, you have literally thousands of notifications, and your blood runs cold.

you’d been so careful last night, surely it hadn’t leaked. your blood runs cold when you open your text chain with alex. the aggressive knocking on the door suddenly makes harrowing sense and you spring from the mattress just in time to hear the front door click.

“is she here?” you hear charles bellow, voice laced thickly with anger.

“uh… who?” lando tries, he really does, but he’s not a good liar. you wince, grabbing anything to cover your dignity: lando’s sweats and a t-shirt. you scramble out of the bedroom, sliding down the corridor from the sheer speed you’re moving at.

“fucking hell.” charles sighs, wincing at the sight of you. “of all the people on the planet, you pick my rival? you pick him?” charles barks at you. you close your eyes, focusing on your breathing as your chest constricts. “i told you. i specifically told you not to mess around with him, and c’mon, i don’t ask you for much.” charles throws his hands out in frustration.

“charles, listen to me,” you keep your voice calm and steady. “we’re not messing around, we… we’re together.” you confirm, watching his jaw tick.

“together? with him? do you know how many girls probably think they’re in a relationship with him? half of the portuguese modelling industry is linked to him.” charles laughs incredulously, disgusted. your eyes narrow, watching lando crumble into a million pieces in your peripheral.

“don’t you dare ruin this for me! and how can you come into his house and speak to him that way? my god, charles, you don’t get it, do you? i can never be happy with anyone because of you! everyone, everyone, uses me to get to you and, god, i finally found someone who cares about me and couldn’t give less of a shit about who you are and you don’t approve? shall i stay single and lonely and in your shadow forever? should i go for some greasy hedge fund legacy who wants to fuck any leclerc he can get his hands on? huh? i’m sorry if you don’t approve, truly, i am, but you will not have a say in this.”

charles stays silent, as does lando, the only sound in the hallway being your heavy breathing, a symptom of your monologue. you feel the ghost of lando’s touch on your waist, soothing you from your outburst, and you lean into his touch, looking up at him. his eyes are reassuring, the only source of comfort.

charles watches intently, the silent communication between you both, and it knocks him for six. ultimately, he wants you to be happy, but it begs the question: can lando make you happy? the way you truly deserve? he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, lets out a muttered string of expletives.

“will you look after her?” he stares daggers at lando, watches the way the brit straightens up.

“i will.” lando nods firmly, eyes sincere.

“and you won’t hurt her? you won’t fuck her around?” charles looks like he’s desperately pleading, but his voice is commanding, no margin for error.

“i promise.”

“and you’ll make her happy?”

“i’d do anything for her.”

your head snaps towards lando, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking the dam. charles watches closely, steps backwards towards the door. there isn’t space for him here right now.

“okay. i- okay.” you watch the way charles backs down, and he finally meets your eyes again. “ma chére, je suis désolé.” he tells you solemnly. you nod, lips in a thin, hard line. you can feel lando nudge you forward.

“come here, loser.” you groan, opening your arms for your brother. charles meets you half way, squeezes you tight. he gently kisses your forehead and turns to leave, not before shooting lando a look that says ‘i’m watching you.’

you turn back to your newfound boyfriend, tears still falling, but you pay them no mind.

“well done, baby.” he affirms, thumbing away your tears.

“i love you, lando.” you whisper, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” his eyes glaze over, total adoration swirling in the pools of green.

“so glad you said that because i absolutely love you too.” he laughs, hauling you in for a kiss. it’s a mess of tears and laughter and a weird sense of serenity.

“you might wanna call your publicist. pictures of last night leaked.” you mumble against his lips.

“at least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” he shrugs. “i’ll call later. got things to do.” he picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder. you squeal, and he teasingly slaps your ass.

you catch sight of the apartment as he walks you through it, and you think about the first time you saw it, under the cover of darkness, covert and clandestine.

you much prefer it in the light of day.

you prefer lando in the light of day, too.

yourusername and landonorris just posted on instagram:

liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and others.

yourusername: oops!

comments on this post have been disabled.

-

thank god that’s over lmfao - thank you for reading!!

taglist

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[miaoua3]

Stay The Night?

Pairing: CEO! Choi Seungcheol x f!reader

Genre: shamless smut (MDNI), piv sex, oral (both receiving), mentions of the ex (ew), hickeys and scratches, no protection (don’t be silly wrap the willy guys, don’t make me smack you all),marking in general, possessive choi seungcheol, smallest amount of spanking, squirting

Description: after spending the night with the CEO and (unsuccessfully) trying to sneak away, Choi Seungcheol asks you to stay the whole day and later on, even the night. Will you say yes?

Or

Basically part 2 to “Stay The Morning?”

Note: late present from me to you for 1000 followers on tumblr and 10k on tiktok🥰🫶 and also because i had the chance of smelling creed aventus aka the perfume cheol uses more regularly than the one i smelled that inspired part one of this and i got the urge to suck this mans dick so….bon appetit🥰

Warnings: yet again barely proofread lol im sorry i just hate doing that

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”

and who were you to deny him anything?

well, you were you, and so naturally you cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side as a playful smile spreads on your face, in a mockingly offended voice you said “i’m not taking anything off or letting you anywhere near me until you brush your teeth and feed me something. what, you thought the last night was completely free? you’re a businessman, you should know better honey.”

cheol chuckles deeply as he stretches, the blanket slowly sliding down his bare torso, giving you a delicious view of his chest, ribs becoming more prominent the further he reaches with his hands above his head.

groaning in satisfaction, he then throws the whole blanket off of him before sitting on the edge of the bed, softly messing with his bed hair. looking at you with the cutest smile, he then gets up.

in only his boxers. the muscles all over his body softly flexing. his thighs looking deliciously big as he takes the slow steps towards you.

sweet baby jesus.

the moment he’s standing right in front of you in his naked glory, you feel your throat go dry with need and desire.

well i’ll be damned, i already got my christmas present, and it’s not even december.

almost as if he can sense your thoughts, cheol chuckles deeply before quickly dipping his head lower so he can press a gentle kiss on your neck, his tongue lightly grazing your skin. goosebumps irrupt all over your skin at his action, a shaky breath leaving your mouth as he moves away a little, just enough for his face to end up right in front of your own.

staring at your eyes, his own a deep shade of brown, almost black with desire, cheol slowly exhales, almost like he’s trying to control himself.

stretching to his original height, he then takes ahold of your dress with his fingers, lightly tugging on it.

