#PLEASE I SPEND SO LONG ON THIS GIVE ME ATTENTION

[requiemforthepoets]

stickwitu 𖦹 LN4

PAIRING: lando norris x female!asian!reader

SUMMARY: despite coming from a very wealthy and deeply-rooted traditional background—where family always comes first, your relationship with lando is fully embraced by most of your family, though the very complex dynamics of old-money family expectations often creates tension, causing lando to rethink everything.

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, minor mention of violence (punching), traditional family, google translated chinese, crazy rich asian inspired + plot, heiress reader, named character (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), asian culture & tradition, social status, high society, brief mentions of verbal abuse, anxiety, overthinking, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 20.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: okay, before anything else, i wanted to say first and foremost that i’m asian (southeast girlie), so i’m not asian baiting 🥹 and i have many chinese friends to the point i’m familiar with their culture and tradition, but mostly the reference is from and follows the plot line of crazy rich asians—which is my fav book trilogy, but i also did insert my own preference and did my research so that i can properly write this fic better. this is a long fic, bc i added as much details as i could and this is not even finished yet, i still have 2-3 parts in my draft, but somehow i’m satisfied with the end, but let me know if you want me to continue this one. your comment/reblogs is very highly appreciated. okay, that’s enough yapping for me, i hope you’ll enjoy reading this!

You had just touched down in Dubai, the December heat had brushed against your skin as you stepped outside the terminal. It had been a hectic week—first, spending time in Sweden with your family, soaking in the peacefulness of the snowy countryside, and now, diving headfirst into the chaos of Abu Dhabi for the final race of the 2024 season.

Honestly, there wasn’t much time to catch your breath. The car was already waiting for you to drive you to the circuit, while your bags will be brought to the hotel. You had reserved a separate room just in case, but knowing Lando, you both can sort out the details later when you return for the evening.

The drive to Yas Marina Circuit was uneventful, the familiar mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in your chest. Lando had texted you earlier, letting you know he was already in the McLaren garage preparing for the qualifying session. He knew your schedule had been tight and didn’t mind that you were running late, as long as you made it in time. Lando also mentioned you would be watching the session with his family—Cisca, Adam, and his youngest sister Cisca, who shared her mother’s name.

Once you arrived at the paddock, you pulled out the lanyard holding your pass, the one Lando had sent ahead before your trip to Sweden. It had been very thoughtful of him to arrange everything in advance, ensuring your arrival would be seamless. As you walked through the entrance, you felt the familiar surge of attention—cameras flashing, fans calling out for you. Despite having attended very few races this season, you still weren’t used to the buzz surrounding the wags.

Fans of Lando waved enthusiastically as you made your way through the paddock, and you waved back shyly with a polite smile. A few asked for photos, and you happily obliged, pausing briefly for snapshots with those who looked the most excited. Some handed you small gifts like friendship bracelets, bucket hats, and a few letters addressed to Lando.

“We made these for him! Can you please give them to him?” one of the fans asked eagerly.

“I’ll make sure that he gets them.” you promised, and carefully tucking the items in one of the tote bags, then the fans thanked you profusely.

As you continued your way toward the McLaren garage, you spotted a familiar figure—Kym Illman, camera in hand. Kym had always been kind to you, and the two of you had exchanged pleasantries during the previous races. He raised his camera and motioned towards you with a questioning look, silently asking for permission to take a photo of you. Unsure of how to pose, you gave a small, slightly awkward smile. At that moment, a gentle breeze swept through the paddock, catching your hair perfectly. Kym lowered the camera and grinned, giving you a thumbs-up.

“It is a very beautiful shot.” he said as you passed by.

“Thank you.” you replied with a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

The McLaren garage wasn’t far now. The hum of engines, faint smell of rubber, and buzz of team radios filled the air as you approached. You hoped to catch Lando before the qualifying session began.

When you arrived at the McLaren garage, the whole place was in full swing—mechanics fine tuning the car, and engineers analyzing the datas. Despite only attending a handful of races this season, the whole team knew exactly who you were. Smiles greeted you from all corners, with some of the team members even giving you a playful thumbs-up.

“Look who’s here! Lando’s lucky charm.” one of the members teased, earning a chorus of lighthearted laughs from the surrounding crew.

You couldn’t help but smile at the nickname that you had heard before. It seemed that your presence at races had coincided with Lando’s wins throughout the season—Miami, Netherlands, and Singapore. The whole McLaren team had adopted the idea that you brought him good fortune.

“I’m not sure about that,” you replied modestly and smiled, holding up the tote bag filled with letters and small gifts. “But I do come bearing express mail for Lando.”

The team chuckled at your remark, their fondness for you were really evident. One of the mechanics had jokingly asked if Lando had hired you as his personal courier, but before you could respond, you saw Jon calling out to him.

Lando was standing a few feet away, deep in conversation with one of the mechanics. At the mention of your arrival, his head turned instantly, and his face lit up in recognition. He strode over quickly, his race suit tied casually at his waist and his fireproofs clinging to his frame. Lando’s smile was warm and genuine as he closed the gap between you.

“You made it.” he said, tone laced with a mixture of relief and happiness.

“I did,” you replied, smiling back at him. “Sorry for cutting it so close.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Lando assured you, his voice soft. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

“Is that…?” he added and squinted.

“Your fans’ stuff,” you confirmed with a grin. “Letters, drawings, maybe some snacks. They handed it over on my way here, and I promised that I’ll get them to you.”

Lando chuckled, the sound warm and relaxed. “Of course they did. Thanks for bringing it.”

“Anytime,” you smiled, and shifted the conversation. “Where’s your family? I should head over to them before quali starts.”

“They’re just outside,” he said, nodding towards the outside. “They’re excited to see you again, especially C. She’s been asking about you since Zandvoort.”

Lando’s fondness for his younger sister was clear in his tone, and it always made you smile. Before you could respond, one of the staff approached Lando, telling him that it was time to start gearing up.

“Here, I’ll help you.” you said as you stepped closer to Lando.

You instinctively reached for the half of his race suit, helping him pull the fabric up to secure it over his shoulders. You made sure that every strap and seam was in place, your fingers moving with practiced precision. You double checked the straps on his HANS device, ensuring everything was in place.

“Strapped in and ready to go.” you said softly, fingers brushing his shoulder as you stepped back.

Lando didn’t move away immediately. Instead, his hands found your waist, his touch was light but grounding. He leaned in slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar warmth.

“Kiss for luck?” he asked, tone a little bit playful but sincere.

You happily obliged, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. As you pulled back, you added a second kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a moment longer.

“Good luck out there, my champ.” you whispered.

Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“Stay close, okay?” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the garage noise. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” you smiled as you caressed his back softly. “Be safe out there, okay?”

You gently tapped his back to let him know it was time to go. Lando straightened up, giving you one last lingering look before heading towards his car. Jon appeared at your side, ready to escort you to where his family was waiting.

“Come on,” Jon said with a smile. “Let’s get you settled.” He led the way and you followed.

As you followed Jon, the faint hum of conversation and the clinking of tools fading into the background, he glanced at you with a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you again,” Jon said, tons light and genuine. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You nodded, returning his smile. “It has. The last time was Singapore, I think?”

“That sounds about right,” Jon agreed, then chuckled softly. “You know, Lando’s been counting down the days since you told him you’d be here. He hasn’t shut up about it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at what he said, a mix of amusement and affection spreading across your face. “Has he, now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jon continued, a teasing glint evident in his eyes. “The second he got that text from you, he was grinning like a kid on christmas morning. Every day after that, it was, ‘Do you think she’s really coming? What if she missed my race?’”

You smiled fondly. “I told him I’d be here today, no matter what. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Jon nodded, his expression softening. “He knows that. Lando just really missed you, I think the last few weeks have felt longer than usual for him.”

There was this warmth that you began to feel in your chest, and you glanced down for a moment, feeling a bit shy under Jon’s kind gaze.

“I’ve missed him, too. It’s been a very busy year for the both of us.” you sighed.

Jon nodded knowingly. “I can imagine. Between your work and everything with your family, it must feel like you’re always being pulled in a hundred different directions.”

You let out yet again another small sigh, pace slowing just slightly as you responded. “It does get a bit overwhelming sometimes. My family always has something going on, and as the only daughter, well…let’s just say there are certain expectations.”

To those people who truly know you, there is no denying that you were born into a world of luxury and expectations, where wealth was not merely a privilege but a legacy. To the public eye, you are known simply as Lando Norris’ girlfriend, the quiet yet sophisticated partner of the Formula 1 star. A strikingly gorgeous young woman whose life seemed to orbit the vibrant universe of the McLaren driver. But to these people who moved in the shadows of high society, those who deeply understood the intricate web of power and legacy within Asia’s upper echelons, knew better.

You were an heiress to two of the most prominent and affluent families in Southeast Asia. A woman born not merely into massive wealth, but into legacy, responsibility, and the unrelenting expectations of old money.

Your father’s family were the pinnacle of Singapore’s old money elite. Their fortune, amassed over generations through banking, real estate, trade, and monopoly of palm oil, it had not only survived but flourished in the modern era. Your mother’s lineage, although equally stories and affluent, paled in comparison to the vast empire your father’s family presided over.

You were born the youngest and only daughter in a family dominated by male cousins and brothers, an anomaly in a lineage often associated with patriarchal values. This made you a darling in your grandmother’s eyes, a singular beacon of grace and femininity in a sea of potential heirs. They adored you, lavishing you with attention and grooming you from a young age to carry the family’s mantle with such poise.

Your life was a delicate balancing act. While your family taught you to embrace privilege, they instilled in you a deep understanding of responsibility. Money was not to be spent flippantly, power was not to be flaunted, and fame was to be avoided unless it served a greater purpose. Unlike some of your cousins—whose reckless behavior often flirted with scandal and making their privilege a playground, you were a model of decorum. Never appeared in any tabloid headlines, never indulged in public extravagance, and always carried yourself with the grace befitting a young woman of your stature.

He tilted his head sympathetically. “And you balance all of that on top of everything else? No wonder Lando’s so proud of you.”

Jon’s words had caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly. “He said that?”

“All the time,” Jon replied, his smile never fading. “He brags about you more than you probably realize. How hardworking you are, how you always seem to manage everything with such grace. Lando’s your biggest fan, you know.”

The sincerity in Jon’s voice brought a soft smile to your lips. “That really means a lot.”

“Well, it’s true,” Jon said simply. Then, with a gentle nudge towards ahead, he added, “and speaking of people who adore you, Lando’s family is just up there. I know they’ve been really looking forward to seeing you too.”

You glanced toward the familiar faces waiting to see you again in the designated seating area, feeling a wave of warmth and comfort at the sight.

“Thank you, Jon.” You said, tone sincere.

“Anytime,” he replied, stepping aside to let you continue forward. “Enjoy the qualifying, and don’t stress out too much, he’ll do great, especially with you here.”

You gave him a grateful nod before making your way towards Lando’s family. After the little talk you had with Jon, it made you feel a sense of calm as the conversation replayed in your mind.

As soon as you stepped into the designated seating area, Cisca—Lando’s youngest sister, spotted you and she smiled instantly. Her face broke into a wide smile, and before you could say a word, she was already rushing towards you, arms outstretched.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms tightly around you. “I’ve missed you so much!”

You laughed softly, hugging her back just as tight. “I’ve missed you too, C! It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”

She pulled back slightly, still holding onto your hands as her eyes sparkled with excitement. “It has been forever! The last time was in the Netherlands, right? That was ages ago!”

“It really was,” you agreed, nodding. “How have you been? How’s everything at uni?”

Her expression turned slightly more serious, though her enthusiasm didn’t dissipate. “Busy, but good. I’ve been swamped with assignments, but it’s not too bad. It’s so nice to take a break and be here for the weekend.”

You smiled. “I’m glad you could come, I’ve missed seeing you so much.”

Cisca’s grin widened, and she squeezed your hands again. “It’s not the same without you here. Oh!” Her expression shifted slightly, as if she had just remembered something. “Flo couldn’t make it, though. She’s stuck in the UK with work stuff. She’s really sad about missing this race.”

Your shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment. “Oh no, that’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing her too.”

“She said she’ll definitely call you, though!” Cisca assured you. “And she made me promise to give you a big hug from her, so—” she threw her arms around you again, squeezing dramatically.

You laughed, hugging her back. “Well, make sure to tell her I missed her too, okay?”

“Will do,” Cisca said brightly, looping her arm through yours. “Come on, Mum and Dad have been dying to see you.”

She guided you toward the rest of the family, where Adam and Cisca—Lando’s mother, were seated. The moment they saw you, their faces lit up with happiness, and they both stood up to greet you.

“Finally!” Cisca said, pulling you into a warm hug. “It’s been far too long, dear. How have you been?”

You smiled, returning her embrace. “I’ve been good, just keeping busy as usual. It’s so nice to see you again, though. I’ve missed you all.”

Adam was next, wrapping you in his own hug. “We’ve missed you too,” he said with genuine warmth. “It’s not often we get to catch up with you these days.”

“I know,” you said, pulling back to look at them. “It’s been way too long. How have you all been?”

“Busy as always,” Cisca replied, her tone light. “But we’ve been keeping up with Lando and with you, whenever he mentions you. He’s been so excited for you to be here this weekend.”

You smiled shyly, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. “I’ve been looking forward to it, too. It’s such a big weekend for him, and I wouldn’t want to miss it for anything.”

“Exactly what he said about you coming,” Adam added, his smile deepening. “You’ve always been his lucky charm, you know.”

Your cheeks warmed at Adam’s comment. Cisca then motioned for everyone to sit back down. “Let’s sit and catch up before things get underway.”

Settling into the seat they saved for you, and the conversation began flowing naturally as they asked how you had been, about your family, and how your trip to Abu Dhabi had been so far. Their genuine interest made you feel at home, easing any nervousness you had felt earlier.

The qualifying had soon started, you could hear the roar of the engines and the buzz of the crowd filled the air as the qualifying session began, and you could not ignore the nervous energy swirling inside you. You are sitting with Lando’s family, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you watch the screens displaying the lap times. Every sector Lando completed brought a new wave of anticipation.

Adam leaned closer to you, his voice low but reassuring. “He’s doing well, isn’t he? Look at those times.”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off the screen. “He is, but it’s so close. Ferrari’s right there.”

Lando’s little sister gripped your arm excitedly. “Don’t worry, he’s got this. He’s been in such good form all weekend, he always does better when you’re here.”

You gave her a small smile, her confidence was comforting. “I hope so. This race means so much for McLaren, and for him.”

When Lando crossed the line with the fastest time in the final moments of Q3, the garage erupted in cheers. His name flashed at the top of the leaderboard, with Oscar right behind him in P2. A front-row lockout for McLaren for tomorrow’s main race. Relief and pride washed over you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

“He did it!” Cisca cheered, jumping out of her seat. She hugged you. “You must be so proud of him.”

“I am.” You admitted softly, your voice filled with emotions.

Adam stood up, motioning for everyone to head down the barricades. “Come on, let’s go congratulate him.”

All of you made your way through the bustling paddock and found a spot at the side of the parc fermé, where Lando and Oscar had already parked their cars. Lando had just stepped out of his car, removing his helmet and running a hand through his damp curls. You could see the exhilaration on his face as he congratulated Oscar, the two exchanging words and pats on the back.

The media reporter quickly surrounded Lando for a post-qualifying interview. You waited patiently, your heart swelling with pride as you watched him speak confidently. His excitement was contagious, and you yourself couldn't stop smiling.

As soon as his interview wrapped up, his mother called out to him. “Lando!”

The reporter gestured toward the barricade where you and his family stood. Lando’s eyes immediately found you, his face lighting up even more. Without any hesitation, he walked over.

“Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad.” he greeted, pulling both of his parents into a hug. Adam clapped him on the back proudly.

“Well done, son!” Adam said. “That was brilliant.”

“Thanks dad.” Lando replied, grinning.”

Lando then turned towards his younger sister, who threw her arms around him. “Pole position! You’re amazing!”

He laughed, hugging her tightly. “Thanks, Cis. I couldn’t let you down, could I?”

Finally, his gaze landed on you. Lando’s smile softened, and stepped towards, wrapping his arms around you without a word. You felt his body relax against your as you hugged him back, fingers lightly brushing the back of his neck.

“Congratulations, my love.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise around you.

Lando didn’t reply immediately, he just held you tighter, his face buried in the crook of your neck. The embrace lingered, and you heard his younger sister and mother giggling beside you.

“You two are so cute!” his younger sister teased.

Cisca was also quick to join. “Stay just like that for a second.”

You heard a faint sound of a camera click and already knew that she had taken a photo. Lando finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hand resting on your waist.

“Thanks for being here,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “It means everything.”

You smiled, brushing a stray curl off his forehead. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Lando leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Before you could let out a response, a team member called for Lando, reminding him that he needed to go and receive the pole position award.

“Go,” you said softly, giving him an encouraging nod. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

He smiled and gave your waist a quick and gentle squeeze. Lando turned and jogged towards Oscar, where they walked together to receive their award, leaving you with his family, who were all grinning from ear to ear.

Later that evening, you all went out for dinner. The dinner with Lando’s family was warm and celebratory, one that’s filled with laughter and easy conversation. After the plates were cleared and goodbyes exchanged, you and Lando made your way back to the hotel, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, guiding you towards the car.

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet, a comfortable silence that comes after a day full of emotions and celebration. Lando’s hand rested lightly on your knee, his thumb gently tracing small circles through the fabric of your skirt. He glanced at you, expression soft and content.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and warm.

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Lando smiled back, squeezing your knee lightly. “I’m glad that you were here, though. Made everything all better.”

When you arrived at the hotel, the soft hum of classical music played in the background, and you approached the concierge desk to sort out your room. Lando stood beside you, both hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, watching as you spoke with the staff.

“Hello, good evening,” you began politely, offering a small smile. “I’d like to make a change to my booking. I’ll be staying with him instead.” You gestured toward Lando, who gave the concierge a friendly nod.

The concierge returned your smile. “Of course, Miss. Let me pull up your reservation.”

As the staff worked, Lando leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing as he put an arm around your waist, pulling you gently towards him. “You could’ve just stayed with me from the start, you know. No need for all this extra work.”

You turned to him with a small smirk. “I didn’t want to assume, Mr. Norris. What if you wanted your own space to focus?”

Lando chuckled, his hand gently squeezed your waist. “You’re my focus, you should already know that by now.”

The concierge handed you a confirmation slip, smiling as they spoke. “It’s all sorted, Miss. We’ve removed the extra booking, and your luggage will be sent up to the suite shortly. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that’s perfect. Thank you so much.” You said.

His hand made its way to your lower back, as he began guiding you towards the elevators. “Shall we?”

You both made your way up in the elevator, the quiet hum of the machinery filling up the silence. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to your floor. Lando led the way to the suite, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. The room was spacious and luxurious, with a view of the glittering Dubai skyline. Your luggage was already neatly placed near the wardrobe.

Lando removed his shoes and tossed them off somewhere in the room, and turned to you. “Home for the night.” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You smiled, stepping further into the room. “Not bad for a last minute arrangement.”

“Nothing but only the best for you.” he grinned. Lando wasted no time tossing himself onto the bed. “Finally. This bed feels like heaven.”

You set your bag gently on the table and slipped off your heels, wincing slightly as your feet adjusted. Lando peeked up from the pillow, watching you with a soft smile.

“Come here,” he said, stretching out his arms towards you, voice laced with exhaustion but still soft. “I need you.”

You chuckled at his eagerness, but the invitation was too tempting to resist. Padding over to the bed, you climbed gently beside him, and when you settled in, his arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you flush against him.

Lando buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers idly traced patterns along your waist. The weight of his embrace was grounding, and you both simply stayed there, enveloped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

For a moment, neither of you had said anything. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional sound of his breathing. It was a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of his race weekend.

“So,” he began, pressing little kisses on your shoulders. “How was Sweden? Did you have fun?”

“I did, and it was wonderful. Dad was asking about you, actually.” you said.

“Oh?” Lando’s tone lifted with interest. “What did he say?”

You smiled faintly. “He wanted to know when you’d be joining us again because, and I quote, ‘I need someone under forty to keep me entertained on the golf course.’”

Lando chuckled. “I’ll need to work on my swing. Your dad takes it so seriously, and I can’t embarrass myself again.”

You laughed, the memory of their last game played in your mind. “He still talks about the time you hit the ball into the lake.”

“Hey, that was a strategic move,” Lando teased, tightening his arms around you slightly. “But it’s good to know that you had fun. What else did you do?”

You sighed, tone shifting slightly. “I got to see my nieces and nephews. They’ve all grown so much, it’s crazy how time flies.”

Lando tilted his head, sensing the change in your voice. “But?”

You hesitated, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “It’s just, it felt different. Alexander wasn’t there.”

He did not say anything, not interrupting and letting you speak your thoughts as he held you close.

“It doesn’t feel right, you know?” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “The family’s not complete without him. It’s been years, but every time we’re all together, his absence is so obvious and I fucking hate it.”

Lando kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he softly said. “I know how much that hurts you.”

You nodded, eyes closing as you let yourself feel the comfort of his presence. “I just wish things could go back to how they were before. But I know that’s impossible.”

“He’s my brother, you know? No matter what happened with my Dad, he’s still family. It just feels so unfair, like he was cut out of all of our lives over something he couldn’t control.” you continued. “I don’t know, it’s just hard. Being with everyone in Sweden reminded me how much I miss him.”

Your father’s family were notorious for their obsession with discretion. Your father had made it abundantly clear that the family name was sacrosanct, a legacy to be protected no matter what cost. Scandals—no matter how small, were intolerable, and your upbringing reflected this philosophy. Among your siblings, the family dynamic had always been a complex one, you and your three older brothers were raised with a rigid sense of propriety, each word, actions, and even the company you kept was scrutinized.

Your eldest brother, Harrison Jr., is a lawyer and married to Katherine Yeo, a member of the influential Yeo family, and a partner of Singapore’s most prestigious law firm. Your second brother, Christopher, is a renowned doctor and married to Isabelle Lim, a member of the influential Lim family, a family that has big influence when it comes to the field of medicine.

Then there’s Alexander. Alexander is your third brother, who had to bear the brunt of defying these expectations. His decision to marry a woman your father deemed a commoner or beneath your social status resulted in his disownment and disinheritance—a decision that greatly affected the whole family. Yet, he remained close to you, valuing your bond over the rigid expectations of your father.

From the perspective of an outsider, your father is a paragon of dignity and control. But within the confines of your family’s estates, your father is a strict and controlling patriarch, a man whose word is final. For him, every decision—no matter how personal, is weighed against its potential impact on the family’s image.

Relationships, in very particular, are heavily scrutinized. Your father despises out-of-wedlock unions and views any romantic involvement with someone beneath your family’s status as a betrayal of tradition and status. His stance is not merely theoretical, it is absolute. This was most painfully evident when your father disowned and disinherited Alexander for marrying a woman he deemed unworthy of your family name.

For a moment, Lando didn’t say anything, his hand still tracing comforting patterns on your waist. Then he spoke, voice steady. “You love him, and that’s what matters. Even if things aren’t perfect, even if your family isn’t whole, the love you have for him hasn’t gone anywhere. I’m sure he knows that.”

His words struck a chord, and you felt a lump forming in your throat. You nodded, not trusting your voice enough to speak.

Lando kissed the top of your head, his hand slipping up to gently cradle it. “You're amazing, you know that? Your family’s lucky to have you. Alexander’s lucky to have you.”

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in his warmth, the weight of the day and the conversation slowly fading as his presence calmed you down.

The steady rise and fall of Lando’s breathing filled the room, grounding you as you stayed wrapped in his arms. His warmth and the way he held you so close reminded you of just how much you missed this—missed him. It was moments like these that made the distance and the time apart feel unbearable.

You shifted slightly, looking up at him. His eyes were soft, a little tired from the long day, but they lit up the moment they met yours. He smiles, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, voice low and comforting.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve been thinking,” you began, voice quiet but steady, “about how much I hate being apart from you. It's just hard sometimes, you know?”

Lando’s expression softened even more, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “I know,” he said quietly. “I hate it too. But we make it work, right? We always do.”

You nodded, taking a steadying breath before continuing. “We do. But it doesn’t have to be this way anymore.”

His brows furrowed slightly, curiosity and a hint of confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

You sat up a little, propping yourself on your elbows so you could look at him fully. “I was going to tell you earlier, but the day was so hectic, it completely slipped out of my mind,” you admitted, a small and nervous laugh escaping you. “But after the season ends, I’ll be moving to Monaco. To be with you.”

For a moment, Lando just stared at you, his expression blank as if he were processing your words. Then, as the realization hit, his face broke into the brightest smile you had seen all day.

“Wait—are you serious?” he asked, sitting up slightly, his hand framing your face.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as you saw the excitement in his eyes. “Yes, I’m serious. I’ve already made arrangements, and I’ll be moving after Christmas. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”

Lando did not waste another second. He pulled you into a deep, loving kiss, his lips warm and firm against yours. When he finally pulled back, his hands still cradling your face, and his grin was unstoppable.

“You’re amazing,” he said, voice filled with genuine happiness. “I can’t believe this. You’re really moving to Monaco?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, laughing softly at his excitement. “I want to be with you, Lan. No more long flights, no more months apart. Just us.”

He kissed you again, softer this time, as if he wanted to savor the moment. “This is the best news I’ve had all year,” he murmured against your lips. “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I do,” you teased, resting your forehead against his.

Lando chuckled, his arms wrapping around you again as he pulled you back down onto the bed. “We’re going to have the best time,” he said, excitement still bubbling over. “I can’t wait to spend time with you everyday. Monaco’s going to feel like home for both of us.”

The two of you stayed like that for a little while longer, wrapped up in each other and the excitement of what was to come. But as the exhaustion of the day began to creep in, you both decided it was time to call it a night.

“Shower?” Lando asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he nudged you gently.

You nodded, stretching a little before getting up. “Only if you promise not to pull some sneaky shit.” you warned, earning a laugh from him.

“No promises.” Lando shot back with a grin, taking both of your hands as the two of you headed towards the bathroom.

The shower was quiet, the steam and warmth washing away the remnants of the day as you leaned against him, your bodies moving in sync. It was intimate and calming—a small but meaningful reminder of what you had to look forward to in the months ahead.

When you finally climbed into bed, Lando pulled you close once more, arms wrapped securely around you. “I love you.” he whispered into the darkness, his voice heavy with sleep but filled with sincerity.

“I love you too.” you whispered back, closing your eyes.

As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Tomorrow might be hectic, but tonight, you were exactly where you needed to be.

The morning air was full with energy, and the McLaren garage was a hive of activity—today is the last race of the 2024 season. Engineers and mechanics moved with precision, finalizing last minute checks, while the hum of engines in the background added to the excitement. You had arrived earlier with Lando, his family, and Lily—Oscar’s girlfriend. It felt good to be surrounded by familiar faces, especially Lily, whose presence brought a comforting sense of normalcy amidst the ongoing chaos.

You were a private person by nature, someone who valued the quiet and personal over the public and the performative. While the world of Formula 1 was filled with spectacle and exposure, you had always kept your life out of the spotlight, sharing only what was necessary and only with those closest to you.

This is partially the main reason why the majority of Lando’s fanbase found themselves really intrigued by you. Unlike many others in his orbit, you didn’t have any public social media presence, and there were only rare glimpses of you, often in the background of celebratory posts or candid shots captured at races.

The only social media platform you used was instagram, and even that was private. On it, you only followed a select group of people—your family, Lando’s family, close friends, and a small circle that included a few grid drivers and their girlfriends. Lando, of course, was at the center of it all. The account was not a place for you to broadcast your whole life, but instead, it was a way to stay connected with those who mattered, sharing snippets of your world through carefully chosen photos or stories.

Your appearances at races were rare—it wasn’t for lack of interest or support but dictated by your own commitments and the overwhelming nature of the events themselves. The previous year—2023, had been especially demanding for you as you were in your final year at Parsons School of Design, pouring your energy into completing your degree. Between assignments, projects, and preparations for your graduation, attending races had been nearly impossible. That year, you had managed to make it to only a handful of events, but you knew Lando understood, he always does.

The 2024 season has been no different in terms of your limited attendance. Out of the twenty-four races, you had been present for just three: Miami—where Lando had his first win of the season, the Netherlands, and Singapore. Those three races, however, had been unforgettable. Lando had won all of them, each one holding its own significance, but none more so than Singapore.

Lando’s victory in Singapore had been very deeply personal for you, not only that he won in your home country, but your family had also been there to witness his win, and seeing Lando celebrate with your family after crossing the finish line was a memory that you would always go back to.

While you were familiar with the paddock and the people in it, you never felt entirely at home there. It was vast and vibrant, but it could also be very overwhelming, even isolating. You were not someone who can easily mingle with large groups, and though you were polite and cordial with other people, you didn’t forge many close connections.

However, there were exceptions, of course. Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, had become a friend early on, her warm, approachable, and easygoing nature made her one of the few people you felt comfortable around. Carlos and Lando’s close friendship meant you saw Rebecca often, and over time, your bond grew.

Then there was Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend. Similarly, Lily’s grounded and easygoing personality had drawn you in, especially with Lando and Oscar being teammates naturally brought you into her orbit. Much like Rebecca, Lily had a way of putting you at ease, and the two of them became your anchors whenever you were at a race, they were the one who ensured that you never felt out of place.

You really appreciated their presence more than you could ever express. Attending races, even with Lando by your side, often left you feeling out of place. It wasn’t that anyone treated you poorly, it was simply that the environment was so different from what you were used to. The noise, attention, and the sheer scale of it all—it could be a lot for someone like you. Rebecca and Lily understood this, and they had a way of making you feel less alone in the crowd.

As the garage filled with the chatter of team members and the faint cheers from the grandstands outside, you found yourself growing quieter. Your nerves had taken over, as they always did on race days, but this time, it was more heightened. The stakes were higher—this was McLaren’s chance to secure the Constructors’ Championship, a feat they hadn’t achieved in years. The weight of it pressed heavily on your chest, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Lily noticed your silence, her voice cutting through the noise as she leaned closer, whispering softly. “You okay? You’ve been awfully quiet since we got here.”

You managed a small smile, glancing at her briefly. “Just nervous. For both of them.” you admitted, voice quieter than usual.

She nodded, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “I get it. It’s a big day for them, but they’ve got this, and hey, if anyone’s a good luck charm, it’s definitely you.” she added with a wink, trying to lighten the mood.

Lily’s words made you chuckle softly, but the nervous energy bubbling inside you remained. Your eyes drifted towards Lando, who was standing near his car, already suited up and listening intently to his engineers. Seeing him like that reminded you why you always believed in him, even on the toughest of days.

As the minutes ticked closer to the start of the race, you knew you had to wish him luck. With a deep breath, you stepped away from Lily and made your way to Lando, weaving through the controlled chaos of the garage. Lando noticed you immediately, his expression softening as you approached. He turned to face you fully, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey.” he said, voice low but warm.

“Hey.” you replied, hands instinctively reaching for his. His gloves were already on, but you held them anyway, thumbs brushing against the fabric.

“I just wanted to say good luck again. I know how much this race means to you, to the entire team. But no matter what happens out there today, you’re always going to be my winner. My champion.” you said, voice steady despite the nerves swirling inside you.

Lando’s smile grew, and he took a small step closer, his gloved hands holding yours more firmly. “Thank you. It means everything to me that you’re here.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment. “I’ll be right here waiting for you when it’s over. Always.”

His eyes softened further, and without hesitation, Lando leaned in, lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It wasn’t long, but it was enough to steady both of you, grounding you before the storm ahead.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. “I’ll see you after, yeah?”

You nodded again, reluctantly letting go of his hands as he stepped back. Just as he turned toward his car, Lando glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a small, reassuring smile before climbing into the cockpit. As he began to settle in, one of the staff members approached you, handing over a pair of orange McLaren headphones. You thanked them with a polite smile and made your way back to where Lily and Lando’s family were waiting.

Lily gave you a knowing look as you rejoined her. “Feeling a little better?”

“A little,” you admitted, slipping on the headphones. “I’ll feel a lot better once this is over.”

She laughed softly, looping her arm through yours. “Same. But we’ve just got to believe in them.”

You nodded, glancing toward the starting grid displayed on the monitors. The cars were lining up, the atmosphere was filled with anticipation. Lando’s car was on the front, with Oscar on his right.

The race began with a level of intensity that immediately set your nerves on edge. Fifty-eight laps stretched ahead, but from the very start, chaos seemed to unfold every turn. Lando, starting on pole, managed a clean getaway and led the race. However, everything behind him seemed to descend into pandemonium.

Your heart jumped when Max, attempting to take P2, tagged Oscar’s rear tire. The collision sent both cars spinning off course, eliciting gasps from the garage. Checo and Valtteri collided shortly after, forcing Checo to retire for the entirety of the race, and Charles—against all odds, surged from P19 to P8. Ferrari clearly had their sights set on closing the 21 points gap in the Constructors’, and the pressure was immense.

The commentators were relentless. Max received a 10-second penalty for his collision with Oscar, and then Oscar himself had been handed a penalty of his own after making contact with Franco, which resulted in Franco’s retirement as well. Oscar’s chances of scoring major points were essentially over, and it became painfully clear that all the weight was now on Lando’s shoulders.

Your hands were clasped together tightly, your nerves refusing to settle. Every lap was a test of endurance and felt like an eternity. You could hear the engineers strategizing, discussing pit stops, tyre degradation, and maintaining the gap. A critical two-second pit stop gave Lando the edge he needed to remain ahead, but Carlos wasn’t far behind. He was relentless, desperately closing the gap wherever he could.

Your mind flashed back to the Singapore Grand Prix. That had been a race to remember, where Lando had led from start to finish, dominating with a 20-second gap to Max. It had been a nerve wracking yet exhilarating experience, but today was different. The margin was razor-thin. The gap between Lando and Carlos hovered around five seconds, and it felt like the entire race was balanced on the edge of a knife.

Your clasped hands are now resting against your lips as you silently prayed. You didn’t care to speak, afraid to jinx anything. Each lap brought a fresh wave of anxiety. You watched as Carlos pushed harder and harder, the gap shrinking ever so slightly, then stabilizing. It was a battle of wills, and all you could do was hope Lando’s calm precision behind the wheel would see him through.

As the final laps approached, your heart was pounding so loudly, and you were sure that everyone around you could hear it. The garage was a mix of tension and muted optimism, everyone holding their breath for the outcome they so desperately wanted.

When Lando finally crossed the checkered flag in first place, it felt like the air was punched out of you. For a moment, there was silence in your mind, and then the world came rushing back as the whole McLaren garage erupted in cheers.

Engineers, mechanics, and all of the staff jumped up and down, fists pumping in the air. Lando’s race engineer came over the radio, his voice cracking with emotions as he congratulated Lando not just on the win, but securing the Constructors’ Championship for McLaren.

You could not believe it. The realization of what had just happened hit you like a tidal wave, washing away all the tension and anxiety that had built up over the past fifty-eight laps. Lando had won. Not only had he won the race, but he is a runner up in the World Drivers’ Championship, and most of all, he had delivered McLaren their first Constructors’ Championship in twenty-six years.

It felt surreal. The garage continued celebrating around you, but for a moment, you stood frozen, taking it all in. The cheers, shouting, hugs, and the overwhelming sense of happiness that filled the air. Then, almost instinctively, you joined in. Something came over you, a burst of emotion you rarely let out, and you found yourself jumping up and down with everyone else, unable to contain the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins.

You could feel tears welling up before you even realized you were crying. Not just small tears either, but full, unrestrained sobs of happiness. You were crying so hard it was difficult to catch your breath, but you did not care. The weight of the moment was too much to hold in, you hugged Cisca tightly, burying your face against her shoulder as she squeezed you back. She, too, had tears in her eyes.

“He did it. He really did it.” her voice cracked.

“I’m so proud of him.” you managed to say between sobs, your voice trembling with emotions.

Cisca smiled through her own tears and cupped your cheeks for a moment, her pride mirroring your own. You turned next to Adam, giving him a quick but heartfelt hug before you turned to. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around her. She laughed softly, her own eyes glistening, and held you tightly.

“This is insane,” Lily whispered, shaking her head as she let out a breathless laugh. “He was amazing today.”

You nodded fervently, unable to articulate the storm of emotions inside you. Perfect didn’t even begin to describe it. Everything had gone right this week—no deleted lap times during qualifying, pole position won by a margin that silenced all doubts, led every lap of the race with a calm precision that made it look effortless, managing his tyres like a seasoned champion, even with Carlos breathing down his neck for most of the race, and most of all, staying composed under immense pressure, the kind of pressure that would have unraveled almost anyone else.

Your chest swelled with pride as you thought about it. Lando had brought back the crown to McLaren, a team that had not tasted this kind of glory in over two decades. Twenty-six long years since their last Constructors’ title, and Lando had done it, not just for himself but for the team, for the legacy.

This was not just a win. It was history, and you are here to witness all its glory. You felt overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, but beneath the tears and the adrenaline was an overwhelming sense of pride. Pride for Lando, who had worked tirelessly for this moment. Pride for McLaren, who had never given up, and pride for this race, this perfect ending to an unforgettable season.

You wiped your tears, a smile breaking through as you took a deep breath. Lando had really done it, and you could not have been happier to be by his side for it all.

The energy under the podium was incredible, sea of papaya erupting into cheers as the three drivers took their places. You stood close to Cisca, both of you craning your necks to get the best view of the podium. The wide smile on her face mirrored your own, both of you practically glowing with pride.

Charles stepped onto the third spot to a round of applause. Carlos followed, climbing to the second step, where the McLaren fans cheered for him too, though the cheers were louder, almost deafening, when Lando finally appeared. He bounded up to the top step, his face breaking into a wide, relieved smile as he took it all in—the crowd and cameras.

Lando looked happy, truly happy. For a brief moment, his eyes scanned the crowd below, and when they landed on you, his smile grew even brighter. Without thanking, you blew him a flying kiss, and you could see the subtle way his shoulders relaxed, grin softening into something so tender it made your heart skip a beat.

The British National Anthem filled the whole circuit, and everyone quieted down as they turned their attention to the podium. You stood there with your hands clasped, looking up at him as the British flag waved proudly above his head. Lando’s eyes stayed steady, his expression filled with a quiet pride, and you knew he was soaking in every second of this moment.

When the trophies were handed out, your emotions bubbled over again. As Lando lifted the winner’s trophy high into the air, you felt tears sting your eyes once more. You clapped so hard your palms began to sting, but you didn’t care.

“Yes, Lando!” you Found yourself shouting, your voice mixing with the cheers of the teams and fans around you. Beside you, Cisca let out a joyful whoop, and you both exchanged a quick, tearful hug.

“That’s our boy.” Cisca whispered, and you nodded.

Then came the Constructors’ trophy, a moment you had been waiting for all day. Zak stepped forward to receive it, raising it high above his head with both hands as the crowd erupted in cheers. The sight of that massive trophy, finally back in McLaren’s hands after twenty-six years, made your heart swell with pride.