“you should go take a shower while i make breakfast, this dress must be uncomfortable to wear. i will have someone deliver you some clothes before you’re done in the bathroom.”

you raise an eyebrow, amusement playing in your eyebrows.

“or you could, y’know, give me one of your shirts. like all the normal guys do.”

something dark suddenly appears in his eyes, the little smile that has been tugging on the edges of his lips disappears at your words.

he takes another slow step towards you, so that there’s barely any space left between your warm bodies. looking down on you, he darkly says “i’m not like other men. you should know that until know, baby.”

you swallow hardly, but not out of fear or anything like that.

you swallow because that was so fucking sexy of him.

good lord, i need him again, as soon as possible.

he then slowly kisses your cheek, like a gentleman that he is, before he takes ahold of your hand and starts pulling you out of the bedroom.

“c’mon, i’ll show you where the bathroom is and how everything works. any special wishes for breakfast? anything you prefer or not? allergies? would you like coffee or tea maybe?”

you chuckle at his questions, quickly stopping him to gently kiss his cheek before looking at him with your doe eyes.

“coffee is fine, i’m not that big on breakfast but you have spent all of my energy last night, so maybe something light but filling would be good. and i’m not allergic to anything, not that i know at least. now, before you start to terrorise the kitchen, brush your teeth, romeo.”

you push him through the entrance of the bathroom door, his skin soft and gentle to the touch as you do so.

cheol just chuckles before he starts rummaging through his drawers, finally finding you a spare toothbrush so you both can get rid of the morning breath.

as you stand side by side, dutifully brushing your teeth, you both sneak glances of each other in the mirror.

you eyes focus on his bare chest and how they move with every little movement, how his soft stomach jiggles a bit too, as well as the dark happy trail on his lower stomach. the way his biceps pops put by him holding his arms so high is just as delicious as the rest of him.

his own eyes are trained on your face, how beautiful it looks with barely any makeup from last night left. but also because he’s only a man after all, he lets his eyes also travel down your body, lingering on how your boobs jiggle as you continue brushing your teeth.

what can he say, he’s a weak man.

after you’re done, you kick him out of the bathroom in order to take a quick shower, almost letting a “wanna join me?” slip out of your mouth, but he leaves before you can do as much.

the warm water feels amazing on your aching muscles, relaxing you so much so that you almost fall asleep while standing.

after a few minutes, you finish up in the shower, looking around for the clothes that he promised you, but to no avail.

just as you open the door to yell for help, you notice a bag waiting for you on the doorstep.

opening it, your jaw drops at what you find inside.

white lingerie. with a white slip on and a white silky robe, accompanied by white house slippers.

this sneaky little-

“so, is this what the big-shot and ceo of the prestigious company, choi seungcheol, dreams at night? what he lusts for and what he desires?”, you say as you walk in the kitchen, crossing your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him as you wait for an answer, signaling to your outfit with your head.

cheol just smiles innocently, his eyes just two lines from how wide he’s smiling.

“no, this is what a simple man who you have wrapped around your finger, cheol, dreams of.”

you roll your eyes with a smile at the smoothness of his answer, failing to add anything else to his answer.

he then pulls out a chair and points with his hand for you to sit on it. not used to this type of treatment from men, you almost giggle as you sit down.

he sits right beside you, taking your plate in his hand and slowly filling it with all the food that he made (which is way too much amount of food for two people, or so you think until you see him devour everything like he hasn’t eaten in months.)

you chat lightly as you eat, laughing at some of his very badly made jokes-is the laugh out of pity or because he’s just so cute? you will never tell know.

“so, any plans for today?”, he suddenly asks you.

you look up, pondering for a moment if you had anything planned, but nothings comes to mind.

“no, not really. maybe clean my apartment a bit? haven’t done that in a minute, understandably so.”, you chuckle emotionlessly, thinking about how your heartbreak prevented you from functioning normally.

cheol just gives you a weird look, not understanding why you would say that.

it is in that moment that you realise that he doesn’t know anything that has happened with your ex three weeks ago.

you reluctantly sigh, looking him directly in the eyes. “not to be party pooper, but i actually broke with my ex just a few weeks ago, because i found him cheating on me. with his coworker. in my bed. in my apartment. in my silk sheets. that i paid for. with my money.”

for a second there’s no sound coming from either of you, when you suddenly starts giggling a bit, wiping away a little imaginary tear, you continue “you could say that i’m a bit bitter-“, and then you take a look at him.

cheol just looks at you, or rather somewhere past you, his eyes murderous, hand gripping his fork so tightly it could snap in two any second.

your breath catches in your throat, an unfamiliar emotion overcoming you.

finally looking you directly in the eyes, still with the same look in them, he asks darkly “what’s his name?”

you gulp, looking away as you quietly say “it’s not important, I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

sensing that your mood has changed for the worse, cheol breathes in deeply and then out as a way to calm himself down before taking your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he quietly says “for the record, he doesn’t realise just what hell of a woman he lost. and that his loss is somebody else’s gain, so. he’s stupid, who in their right mind would cheat on you?”.

your eyes move to look at him, his eyebrows scrunched a bit as if this is hurting himself.

you can’t remember the last time that a man went out of his way to make you feel so seen and appreciated. it makes your heart do this weird thing. like it stops beating for a moment but also like it sped up by a big notch.

you smile gently at him before you lean towards him and, for the first time since you two woke up, gently kiss his lips for a moment.

pulling away, you just respond “let’s finish eating before it cools off.”

seungcheol, as if in a daze from your kiss, just nods a bit, a dopey smile taking up half of his face.

you quickly finish up, helping him put the dishes into the washer before he leads you to the humongous leather couch that is right in front of even more humongous tv.