It was time for the spraying of champagne, and Lando immediately did his iconic champagne pop, spraying everyone with abandon. You laughed as Lando and Carlos shared a grin, drenching Charles before turning on Zak. You couldn’t stop smiling, your cheeks starting to ache from the happiness as you snapped a few more photos of them celebrating.

Champagne drenched, Lando joined Zak once again at the front of the podium, and together they hoisted the winner’s and WCC trophy high. You quickly reached again for your phone, capturing a photo of the moment—the bright orange suits, glittering of the trophy, and ecstatic smiles on their faces. It was a moment worth preserving, a piece of history you would cherish forever.

It was pure happiness on that podium, and looking up at Lando, drenched in champagne, trophy in hand, and beaming like the sun—you felt like the luckiest person in the world to witness it all.

The crowd outside the FIA garage was still buzzing with post-race excitement. You stood among the throng, your eyes scanning the door every few seconds, waiting patiently for Lando to come out. It had been a whirlwind day, and while you understood the endless media obligations he had to fulfill, you were eager to see him again.

Rebecca caught your eye from across the way, standing slightly apart from the crowd, waiting for Carlos. Her tall, poised figure was impossible to miss, and a smile spread across your face as you walked over to her.

“Rebecca!” you greeted warmly, reaching out to give her a quick hug. “I’m so happy to see you! I feel like I haven’t seen you all weekend.”

“I know, it’s been crazy, hasn’t it?” Rebecca replied, her own smile lighting up her face. “But I’m so glad we could finally catch up. Congratulations on Lando’s win, by the way. What a race!”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm at the mention of Lando. “It still feels so surreal, and congratulations to Carlos too. P2, that’s amazing!”

Rebecca laughed softly. “Thank you. He’s been working so hard for this, but honestly, today was all about Lando. He was just unstoppable out there.”

You nodded, your chest filled up with pride at her words. “It was such a tough race, though. My nerves were shot the entire time.”

“I can imagine,” Rebecca said, her tone understanding. “But he did it, McLaren did it. What a way to end the season, right?”

Then, the sound of cheers caught both of your attention. Carlos appeared, his hair slightly damp from the champagne, and a grin spread across his face when he spotted Rebecca. She immediately stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

“Congratulations!” Rebecca said, voice soft but full of warmth.

Carlos returned her hug, murmuring something into her ear before turning to you. “Hey! Did you enjoy the race?”

“I did,” you said, smiling at him. “Congratulations on P2, Carlos. You were amazing out there.”

“Thank you,” he replied, his grin widened. “But the day belongs to Lando, doesn’t it? What a phenomenal drive from him.”

You couldn’t help but smile again, the pride you felt for Lando practically radiating from you. “He worked so hard for this.”

Carlos nodded knowingly. “He deserves every bit of it. Oh, and by the way,” he added, “he should be out any minute now. You won’t have to wait much longer.”

“Thanks, Carlos.” you said, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of seeing Lando again.

Carlos and Rebecca began to walk off as you stayed put, eyes drifting back to the FIA garage door, your anticipation building with each passing second.

Then, the crowd erupted in applause and cheers the moment Lando came out from the FIA garage. You joined in, clapping enthusiastically with the whole McLaren team members, media, and fans as they all celebrated him—the man of the hour, but Lando’s eyes were immediately searching for one person—you.

Lando spotted you in an instant and, without hesitation, made a run towards you. You barely had a moment to process it before he wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into a hug so tight it left you breathless. You could feel his sweat, mixed with champagne warm against yours.

Before you could say anything, he lifted you up and twirled you around. He then put you down, tilted your face up, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so filled with emotion it made your head dizzy. There was no shyness in the way he kissed you—it was all passion, relief, and gratitude.

You could hear the cameras clicking furiously around you, capturing every second of the moment, but you didn’t care. Neither did Lando, it seemed, as his hands stayed firmly on your waist. When you pulled apart, you were smiling against his lips, your heart swelling as he looked at you with pure adoration.

“You did it.” You whispered.

“I did it,” he echoed, his breath warm on your skin. Then he nuzzled his face into your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he inhaled deeply, grounding himself in your presence. “God, I missed you out there.” He murmured softly, voice muffled against your skin.

You stroked the back of his neck gently, still holding him close. “I’m so proud of you,” you said, boice steady but thick with emotion. “You drove like a champion today. I can’t wait for next season, my love. It’s going to be your year, I just know it.”

Lando pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze soft but sparkling with determination. “It’s our year,” he said firmly, his voice low but confident. “None of this would’ve been possible without you. I love you.”

You felt your cheeks flush at his words, and your chest tightened with overwhelming affection. “I love you too.”

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers with his. Lando held your hand tightly, almost as if he didn’t want to let you go, even as the media and McLaren staff began to encroach on his space.

“I have to finish the media stuff,” he said reluctantly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles and bringing it over to his lips, apologizing for having to leave you again soon. “But I’ll see you right after, I promise. We’ll celebrate.”

“I’ll be waiting.” You said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.

After a hectic weekend that included celebrating McLaren’s Constructors’ Championship win in Bahrain with the crown prince, attending festivities at McLaren Technology Centre, and dressing to the nines for the FIA Awards, you and Lando finally returned home to his Monaco apartment. The calm of the familiar space was a welcome change from the high-energy chaos of the past few days, even though you knew it would be short-lived.

The December calendar was packed—at least for you, and with Lando tagging along. There was little time to breathe before the next string of obligations began. You and Lando would be flying again soon to Singapore to attend the wedding of Colin Khoo and Araminta Lee, a lavish affair that had already been dubbed as Singapore’s wedding of the century.

The Khoos and Lees were families deeply tied to yours—Colin being your cousin Nick’s best friend and practically an honorary member of your family, while Araminta’s younger sister, Sophia, had been your high school classmate, someone you remembered fondly for her warmth and kindness. These connections meant that your presence was not just requested, it was expected, especially given how your families’ businesses were intertwined.

However, the wedding itself was not the only commitment pulling you to Singapore. You were set to arrive days before the ceremony to attend Araminta’s bachelorette party, while Lando had been invited to Colin’s bachelor’s party. On top of that, your Ah Ma had scheduled one of her signature dinner parties—a must-attend event. The December social calendar wasn’t just busy, it was a finely tuned balancing act, with every minute accounted for.

After Singapore, you would fly to the UK to spend Christmas with Lando’s family. Then, it’s back again to Singapore for the New Year’s Eve celebrations with your family, a mix of traditions and festivities that always made the transition into a new year special. It would be exhausting, but you were accustomed to juggling personal commitments and obligations that came with your families’ global connections.

Amidst the chaos, there was an underlying sense of excitement. December was always hectic, but this year, it carried a certain weight of celebration and happiness. Even with the endless travel, extravagant parties, and obligations, there was comfort in knowing that you and Lando were navigating it all together.

You and Lando have 24 hours to go before your flight to Singapore, and you both stood in the bedroom, surrounded by open suitcases and neatly folded piles of clothes. The room buzzed with quiet energy as the two of you packed, double-checking everything to make sure nothing essential would be left behind. Lando had his usual approach—casual, unbothered, and occasionally tossing random stuff into his suitcase. While you, you were methodical, going down your checklist and catergorizing every outfit and item for the busy schedule ahead.

As you neatly folded a pair of trousers into your suitcase, you glanced over at Lando, who was holding up yet another hoodie and contemplating packing it. You let out a soft sigh, setting your clothes aside.

“Love,” you began, voice soft but teasing, “I know that hoodies and sweatshirt are your favorite, but you do remember my Ah Ma’s dinner party, right?”

Lando looked at you with mock indignation, a playful grin tugging at his lip. “Hey, what’s wrong with being comfortable? Hoodies are versatile.”

You laughed lightly and shook your head. “You’re not going to convince Ah Ma that hoodies are versatile.”

“But she loves me, so does it really matter what I wear?” he looked at you, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

You let out a chuckle. “She does love you, but she’s still very particular about dress codes. Hoodies won’t cut it, no matter how much she adores you. Trust me, formal is the only way to go.”

Lando groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “Formal? Again? Haven’t I worn enough suits this past few days already?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at his silly antics, you leaned over him and gently squished his cheeks between your hands, making him pout slightly.

“It’s only for a few hours, babe,” you said with mock seriousness, planting a quick kiss on his puckered lips. “You can survive. Also, our fit for the wedding was flown ahead to Singapore already.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer. “Really? You had our outfits sent ahead? That’s very fancy of you,” he teased, voice warm and playful as his fingers lightly traced your waist.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. “It wasn’t my idea—it was my Mom’s. She didn’t want us stressing about anything last-minute, so yes, everything’s already in Singapore, ready for the wedding.”

“Alright, I’ll dress properly. For you, and your terrifyingly strict Ah Ma.” he said, voice muffled by your hands.

“Thank you.” you pressed another kiss on his lips, then wrapped your arms around his neck. “I promise that it’ll be worth it, and besides, our outfits go so well together. We’ll be looking extra cute.”

Lando pulled you closer. “That’s the only reason I’m agreeing to this,” he joked, pressing a kiss on your lips. “Because we’ll look cute.”

With everything packed, you stepped back and returned to your checklist. “Now, let’s go through everything one more time,” you said, grabbing the notepad from your bedside table. “We can’t afford to leave anything important behind.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his tone laced with humor. “We? I feel like you’re the one in charge here.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you replied, giving him a pointed look. “I love you so much, but you forget things. Like all the time. So yes, I’m in charge. Just let me do this.”

Lando raise his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, boss. Whatever you say.” but the warmth in his voice and the way his eyes softened when he looked at you says that he did not mind one bit.

The private jet touched down in Singapore just as the clock struck three in the morning. The hum of the engines winding down felt like a soothing lullaby after the whirlwind of travel. As the jet taxied to the private tarmac, you stretched slightly in your seat, trying to shake off the haze of exhaustion that clung to you live a heavy blanket. It had been days of nonstop movement. From New York to Dubai to Monaco, and now, to Singapore—you were running on fumes.

One of your family’s drivers was already waiting by the car as you and Lando stepped off the jet. The humid Singapore air embraced you like a familiar friend, but you were too tired to notice it fully. Lando, looking equally worn out but managing a faint smile, grabbed your hand to guide you down the stairs. The driver greeted you both warmly, holding the car door open as you slipped inside.

The ride to your home in the high-rise district was quiet, with the city’s nightlife slowly fading into the early morning calm. You leaned your head against the window, eyes fluttering shut as the car glided through the streets. Every now and then, Lando’s hand would squeeze yours gently, keeping you awake despite your jet-lagged haze.

When the car passed through your front gates and stopped on your front door, you stumbled out first, kicking off your sneakers as soon as you stepped inside your home. The plush carpet felt like heaven beneath your feet. Lando followed close behind, carrying a couple of bags despite his own fatigue.

You muttered something incoherent about needing to unpack but barely made it past the living room before surrendering to your exhaustion. With a small groan, you collapsed onto the soft white couch, burying your face into one of the throw pillows.

“I’ll just close my eyes for a second,” you mumbled, voice trailing off as sleep claimed you.

Lando chuckled softly from where he stood by the entrance, arms full of bags. “A second, huh?” he murmured, watching as you curled up tighter.

He set the bags down carefully, and crossed the room to where you lay. Kneeling by the couch, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Out cold already,” he said quietly, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

Despite his own exhaustion, Lando moved with quiet determination. Slipping an arm under your knees and another beneath your back, he lifted you up effortlessly. You stirred slightly, mumbling something that he couldn’t make out, but didn’t wake.

“Come on, sleepy head.” he whispered, adjusting his grip as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Navigating the familiar layout of your Singapore home, Lando easily found his way to the master bedroom. He nudged the door open with his foot and carefully placed you on the bed, taking extra care not to jostle you. You sighed softly in your sleep, instinctively shifting to get comfortable as soon as you hit the mattress.

Standing back for a moment, Lando shook his head with a small laugh. “You really pushed yourself this week,” he said quietly to himself.

Tugging the duvet from beneath you, he draped it over your sleeping form before heading back out to bring in the rest of the luggage inside the house. Once everything was inside, Lando returned to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, his hand resting slightly on your shoulder. You didn’t stir, and he just smiled to himself.

“Guess unpacking can wait ‘til later,” he said softly.

Standing up, he turned off the lights, with only the soft glow of the city filtering through the curtains casting a gentle warmth over the whole room. With everything settled, he changed into some comfortable clothes and climbed into the bed beside you, wrapping an arm protectively around your waist as sleep finally overtook him too.

The soft afternoon light streamed through the curtains when you stirred awake, slowly coming back to consciousness. Stretching lazily under the covers, you blinked a few times before turning your head. Lando was already wide awake, leaning against the headboard with his phone in hand, scrolling idly. The peacefulness on his face made you smile softly. Sensing your movement, he glanced down at you, a warm grin spreading across his lips.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmured, setting his phone down on the bedside table. Lando leaned down to kiss you softly, his lips warm and familiar. “Finally decided to join the land of the living?”

“How long was I out?” you asked, voice still raspy from sleep as you shifted to prop yourself slightly.

“Hmm,” he murmured, pretending to think as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “A solid eleven hours, give or take. I think that might be a record for you.”

“Eleven hours?” you said, eyes widening in mock disbelief. “Well, I deserved that. That’s the most proper sleep I’ve gotten in days.”

“You definitely needed it,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’ve been running on fumes.”

Instead of getting up and getting started on unpacking your things, you nestled yourself against Lando’s chest, letting out a content sigh as his arm settled securely around you—your things can wait. His other hand picked up his phone again, resuming whatever he had been scrolling through.

“What are you looking at?” you asked curiously, voice muffled against his shirt.

“Just catching up on messages and stuff,” he replied, his thumb flicking across the screen. “Few banter with Maximilian. Nothing too exciting.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his fingers idly traced small circles on your arm—it was the kind of peace you hadn’t realized you craved after the hectic days leading up to this.

After a comfortable silence, you tilted your head to look up at him. “Don’t forget,” you reminded him gently, “tonight’s my Ah Ma’s dinner party. My family will be sending a car to pick us up at six to drive us to her estate.”

He groaned playfully, letting his head fall back against the headboard. “Already? I was just starting to feel human again.”

“You’ll survive,” you teased, reaching up to pat his cheeks softly with a small laugh. “Besides, you love Ah Ma.”

“That’s true,” he admitted with a grin. “But does she love me enough to excuse me from wearing a suit?”

“Not a chance, my love,” you said, shaking your head. “She might adore you, but rules are rules. No hoodies at Ah Ma’s dinner table.”

He laughed softly. “Fine, fine. I’ll play along.”

Satisfied, you let yourself relax against him again, savoring the calm for another thirty minutes before you decided it was time to get moving. You sat up, stretching your arms above your head before climbing out of bed.

You noticed that you were still dressed in your flight clothes, so you opened your closet and pulled out a pair of comfortable home clothes, quickly changing. As you tied your hair up, you glanced back at Lando, who was still lounging on the bed, scrolling through his phone again.

“I’m going downstairs to grab a snack. Wanna come?” you said softly.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, finally setting his phone aside and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. As he stood and stretched, he added casually, “oh, by the way, Chris dropped by earlier. He brought us some of your favorite food.”

“Really?” you asked, brightening at the mention of your second brother. “What did he bring?”

“Everything, I think,” Lando replied with a grin, following you out of the room. “Laksa, chicken rice, sambal stingray—it’s downstairs. He figured we’d be too tired to cook, and, well, he’s not wrong.”

“Chris is the best,” you said fondly, making your way towards the kitchen. “And he definitely knows you can’t cook to save your life.”

“Hey!” Lando protested, feigning offense. “I can cook!”

You shot him a skeptical look over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Babe, toast doesn’t count.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around your waist while you walked. “Good thing I’ve got you, then.”

“Geez, what would you do without me, huh?” you teased, and he just chuckled.

Lando helped you unpack the containers of food that Chris had dropped off, carefully setting everything onto the counter. You grabbed a few plates and bowls from the cupboard, handing some to Lando while you began separating the dishes. The aroma of spices and freshly cooked rice filled the kitchen, reminding you just how much you had missed authentic Singaporean food.

“Baby, careful with that,” you said, gesturing toward the sambal stingray as you placed it on a plate. “I already know you’re not touching this one.”

“Yeah, no chance,” Lando replied with a playful grimace, taking a step back as if the dish might bite him. “Fish and me, we’re not friends. You already know that.”

You laughed, setting the plate down and moving on to the chicken rice. “Well, I figured as much. I separated the chicken rice for you since it’s the only thing here you’ll actually eat.”

“You’re too good to me,” he teased, kissing you on the forehead and pulling over a chair, sitting down at the dining table. “Though, to be fair, I think chicken rice is objectively the best option here.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you carried the food to the table, placing his plate in front of him and your own dish next to it. “It’s not that you don’t like the other options,” you teased, sitting down in front of him, “you’re just a picky eater, babe.”

Lando picked up his fork, grinning. “I’m not picky. I just know what I like.”

“And apparently what you like is the safest, most neutral option,” you joked, scooping a bit of rice into your mouth. The flavors were as rich and satisfying as you remembered, and for a moment, you closed your eyes to savor it. “God, I missed this so much.”

Lando watched you, amused. “I think Chris might love you more than I do with how often he brings you food.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Well, he is my brother.”

As the two of you ate, Lando paused between bites to ask, “is Nick coming tonight?”

You nodded, wiping the corner of your mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, he is. He arrived yesterday, and he’s bringing Rachel with him, too. He wants to introduce her to Ah Ma.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly in interest. “Rachel, huh? That’s a big step.”

“It is,” you said, nodding thoughtfully. “But I think it’s the right time. They’ve been dating for over a year now, and Rachel’s really nice—very sweet, actually, and you can tell how much she loves Nick. I think she’ll handle tonight well.”

“I remember her from New York,” Lando said, gesturing with his form. “The double date? She seemed lovely then.”

“She is,” you agreed with a soft smile, thinking back to the time you all spent together in New York. “I’ve grown to love her. She became like a big sister to me, and a breath of fresh air. Rachel is really good for Nicky. I just hope everything goes smoothly tonight.”

“Remember when I met Ah Ma?” he said with a teasing grin.

You laughed at the memory, shaking your head. “Oh, don’t remind me. I was so nervous about how she’d react. You were the first person I ever brought to meet her.”

“Well, it went pretty well, all things considered,” he said, taking another bite of chicken rice. “Though I think she was testing me with all those questions about my plans for the future.”

“She was,” you admitted with a grin. “That’s her way of showing she cares, and you passed with flying colors, obviously. Ah Ma adores you, she even calls you a nickname, she rarely does that unless it’s her grandchildren.”

“Guess I made a good impression, then,” he said proudly.

“Of course you did!” you laughed.

“But Ah Ma’s a tough crowd, though. Think she’ll approve?” Lando asked, finishing a bite of chicken.

You leaned back in your chair, considering. “I think she will. Rachel’s got that quiet elegance about her, you know? She’s not flashy, not trying to prove anything. Ah Ma values that.”

“Well, if she’s got your seal of approval, she’ll be fine,” Lando said confidently, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand reassuringly. “And hey, if anything gets too intense, at least you'll have me there to lighten the mood.”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand back. “That’s true. You’ve got a way of making everyone like you.”

“Except for the sambal stingray,” he quipped, shooting a playful glance at the slightly untouched plate on the table.

The moment you finished your plate of food, you stood up from the table and made your way over to the fridge, searching for something sweet to finish off your meal. As you opened the fridge, you noticed a small box nestled on the top shelf with a red ribbon wrapped around it and a handwritten note on it. You quickly recognized your mother’s neat and elegant handwriting.

“I hope you and Lando enjoy this sweet treat. Stocked up your fridge for your stay, don’t forget to eat well. Love, Mom.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed the box and headed back to the table. “Look what my mom sent us,” you said, setting the box down in front of Lando with a grin. “Durian puffs!”

Lando gave you a wary look, his face already showing a bit of hesitation. “Durian puffs? You know I’m not exactly a fan of durian,” he said with a playful tone in his voice. “That stuff is…intense.”

You laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. “I know, I know. But trust me, these are different. They’re not as bad as the whole fruit, and they’re amazing when done right. My mom’s been baking them for years, you’ve got to try at least one bite.”

His eyes flickered to the box with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “I don’t know, babe,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “The last time you tried to get me to eat durian…I wasn’t exactly sold on it.”

You raised an eyebrow playfully, knowing it would take a bit of coaxing. “It’s not the same,” you said, opening the box and revealing the perfectly golden, puffed pastries inside. The familiar scent of durian filled the air, and you could see Lando’s nose wrinkle a little. “Come on, just one bite. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Lando stared at the puff for a moment, clearly reluctant but still amused by your insistence. “Okay, fine,” he muttered, finally giving in. “But only because you’re looking at me like that.”

You smiled and grabbed one of the puffs, holding it out to him. “It’s not bad, babe, I promise. I used to eat these all the time when I’m here, and I’ve really missed them. It’s hard to find one of these in New York.”

He took a deep breath and hesitantly leaned forward, allowing you to tear off a small piece of the puff for him. Lando looked at it as if it were a challenge, then took a tentative bite.

You watched his expression carefully, curious to see how he would react. At first, his eyes widened slightly, and he chewed slowly, processing the taste. “Okay, I’ll admit,” he began, voice reluctant but tinged with surprise, “it’s not as bad as I thought.”

You smiled, delighted that he was starting to come around. “See? Told you. It’s a lot better than the whole fruit.”

Lando shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. It’s not terrible, but I’m not sure I’m ready to eat a whole one on my own.”

You grinned, knowing that wasn’t a problem. “That’s okay, we can share. It’s a pretty big puff anyway.”

The two of you ended up sharing the durian puff, breaking it into smaller pieces. You were glad Lando had tried it, he may not have been a huge fan, but at least he hadn’t refused outright this time. There was something so comforting about the familiar taste of home, especially when it was shared with someone who, despite their initial doubts, was willing to try new things for you.

He looked at the remaining half of the puff and then at you. “Alright, you win. I’m not sure I’ll ever be obsessed with durian, but I’ll give you this one. It’s better than I expected.”

“Glad to hear it, babe,” you smiled warmly, happy that he had at least made the effort. “Maybe next time you’ll be the one going for the second puff.”

The moment the clock struck six, you were already standing in the living room, ready and waiting for the car your family had sent to take you to your Ah Ma’s estate. You smoothed the fabric of your black popeline dress, its cinched waist and delicate midi length giving you an air of effortless elegance, perfect choice for the evening. Lando stood beside you, impeccably dressed in his black suit with the two buttons of his crisp white shirt left undone, the effortless style topped off with a tailored black coat. He looks very dashing—confident, yet understated in a way Lando could only pull off. You turned towards him, giving his outfit a final once-over.

“Hold still,” you murmured, dusting off an imaginary speck on his shoulder. Your fingers lingered there for a moment, gently straightening the lapel of his coat.

Lando chuckled softly, watching you fuss over him. “I think I’m good, babe,” he said, voice low and amused.

“You look so perfect,” you admitted with a small smile, your eyes meeting his.

As you stepped back to admire the two of you in the mirror, a flutter of nervousness settled in your chest. Before you could dwell on it further, the sound of the car pulling up in the driveway broke the silence. Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the soft hum of the engine outside.

He noticed the slight change in your expression and reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Lando leaned down slightly, pressing a gentle and quick kiss to your lips.

“You okay, baby?” he asked softly, his warm hand resting briefly against your waist, and eyes searching yours.

You nodded but hesitated before answering. “I don’t know why I’m nervous,” you admitted, voice barely above whisper.

Lando smiled, warm and understanding, and laced his fingers with yours. “Well, don’t be,” he said, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. “I’m here with you. It’s going to be fine.”

The way his hand fit so perfectly with yours instantly eased the tension you did not realize you were holding. You took a deep breath, letting Lando’s presence ground you, and smiled back at him.

“You’re right,” you said softly.

Together, you walked to the door, where the chauffeur was already waiting. You offered a polite greeting, and Lando followed suit. The chauffeur gave a respectful nod and stepped forward to open the car door. Lando turned his attention back to you, placing his hand gently above your head to ensure you didn’t bump it on the way in.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice low and attentive. He guided the folds of your dress to make sure it didn’t catch in the door.

Once you were in, Lando slid in beside you, adjusting his coat as he leaned back against the plush seat. The door closed softly behind him with a thud, and the hum of the engine filled the silence as the car began to move.

The car ride was smooth, the city lights of Singapore streaming past the tinted windows in a soft blur. You leaned forward slightly. “Is my family already at Ah Ma’s?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the chauffeur replied politely. “They arrived a little while ago.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, thank you.” you replied, tone warm but measured.

“See?” he said softly, leaning a little closer. “Nothing to worry about.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his calm reassurance. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted, relaxing into the seat.

As the car turned onto Tyersall Avenue, the familiar sight of the estate’s discreet entrance came into view. There was no house number, no grand signage indicating its presence, it was just two white pillars framing the hidden driveway and a rusty, almost-forgotten sign partially obscured by overgrown foliage that read Tyersall Park. It was understated, nearly invisible to passerby, yet exuded an air of exclusivity and history.

The car slowed down as it approached the entrance, and the soft crunch of tyres on gravel indicated the start of the long, winding path to the estate itself. The path dipped slightly, then climbed up a small hill, where a second set of gates awaited. These gates were far more imposing than the first—ornate yet fortified, with a guardhouse attached.

The guards stationed in the second gate were not your ordinary security personnel. They were Gurkhas, known as one of the skilled and feared soldiers in the world. Their presence was a quiet but powerful reminder of the importance and prestige of the estate they protected. They moved swiftly and efficiently, conducting a quick check of the vehicle and exchanging a word with the chauffeur. Then the gates creaked open, revealing another path towards the estate.

Beyond the gates, an avenue lined with towering palm trees stretched out before you, their elegant fronds swaying gently in the night breeze. The avenue seemed endless, a perfect symmetry of nature and design, drawing the eye toward the glowing silhouette at the very end.

There, perched at the top of the hill, was your Ah Ma’s estate. It was as magnificent as you always remembered, illuminated softly against the night sky. The sprawling sixty-four acre mansion stood like a timeless monument, its intricate details and architectural grandeur untouched by the passing years. The sheer scale of the place was enough to leave anyone awestruck.

Even though Lando had seen it before, he couldn’t help but let out a soft exhale as the estate came fully into view. He turned slightly to glance at you, expression a mix of admiration and disbelief. You caught his gaze and smiled, already accustomed to the reaction the estate always elicited. The car began its slow ascent up the final path of the driveway, the palms on either side growing taller as you approached the estate’s main entrance.

Lando stepped out of the car first, then turned to offer you his hand. You placed your fingers gently in his, letting him steady you as you stepped out. The cool evening breeze brushed against your skin as the soft hum of conversations and the melodic sound of the live jazz band spilled from the open doors of the estate. Lando closed the car door behind you, his other hand naturally finding its place on the small of your back.

The grandeur of the evening was already evident. The driveway was lined with luxury cars, some of which you instantly recognized as belonging to your cousins. The valet attendants worked with practiced efficiency, guiding the vehicles into neat rows, their movements sharp against the backdrop of the estate's golden lights.

You had not expected this many guests for tonight’s dinner party. But as you took it all in, you realized that it was your Ah Ma who decided to throw the party. She never did things by halves.

Walking toward the entrance, you glance up at Lando, who offers you a small, knowing smile. The two of you ascended the short flight of steps together, and as the ornate doors swung open, the dinner party unfolded before you in full splendor.

The grand foyer was alive with movement and sound. Guests mingled in their elegant attire, their laughter and chatter blending harmoniously with the smooth melodies of the jazz band playing in the corner. Servers moved gracefully through the crowd, balancing trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

You were greeted by a server offering a silver bowl filled with water to rinse your hands—a subtle nod to tradition. You dipped your fingers in, feeling the coolness against your skin, before drying them with the soft cloth that came with it. Lando followed your lead, his actions slightly tentative but seamless nonetheless.

As the two of you moved further into the house, your eyes scanned the room, searching for familiar faces. The dazzling opulence of the house was on full display tonight—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the polished marble floors gleamed beneath the soft glow of candlelight.

Everywhere you turned, there were familiar faces—relatives chatting in small groups, family friends laughing over shared memories, and acquaintances dressed to the nines.

Still, the absence of one particular couple was glaring. You glanced around, expecting to see Nick and Rachel somewhere among the crowd, but there was no sign of them yet. But, you quickly spotted your parents standing near the grand staircase, deep in conversation with one of your family’s close friends and business partners. You nudged Lando gently, and together you made your way over to them.

The moment your parents saw you, their faces lit up. Your father greeted you first, his smile wide and welcoming. “Ah, you’re finally here,” he said warmly, pulling you into a brief embrace before turning his attention to Lando. “Lando! It’s good to see you again.”

Lando grinned, shaking your father’s hand firmly. “It’s great to see you too, sir.”

Your father wasted no time, immediately congratulating him. “That was an incredible race in Dubai—phenomenal drive! Congratulations on the win, both yours and McLaren’s. It's very well deserved.”

“Thank you. It has been an incredible season,” Lando replied, voice filled with modesty. “But it was a team effort, really.”

The two of them quickly fell into a deep conversation, with your father mostly asking about the race and McLaren’s celebration plans, clearly very eager to hear more.

You turned to your mother, who had been quietly observing the exchange with a smile. “Mom, where’s Ah Ma?” you asked, leaning in slightly to avoid raising your voice over the lively music.

“She’s still getting ready,” your mother replied with a knowing look. “You know how she is with these things, everything has to be perfect.”

You just nodded, though you couldn’t help but glance around the room again, taking in the number of people. “I thought this was only supposed to be a small dinner party,” you said, with a hint of surprise in your tone. “It looks like Ah Ma invited half of Singapore.”

She chuckled softly, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Ah Ma decided to invite everyone. She said that it’s been too long since she’s hosted a big gathering. Besides,” she added, lowering her voice slightly, “her Tan Hua is going to bloom tonight. She wanted everyone to see it.”

The mention of Tan Hua caught your attention. It is a rare flower known for its elusive and short-lived bloom—a source of pride for your Ah Ma. It was not just a flower, it was a spectacle, a family event in itself. You smiled faintly, imagining her excitement as she planned this evening down to the last detail.

Your mother smiled knowingly at the look on your face. “Don’t worry, my dear, everything will be perfect. Your Ah Ma wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You had only been standing with your family for a few minutes when you caught sight of Nick and Rachel making their way into the house. Relieved and happiness washed over you at the sight of the couple, and with a polite smile, you gently excised yourself and Lando to go greet them. As you approached, Nick’s face lit up, and Rachel’s warm smile mirrored your own. You immediately pulled Nick into a hug, patting his back affectionately.

“Nicky! I’m so glad you’re finally here,” you said, stepping back slightly to greet Rachel. “It’s good to see you,” you said sincerely, your smile widening.

Rachel replied softly, “we wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Before you could even mutter a new response, the unmistakable voice of your cousin Eddie cut into the moment. Inserting himself into the conversation with his usual air of self-importance.

“Nicky boy! Long time no see!” He clapped Nick on the shoulder, then turned his sharp gaze to Rachel. “And this must be Rachel! I’m Eddie.” he said, tone teetering on the edge of charming and patronizing.

Rachel, ever polite, offered her hand for a brief shake and smiled lightly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered to you and Lando next, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ah, I see you’ve already met the princess and her prince.”

The exaggerated emphasis on the titles almost made you roll your eyes. You didn’t bother hiding the subtle tilt of your head as you fixed him with a pointed look, but Lando only smiled faintly, his hand resting at your back.

Eddie was treading carefully. He always does whenever he’s around you, especially after the infamous incident when you were kids. You had punched him squarely on the face for saying something particularly offensive, and he had cried so loudly that half of the family came running to see what had happened.

That memory was enough to make Eddie measure his words around you now, though it did not stop him from occasionally pushing boundaries. Still, you knew he had nothing bad to say about Lando. Eddie, despite his many faults and flaws, respected wealth, and Lando’s background made him untouchable in Eddie’s eyes.

He shifted his attention back to Rachel, his smile tightening into something that looked more like calculation. “So, Rachel, from which Chu family are you from?” Eddie asked, the question clearly designed to assess her pedigree. “Chu Investments? Chu Shipping? Chu Constructions? Or maybe Chu Real Estate?” he rattled off with confidence, pausing after each one as if expecting immediate recognition.

Rachel, to her credit, handled it with grace. She shook her head gently at each suggestion, her polite smile never faltering. “No, I’m not from any of those families,” she replied, voice calm and pleasant.

Eddie didn’t seem deterred by her response. In fact, it only seemed to fuel his determination. “Really? Huh. Well, you must be from somewhere,” he said, leaning slightly as he named another family one after another, tone growing more insistent with each guess.

You watched the exchange with thinly veiled annoyance, your patience wearing thinner with every word out of Eddie’s mouth. You glanced at Rachel, who remained composed but was clearly growing weary of the interrogation. Nick, standing protectively beside her, shot you a look that said he was just as over Eddie’s antics as you are.

Eddie, oblivious to the awkwardness he was creating, pressed on. “Come on, you can tell us,” he said, as if her lineage were some kind of secret puzzle only he could solve. “Surely you’re related to one of the prominent families. There aren’t that many Chus of significance, you know.”

The annoyance just flickered greatly in your chest, not just for Rachel’s sake but for Fiona’s as well. Fionna, who stood a short distance away, casting occasional glance at her husband with that familiar expression of quiet resignation. You had seen that look too many times, the silent endurance of someone used to being overshadowed by Eddie’s insufferable personality. Events like this were her only reprieve, and whenever you were around, you made it a point to keep Eddie in check, and tonight would be no different.

“Eddie,” you said, voice calm but firm, cutting through his monologue like a knife. “I think Rachel’s already answered your question.”

Eddie faltered for a moment, mouth half-open as he turned to look at you. There was a flicker of something, annoyance perhaps, but it quickly disappeared and was replaced by his usual smug expression.

“Oh, of course,” he said smoothly, though his tone was anything but apologetic. “I was just curious, that’s all.”

“Anyway,” you said brightly, offering her a reassuring smile, and steered the conversation away from Eddie entirely, “I’m so glad you both could make it. Ah Ma will be thrilled to see you.”

Rachel returned your smile, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Thank you.”

Eddie clearly sensed that his moment in the spotlight was over, he gave a small, self-important sniff and stepped back. You did not miss the way his gaze lingered on Rachel for a second longer than necessary before he excused himself, most likely off to find another conversation where he could insert himself.

“Thank you for that,” Nick muttered as soon as Eddie was out of earshot, voice quiet but sincere.

You waved it off with a small laugh. “It’s literally nothing,” you said lightly, though the underlying frustration lingered. “Eddie just can’t help himself sometimes.”

Lando turned to you, brows raised in curiosity. “So, has anyone ever knocked some sense into him? Or is he still walking around thinking he’s God’s gift to everyone?”

Nick, unable to contain himself, let out a laugh. “Oh, there’s definitely someone who knocked him out. Literally,” he said, motioning towards you with a tilt of his head.

“You?!” Lando exclaimed, laughing.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “In my defense,” you said evenly, “Eddie was much worse when we were kids. He’s always been a menace, constantly looking down on people, and giving all of his nanny a hard time. Someone had to do something.”

“And you did, all right.” Nick snorted. “He cried like a baby. I still remember his face, all red and snotty. It was priceless.”

Lando laughed, eyes gleaming with both amusement and pride. “I can’t believe I’m only hearing this story now. You never told me you could throw a punch.”

“I only did it because he deserved it,” you replied, crossing your arms lightly. “And don’t ever get any ideas. I’m not planning to make a habit out of it.”

Nick shook his head, still grinning. “Trust me, he’s toned it down around her ever since. Eddie might be insufferable, but even he’s smart enough to know not to push his luck twice.”

The conversation then shifted, with Nick and Rachel both congratulating Lando on his win in Dubai. “By the way, congrats again,” Nick said, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “That was one hell of a race.”

“Thank you,” Lando replied, tone modest but appreciative.

“We watched the whole race,” Rachel added, smiling warmly. “It was really incredible. You really deserved that win.”

“Speaking of race,” Nick grinned mischievously and turned to you. “The camera caught a great moment during the podium ceremony.”

You immediately knew where this was going and groaned. “Oh no. Don’t.”

Nick ignored you. “You should’ve seen her, Lando. The camera panned to her during the ceremony, and there she was, ugly crying like a soap opera actress.”

“It was actually really sweet. You could tell how proud she was.” Rachel giggled, covering her mouth.

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “I was emotional, okay? It was a big moment.”

Lando glanced at you, his expression softening. “I thought it was cute,” he said simply, earning a playful scoff from you.

After a few more minutes of lighthearted conversation, Nick checked his watch. “We should probably go find Mom, I still need to introduce Rachel to her.”

You winced slightly but kept your tone encouraging. “Good luck,” you said sincerely. “I hope it goes well.”

Rachel gave you a grateful smile. “Thank you. Fingers crossed.”

Nick, ever the joker, winked at you. “Don’t worry. If it doesn’t, I’ll call you to change her mind.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as they walked away. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

When Nick and Rachel left, you and Lando wandered into one of the quieter corners of the house, a haven away from the bustling party. The dim lighting and the soft hum of conversation filtering through the walls made the space feel intimate and the warm aroma of desserts and dumplings filled the air, a bubble of calm amidst the grandeur of your Ah Ma’s estate. Lando sat close to you on the plush couch, dessert plates balanced on the small glass coffee table in front.

Lando picked up a delicate slice of kueh lapis with his fork and took a bite, humming appreciatively at the sweetness. “This is dangerous,” he said, leaning back comfortably. “Jon’s definitely going to say something when I step on the scales.”

You chuckled, leaning into his shoulders. “Oh, just wait until Ah Ma sees you. She’ll tell you to eat more and probably have the kitchen make an entire feast just for you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Ah ma’s great, but I don’t think I can keep up. You saw how much food was at dinner alone.”

“Ah Ma loves feeding people,” you replied with a small smile, reaching for one of the dumplings.

Lando grinned, his aquamarine eyes sparkling with humor. He broke a piece of ondeh-ondeh in half, letting the green glutinous skin stretch slightly before offering you a bite. “Here, try this.”

You took the offered piece and bit into it, the burst of sweet palm sugar making you hum in delight. “I missed this,” you said, savoring the flavor.

He took the other half for himself, nodding as he chewed. “Not bad,” he said, swallowing. “Though I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the texture.”

“You're surviving,” you teased, reaching for a slice of steamed yam cake.

As the conversation flowed, the topic shifted naturally to your plans for 2025. “I’ll come to more races next year,” you promised, setting the plate down. “I want to be there for as many as I can, and we should also travel more too—there are so many places we need to see together.”

Lando smiled, expression softening. “I love the sound of that, and you moving to Monaco, finally. I’ve been waiting for ages.”

“Well, my apartment’s already sorted,” you reminded him with a small shrug. “But I’ll come over to yours everyday. You won’t even notice the difference.”

“Or,” he suggested, leaning in closer, “you could just move in with me.”

You laughed, lightly nudging him. “Nice try, Romeo. My parents bought the apartment already, remember? I can’t just ditch it.”