he sits down first, right in the middle of it before he pulls you down. seemingly he had a vision for everything that is happening right now, because before you can even get comfortable, he pulls your legs over his thighs, letting a hand rest on the bare thigh, massaging it lightly as he wraps his other arm around your shoulders, your head falling on his shoulder as he does.

well, okay then you think to yourself as you wrap your own arm around his bare stomach, rubbing his hip gently.

he turns on the tv, more so as a background noise, before he starts asking you all sorts of questions- what your hobbies are, who the two friends from last night were, where you are from as in like the city, you favourite colour and many other questions, the weirdest one being “have you ever thought how the dogs think? like are they barking in their mind, or is it maybe english or korean? or whatever the language of the country they’re in is? what about deaf dogs?”

you spend hours talking and laughing, for the most part you. he tells you the stories of his childhood, stories of his brother and how he accidentally smacked him with a baseball bat on the hand which inevitably ended up being broken, how he fell from the tree, stories about his friends who he met in college and still talks to on the daily, calling them “his kids”, all while he traces the hickeys and bite marks on your neck and shoulders.

you two talk until your mouth gets dry and he fetches you a glass of water for it.

deciding that he should take a shower, he says that you can put whatever you want on the tv and watch it while he does so, saying he won’t take long before he disappears behind the door.

you turn something random on, a documentary you think??? when you suddenly realise that you haven’t been on your phone the entire time, just like you haven’t heard from your friends since the last night.

looking around for it, you find it on the little table in front of the large window, the one you stood in front of as seungcheol kissed you for the first time.

you turn it on to see hundreds of messages and missed calls from jihyo and sana.

the last message from your group chat read “that’s it, if she doesn’t answer in the next 10 minutes, i’m calling the police.”

the message was sent 7 minutes ago.

lucky.

you sheepishly reply with an “heyyy guys haha what’s up”

you immediately get spammed with the messages, variating from “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN” to “WAS THE DICK GOOD”.

i think it’s pretty clear which one of them sent which message.

you respond that you are still at cheol’s to jihyo’s message and that you probably will be home later tonight and that you can meet up then for the detailed story time of your escapades, and you respond with a photo of your collarbones and neck full of hickeys to sana’s message, sending a little wink emoji.

you can see that both of them are losing their minds, writing messages all in cap locks. just as you were about to read them all, you hear the door of the bathroom unlock.

you write a quick “gotta go, the man of the hour is back from his shower, gotta go and make him sweaty again ;)” before turning your phone off and focusing on him.

the sight makes you want get down on your knees and send a quick thank-you prayer to the god.

because there stood cheol, in all his naked and wet glory, black wet hair messily falling on his forehead.

and he only had a towel wrapped around his hips.

you unconsciously bite your lip as you watch him, sitting up straight as you see him walk towards you.

he finally stops right in front of you, his hips on the same level as your face. you go from looking at his happy trail to slowly raising your eyes to look him the eyes, his bulky form towering over you.

his dark eyes are trained on your face, his eyes as dark as midnight as he watches your teeth bite your lips in need.

his hand comes to your face, before his thumb slowly pulls on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.

you don’t put any effort in closing your lips, letting them stay agape.

the same thumb starts to rub your lip, lightly dipping inside your mouth, your tongue poking it unconsciously.

suddenly, in the deepest voice ever, he says two words that make you completely lose all your self control.

“pretty girl.”

you grab his arm and pull him down towards you. he gasps in shock as he starts falling down. luckily, he has fast reflexes, so he quickly grabs the backrest of the couch, so he’s bent over you.

you loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you can kiss him.

cheol groans the moment he feels your lips on his, tongue prodding, asking for entrance to his own mouth. he obviously grants it, making your tongues meet in a battle for dominance.

you try pulling him even closer, making him kneel with one knee between your own legs. it is a wonder that the towel still stayed on up until this point. adamant on changing that, you use one hand to harshly pull it away, making his half hard on spring free.

like a woman possessed, you quickly use your hold on his neck to pull him to the side, making him fall on the couch.

just as he adjusts so he’s sitting comfortably on it, you slowly stand up in front of him.

eyes trained on you, unblinking, cheol’s mouth fall open when he sees you taking off the white robe, proceeding to take the white slip off too.

cheol never believed in heaven, but as you stood in front of him, in white matching lacy lingerie, with all of his marks on your body from last night, looking like an angel, he truly started to believe that this is the closest to the heaven that he will get.

reaching with his hands towards you, so he can pull you on his lap, you lightly redirect them, holding them in your own.

you are apparently set on giving this man a heart attack at ripe age of 29, because you then proceed to drop to your knees.

right in front of him, between his legs.

with his hard dick right in front of your face.

his dark eyes, pupils blown with desire, trace every movement you make.

you first adjust your hair a bit, so it’s not getting in your way, looking at him with what he can only describe as hunger of a lioness.

keeping the eye contact, you slowly lick the whole palm of your hand, making sure that it’s extra wet with saliva.

cheol gulps.

the moment that that very same hand wraps around his dick, he’s throwing his head back, a loud gasp escaping him at how sensitive it feels. his back comes off the couch, hand looking for anything to grasp on, only finding his towel instead.

you pump him a few times, looking at him, focused solely on his face, to see how he’s reacting to your touch-to you.

his eyes flutter shut, a groan rumbling somewhere from the depths of his chest, his torso expanding with every deep breath he has to take in order to control himself and not cum on your face this very second.

god, that last thought didn’t help him, at all.

you pump his dick some more, your hand not even being able to wrap itself around his dick fully, making you shiver at the thought of having the very same dick inside of you later.

deciding that enough is enough, you slowly lower your face when he’s not paying attention, until your lips wrap themselves around the head of his cock.

cheol moans the second he feels your wet mouth on him.

his eyes barely open themselves, he basically forces himself to keep them open, watching as you slowly push your head down more and more, until half of his dick is inside your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you pull back up.

you repeat the motion a few times just as slowly as you did the first time, enjoying his moans and groans every time the head of his dick hits the back of your throat.

deciding that you want him to be a complete mess, you start bobbing your head faster, hand wrapping itself around the base that your mouth can reach.

god, do you love the fact that his dick is so big you can’t even suck it fully.

something you certainly couldn’t say about your ex.

your mouth engulfs him, the wetness of it making him see stars. and when your tongue does that little things where it first wraps around the head, before sliding along his slit, right where he’s the most sensitive?

cheol sends a prayer up in hopes that he won’t cum right this second.

a strand of hair falls into your face, making you scrunch your face in mild annoyance.

seungcheol jumping to opportunity, quickly gathers all of your hair in his hand, making a ponytail out of it.

and as you go on, bobbing your head up and down his dick, saliva sliding down til it reaches his balls. cheol uses his grip on your hair to control your movements, moving your head in fast pace. you choke repeatedly as his dick hits the back of your throat, and seungcheol seems to like that very much, letting out a groan every time he feels your throat close around the tip of his dick.

as tears stream down your face, you feel yourself being so wet, you fear you might start dripping all over his carpet.

god, you truly hope you aren’t, because that is one dry cleaners you cannot afford.

you watch his beautiful face, head thrown back, long and black eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, lips red from him biting on them to suppress his moans.

he’s so beautiful, if you could, you would stay right here, between his legs, just so you can watch his face in pleasure.

“fuck, baby, that mouth. you’re gonna make me cum, ah, shit. look so pretty on your knees for me, sucking on this cock.”, he raps out, every few words interrupted either by a moan or a groan.

you feel him move your head even faster, as well as his hips buckling upwards, a clear sign that he’s close.

“shit, gonna cum in that mouth of yours, ah fuck, baby- you gotta- gotta stop if you don’t want to swallow it- i- ah-.” he continues to blab, but you don’t pay him any mind, focusing on sucking the head every time he moves your head upwards, and tracing the little vein with your tongue every time he pushes it back downwards.

his moans get louder, his hold on your hair gets tighter, hips stuttering as he’s right there, on the brink of cumming.

you remove your mouth completely away from his dick, immediately replacing it with your hand. looking him directly in the eyes, you say the words that finally push him over the edge.

“cum for me baby, all over my face.”

and that does it for him, spurts of pearly white cum falling on your cheeks, nose and lips. the last few drops you catch with your mouth, wrapping your lips around his sensitive head again in favour of swallowing every last drop of his cum, making sure that nothing is wasted and that he’s as clean as possible.

he moans loudly at your action, pulling your head away because he can’t endure the delicious torture.

you both pant, his chest moving up and down fast, beads of sweat gathered around the crown of his head.

you take the opportunity to finally take a deep breath in, feeling a little bit lightheaded due to being deprived of real oxygen for this long.

cheol slowly opens his mouth, looking at the artwork that is your beautiful face decorated with his cum. with a thumb, he swipes a bit of it away, holding it in front of your mouth as an offer.

you don’t hesitate a second before you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking on it like it’s the most delicious thing you have ever tasted.

cheol groans at the sight, quickly using the same hand to wrap it around the back of your neck, pulling you upwards so that he can kiss you. his tongue invades your mouth, massaging your own in such an erotic way it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

with the other hand, he reaches for your thigh, wrapping around the back of it and pulling on it. you gasp at the sheer strength of this man, because he lifts you up from the floor solely by the hold he has on your leg. for a second, you fly through the air, until your knee finds the couch.

you quickly straddle him, careless sitting down on his lap, his dick rubbing against the lacy material of your panties. he gasps at the sensation, still sensitive from the best head he has ever gotten from a woman.

in order to save his dignity, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against him so your hips lift a bit from his dick, his lips still eagerly kissing, biting and sucking on your lips as he does so.

your hands find their home on his cheeks, holding his handsome face as you kiss him back just as enthusiastically.

at some point, after a few minutes, your lips naturally separate, but they stay close. panting in each others mouth, you use your hold on his cheeks to lightly brush your thumbs against them in comfort.

he takes a deep breath before he says in a hoarse voice “fuck baby, even though you look like an angel, that mouth of yours is so devilish.”

a giggle escapes you, leaving a quick peck on the corner of his lips. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he takes the towel to wipe the remains of his cum off your face before he directs your head so it’s resting on his shoulder, leaving a fleeting kiss on your neck.

“gimme a few minutes baby, i will eat you out then so good, you’re gonna cry.”

and your only response is the shiver that runs down your spine.

for a few moments you just sit there on his lap, playing with his hair while his hands rub your back, lips leaving kisses every few seconds across your shoulders and neck.

you breathe in the smell of his shower gel and his natural smell, mixing in a way that it makes your eyes flutter shut on their own.

that’s another thing, you never found anyone to smell so good like you find cheol does. something about his natural smell is just so…him, and manly, and makes you feel safe and protected.

you wish you could stay here forever.

suddenly cheol’s kisses on your neck start to linger a bit longer, a bit wetter, and his hands start to stray a little bit more on your ass than usual.

you shift slightly just to get more comfortable as your legs started cramping, when you feel his half hard on. your mouth fall open upon realising that it’s showtime.

ever so slowly, you move your hips back, almost dragging your clothed pussy over his bare dick, making him inhale deeply at your action.

he lightly nibbles on the shell of your ear, before whispering directly against it “you little devil.”

you turn your head towards him, looking all innocent and coy as you say “but i thought i was an angel according to your previous statement?”

cheol narrows his eyes, before taking your thighs in his hand and picking you up slightly so he can basically slam you against the couch.

you gasp at the action, adrenaline filling your veins more so than the blood does.

he hovers over you, his hands caging you as he leans on them right beside your head.

you look at each other for a second, waiting to see who will play the first move, when suddenly, cheol rolls his hips right into your own, his dick catching on the lace of your panties.

you gasp at the action, nails immediately imbedding themselves into his back, eyes rolling so far back in your head you can see your thoughts.

“bad, bad girl. trying to play all innocent…”, he pauses before he leans even more in, so his lips are right against your ear again “…when just a few minutes ago you were choking on my dick, so prettily and desperately.”

unconsciously you inhale deeply, making him smirk a bit.