“Fine,” he said dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “But I’m holding you to that promise. I expect to you at mine every single day.”

“I promise,” you replied as you gave him a soft peck on the lips.

Then, a resonant sound of a cambodian gong echoed through the house, immediately catching your attention. Moments later, your mother’s voice, calm yet commanding, carried through the room. She stood with your Auntie Alix by her side, gracefully addressing the guests, tone filled with warmth and gratitude.

“Thank you all so much for joining us this wonderful evening,” your mother began, pausing to let her words settle. “It’s such a joy to have everyone here, especially on this special evening.”

Auntie Alix smiled, chiming in, “we’d like to invite everyone to the courtyard now, to witness the blooming of the Tan Hua. It’s a rare and special occasion, and it feels even more meaningful to share it with all of you tonight.”

There was a soft murmur of excitement as the guests began to make their way toward the courtyard. You turned to Lando, who was already grabbing your plates from the table. Wordlessly, you followed suit, stacking the dishes carefully and walking together toward the area designated for the dirty dishes. You discarded them neatly, brushing your hands off before turning back to him.

Lando reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he often did, a reassuring gesture that made your heart settle. Together, you walked through the wide open doors that led to the courtyard. The cool evening air greeted you, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass.

Ahead, the garden had transformed into an enchanting space, bathed in moonlight. The Tan Hua plant, placed on a pedestal under a canopy of soft lights, stood as the centerpiece. Its elegant, slender buds were illuminated in the gentle glow, and the pale moonlight seemed to highlight every delicate curve of the plant.

You noticed your Ah Ma nearby, two of her ladies-in-waiting carefully helped her into a chair that had been placed by the Tan Hua, with your Auntie Alix, your mother, and your Auntie Eleanor joining beside her. She moved slowly but with the dignity and grace that defined her. Faint murmurs of admiration around you quieted as everyone gathered closer.

The moment the first bloom began to open, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. The petals unfurled slowly, revealing a pristine white flower that seemed to glow against the dark backdrop of the night. One by one, the other buds followed suit, their blossoms opening in a synchronized rhythm as though they were performing just for this audience.

You glanced at Lando, who was watching with quiet amazement, his eyes reflecting the glow of the flowers. You couldn’t help but smile softly at his expression, the wonder evident on his face. Around you, people whispered in awe, voiced hushed as though afraid to disturb the magic of the moment.

“It’s beautiful,” Lando said quietly, voice barely above whisper.

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently as your eyes returned to the blooming Tan Hua. Your Ah Ma, seated serenely in her chair, looked on with a contented smile, her presence leading an even greater sense of significance to the moment. The flowers seemed almost otherworldly as they completed their bloom, each one perfect and untouched, the rarity of the event settling in for everyone present.

The party had now shifted to the expansive courtyard, with the guests scattered around tables adorned with crisp white linens and glowing centerpieces. The soft melodies of the live jazz band, now situated under a canopy of string lights that filled the evening air, lending an elegant yet relaxed atmosphere.

You and Lando made your way through the crowd, hand in hand, weaving between clusters of chatting relatives and friends, until you reached the section where your family was gathered. Your Auntie Alix was the first to notice you. Her warm smile lit up her face as she pulled you into a gentle hug.

“Dear, it’s so good to see you,” she said softly. “You look so lovely tonight, and Lando, as dashing as ever!” you thanked her with a laugh, glancing at Lando, who nodded politely in return.

Your Auntie Alix always had a way of making you feel at ease, she’s kind and a very down-to-earth woman. It always puzzled you how Eddie could have turned out so…different, given how wonderful both his parents are. You turned to your mother and gave her another hug, then lastly, your Auntie Eleanor, who stood with a poised air, gaze sharp yet affectionate. She acknowledged you and Lando with a nod.

“Good to see you,” she said briskly before allowing a small smile to break through. “Lando, congratulations on a successful season. You’ve done very well.” Lando thanked her sincerely, and you exchanged a few pleasantries before excusing yourselves to greet the woman you had been searching for all night—your Ah Ma.

She was seated regally in an ornate chair that is adorned with soft cushions, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting and closest confidantes. As you approached, you greeted her in Mandarin, your tone very respectful and warm.

“阿媽，很高興見到你,” (ah ma, it’s so good to see you) you said, dipping slightly in a gesture of reverence. Her face lit up instantly, her wrinkled hands reaching out to clasp yours.

“啊，我珍貴的孫女,” (ah, my precious granddaughter) she said, voice steady but laced with emotion. Her eyes scanned you from head to toe, and she smiled approvingly. “今晚你是如此美麗。 這件衣服，很適合你。 像蓮花一樣.” (you are so beautiful tonight. This dress suits you perfectly. Like a lotus flower)

You thanked her shyly, and her attention quickly shifted to Lando, her smile widening even more. She extended her arms toward him, and Lando, ever the gentleman, leaned down to embrace your Ah Ma warmly.

“Ah Ma, it’s so nice to see you again,” he said gently.

She chuckled, patting his arm as if Lando were a favored grandchild. “Lan Lan. You look very handsome,” she said in her Mandarin-laced English voice. “Why are you so skinny? Do you not eat? Have you eaten tonight?” her sharp eyes scanned him critically, tone carrying both affection and worry.

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, recalling your earlier conversation with Lando. He glanced at you, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile before responding, “Ah Ma, I ate earlier, and I’ve been eating tonight too. Don’t worry.”

She shook her head lightly, still unconvinced. “You need to eat more. Racing may be important, but health is more important.” her gaze softened further as she turned back to you both. “You must take care of each other,” she added firmly.

“Especially you,” she looked directly at you, her hand resting on yours, voice lowering in emphasis. “Take care of him, but also make sure you take care of yourself. Lando, make sure you also take care of her too. Always.”

Lando nodded earnestly, his voice steady. “I promise, Ah Ma. I’ll always take care of her.”

“Good,” she said simply, giving your hand one last squeeze before settling back into her chair.

Not long after, Nick and Rachel appeared, weaving their way through the guests until they reached your group. Your Ah Ma’s face lit up the moment she spotted Nick, her expression softening with a mix of happiness. She straightened in her chair, reaching out toward him as he approached.

“Nicky,” she said warmly, her voice carrying a slight tremble. “時間太長了。 太長了 你很幸運我還活着見到你,” (it has been too long. too long. you’re lucky I am still alive to see you) she added with a teasing yet heartfelt tone, eyes glistening faintly.

Nick crouches slightly to be at her eye level, taking her hands in his. “阿媽，我好想你,” (ah ma, I missed you so much) he said sincerely, his tone apologetic yet filled with affection. “對不起，我花了這麼長時間纔回來,” (i’m sorry it’s taken me this long to come back)

Your Ah Ma clicked her tongue softly, her grip firm. “重要的是你現在在這裏,” (what matters is that you are here now) she said, voice soft. “但不要讓我再等這麼久，明白嗎?” (but don’t make me wait this long again, understand?)

Nick nodded with a smile. “我不會的，阿媽，我保證.” (I won’t, Ah Ma. I promise)

Then, with a small glance over his shoulder, he gestured toward Rachel, who stood quietly beside him. “Ah Ma, I want you to meet someone very special to me.” he turned to Rachel, who stepped forward, expression poised but warm.

Rachel greeted your Ah Ma in Mandarin, her tone respectful and her words careful yet fluent. “阿媽，謝謝你邀請我去你美麗的家,” (ah ma, thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home) she said, dipping her head slightly. “尼克告訴我很多關於你的事，尤其是你的餃子。 他說你做得最好.” (nick has told me so much about you, especially about your dumplings. he says you make the best in the world)

Your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes softened at Rachel’s words, a small smile tugging at her lip. “啊，沒什麼,” (ah, it’s nothing) she replied modestly. “如果你喜歡，我可以教你如何製作它們.” (if you like, I can show you how to make them)

Rachel’s face lit up, and she responded earnestly, “我會很榮幸的。 尼克高度評價他們，還有你.” (i would be honored. nick speaks so highly of them, and of you)

“很好,” (good) she said simply. “但是你必須很快來。 不是今晚，有太多的伸長脖子，流言蜚語。 下次，當它更安靜的時候.” (but you must come back soon. not tonight, there are too many craning necks and gossiping mouths. Next time, when it’s quieter)

You watched the exchange with a faint smile, pleased to see how your Ah Ma was beginning to warm up to Rachel—she might even end up really liking Rachel. It was clear that your Ah Ma appreciated Rachel’s efforts to respect tradition and connect with her.

As Nick and Rachel excused themselves right after the conversation they had with your Ah Ma, you discreetly turned your attention to your Auntie Eleanor, who had remained silent during the interaction. She leaned towards your Auntie Jacqueline, who had joined the group just moments ago, she murmured in a low voice, her words clipped yet unmistakable.

“When children are away from home for too long, they forget who they are,” she said, gaze pointedly fixed on Nick and Rachel, who were now walking away, laughing softly and exchanging affectionate glances.

You caught the subtle disdain in her tone, her disapproving eyes lingering a second too long on the couple. They looked every but in love—completely engrossed in each other and blissfully unaware of the scrutiny that they were both under. Your Auntie Jacqueline hummed softly in response, neither agreeing or disagreeing, but her expression remained neutral as she sipped her champagne.

However, you on the other hand, felt a small flare of irritation at the remark, biting your tongue to keep from reacting, knowing it would only escalate matters. Instead, you turned your attention back to Lando, who gave your hand a gentle squeeze, as if silently reminding you to let it go.

The evening had stretched long, and though the party had been filled with laughter, music, and warmth of family, your energy was waning. As the guests began to filter out one by one, you and Lando moved through the courtyard, bidding polite goodbyes to your relative. Your Ah Ma gave you both a lingering hug, whispering for you to take care of yourself before letting you go, and by the time you reached your car, your social battery was completely drained.

The drive home was quiet, filled only with the hum of the engine and the occasional flicker of streetlights through the windows. Lando’s hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your dress, offering a wordless comfort.

When you finally arrived home, you sighed in relief, slipping off your heels the moment you crossed the threshold. The familiar sensation of the cool floor against your feet grounding you, and you wasted no time heading towards the bedroom, Lando trailing close behind.

As you entered the room, you turned to him and asked, “can you please unzip me?” your voice was soft, almost sleepy, gathering your hair and sweeping it to one side.

Lando stepped forward, his hands brushing lightly against your back as he found the zipper. But before he pulled it down, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your neck. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver up your spine, and you let out a quiet giggle as it tickled you.

“Lan, baby, stop it,” your tone was playful, though you didn’t move away.

“Just one,” Lando murmured, grinning as he finally slid the zipper down.

You slipped out of the dress carefully, draping it over the back of a chair before turning to Lando. “The wedding festivities start tomorrow,” you reminded him as you grabbed one of Lando's oversized white shirts to pull over yourself. “Colin and Araminta’s bachelor and bachelorette parties.”

Lando flopped onto the bed, watching you as you moved around the room. “I told Nick earlier that I won’t be able to make it to Colin’s party,” he said, propping his head on his hand. “I’ve got a last minute important Quadrant zoom meeting with Max tomorrow. But honestly, I don’t think Colin will even notice I’m missing. That guy will be too busy enjoying himself.”

“Well, let’s just hope that Colin and Nicky will have fun with the party that Bernard Tai had organized,” you snorted, heading to your walk-in closet to grab one of your suitcases. “But anyways, Rachel was invited to Araminta’s bachelorette party. It’s three days at Samsara Island.” you added, opening the suitcase and began to fold clothes into it.

Lando raised a brow. “Samsara Island?”

“Yeah, it’s a private island that her family owns,” you explained. “Rachel’s going, and I’m going too. She’ll need someone to look out for her.”

Lando sat up a little straighter. “Why? What’s the issue?”

You sighed. “Some of the girls Araminta invited are…well, vicious. They have a way of making anyone they see as an outsider feel unwelcome. I’m not letting Rachel deal with that alone.”

He reached out, tugging you gently towards him so you were standing between his legs. “You’re a good friend,” Lando said, hands softly settling on your waist. “But don’t let them drag you into any unnecessary drama, alright? Just keep an eye on Rachel and have some fun too.”

You smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’ll try,” you said. “But someone has to make sure Rachel’s okay.”

“I know,” Lando said, voice light but sincere. “That’s why I’m glad she has you.”

You then continued to pack, and as you folded the last set of your clothes and placed them neatly into your suitcase, the room was filled with the quiet rustle of fabric and the occasional click of your luggage zippers. Lando was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, watching you thoughtfully.

”you know,” you began, glancing at him as you folded a light blouse, “I don’t think it went well when Nicky introduced Rachel to Auntie Eleanor tonight.”

Lando’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why do you think that?” he asked, tone curious but concerned.

You sighed softly, pausing to place the blouse carefully into the suitcase. “It was shown all over his face,” you explained. “Then when Nick and Rachel left after introducing Rachel to Ah Ma, I overheard her. She made a comment to Auntie Jacqueline about how children who are away from home for too long forget who they are.”

He shook his head, confusion evident. “But why?” he asked. “Rachel’s amazing. She’s kind, sweet, and educated, I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t your Auntie Eleanor like her?”

Straightening, you turned to him, leaning against the dresser for a moment. “It’s kind of complicated,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “It’s not about Rachel as a person—yes, everyone can see how nice, educated, and well mannered she is. But it’s more of where she comes from.”

Lando frowned, still not understanding. “What do you mean? She’s Chinese, right? I mean, that’s what matters to your family, isn’t it? That she shares the same culture?”

“Yes, she’s Chinese, sure. But she’s what some people here would call ABC—American Born Chinese.” you said. “She grew up in the states, and culturally, Rachel’s not the same as us. To someone like Auntie Eleanor, that’s a big deal. She sees Rachel as…not on the same level as our family.”

His confusion shifted to disbelief. “Not on the same level?” Lando repeated. “Why? Because she wasn’t born in Singapore?”

“It’s more than that. Auntie Eleanor is a very traditional woman, just like every woman in our family. To her, someone like Rachel doesn’t understand or respect our family’s values and traditions. And,” you hesitated for a moment, “she probably thinks Rachel is only with Nick because of our family’s money.”

Lando’s jaw tightened slightly. “That’s really ridiculous,” he said firmly. “Nick and Rachel clearly love each other. Even a blind person can see that.”

“I know, I know,” you agreed, letting out a sigh. “But Nick is the only child and son, and just like Uncle Philip, his father and Ah Ma’s only son—he's the presumptive heir to the family fortune. Auntie Eleanor wants someone for Nick who comes from the same kind of background, someone who’s good enough based on her standards. Kaki lang.”

“Kaki lang?” Lando repeated, head tilting at the unfamiliar phrase that caught his attention.

“It’s a Hokkien phrase,” you said with a small smile. “It means our kind of people. Someone who’s from the same world. In this case, someone from an old money family like ours.”

“So…is that what your family thinks about us?” Lando leaned back slightly, processing everything. “Do they think I’m not kaki lang?”

You closed your suitcase with a final zip and turned to him, moving to sit beside him on the bed. “Lan, baby,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “Definitely not. No. My family loves you. Ah Ma adores you. You saw how happy she was tonight when she saw you. My parents think you’re wonderful, they’ve never said a single bad thing about you.”

Lando looked at you, his expression still a little uncertain. “But…with all these expectations about family and background, I can’t help but wonder what they really think. I mean, you come from an environment where family and tradition are everything.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, tilting his face toward you. “Listen to me, Lando Norris,” you said firmly. “You’re part of my life, and my family has welcomed you with open arms. You saw it tonight—the way my Dad was so happy for you after your win, the way Ah Ma hugged you and told you to eat more. If they didn’t approve of you, they wouldn’t treat you that way at all.”

“You’re sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze softened as he searched your eyes.

You nodded. “A hundred percent. You don’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks. You’re with me, and that’s all that matters.”

“Alright,” he murmured. “I trust you.”

You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “Good. Now, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Lando chuckled softly. “Yeah, especially for you. I’ll miss you while you’re off playing bodyguard for Rachel.”

You laughed, the sound light and warm. “I’ll miss you too.”

[icanseethefuture333]

18+ PAC: Who wants to slide down your chimney? 🎅🏼🍪🥛

A very nonsense Christmas collab with @icyg4l ❤️🎄🎁 happy holidays everyone!

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

In & Out by Red Velvet

Stay The Night by The Internet

Sex With Me by Rihanna

Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, The Empress, Sing, Drink Tea, Soulmate, & Fun Times

Howdy, pile 1 🤠! It’s giving: “I’m working late ‘cus I’m a singer~🎤” there’s something about needing to warm up your throat 👀☕️? Oh my 🤭 this person really wants to hear your voice. Maybe you and this person meet during karaoke. I’m getting that they are also very vocal in the bedroom and wants to voice their needs and wants. I’m getting a “wife pleaser” so something about being in a tank top and boxers or pajamas. This person loves seeing you dress casually or being comfortable. They also adore your bare face or admire how your face looks with no makeup. Your sp could be considered grounded and attentive, they are in tuned with their emotions. They could know how to please the opposite sex and are in touch with their feminine side (especially if it’s someone with masculine energy). I’m seeing that they want to rub you through your panties/briefs 🫠, pushing it to the side as they rub your knit🧶/play with your snowballs ☃️. If you came, they would lick and/or suck their fingers. Admiring your taste and smell. They really enjoy having fun with you, pile 1! Perhaps this is a coworker or someone you’ll meet in a bar. They are charming and have a suave way about how they carry themselves. Confident but not cocky. This person will want to buy you a drink or offer to take you out on a date. I’m even seeing you having a little too much eggnog. You guys might even have public sex or have sex in the bathroom?! 😅 yeah y’all are definitely going on Santa’s naughty list😈

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Lay You Down by Jimmy Brown

we fell in love in october by girl in red

HOT TO GO! by Chappell Roan

Knight of Wands, The Emperor, Queen of Pentacles, Burning Bowl Ritual, Massage, True Love, & Friendship

Cheers, pile 2 🥂! You may have felt drawn to pile 1 as well, I recommend that you read both! Anyways, I’m seeing romance and lust blossoming possibly between the same sex. You could be a part of the LGBTQ community or perhaps you are friends with people who are queer. You seem to be open minded and eager to try new experiences. I believe that you are someone who is level headed and capable of taking care of themselves. Responsible but also down to party. Your friends greatly appreciate you! I’m seeing you meeting this person at a club or a crowded holiday party. For some of you this will be a dinner party. This person will be eyeing you from across the room and will come over to speak you, you might feel nervous around this person because there is a mutual attraction that you don’t experience too often. You guys will spend the entire night talking and one or the other will invite them back to their place. “Chestnuts roasting by an open fire~” 🪵🔥. You and this person could have sex on the couch or by the fireplace. You will take charge of them and ride on top. The sex could be slow but get progressively harder and faster 🥵. I feel that you needed this more than this person does lol but they will love being at your mercy. Perhaps it’s been a long time since you had sex or a good orgasm, this person will provide just that. I’m seeing you roaming your hands over their body and massaging, grabbing, or groping at their flesh. This person will have a firm grip on your hips and would graze their fingers over your thighs. I believe for some of you this is a friend or an acquaintance, which could develop into something more overtime but for now will be a friends with benefits situation.

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Sin City by Chrishan

Gentleman by KISS OF LIFE

Q U E V A S H A C E R H O Y? by Omar Courtz, De La Rose

Nine of Cups, Ace of Swords, The High Priestess, Chanting, Flow Like Water, Gifts, & Union

Have a ho ho ho-lly jolly Christmas, pile 3 👠! I have a strong feeling you might hook up with a fratboy or sorority girl. If they aren’t in a frat/sorority, then something about this person just gives that vibe. They could be pretty popular and attractive, so they are used to getting what they want. You might not care about this person at all but know you could gain something from them by hanging out with them. You could also just see them as hot but maybe lack total trust in them. They might come off as a typical “fuckboy/girl” to you, so you’re not entirely giving your heart to them, just wanting to enjoy the sleigh ride 🦌🛷 . Something about food play as well? Strawberries, whip creams, or popsicles. They really like your lips so lots of passionate kissing or they want to receive head from you. They can be pretty cocky in the bedroom and once you guys start undressing your clothes, they will immediately smile once they see your body. You could be a brat and this person is a brat tamer. You will brush them off when they tease you and be like “whatever your dick isn’t even that big🙄”. You could also wear cute lingerie or your sp will want to keep it for themselves as a souvenir 😋. I feel like the sex would be raw or there won’t be any condoms (crazy work💀) or someone is on birth control at least. This person really likes your ass so I’m getting spankings and 🥛🥧. I feel like it would be so loooooud omg 😭 this person will have you chanting their name or I’m getting lots of “ooo yes!” and moaning. Some of you in this pile speak a foreign language, Spanish specifically - “si papi”. “I said the neighbors know my name they way you screamin scratchin yellin” Rip to your neighbors smh🫠

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

The Body by Wale ft. Jeremiah

A Seat by Arin Ray

2 hands by Tate McRae

Queen of Swords, Ten of Cups, Justice, Dance, Movement, Mature, & Children

Seasons greetings, pile 4 🌠! This person wants to be “Body to body, cheek to cheek🎶” they want your bodies dancing together between the sheets. Your sp appreciates closeness and wishes to be physically intimate. With this person, they are logical, decisive, and upfront. They value family and honor trust. They could be older than you or have a more traditional perspective on love. For some of you, someone has gray hairs developing (either you or them)🎅🏼. They might have children already as well. Perhaps they are divorced or have had children with former partners? It could also mean your sp is well established in their career and is wishing to settle. If you are already in a relationship with this person, then they could want to make love and have a baby over the holidays 🤰🫃. I’m seeing it would be just you guys alone for Christmas, enjoying a nice glass of wine or champagne. You and your person could be listening to music and will dance to slow jams and then it will progress into something more. Kissing and tearing each other’s clothes off as you stumble towards to the bedroom. “I saw Santa kissing mommy”!? If some of you have children and this isn’t their parent, I suggest you make sure your kids are asleep before kissing this person, they might snoop and be nosy 🤣. I’m seeing you mostly laying on your back or stomach during the act, switching positions from missionary to downward dog. This person wants to fuck with intention✨, by going deep and slow. Their goal is to make sure you climax and get to feel the pleasure you always give them. They are big on giving and receiving. I see this person even running a bath with rose petals or giving you massage afterwards, providing you with aftercare. What a heartwarming moment 💕

[forthevibe-w]

as usual with me, we have to take it slow the first time that i peg her.

despite her usual docility, she guides my strap to her hole. i'm sure she'd prefer if i did it, but i need help for the first time.

so she positions herself, then slowly lowers herself onto my strap. and she moans so loud, undoing herself before me, fucking herself on my dick. i will just watch with fascination, figuring out how to replicate what she likes. if she sounds so pretty now, i wonder what she'll sound like when i do it.

after a few moments, i will stop her. i'll grab her neck, or her hair, or even her waist, and tell her to stop. i'll remove myself from her hole, and flip us around, and pin her to the bed. i'll kiss her pretty lips and wait her her to beg for more. she's so desperate at this point, i doubt it'll take long, but i won't rush. i will touch her softly and bite her hard until i hear her ask for me to fuck her. if she rushes, i'll curl my lips into a smile, and whisper "be patient," until i'm ready.

this time, i'll fuck her myself. i will position myself over her aching hole and listen. when she begs, having tasted my strap but not truly been fucked by me, i will give her more than a taste. she said she likes it rough, so rough i will be. i'll slam into her with brute, unpracticed thrusts. i don't know how to be gentle, and would i even want to be? seeing her, i always want to take. this time, seeing her pleading beneath me, i want to fuck her at my will. i watched her do it, i know how she likes it, so this time, i'm letting her lie back and i am fucking her.

i'll watch her squirm beneath me, those huge eyes rolled back, helpless and consumed with pleasure. i'll listen to her pathetic noises moaned in sync with my rhythm, watching her hands go above her head without my action. i'll watch her become overwhelmed, crying, and incoherent. and then i'll watch her cum harder than she has in a long time.

and after she finishes, i want to hold her tight. i want to take her in my arms, and kiss her forehead, and make sure it wasn't too hard. i'll take off the strap and trace patterns into her skin while she comes down. i want to keep her there until the after tremors have faded and she's able to say more than "wow."

all this say, i want to fuck her, but we'll have to take it slow the first time. at least, slow at first. i'm sure i'll get used to it, but it'll take me a moment.

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[luveline]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬

You’re in love with Spencer from the minute he gets you in his bed. [4k]

c: fem/afab. smut mdni, p in v sex, oral, fluff, aftercare, early intense feelings, spencer in sweetheart mode, flirting.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

It’s a cold day in November when you see him across the bar. He’s sitting at a table of friends drinking from a tall glass of coke. He’s normal. Non-imposing, undeniably cute, laughing with a smile that shows his teeth. His tie is to his belt and his suit jacket’s been thrown over the back of the chair. 

He looks like he might have fun with you, if you can catch his attention. Something about him seems… eager to please. 

You watch him, and you watch his friend. He seems more your usual type, muscled, confident. He’s the key. You let your gaze linger on the curly-haired boy until the friend glances your way. You give him a look. Hey, who’s your friend?

You look away once you see an arm rise. There’s elbowing, arguing. You sit relaxed at the bar and twists your straw through cherry spritz, ice cubes tinkling. After a minute you think, Oh, come on. After two you worry you aren’t his type. 

Then comes salvation. The curly haired boy slots between your seat and the next, beckoning the bartender forward with a nearly perfect, “Excuse me?” 

“Right there with you.”

You wait. He seems cute, but you’re not trying to take him home if he doesn’t have the chops for it. And not because you see yourself as some deadly thing to be pleased, but you can’t spend another night fluffing someone else’s feathers. 

“Hey,” he says finally, surprisingly without the nerves you’d read before. He must’ve breathed through them. “How’s it going?” 

You lift your gaze from the dark purple of your spritz. The first thing you notice are the beauty marks you couldn’t see before, along his cheeks and hiding among a light shadow of stubble. “Hi, handsome,” you say softly. You can’t imagine him liking a firm touch, but that might become more apparent later on. “Nothing’s going on, I suppose I was just waiting for you.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Mm-hm.” 

He puts one arm on the bar. You let your eyes dawdle on his hand. “Are you here alone?” 

“I was with a friend,” you confess, lifting your gaze to his, making steady eye contact for as long as he’ll allow you to. His gaze flits to your mouth as you continue. “But she met somebody. I was told not to wait up.” 

“So you’re in need of company?” 

You tip your head to give him the best glance at you, all eyes and gentle smiles as you nod. “Would that be you?” 

“What are you drinking?” 

“Cherry spritzer.” 

“Can I buy you another one?” 

“Just one, please.” You believe in the overarching reach of sexuality, of being with someone, but you don’t believe in drinking and sex, nor allowing a man to pave the way. “This is my first. If I have more than that I’ll be too tipsy to do what I want tonight.” 

“What’s that?” he asks. 

You tap your nose. The boy —the man— to your delight, seems to like the gesture very much. 

The bartender approaches. Your unknown, lovely looking man asks for a coke and a cherry spritzer, extra cherries, though you didn’t tell him too. He nods to your little plate of cherry stems and asks, “Can you tie a knot?” But before you can answer, he adds, “I’m good at it.” 

Spencer proves to be good at a few things. Kissing, touching, his face in sweet places and his spit-wet thumb to a nerve. One moment you’re sitting at the bar wondering if he’ll take you home and the next you’re taking a taxi, you’re lying in his bed being stripped of your stockings, being laid on top of. You didn’t know he had it in him, this sweaty, adoring kissing in the dark; there’s a difference between kissing for hunger’s sake and kissing with love, and for some strange reason Spencer doesn’t seem to know the difference. 

“Have we met before?” you ask, the ache between your legs sharper than ever as his hand flirts with the boundary of your stomach and the apex of you, begging to go back there and prolong what he’d started. 

“No.” His lips are on your neck, kissing as he slips a finger behind your ear. “I’d remember.”

His chest pushes into yours again, triggering a breathy gasp as the button of your nipple takes the brunt of him. He turns your face, that flirting hand abandoning your wanting cunt to squeeze at your sides, your ribs, the soft hill of your breast. 

“Do you wanna cum again?” he asks softly. The best part is that he’s earnest, not a second of bravado in it as he lays his lips against your cheek. 

You could. He’d done stuff with his mouth you’ve never experienced before, fingertips teasing your wetness as he told you something about tantrics and pleasure, his hand under your knee, holding you open. You’d felt so suddenly out of control and —and honestly, you’d thought yourself half in love with him for the way he was kissing you alone. No shyness, but softness. No rushing, no annoyance when it took you time to tip into pleasure. He’d been delighted when you seized, had sat up to draw the climax out with circles, matching pace to your rising chest. 

You slip a hand into his curls and treat him with the same sweetness he’d given you, kissing him like you love him: for whatever time this is, you really do. He’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever fucked. All it took to meet was a snowstorm and a need to escape the rigid cold. 

“I think you should fuck me now,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly, not so frantic, no more pulling. “Please.”

He kisses you, kisses your jaw, and doesn’t pretend he isn’t eager as he snatches the condom from the dresser. For a while things are giggly and breathless, nervous for a pause, then achingly tight. You stay and Spencer wraps his arms behind you, kissing your neck as you let your leg fall to the side. 

“When did you tell me your name?” you ask, breathless again as his kiss matches his rhythm, slow grinds of his hips, flirting as his hand had been, just a few inches from filling you completely. 

“I don’t remember,” he says through a kiss.

“Spencer.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I just thought I’d try it,” you say, covering your eyes with your hand as his hips flex and he touches that worst part of you over, and over, and over. 

Spencer turns your face to take your hand, slowing to a crawl. He checks your gaze, and sinks into you again. Slow fucking, long kisses, his hands rubbing up the juncture of your neck and down again, then stroking your arms, comfort for a pain you don’t feel. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly. 

“Just this.” 

“No, but what do you want?” he asks, lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite make it into a laugh. “What feels best? I can get you there again.” 

So you end up more on your side than your back. He helps you lift a leg over his hip and then he’s back to kissing you senseless. You can’t think of anything but being kissed, being fucked, it doesn’t just feel like an okay pastime with a vaguely handsome guy heightened by a drink, it’s fucking with intent. He curls an arm behind your back to hold you against him and he lets you have everything. 

Something must give you away, a shaking leg, the way you breathe; he knows you’re ready before you do, kissing down your chest as his hand sinks between your hot thighs. Slick or not, he finds where he wants to touch, your eyes filling with heat as he slows. 

He draws it out. The second his lips find your chest you trip into cumming for the second time. You hadn’t realised he was close but you cum and he quickly follows, his nose at your collar. He sounds insane. Beggy, breathy moans, a shade from laughter.

“Can I keep going?” he asks just under your ear. 

You can’t say yes fast enough. He’s kind, ignoring your desperate tone. 

You don’t count the number of times you fuck that night. It’s not clear, really. They aren’t separate occasions. You come down and he’s stroking the skin of your neck as you catch your breath, drawing lines down your arm, murmuring, “You okay?” as you nod and slip a hand behind his back. 

He hugs you like he’s known you for years. When you kiss his blushing chest, kiss downward, he turns breathless. It goes on like that for a while. Afterwards, he situates himself between your legs and lets his weight force your thighs into your abdomen, just enough to feel the pressure, searching kisses pressed to your knee. 

It’s not that you fuck all night, it’s just different than before. And when he encourages you under his sheets to lay behind you, there’s a part of you that wants his hand to stray between your legs again, no matter how tired you are. 

“I’d say sorry for keeping you up, but you sounded like you liked it,” he murmurs in the dark, wrapping a solid arm around your stomach and pulling you tightly to him.

You have no regrets. For perhaps the first time ever, it feels as though all your gasps and teary sighs were adored, and not just smugly kept. “You didn’t notice me falling asleep?” 

He laughs at your teasing, his breath kissing the back of your neck. “When did that happen?” 

“…I don’t want to fall asleep, now.” 

“You don’t have to… I can make you a cup of tea, or…” He draws another line down your arm, ending in a swirl before your elbow. “You could shower.” 

Both sound nice, but no. Your legs are still weak from being held, the ache of a good fuck taking home in your stomach. Truthfully, nothing could make you wanna leave whatever it is he’s doing to you now. The shape of his lips warms your shoulder. 

“That was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he says, wrapping you up all over again. He can’t decide how to hold you. You grab his hand and keep it there under your breasts, letting your eyes flutter closed. 

How can he say that? He has this strange way of touching that’s making you feel yards prettier than you usually do, and he’d just fucked you like a dream. You couldn’t manage that sort of pleasure alone. 

“Where have you been hiding?” you whisper, toying with his fingers. Might as well do everything you can while you can. 

“Nowhere.” 

“So where have you been?” 

He takes a breath. “Turn around?”

You begin turning and he takes you like a dance, leaning in slowly to kiss you, until his smoothness gives way to a smile. He pulls back. In the barest lick of light from the window, you can see a blush spreading across his nose. 

“Sorry. I should ask, I shouldn’t just kiss you,” he says, cupping your cheek. 

How might you go about marrying this boy? You decide to play it cool, kissing him until you fall asleep in his arms, your lips still parted for another lazy press of his as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. 

—

You wake to something new. There isn’t a man against you hinting for a morning tryst, nor an empty bed, a note to let yourself out when you’re ready. There’s a real, gentle hand on your neck. It slides to your shoulder and rubs. 

“You okay?” a voice asks. 

You force your eyes open, blurry vision further occluded by a face. 

His hair is damp. Like he showered a while ago. Spencer’s hand travels to the back of your neck and touches accordingly. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but it’s almost one. I was worried you might be sick.” 

You close your eyes, smiling, better when he scratches the back of your neck with short nails. “I was up late.” 

“I know, I’m  sorry.” 

You wait for him to tell you why you have to leave, any manner of excuse, but nothing comes. 

“So are you? Okay?” he asks gently. 

“I’ll leave soon.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. If you’re not sick, you can go back to sleep.” 

“And just lay in your bed all day,” you murmur, disbelieving. 

“If you wanted to. Or… you can shower, and I can make you something to eat.” His thumb takes to your cheek. One night stand sex can’t be something he does often, or there’s a real possibility that he’s the first man to ever do it right.

His eyes are so much bigger than you realised. “Do you wear glasses?” 

He stammers, embarrassed, “How would you guess that?” 

You raise a hand to his face and draw a short line against his nose. “You have the marks here. Were you reading?” 

“Just while I was waiting for you.” 

“What do you do?” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t ask what you do, I don’t think we managed to ask each other much of anything,” you say, rewarded for your vulnerability with a chest-aching smile, his canine teeth peeking from under his lips. He still looks kissed, lips a shade of sore you’re sure you’d see on yourself in the mirror. 

“I work for the government,” he says, catching your hand to cradle your wrist, “for something called the behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Like, statistics?” 

He lets your hand fall against his chest, a thin grey t-shirt under your knuckles failing to hide the shapes of him, of which you’d explored at length last night. You kissed as much of his chest as you could and it hadn’t felt like enough, Spencer leaner than you’d realised with a stomach on the soft side, easy to kiss relentlessly. 

Your mouth is drying thinking about it. Spencer watches you wordlessly, before saying, “I guess it is like statistics, especially for me. We try to think about serial criminals in terms of their motives. It’s an attempt at math for something not usually quantitative.” 

“And you’re good at it.” 

“I’m good at math, yeah.” 

“Probability of a,” —your breath betrays you, slightly too hopeful as it catches— “morning kiss if I brush my teeth first?” 

His eyes light up. He leans down carefully, and gives you a chaste, firm kiss. 

You forget that you’re naked, not worried about being shy. The sheets fall away from you as you lift up to meet him. He holds them to your naked waist, the other hand skirting just below your breast. You wish he’d touch you like he did last night, but he isn’t so forward. His kiss is kind. You frown as he pulls away. 

“I had a really great time, last night,” he says, tip of his thumb setting your nerves aflame as it drifts over your skin. “Really great.” 

“Me too.” 

“And you’re okay?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing hurts?” he asks. 

“No, of course not.” Your confusion clears. “No, you weren’t like that. I think my legs might be aching but that’ll go away in the shower.” 

“I can run you a bath, if you want. It’s a half bath so you might not be able to stretch out, but it’ll help.” He gives you a smile. The familiarity between you doesn’t want to ebb. 

“Shouldn’t have showered without me,” you say, soft, lest playful be something he doesn’t want on a new day. 

“My hair was greasy. Someone kept touching it.” 

You sit up. Spencer’s hands fall to yours.

It’s hard not to play with someone’s hair when it’s in their face, and when they’re trailing kisses in warm places. He doesn’t blame you really, you can see it in his eyes. 

For a pause, you just sit. 

This is nice. Not being thrown out, left with that aching gap in your chest like you gave something you hadn’t intended when it started. Sex will never be easy again, you realise, not when you know it can be good. 

“You’re not working today, are you?” you ask. 

“No, why?” he asks in turn, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Maybe we…” He waits. He’s pretty enough to force your hand. “We could get to know each other,” you say, gaze taking refuge on his hands. “If you want to.” 

”Really?” 

“I’ve never had that with someone. Maybe we’re, I don’t know, compatible in more ways than one.” You remember yourself, lifting your head, startled by the sheer want in his expression as he holds your fingers. “You’re handsome, and you seem kind. We could have fun.” 

“We could have so much fun,” he says, that flushed blush already spreading across his nose again. 

You draw a line up his chest. “I might need help getting my back, in the shower. That’s not a tight squeeze, is it?” 

“We might have to stand very close.” 

You giggle wildly as he pulls you up, worse when he drapes a sheet over you worrying about the cold. It’s treatment you could grow used to. 

— 

Spencer’s trying to figure out how he got here. You, across the bar sending him looks —Derek swore you were— and the second he got to your chair he realised you were out of his league, but he had nothing to lose beside his pride. 

Then there was you, in bed, pulling on his tie murmuring sweet somethings, sweet pleadings, really, taking another kiss as he moved as you asked. 

Then you, the morning after. You’d slept for long enough to scare him, but when you woke you were exactly the girl you’d been the night before, only slower. Ever so slightly bashful. We could get to know each other. 

Spencer’s not sure how he managed it, but you don’t go home. And on Monday you go to work and come back. On Tuesday he meets you outside of your building to take you for dinner, and you come back with him again, another night up in his arms, tangling his hair with enthusiastic fingers. The sex is good, it is, not just ‘cos his past catalogue of lays were with women who wanted casual experiences solely, or those few times with Ethan where it ended too fast and left him useless. You fuck him like you love him. It’s crazy, except he’s acting the same way. 

When you’re not fucking you’re in his lap, or sitting at the coffee table with your face on his thigh driving him crazy, or you’re laying with your feet tucked under him telling him something about you. He is desperate for the details. 

Like, this is it. You’ve pulled your chair as close to his as humanly possible and thrown both legs over his, basically sharing his seat as you laugh around a messy mouthful of Thai noodles. 

“Don’t look, I’m being disgusting–”

“You’re never disgusting, let me–”

He’s heard you pee. He’s kissed you all over. The human aspects of you don’t bother him. 