“what, don’t tell me you’re still thinking about it? still not satisfied? cumming down your throat wasn’t enough for you?”, and the condescending voice, the smirk, the satisfaction in his voice.

it pissed you off a bit.

harshly grabbing the back of his head, your nails digging into his scalp as you pull him in a harsh kiss, your other hand purposefully dragging your nails down his back, which makes him shiver.

you break the kiss off just as harshly before you answer to his question “no, i’m still not satisfied, so you better get to it, before i found somebody who is willing to do it.”

his eyes turn black with jealousy, fire lighting up in them. within milliseconds, he’s grabbing your neck and kissing you just as harshly as you kissed him, teeth biting harshly on your lips.

you moan as he continues to kiss you, almost like he wants to prove a point to you. teeth clashing, hands clawing at each other, his hand around your neck squeezing tighter and tighter, making you wrap your legs around his hips tighter and pull him into yourself as he does so.

he pulls away aggressively, and his next words sounding like a fact, like it’s written in the stars, linger in the air for a second.

“even if you wanted to, you could never find somebody who would fuck you as good as i do.”

eyes laser focused on each other, you just utter two words as a response.

“prove it.”

getting right to it, his mouth attaches itself on your neck, sucking even more hickeys to the pre-existing ones from last night. while his mouth is busy with marking your skin, his hand wiggles under your back, fishing for the bra clasp. once he finds it, he quickly undoes it, pulling it down your arms before throwing it somewhere over his shoulder with no care whatsoever, even when it sounds like it crashed into what suspiciously sounds like the vase he got from one of his business partners.

choosing not to care, he lets his lips travel from your neck, to your collarbones, over the navel of your breast, straying to one side so he can suck on one of your tits, softly biting your nipple that causes you to moan loudly and grasp his hair in your hands.

he does it for a few more seconds, letting his hand massage the tit that isn’t getting the same attention as the one in his mouth, before resumes kissing a trail down your body.

once he gets down to you hips, he looks up to you over his short bangs that are getting in his eyes. the said eyes look at you like a hawk, preying on you, excited to see your anticipation and shiny eyes looking back at him.

he just lets his lips and nose travel of the skin of your lower belly, making it flex from the tickling sensation. once they reach your left hip, he lets his lips envelope the skin there and suck on it, a hickey forming on its place.

letting his lips pop, he looks up at you as he lets his head move even lower, until his lips are hovering right over the lacy panties you are wearing.

you hold your breath as you wait to see what he next move will be.

god, you hope to god that he will just-

just as the thought crossed your mind, cheol puts his opened mouth over your clothed pussy, prodding at the covered slit with his tongue, paying the special attention to your clit. the fabric that is still on you makes his action all that more stimulating, making you throw your head back as you moan.

hands fly to his still wet hair, pulling on it harshly, maybe in hopes that you can pull him in deeper, make his tongue finally enter your hole.

almost as if he can read your mind, he pushes your underwear to the side with the two of his fingers. the moment he sees your pussy, glistening with wetness, his lips are on you, parting your lips with his tongue, entering your pussy. he swirls his tongue around the entrance, gathering all your precum before swallowing it all, moaning at the taste.

quickly he starts pulling on your underwear, mumbling something along the lines off “off, off, i need these off now.”, before he throws them over his shoulder too.

placing your legs so they are resting on his shoulders, he immediately prods with one of his fingers at your whole, letting your walls swallow it whole. his lips wrap themselves around your clit, sucking on it just the right way.

you close your eyes in pleasure, your desires finally being fulfilled just like you dreamed of them to be.

not only was choi seungcheol a walking dream, sex appeal on legs.

he was also between your legs.

he continues to fuck his finger in you, twisting his hand when he’s pushing it in and un-twisting it when pulling out.

after a minute or so, he pulls the finger completely out in favour of pushing two back in. you squeeze your thighs around his head as he does so, moaning his name.

“cheol…”

choosing to ignore you, he just speeds up his movements, tongue still playing with your clit.

you taste so good on his tongue, it makes cheol close his eyes and groan every time he swallows.

the longer he eats you out, the more careless and messy he gets. he lets saliva cover your whole pussy, almost dripping on his leather couch. he lets his fingers push in and out of you at merciless speed, the fingertips grazing your sweet spot every time he tries to reach deeper inside of your pussy.

it all makes you feel lightheaded, moaning mess, your back arch, so much so that your whole upper body almost lifts off the couch.

“ah! cheol, more, ple-please!”

cheol never one to deny his lady anything, just speeds up his motion, sucking on your clit while his tongue pries at your entrance along with his fingers.

just as you feel yourself on the brink of cumming, your moans getting so loud they ring inside of cheol’s ears, he pulls completely away, slowly getting on his knees to admire the mess that he made of you.

tears streaming down your cheeks, your hair making it look like you have a halo around your head.

your chest heave up and down as you try to regain some of the air, nipples rock hard under his gaze.

your skin so prettily lathered with the hickeys, marking what’s his.

cheol just then realises that he started calling you his inside his head, no other reason other than the fact that you earlier mentioned the possibility of going to other men to get what you want.

he will be damned before he lets that happen.

and then your pussy. god, it looks so pretty, glistening under the light, his spit mixed with your juices, smeared all around your lips and thighs.

cheol was never that interested in art that much, but he’s pretty sure that this-you, is what a masterpiece is supposed to look like.

he suddenly realises that you have been calling his name the entire time, whining and almost crying in frustration-in need.