“Spence, can you–”

“It’s going up your nose–”

“–stop, holy s–”

He pinches your nose clean. “Tada. Kiss now?” 

“You wanna share?” 

“Yes!” 

“No.” You press your hand to your mouth before he can lean in.

He lets you swallow your mouthful. Your ankle is cool in his hand. When people talk about love, it’s about meeting someone, the dates and the phone calls, the big questions. Spencer didn’t know you could do it like this. Every time you go home, you’re asking if you can come back or pestering him to come your way. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks imploringly. 

“No, we’re done kissing for a bit. I want another one of those massages.” 

He can’t joke about it or he’ll turn crimson. You enjoyed a polite leg massage, until he got to your thighs, and things got out of hand. 

“No massages.” He taps you under the chin, letting his hand travel wherever it wants over the side of your face. 

“Fine, no massages. Unless you want one?” 

“No, we agreed tonight we’d just– sleep. My boss is onto me.” 

You wink involuntarily as he cups your cheek, his fingers pushed lightly over your eyes.

You aren’t fiends, but finding someone who matches as you do makes it hard to abstain from the fun. Last night was tame, though; he’d made sure you were happy and fallen asleep to grateful neck kisses. Tonight, he won’t say no, but these all-hours affairs have to stop. Derek’s suspicious of him, Hotch has the situation entirely sussed, he's sure, and Spencer’s sixty percent sure Rossi saw you both outside of Quantico tonight kissing against a toll booth.  

Not that it matters. Spencer has a good feeling you’re not a fling. 

“I got you some stuff earlier,” he says. 

You pull his hand from your face and ask, “What stuff?” 

“Like, stuff you need here. I don’t know what you like, but there’s a cleansing balm– are you allergic to chamomile?” You shake your head. “Um, it might be weird, I got you underwear, just ‘cos of the situation yesterday–”

“I liked wearing boxers, they were snug in a certain region is all–”

“–and some shampoo. That sort of stuff. Just so you can stop suffering with mine.” 

“You know what shampoo I use?” 

“I deduced it.” 

“Ah, yes, mister profiler,” you mumble, bending into your knees to hold his face. “If I hadn’t looked you up online I’d think you were a stalker. How can you guess my favourite ice cream flavour when I never told you?”

He smiles shyly. “I just can.”

“Is there anything else you’ve guessed about me?” 

“Every meal with you takes a half hour. You’re easily distracted.”

He laughs as you protest, “You’re distracting! You don’t need to guess that.” 

“You distract me, too.” 

You gather yourself up and stand over him to kiss his nose. “Spencer,” you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair, “thank you. You don’t have to buy me stuff, I could’ve just gone home.”

“I don’t really want you to.” 

You raise your head to see him eye to eye. “I don't want to either. This is… I like you.” 

He hums, wrapping his arms around you. The hugs are rarer than kisses, but only because you’ve shared so many of the latter in the dark. He’s been thinking of kisses as the extension to fucking, that they’re okay as long as it’s done in bed, but the more time you stay, the more kisses you’ve shared for no reason at all. You kissed his cheek on the train earlier and he felt it like a shock, tipping his chin down to peck you on the lips, your arm curled behind his back as the traincar rattled over a bend. 

“I like you too,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, of course I do.” 

“Not just…” 

“It’s not just the sex,” he says, waving his hand behind your shoulder as you curl into him all over again. It feels amazing. 

“Should we go out, then?” 

“We do.” 

“No, should we date? We could be partners, officially.” 

Spencer can’t take it, scooping you into his lap, though you do sit obligingly on his thigh. He shifts to take the weight. 

“Please, let’s be partners,” he says softly. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t, it’s still soon.” 

“Five days and counting. That’s longer than some marriages, you know.” 

“Maybe we can be, like, tentative boyfriend and girlfriend. If you change your mind, no hard feelings.” 

“And if I don’t?” he asks. 

“Then we get married in Vegas.” 

“You could meet my mom.” 

“I’d love to meet your mom.”

“Do you really wanna be my girlfriend?” he asks. 

“I mean… there’s not such a big difference in dating and what we’re doing, right? This is relationship stuff, we just sort of skipped the awkward first dates.” 

“We did,” he says, failing to hide his grin. 

You stroke his cheek with your nose.

Your attempt at abstinence doesn’t last, but neither party is to blame. You have to celebrate somehow. So you finish your takeout dinner and wash dishes bumping hips. He locks the door for the night and you, giggling, struggle to change his A/C. When he drags you by the sleeve to the bedroom, he doesn’t intend on jumping right into it, and for a while he doesn’t. You lay on top of him between his parted legs and he spends a sluggish hour stroking your hairline, listening to you talk. But his devotion turns to your ear, and he’s kissing behind it, and you’re hitching yourself up his chest soon enough. 

“That cherry spritzer was worth it, huh?” you ask lowly, scratching his jaw as you sit over him.

You really are pretty, amplified by your syrupy smile. 

“I guess that depends what you think. Was I as good at making knots as I promised?” he asks. 

“I can’t remember.” 

“I can remind you?”

“That might be prudent, Dr. Reid.” 

“I never should’ve told you about that,” he murmurs, your lips atop his, ready to be parted. 

“I would’ve found out eventually. I’m gonna find out everything about you, honey.” 

Spencer lets his eyes shutter closed. Me first, he thinks, giving in to another endless kiss. He has the advantage, after all. 

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed please consider liking reblogging or leaving a comment/reply it makes my day and I am so grateful<3 

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

synopsis: you feel lonely and buy a new sex doll on the market, not knowing what you got yourself into.

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

word count: 10.3k

warnings: alcohol, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), squirting, creampies

a/n: spooktober continues🤭🫶🏻 if u love black mirror, these are vibes for u! also i'm sorry if the ending seems rushed but i have two more things to write for hyunjin before i continue with my spooktober🫠

!!! this fic has an ambiguous ending

~ divider by @bunnysrph

~ Masterlist

Your cursor hovers over the 'continue to payment' button.

Are you really doing this?

It's embarassing enough that you can't get a date lately, and everyone around you keeps bugging you about it, asking when you're going to find a partner already.

Like you need one. You were perfectly fine alone.

But everyone has needs, and the ad for the new sex dolls that have just come out on the market looked enticing.

Each one of the new models was a unique one, only one of them made as it was sort of a trial run for them and your attention was captured by Hyunjin, the romantic doll.

It was expensive too, but you had money saved up on the side and thought, why not get something for your pleasure and try something new as well.

'Fuck it!', you thought and clicked on the button, purchasing the doll; there was no going back now.

Eagerly, you awaited the day it would be delivered to your door and three weeks later, there was a big box in the middle of your living room.

Biting on your lip, you stare at the box as your heartbeat quickens.

In the pictures, it looked so real. Like it was a real human being and to say you were a bit disturbed was an understatement.

But as freaky as it was, you were still so curios about it so you opened up the box slowly, your eyes wide for the peculiarity of it all. There were covers neatly placed over the doll, and bubble wrap just about everywhere, but on top of it all was a letter.

You opened it up and it read;

Hello,

my name is Hyunjin and I am your romantic doll.

I love art, good food and wine, long walks on the beach and heartwarming movies.

Please, treat me with great care as I am sensitive, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with cuddles.

Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.

As you read that, you couldn't help being a little freaked out by the doll professing his love to you, but you had to remind yourself it's just the creators of it who wrote the letter, making the concept more real and human to give some kind of comfort to the buyer and personality to the doll.

Taking a deep breath, you remove all the bubble wrap and slide off the cover.

"Oh." you gasp loudly, your hand slapped on your mouth as you finally see the doll.

He looks too real to be just a doll and for a second you just stare into his eyes, unmoving but somehow warm, his facial features chiseled to perfection, his lips plump and inviting.

Your eyes travel down to see he was dressed in a nice button up, intricate flower patterns sewn into the material, coupled with nice pants and even some very expensive looking shoes.

The doll had jewelry on, his nails were painted, there was so much detail on it; he even had a mole under his eye. You marvelled at the dedication of the people who made it and obviously put a lot of though into Hyunjin.

You notice then that there is a note sticking out of the shirt's pocket and you carefully pick it up.

My love!

I got dressed for our first date!

Hopefully you like it and enjoy our first romantic night together.

"Wow, they really went all out with this." you say out loud as you look at the doll, the next question forming in your mind.

How heavy is the doll?

You spend a few more minutes just examining it with your eyes, too nervous to touch it and you can't get over the way it looks just like a real human being.

You rest your hand on the box, your fingertips gently grazing the doll's cheek.

"Oh!" you gasp, retracting your hand. It feels like real skin and with wide eyes your hand moves closer to his face again, your palm pressing slowly against his cheek.

"Are you alive?" you chuckle to yourself but the doll doesn't answer or move at all, just as you expected.

Your fingers slowly explore the doll's face, his lips are plushy and they seem actually kissable, the material they used, whatever it was, made it seem like they were real human lips.

You lean in closer to take a better look into his eyes, your hand coming up to play with locks of dark hair, which again, seems like real hair, the little curls are soft to the touch and bounce back as you pull on them gently.

Now you're leaning so close to him, and you can smell the nice, comforting scent radiating off of the doll. You've no idea what they used, but he smells fresh and flowery.

"Okay, let's get you out of the box." you lean back and hook your hands under the doll's arms before making it sit up.

His head falls to the side a little, making you feel a bit creeped out because it really seemed like you were handling a dead person instead of an actual doll, but the only indication that it wasn't a dead human is the lightness of it.

He wasn't as light as a feather but he wasn't as heavy as dead weight either.

"Maybe the couch?" you talk to yourself as you look over to your comfy couch, the pillows fluffed up already and a soft blanket thrown over it.

Somehow, thankfully to your regular exercise, you manage to lift the doll into your arms and carry him to the couch.

The way he slumps when you put him down, again freaks you out a little, but for some weird reason you're even more interested in how you can actually use the doll.

You prop him to sit nicely and turn on the tv to some art channel, remembering how the doll 'said' that he likes art.

"I hope that's what you enjoy." you shrug and throw the fluffy blanket over the doll's legs, folding his soft hands into his lap, before you go back to the box to find the manual.

"Here it is." you dig out the booklet and start reading.

They listed the materials but you still had no idea what they were so it flew over your head. There was also a page with pictures of the other dolls and the makers' letter to the customers, thanking them for purchasing the doll.

Flipping the pages, you find what you were looking for.

Your face becomes red as you read the doll's 'abilites', including that his thing can vibrate and cum, he reacts to your touch and that he has a usb charger that gets plugged into the back of his neck.

"W-wow." you nod to yourself as you keep reading until you flip to the last page.

WARNING!

If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.

The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening so be aware of that.

Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.

Do not throw the doll into the trash.

Do not break, bruise or cut the doll.

If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.

If you've purchased our Hyunjin doll, do not be too harsh on him considering he's sensitive.

Hope you enjoy the romantic soul you chose!

Bruise? The doll can bruise?

Why are they talking about it like it's alive?

You gulp and turn to look at the couch but the doll is unmoving, turned towards the tv, same position as before.

You peek back into the big box to find another, smaller box inside it, that was beneath the doll's feet earlier.

You carefully take it out, putting it on the floor and opening it curiously.

Inside, you found a change of clothes, more casual looking ones and something to be used as sleep wear. It was like getting a Barbie doll with all her outfits when you were a kid.

So bizzare, yet it made you feel excited in a way.

After getting up, you decide to clean up the mess you made with the bubble wrap and put the box away in your closet, just in case, if you ever wanted to return him.

"Okay." you nod and come back to peek at the doll.

The television screen reflects in his eyes, his hands crossed in his lap, just how you left him and relief washes over you.

Why are you even scared?

You shake your head and decide to prepare lunch.

You're in your kitchen, listening to some slow music as you cook, completely forgetting about the doll sitting in your living room.

That is, until the volume of the tv suddenly increases making you jolt and gasp.

Your back straightens as you turn off the stove.

Slowly turning around, you stare at the direction the sound is coming from.

You swallow and make your way to your couch, you don't know what to expect but the doll is still in the same position you left it, the tv remote is out of his reach, down on the coffee table.

You grab it and decrease the volume before looking back at the doll.

"If that wasn't you, we have ghosts in this apartment. But if it was you, you're obviously wanting my attention." you cross your arms as you stare at him.

Nothing.

"Fine, I will eat lunch with you." you declare before going back to the kitchen to get yourself food.

You mostly eat in front of your tv anyways, not caring about any rules since you live alone, enjoying the freedom it brings you.

Settling down next to Hyunjin, you pull the blanket over your legs too and start eating.

You chuckle to yourself, if someone saw you right now, they'd think you're absolutely insane, sitting down next to an inanimate doll that looks eerily human.

You take a peek at Hyunjin, sighing as he sits still.

"You do look alive. But I'm literally talking to myself." you say and of course get no answer.

Shrugging, you continue about your day, washing dishes and doing laundry, enjoying your selfcare routine after getting your apartment in order, your Hyunjin doll observing your movements from the couch.

In the evening hours, you finally come back to him.

"Are you tired of being in the same position?" you ask, knowing there will be no answer.

"We can have dinner now." you add and leave to the kitchen to bring out some food and a bottle of wine.

"This is insane. Top 5 weirdest things I've done." you talk to yourself as you look down at your black satin nightgown, with lace details on the top, perfectly resting on your chest. "Maybe it even takes up the first place."

You settle next to Hyunjin once again, changing his position a little as you fill up two glasses of wine.

"Our first date, I guess?" you sigh with a chuckle before drinking the wine.

His glass stands full on the coffee table, untouched as you start eating next to him once again.

"I guess I should tell you a bit about myself. I work in an office. I hate my job but it pays the bills." you say, "I always wanted to be in a band though. Played guitar in high school. Never got too far with that. I love art too, you know, any shape or form of it. Maybe that's why I chose you. You seem like an artist. Or you would be if you were real, ha." you chuckle, yapping away as you keep drinking the wine, the doll listening to you without moving.

You keep pouring the wine into both his and your glass but it's only you drinking from both glasses.

It gives you a nice buzz, warmness that spreads through your body and manifests itself between your legs.

Usually, you'd play with your vibrator or dildo but seeing as you got a literal sex doll, you thought you should use him for the purpose he's made for.

"Now, what do I do with you?" you smirk, your hand coming up to play with the doll's hair, twirling the lock in your fingers.

"I mean, I can do anything I want." you nod, scooting closer to the doll.

"I feel fucking crazy." you laugh, pulling the covers off of Hyunjin.

Your hand is pressed on his thigh as you touch him gently through his clothes, your mind still marvelling at the fact that he feels like a real human being.

"I'm curious." you whisper, your fingertip playing with the button of his shirt, wanting to see what he looks like underneath the nice clothes they made him wear.

Slowly, you start unbuttoning the doll, taking your time with it, as anticipation builds up, creating a swirl of excitement inside you.

When you pop open the last button, you open up the shirt and gasp.

"Wow." you lick your lips at the sight, the doll's nipples look aroused, his stomach is toned, it looks like there's a vein leading down into his pants making your eyes fall down at his crotch.

You still have no idea how they made him look so real but you're eager to explore, planting your hands on his chest, running them up and down to his stomach, tracing the vein with your fingertips.

You run your hands back up to his nipples and flick them gently with your thumb before pinching them experimentally.

Gasping, you notice a growing bulge in the doll's pants.

"Am I pushing the right buttons?" you chuckle at your own joke as you continue playing with his nipples.

Your impatience however doesn't let you stall for too long, so your hands make their way down to the hem of his pants.

"Let's see." with a smirk you unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them down with a little struggle as you have to lift him up a little.

You place your hands on his thighs, squeezing the flesh a little, watching as his cock twitches like he was really alive.

"You really do react to touch." you gasp in wonder, what kind of technology was this?

They even put underwear on him which you think is a nice touch but at this point, you were too curious not to slide them off immediately.

"Woah!" you gasp as his cock springs free of its confines.

You think it's the biggest and most beautiful cock you've ever seen, framed by a neatly cut bush, a visible vein running up the whole length.

You stare at it for a little while before you wrap your hand around it, your other hand fondling his balls.

It feels real once again, like he's throbbing and twitching, hot and heavy on your palm, a bead of precum at the tip.

"What in the hell?" you mumble, your finger swiping at the tip as you gather the liquid and bring it to your lips.

You suck your finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and tasting the sweetness of the doll.

How he tasted so sweet was beyond you.

"Fuck it." you chuckle, pulling off your nightgown and tossing it aside, which leaves you completely naked like the doll is.

"I didn't even kiss you. Not very romantic of me." you smirk as you throw your leg over Hyunjin, sitting in his lap, your wet folds pressed against his cock.

You lean in and press a kiss to his lips, and of course the doll doesn't kiss back but his lips move with your movement and it feels good as you grind on his hard length.

"Look at you. Letting me do all the work like all the rest of them." you scoff with a smirk and at that, the doll's cock twitches a little too hard against you, almost pushing inside you.

"Wow. Someone's excited." you stare at the doll's eyes but there is nothing in there to indicate that he was in fact listening to you.

"For how much you cost, I hope this is worth it." you shrug and grip the base of his cock, guiding it inside you.

Sitting down on his length has you gasping as he fills you up perfectly, like his cock was made exactly for your pussy to take.

Your grip the doll's shoulders and use it for what you intended to when you clicked on that purchase button.

No matter how turned on you are though, staring at Hyunjin's almost expressionless face proves to be a turn off so you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you press your chest to his and continue bouncing on him.

Save for the fact that his hands lay limp on the side, his skin feels human and he feels kind of warm, like there was something inside the doll, warming it up.

"F-fuck." you whimper as the head of his cock brushes against the spongy spot inside you, it's like the more wet you get and the harder you fuck on him, his cock responds to you.

"R-right hand for activation." you repeat the instruction from the manual, as you blindly search for his right hand, sliding your fingertips on his wrist to his palm, your head leaned on his shoulder as you slowly gyrate your hips.

Your fingers interlace with his and it feels almost like Hyunjin grips your hand back, making you jump a little but before you can move away, his cock starts vibrating inside you.

"A-ah!" you moan loudly as your other arm curls around him, holding onto him while you fiddle with his fingers, your legs clamping around him as you start falling apart.

"G-gonna cum!" you whimper, burying your face in Hyunjin's neck and he smells so nice, feels so good as his cock keeps vibrating against your spot, bringing you to your high quickly.

The ecstasy you feel as the vibrations persist, prolonging your orgasm, overstimulating you while you ride the feeling makes you miss the single blink that Hyunjin's eyes make before returning to their original glassy and unmoving state.

"Too much." you whimper, squeezing his thumb and the vibrations stop.

You know that the left hand brings a happy end to the doll but you're not sure if you're done with it yet.

Leaning back to finally look at his face has you a little disappointed as you don't notice any kind of change on his face.

"Kinda wish you were real." you whisper, hugging the doll as you start bouncing on his hard cock again, bringing yourself easily to another orgasm.

You squeeze the doll's left hand after that, and feel spurts of warm cum shooting inside you as his cock twitches, the head bruising against your spot violently as he fills you up with copious amounts of the sticky substance.

You're pretty sure the neighbors can hear you moan as you cum again, the feeling of being filled up to the brim satisfies you and has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Wow." you breathe hard, your cheek leaned on Hyunjin's shoulder as you grip his wrists while you come down.

You lean back to look at the doll again.

Were his lips slightly upturned before?

In the fogginess of your orgasms, you couldn't tell or think straight.

"Be right back." you slide off of him and make your way to the bathroom, taking a quick five minute shower before you grab a wet cloth to clean the doll up.

He sits how you left him, and you kneel between his legs to clean him up carefully.

His cock is not completely soft nor hard anymore, it's somewhere in the middle, but as you touch it gently, it seems to react and twitch again.

"You came already." you smirk and experimentally pinch the tip of Hyunjin's cock, but nothing happens except the member twitching again.

You stand up with a sigh, covering him with the blanket again before you leave for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Just as you turn on the water to wash your mouth out, you hear something akin to a sigh coming from your living room.

You freeze, turning off the water and listening closely but you only hear the quiet buzz of the lamp above your mirror.

Maybe you were just imagining things.

You shake your head and finish your business before going back to Hyunjin.

"I'm too tired to dress you now, but boxers should be enough." you say and struggle to get him dressed, almost giving up during the process.

"I should just keep you naked in my bed to avoid the hassle." you say, lifting him up and carrying him to your bed.

"Cuddles, right? I do love me some cuddles too." you say with a tired smile as you adjust Hyunjin in your bed.

You join him under the covers and lean on your elbow as you lay sideways, staring down at him.

"How'd they make you look and feel so real?" your hand is on his cheek, and you trace his eyebrows, his nose and lips.

Fingertips travel to his ears, down to his neck and his chest.

"Don't come alive and scare me while I'm sleeping, Hyunjin." a shadow passes in his eyes as you say his name but you're too busy caressing his toned stomach to notice.

"Night." you kiss his lips before turning off the lamp and laying your head on his shoulder.

Somehow, you adjust his arms so that it seems like he's holding you and you throw your leg over his, your hand tracing patterns on his chest and side.

It was like hugging and kissing your pillow in high school, except this one took the shape of a human being.

With thoughts and questions about Hyunjin swimming in your head, you fall asleep quickly, not noticing how the doll's arms tighten around you ever so slightly.

Early in the morning as your alarm starts blaring loudly and annoyingly, you groan and stir, almost forgetting about Hyunjin being next to you.

"Oh!" you gasp. "Good morning, dolly." you say after turning the alarm off, as he stares at the ceiling.

"Sadly, I gotta go to work and leave you here alone. You better behave while I'm out." you lift a finger up menacingly, but there's a playful smile on your face.

"Man, I'm crazy." you shake your head before leaning in to leave a nice, wet smooch on Hyunjin's cheek.

"I'll come say bye before I leave."

And you do so, after eating breakfast and getting ready, you're back in your room.

"Should I put you in the living room so you can watch tv?"

The doll never answers.

"Maybe, yeah. You'll be bored lying in bed all day." you nod and carry Hyunjin to your couch.

You make him comfy, cover him with the blanket, card your fingers through his messy hair and then turn on the tv, leaving the remote in his lap.

"Gonna be late because of you." you sigh and lean down to place a kiss on the doll's lips.

"Be a good doll."

And with that you finally leave your apartment.

All day at work, you can't help but wonder if your Hyunjin doll somehow came alive, and for some reason you were looking forward to seeing him even if he didn't.

"What's got you so happy? Finally got laid?" your coworker chuckles as you stand in the office kitchen making yourself some coffee, you know she always gossips about you behind your back so you don't wanna give her the time of the day.

"Mind your business, Amanda." you answer quickly, turning to leave back to your office.

"Okay, you didn't then." she calls behind you with a giggle but you decide to ignore her.

"Fucking bitch." you mutter to yourself as you close the door.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully and you can't wait to drive back home to Hyunjin.

"I'm home!" you yell out as soon as you step inside, hearing that the tv is still on, nothing out of the ordinary.

You make your way to your living room to find Hyunjin in the exact same position as you left him almost 9 hours ago, the remote still next to his right hand, the same channel you turned on this morning on the tv.

For some reason, your shoulders slump.

"Well, I guess you've been a good doll and took my warning literally." you shrug a little.

"Still, I want to reward you. As soon as I eat and take a nap that is." you add and go about your routine, eating lunch, taking a shower and of course changing into your comfy clothes, which at this time of the year consisted of an oversized t-shirt and panties.

"Let's take a nap together, dolly." you say to Hyunjin as you lift him up and move him to your bed again.

You lay him on his side, then mirror his position, taking his arm and wrapping it around your waist, the other comfortably under your neck.

Tracing patterns on his stomach and chest again, you start talking.

"Your life is so easy. From the couch to the bed, you don't even have to work or go anywhere. Meanwhile, I have to endure fucking Amanda every day at work. Do you have any idea how bitchy that woman is?", you talk as you cuddle your doll. "She has to know eeeeverything about eeeeeveryone. Soon, she'll crawl up my ass just to look at my insides."

You look at Hyunjin's face and for a moment it seems as if his eyes moved.

"Are you listening to me, perhaps?" you whisper, your hand on his cheek. "I know I'm probably crazy. But I'm glad I got you. Even though you're a bit creepy, you bring me comfort." you add, tucking your head into his neck.

"I'm gonna sleep now."

Slowly blinking your eyes awake, you feel warmness enveloping you that's not coming just from your blanket but from Hyunjin.

Quickly, you realize that somehow his thigh ended up pressed against your core, your leg thrown over him as you scooted closer to him in sleep.

"Oh." a little sound escapes your lips as you grind against his warm thigh, feeling wetness on your panties.

Before looking up at him, you press a kiss to his collarbone and it seems like his thigh moves against you once, making you jolt.

"Hey." you look up at him, but his eyes are unmoving as always.

You observe his face but the throbbing between your legs makes you grind against him again.

"F-feels good." you whimper, leaning in and kissing him, letting your tongue dart out and lick at the plump lips.

You feel his erection press against your other thigh, the one flush against him and you chuckle a little.

"Someone likes me a lot." you say, leaning back to look at him.

It looks like there's a small smile on his face that you swear wasn't there before.

"Hm." you squint your eyes as you stop your movements.

"Gotta try something." you declare after a moment of silence, lifting up and removing the blanket.

You push Hyunjin on his back, hooking your fingers in his boxers and pulling them off of him.

"Aw, you really do like me a lot." you smirk at the sight of the doll's cock, twitching and leaking again like it did yesterday.

"I'll give you some attention, you deserved it."

You spread his legs, adjusting them so you can kneel between his thighs and you lean down.

"I haven't done this in a while. You can't complain though." you chuckle a little as you grip his cock and let your tongue dart out, catching the sweet tasting precum with it.

You don't understand how he tastes so sweet, it's hard to put your finger on what exactly the taste is but it makes you want more so you swirl your tongue around his head, your moans muffled as you swallow the sweet liquid.

"Mm. Fuck you taste good." you whine and put your lips around him again, slowly taking more of him in as you bob your head up and down.

Sucking cock like that is not your favorite thing to do, sometimes it makes you feel uncomfortable but having Hyunjin be so still and so tasty has your arousal pooling on your panties and you keep wanting more.

You take as much as you can, coating his cock in your saliva, your tongue pressing along his vein as you fondle his balls has him twitching inside you.

You smirk and grip his left hand, spurts of hot cum hitting your throat and it tastes even sweeter than before as you whimper and swallow everything.

"Damn hot." you whine, quickly getting rid of your shirt and panties, before you take his now completely wet cock in your hand and start jerking him off to make him hard for you again.

It doesn't take long to excite the doll and you decide to turn your back to him and fuck on his cock like that so that you don't have to look into his lifeless eyes while pleasing yourself.

You sit on him and push his cock inside yourself, your warm cunt engulfing his entire length easily.

"Mm." you gyrate your hips as you close your eyes and enjoy teasing yourself, your wet pussy coating his navel and balls.

"God, you're perfect Hyunjin." you whine and start fucking on him.

In the deep throes of passion as you bounce on him, your nails digging into his thighs for support, your eyes closed in pure bliss, you don't notice anything.

You don't notice Hyunjin blinking, his lips opening to speak but nothing comes out.

He can't move no matter how hard he tries and once again his eyes go back to the glassy state they're always in.

"Gonna cum." you whine loudly, gripping his right hand and he starts vibrating inside you, pushing you over the edge and making you scream as you squirt all over him.

"Fuck." you whine as your eyes focus, noticing you have left red marks in his thighs.

"Oh. Did I hurt you?" you gasp, your fingertips gently running over the marks.

"Didn't mean to." you look back at him but he lays still.

His cock twitches inside you and you grip his left hand, making the doll fill you up as you slowly ride him.

You lift up slowly, his cum sliding down your inner thigh together with your release.

"Made a mess of you, dolly." you look at the state of him.

"Maybe a bath?" he doesn't answer but still you prepare a bath and place him in it, careful of the usb opening on his neck.

You get inside after him, settling between his legs and leaning your back on his chest.

"Why are you so warm, Hyunjin?" you caress his arm as you hold it, his other one thrown over your stomach.

Sighing, you lean on his shoulder and close your eyes, trying to relax in the warm water, as Hyunjin 'held' you.

You still couldn't understand how they made him, but you were willing not to think about that, as he brought you a kind of comfort you didn't expect, making you wanna indulge in that feeling for as long as you could.

It's been exactly two months since you've gotten your Hyunjin doll, and ever since then you've loved spending every day with him.

You talked to him like he was alive, you watched movies with him, you read him books, you slept next to him every single night, you brought him to the kitchen so he can watch you cook, you even took him on late night drives sometimes, feeling bad that he was locked up in the apartment all day.

Sometimes, you thought you saw a flicker in his eyes, a slight smile on his face, or his fingers twitching against his thighs.

Some nights, while you're half asleep, you could swear that he tightened his hold on you or his chest lifted up and down like he was breathing.

Some days, as you'd come home from work you found him in a slightly different position than you left him.

One time, you sat him next to the window so you could watch rain together, and when you came back from making some tea, there was a heart shape in the fog on the glass.

"Did you do this dolly?" you caress his hair and look at him closely but he doesn't react.

You sigh, tracing another heart next to the first one before you sit in his lap, bringing the warm cup to your lips and observing him.

You thought you were going crazy in the beginning but as time passed by, you were becoming sure that there was more to Hyunjin than you initially knew.

"Just say something if you can hear me. Or squeeze my hand." you try for the nth time as you sit on your couch with Hyunjin but nothing happens.

"Fine." you huff. "Maybe you want something first. What would you like? I bought you new clothes. Maybe you want something else like... like something to do with art? We can paint together, if you'd like."

Hyunjin doesn't answer.

Nevertheless, you bring your art supplies and a bottle of wine.

You make yourself comfortable on the floor, next to Hyunjin's legs as he sits on the couch.

You end up being the one painting and drinking, Hyunjin's eyes move to look down at you, the look in his eyes softens, unlike the glassy one he always has.

He wants to talk, he wants to lean over and caress your hair, he wants to taste the wine off of your lips and feel the paintbrush between his fingertips.

But he can't. His eyes become glassy again as your phone rings, jolting you out of your peaceful activity.

It's your mother.

The conversation starts as always and it escalates into a fight of when are you settling down, why aren't you married, why are you closing yourself off, why are you such a failure?

As soon as you hang up a sob escapes your lips and you fall into Hyunjin, seeking comfort as you wrap your limbs around him, your face buried in his neck and your hot tears sliding down from your cheeks to his shirt, soaking it up.

"No one would understand." you cry. "They'd say I'm crazy and maybe I am. But I don't give a fuck."

Your body trembles against Hyunjin as you hiccup and sniffle, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your leg thrown over his thighs.

His body seems warmer than before and you squeeze him a little.

"Maybe I'm fucking crazy for loving a doll. But I love you Hyunjin." you sigh, closing your eyes as you lean against him.

His eyelids flutter a few times. He blinks.

A deep breath through his nose and you almost miss the way his chest moves up.

You place your hand on his chest, and feel it.

A heart beat slowly forming, at first almost too slow to be normal until it becomes steady and then speeds up.

He's breathing, his lips are dry as he licks at them, his hands clutch onto you and you scream.

You jump up quickly, your eyes wide as you look at him.

Hyunjin looks back up at you, his eyes wide and filled with fear and shock, mirroring yours.

He opens his mouth and a series of coughs escape his lips.

"Wh- How? Am I hallucinating?"

"Y- y/n." is the first thing he says, weakly and quietly as he reaches out for you.

You stay still as a statue, not sure what the hell is happening before your eyes.

"P-please, don't be scared." he begs as he tries to get up but his legs give out and he falls to the floor with a thud.

"Ugh." he whimpers, his hands grabbing at the coffee table.

You're slow to react to him falling from the shock of it all, making your way back to him cautiously.

"Did you hurt yourself?" you ask quietly.

"N-no, I don't think so." he says as he looks up at you.

"Who- who are you?" you don't know what else to ask, because the doll you used and played with was now a human with a heartbeat and he was looking at you, even knew your name.

"What do you mean? I'm- I'm Hyunjin, your romantic doll." he answers like it's the most normal thing ever.

"How are you alive? Why now all of a sudden? I don't get it." you say as he sits back on his legs.

"You... You love me. Your love brought me to life." he swallows, his cheeks rosy.

"Oh... There was nothing about this in the manual." The fucking manual. The doll's actual purpose. Everything you ever did to him. Embarassment washes over you and you feel absolutely mortified.

"Do you... did you hear me all this time? And um, see and feel what I was doing?"

"Y-yeah." he nods, his cheeks becoming even more red.

"Fucking hell." you whine, covering your face with your hands as you sit on the couch.

"Hey, it's okay. I- I was made for that." he says, his hand on your knee in an attempt to comfort you.

You peek at him through your fingers.

"And you were so nice to me. So... warm and loving. You made me feel so good. You never mistreated me even when you knew very well you could do whatever you want with me. I'm thankful for that. And I- I love you too, y/n." Hyunjin talks, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

"Are you programmed to say stuff like that? Are you a robot?"

He chuckles.

"I'm not programmed and I'm not a robot. Didn't you feel my heart beating?"

"I did but... I don't understand. How were you made?" you finally remove your hands from your face.

"I don't know. I wish I could answer your questions but I'm as clueless as you are. I just know I was conscious the whole time while I was with you but I couldn't speak or move. Like I was paralyzed. It was horrible. I tried giving you signs, I tried to talk multiple times but it's like something would hold me back, like there was a wall and I couldn't break through."

"That does sound horrible. I'm sorry if I ever did something you wouldn't agree to." you say quietly, your face burning in embarassment.

"No, no, I liked everything you did." he says with a sheepish smile, averting his eyes. "Wish I could reciprocate." he looks up at you through his lashes.

You're biting on your lip nervously, his hand reaches for you and you accidentally snatch yours away, not used to your doll talking to you and trying to touch you.

"A-are you gonna abandon me now?" he asks quietly as he eyes your hand.

"What?" you look back at him to see that his eyes are watery and you gasp. "No, of course not! I always wished you'd come to life. Didn't think it would actually happen so I'm still processing and hoping that I'm not dreaming."

"Oh, thank god." he exhales and you let him grab your hand. "I- uhm... I'm very hungry and thirsty. Could you help me with that?"

"Oh! Of course! I will make some dinner for us." you say and help him sit up on the couch, noticing that now he's heavier than he used to be.

"I guess I still need to get feeling in my legs and arms." he says as you bring him a glass of water.

"Mhm, probably you need to have blood pumping properly through your body. Don't worry." you pet his hair as he drinks and he looks at you.

"Here, you'll be warm like this." you wrap him up in your fluffy blanket and notice a change on the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you exclaim, your fingertips touching the skin there, making Hyunjin shiver a little.

"The usb opening is gone." you declare and he brings his hand to touch it, your fingertips grazing against each other.

"That's weird." he says absentmindedly.

"All of this is weird." you chuckle and he chuckles with you, making you look at him.

God, he's even more beautiful with a smile gracing his face, you think to yourself.

Without thinking your hands gently cup his cheeks.

"You're really alive." you whisper, your thumbs gently stroking his face, his eyes flutter as he pushes into your hands.

"I am. Does that make you happy?" he asks with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Very happy." you nod with a smile, leaning closer to him.

"Good. I want to make you happy. When you're happy, I'm happy too."

"Hyunjinnie." you whine against his lips and kiss him gently.

Having him kiss back as he clutches at your shirt is the sweetest thing ever, you think as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"Okay, I don't want you to starve now that you came to life." you lean back with a chuckle as he chases your lips.

"Yeah, please, I need food." he nods and you make your way to the kitchen, whipping up a quick dinner, checking constantly if he's okay.

You bring two plates as soon as you're done and Hyunjin's eyes seem to get bigger as soon as they land on the food.

"Be careful, it's still hot." you warn him.

"Okay." Hyunjin nods.

He eats happily, asking for more which you of course bring to him.

"Are you feeling better?" you ask when the two of you finish eating.

"Yes, much better. But I feel very tired now."

"You need sleep. Let's go to bed. Do you think you can walk now?"

"I think so." you grab his arm and help him become steady on his feet.

You lead him to the bathroom and he looks at you.

"Now that you're alive, you need to brush your teeth and wash up before bed."

"Right." he nods.

After a whole ordeal of getting ready, you finally plop down under the covers.

"Can I- Can I hold you?" Hyunjin asks sweetly and you chuckle, rolling your body into his.

"Of course."

"Always wanted to do that." his limbs wrap around you as he holds you tightly, your face buried in his chest.

"Good night, Hyunjin. Please be there when I wake up." you nuzzle into him, inhaling the familiar fresh and flowery scent of him.

"I promise I will. Good night, y/n."

It wasn't a dream.

Your eyes flutter open and Hyunjin smiles at you fondly, his hand gently caressing your cheek.

"Morning, dol- Hyunjin."

"You can call me dolly if that's what you like." he smirks and you chuckle.

"Eh, well you're human now. It feels like I'm degrading you." you gently touch his chest.

"I don't mind." he shifts and you feel his erection press against your thigh.

You gasp a little, your core throbbing with want.

"I'm sorry." his face is red instantly. "It's just- when you touch me... I can't help it."

"It's okay, Hyunjinnie." you slide your hand down to cup him through his boxers.

He whimpers, leaning into you, his eyes fluttering shut and you press your lips on his in a heated kiss.

His tongue licks at your lower lip and you let him in, eager to finally feel his kisses how you craved to.

Hyunjin kisses you messily and hungrily, grinding into your hand, grunting against your lips.

As soon as you slide off his boxers, automatically your hands lift up to push him on his back but he grabs your wrists gently to stop you.

"My sweet girl, let me take care of you how you deserve now that I'm able to." he rasps, his eyes hooded as he looks at you with lust.

"O-okay." you whisper and lay down on your back, letting Hyunjin slide your panties off as you pull off your shirt and toss it somewhere aside.

"I've spent so much time receiving. I want to give, my angel. My hands hurt when I couldn't touch you and make you feel good. That's all I want to do." he sounds desperate as his lips attach to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, his hands roaming on your body and settling on your breasts.

"Mm, make me feel good, Jinnie." you whimper as he squeezes your breasts, massaging them and moaning against your skin like it was more pleasurable to him than to you.

He mumbles sweet praises as he leaves more kisses that lead to your nipple, his tongue darting out to swirl around it, making you arch into him.

His eyes are dark as he wraps his lips around it and starts sucking, his other hand sliding down to grip your inner thigh.

Fingertips ghost on your skin, both his hands now spreading your legs apart.

"Do you know how much I longed to taste your sweet nectar? Will you let me drink from you, my angel?" Hyunjin asks, his finger gently pressing into your clit, circling it.

"Yes, please, oh my god." you whimper, your hips lifting up into his touch.

He smirks, trailing kisses down to your core.

He stops for a moment to admire you and you don't even have time to feel self-conscious as he spreads your pussy lips apart and leans in to stick his tongue inside you.

"F-fuck!" you jolt as he starts moving it before he leans back a little and licks at your sensitive clit.

"Taste even sweeter than I imagined." he moans, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks on it, his thumbs gently caressing your pussy lips.

"H-H-Hyunjin!" you whimper as he sucks harder, your hips lifting up in pleasure.