“cheollie please just-just fuck me already.”, you say as you pull on him with the hold of your legs that have wrapped themselves around his hips.

he immediately leans down over you, caging you with his arms around your head, his lips immediately finding yours in a hungry kiss.

just as his hand reaches down to take his dick so he can finally push it inside your gaping pussy, he suddenly remembers.

fuck, he forgot the condom.

humming in your mouth, he mumbles against them “wait baby, I forgot the condom, let me just get it from the-“, but he feels your legs just tighten around his waist, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, preventing him from getting up.

you mumble through a kiss “if you get up now, i will cry and make myself cum, all without you.”

well, alright then.

cheol just groans at the thought of having his dick in your pussy, with no condom to get in the way of truly feeling the wetness of your pussy.

little to excitedly, he takes his dick in his hand, and for a second just teases your folds with his tip, sliding it up and down, catching on your clit as he pulls it down.

as you start whining softly in desperation, telling him “hurry up” in a soft voice, cheol decides that it’s time.

and then he’s pushing in.

you both gasp at the feeling- you at the mere girth of his cock, and he because of how wet it feels to have his dick in your pussy.

he pushes a bit more in, but once he feels resistance due to you clamping on him almost painfully, he just kisses your cheeks in comfort, mumbling against them “relax baby or i won’t be able to give you all of my cock.”

you breathe in and out in hopes that it will help you relax, and it does, with help of his kisses and his hand rubbing your waist in comfort.

after a minute or so, you nod as a way to tell him that it’s okay for him to move. he continues to pepper little kisses on your face as he pushes his dick more in, groaning every so often at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him.

when he finally bottoms out, cheol lets a big breath out, relieved that he didn’t cum, which he felt multiple times almost happen due to your tight little pussy milking him so much.

i can’t, not yet, she has to cum first before i do.

with that thought, he starts to slowly rock his hips, making a fluid motion out of it. he feels his tip grazing your sweet spot, which makes you gasp and moan lightly, as well as rocking your hips into his a little bit.

you turn your face towards him, your eyes telling him clearly what you want from him.

he immediately kisses you, tongues dancing a beautiful and harmonious dance for a second and then pulling away just to do the same not even a second later.

he continues with the slow pace, rolling hips so professionally it makes you second-guess his profession.

but once you breathlessly whisper “more” against his lips, he’s doubling his pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs.

you stop kissing him in favour of moaning directly in his face, which seungcheol seems to enjoy just as much as your kisses.

“feels good, baby? yeah? fuck, you moan so prettily, all for me, only for me, hm? nobody fucks you as good as i do right? the same way nobody begs for my dick as beautifully as you do.”

you try to focus on his words and to answer him, you truly do, but his cock filling your pussy, sliding in and out of you, and hitting your spot repeatedly makes you forget all and every thought, only being able to respond “yes yes yes” over and over.

he groans as your pussy pulses around him, making him quicken his pace even more, his hips and balls slapping almost violently against your skin.

the words keep leaving from his mouth, but you’re just too focused on enjoy him fucking you like nobody has ever before, that you don’t even answer a question he asked you.

seungcheol doesn’t like that.

he stops his hips from moving, and as you open your mouth to complain, he quickly leaves a strong spank on the side of your ass, a gasp leaving your mouth instead.

“i said- is this my pussy, pretty girl? nobody can fuck you the way i do, hm?”

his eyes as black as obsidian, looking for an answer in your tear filled ones.

you nod your head, moaning as you try to rock your hips into his.

cheol doesn’t like that either.

he spanks you one more time, just as hard, a little scream escapes you as he does. “use your words baby, or i won’t make you cum.”

you nod as you respond “yes, yes, only you can, nobody ever fucked me so good as you.”

he kisses you quickly, tongue teasing your lips for a second before pulling away to ask “who does this pussy belong to baby? remind me again.”, he finishes with another spank to your cheek.

you moan as you desperately respond “yours, belongs to you, only you, p-please stop teasing me-“.

before you can continue, he starts fucking you again, hips slamming into you that you feel yourself move upwards on the couch from the mere force.

you scream as he rocks his hips, tears freely falling from your eyes now. you don’t even realise just how tight your nails have imbedded themselves into his back, pretty sure that you are drawing blood from them.

not that cheol seems to mind, he just groans at every little thing you give him, groaning “yes baby, just like that” in your ear.

still, deciding to spare him an ER visit, you switch to pulling on his hair instead.

which seems to be an even better thing, because he in return moans so loudly, eyes scrunched up in pleasure as you do so.

“fuck baby, don’t do that or i’ll cum right now right inside you.”

the thought makes you bite your lips, as well as clam your walls even tighter around him.

he notices this, causing a little smirk to play on the edge of his lips. “oh? would my pretty girl like that? for me to cum inside you? to cream your walls? hm?”

he looks carefully for your reaction, hoping that he isn’t crossing any lines with what he’s saying. but as you nod your head quickly, desperately saying “please! please please please please cum, cum inside of me-“, he just groans, the thought of cumming inside you, painting your walls white while your pussy takes in every last drop makes him almost cum right there and there.

seeing that he can’t go on for much longer, he lets his fingers find your clit, rubbing it just as fast as he’s fucking you, putting on just the littlest of pressure on it, knowing that it’s enough to make you finish.

your scream echoes through the room, hands pulling on his soft but wet hair like a maniac, feeling your end nearing at rapid pace.

“i need you to cum for me princess, now, fuck, cream on it baby, lemme feel you-“

and it’s done, with a cry, you throw your head back, your thighs squeeze his hips and you cum. you cum so hard that you squirt a little all over his thighs, making a mess out of him.

he, seemingly also almost there, just needs a little bit of your help, mainly just you saying “cum, please, cum inside me, need it so bad cheollie-“, he thrusts once, twice before he’s cumming inside of you, moaning in your face as he does so.

rocking his hips for a bit, to make sure that every last drop of his cum is fucked deeply inside of your pussy, he then drops his whole dead body onto your own, his legs shaking from how hard his orgasm hit him.

although he is a bit heavy, you don’t complain at all, instead hugging him even closer, welcoming his bulky body to squish you. it’s almost like it makes you feel grounded, as well as helping you clear up your mind, haziness due to your own finish clearing up the longer he lays there on you.

you two just breathe heavily for a minute, trying to regain your breaths as you rub his back, while his lips softly kiss your neck and cheeks.

he turns your face to his own so that he can kiss you gently, rubbing his thumb on your cheek in comfort.

he breaks the kiss off, his boba eyes looking at you as he gently asks “are you okay baby?”

you just nod your head with a tired smile.