"Could be here for hours. Eating this sweet pussy out." he moans, pushing his tongue inside you again, this time fucking you faster, his nose giving the perfect pressure on your sensitive nub and driving you crazy.

Your hand grips his hair, pushing him more into you as he skilfully moves his tongue, his lips pressing into your lower ones as he makes out with you.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly, coating Hyunjin's face and he laps it all up greedily, his eyes shut as he whimpers into you, sending vibrations right into your core.

You feel crazy with desire the more he continues eating you out like a man starved and you have to grip his hair and pull him away after he gives you two more orgasms.

"H-Hyune, please, I need your cock." you whimper, feeling like you're falling apart.

He licks at his red lips, his eyes crazed with lust he feels for you.

"Anything my angel needs." his voice is husky as he leans over you, the tip of his cock pressed against your wet, messy cunt.

He pushes in with ease, after all, you've been fucking on him for the last two months, your pussy was used to the stretch.

"Mm, Hyunjin!" that doesn't make it feel less pleasurable when he fills you up, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

"Move, please." you whimper, already feeling out of it.

Hyunjin grips your thighs and starts fucking you at a steady pace, his cock dragging against your walls deliciously, sliding easily through your wetness.

"Feel so good. So warm. Just for me." he whimpers, his eyes fluttering shut before they open again and look down where his cock disappears inside you.

"Just for you, Jinnie." you moan and he looks up at you, a smile on his face.

He leans closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and in turn you wrap yours around his shoulders, bringing your bodies flush together as he buries himself deep inside your heat.

He ruts into you desperately, your lips meeting in messy kisses, spit dribbles down your chin and he licks at it, kissing your jaw and your neck wetly.

"P-please tell me you love me." he whimpers in your ear, holding you tightly as he fucks you harder, only taking a little bit of his length out and shoving it back in with force that has your mind spinning.

"I love you, Hyunjin. I love you. So much." you cry happy tears, making him cry too as you clutch onto each other.

"My angel, I love you more than anything." he says as he kisses you, his tongue playing with yours.

He brings you to another orgasm, his fingers on your nipples, pinching and pulling as he keeps rutting into you desperately.

"C-can I cum?" he whimpers, his hands gripping desperately at your waist.

"Yeah." you nod quickly and he gives you his left hand to squeeze and as your fingers entwine, he cums, filling you up endlessly, more than when he was just doll and you whimper as your legs clamp around him, lifting your middle into him and cumming with him again.

Both of you breathe hard as he stays inside you for a moment, before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of you.

"D-do I still have to squeeze your left hand for you to cum?" you chuckle a little.

"No, just... force of habit, I guess." he says sheepishly like he didn't just fuck your brains out.

"What about the vibrations?"

"You really liked that, didn't you?" he smirks, his hand sliding up your thigh tentatively, before his fingers slide between your folds, playing with the wetness.

"Shut up." you say embarassingly, swatting his hand away.

"Don't worry, I can vibrate if you want." he bites on his lip as he looks at you.

"I'm too sensitive now." you whisper and he chuckles.

"I know. Usually you don't go above four, five orgasms in one sitting. Maybe six if you're extra horny."

"It's embarassing to me that you know this in such detail." your face becomes red as Hyunjin chuckles, shaking his head.

"Nothing you should be embarassed about. I'm happy to please you." he says and leans down to kiss you gently.

You pull him into your embrace, hoping that from now on, he stays human, and keeps loving you because in this moment you can't imagine your life without Hyunjin in it.

"Thank you for letting me use your painting supplies." Hyunjin smiles up at you as he sits on the floor of your living room, like you always did when you painted.

"Don't thank me, Jinnie. What's mine is yours." you smile as you sit next to him and lean in closer.

"Let me see." you say as he looks down sheepishly.

He pushes the sketchbook towards you and you gasp.

"Hyunjin, this is amazing! How did you manage to paint so well?! And you painted me! That's so sweet."

"I- I don't know. As I started, it's like I got déjà vu, like I already did this before and many times so."

"Really? That's peculiar." you say.

"Maybe we should call the company I got you from." you add, tapping your chin.

"P-please don't!" Hyunjin panics, gripping at your thigh. "I'm scared. I don't know why but when I try to think of that place, it feels bad. Please don't call them. I don't want them to take me away from you."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. No one will take you away from me. I won't call them." you quickly grab his face to calm him down.

"You promise?" his pupils shake as he looks at you.

"I promise." you nod and kiss him sweetly to let him know he can trust you.

Hyunjin visibly relaxes with your touch, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his face in your neck.

"Um... could we go outside? We only ever went on night drives which is understandable but now that I can walk and stuff, we could go out on real dates and maybe visit museums?" he looks up at you with a smile.

"Of course! Anywhere you want to go." you smile back at him, and he leans up to kiss you.

For the next several weeks, you take Hyunjin everywhere.

To the park, the movies, museums, to a club, to different restaurants, to a mall, anything that comes to your mind, the two of you decide to visit, even going to a little town nearby for a day trip.

You don't remember the last time you were this happy and had someone next to you who made everything look so easy and sweet.

Hyunjin had taken an interest in capturing all the pretty moments so you got him a camera, deciding to surprise him for your 6 month anniversary.

As you came home from work, you called out to him but there was no answer.

"Jinnie? Are you sleeping?" you pushed the bedroom door open but the bed was vacant.

A heavy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as you searched your entire apartment and couldn't find him.

Frantically, you looked for him again, knowing that he didn't suddenly become Barbie sized and hid somewhere.

He was gone.

You ran out of your apartment to knock on your neighbor's door.

"Tony! Did you see Hyunjin today maybe?" you asked him as soon as he opened the door.

"No, I didn't, sorry." he shook his head.

You didn't know what to do so you went back to your apartment and burst into tears.

Hyunjin didn't have a phone you could contact him with as he never had the need to use one so you had no way of reaching him.

All you could do was sit and wait, biting your nails as every single scenario runs through your mind.

He will come back, you reassure yourself as you fall asleep from exhaustion.

And he does, around 10pm the door clicks open and you jolt up from your nap on the couch.

"Hyunjin?" you say into the dark space and he turns on the light, standing in the middle of your living room with two gift bags in his hand and an apologetic look on his face.

"Oh my god, Hyunjin!" you jump to your feet, running to him and throwing your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and almost knocking him down as the bags fall out of his hands and he wraps his arms around your waist.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I should've left you a note. I-I went out to get a gift for our anniversary tommorow."

"Please, don't ever disappear like that again. Do you have any idea how scared I was?" you cry and Hyunjin gasps, his hands on your face as he wipes away your tears.

"I'm really sorry. I will never ever do something like this again." his eyes water too.

"I should get you a phone." you shake your head. "Hey, how did you even manage to buy a gift? You don't have any money." you chuckle, wiping at your cheeks.

"I went to the park and painted portraits of people for money, then got the gift."

"Oh, Jinnie, you sweet fool. Just don't give me any more scares."

"I promise I won't." he nods and your lips seal in a kiss.

Despite having so many options to choose from now, Hyunjin and you decide to have a nice dinner at home for your anniversary, where it all started.

You even took out the most expensive plates and silverware you owned, adding some candles to create a more intimate atmosphere, some light romantic music playing in the background.

"Y/n, I um- got you something I'd like to see you wear tonight for me."

"Oh, you did?" you smirk. "Show it to me."

Hyunjin grabs one of the gift bags and reaches it to you with an excited smile.

You chuckle and peek inside, seeing that he got you black and red lacy lingerie as well as a dress.

"Do you like it?" he asks.

"Very much so." you take out the dress and touch the silky material. "This dress is very revealing." you notice the opened back and the deep neck line that would definitely almost make your breasts fall out.

"I was counting on the fact that we celebrate here because you in that dress is for my eyes only." his eyes darken suddenly.

"Oh yeah? Let me get ready for our dinner then." you chuckle and make your way to the bathroom.

Hyunjin decides to wear the clothes he arrived in, since those were the only fancy clothing items he owned, and he thought it was kind of symbolic to put them on tonight.

You walk into your bedroom to find Hyunjin dressed and staring at the big box he was packed in, one you still didn't get rid of.

"Jinnie?" you call out as he seems to be deep in thought.

"You kept the box." he says, still looking at it.

"I did. I had no idea what I was getting into so I left it just in case. I was gonna throw it out, it's just really heavy." you explain, making your way to him.

"When you arrived, two men had to carry the box in, and somehow the box seemed heavier than you. I barely managed to get it into the closet. Had to push it and stuff. Sorry I didn't have the chance to get rid of it."

"It's okay, y/n. You don't have to apologize." he smiles as he turns towards you.

"Oh." a gasp leaves his lips as he sees you all dressed up for him.

"You like?" you smirk, winking at him.

"Mhm." he nods quickly. "You look stunning, my angel."

"Thank you, Jinnie. You look handsome."

His cheeks seem to become more red with the praise as he mutters, his eyes darting left and right.

You enjoy your dinner together, romantic music playing in the background, the tv mute, left on just from the habit of it.

After you finish eating, you migrate to the couch to cuddle and drink wine, some stupid show playing on the screen and the two of you jokingly read from the character's lips, making up nonsensical conversations and laughing.

After some time and some more wine, Hyunjin becomes even more handsy than usual, grabbing at your thighs, sliding his hands on the silky material of the dress.

You melt into him, kissing him as your arms wrap around his shoulders, your tongues languidly massaging each other as your core throbs with need.

Hyunjin caresses you gently, his hands worshipping you, sliding down your throat, to your collarbone, to the swell of your breasts, down to your stomach and waist, landing on your hips.

His lips attach to your neck as he leaves wet kisses on your skin, licking at it and sinking his teeth in.

"Mm." you moan, playing with his hair as he kisses your collarbone and the flesh of your breast, leaving another love bite on the soft skin.

His hands travel under your dress, roaming around on your legs and your eyes open, landing on the tv, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin, that's you!" you jolt, pointing at the screen.

"Huh?" he mumbles, already drunk on you.

You quickly grab the remote and turn on the sound.

"...seemingly the dolls have some kind of malfunction that the company does not wish to reveal to the public. All eight of the purchased dolls are required to be returned and the buyers will get their money back, guaranteed. The customers will be contacted accordingly..."

"M-my friends. I vaguely remember them." Hyunjin breathes quickly, you can see that he's getting upset quickly. "They wanna take me away from you."

"I won't let them." you quickly shake your head.

"What are we gonna do?" he asks, clenching his fists and you gently grab his hands, trying to soothe him.

"We're gonna... leave."

"Leave?"

"Yeah, I have a house my aunt left me up in the mountains. I don't think they can find us there. For now, until we think of where to go next." you start planning immediately.

There was no way you would let anyone take Hyunjin away from you.

"But, what about your job? And your things?" Hyunjin bites on his lip.

"I don't care. All I care about right now is making sure you're safe." you smile at him, your hand coming up to caress his cheek.

Hyunjin smiles, leaning into your touch and wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you." he whispers into your hair.

You get a call from an unknown number the next day, but one quick google search tells you it's the company Hyunjin came from.

You packed one bag of a few essential things you'd need, leaving most of your belongings behind.

"Y/n! There's a black van posted outside. It's been there for hours. They're looking at the building right now." Hyunjin announces and you make your way to the window, half hiding behind him.

"We need to use the fire exit." you declare and Hyunjin nods as he turns to you.

"I won't let them take you. I promise." you hold his hands.

"I trust you, my angel." he smiles and you kiss him gently before the two of you exit the building, quickly entering your car.

You step on the gas, and reach out to hold Hyunjin's hand in yours.

As you speed off into the sunset, hoping for a better tomorrow, a black van rounds the corner, following you from afar...

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @lixies-favorite-cookie

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Miss ma’am, hi hello how are you?

I am presenting myself here, very very humbly to ask if we could please get another part of your Nerd Nanami fic?🥹🥹 please please puhleaseeeeeeeee

That was an actual masterpiece, I had to read it very slowly and savour it, making sure to process every single sentence of that fic. You’re so talented it makes me cry

Please offer us more Nanami, pleaseeeeeee

Giving the nerd a chance… part two

Tags: nerd!Nanami x fem!Reader, college au, smut with plot, nsfw, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, dom!nanami, sub!reader, marathon sex, exhibitionism if you squint real hard, mdni

Synopsis: Your nerdy boyfriend is so prim and proper in real life, but he has big dick energy over text.

An: 4K Follower Special! I got over 20 requests for a part two of this fic. At this time, it is my best performing fic on tumblr, and I fear… I may have peaked with it. I never EVER intended on writing a second part because I was sure that I couldn’t ever follow that fic up with something as good, but this sweet anon request warmed my heart so much that I decided to give the people what they’re asking for. This one’s going to be a long one… pace yourself because there will NOT be a third part… right?

Nanami’s a stoic lover. He doesn’t keep you hidden, but he doesn’t outwardly drag attention towards your relationship. Too much attention meant drama, and Nanami hates drama.

Nanami asked you to be his girlfriend a few weeks after the first time you two slept together. Of course, everyone in his friend group saw it coming long before you two had even hooked up.

They saw the longing gazes between you two when you pined for each other. They saw the cheeky glances once you two finally started texting. They noticed how their dear friend smiled more — was more laid back and relaxed.

Everyone welcomed you into their small found family with open arms. They simply couldn’t have picked anyone better to balance out Nanami’s far too strict nature.

Things with Nanami were absolutely a dream. You two had great chemistry emotionally and physically. Of course, he just made things so easy for you.

While he is a stoic lover, you never ever feel unloved by him. He’s always there to reassure you with words of affirmation or small touches that just remind you that he’s there.

Like when you two are at one of Satoru’s “exclusive” gatherings, if you’re not in Nanami’s lap, then he’s got his hand on you somewhere. Sometimes he gets so bored during those little get togethers that he spends his time leisurely pressing kisses into your cheek and neck. He never quite understood Satoru’s and Suguru’s affinity with public displays of affection until he met you.

Or there's those times when you need a little extra help with your studies. Kento is right behind you, with you on his lap, his cock is snuggly being squeezed by your warm leaking cunt. He presses small chaste kisses against your temple and ear while you try your hardest to focus on the homework.

"Do you remember this one, sweetheart? We went over it in class yesterday... Aw, don't go all stupid on me now."

When you get an answer right, he'll reward you with small, shallow thrusts, but you have to finish the whole assignment to get him to really fuck you.

Or if you two are walking together in the halls, Nanami holds his arm out for you, letting you latch onto him so he can guide you two through the crowd of people. He knows how you are in crowded areas, so he's keen on not letting anyone get too close to you.

Nanami’s a true gentleman too. His parents made sure they raised nothing less than a perfect man. You’ve never had to touch a door handle, any of your own money, or bags when you two go shopping. Nanami handles all of that for you. He doesn’t let you walk on the outside when you two are on the sidewalk. He’s respectful of you and your time, and he always listens to everything you have to say with his full attention because you deserve nothing less.

Nanami’s parents truly did their best work with him, and speaking of his parents, Nanami’s the type that wants to take you back home to meet them.

It was nearly fall break as you were sitting in your experimental research class — your final class before you’re free from the hell hole of academics for a full week.

You glance down at your phone as it buzzes in your lap. You and Nanami had been planning a trip out to his family’s home in Hakone for a little bit now, and the closer that time gets to you two leaving, the more stressed out Nanami feels.

Nanami: We’ll probably leave out early tomorrow morning and catch the first train. Will you be okay with that?

Yn: Mhm. That sounds fine, Ken.

Nanami: After class, I need to inform you a little bit more about my parents… I just don’t want you to feel shocked or surprised when you meet them.

Yn: I’m not sure why I’d be shocked or surprised, but I’m excited to hear more.

Nanami: Don’t get too excited.

You stare at his message for a bit, pondering what he could’ve meant by that. He hadn’t ever spoke poorly of his parents, but he didn’t necessarily praise them either. Actually… he never spoke of them.

*** *** ***

For the rest of the class, you wondered just what you were getting yourself into by going and meeting them. Maybe you two were moving too fast or..

“Sweetheart.” His steady voice broke your trance. He’s crouched down next to your desk to be eye-level with you, and the palms of his hand is gently caressing your cheek. “There you are. Spaced out on me.”

The entire classroom is empty. Class must’ve ended a minute ago because not even the professor is in the room now. You must’ve been deep in your own head.

You let force out an awkward laugh before nuzzling your cheek further into his palm, seeking out his affections as comfort from the insecure thoughts that somehow always manage to find a way in.

“I was just.. thinkin’ about your parents is all..” You finally give him some sort of explanation, and Nanami softens a bit.

“It’s just a weekend, my love. Then, I’ll make it up to you.” His words are a promise. You know for a fact Nanami doesn’t say things that he doesn’t mean.

“I think that was the part where you were supposed to reassure me that they’ll like me-“

Nanami pulls you forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll still love you regardless.”

Gods, his words are so sweet, but they cut deep like daggers.

“They’re… not going to like me..?” You mumble in a tone that makes Nanami’s heart sink. He takes your hands into his as he gets on his knee to better talk to you while you’re seated.

“My parents are… very traditional.” He carefully explains, and his hazel eyes search yours for a reaction before he reluctantly continues. “They want me to marry a girl from a specific family-“

“An arranged marriage!?” You blurt out — unable to control your emotions as it feels like your heart is trying to force its way up your throat.

“Something like that - but not exactly. It’s not arranged, but it’s definitely heavily pushed.” He tries to keep his tone steady, but seeing you so upset like this has him feeling raw with emotion as well.

“So, no, they will not be happy to know that I’m going against their wishes, but they’ll come around eventually.” His eyes focus on yours, and he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“… and if they don’t?” A small sniffle escapes you before you can stop it. The thought of Nanami being with anyone else has your head spinning. There’s another girl out there who might be expecting for him to take her hand in marriage.

“Hey... look at me.” He coaxes softly as his hand guides your face to look him in the eyes. “I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I’m doing this as a courtesy for them — not because I need their approval.”

Chills shoot up your spine from his words. Nanami rarely cusses, but when he does, it’s enough to even make Satoru blush when he hears it.

Your worry instantly flees your body when Nanami’s lips press against yours to seal the deal. This was just a visit to his parents. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“I’m still gonna love you…” He mumbles his words against your lips before seeking out more of your honeyed kisses. “…still gonna marry you one day…” His deep voice groans a little as he gently suckles on your bottom lip. “…still gonna fuck you senseless every night.”

“Ken..” A breathy whine; a whimper; a plea.

“Because you need it every night, don’t you?” His lips are still chasing yours with an insatiable hunger. It just wasn’t enough. If the next class wasn’t coming in the next 10 minutes, he’d take you right here on your desk, but he doesn’t fancy the idea of anyone else’s eyes accidentally falling upon your ethereal body.

“Mhm… need it.” You murmur against his lips quietly in agreement.

Nanami suddenly pulls away, and he reaches out, wrapping his hand around your wrist. “Come on before I fuck you right here.” He threatens and picks your bag up off the floor for you.

*** *** ***

A gasp flees you as Nanami pushes your back against his bed. His lips are immediately assaulting your neck: suckling soft red marks into your skin and nipping at you gently.

He loves to see the aftermath of his love on you, but he has to be careful this time. Can’t have you going to meet his parents with hickeys all over your neck, can you?

“Mmm~ What about Haibara?” You ask now before you find yourself too hypnotized by his affections.

“He has a class right now.” Nanami answers before his hand trails up your thighs towards your already damp panties. He has had this on his mind all day since he saw you in that cute little skirt you’re wearing.

“Already so wet.” He groans into your neck before biting at your shoulder. The pads of his fingers tease your sensitive clit through the cloth of your cotton panties. “Fuck. You’re so good to me.”

Nanami drops to his knees on the edge of the bed, and his strong arms pull you by your legs to where you’re situated at the edge for him to eat you out to his heart’s desire.

He doesn’t even remove your panties before he leans in and presses a sloppy kiss to your cunt. He can already taste you through the fabric, and he needs more.

His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, carefully placing them on his bedside table. If he can swing it, he’ll definitely hide them from you and claim that you lose them — just so he can keep them for when you’re not around.

He’s not a pervert!! Well… he loves jerking off into his girlfriend’s panties when he’s too needy at night… Feeling the wet fabric that was pressed so unceremoniously against your heavenly cunt is more than enough to get him off quickly. It would be ungentlemanly to wake you up at your dorm for such a scandalous adventure. At least he washes and returns them to you promptly after using them a couple of times.

As soon as your panties are safely discarded, Nanami has his face right back between your legs. He uses his hands to prop your legs up on his shoulder, and he just.. absolutely begins to devour you.

“Ngh.. oh fuck— wait Ken.. I wan..” You can barely get your words out right while his tongue is lapping at your slippery folds.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to interrupt someone during a meal?” His hazel eyes look up at you with such a serious look — you feel like you’re being scolded.

Your face flushes a bright red before you relax back into his bed — accepting your fate. Kento smiles to himself, knowing that it doesn’t take much to pacify you. You’re too much of a good girl for him.

“Mmm~ that’s right. Just lay back and take what I give you, pretty girl.” He hums in satisfaction as his tongue connects with your cunt once more.

He licks up all the sticky wetness that you so graciously leak for him. He’s so messy with it, practically french kissing with your cunt. Your juices are smeared across his chin from him hopelessly lapping at you. His tongue writes love letters to you against your clit, making your body shiver with pleasure and excitement.

One of your hands is clasping at the sheets, and the other hand is entangled in Kento’s blonde hair, giving him small tugs as he gives you the best head of your life.

Your thighs unconsciously press together, trying to run from the weird sensations that his mouth gives to you. Your boyfriend grunts in dissatisfaction — not enjoying the sudden disobedience from you.

His hand press against each of your knees, and he forces your legs back open — spreading you wiiiide open for him.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He asks while looking up at you through his lashes.

“Please — please~” You whine. Your hips involuntarily buck up, trying to get any sort of friction.

“Then be good, and sit still.” Nanami orders, and his hand ever so carefully swats at your sensitive cunt — sending shockwaves of electrifying pleasure through your nerve endings.

“‘m sorry.. ‘m sorry.. please.” You’re so whiny and desperate to be stretching by him. It’s honestly so pathetic that he pities you.

“My poor sweet girl.” He chuckles lowly before pressing a more gentle kiss against your clit. His tongue carefully dips into your wet heat. “Tastes too sweet for your own good. How am I supposed to stop enjoying you, huh?”

A glob of spit rolls down your cunt from Nanami’s mouth, and he uses his own two fingers to spread it around, softly toying with your glistening pussy. A smirk curls on his lips as he watches the way your entrance flutters — so enticed by the potential of being filled by him.

You quietly stifle a squeal as he stuffs you with two of his thick fingers. “So reactive, baby.” He murmurs as his tongue darts back out to gently lap and flick at your clit.

“Ken.. fuck, fuck-! Mmmph..” Your hips start to roll against his fingers, trying to force them inside you. Your boyfriend obliges your silent request, and he pushes his fingers in deeper, curling upwards to that spot he knows will make you cry out his name…

“Nanami-!” There it is. His fingers begin to roughly pump in and out, abusing your sensitive g-spot over and over again.

“Better be a good girl and tell me you love me.” He mutters lowly into your cunt. He knows he doesn’t have to tell you anymore — you’re already conditioned to tell him you love him when you cum. Even if he’s not the one making you finish, you’ll text him a quick “I love you” as you clench around your own fingers to the thought of him.

Your hips roll harder, and your moans are way more throaty — interrupted by small gasps for air. He can tell that you’re getting close. His mouth gently begins to suckle on the small bundle of nerves, and he focuses his tongue on swirling circles around your clit.

It’s all so much. It feels like Nanami is literally playing you like an instrument. He knows exactly what to do to make you a whiny trembling mess.

His fat fingers are pummeling into you, slamming into your sweet spot — making overstimulated tears well up in your eyes. “Sh-shit.. gonna cum.. Nanami… ah~ more..” You’re babbling utter nonsense while trying to find your orgasm.

Your stomach starts to clench, and it almost feels uncomfortable. Your breath stutters as Nanami murmurs into your pussy. “Let go for me, darling. Let it alllll out.” He encourages you as if his fingers and tongue aren’t absolutely tag teaming you.

“Ah~ Mmph… I.. fuck- I love you-!” You moan as you finally feel your orgasm suddenly break. Your tight walls clench around Nanami’s fingers, and fluids from your arousal gush out, making a big mess on his face and clothes.

Nanami quietly chuckles as he comes to realization that you just squirted on him. “Oh? That’s how you feel, huh?” He mocks playfully before pressing one last french kiss against your cunt. “I love you more darling.”

For a moment, you don’t know if it’s more directed towards you or your pussy.

*** *** ***

The early morning train ride was spent with your head cozied into Nanami’s shoulder as he had a protective arm around you. The scenery outside was beautiful. Hakone is known for their breathtaking sights of Mount Fiji. Too bad your eyelids were so heavy from getting up so early.

Nanami takes the silence as a time to reflect. He truly can’t remember a time when he was nervous like this. It was as if that emotion left him when he was a teenage boy. His family’s harsh regime for raising him left no room for shy or nervous behavior. Men were strong, confident, sophisticated. They exuded chivalry in everything they do.

Honestly, he’s glad that he was raised the way he was. Every time he bears witness to Gojo’s crude behavior, he can only think of how happy he is to have had a strict childhood.

But right now, he wishes he wasn’t so nervous. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he’s silently praying that you can’t hear it. Even though he didn’t care what his parents thought of you, he didn’t fancy the idea of seeing you torn down by his parents. Hopefully, they’ll have enough class to take up the issues with him — not you.

*** *** ***

Nanami’s parent’s house had a very traditional vibe to it, and it was easily twice as big as the house you grew up in. It was beautifully decorated, and the lawn was obviously meticulously cared for. It makes sense that Nanami grew up here.

“Just one weekend. Then, we’ll be back to normal.” Nanami murmurs softly into your ear. Though, he doesn’t know if he’s reassuring you or himself at this point. He takes a deep breath before knocking on the door with a heavy fist.

“Oh, Kennn.” His mother immediately ran up to Nanami and gave him a big hug after answering the door, which he returned back to her.

“It’s good to see you, mom.” He responds heartily before he holds out his hand to his dad.

“Look at you. Our son has grown up on us.” His dad gives a sweet smile while gently nudging his mom with his elbow.

“Don’t remind me!” His mom practically wails with her arms still wrapped around Nanami, and you’re awkwardly on standby.

Nanami finally puts his hands on his mom’s shoulders, and he forces her to take a step back. “It hasn’t even been that long since you two saw me, and besides, I brought someone for you two to meet.”

His arm carefully wraps back around your waist, and he looks at his parents before collecting himself briefly. “This is my girlfriend, Yn. Yn, these are my parents.”

His mom’s smile falters almost unnoticeably, but you immediately pick up on her dissatisfaction. His dad seems to just he surprised.

“Ah, yes, welcome to our home, yn.” His dad finally says with an earnest smile, and he subtly nudges his wife. It’s definitely a silent reminder for her to stop looking at you like you’re an intruder.

“Your home is lovely, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami. It’s nice to meet you two.” You try your best to not sound nervous at all, but his mom’s face just makes your stomach turn.

His parents guide you through their home, but they mostly focus their attention on Nanami: asking him about his studies, asking how Gojo’s doing, and asking if he’s contacted some girl named… Allegra. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was the girl who they wanted him to marry instead.

They didn’t ask you very many questions. His dad was friendly, but it seemed like he was tip toeing around all the awkward tension. His mom was just flat out ignoring your presence — clearly in denial about her son having a girlfriend who wasn’t this mysterious Allegra girl.

When it came time for dinner, his dad finally broke the awkward tension and asked about you.

“So yn, you go to the same college as Kento?” His dad seems to be genuinely sweet — just more on the passive shy side.

“Yeah, Ken and I actually share quite a few classes together.” You smile as your utensil grazes along the food they prepared. It smells delicious, but your nerves will barely allow you to nibble on it.

“What are you studying?”

“Oh, I’m in general studies for now. I’m still deciding on what to major in.” You reply as you finally feel yourself beginning to relax in your chair.

“Did you tell your friend that Allegra is studying to become a doctor? Wouldn’t that be nice to have in the family?” His mom finally speaks up, only addressing Nanami and not you.

Your stomach sinks as you realize why Nanami was so apologetic and reassuring this entire time. He knew his mom was just going to take subtle digs at you the entire time.

“One, she’s my girlfriend — not friend. Two, no, I have no reason to speak about Allegra with my girlfriend.” Nanami responds, and he gives his mom a subtle look. It appears they have a brief challenging moment before his mom looks away and relents.

Nanami’s foot gently nudges yours underneath the table, and you try to give him a small smile in response. It’s just hard when clearly you’re not wanted in this household.

The dinner goes silent for a moment, and the dining area fills with the sounds of chopsticks gently touching against plates. You subtly check your phone for an escape.

Nanami: Don’t pay her any mind, okay?

Nanami: I promise I’ll make up for this tonight. I’ll kiss you for every rude thing she says.

Yn: and for every time she says Allegra?

Nanami: I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember her name… make you so dumb until you can only remember my name. That’s all you need to know anyways.

Yeah, that’ll do it. The negative emotions are gone — replaced by a feral need for his cock. You take a subtle breath before putting your phone away, not wanting anyone to accidentally see him dirty talking you right in front of his parents.

“Ah, do you think you can help me out with the car tomorrow, Kento? Your old man is getting too old and worn out to crawl underneath there.” His dad finally breaks the silence once more.

“Of course, dad. What are you needing done on it? I’ll probably wake up early and get it done before day breaks.” Your boyfriend is such a good son. It’s no wonder that his mom is stupid protective over him.

“I just need to breaks changed on it. It’s probably due for an oil change too.” His dad explains, and Nanami assures him that he’ll get it done.

“I didn’t know you knew much about cars.” You take the chance of speaking up, and Nanami’s hazel eyes meet yours. His face instantly softens, and his mouth opens to speak. Too bad his mom beats him too it.

“Of course, he does. He needs to know all sorts of things like that in case his future wife needs her car repaired.” His mom says with a hint of hostility in her tone. “Speaking of which, Allegra just bought a new car a few months ago.”

You sit in silence for a moment, and you feel your stomach twisting in discomfort. You don’t know why you care so much for this woman’s opinion of you. Nanami already warned you that they likely wouldn’t approve of you, but you didn’t know you signed up to practically be bullied all weekend.

“I know a few basic things about cars. Nothing major.” Nanami responds to you — ignoring his mother’s comments. “I can show you too if you’re interested.”

A small smile curls on your lips, and you swallow back your emotions— trying to stay strong for him. “That’d be nice.”

“You definitely have a….”

“Mom.” Nanami immediately warns, staring down his mother before she can even finish her sentence.

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything mean.” She’s immediately on the defensive, casually laughing as if she’s been nothing but friendly this entire time. “I was just going to say that your friend certainly has a bold personality… wearing red to meet someone’s parents is definitely… a choice.”

Your eyes look down at the nice blouse you’re wearing, and you swallow harshly. Nanami was actually the one to pick it out for you. He reassured you this morning that you looked gorgeous — unknowingly signing you up to be bullied.

Your face is burning hot with embarrassment, and you wish you could just fold in on yourself and die right on the spot.

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” Nanami frowns, and he puts his chopsticks down on his plate. “I’m serious. Being a bully at your age is unbecoming to you as a mother.”

“Kento.” His dad warns, but Nanami doesn’t relent for a second.

“No. I’m not going to sit here and allow her to continue disrespecting my girlfriend like that.” Your boyfriend retorts, and he switches back to glaring at his mother. “I’m not dating Allegra — nor do I want to. I’m doing you a favor by introducing you to yn. I figured you’d like to know your future daughter in law.” He gestures to you,

The color leaves his mom’s face as she stares back at her son — as if him implying that he is going to marry you is the worst news she’s ever heard. Her eyes cut over towards you in a vicious glare. “How long have you even known my son?”

Your heart is beating straight through your chest. Confrontation isn’t your strong suit, and to be honest, his mother was terrifying even though she’s literally shorter than you are.

“W-well, we met in college so…” You inwardly curse for stumbling over your words, and Nanami frowns as he looks at you. He hates that his parents are making you so unsure of yourself and your role in his life. He wants to take all your insecurities away and make you forget this ever even happened.

“It’s not even been that long! You don’t even have history with this girl. Allegra was your first kiss.. your first everything!” His mother raises her voice at Nanami, making exasperating hand motions.

His first everything? He told you that you were his first.

Tears prick into your eyes before you can even think to stop him. Overwhelmed by shame and just utter defeat, you don’t even know what to do other than to hide and cry.

Nanami’s eyes widen as he sees you clearly trying to cover up the tears streaming down your cheeks. His jaw tightens as he returns his gaze to his mother.

“That’s funny. I don’t recall you ever being present for any of those things.” His mom starts to speak up, but he is quick to shut her back down. “I kissed Allegra because you were breathing down my neck to. I was barely 15 at that time, and it happened once. That was the first and only time I ever even touched her.”

His mom starts to try to speak up again to probably bring up some other point about why he should be with Allegra. Nanami interrupts her again.

“Allegra and I do not like each other. We hardly tolerated each other for yours and her parents’ sake. You have to get over it. I’m with yn, and I’m happy — happier than I’ve ever been. She was my first everything. My first real kiss, my first girlfriend, and since you seem to want to stick your nose so far in my business, she was my first in bed too.”

“Kento, you’re being incredibly disrespectful.” Her voice is much more strict now as she scolds her grown son.

“I wonder where I get it from. It seems as though we both have a propensity for being rude.” He retorts, and while he’s arguing, his hand slides over to your inner thigh under the table, and he gropes it harshly.

He’s so pissed. He doesn’t even know how to get rid of this anger. His hand squeezes your thigh tightly, making your face go bright red as you look away from everyone.

“I’m not accepting her into this family. You can forget that. She’s changed you.” His mother’s words are growing harsher, and his dad is trying to quietly calm her. She doesn’t pay him any mind though.

“Fine. We’ll just go make our own family.” Nanami scoots his chair back, and he stands up. His hand roughly pulls you up as well — not giving you a chance to even think about what he just said. He bends down and effortlessly throw you over his shoulder, making you gape in surprise. His arm securing you by wrapping around the back of your thighs. “And by the way, I chose the red blouse. It matches the cute bra she’s wearing that I also chose for her.”

His parents stare at him — both completely dumbfounded by what just happened. They didn’t raise him to be like that, but what were they going to do?? Stop him? That’s a laughable thought. You’re not even sure God himself could pull Ken off of you when he’s feral like this.

His footsteps are heavy as he stomps up the stairs towards his teenage bedroom. Nothing has changed since he was last in here. It’s still completely sterile from how he was made to clean it each day. The walls are littered with posters of various science related things, and he has some posters of older video games he use to enjoy.

Your body is practically flung onto the bed, and Nanami doesn’t waste a single second. His heart is pounding in his chest. His mind is fogged with pure anger. He hasn’t felt like this in so long. It reminds him of why he took up going to the gym.

With no punching bag in sight, you’re his only outlet.

His body is unwavering on top of yours — a force to be reckoned with, and his mouth immediately connects with yours in a suffocating kiss. Quiet hums and moans fill the air between you two, and he quite literally steals the breath from your lungs. His fingers wrap around your wrists easily, pinning them above your head on the bed.

No longer satiated from robbing you of your breath, Nanami trails his kisses down to your neck. To hell with not marking you — he needs to see his brand on your neck. You’re his, aren’t you? Who cares if his parents see?

“Ah~” You let out a breathy whimper as he angrily sucks and bites on your neck. Your skin is sensitive - already turning bright shades of blue and purple from his mouth. His dental imprint litters your neck and shoulders.

“K-Ken.. what about..?” You start to ask about his parents. They’re going to hear you two. Wouldn’t that just make things worse?

“Don’t care.” He responds so brashly. If he thinks about his parent’s behavior any longer, he’s going to need to fuck you into next week to get all his anger out.

Riiiip!

Your eyes widen as you look up at your boyfriend’s hulking figure. The blouse that you were just criticized for was now more like a coat, split down the middle, revealing your perfect breasts, so prettily on display in your red lacy bra.

His mouth waters as he looks you up and down. You have almost this panicked look in your eye, provoked by his unpredictability, and for whatever reason, it’s driving him insane.

His mouth is back on you like it never left: kissing and biting on your mounds, painting them so beautifully with his mark. “You’re mine.” He grunts lowly. His jealousy almost makes it sound like his parents were insinuating that you should marry someone else.

“Say it.” He demands before his teeth graze over your collarbone. His warm breath fans over your skin, making you shiver.

“Yours.” You comply with such a small whimper, and your body jolts when you feel his raging bulge rub against you.

“See what you do to me?” He rumbles lowly as he looks down to where he’s now shamelessly dry humping you through clothes like he’s a horny teenager.

“Fuck… Ken..” You whisper as you’re also mesmerized by the sight. His slacks are completely taught, outlining the shape of his cock so well. You can almost see the veins that protrude on him.

His hips rolls slowly against yours, savoring the way the fabric rubs against him and you. His dick is painfully throbbing — begging for the reprieve of being squeezed by your gummy walls.

“Are you as much of a mess as I am, baby?” He asks as his hand dips into your pants. His eyebrows furrow, and he lets out a low groan as his fingers are instantly coated in your slick. He slips his hand back out of your pants just to slide his fingers into his mouth. He holds eye contact with you as he hums in satisfaction. He'll never get enough of your taste.

“You want this, don’t you? Want me to fuck you where my parents can hear you?” He slides his hand back down into your pants, and his fingers rub tight, firm circles against your clit, making your body squirm from pleasure.

“Nngh~ ah!” You’re already so noisy, and he hasn’t even began fucking you yet.

“Give ‘em a show, baby. Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

“Mmm~ Ken…” You moan as your back arches up off the bed. His fingers press down harder on your swollen clit.

“You can do better than that, darling.” He can be so condescending in bed, using that insatiable need for praise against you.

“Ken!” You shout, all logical thought has abandoned you. He tells you to do better? You do better.

“Good girl.” He purrs before sliding his hand out of your pants. He can’t get your clothes off of you quick enough. His cock is beckoning for attention, still neglected from yesterday of just eating you out.

Your hands shakily try to unbutton his shirt, and he chuckles lowly at your pitiful efforts. “Aw, my poor girl. Already so shaken up. Go on. You can do it.”

You huff at his taunting. Usually, he’d just see you struggling and take off his clothes for you, but today he was thriving off watching you so desperately trying to get his clothes off him.

It takes you a minute to get his clothes off him, and you don’t even properly take off his pants. You merely shoved them down along with his boxers just low enough for his monstrous cock to spring out. Nanami merely watches you with a cocky smirk.

“Yeah? This is what you wanted?” He purrs lowly, and he carefully drags his tip up and down your core, smearing his precum along your lips as if his tip was giving you a sloppy kiss.

“Gonna take all of it, aren’t you?” His other hand releases your wrists, and he lovingly cups your cheek. His hand is so big compared to your face. He loves watching you nuzzle up into his palm.

You nod your head quickly in response, lifting your hips up to meet his with each slow movement. Wet slippery noises from your cunt weeping for him fill the room.