“i didn’t overdo it, right? everything was okay? wasn’t too much?”

your smile spreads a big wider as you whisper “it was perfect…you are perfect.”

he smiles a little before softly pecking your lips, stopping only at one kiss in favour of whispering back “you are the one that’s perfect…my baby.”

you just loop your hands around his neck to pull him towards you, kissing him deeply and slowly, letting all your feelings and words you don’t trust to say out loud speak for themselves through that kiss.

after a minute or so, you feel his dick slowly get hard again, making you realise that he hasn’t pulled out the entire time.

you softly say “sorry about the mess i made on your couch.”

cheol just chuckles as he responds “i could care less about the couch, especially not after i just had you squirt all over it.”

you shyly hide your face in his neck, groaning in embarrassment as he chuckles some more.

suddenly, he grabs your thighs before going to slowly stand up, all while still holding your body wrapped around his.

you gasp as you get picked up, clamping onto his dick as you feel the shift in the angle.

cheol just groans as he starts carrying you towards his room, spanking your ass one more time as he walks.

“i’m not done with you yet.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

after two more rounds of wild and fast sex, you two lay there on his bed, both on your sides as you face each other, a thin blanket covering your bodies as the sweat on your bodies starts to slowly cool off.

seungcheol just looks at your face, almost like he’s in awe that a woman like you is truly in his bed and that has given him a chance, running the back of his finger up and down your cheek as you two quietly talk in what now has turned a dark room. the night slowly crept on you two, which you didn’t even realise until you fell onto the bed after you had just finished riding him into oblivion.

night, which reminds you…

you should slowly go home now.

you push his silky black hair back, looking at his youthful face and small smile.

god he’s so beautiful, I want to see him again.

you smile small, a little bit of bittersweetness visible in it, as you say quietly“i should probably go home soon.”

his mood sours immediately, a pout replacing the smile on his cherry red lips.

the arm that has been wrapped around your waist under the blanket tightens, pulling you closer to his body, almost likes he’s trying to prevent you from getting up.

ever so quietly, he whispers in the mostly dark room “do you have to?”.

the lamp that is turned on and is your only source of light illuminates his handsome face, eyes sparkling from the said light, begging you not to go.

you smile sadly as you respond “i should.”

he stays quiet for a second, teeth gnawing on his lip as he thinks about your words.

you just lean in to leave one last kiss on his lips, letting your presence and smell linger for a bit before you pull away and start to get up.

as you are sitting on the edge of the bed, looking for your things, you hear him shuffle behind you, but don’t pay him any attention, thinking that he’s probably just going to walk you out.

which quickly changes once you feel his arms wrap around your hips from behind, face nuzzling in your neck.

you turn your head to look at him surprised, the top his head only greeting you in return.

he tightens his hug around your waist, his legs spread so that you’re basically sitting between them.

and then, in the quietest and most unsure voice he asks you.

“stay? please? tomorrow is sunday after all…and-and I don’t want you to leave… i don’t want this to be over yet…”

you unconsciously start pouting yourself at his voice, heart breaking at how sad he sounds that you have to go.

you fish with your point finger for his chin, saying a little “cheollie, look at me, please baby.”

after a second or two, he lifts his head from your shoulder, face red from the lack of oxygen.

you smile a little at him before you say “okay, i’ll stay, but tomorrow i really need to go, because i have work on monday and i can’t miss it.”

you pause for a second to gulp your nervousness down before continuing “and…”

he just looks at you with puppy eyes, seeing you get flustered in real time, but doesn’t say anything to interrupt you.

you just look at him a bit embarrassed as you finish “…who says that this has to end?”

cheol just blinks for a second before the implication of your words finally delivers in his head, making a big smile explode on his face.

quickly kissing you, he lets your bodies fall back on the bed, his arms still tightly wrapped around you, making it hard for you to turn around so you can kiss him properly.

god, choi seungcheol, what are you doing to me?

[autumnscribbles]

truth | rc

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader, rafe x sofia

summary: y/n overhears sofia and hollis unintentionally, and as rafes friend decides to tell him

warning: swearing, that’s about it i think

wc: 1.8k

a/n: thank you to the anon who sent this in! i’m loving the rafe angst lately, i’ve been having so much fun getting back into writing!! I legit couldn’t think of a title so for now there isn’t one lmaooo

part 2

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The fresh night air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath. You always loved walking at night. The air always felt better, the way everything quieted and slowed down always brought you peace. You loved to sit on the dock, listening to the crash of the waves. You watched the stars, mentally pointing out your favorite constellations as you spotted them.

You were brought out of your trance by a familiar voice coming from one of the boats in your vicinity.

“How much?”

You turned your head, leaning your body to try to get a good view. You spotted Sofia, sitting on a boat with that blonde lady you saw the other day. What was her name again? Holly?

“25, dear,” she said. “No questions asked.”

You slowly rose to your feet, trying to get a better view and be more in earshot. You had to stop your jaw from dropping when you heard the conversation. Twenty five grand for Sofia to convince Rafe to take the Goat Island deal. The well put together woman tried to make it same like it was for Rafe’s benefit, but you could tell by Sofia’s reactions that it wasn’t. She just wanted the money, she didn’t care how.

“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

You saw Holly…Hollis! That’s what it was! She handed something to Sofia, and you caught a glimpse of what looked like cash inside. The conversation started wrapping up and you quickly picked up your pace, walking in the opposite direction and off the dock so neither of them saw you.

The sound of your shoes on the pavement sounded too loud in your ears as you hurried back to your house. You knew you weren’t supposed to overhear the conversation, but what were you supposed to do with that information now that you had it? You had to tell Rafe, right? He was your friend. You couldn’t let him get screwed over, especially not when he thought Sofia had good intentions.

You sat on the edge of your bed, breathing shallow as you went over everything you heard. You let out a mix of a sigh and a groan as you flopped onto your back, staring at the ceiling. You’d sleep on it, and decide how to go about telling Rafe tomorrow. You were supposed to meet him at the beach, maybe you could catch him alone before that.

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The sun was bright and unforgiving, your eyes squinting automatically as you walked down the street. You decided you’d meet Rafe at his place before going down to the beach together. You needed to catch him alone.

You already felt the sweat forming on your forehead as you approached his front door, knocking urgently. When he didn’t answer, you knocked again. Eventually, the door flung open, his eyes half closed once the sun hit his face.