“Use your words.” He demands before he speaks up louder — just to spite his parents who are right below you two. “I said. You’re going to take this dick like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” You whine before your body is completely shell shocked from a quick slap to your cunt. His cock is so heavy — you can feel the weight of it as his rudely smacks it against you again.

“Louder.”

“Yes sir-!” You immediately oblige, following his commands without a second thought in your brain.

His lips curl into a lopsided grin, and he carefully guides his sweltering tip towards your entrance, plugging your hole with just his head.

“Keep being a good girl like that, and I might have to give you baby. Do you want that?” He asks while carefully stretching you by fucking his tip in and out of your tight hole. “You wanna have my baby, don’t you?”

“Ffffuck- Ken! T-too much..” You squirm your body against his bedsheets, and he chuckles at your poor attempt at getting away.

“You clearly want this, so why are you running?” He hands latch onto your thighs, and he pulls you back down towards him, inadvertently impaling you even further on his cock.

A smug chuckles bubbles up in his throat as he sees how much of a mindless mess you are. He loves how he can make you all dumb so quickly with his dick. It brings him great joy to know that you trust him and can just let go, letting the more primal urges take over.

“Mmm~ so tight and wet for me, aren’t you darling? Need to just let Ken take care of you, yeah?” His voice is like velvet as he slowly thrusts himself in and out, sinking deeper into you with each movement, splitting you wide open.

“Ah~! nnnnn… so good.” You manage to whine out.

“What a crybaby. I know you can take me better than that, darling.” Nanami gives you a soft kiss on the forehead before his large hand wraps around your neck, applying pressure in just the right spots to make you all lightheaded.

"Come on. Show me how good you can take it~" His hips snap forward suddenly, sinking his full length deep inside you. Your eyes roll back into your head as he takes full control over you.

His hips are pounding forward, bumping his tip right against your cervix with every mean thrust. His balls are heavy and slapping against the flesh of your ass — a reminder for how pent up he's been recently.

Maybe it's the lack of an orgasm for the last couple of days or maybe it's his parents being utter assholes to you, but Kento finds himself feeling frustrated all over again. Low grunts and growls escape him, and he uses his grip on your neck to push himself in even further -- harder.

The sound of skin clapping against skin fills the room, and his childhood beds starts to squeak out with each forceful blow. He knows for a fact that his parents can hear every single noise. The thin walls of this house absolutely hide nothing. He may as well have fucked you right there against the kitchen table to really prove a point.

"Fuck-! Kenkenkenken! Ah~" You can't even form sentences much less words other than his name. Before you can even warn him, your walls begin to pulse around him - practically milking him while your orgasm takes you over. "Nnngh~ I-I love you.."

"Mmnn~ I didn't tell you that you could do that, sweetheart." He hazel eyes bore into your very soul as his grin shifts to a more wild one. His hips move with even more vigor as if he's trying to push himself straight into your womb,

His hand lets go of your throat, finally allowing you to get a deep breath of air while trying to cope with his massive size pumping in and out of you as if you're nothing but a senseless fuck toy, but you clearly fucking love it. You're practically dripping all over him, soaking his bedsheets in your arousal.

At this point, his parents aren't sure if he's killing you or fucking you. Either way, they're too afraid to intervene. They didn't raise a gentleman at all. They raised a monster.

"Mmph... Need to give you a baby. Can I? You'd make such a pretty mama. School be damned. I need you." Normally, Nanami is pretty controlled over his pillow talk. He's really good at it, but right now, he's completely lost in you -- just babbling promises of giving you a baby and marrying you.

"Y-yes, Ken! Fuck... give me a baby, please." Your legs are trembling around his waist, and your fingernails are giving him such pretty decorations along his back. Small trophies for fucking you just right.

"Fuuuck- Take it. T... take it all..." His voice is a gravely groan as his cock twitches inside you, spilling all of his seed directly into your tummy. It's so fucking much from holding back for a couple of days - completely filling you up. "I love you so much. Gonna marry you one day."

The house is eerily silent for a moment as both you and Nanami catch your breaths. He stays planted on top of you, keeping your legs hooked around his waist. Small creaks of footsteps against a floorboard fill the air, and you tense up, thinking his parents were going to come in there and raise all sorts of problems.

Nanami gently strokes your face with the back of his hand. "Shhh, they're not coming in here. Promise." He whispers lowly, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You slowly relax in his arms, trusting his words that his parents weren't going to come in there.

You can hear a door open and shut, and it sounds like bickering back and forth between his parents.

"See? They're just going to bed." He presses another reassuring kiss to your cheek.

His hips continue to lazily pump in and out of you, basically fucking his cum back into you as it seeps out. His cock is hyper sensitive, but he can't get enough. You're completely drenched for him. You deserve more of his loving.

"Keennn~" You whine quietly, shifting in the bed slightly as your legs are all achy and sore from him taking out all of his anger on you.

"What is it, baby?" He asks in a hushed whisper against your ear. His breath tickles your skin, making you slightly squirm in response. "I'm just making sure it takes, yeah?" His cock sinks further into you, already growing hard all over again even though he just finished.

"Mmmph~" You hum as your eyes slipped closed. Nanami smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, knowing that you're already needy all over again for him.

"Answer me, darling. Want me to stop?" He asks while peppering kisses all over your face. If the last round was about degradation and taking his anger out, then this one was about how much he loves you and can't get enough of you.

"Nonono... don't stop, please." You murmur out quickly, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.

"That's my good girl... Always needin' more, aren't you?" He hums lowly, and his cock pumps in and out so slowly, delicately smushing against your cervix with each loving thrust.

"Mmn.. I love you." You slur out, completely cock drunk at this point. Kento just smiles and continues to dote on your with messy kisses against your cheeks and neck. His hand is gently massaging your breast, just barely teasing your nipple while he makes love to you.

"And I love you, darling." He responds before he feels you squeezing around him already. "Oh pretty, again?" He asks as his eyes look down to your fluids gushing around his length. "Such a mess. How are we meant to sleep on these sheets now?"

"'m sorry... I c-couldn't help it. 'm so sorry." You whimper as your face dips into his shoulder, hiding you obvious embarrassment.

Kento's arms wrap around your waist, and he uses his hold on you to drag you up and down along his length — still moving at such a torturously slow pace, making you feel every inch as it enters you.

"Aw, that's alright, darling. I'll clean us up. Just take a little bit more for me, yeah?" He whispers into your ear while your pelvis is slotting against his. He's damn near holding you up into his arms. Lucky you for having such a strong boyfriend.

His lips find yours for a messy kiss. His tongue slips past your lips, claiming your mouth as his completely. A few seconds later, his cock is pumping you full again with his cum — still so much on the second round.

Without even missing a beat, Nanami's mumbling breathily in your ear. "Mmm, I know I said I'd clean us up, but you wouldn't hate a third round, would you?"

*** *** ***

Nanami didn't wake you up the next morning to watch him work on the car. He knew your poor little body was put through the ringer yesterday, so he gave you a tender kiss on the temple before making his way into the garage in just his sleeping pants and socks.

His father's car was already propped up on the jack, and his father groaned as he leaned up off the ground. "Well good morning." He says in a knowing tone.

"Good morning. Why are you down there? I told you I'd fix it today." Nanami asks as he shoos his dad out of his way, and he slides himself underneath the car.

"Well, I didn't know if you'd be up for it after your fun ventures last night." His dad hands Nanami a tool to help get the brake pads off the car.

Nanami stays silent. In his new found clarity, he does know that fucking you so loudly to where his parents can hear was a weird retaliation method, but he doesn't regret doing it.

"Your mother cried all night last night."

"Maybe she needs a reality check if she's that damn upset about who I choose to romantically involve myself with." Nanami rolls his eyes, and he grunts as he forces the brake pad away from the car.

"I don't think she was crying because of that. I think she realizes just how far she drove you away from her with her constant pressure over your love life." His dad explains, and he hands Nanami the new brake pad to replace on the car. "I'm not saying you or yn have to forgive her for how she acted today, but I am asking that you try to give her another chance today. I think she understands now."

Nanami takes a deep breath, but he nods quietly. "She's got one more time to say anything rude to my girlfriend, and we're taking the first train back to the university."

*** *** ***

Your eyes darted over to Nanami's nervously when his mother asked you to have a girl's day with her, but your boyfriend gently rubbed your back, silently assuring you that it'd be okay. At least, he hoped it'd be okay.

Nanami: Text me if she says anything rude. I'll pack our stuff up and we'll leave, okay?

Luckily, you didn't have to text him at all that day. His mom took you sight seeing around the town, out to eat at one of Hakone's favorite restaurants, and you two got your nails done.

"You know, I was being a bad person yesterday." She starts off as you two are sat next to each other. Her feet are being massaged by one of the workers, and you're getting your toes painted. "I guess I just had this idea of how I wanted Kento's life to go, and when things started not going to plan, I started trying to grasp onto anything that'd give me control."

You glance over at his mother, and she has a small nostalgic smile upon her face. "I can't believe I allowed myself to act that way towards you... especially after my parents did the same thing to Kento's dad."

"Your parents didn't accept Kento either?" You curiously ask, wondering how similar your stories were.

"No, but they didn't try to arrange me into a marriage either. They just didn't think Kento's dad was manly enough for me. They didn't like seeing me wear the pants in the relationship, but that's just what works for us... I use to beg for them to just let us be happy, but they never stopped criticizing him. I finally just.. stopping talking to them when I fell pregnant with Kento." She explains in a voice raw with emotion. You can clearly see how this still impacts her to this day.

"I don't want Ken to do the same to me... I want to be in his and your life and my future grandchild's life if that's what you two choose to do. I raised him well, and I know he has a good judgement of character. So, I know you must be a good person. If he's happy, then that's all that matters to me." She goes on, giving you a small apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry for how I acted towards you last night. It will never happen again."

*** *** ***

Nanami had spent the whole day checking his phone religiously while his dad kept him employed with random home renovation tasks. He was waiting for the moment to start packing up your stuff and telling his mom that he wasn't going to speak to them again.

When he heard sounds of wailing coming from the front door, he immediately hopped off the ladder that his dad was holding for him.

"Kento-!" His dad shouts as he wobbles around, but Nanami was already speed walking towards the front door to see what was happening.

To his surprise, there was no wailing. It was only hysterical laughter coming from you and his mom. He stood in the door way with a confused look on his face as he observed you two.

"Yes, he was such a cutie pie.." His mom laughs as she shows you another picture of Kento in high school.

"Aww, Ken... you didn't tell me you were emo." You greeted your boyfriend with a fit of giggles from seeing his high school photos. His fringe proudly in view.

Nanami rakes his hands through his shorter hair now, and he lets out a relieved laugh. Seeing you interact so happily with his mom was enough to make him feel full with love. His heart feels at ease now... until he remembers that he has to meet your parents at some point.

tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[prythianpages]

Be Patient | Azriel x Reader

summary: After the mating bond snaps, Azriel follows you to the Day Court, where he spends seven days patiently longing after you.

warnings: fluff, mild angst bc of Az pining and lowkey being a menace in day court and reader being a little dense, also this is really long, 11K, my longest one shot ever...

note: This is a part two to Be Safe but can be read as a stand alone too. Huge shoutout to @stormhearty , @daycourtofficial & @thecrowesnest13 & the sweet overexcited anon who helped me with this! This is set pre-ACOTAR events and I realized my mistake in naming Helion as High Lord because I think he became High Lord UTM? so for this fic's sake, let's just assume he was already High Lord..

Mate. 

The realization crashes over Azriel like a tidal wave. It’s almost suffocating. Mine, the bond in his chest roars. Protect. The emotions swell, fueled by his shadows whispering and urging him on to go and keep you safe. Because who better to do so than him?

Before he knows it, he’s following you into Day Court, his shadows swallowing his form until Mor’s and Cassian’s laughter are distant echoes.

Piercing violet eyes greet him as soon as he steps out from his shadows, blocking his view. It’s almost as if he had been expecting Azriel. Talons rake across the shields of his mind and Azriel reluctantly lets him in. Go back, Rhysand asserts, holding the shadowsinger’s gaze.

I can’t, he nearly growls in his mind. 

The thought of leaving you, not being by your side is insufferable. It’s this very thought that has some of his shadows dancing toward you, the shadow curled around his ear whispering to him about your whereabouts. You stand, a couple of feet away, speaking with Helion. You’re completely oblivious to the two Illyrian males glaring at one another.

What do you mean you can’t? Rhysand doesn’t even attempt to hide the irritation in his tone.

Azriel then shows Rhysand what happened just moments ago. The mating bond snapping into place right as you were winnowing away. He leaves out the part where Cassian and Mor had been teasing him but he suspects Rhysand was aware of that.

Rhysand lets out a sigh, running a hand down the length of his face. What appears to be exhaustion tears through his features before he leans in toward the taller male. “Really?” He whispers in an exasperated hush. “Right now?

Azriel falters with a huff, his head following the direction his shadows had gone. It’s only when his gaze lands on you that it softens. “You say it like I had a choice.” 

But boy is he glad it is you.

”Fine,” Rhysand sighs after a long moment of silence. He knows he can’t do anything about it, the determination in the Shadowsinger’s eyes burning bright. He’d fear going against the Cauldron if he did. “You can stay. But—“ he lifts a jewel adorned finger in warning“—you distract her—“

Azriel’s head turns back to Rhysand and there’s a frown on his face. ”I don’t distract her.”

”Please,” Rhysand chuckles in disbelief. “Listen, I’m happy for you. Truly. But we didn’t come all this way for nothing and I need her to be able to focus. She can’t even think properly around you and if she finds out you’re her–”

“She thinks about me?”

Rhysand shuts his mouth with a withering stare.

Azriel’s shadows are then whispering madly, coercing him to turn his attention back to you. You’re giggling and smiling at Helion, cheeks flushed with a blush. Azriel flushes too but for an entirely different reason. Helion has your hand in his, amber eyes holding you captive, as he’s slowly lifting it up to his lips. 

Shadows are coiling softly around your wrist and before Helion can kiss your hand, your hand is being pulled away from his. Helion’s brows furrow, hand falling to his side as one lone shadow floats in front of him. He is not fluent in shadows but the way it writhes at him gives one clear message.  

”Oh, hi!”

Azriel watches, taking note of the small fond smile that forms on your face as you recognize the dark tendrils wrapped around your arm. Your eyes find him almost immediately and then you’re walking toward him.   

“Azriel, what are you doing here?”

“Shadowsinger,” Helion purrs in greeting, a pleased smirk on his face that grows at Azriel’s indifferent nod. “I was not aware you were coming too.”

Rhysand places a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the soft, black leather. Don’t say anything. Rhysand warns in his mind. We’ll talk somewhere else.

Rhysand forces a charming smile onto his face and Helion’s eyes flicker with interest. “I apologize for the short notice but Azriel is here to… escort y/n.”

“Escort?”

Both you and Helion say in unison. Though Helion’s tone carries mirth, yours carries shock. Confusion clouds your features, worry flickering in your wide eyes. Rhysand must’ve eased your mind, for Azriel feels the tension leave your muscles shortly afterwards. Still, you inch closer to him, as if seeking the comfort of his presence. He instinctively mirrors your movement, the blue siphons on his leathers brushing against your arm and gleaming in response.

 “You offend me, Rhys. I’ve welcomed you to my court with no ill intention.” Helion chides, though his voice is light with humor.

“y/n here is just very precious to us,” Rhysand says, choosing his words carefully. “I hope you can understand.”

Azriel’s shadows whisper the details of the scene around him, noting the apologetic look Rhysand sends to Helion. The High Lord of Day chuckles, but Azriel’s focus remains steadfastly on you. You turn to him with a questioning smile and he returns your smile, the warmth in his hazel eyes answering your unspoken question.

“I can see why,” comes Helion’s response, gaze lingering on you with an appreciative gleam.

Azriel’s head whips fast toward the High Lord of the Day Court and another sigh escapes Rhysand.

**

“Seven days. That’s all I ask.”

“That’s seven days too long, Rhys.”

Rhysand falters back, appalled by those words. He lets out a small laugh.  “Too long? Seven days is too long but a whole century wasn’t?”

“It hasn’t been a century,” Azriel hisses and Rhysand raises his brows. “It’s been eighty nine years. Besides, it’s different now.”

You’re his mate now.  

The mating bond had snapped into place with such force that he was still reeling from its impact. It was as if every emotion of his was amplified, sending a startling quiver through those golden threads in his chest. Jealousy jerked the most. It’s why every few seconds, his gaze flickered towards the hall you had disappeared into with the High Lord known for his scandalous appetites. One of his shadows had stayed with you and though he knew it would come back if Helion tried anything, it did nothing to ease him. He should be beside you right now. Not beside Rhysand, who seemed keen on keeping you from him.

“You saw the way she looked at you when you arrived.”

Azriel turned back to Rhysand, that image of you reappearing in his mind from Rhysand’s perspective. Surprise had flickered across your features, but like a passing storm cloud, it swiftly gave way to brightness. Your eyes sparkled, your lips curved into a fond smile. Without hesitation, you left Helion's side, drawn instinctively toward Azriel.  It was as if nothing else mattered but him, as if there was no one else in the world but you two.

The bond in his chest sings in delight because overriding all other emotions swirling madly around, there is love.

Azriel had loved you long before the bond’s sudden manifestation. His feelings had grown silently over the years, nurtured through shared moments and unspoken gestures. He knew he had to confess his feelings to you–something that had been eating at him for years. Eighty nine years to be exact, as he pointed out just a moment ago.

But fear always held him back.

Fear that he had mistaken your kindness for something more. Fear that he would ruin the decades of friendship you two had built. Fear that you loved him but not enough to see past his scars.

He realizes now how ridiculous those fears sound.

The kindness you harbored for him was not the same kindness you showed others. Your friendship was strong and precious, something he would fiercely protect no matter what. Your hand always sought his, never showing disgust towards the marred roughness of his own. You had even dedicated so much of your time to researching Prythian’s herbs and treatment for burns, working with Madja to make a special concoction–a soothing balm to alleviate the inevitable pains. 

By the Mother, he was a fool and it took the bond snapping into place to realize it.

“Yes. You both are.”

Now, the golden threads in his chest urged him to confess, to bridge that small lingering distance between you–

“But you can’t. Not now.”

“Get out of my head,” Azriel snaps, glaring at his brother.

“Well, I can’t help it if you’re thinking so loudly,” Rhysand replies, a touch defensively. “Look, y/n has been looking forward to this trip so much. If you tell her about the bond, it will consume her every thought and cloud that brilliant mind of hers. I know this is selfish of me but I need her to be focused and you to be patient.”

Azriel’s glare wavers. He knows how much this trip means to you. It was the first time Rhysand was entrusting a task upon you outside of the Night Court’s borders. Getting to see the magnificent library of the Day Court was also all your bibliophile heart could talk about. His desire to protect you and respect your focus battled fiercely with his yearning to tell you about the bond.

“Seven days?”

“Seven days,” Rhysand confirms, the tension easing from his face. “Then, she’s all yours. Just be patient.”

Azriel scoffs. “I’ll be so patient.”

But as they both join you and Helion for dinner, something tells Rhysand that this is going to be a long week.

**

Helion had hosted an extravagant feast for you all last night, even bringing out his finest, aged whiskey to celebrate. He had toasted it to Azriel, the surprise guest, with a cheeky wink. When his flirtatious efforts went ignored, Helion had turned his affections toward you. A notion that left Azriel seething and Rhysand on guard.

After dinner, Helion had given you a brief tour of the palace and introduced you to the fae you encountered along the way. To Azriel’s relief, the room he’d be staying in was right across from yours. His shadows had eagerly scouted the halls and both your rooms, becoming attuned to every creak and sound as an extra measure of safety. They fell asleep before he did and were the ones to wake him up when they heard you shuffling around your room.

As Azriel laces his leathers, the dark tendrils rush toward his door, peeking out underneath. It seems they are just as eager as he is to see you.

“Good morning!” You chirp happily, practically buzzing with excitement as you greet him at his door. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” A lie. Your joy is so contagious it’s easy to mask his exhaustion, his smile matching yours. “Did you?” 

He had, in fact, not slept well.

How could he when his anxiety began to gnaw at him? Because what if you grew tired of waiting for him within these seven days and gave into Helion’s charm? Each time he closed his eyes, his mind flashed with images of you reciprocating Helion’s advances, and sneaking off into his chambers in the middle of the night...

You give a noncommittal hum in response, pulling him out of his inner turmoil and bring him back to you.

 “I’m really glad you’re here, Az.”

Azriel’s shadows mirror your enthusiasm. A faint blush takes over his cheeks as you grasp his hand to tug him along with you. “Rhys has private business to attend to with Helion and I did not want to do this alone,” you say, waving your bucket list in the air with your free hand.

Of course, you had a list of things you’d like to do in Day. It instilled another fear into Azriel because what if you fell in love with Day and refused to go back to Night? He eyes all the bullet points on that list of yours and refuses to let himself make that fear come true.

Anything you loved here, he would make sure to remind you that the Night Court could do better.

“And who better to spend the day with than my loyal shadowsinger, right?” You remark with a playful glint in your eye.

“Right,” Azriel replies and there’s a brightness in his heart at your words. My loyal shadowsinger. His shadows dance in agreement.

But there is one thing the Night Court can’t replicate, a truth he reluctantly acknowledges as you both step outside into the warmth of the sun. 

A radiant smile breaks out on your face as you bask in the bright sunlight. Its golden glow kisses your skin, highlighting every feature he adores.

His leathers are not meant for this type of weather. He can feel himself growing hot, his shadows already endlessly working to keep him cool. Though you were dressed in something lighter than him, a pale blue dress, some of them flit toward you to do the same.

Azriel allows you to pull him along, savoring the feel of your hand in his. The cobblestone streets of the Day Court’s market are narrow, flanked by vibrant stalls and lively vendors. He tucks his wings tightly against his back to avoid brushing against the bustling crowd. His grip on your hand is firm. He tells himself it’s to ensure he doesn’t lose you amidst the sea of fae, but deep down, he has no intention of ever letting go.

Your first stop is a quaint little shop that, according to your research, sells the best espresso in Prythian. Azriel prefers his coffee black but you convince him to try Day’s specialty, a honey lavender latte. 

You watch him, awaiting his response.

“I hate it,” he tells you, though it’s surprisingly good. Really good.  “Velaris has better coffee.”

You take your drink back with a shrug as you head to your next stop. The flower market. As you stroll through the market stalls, you point out a cluster of flowers, your voice tinged with excitement as you describe their origins and meanings. You’re like a living encyclopedia and Azriel has always admired this about you. He asks you more questions, even if he already has the answers. Just so that he can see the light in your eyes dance with every word you speak.

A beautiful pink blossom catches his eyes as he’s read about it before, already familiar with its meaning. An idea sparks into his mind. Maybe, if he starts dropping hints, it’d make his impending confession go smoother. He tugs on your hand gently. “And this one?”

“It’s a pink camelia. A symbol of love, adoration and longing.”

He tosses a coin to the merchant and then picks the prettiest pink camelia among the bunch. He tucks it behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. The shadows that cling to him, hiding from the sun, peek out from above his shoulders, stirring in anticipation as you look up at Azriel and smile.

“y/n, I–”

His words hang in the air, the tendrils too distracted by you to notice the merchant approaching. Suddenly, a hand appears between you both, golden bracelets dangling before your eyes. “A pretty bracelet for the pretty lady?” the fae male asks. “They’re one of a kind!”

Your eyes widen as you take in the shimmering jewelry. “How much?”

“Ten coins,” the merchant replies, but as his eyes roam over you, he adds, “But for you, five.”

“Okay,” you agree, not having the heart to say no.

You reach for one of the gold bracelets, its chain holding a gleaming sun made of amber in the center. Before you can even open your coin purse, Azriel shoves ten coins into the merchant’s awaiting hand, his glare sending the man skittering away.

“Thank you,” you say to Azriel, struggling to clasp the bracelet around your wrist. Azriel gestures for you to let him help, and you do, watching the subtle furrow of his brow as he fastens the hook. “But why did you give him ten coins? He said five…”

“I didn’t,” Azriel lies smoothly for the second time this morning, and when your eyes narrow in suspicion, he simply smiles and tilts his head toward the right. “Shouldn’t we be heading to the art gallery if we want to make it to the water fountain show in time?”

That gets you going.

Your hold on his hand tightens as you lead the way to the art gallery. There, you’re captivated by the various amounts of artwork from Day, one of them being a very detailed and very naked sculpture of Helion. Azriel can’t help but remind you of the beauty of the Rainbow of Velaris, tugging you along, using the water fountain show as an excuse to get you to leave quicker. 

Afterwards, you visit a bookstore and many other stores, discovering that the bracelet on your wrist was not one-of-a-kind. They are available in various stores, each offering different variations. Instead of feeling disappointed, you find one specially for Azriel. Its chain is silver, adorned with a glimmering moon made from moonstone, a perfect complement to your amber sun.

By the time you both return to the palace, the sky is painted with hues of twilight, signaling it’s almost dinner time. 

“Thank you for helping me carry all my stuff,” you say with a sheepish grin, glancing at the bags scattered on your floor, most of them filled with gifts for the rest of the inner circle members since they couldn’t come along.

“Of course,” Azriel replies with a soft smile, his eyes warm. He had refused to let you lift a finger.

Standing on your tip-toes, you aim to kiss his cheek but underestimate the height difference, your lips landing on his jaw instead. The touch has the same effect. Azriel blushes, his wings twitching slightly, and his shadows snicker behind him. He hopes you can't hear them.

“Are you sure–” he clears his throat “–are you sure you don’t need help packing them up too?”

Your eyes light up and then you’re pulling him into your room. Unfortunately, no more kisses came from that. However, the shared smiles and easy conversation made it all worth it.

Be patient, he reminds himself. But he can't help but think of the golden threads unraveling in his chest, giving them an experimental tug. There’s no response, yet he hopes that yours will entwine with his any day now, binding you together forever.

**

As the golden, morning light of the Day Court bathes the grand hall, Azriel waits for you to enter the place where you'd have breakfast together. When he hears your approaching footsteps, he turns.

Suddenly, he finds himself unable to think. Unable to breathe, even.  

 You were beautiful. He was well aware of this, always has been. But today, you were absolutely stunning, like a goddess descended from the heavens. 

The dress you wore was different from your usual Night court dresses and though it screamed Day court fashion, Azriel couldn’t bring himself to care. The delicate ivory, flowing fabric draped elegantly over your body. His eyes trace every detail of the dress, from the plunging neckline to the high slits that reveal the soft and inviting skin of your legs. There’s a tightness in his throat when he catches a glimpse of the gold garter adorning your thigh.

“Good morning,” you greet him with a smile, a hint of shyness in your eyes despite the boldness of the dress.

"Morning," he barely manages to say.

“Good morning indeed,” Helion purrs as he appears behind you, Rhysand at his side.

Azriel, captivated by your beauty, barely registered the expression on Helion's face. Meanwhile, his shadows moved with a protective instinct, delicately brushing against your legs as if to shield you from Helion's lingering gaze. 

As you approach him, Azriel's heart continues to hammer against his chest. He musters up a smile. Though small, it’s full of admiration and awe. 

Helion chuckles. “My oh my, Rhysand. I did not know your Shadowsinger was capable of smiling.”

Rhysand lets out an amused exhale. His tone is light but it carries a subtle warning. “He’s capable of many things, including patience.”

A muscle feathers in Azriel’s jaw as he falls into step with you. He doesn’t notice the small frown that takes over your features. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says, voice sweet despite the slightly sour expression on his face.

You shake your head in protest. “You look all hot and bothered.”

Azriel chokes on his spit. “Excuse me?”

“You’re already sweating,” you explain to him, reaching up with your free hand to brush his dark curls away from his forehead. His wings flutter in response to the surprise touch. “And it’s barely morning. Come on, you’re not wearing those leathers today. I’m sure Helion left some clothes for you too.”

Azriel heats up at the mention of Helion’s name, his mind briefly flickering to the thought of the High Lord leaving such a dress for you. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it further as you tug him back toward the room he’s staying in, mumbling about how Azriel has a death wish for wearing such thick clothing in the Day Court.

But it’s the High Lord of the Day Court who has a death wish, Azriel thinks.

“We won’t be long!” You call over your shoulder to Rhysand and Helion, who both give a dismissive wave.

Helion shakes his head in amusement. “Are they always like this?”

Rhysand lets out a snort. “Unfortunately.”

“Come. Let us have a drink. I believe we’re in very much need of one.”

“This early in the morning?”

“My friend, have you not had orange juice and champagne? Such a lovely, delightful combination. I call it a mimosa…”

**

Back in Azriel's room, you rummage through the clothes Helion had left for him. His eyes soften as you continue to fuss over him. Though he complains about it, he secretly loves when you fuss over him. He has to peel his gaze away from you when you bend down to pick up a top, his thoughts threatening to drift elsewhere if he doesn't.

Hot. Bothered. His shadows repeat your words from earlier to him and he eyes them with a glare.

Despite Helion’s wish for Azriel to wear a toga like he proudly does, Azriel is relieved at what you picked out for him. He’s also touched that you know him well enough to pick something close to his taste.  “Here,” you say, holding up a pair of loose fitting dark trousers and a sheen, flowy white top with a deep v neck similar to the one of your dress. “This will be perfect for today.”

“Fine,” Azriel murmurs, reluctantly taking the garments from you. Your fingers brush against his, sending a spark through him.

“I trust you can dress yourself from here,” you tease, giving him a playful pat on his shoulder.

Azriel lets out a scoff, resisting the urge to reply with a roguish remark. He quickly changes into the clothes you picked out for him, not wanting to cut into your breakfast time any more than necessary. Today is a busy day for you, as you will spend most of it in the library, researching all about the death gods for an assignment Rhysand gave you.

When he steps out of the room, your eyes light up as they look over his body. His muscles flex instinctively when your gaze lingers on the tattoos swirling on his chest. You blink, and with a smile say, “Radiant.”

Azriel feels the blood rush to his neck. He’s received many compliments before but never something as bright as “radiant.”  He suddenly yearns to hear more–only if they come from your pretty lips.

“Y/n, have I ever told you how much I—” Your eyebrows raise in curiosity, and he loses his resolve, Rhysand’s warning echoing in his head. “—appreciate you…”

Those were not the words Azriel had intended, and he lets out a defeated breath. Yet, your smile does not falter. Instead, you hook your arm through his, beaming up at him as you guide him through the halls.

“I believe you have but please, enlighten me again…”

**

Helion’s gaze fixes on you and Azriel as you finally joined them for breakfast. Dressed in resplendent Day Court fashion, the two of you look ravishing, and Helion cannot decide who is more captivating–you or the stoic shadowsinger at your side. 

His affections have always met a brick wall with the Illyrian male. So naturally, when another pretty face shows up at his court, he focuses all his attention on you. He savors your sweet reactions and Azriel’s jealous ones, sensing more between you two. He’s determined to unravel it.

After breakfast, Helion sidles up beside you, flashing a charming smile. “Allow me to admire you more closely, Lady Y/n,” he says, his voice smooth and rich as he extends his hand.

Azriel’s jaw clenches, his shadows swirling restlessly when you take Helion’s hand. Helion’s smile widens, and then he gestures for you to spin. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”

You gasp, eyes widening in delight and cheeks tinting with a delicate blush. “You know Shakespeare?”

“Know it? I live it.” Helion responds. “I have his original copies in my personal library. You can come take a look, if you’d like. Just give me a day to…organize things.”

Azriel’s eyes narrow, not liking the intonation in the High Lord’s voice. Helion can feel that primal instinct–the possessiveness Azriel feels for you–simmering beneath the surface. His eyes widen slightly in acknowledgement and then he’s turning to Rhysand.

"Helion,” Rhysand drawls, confirming his suspicions. “As y/n’s escort, you're making Azriel's shadows rather restless.”

Helion laughs, a rich, melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it if your historian is so captivating, Rhysand," he says, winking at you and delighting in the response it shakes from Azriel.

**

Azriel falls into step behind you as Helion guides you all toward the magnificent library of the Day Court. Sunlight streams through towering windows, casting rainbows across the marble floors. You had praised it as the biggest and most beautiful library in all of Prythian. As Azriel stands in front of the entrance, he reluctantly acknowledges that none of the libraries in the Night Court could come close if this is just how the entrance looks.

As Azriel moves to step inside with you, Rhysand stops him.

"What are you doing?" Azriel huffs, peering over Rhysand's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the awed expression on your face as Helion talks to you. "I'm Y/n's escort, remember?"

“There’s no need for one in the library. You’ll only be a distraction here.” Rhysand replies and sensing his apprehension, he adds. “She’ll be safe here. I promise.”

“But–”

“No,” Rhysand interrupts and Azriel’s gaze hardens. A playful glint dances in Rhysand’s violet eyes. “Go take a walk, a cold shower or perhaps, read up on some poetry.”

 With that, Rhysand enters the library, motioning for the guards to shut the door. As the door closes, a single dark tendril manages to slide through. 

I don’t resort to poetry, Azriel thinks bitterly and he swears he hears Rhysand’s chuckle in his mind.

**

That night, during dinner, Helion took all your attention as the two of you quoted and mused over poetry, Rhysand chiming in occasionally. Azriel remained silent, a muscle ticking at his jaw.

The following morning, Azriel didn’t get a chance to speak to you much either. You and Rhysand were deep in discussion, strategizing how to tackle the vast array of books about the old gods. Azriel hadn’t even finished his coffee when you abruptly stood from your seat, mouth still full of food, and hurried off towards the library. The golden threads buried deep in his chest stirred with your passion.

So while you spent your day in the library, engrossed in your research, Azriel decided to spend his day doing his own research. He had his shadows sneak into your room and retrieve one of the poetry books he is certain you bought with you. You read one every night before bed.

Azriel reads some of the poems, engraving the words into his memory, just in case. He ends up falling asleep in his room, the lack of sleep finally catching up to him. His shadows stir him awake, hours later, pointing to the clock hanging across from him. It’s almost dinner time so Azriel freshens up and then makes his way toward the library. 

“Hey, you,” you greet Azriel happily, two of his shadows trailing behind you, as you step out of the library. The second one had joined you this morning as the first one had been feeling lonely. “I think they like me better than you.”

“Keep them,” Azriel shrugs. When you're not looking, he gives them a knowing nod, though his voice feigns annoyance. “Traitors.”

“What did you do today?” You ask, falling into step beside him as you two walk toward the dining hall. “Anything interesting?”

“I learned something.”

“Yeah?”

Azriel turns to you, his expression serious as he clears his throat. "She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright... uh, meet in her something…eyes…?"

You blink at him, confusion furrowing your brow. "Something eyes?"

Before Azriel can explain, Helion chimes in, that cheeky grin plastered on his face. "It's 'Meet in her aspect and her eyes,’" he corrects smoothly, his eyes twinkling with amusement, as he beckons for you to take your seats.

Azriel shoots a glare at Helion and Rhysand kicks him under the table in warning. Helion chuckles, unfazed by the death stare coming from Azriel as he continues. 

“She walks in beauty, like the night. Of Cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

“Oh, Lord Byron!” you say in recognition, turning to Azriel with a look that soothes his embarrassment. “She Walks in Beauty. What a lovely poem. Did you know it was one of my favorites?”

“I didn’t,” Azriel replies casually, though inwardly his heart races and his shadows race to cover the blush delicately tinting his neck. Of course he knew it was your favorite. You had scribbled hearts all over the page in your book. “I just liked it and thought I’d share it with you.”

Your smile widens, touched by his gesture. “I thought you didn’t fancy poetry, Az.”

“I thought the same,” Rhysand says, eyes narrowing at Azriel.

"I'm full of surprises," Azriel says dryly, meeting Rhysand's gaze evenly.

“Well, let’s hope it’s the last of your surprises.”

“I believe I also have some of Lord Byron’s works. How about I finally show you my personal library after dinner?” Helion speaks, directing all attention back to him.

Azriel opens his mouth to protest, not liking the inviting gaze in the High Lord’s eyes, but Helion interjects smoothly. “No worries, escort, ” Helion says, his grin widening. “I’ll take good care of y/n.”

Azriel sulks, a bitter taste in his mouth from Helion’s effortless charm throughout dinner. He tries his best to keep you from leaving, insisting you try every single dessert laid out on the table. Barely halfway through, you slump back in your chair, claiming you can’t eat another bite without bursting.

His ears perk up and he sends a small prayer to the Mother that your full stomach dissuades you from visiting Helion’s personal library, his own stomach not being able to handle the thought. Tonight, it seems The Mother does not favor him. When Helion offers you his arm, you take it excitedly, oblivious to the sulking Shadowsinger you left behind. 

Rhysand laughs, finding amusement in the entire situation, while Azriel shoots him a cold stare. If Rhysand hadn’t ordered Azriel to keep the truth of the bond from you until after your trip here, you wouldn't be alone with Helion now. 

Yet, Azriel can't help but bitterly reflect that if he had only been upfront about his feelings from the start, he wouldn’t be tormented by such longing now, the bond in his chest roaring at the thought of you with another male.

“I think y/n is more than capable of handling a flirtatious High Lord.”

Azriel’s lips twitch into a brief, reluctant smile. “She is. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Cheer up, Az,” Rhysand teases, lifting his glass in a mock-toast to his friend. “There’s always more poetry to practice. Or perhaps, you should stick to brooding. You’re much better at that.”

“Pass the whiskey,” Azriel replies tersely, his lips pressing into a tight line.

“Patience is a virtue, Az.”

“So is silence.”

**

You’re swooning, over the moon, after exploring Helion’s personal library. He showed you his special editions of Lord Byron’s and Shakespeare’s works, allowing you to take one back to your room with you to read. You clutch the book to your chest, humming softly to yourself.

When you reach the hallway, you linger there for a moment, sparing a glance toward Azriel’s room. The night is still young and you’re surprised to see no light seeping through the door. Has he gone to bed already? Worry knits your brows as you wonder if he’s okay. He has been acting strange since he arrived. He had quoted poetry at you for Cauldron’s sake!

You walk toward his door and knock. There’s no answer so you knock again. “Az?”

You frown when you’re met with silence and your hands itch to open the door but you hesitate. He could either be asleep, out flying or out training. He had been eyeing the training grounds of Day during Helion’s tour.

With a sigh, you step into your room and decide to get ready for bed, making a mental note to check up on him in the morning. The day had been long and filled with unexpected twists and tomorrow would only bring another long day. Your eyes were tired from reading so much fine print.

As you're fluffing your pillows, you hear the sound of heavy, booted footsteps. Your mind wanders to Azriel but it can’t be. His steps were always quiet, silenced by his shadows. There’s a pause in the steps and a brief moment of stillness.

Abruptly, your door swings open and you let out a small gasp.

You watch as Azriel stumbles in, your heart flying to your chest in relief. His usually graceful steps falter as if the weight of his massive wings is too much to bear. Shadows cling to his wrists, doing their best to keep their master steady.

A look of pleasant surprise softens his features when he spots you, his hazel eyes widening at the sight of you in your nightgown. He brings a hand up to his neck, rubbing it in an attempt to make the flush spreading across his cheeks go away.

“Y/n,” he hiccups with a pleased grin. “You’re here.”

“Of course I am,” you reply, stifling a laugh at his adorable state. “This is my room.”

Azriel’s expression morphs, his eyebrows furrowing and a slight pout forming on his lips. “Didn’t get to spend the day with you,” he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration as he sways slightly. “Or night… you spent it with Helion instead.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Are you jealous, Az?”

Another hiccup. “Maybe.”

Your stomach flutters at the way he admits it so openly. The two of you have always had a playful, flirty dynamic. It had never gone beyond exchanged glances and lingering touches, though. Azriel never let it, and a part of you feared it was because he was too kind to reject you outright. Now, you begin to wonder if you had misinterpreted the situation all along.

“Well, it’s still night,” you tell him, “And you’re here with me now.”

“I am,” Azriel acknowledges with a hint of surprise, as if realizing it anew. “And I know poetry too…”

 He straightens up, attempting to appear serious again despite the slight slur in his words. "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height... uh, something about sight, I think?”

Did he somehow know this was another of your favorites? It seems unlikely. In all the years you've known him, Azriel has never shown interest in poetry. Or at least up until two hours ago. You should check his forehead. What if he was coming down with something?

Instead, you clear your throat and help him out.

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight. For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee–” your voice wavers at the look Azriel gives you, his hazel eyes shining with an emotion that threatens to weaken your knees. “–to the level of every day’s. Most quiet need, by sun and candle light…”

“I love thee too,” Azriel breathes, holding your gaze and stepping closer to you. “Freely–purely…no, freely as men strive for fight.”

“Right,” you correct with a laugh. “Freely as men strive for right.”

Azriel’s pout deepens, yet there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “Don’t laugh at me,” he mumbles.

He continues to make his way toward you and you hold out your arms, worried he’ll lose his battle with balance. He ends up slumping face-first onto your bed, his wings splaying out behind him. “Can I stay here? Just for a little bit. I missed you all day.”

“Yeah,” you reply with a soft smile. You missed him too. “But can you make room for me on my bed?”

“Mmm,” Azriel hums, turning on his side. He pats at the space right in front of him, his shadows moving to rest behind him to give you space. “Come here, my pretty historian.”

You feel a rush of warmth course through you, momentarily flustered by the nickname. Looking at Azriel, you hesitate. It wouldn’t be the first time you two shared a bed but it’d be the first time you’d share one in a bed not meant to accommodate for Illyrian wings. 

Maybe, it’s best if you help him to his room. Your eyes look toward his shadows and you notice them slowly curling around his back as if going to sleep themselves. They would be no help and neither would Rhys as you were sure he was sharing his night with a pretty fae or two. And you would definitely not be able to carry Azriel back to his room on your own.

So when Azriel pats the bed again, you join him. He frowns when you don’t nestle against him as he wished. Instead, you slip under the covers, resting on your side to face him fully. He adjusts to mirror your position, close enough that you feel his warm breath, noses and hands brushing against each other.

“You smell good,” he says, eyes half-lidded. “Marry me?”

You smile, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his face. “Is that all it takes to marry you? To smell good?”

Azriel’s eyes flutter close, a contented sigh escaping him. “I’d marry you, even if you didn’t smell good,” he says, his words mumbled but filled with affection.

Your heart swells and you lean in to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, feeling exhaustion come over you when Azriel yawns. 

“Goodnight, Az.”

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he murmurs, already drifting off to sleep, a peaceful smile on his face. “My sweet, pretty ma–”

A shadow, one of the ones that have taken a liking to you, crawls over you and rushes to Azriel, curling around his mouth to silence him. You are too tired to think about it, simply letting sleep claim you in each other’s comforting presence.

**

Azriel wakes up with a soft groan, still enveloped by your scent. His shadows stir as he does and he hesitates opening his eyes, not ready to face the aftermath of his drunken state. The impending headache is already breaking the surface. When he opens his eyes, he finds you missing. His worry is eased when one of his shadows brings a small piece of paper to him.

He shifts, moving into a sitting position. One hand rubs at his head while the other takes the note you left for him. 

To my star breaking poet, you looked too peaceful to wake. I left some water, tea and bread on the nightstand. Enjoy.

-your pretty historian

His lips tug up into a smile. He turns his head, finding the drinks and food you left for him. He doesn’t dare touch them though, despite the bond in his chest yearning for him to. He then searches for the clock in your room and his eyes widen. It’s past noon. Azriel has never slept this late or felt so rested, especially after a night of heavy drinking. 

Taking a deep breath, he allows himself to fall back onto the bed, running his hands through his hair and pulling on it. He lingers there a moment longer before finally rising and heading to his room to bathe and get ready for the day. Knowing you'll be in the library all day, he wonders what to do with himself, having given up on poetry after his unsuccessful attempts.

**

Azriel makes himself busy by wandering the palace, feeling a bit uneasy walking so freely in the open. He’s so accustomed to blending into the shadows that this exposure feels unnatural. His shadows cling to him, hiding beneath his cloak, equally uncomfortable with the brightness. The day is cooler, so he’s donned his leathers, a small part of him hoping you'll fuss over him again when you see him.

He visits the markets, but they seem less vibrant without you by his side. He then goes to the training grounds of Day, catching up with his missed training and releasing his pent up frustrations with a training dummy. Upon returning to the palace and washing up, he heads towards the library. Though he can’t enter, he knows there are small tables and padded chairs just outside. He found you there during one of your breaks yesterday, so he sits at one of the tables, hoping you'll come again.

A newspaper rests on the table before him, so he picks it up to pass the time. After reading through it twice, he moves to a different table with a chess set, his shadows engaging him in a game. After losing to them three times, he leans back with a sigh. He really should’ve brought some of his unfinished reports to work on.

Overcome with the bond, he had followed you without hesitation, not anticipating that Rhysand would keep him from telling you about it. He didn't have a plan, so while he wasn't happy about it, at least it gave him time to come up with one. The minute you’d go back to Night, Azriel was set on visiting your favorite restaurant and making reservations. He’d surprise you with a day full of your favorites, ending it with his confession, where he hoped you would accept him. 

It was one thing to love him back. Another to accept him as your mate.

Before he knows it, the sun begins to set, his shadows buzzing with life as darkness takes over. You still haven’t stepped out of the library. He wonders if you've eaten or had enough water. One of his shadows slips out from underneath the library doors and flutters back to him. It reports that the other shadow, still with you, helped you reach for books and turn pages. It had even wanted to brush your hair back when it fell loose from your tie but was met with an invisible force. High Lord, the shadow hissed and he realizes Rhysand knew him better than he thought. That unwanted chaperone…

When he learns you've skipped lunch, his worry deepens. He paces back and forth in front of the grand doors, his heart aching with the intensity of the bond. Every instinct within him urges him to protect and care for you. Unable to hold back any longer, he takes advantage of the darkening sky and slips into the library.

The shadow that had reported to him leads the way, darting ahead. His other shadows eagerly rush forward, reaching you before he does. They greet the lone shadow that had stayed by your side like long-lost friends reuniting.

Azriel’s heart calms when he finds you asleep, slumped over a desk and surrounded by a mountain of books. You're curled into yourself, goosebumps forming on the exposed skin of your arms. He gently removes his cloak from his leathers and drapes it over you.

You instinctively snuggle deeper into the cloak, half asleep. “Smells s’good,” you murmur, and the bond in his chest tightens.

He gently removes your glasses, the ones you wear when doing prolonged near work, and places them carefully into one of his pockets. There’s a faint glimmer surrounding you and he’s relieved that whatever barrier Rhyand had placed upon you was weakening by the second. Almost like clockwork. He easily breaks through the magic shield, blue siphons gleaming. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his shadows sighing in response.

His touch lingers on your face, thumb ghosting over your cheek.  “It’s time for dinner.”

You let out a groan in protest, not wanting to move from your spot.

“You need to eat, Y/n,” he whispers softly. “And then, you can go to bed.”

You blink sleepily at him. “Will you carry me?”

“Of course.”

As he lifts you into his arms, your warmth and the scent of your hair envelop him. The bond in his chest thrums with joy, his shadows harmonizing in response.

Three more days, he reminds himself. Three more days until he can finally speak of the feelings swelling in his heart. Be patient…

**

After another day of researching death gods, your mind feels heavy with overwhelming knowledge. Exhausted, you keep to yourself during dinner. You can feel Azriel’s worry, can feel the way the shadows that linger in your presence caress the back of your neck in an attempt to ease you. Rhysand slips into your mind and after assuring him you were just tired and had a headache, he lets you excuse yourself. Helion, ever the caring and doting High Lord, sends you off to bed with a tea to soothe your headache.

You’re quick to wash up and change into your nightgown, slipping under the warm covers with the tea Helion gave you in hand. It has a rich floral scent and as you take your first sip, it brings instant relief to the dull ache in your head. When you’re done, you place the empty cup onto your nightstand and lay down, closing your eyes.

You find yourself trapped in a dark, oppressive forest. 

The trees are twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands. In the distance, you hear the sinister laugh of Koschei, the death god who you've learned loves to trap women. His voice is a chilling whisper, echoing through the trees, “You cannot escape me.”

Suddenly, the scene shifts, and you’re back in the Court of Nightmares, having to suffer through another court affair. Your hair is pulled so tight into a bun and the corset of your dress barely gives any room to breathe properly. The oppressive atmosphere presses down on you, taking even more of your breath away. You’re standing before your father, his eyes cold and unyielding.

“You will marry Lord Berbrooke.”

“No,” you whisper, eyes widening in fear as Lord Berbrooke appears at your father’s side. Your hands reach for your father’s arms, a desperate attempt to stay with him instead of leaving. You’d much rather continue to endure a life of neglect and solitude than a life that promised violence and bruises.

“Grandfather wouldn’t want this.”

Your father yanks his arm out of your grip, staring you down with a glare. “Your grandfather is dead. It does not matter what he wants.”

Fear grips you as Lord Berbrooke steps closer, a predatory smile on his face. You try to run, but your feet are rooted to the spot. He laughs, the sound chilling you to the bone. It morphs into the sinister laugh from earlier. Lord Berbrooke’s face flickers and shifts, morphing between his own and what your mind imagines of Koschei.

Panic surges through you, and you cry out for help, but your voice is swallowed by the darkness.

You wake up in a cold sweat, heart racing and breaths coming in ragged gasps. Goosebumps prick your skin as the sinister laugh echoes in your mind, refusing to fade. Panic grips you, and without a second thought, you throw off the covers and rush out of your room, desperate to escape the haunting sound that seems to follow you.

**

Something deep in his chest stirs, flooding him with unease. The bond. Something is wrong. Azriel’s head instinctively turns to his door, shadows sensing your presence in the hallway. Though small and quiet, he can hear your pacing and sense your hesitation as you face his door.

Azriel rushes to the door immediately and opens it. Concern etches on his face as he takes in your trembling form, the way your hands are covering your ears and eyes stricken with pure fear.

His hands reach for yours, gently removing them from your ears. Your eyes remain frantic, scanning over him, as if trying to discern if he is real or not. Without another word, Azriel pulls you into his arms, the familiar warmth and scent of him grounding you.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he murmurs. His hands rub soothing circles on your back, and you cling to him.

“I had a nightmare,” you whisper, pulling back slightly and looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “About Koschei, and then I was back in the Court of Nightmares. My father… Lord Berbrooke…”

Azriel’s eyes darken with anger and protectiveness. You don’t need to say any more for him to understand. “You’re safe now,” he says firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His words and the strength of his embrace begin to calm the storm inside you. You bury your face in his chest, taking in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Can I stay with you?”

“Always.” Azriel answers and then he’s guiding you into his room.

He helps you to his bed, tucking you under the covers before carefully settling on the other side. You nestle closer into his chest, your head finding its place against his heart again. His chin rests atop your head and neither of you speak for a while.

“Thank you,” you breathe, voice heavy with emotion.

Azriel knows your thankfulness extends beyond tonight. He had been the one to save you from that dreadful fate that night in the Court of Nightmares. He had been the one to bring to Rhysand’s attention of your grandfather’s forged will, helping you search for the real one. And when Rhysand had moved you to Velaris, Azriel had been your first friend.

“Do you feel better or would you like me to make you–”

“I feel better,” you interrupt, not wanting him to leave, even if it's to make you another tea. “Just your presence is enough,” you confess quietly. “You have a way of making me feel safe and at peace, Az.”

At those words, Azriel feels like he might burst with emotion. He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.  If only you knew…

**

As you walk through the library of the Day Court, you take one last look around, letting your gaze sweep over the grand space. The high, arched windows allow streams of the setting sun to filter in, casting a warm glow on the polished marble floors. There are rows upon rows of polished wooden shelves and books of every size and color line them, their spines creating a mosaic of knowledge and history. The scent of parchment and old leather, is one you’ll always hold dear.

Tonight is your last night here. A trail of shadows follows you, blending into the shafts of the light and shadows cast by the towering bookshelves. Rhysand, lounging in the entrance of the library, notices the once unusual sight that has now become routine.. 

“What are you, a Shadowsinger now?” he quips.

You glance back, catching a glimpse of Azriel’s shadows entwined with your own. They’ve become increasingly protective of you lately, always trailing close, whether you're heading to the library or simply going about your day. What you hadn’t noticed until now was how their numbers had grown since last night.

“I’ve never seen his shadows act like that,” Rhysand comments.

“Oh really?” 

Rhysand nods, a glint dancing in his eyes. He gives a small wave to one of the tendrils peeking over your shoulder, lips curving upwards when it cowers away.  “They usually stick to him, rarely leaving his side. It seems you’ve captured their interest as you’ve captured their master’s.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his implication. “I guess they like me,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rhysand’s grin turns knowing. “It’s more than that, Y/n. Azriel’s shadows are an extension of his will. They’re drawn to what he cares about most.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “I suppose I should thank them for showing me such care.”

Rhysand chuckles. “Or thank Azriel.”

**

Rhysand’s words linger with you throughout the evening, much like Azriel’s shadows. A spark of hope blooms in your chest, daring to blossom into something more. You knew Azriel cared for you, but caring for others was in his nature. That’s who he was—caring and protective.

You glance at the shadows caressing your arms, a pensive frown tugging at your lips. In all the years you’ve known him, you had never seen his shadows linger on Rhysand or Cassian. Or Mor, who you were so sure held the Shadowsinger’s affections. 

You recall the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the rare smiles he reserved only for you, the protective glances he shot your way whenever danger was near. Your heart races as the pieces start to fit together, a mixture of shock and elation coursing through your veins. Dare you hope that the man you had loved in secret for so long might feel the same?

The idea seems almost too good to be true, and yet…his shadows were here, with you, wrapped around your fingers. Quite literally. 

You look down at the shadows twining with your fingers, a small, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. For the first time, you allow yourself to entertain the possibility. 

With this newfound hope, you head toward the Day Court’s kitchen. 

After praising the chef one night, he invited you to his kitchen, offering to teach you how to prepare some of the Day Court’s delicacies. Eager to express your gratitude to Azriel for always being there for you and to Helion for being a gracious host, you decide to finally take up on the chef’s offer. Perhaps, you can even sneak in some of Azriel’s favorites into tonight’s menu.

**

As it was the last night of your stay, Helion had invited close friends and other allies of his court, filling the grand dining hall with laughter and conversation. You quietly took your seat across from Rhysand and beside Azriel, murmuring a soft greeting. Helion winks at you and the shadow around your arm tenses.

The High Lord of Day stands from his seat, at the head of the table. He raises his glass with a broad grin. “A toast to the Night Court, our cherished guests. It has been an honor to host you all, and I sincerely hope we may have the pleasure of your return soon.”

Everyone at the table raises their glasses, including Azriel—though only after a nudge from you. His expression remains flat and dry as he lifts his glass. You clink yours against his with a teasing glint in your eyes, coaxing a small smile from his lips.

Helion takes a seat and with a wave of his hand, tonight’s feast materializes in front of you. There’s a slight raise in Rhysand’s brow, betraying his mild surprise. Every single platter–from the appetizers to dessert seems to be a perfect blend of Day and Night delicacies with the names to match. There’s the bruschetta, the bread slices topped with sun-ripened tomatoes, fresh basil and a hint of night garlic. Then, there’s the spinach artichoke dip made from sun-infused spinach, blended with moon-cheese and served with nightshade vegetables.

Rhysand looks up, turning to Helion. “Compliments to the chef.”

Helion’s eyes twinkle with delight as he meets your gaze.  “And y/n,” he says. “She collaborated with the chef to create tonight’s dinner.”

You smile, a touch of pride warming your cheeks as you look around the table. However, the smile quickly fades when you hear a sudden spluttering. It’s Azriel. He spit his food out, his face a mask of horror and conflict. 

“Azriel?” you ask in concern.

He stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’m not hungry,” he mutters, his voice suddenly tight.

Your face flushes and a nervous laugh escapes you.  “Relax, it’s not poison,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood. But your attempt falls flat. 

“I’m not hungry,” he repeats more forcefully, then turns and leaves the room, his movements stiff and tense.

Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears, the hurt and confusion overwhelming you. You slump back into your chair. “I don’t think I’m hungry either,” you whisper, the words barely audible.

Rhysand nudges your foot from under the table. “Don’t mind him,” he says softly, violet eyes filled with sympathy. “Please, eat. You’ve worked so hard on this.”

You nod, trying to muster the strength to lift your fork, but the sting of Azriel’s rejection is too much. You push the food around your plate, your appetite completely gone. The evening that had started with such promise now feels like a distant memory, overshadowed by whatever tension has now befallen between you and Azriel. 

In the corridor outside the dining hall, Azriel leans against the wall, his heart pounding. He knows he’s hurt you, but the thought of unintentionally accepting the bond is too much for him to bear. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The guilt gnaws at him, a constant reminder of the fragile line he’s been walking.

One more night, he reminds himself. One more night and then he can tell you everything.

He can only hope you don’t already hate him for tonight.

**

Tossing and turning, you let out a long breath as you stare up at the ceiling. Your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you hadn’t indulged in the dinner you had put so much effort into crafting. How could you, when the one person you made it for refused to have even a bite? 

His reaction had been as clear as day. Repulsed.

Now, doubts flood your mind. What if you've completely misread everything? The shadows beside you, initially a source of comfort, were beginning to stir unsettling thoughts in you. Maybe Azriel sent them not because he cared so deeply for you but out of obligation and pity?

You're not a High Lord like Rhysand, nor a warrior like Cassian or Mor who fought in the war. You’re just a noblewoman from the Court of Nightmares who fled from a forced marriage. How typical and utterly helpless. That’s what you’ve been since you met Azriel.  It shouldn’t have shocked you that he followed you into Day Court. 

Any hope that had blossomed in your heart now withers. You were a fool to even entertain the thought. You’ve known Azriel for almost a century and in those years, he’s never hinted at seeing you as anything more than a friend so why would it change now?

Throwing off the covers, you sit up abruptly, gaze flickering towards the door. The urge to confront him grips you fiercely. He did not have to return your feelings but he didn’t have to hurt your feelings so harshly by spitting out your food. You had to settle whatever this was now, even if it left you broken-hearted. 

Without bothering to change out of your nightwear, you leap from your bed. The shadows on your bed stir awake and your footsteps quicken, fearing his shadows would reach him before you could.

They beat you to it, even going as far as opening the door for you, allowing you to barge into his room. You’re not surprised to see Azriel wide awake. His shadows must’ve warned him beforehand. He sits on his bed, already facing you and you hate the way your gaze falls to his bare chest. Your eyes trail up the intricate tattoos etched there, slowly making your way up.

The words catch in your throat. You’re nervous. A foreign feeling around Azriel. It makes you want nothing more than to turn and run out the door. His shadows shut the door behind you as if sensing your thoughts.

You refuse to meet his eyes, fearing what you’d find in those hazel depths. “You hate me don’t you?”

The words tumble out unexpectedly, sending a chilling shiver through you. His gaze flickers downward, catching the way you nervously fidget with your fingers, before lifting with intent and searching for your eyes. 

“What?”

The sound that leaves Azriel borders on what sounds like amusement, and you cringe, turning your head away. Tears prick your eyes, his shadows rushing to wipe them away gently, coaxing your gaze back to their master. When his eyes meet yours, all you see is concern. 

A strange sensation creeps along your ribcage as he stands from the bed, stepping closer to you.

“I don’t hate you.” Azriel states firmly and when his words don’t soothe you as he expected they would, he frowns. His hands replace the shadows brushing against your face. “What makes you think that? What’s wrong?”

“I should be asking you that question,” you laugh humorlessly, casting your gaze down. “Something has gotten into you. You’ve been acting so differently, and at first, I thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought as I seem to be wrong every time–”

“It does matter. Tell me.” 

It’s now or never. Your throat tightens as you muster the courage—the last bit you have, having used most of it to barge into his room. 

“We’ve been walking a fine line, you and I. For decades. Almost a century... And now, I realize you’ve simply been too kind to reject me. I’m sorry if running to you after that nightmare was too much, but did you have to spit out my food? I would’ve preferred if you’d just told me you didn't like me instead of showing me.”

“You’re not making any sense right now.” Azriel says.

“Neither are you.” You shoot back.

“I don’t hate you,” Azriel repeats, hurt flashing across his face at the thought of making you feel that way.

“You spit out my food in front of everyone, Az.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

You feel Azriel’s hand tense against your face. “I can’t say.”

Your breath hitches, and you take a couple of steps back, removing his hands from you. “Because you hate me.”

Azriel’s eyes shut tightly for a moment, his head turning toward the window. He feels the faint warmth of the rising sun and inhales deeply. There’s something burning bright in his eyes when he looks at you again.

“Because you are my mate.”

Mate.

A vulnerable shakiness accompanies the word. The words hang in the air, heavy and shocking. The feeling teasing at your ribcage begins to crawl upwards. Your heart skips a beat as it meets your chest, awakening something deep inside you that you hadn’t realized you had.

Mate.

“I’m your what?” You gasp, your heart pounding in your chest as the golden threads of fate begin to unravel.

“You feel it now, don’t you?” Azriel approaches slowly, his expression tense and cautious. “You’re my mate. The bond snapped as you were winnowing away. That’s why I followed after you. I wanted to tell you, but Rhysand asked me not to. At least not until we were done here.”

Your racing heart sinks into your stomach. More tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision.  “So you don’t want me as your mate either…”

“No,” Azriel’s eyebrows knit together so hard you worry they’ll stick, shadows swirling around him like storm clouds. His hand reaches out for you but you take a step back.  “I’m happy it’s you. Relieved. I’ve loved you for so long...”

Your tears fall freely and he takes another deep breath, wings shuddering along with the timber of his voice. “Gods, do you know how agonizing these past days have been for me? Watching you fall in love with this court, with—” He hesitates, unable to say his name “—it’s High Lord.”

His words ignite a spark within you, fanning the hope that had begun to take root in your chest.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fall in love with this court," you begin and Azriel gives a subtle wince, looking away from you. "But Day is not my home."

Slowly, Azriel looks back at you, and a torrent of emotions floods over you. You're uncertain if they are yours or his, as the bond between you surges like a turbulent river.

“The Night Court is. That’s where my family is. That’s where you are. I wouldn’t trade that for anything. Not even Prythian’s best library.”

Azriel’s eyes soften and when he takes a step forward, you don’t step back. A glimmer of hope lights up his features.  “And what of it’s High Lord?”

“He’s nice but he’s not you.” You say with a soft smile. “I love you and only you.”

Azriel cups your face in his hands, leaning his forehead against yours. The smile that breaks out on his rivals the brilliance of the rising run behind him. “I’ve admired you, desired you for so long…I just didn’t want to rush you and when the bond snapped, I feared it’d overwhelm you."

You look up at him, the raw honesty in his eyes reflecting your own emotions. “So, what now?”

Azriel brushes the last tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and reverent. “Be mine?”

A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

“Always.”

And then you kiss him, the bond between you shimmering and glittering. A tangible, golden connection intensifying with every heartbeat.

a/n: I don't like the way I ended this 😭 not my best tbh, I just feel like it was missing something. I honestly wasn't expecting the high demand for a part two to Be Safe so I hope you enjoyed some of this as much as the first part. Anyway, here's a little meme I had made for this fic while I was procrastinating on finishing it.

here's a bonus scene.

tag list (tagged all those who commented and reblogged with tags, in case you wanted to read more. sorry if I missed some!): @jswizzlewrites , @hellodarling1357, @fxckmiup, @pricklepearbloom,

@tothestarsandwhateverend, @mika-no-sekai-blog, @cherryjain17, @illyrian-dreamer,

@darlingbravebelle, @katherinejess, @lady-of-tearshed, @daisesarelove, @beardburnsupersoldiers

@assriels, @sunshinepeachx, @buckyandgeraltsupremacy

@brieflyclassymortal, @thesunloveschips, @silver-flames-47, @ladybirdbeetle7, @everythingacotarbxm1012

@starlitlakes, @mxtantrights, @itsallacotar, @mother-above, @andreperez11

@coolepowersthings, @littlebookbengal, @lipstickmarks, @aneekapaneeka, @harrypottergirl162

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria

@the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human

[bunnis-monsters]

OK SO- I fou d you from your werebunny post which-

BTW

Was really good?? I- it made me feel things- If possible, more werebunny crumbs please? It could go either sfw or nsfw, I don't mind! (Or both but its up to you!)

NSFW

It’s always fun watching his cotton tail wag with excitement when you’re near. He has the cutest pink nose, soft bunny ears and a fluffy tail that goes crazy with every kiss and touch.

Momo, your pretty bunny, really enjoyed having you near. His heart would explode with joy every time you kissed him, his bunny ears flicking as his nose twitched.

“Mmph… love~”

He couldn’t stand being apart from you, living in separate homes just wasn’t an option. He set up a nest in your room within weeks of your first meeting, unable to be away from you for more than a few minutes.

Lately, he had been extra clingy, and very possessive, which was uncharacteristic for him. Usually he was pretty submissive and sweet, almost like a lap pet that wanted all of your attention… but now he was more like a guard dog, constantly on alert, his body always subtly in front of yours.

It was only when you woke up to him humping your leg, his face buried in your neck that you realized what was going on.

He was in some kind of heat or rut… whatever it was, it was making him cling to you, desperate to mate and keep you safe.

All he wanted was to be close to you. The first stage of his rut had him making a cozy little nest in your bed, then spending all his his time snuggling you, his cute fluffy tail wagging furiously as he pulled you in for more kisses and nibbles.

The next stage… you weren’t ready for. You had sec with Momo before, but this was his rut. He was insatiable, fucking into your cunt fast and hard, unlike to gentle, sweet love making you usually experienced.

And his stamina was way too high, one breeding session lasting nearly 5 hours. Every time he came, he bit down on your shoulder or neck, his hips fitting against you as he begged for your forgiveness.

“Sorry, so sorry… just need it so bad, angel! Need to… g-give you my litter!”

After each session, he ignored his own exhaustion and pampered you, purring and bathing you, letting your head rest on his chest as his cotton tail wagged. Momo felt terrible, breeding you for so long… but he just couldn’t help it! His rut made him so horny, and he could only focus on filling you with cum and impregnating you!

But he adored you so, making sure you were treated like a princess once your baby bump began to show. Momo was so proud, not able to keep his hands off of your belly.

“My princess… gonna be a good mommy, the best…”

[mx-monster]

Thinking horny thoughts about Minotaurs so here’s a lazy Drabble

Cw: m/f, breeding kink

Male!minotaur god of agricultural x Female!human offering

your villages crops are failing. If it continues there won’t be enough to store for winter. In the face of a grueling winter and the real possibility of starvation, the villagers turn to the god of agriculture. They choose you as the offering. They lathering you in sweet smelling oils and dress you in the finest scarlet dress the village possesses. Gold necklaces are clasped around your neck, silver bracelets slipped onto your wrists. A crown of wildflowers rested on your brow.

You’re paraded through the village while neighbors, family, and friends gather on the streets chanting prayers and singing hymns to catch the God’s attention.

You’re left standing alone in a barren field One of the many your village had tried and failed to cultivate. The light of the full moon bathing you in its silvery light.

It doesn’t take long before He’s towering over you. He was magnificent.

“Do you know what this ritual entails?”

What do you say to a God? How do you say it? So you don’t answer. At least, not with words. Without looking away from the God before you, you lower yourself to the ground. Dress pooled around your waist, you spread your thighs and bear your sex to His hungry eyes.

He spends hours between your legs. Alternating between opening you up on his thick fingers and dragging his large, hot tongue along the seam of your cunt. He pushes you to the edge of ecstasy, only to reel you back in.

Your thighs are slick with the proof of your need. You feel wetness steadily leak from your cunt onto your ass. He slides his hips in between your thighs, the blunt head of his cock teasing your slick entrance.

“You’re ready. Know that if we do this I will spill inside. My seed will take and you will become pregnant. Do you understand?”

You nod. God, you understood. You wanted it more than you wanted anything else.

“Say it.”

“I want it, please. I-I need it. I need it so bad,” you sobbed, frustrated tears streaming down your cheeks. He had spent so long teasing you, you’d absolutely die without release. You nearly screamed in relief when He began slowly fucking into you. He was so thick. Even with all the preparation you felt every inch of Him splitting you open.

“Such a greedy cunt you have,” He grunted, “taking me so well. Begging for my cock so prettily. I’ll give it to you. Give you anything. Everything.”

It doesn’t take long before you felt an orgasm rip it’s way through you. Your vision blacks out as a wrecked scream tore from your throat. You felt his cock pulse, spilling hot seed into your starved cunt.

When you finally came back to your body you noticed that the once barren field was now filled with healthy vegetation.

“Your village will one day be the capital of a mighty and prosperous kingdom. Our children’s children will sit at it’s head and one day pass their crown to the heads of their children. But that is a conversation for later,” he pulled you close, enveloping you in a strong embrace, “now, we rest.”

[yanderedrabbles]

Letters from a Yandere Vampire

December 7th, 1886

Dear y/n,

Please do not think me presumptuous for writing to you so soon, but my heart would give me no rest. I have been unable to stop thinking of you since our encounter at the Duke's soiree.

Perhaps it is my countenance or perhaps my foreign heritage, but London's débutantes seem to find me positively frightful. I had resigned myself to yet another evening of disappointment when you introduced yourself to me.

In all my travels, I have met few ladies with your boldness of spirit. You transformed my dour evening into one of unimaginable enjoyment.

I have included with my letter some pressed flowers from my native Transylvania. You expressed much interest in the botany of my homeland and I hope these will intrigue you.

Your interest in my travels is remarkably flattering. And, if I may be so bold, may I invite you to a dinner at my salon? I have much still to share.

Yours sincerely,

Count Nicolae Drăculești

December 17th, 1886

My dearest y/n,

How I enjoyed our evening together! When we danced, I felt my soul set afire. In my travels, none have so captivated me.

Do not think me hasty, but I have sent my messenger with a gift. I can think of no better place for these jewels than around your neck. Please, accept them with my most sincere compliments.

You amused me very much when you pointed out my teeth. My fangs are indeed much longer and sharper than a normal man's. Perhaps you wish to feel their sharpness against your skin?

The nights grow longer and colder. Do you dislike the winter darkness, I wonder. Or do you only long for someone to share it with, as I do?

Ah, forgive my rambling! I'm writing to ask if you will allow me the privilege of escorting you to the Yuletide ball? I can think of no finer gift to celebrate Christmas.

I must soon depart for my home and I insist on spending more time together before then.

Yours,

Nicolae Drăculești

December 25th, 1886

My love,

Merry Christmas! I walked through the untouched snow and even London seemed beautiful and pure.

In this cold, I can think of nothing but having you with me. A day without you is an eternity past.

It seems I have been waiting for you for centuries. Is it to bold to say you are the woman of my dreams? Forgive this fool his insolence, but when I write to you I feel possessed.

You have asked me at length about my aversion to the Church and silver. You are such a logical creature but there are some things beyond the realm of science.

Seek to know no more, for both our sakes.

Another matter has been bothering me of late. I have noticed Lord Lancaster has expressed an interest in you.

The man fawns over you like a slobering hound. As your companion, it is my duty to advise against him. He is unworthy of your attention, much less your sympathy. 

Surely you see that it is you and I that are the more compatible match?

Ever yours,

Nicușor

January 1st, 1887

Dear,

I wished to keep you ignorant of my nature. And yet, you have seen me unmasked. A creature of the night.

It was your blood that did it. A single drop was all it took for my instinct to take over.

I hope you are unhurt. If I were in my right mind, I never would have pinned you against the wall as I did. I never would have forced my kiss upon you.

I could hear your heart racing when I showed you my fangs. Why did you not scream?

Did I fighten you into silence? Or was it something else?

You asked me what you are to me and at the time I had no answer to give. Are you my prey? My meal?

I have spent all night in thought and still I fear uttering these words.

You are my beloved.

My heart belongs entirely to you, wretched and sinful though it may be. No blood is sweeter than yours.

I burn for you, my darling.

I grow agitated at each day that passes when we are not together. My treacherous mind plays such awful tricks on me. Surely you have not cast me aside for another? Or worse, have I frightened you beyond redemption?

Oh, banish the thought! Who has your affection? Your love?

Please, put my poor heart at ease. Meet me in the gazebo at the end of your garden after sunset.

I cannot bear to be parted from you much longer.

Ever your slave,

Nicușor

y/n,

My castle must be prepared for your arrival and I have set forth with great haste to do so. In case you awake before my return, I've left you this letter.

You are currently on board a private train car bound for Transylvania. Do not attempt to leave. My guards have strict orders to ensure you reach home.

You are changed, my dear.

I have bitten you and transformed you into a creature like myself. Upon our final meeting, I intended only to say goodbye. You are too fine and beautiful a creature to be wasted on the likes of me.

But when I saw you in the moonlight, I could not help myself.

You are so beautiful. So bright and lively. You are what my cold halls have lacked all these many years.

My love, I drank your blood. Every drop of it. Nothing in my centuries of existence has ever tasted so sweet, so right.

It can be frightening, I know. But do not despair.

The light of the sun will forever be out of reach, but there are a thousand traits you've gained. Strength. Speed. Immortality.

The grave will never taste your flesh, old age will never hound at your door.

As I am the one who changed you, I am also your Lord and Master. The bond between us is forged in blood. Wherever I go, you must always follow. If I am to die, so shall you. If I am to command, you must obey.

It is a tight leash and not one of my devising, I assure you.

I intend to be your partner and not your Lord. So for both our sakes, my love, do not give me cause to use that power.

You and I have all eternity together. Does it please you as it does me?

I have longed for a bride for centuries. You cannot imagine the loneliness. And in all those years, none have impressed themselves upon my heart as you have.

I have stolen you from the sunshine and into my world of night and blood. I have ripped away any hope of heaven and salvation. No God now, no church or altar.

I am a rogue and a thief and still I beg of you. Please love, do not hate me.

I've made you into my vampire bride.

Your husband,

Nicușor Drăculești

[cherryheairt]

Hidden Truths pt.2

Cregan x wife!reader

named reader no description, from house Glover

masterlist

part 1

thank y'all so much for the kind words and eagerness to see this part. Please forgive me for not replying to all asks being sent to inbox, you'll understand with the chap lol. The pressure was so real I had planned to write other things between pt 1 and 2 but I dropped everything to do this between work and sleep lol

changed the og ending because so many people thought it would be more fitting and I agreed lol

anon pointed out my mistake on glover and bolton im so sorry for that confusion yall it is meant to be glover originally. i made too many mistakes im a mess rn

Ernest makes it to Cregan's solar first, Ron not far on his heels. Panting, the younger speaks up first when Cregan Stark shoots them a bewildered look whilst hunched over his oak desk.

"Was Lady Stark due for some business today, My Lord?" He asked, catching his breath as Cregan sat up in his seat, attention fully on the guards.

"Not any that I'm aware of. Where is my wife?" He asked, glancing outside of his small window to the blistering storm outside. There was no way she would be anywhere except her chambers—not after he caught her soothing Brandon to sleep. The sight had melted his heart immediately, glad to see his wife finally finding it in her to go see him, to give him a chance.

Though, he could not blame her, of course. He could still remember the day he brought the Stark babe home, and how he dreaded the meet throughout his months of journeying home to Winterfell.

Aelys had been on the forefront of his mind, even through the slimy politicking of King's Landing. The wait was only made ever longer by the fact that the party Cregan traveled North with had to wait until Brandon was old enough to travel, too. Moons went by painstakingly slow, and Cregan moved to load the carriage for the boy as soon as the Maester gave his word that Bran would not be suseptible to the outdoors during long durations on the road.

Cregan dismounted his grey mare, patting her on the neck in thanks before the stable boy guided her back to her designated place. With a tense sigh, he rolled his shoulders and opened the carriage door that held Brandon and his new wet nurse. Sara, his older sister, would join the family in a few short weeks while she continued her stay at the Blackwood's. He wished she was here to console his wife in the coming days. Gods know that he cannot, not when the news of his betrayal had to come from his own mouth. As he promised himself it should be. The sinner should say his own penance, no one else. A Stark is a slave to his oaths.

Thanking Greya kindly, Cregan picked up Bran in his arms. His onyx black curls shifted against the crook of his arm as he shifted the babe to be held better. The four moon-old babe fussed as he was removed from the woman's comforting hold. As if was, Cregan was more of a stranger to the young babe than his wet nurse was. Unfortunately, the Lord had not spent the amount of time with him as he knew he should have. The thoughts and guilt racked up in his mind and burned at the back of his throat every day, leaving Cregan to promise himself that in Winterfell he would spend more time with him.

Another promise for the list.

Cregan stepped through the courtyard's archway, holding his breath as he watched his beautiful wife standing by the Keep's doors, shivering but still insisting that she come out to meet her husband. Her smile was as lovely and bright as he remembered, a much more contented and relieved smile than she had sent him off to battle with. That day, she could hardly stifle her tears back as she hugged him 'goodbye'. He felt quite the same. Cregan would never leave for Southern business again, not in his lifetime. Once had been enough to last generations, though he was sure the Stark family would not go too long before being summoned again.

Her face shifted from joy to confusion in a matter of seconds. As Cregan continued straight towards her, Bran bundled up in so many wools and pelts that it entirely engulfed the babe. She lifted her skirts to step down to meet him. Originally, Cregan had wished to scoop her up in his arms and place a sweet kiss on her cold lips, but the bundle between them prevented such things. He could not greet her so sweetly and then present the bastard to her. Ripping the bandage off a fresh wound, Cregan would not be deceitful for longer than he had been during his moons of silence in the South.

"Husband," She smiled, reaching out to touch his chilled face, pink in the cheeks and ears from exposure. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." She was antsy on her feet, eager to get inside to proper reunite with her husband, no bystanders gawking.

Speaking of bystanders—Cregan's entire party had separated and dispersed around the courtyard. They met their own wives, parents, or children as they laughed and conversed. Though, the loud and joyous clamor soon died down when whispers had been spread around by those who already knew of Cregan's boy. Wives that knew Aelys well stared in pity, clutching their shawls to their chests and shaking their heads quietly at their Lord.

He fought the urge to hang his head.