“Can you chill out?” he groaned, shielding the sun with his hand.

You could tell he had just woken up. Usually you’d feel bad, but honestly, you didn’t care. You needed to talk to him, to tell him what you heard and saw last night.

“Rafe I need to tell you something,” you said. “It’s important.”

He groaned slightly before stepping aside, silently inviting you in. He disappeared for a minute or two, arriving back with two mugs of coffee in his hand. You let him take a few sips, waiting for the caffeine to be in him before you started explaining. He needed to be alert and awake when he heard it.

“I was out at the dock last night, just clearing my head,” you started. “And I overheard something I think you should know.”

He stared at you, urging you to continue. His bright blue eyes were fixated on you now, fully awake.

“I saw Sofia and…Hollis?” it came out as more of a question. “I heard Hollis telling Sofia that she would give her 25 grand to convince you to sign the deal.”

“What?” Rafe said, his eyebrows ruffling together and his head shaking as he set his mug down on the coffee table beside him. “You must have misheard.”

“I saw Sofia take the money, Rafe,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I know you really like her and everything but I really thought you should know and-”

“Just stop, y/n!” Rafe cut you off, raising a hand as if to pause you. “Spare me the fucking dramatics. Why are you trying to fuck with me?”

His jaw clenched, twitching as if he was biting his tongue. You hit a nerve, you could tell. You sat up a bit straighter, trying to show that you were serious. He wasn’t believing you. He didn’t want to think you might be right.

“I’m not!” you protested. “I just thought you should know. I think this Goat Island thing is sketchy, and she’s in on it.”

“Are you seriously that fucking jealous?” he asked, his voice raising as he stood up, towering over you. “You seriously can’t handle the thought of me being happy with someone so much that you have to make shit up?”

“Rafe this isn’t about Sofia!” you defended, standing up to match him. “I want you to be happy, but I can’t not let you know she’s being shady behind your back!”

“No, you know what y/n?” he asked, not waiting for the answer. “I’ve waited for you forever. Just waiting for the day you finally give me the time of day. For once, my attention is on someone other than you. And you can’t fucking handle it.”

You took a step back, your mouth opening slightly. You were at a loss for words. He really thought this was a jealousy issue? That you made up a whole complex story just because you don’t like Sofia? Sure, you were a little hurt when they got together. She was beautiful, and kind, and there were moments you wished he looked at you the way he looked at her. But this wasn’t about hurting her, or getting your way.

“You just loooooved pulling me around behind me like your puppy,” he continued, matching your step back with one forward. His voice lowered and his eyes narrowed, meeting your gaze. “You loved holding me close. You know how I feel for you, and you love it, y/n. You love the attention and you love how you can use it to your advantage.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” you screamed. “You’re fucking delusional Rafe. I’m trying to tell you something serious and you think this is just a love triangle? A lovers quarrel?”

“Stop messing with my head!” he shouted, tapping his temples with his index fingers. “That’s all you do, is fuck with my head! All the time!”

Your mind was reeling. Is that how he felt? Like you were just stringing him along. You never knew Rafe saw you as anything other than a friend. If you weren’t so focused on trying to tell him the truth, you would have held on longer to what he said about waiting for you. Did he mean he had feelings for you all this time? You always buried your feelings for Rafe, pretending they didn’t exist. It was easier that way. Easier to accept you’d never be together.

Rafe had always made your heart flutter, but the baggage that came with him often kept you at a distance when it came to getting closer. He was your friend, you cared for him. You never told him about how you truly felt, because you knew it would likely be a bad idea to be romantically involved. You assumed he’d never feel that way about you anyway, so you buried the hatchet.

“Fine,” you exhaled. “Don’t come to me when you find out your little girlfriend screwed you over. It’s your 400k, not mine.”

Trying to keep up an air of strength, you clenched your jaw. You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t react emotionally. He’ll find out the truth eventually, the truth always comes out. He’d admit you were right if you gave it time.

Until then, you walked out his door, leaving it open behind you. His earlier words still coursed through your mind. The mean ones, and the ones about his feelings for you, but as always, you swept them under the rug. You couldn’t face the truth yourself.

You felt something tug at your wrist, turning around to meet Rafe’s blue eyes once again. You thought they looked glossier, a sheen over them. Was he tearing up? No way, Rafe Cameron never cries. Not over this.

“Y/n,” he said lowly, a stark contrast from his previous shouting. “Tell me the fucking truth. Are you just saying this to fuck with me and make me question my relationship with Sofia?”

“No, Rafe,” you said honestly. “I know what I saw. This isn’t some ploy to get you to break up with her or be with me instead. I’m just trying to protect you.”

It was the truth. Despite how you felt about Rafe, you wanted the best for him. If Sofia was what was best, you’d support it. You almost wished you hadn’t seen what you saw at the dock. That way, you wouldn’t have to insert yourself in their relationship at all. You could continue to stand on the sidelines, watching his life pass with you becoming less and less present.

“Protect me,” he scoffed, mocking your words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked harshly.

“Protect me from what, huh? My little poor heart being hurt?” he asked sarcastically. “It’s too late for that, y/n. You can’t protect me from anything when you’re part of the problem.”

You shook your head at him, at a loss for words. He clearly wasn’t done speaking, but you ran out of snarky retorts. You felt like you had whiplash from all the directions this conversation was going. He stared at you for a moment, his mouth slightly open, his hands running over his newly buzzed hair. You heard him release a quiet sigh, his head hanging down.

“No one will ever be good enough in your eyes,” he said, looking back up at you. “Not Sofia, and not me. I was never good enough for you, and Sofia isn’t good enough for me. So you can’t protect me from ‘heartbreak’, y/n. Because you are the problem.”

He pointed a finger at you, his teeth clenched together as the words left his lips. He turned around swiftly and walked back into his house, slamming the door behind him. Unable to process what just happened, you stared blankly in his direction, met with nothing but the front of his house. By trying to help, you somehow managed to make things so much worse, and so complicated.

“Now what?” you said to yourself under your breath.