She had not yet seen the babe, only the cloth surrounding him.

"Cregan?" She whispered, tilting her head with concerned eyes. "What is wrong?" His sweet, sweet wife. Her first priority had been him over anything since the days of their honeymoon—the days she had confessed to be extremely anxious about during their courtship. She was a Northern woman herself, hardened and shaped like an ice sculpture but retaining her warm heart and spirit. Cregan had intimidated her greatly, according to her giggling confession, and she had feared he may be a cruel and selfish man since he could easily do as he wished to his Lady wife. He proved her wrong, apparently, getting to know his wife throughout their private honeymoon. They had a bond like no other, always at each other's side and filling in for the weaknesses of the other during their duties as leaders.

Cregan's brow furrowed deep, blinking away as he felt his nose start to sting.

Only then, when his glossy eyes met hers silently, did she glance down to the cloths. Slowly reaching up a shaky, gloved hand adjusted the pelts so she could peer past them. Gasping at the pale babe, Aelys' eyes sharply met his. A million thoughts raced through her head, clearly showing in her facial expressions. Not assuming the worst, as she probably should have done, Aelys asked, "has one of your men died? Is this babe an orphan?" Always so trusting of her Lord husband, something Cregan had admired and was eternally grateful for throughout their marriage.

"Aelys..." He cleared his throat when his voice came out much too quiet and hoarse. "This is my son." He declared to her, and to the onlooking crowd who did not bother hiding scandalized gasps.

Her eyes blinked in rapid succession, shaking her head lightly and smiling. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son."

His silence met her words. When he did not cave and admit to messing with his wife, Aelys shook her head more firmly. "No." She said, whispering. Her eyes clamped shut as she breathed in and out deeply, only opening to glance down at the babe, scrutinizing its appearing and comparing every freckle to Cregan's. "Don't do this to me, please. You would never do this to me." Her words were nearly lost to the air.

"It was one time, I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan told her.

"On your name?" She harshly bit, stepping away from Cregan as if he had burned her. "Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods. Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—" She gasped out, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and clutching her stomach. A choking sob rippled through her, and Greya stepped forward to gingerly take Brandon from Cregan's grasp. His arms fell to his side, clenching as he stopped himself from holding his wife in comfort. She could find no solace in the man who hurt her so.

"I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too. Was it just not me you wanted a family with?" She asked, cranking her neck up to look at her shameful husband.

"Aelys, I did—I do!" He started, stepping forward to wipe a hot tear from her cheek.

Flinching away from his touch, she looked up at him with the same mistrust and solemn acceptance that he found in a dying prey's eyes. Suddenly, Aelys looked to become aware of the crowd. Glancing around self-consciously, she straightened herself upright like the people expected of a Lady Stark. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." She loudly adressed the weary party and their families, who awkwardly moved to shuffle inside the dining hall. With a final glance past Cregan's shoulder to the wet nurse, Aelys was gone.

Seeing the shared glances of horror between the two, Cregan cleared his throat. "Where is my wife, boys?"

Ernest swallowed harshly, not daring to look him in the eye. "She—she said that she 'ad business in Winter Town. That you approved of it, I swear!"

Ron nodded so quickly that his head of curls messed about and framed his face further. The snow still on their heads and shoulders had now melted in the warmth of the Great Keep, reminding Cregan of the harsh weather the guards had to bear all day. They were trained and honed for such conditions, Aelys was not.

"Yes, Lord Stark! We couldn't disobey our Lady's words." He insisted.

"You think I'd make my wife go settle business in Winter Town during a blizzard?" He growled out, standing from his seat and storming between them to his doorway, where he turned on them and saw them both flinch in shock. "Which way did she go?"

"Uhm..." they shared another glance. "She said Winter Town, Lord Stark. What other way would she have gone?"

Cursing, Cregan grabbed Ice and lifted the great sword to his shoulder. He left without another word to anybody, knowing every second counted when it came to finding her. "Bloody fools." He scoffed to himself, mind turning and thinking of places she might head to.

Clearly, not Winter Town. She had no business there, not that he knew of, and although they had not been speaking these past moons he still oversaw all of her duties as Lady. Though, her reports of dealings and responsibilities was done through the Maester rather than her own mouth. A middleman, the poor elder had become. Cregan endured the silence without complaint, knowing his own actions brought it upon him.

His actions brought her further away from him than he perhaps estimated. He knew the babe would tear a rift in their relationship, and knew it would take a long time before they could even begin to mend it—but he never wanted it to go this far.

Back to her childhood home, to the Glovers in the Motte? Or, perhaps she found a secret lover that would meet her in the storm like a destined and tragic fairytale. He would not blame her for seeking love in another, though his never faded.

His quickened pace was only interrupted by Sara. "What is the rush for, brother?" The elder woman asked, dark brows furrowed with concern. Other the past four moons she had gained her strength back, looking the picture of health now that she was back home and recovering. Cregan could barely meet her gaze, looking between her and the doors ahead.

"My wife is gone." He told her honestly, shifting impaitiently in place. "I don't know where to, but I'm going to search for her."

Sara's dark eyes saddened, face scrunching up in grief. "This is my fault. I should have—"

Cregan stopped her immediately, taking her firmly by the shoulders and dipping his neck down to level himself. "No. It is mine alone. I made the choice to do this, I shall face the consequences of my actions."

"Cregan..." she sniffed, but did not allow tears to fall so easily.

"I'll be back." He promised. "With my wife."

Was she running away?

Cregan swung open the Great Keep's door, blinking staggardly at the wind gust that slammed into him. Not bothing to close it behind him, Cregan stormed to the stables and tacked his horse up. In a matter of minutes he was off and out of Winterfell's expansive walls.

His only option was to head towards Glover territory. It was a two days ride normally, but the storm would make it double or perhaps longer. She would not be far ahead, not even two hours ahead of Cregan and unknowing of how close he might be on her trail.

There were not even hoofprints left in her wake. The snow immediately covered all tracks and left only pristine fields of white powdery frost.

He would not know where she was until he spotted her amongst the white. Cobalt, her black stallion, was sure to stand out within close enough distance.

Until he did see her, he could only wait.

And it was exactly that; a waiting game. Cregan took only three days to reach the Deepwood Motte, faster than he anticipated. He was weary and exhausted, but still pumping with adrenaline and awake off sheer will. Here, in the safe walls of Harriston Glover's keep, his mare could finally have more than a few measly hours of rest, as well as food and water.

His fingers and toes burned with the edges of frostbite. Even in his thick protective gear, he was not entirely safe. The few, small fires that he built for himself in the cold nights gave him only a semblance of warmth. Each step felt like five as his vision blurred and weaned in and out. He steadied himself on a pole, waiting for his father-in-law to come downstairs to greet him. And, if luck be on his side, his Lady wife.

He owed more than an apology.

Harriston was a stern man, though not unreasonable. He loved his children and ensured they had only the best; education, caretakers, spouses. His eldest two children married long before Aelys was even of age to be wed, both men marrying Northern girls that they'd grown up with. When it came to his youngest and only girl, the man knew Lord Stark would be a most auspicious match. The Houses had long been friends and allies, and keeping the tradition of partnership thriving through marriage was no strange thing. He'd been even happier when Aelys wrote to him weekly, describing how enchanted she had been with her new husband and thanking him profusely for giving her a blessed match.

Now, the greyed man stood in front of Cregan with a deepset frown and a fierce look in his eyes. "Lord Stark. I thought you'd be busy in Winterfell."

Cregan cleared his throat, focusing on him intently. It made sense that the man was cross with him, especially after he assumed that Aelys had sent him a few lengthy letters telling of Cregan's infidelity. "I came to see my wife, and to bring her back home."

Harriston huffed a sarcastic laugh. "You send her back home, only to come yourself first?" He gestured around with his arms up.

Cregan tensed, "first? Is Aelys not already here?"

Lord Glover matched in his seriousness. "Aelys wrote to me three days ago, informing me that you had sent her here to be away from danger."

"I did not send her anywhere."

"You mean you do not know where my daughter is?" He asked, voice low and firm as he stepped closer. Though Harriston was a fine swordsman and a battle-worn fighter, Cregan did not fear the Lord's wrath, for he could easily best him in combat.

He did, however, have the brains to fear a furious father's vengeance.

His heart nearly beat out of his chest. "And she stated that she was on her way here?"

"I think I know what she said, boy." Lord Glover hissed. "Where is Aelys?"

"She must still be out there," Cregan murmured breathlessly, turning on his heel and running out of the fort's doors and back out to the stables. Cobalt was in none of them, confirmed to him that Lord Glover was not simply lying and hiding his wife away from him.

Cregan decided to take another horse—one well rested and ready to travel in the packed snow, unlike his own weary mare. Guiding it to the doors where Lord Glover had exited and looked at Cregan with a fear unlike the learned man usually expressed, he asked: Where are the kennels?"

When Aelys left to brave the storm alone, she had not anticipated the sheer unforgivable nature of it. Living in the North her whole life, she'd long grown used to cold weather and hunting for herself. Hunts often lasted days or weeks, being times of comraderie and companionship when out in the wilderness with your people. She had not been hunting in years, much less alone.

The snow had slowed her travel significantly and clouded her navigational judgment. North became South, and East became West after so long of walking. With the skies so darkened, it was even harder to tell the time of day. With every stop she made and every fire that burnt out too quickly for her to be fully warm, Aelys had grown desperate.

She found shelter in a half-conscious act to preserve her on life. Now, curled up with only her fur-lined dress and the pelt she had brought from Winterfell, she could not help but begin to accept that she would die in this cave.

Aelys thought of her life in a few curt thoughts.

She had only lived twenty and two years. She grew up with loving parents and two elder brothers who doted on her greatly. She married Lord Stark of Winterfell, someone who took her heart quicker than she'd ever thought possible. She would die here, alone and cold because of him.

She thought of all the things she had wanted from life. Not much, for a Lord's daughter. Aelys had always wanted love and gave love in return. Trusted perhaps too much and did not gain from it. She wished for children, eventually, and could never have them now. She wished to see the warm deserts of Dorne and the lush gardens of Old Town in her retirement.

Aelys Bolton would not see anything but the North, nothing but the cold snow and frost-tippes trees around. They had grown familiar and warm.

Warm.

She was so warm, now.

Aelys closed her eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of better days.

"You do not wish to return home to a babe in the nursery?" Aelys asked, voice low and humming as Cregan lay beneath her on their shared bed. Most men did, misliking the process of pregnacy but loving the outcome, for it could only serve to benefit them.

"We will have plenty of time for babes when I come back to you." He replied, brushing his lips over her the crown of her head. "What kind of husband would I be if I left you to deal with the struggles of pregnancy and birth all alone?"

"I won't be alone. Sara is staying, too. I will have a sister to keep me company and complain all my grievances about my missing husband to her." She said amusedly.

Cregan paused in his rhythmic stoking of her spine. "Sara has asked to come, my heart."

She paused, too, lifting her head from his chest and squinting at him. "Sara can come down to King's Landing with you, but I cannot?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "She will be staying at the Blackwood's residence at Raventree Hall, not King's Landing. I would never endanger either of you by bringing you to the capitol. She has been offered guest housing by her friend, Alysanne Blackwood, during my time down there."

She huffed, conceding to his words and dropping her head back down, listening again to his ever-steady heartbeat. "Must be nice to see the Riverlands." She said lightly. "I hear they have fields of flowers growing year-round."

"And the permanent smell of fish and mildew." Cregan added with a snort. "You're not missing anything, I swear it to you. Sara and I will be gone for a short period of time. I intend to leave as soon as things are settled and put to rest."

Aelys hummed her quiet acknowledgment. There was no argument to be had, not when Cregan was set to leave in the morning. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." She said cheekily, though there was plenty truth to the statement. Alone, she would serve as political head to Winterfell and the temporary 'Warden' while Cregan was missing in action. She had her advisors, consisting of Cregan's trusted councilmen, but the hole that she knew would sink itself into her heart already wore her into her.

Cregan laughed at her words, nodding. "Aye, my love, you will do perfectly. I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I have no doubt you'll do great." He said proudly, kissing her nose. She scrunched it up at the ticklish feeling, allowing a girlish giggle to leave her throat.

"Don't be gone too long, husband. Your wife needs you here." She said, tilting her head up to meet his lips.

"I would never dream of it."

The moons passed by with no reprieve for Aelys. As Winterfell's sole head, her days were busy from dawn til dusk. Letters were exchanged sporadically with her husband while he helped Aegon iii ascend to his place on the iron throne.

Until, one day, his letters ceased. It had already been a full year without Cregan Stark, and Aelys was beginning to grow used to the lack of her husband and sister by her side. Routine had grown to be instinct for her, breezing through her duties like she'd done them all her life. The only thing missing was her lover.

Concerned, Aelys checked in with the resident Maester to ensure Cregan's wellbeing.

When he paused, lips pursed and hands clutching at his cane with a stress unlike the calm elder, he rasped out his own fears. "I, too, have received no word from Lord Stark. Though, no news has come of us death in the capitol, so he must simply be occupied."

Occupied at the end of the war? When Aegon had already been named King and all the men put to trial were either declared guilty or innocent? The brunt of the work was over and done with—told by Cregan himself.

So why was he silent for an entire moon?

It was another fortnite before the Stark wrote back to her. The letter was curt and brief.

My dearest Aelys,

Forgive my abrupt silence these past weeks. Please know that you have been on my mind throughout this entire time.

Sara has grown sick in Raventree Hall, and has not been able to travel with the host of men I have sent back home to the North. We will stay behind for another few moons while she is in recovery. I will return to you soon.

With love,

Cregan Stark.

It was shorter than his other letters by many paragraphs, pages even. Cregan left out no details when describing his miserable times in the capitol. Aelys found herself much enjoying his theatrical melodramatic retelling and was rendered bemused by this letter. Still, she continued to lead with no pause for breaks.

Three more moons later, and Cregan wrote that he was mere days away from Winterfell. Without Sara Snow, unfortunately, as she was still not entirely recovered, but his party could be postponed no longer.

Aelys rushed around Winterfell's Keep in a flurry of excitement. She ordered every room to be cleaned spotless, for rations to be saved for days until a feast could be made for their arrival, for hearths to be extra tended to, and for the courtyard to be prepared to clear the way for the host.

Finally, the days of busy bodies floating around the Great Keep came to a stop. The feast was warm and ready at all available tables. The hearths were warm and ready for sleepy heads to rest within the rooms. The tubs were filled with scalding hot water that would warm by the time they were used. Lady Stark stood for hours at the Great Keep's entry stairs in the courtyard.

She wanted to be there exactly when he walked through the archway. Despite the cold biting at her nose, the Lady stood resiliant and tall.

It was nearly in the afternoon when Cregan's party arrived. He came through first, leading as head of the host as any Lord should. A wheelhouse followed, surrounded by a small league of soliders all around it. She bounced on her heels slightly, seeing Cregan dismount from his ride. Though she found herself bemused and slightly hurt when he glanced at her and made his way towards the wheelhouse instead. Had Sara recovered enough to join and perhaps wanted to surprise her good sister? She hoped so, for she had missed her greatly. After growing up with only brothers, Aelys found a best friend and sister in Sara Snow. The whispers about Lady Stark befriending the bastard of Winterfell followed her around like a dark shadow, but she never paid them any mind.

Bastardry had never bothered Aelys before. Not even when she was a woman of noble birth and was taught that bastards were born inherently lustful, evil, and made of sin.

She waited patiently at the top of the steps for Cregan to fetch Sara.

To her surprise, he only pulled out of the carriage with a bundle of clothes in his arms. Pelts and blankets, it seemed. A plainly-dressed woman from the South stepped out after him but stayed trailing behind. A maid of some sort, though she had no clue as to why a Southern maid would need to follow Cregan back to Winterfell.

As he strided towards her, a strange and unhappy look on his face, she forced her anxiety back down her throat and raced to meet him. "Husband," she greeted with a smile. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." Reaching out to caress his face and simultaneously brush flecks of snow from his loose hair, she couldn't help but stop to admire her husband's handsome features. It had felt like an eternity that they were separated, and she had begun to forget the full details of his frame. Forgot his scent in the room and his side of the bed. Nearly forgot the warmth that he provided simply from standing nearby.

The very warmth he is giving to her now, in the chilly courtyard.

His eyes appeared to gloss, his nose and cheeks pinking even more so than they had already grown in the biting air. Glancing over Cregan, she assessed quickly for signs of fatigue or illness.

"Cregan?" she asked gently. "What is wrong?" She prayed he did not catch whatever Sara had caught, or hid a wound under his mass of leathers and pelts.

When he shiftly lifted the bundle in his arms to gesture for her to look at it, she finally spared a look to the mysterious ball of cloth. She had completely forgotten about it until now, noticing the maid still behind Cregan a few yards back, head tilted down and looking at her slippers. Peeking over a fur pelt, Aelys gasped at the sight. A babe, only a few moons old by the looks of it. Her mind raced with possibilities. Why would Cregan bring a babe back instead of leaving it in more temperate climates like the Riverlands that he stayed in on the way up North?

"Has one of your men died?" She asked in a hushed tone, assuming first that one of his soldiers perhaps fathered a bastard babe before perishing in a battle or falling to sickness. "Is the babe an orphan?" Cregan did always have a soft spot for younglings, showcased clearly by his time spent personally training young squires of Winterfell. He had lost his own younger brother in their youth, and the hole had never filled from that loss of kin.

"Aelys..." he started, meeting her eyes with a soft and sympathetic look. "This is my son." Was said loud and clear for any listeners to hear.

A jest. Cregan had seldom liked to be humorous in front of crowds, or anyone but herself and Sara, but he must have been in good spirits today. Briefly glancing at the surrounding people, she found only pitiful looks from the women and severe looks from the men. Shaking her head, Aelys forced a smile onto her face and a shaky laugh. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son." She emphasized.

He only stared at her back. No words of comfort, no sudden burst of laughter among his men to tell her that the biggest prank in the world had been pulled on her. Just shameless silence.

He had declared her second best in front of all of Winterfell. Her people and his.

"No." She said firmly, shaking her head 'no'. She breathed in and out deeply, trying to clear her blurry eyes and woozy head. Glaring down at the false babe in his arms, she found many similarities that she wished she had not. The same straight brows that Cregan had, the same scattered freckles, the same pale skin. The only difference was the hair color—black as a midnight sky or dragonglass. The mother must be beautiful.

Moving her eyes to the maid behind Cregan, she found that the girl had a mousy blonde color to her tresses. She could not have possibly bore a black-haired babe. She felt sick, like she'd throw up and choke at the same time. "Don't do this to me. You'd never do this to me." She pleaded out, voice small and hoarse.

"It was one time. I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan promised. But every word was like poison, filling her heart with a heavy black liquid and drowning her from the inside out.

"On your name?" She hissed out, uncaring of the onlookers for this one moment. She was allowed to be angry, callous, and spiteful, even. Any self-respecting woman would be. And she'd be damned if she wasn't. Any Stark woman ought to be when ruling over the entire North. Any Glover woman is.

"Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods! Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—?" Words spilled from her mouth before she can think properly. But she did not regret any of them, knowing she was in the right. Bile rose in her throat, pushing itself past the forced down emotions. She swiftly covered her mouth, stilling herself to prevent any more embarrassing. Subconsciously, she clutched at her empty stomach with her free hand, both mourning the fact that she'd have no children and thanking the Gods for not giving her any previously. A cry finally escaped her lips, watching the plain maid take the babe into her arms again as Cregan looked on helplessly to his wife.

Aelys found her voice again, though it was ragged and tired. "I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too." He was a liar, the worst kind of man. "Was it just not me you wanted a family with?"

She'd rather be struck with his hand than his deceitful mouth. It would hurt much less.

"I did, Aelys—I do!" He pleaded, stepping forward to console her. His arms looked like steel traps in her louded mind.

She took a lengthy step back. She would not share his warmth, nor his love. Or his bed, his room, his damned dining room. His children. Not when he had shared it with another woman. Given her his love, his attention, his son.

She could not bear to keep herself calm any longer. Adressing the entire courtyard, who had made themselves the Stark's own personal peanut gallery, she spoke firmly. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." Without a second glance back at the Stark, Aelys excused herself to her chambers, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the chamberpot until she could only dry-heave nothingness. These chambers had not been used since she arrived in Winterfell, instead choosing to sleep and stay in their marital ones. She would not step foot into those again unless she was dragged kicking and screaming.

Aelys awoke to strong arms lifting her from the stone floor. Groggily, she was stirred from her deep and preserving sleep. How long had she been traveling? How long had she been buried under those pelts? Time was a blur when she was in a near comatose state, dead to the world. Limbs were numbed and her body felt warm after so long in the cold weather.

"I've got you, sweet girl. We're going home." A familiar voice rung in the back of her head. Even the jolting movements of a horse trotting could not fully move her to consciousness as she fell back asleep.

When she fully gained her sense of mind, she could clearly hear the sound of two men arguing. The warmth of a hearth was next to her as she lifted heavy blankets and furs off of her body. Glancing around, Aelys found herself back right where it all started. In Cregan's room, formerly their marital chambers that she had long since moved out of. A large oil painting sat over the heart, depicting a newlywed image of her and Cregan. They both smiled brightly in the photo, much to Cregan's complaint that the painting did not make him look 'serious enough'. She only laughed and tipped the painter extra gold dragons for the accuracy.

She loved that painting more than any others they kept in the Great Keep. Now, the two faces looking down at her only served to remind her of the falsehood she lived every day while Cregan was absent. Taking care of Winterfell and the North all by herself, just to come back and be thanked by his uncouth mistakes.

Shakily standing up, she winced at the feeling coming back to her limbs. Wriggling all twenty of her toes and fingers, she ensured they still all had feeling. Miraculously, she did. The numbess still felt vaguely there, and her throat was extremely dry and achy. But at least she was alive. Even if it was back in Winterfell, she could attempt her return to the Motte as soon as the storm died down.

It had been a dreadful blizzard. Not a rare sight in the North, but usually none lasted so long. Aelys could not help but feel it was the Gods punish Cregan and Aelys for their marital spat. Something like this must be so futile and useless in their eyes and the eyes of the people of the realm, but to Aelys it was her world and her life. No one could help Aelys but herself. She'd leave these spoiled halls even if the Old Gods and the New wished otherwise. If Cregan didn't have to keep oaths, why should she?

Opening the large wooden door, Aelys found the source of the faint yelling. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father in front of Cregan, in all his gruff charm with his silver hair and beard. She hadn't seen him in nearly two years. She stayed at the archway under the door, simply listening in as the men shouted further down the hall. If either turned their heads, they would spot her eavesdropping.

"—cannot even keep her safe during Winter! Am I to expect her to stay safe during a wildling attack, or worse? Or will you be prioritizing the safety of your mistress?" Harriston shouted, veins nearly popping out from his forehead and neck in his fury. Snow still gathered on his pelt coat, meaning he had just arrived recently.

"It is my mistake that she was endangered out there—but I would never let such a thing happen again under my protection. This is her home, I cannot allow her to go back to the Dreadfort. She is a Stark." Cregan emphasized, though had a defensive raised tone.

"Was she a Stark when you bed a whore in King's Landing?"

"The situation is more complicated than that." He responded, clenching his jaw.

"Nothing could ever be more complicated than losing your wit at a brothel, Stark. There is no argument to be had. She is staying with her family, where she was intending." Harriston growled out, a tone of finality to his tone. As he swung on his feet to head down the hall, face set in a worried and seething anger, he finally spotted his daughter.

"Aelys!" He yelled in relief, rushing toward her and scooping her up into his thick arms. "We're going home immediately. We will wash our hands of the Starks once and for all."

"I will not allow that." Cregan spoke from behind. As Aelys hugged her father back just as tightly, it was a battle to keep her tears from flowing in his safe arms. She missed her father more than she knew.

Before Harristone could speak, Aelys nodded. "We will settle this." She said flatly. Her father hesitantly let her go, nodding once firmly after seeing the resolve in his daughter's eyes.

"Very well. I will wait in the dining hall for you." He sighed, walking away.

Aelys shivered in the loss of warmth again. In her bare feet and night gown, she felt the cold of the cobblestone walls and floors start to seep under her skin again. "Here," Cregan murmured, gently shifting his mass of brown wolf pelt over her shoulders and clicking the direwolf emblem into place.

She allowed it, though she did not thank him with words. She took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes. "I want to separate. Divorce, I mean." She said tiredly.

Cregan flinched, jaw ticking and heavily considering her words. "That is entirely my fault. It is in your right to ask that of me." He said, voice dimmed and not nearly half of his assuredness. "But please, hear me out."

"What could I possibly hear you out with?" She asked, exhaustion clear in her tone. She'd dealt with this situation long enough.

Cregan nudged the door back open, nodding for her to enter. Reluctantly, she led the way in and watched as he gently shut it behind them. "I swore an oath, nearly nine moons ago." Cregan started.

Her brows furrowed, bemused. "To whom?"

Guiltily, he looked down at her, looking much alike to a kicked pup. "My sister."

"To Sara? What ever for?" She grew frustrated, knowing he was beating around the bush.

Taking a deep breath, he told her everything. "Sara stayed with her friend Alysanne Blackwood in Raventree hall for the entire time I was aiding King Aegon. In that time—she fell pregnant."

Aelys' heart dropped to her stomach. The same sick feeling overtaking her. She did not say a word.

"Davos Blackwood and Sara had built a bond, much like we did." He said. "When she told Davos of the news, they both went to Lord Blackwood to plea to marry each other. He refused, not allowing his heir to marry a bastard."

"And you legitimized Brandon as your own in turn?" She hissed.

"Sara begged me to. She lived her life as a bastard—she did not wish the same for her own son. I swore to her that my nephew would never be allowed the same treatment. I knew Aegon would do it." He trailed.

"So you bring him home, and humiliate me instead? You didn't even tell me, your own wife! You chose Sara over me. She is your sister, I know, but she chose to be with Davos Blackwood." She could have taken a tea, or moved to Essos or Dorne where bastards were more accepted. There were other options, but neither Sara nor Cregan used them. "That is cruel, Cregan. It is heartless." She cried.

"I never wished to hurt you, I only wanted to protect her. It was my oath." Cregan pleaded, grabbing her hands in his.

She shivered again, though unknowing if it was in chill or her own anger. Part of her was happy that he never truly took another woman to bed—never picked another other her. Though he still hid the biggest secret in the world from her for moons. Allowed her to suffer in their shared home and withstand the pitious looks of the people and court.

"I can't trust you. Not ever again. You could not trust me with your own kin's truth, and punished me for it." She stated. She could not allow herself to cave in so easily, to fall back into his arms.

"I understand, sweet girl." He muttered, softly stroking the apple of her cheek almost mindlessly. "I will sign whatever the Maester's conjure up. You will be free to marry whoever you wish—someone who will not lie to you."

The Starks were known for their loyalty and devotedness to their oaths. If Cregan Stark had lied to his wife so easily, no lesser man could ever make her happy with faithfulness and loyalty. Aelys had accepted her life to be one of loneliness from the day Brandon was allowed into the home.

"I will stay in Deepwood Motte for the time being. From there, I will see where my path leads." She said vaguely, unknowing now of what her heart desired. "Wish Sara well for me." Aelys asked of him, leaving him behind as she wiped any straying tears from her face.

"I love you, Aelys." He said, calling softly after her.

"I know." She whispered to herself.

In the dining hall, Harriston awaited her arrival. Perking up when she entered, he knowingly took her into his arms. "I'm tired, father."

"Let's go home. Your mother has missed you dearly." He said, planting a fatherly kiss to her temple.

Aelys would not yet send word for a formal separation to the Citadel or to the King. For now, time apart was what she declared best for herself.

divider by - @issysh3ll

tags - @palomavz @emithefrog @karinalight @johnshelbywife @tojisrealwifey @baddielizzy @pearldaisy @brookiecookie @jessicar401 @hardkiddonut @littlelilly27-blog @nayaniasworld @just-mj-or-not @flaneurpastel @unsweetenedpeatea @blucesita09 @maxmegara @deeeeexx @masschotch @janniepark1997 @spongelistener @margaaaa30 @paracii @lovebabe18 @rey26 @damneddamsy @yunnifer @kenzcarson @glqmmywhqmmy @arizonadesert @blumin8 @its-your-girl-savy @dreamygirli3 @aemondloverr @zaranobiyuyu @nsr-15 @oxymakestheworldgoround @isansstuff @high-speed-r

so many tags dont work 🥲 will try to tell in comment sec

ending is ambiguous. Will she decide to divorce or eventually mend their relationship? Up to you!

might make an alt ending where he really is just a shitty guy but this had been my idea from the start (many guessed it and i could not reply to them because of it lmao)

sorry if those two scenes got repetitive, but I wanted to show the 'cregan bringing brandon home' from both of their more detailed perspectives. Cregan's shame and guilt and her humiliation and heartbreak.

so many people guessed so close (to the sara part at least) only saw Jace thoughts tho, but he's already dead long before Cregan's walk down to the South. Would have been much more dramatic, but I think Jace would never allow a child of his to be apart from him. Many people swayed me to lead them to separate instead of stick together, and it does make more sense to have her leave him in the end. Although he did not cheat he still lied and publicly humiliated her, even unintentionally, but he's a grown man who is smart enough to know consequences.

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

Imagine this

I've been reading some of this good fics about Yandere Batfam x neglected Reader and it got me thinking.

In some of this fic, usually it's Alfred that has given the reader some love and have not neglected the poor thing and I was like,

What if Reader is still neglected by the batfam but Alfred gave them enough love so much that reader just decided to stay just for Alfred and Reader really just treated Alfred as their real Father or Grandfather.

Where Reader just let go of any expectation from getting attention from the others and just strive to make Alfred proud and happy.

How the turns have table

Imagine reader walking pass the others not bothering to greet them as they look for Alfred instead and other stuff.

Dick seeing them practically skipping as they clutch on a medal hanging on their neck.

"Woah hey!-...um whatcha got-". He tries to say but doesn't get any answers because you were busy muttering to yourself 'I got first place! I have to show this to Alfred!' as you giggle while looking down at the medal and sprint away when you see a glimpse of the butler at the distance.

How instead of begging for the others to train you and become a vigilante, you ask Alfred to train you for self-defense (especially the stuff from his spy days).

Jason was the first to arrive at the manor when the team heard about some intruders getting in but halted when he sees you tying up the unconscious thugs on the floor.

"Hey Alfred is this right?". You didn't pay them any mind when some of them pile in as you pay attention to Alfred who was praising you and giving you more good defense tips while you and him pull the unconscious people out.

How you spend healthy family time with Alfred by helping him in cooking and chores that earns you some knowledge of the recipes from his famous dishes.

Tim was trying to grab a coffee when he sees you having a fun time with Alfred as you skillfully prepare for dinner and actually have good laughs with him.

"Okay, then after I fold this I should add some paprika, right?". You ask the butler as he smiles at you while sipping on the tea that you made for him.

"Yes, you're correct once again young miss/master". He said while humming after drinking the tea indicating how good it is.

Tim can practically see you lighting up as you cheered a 'yes!' from Alfred's confirmation.

How you revolved your time and passion to Alfred and actually deciding that only Alfred is the one you should waste your time on.

Damian wonders around the manor when you and him bump into one another.

"And what are YOU doing walking around MY Father's manor?". He asks while glaring at you.

you just sigh and turn while clutching away the art supplies you bought so you can paint in the garden with Alfred.

"Walking away from you that's what I'm doing". you tell him as you turn the other way not even bothering to argue with the boy anymore.

How you do well in your studies and aim to get a good degree/phd and act like a proper man/lady but not because you want to keep up to being a Wayne but to see Alfred's proud face as he watches you stand on the stage as you show him your diploma/degree certificate.

Bruce decided to take a walk from sitting down for too long when he walk pass a framed picture on the hallway near Alfred's room and double takes when he sees you and Alfred standing together with while you were wearing a toga and cap holding not just any graduation certificate but a college one as the both of you look so happy and him seeing Alfred having that loving and well pleased expression something he rarely sees from Alfred after becoming the crusading dark knight.

Looking at the date he couldn't believe that it has been more that a few years since the graduation happened.

All of the family who used to ignore you suddenly took a different turn and started to try and get your attention but they fail to see that you already moved on from them and only cared about the one person that have literally loved you from the beginning.

Bonus:

Imagine Thomas and Martha Wayne was mysteriously revived for a day and met the family but was deeply disappointed to the others and took a special liking to reader because Alfred has said many good things about them and them especially getting many good degrees something that the rest haven't gotten yet or never bothered to get (this is my hot take because my family are hellbent on us cousins to finish school) and you know for a fact that Alfred is really REALLY proud of the kid that he raised preciously

[mythicalmaven]

19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected. 

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening? 

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling. 

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Sequel

Masterlist

[taintandviolent]

Turbo Lover ; Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: After getting fed up with Jason Carver and his gross attitude, reader decides to take him up on a dare. That dare, is kissing Eddie Munson on the mouth. Something she's been longing to do since she arrived in Hawkins.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.5K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), fingering, handjobs.

a/n: started writing this back in *checks watch* july of 2022....... ahem. finished writing this to turbo lover by judas priest, if you wanna listen! just felt like an eddie song to me, don't ask for clarification. this could possibly be a multi-parter, haven't decided yet. my first (technically) eddie fic...... do not come for my throat, thanks. not beta-read, yada yada yada. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

“Oh, choke on it, Jason.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Mrs. Cowan for a replacement lab partner.”

Rolling your eyes, you resist the urge to fling your forkful of corn at him. “Hah! Please do. I’d rather stick my tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat and spend the weekend with mono than spend another blissful second trying to watch you figure out anatomy, dipshit.”

“Go do it then. I dare you.” Jason barks, nostrils flaring. He was going to call your bluff. There was no way that you were going to go over to that weird satanist’s table. Being more of a rocker, you weren’t posh and cute like Chrissy was, but you still had boundaries. And a good head on your shoulders. He knew you did. He hoped you did.

“Fine,” you snap, slamming both palms onto the table. “I hope you fail your science project.” Jason’s confident expression falls. Your rings scrape against the plastic as you push yourself up. With more determination than you’d had the entire semester, you swing both your legs over the bench and head for Eddie’s table, navigating around the other tables. The rest of his little dungeon buddies are already gawking at you as they’d been paying attention to the shouting. Confidently, you take a running leap up onto the table, and stomp your way down its length like a soldier marching towards enemy fire. The target, Eddie Munson, was staring at you with wide eyes and brows lifted.

“Outta my way.” The pointed tip of your boot sends an empty lunch tray flying off the table and clattering onto the floor.

“Hey, Munson!” You drop down onto your haunches, and now, eye-level with him, grab his face and pull it towards you, crushing your lips against his. The roll he’s holding drops from his grasp, falling lifelessly onto his tray. As soon as his plush lips press into yours, giving way to your tugging, your shoulders relax, melting into the kiss. You had been waiting for an excuse to get his attention since you’d sat down in your first class at Hawkins High, daydreaming about talking to him. You’d spent many a class period staring at Eddie’s lips, so you expected the kiss would be enjoyable… but not like this.

At first, both of your lips were closed, smushed together in the hurriedness of the moment, but when you exhale and his lips part, your tongue delves into his mouth, sweeping along his. To your surprise, he reciprocates the action, and presses his chin up into yours, asserting a new sort of need. Despondent groans and laughs of shock pepper the cafeteria around you, and from behind you, came the confusion of the other residents of the table. As you take Eddie Munson in literal mouthfuls, you felt something shift in him, and the noise started to fade away. You tilt your head, and push deeper into the kiss.

“Who the hell is she?” One of the boys asks, clearly as confused as everyone else was.

You shudder against him, feeling a burning heat between your legs, and immediately pull away to stand up, turning to face the far table. Jason was staring at you, looking more embarrassed than disgusted, but he did well hiding it with his scholarship scowl. You wipe the back of your hand across your mouth, drawing your — Eddie’s— the mutual saliva across your cheek. Triumphantly, you hold your arms out, daring the blonde haired moron to say anything further. He doesn’t. 

With a proud smirk on your face, you pivot back to Eddie, lips parted to speak, maybe to apologize to him for being so forward. All that comes out though, is the jarring echo of the lunch bell as it rings loudly through the cafeteria. You take that as an excuse to get out of the situation, and step down onto the bench between two of his little minions, then onto the floor. With your heart pounding in your chest like a drum, you make a beeline for the lockers. You’re practically running down the halls, and for what? To get away from Eddie? The guy you had just swapped spit with? And liked it?  

After shaking his head free of the shock, Eddie hurriedly bins his lunch and takes off after you, leaving the boys to their own devices. He was panting quietly once he’d finally caught up to you. “Hey, just wait a minute, okay?”

You say nothing, and keep digging in your locker for a book you knew wasn’t there. You’d left it at home, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“Come on, you can’t just plant something like that on me and run away, man.” You hear a thump against the locker next to you, and out of the corner of your eye, see him leaning his shoulder into it. You huff and keep digging.

“You really think I’d give you mono?” He asks, sounding hurt.

Forcing your breath out through your teeth, you stop digging, and lean back to look at him. Those puppy eyes…

“No,” you say, feeling bad that he even heard that to begin with. You shut the locker. “I don’t. But the point was that I’d rather suffer with y— errr suffer any sort of wicked sickness than be even remotely happy around him.”

“So… why’d you stop? Was it that bad?”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I stopped because I… um, the bell was going to ring.” That was a lie. You stopped because your beating heart had sunk between your legs. Kissing him was a massive turn-on, but you weren’t about to admit that.

“That it did…” he starts, absentmindedly playing with a strand of his own hair. “And now we’re late.”

You narrow your eyes. His brows flick upwards and the tip of his tongue presses pointedly into his lower lip, a little glimmer of mischief in his expression. Ready to prove him wrong, your eyes dart to the clock above the lockers, the visual causing you to curse under your breath. You hadn’t even heard the second bell, but he was right. Three minutes past. And Mr. Jenkins? Didn’t let anyone in after the bell rang. Fucker. Eddie shimmies closer, his soft, brown eyes falling to your lips. He was smiling, watching you and looking like he was daydreaming about having those soft lips against his again. 

“You wanna’... maybe show me what else you’d rather be doing than spending your time with brainless Ken dolls?”

You considered the offer for a moment. You had been pining after him since your first English class with him, and now… your split decision had thrown open the door to opportunity. When you’d tried to close it, Eddie had put his dirty white Reebok right in the way.

“Screw it, let’s go.” 

“Yeah?” He confirms, excited.

“Yeah.” 

Eddie wastes no time, taking hold of your hand as he passes you, towing you in the direction of the doors and out into the parking lot. 

How did you end up here? In retrospect; you’d probably have to thank Jason for pissing you off that day, in that particular way that really drove you over the edge. Because if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been crawling into the back of Eddie Munson’s van while he stood behind you, looking at the gentle curve of your ass.

After throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder, making sure there weren’t any prying eyes watching the two of you, Eddie follows you inside and pulls the door shut behind him, the metal squeaking loudly. You sit down and cross your legs, resting against the interior wall. The inside of his van is warm, having baked in the sun all afternoon. Cassette tapes litter the floor behind the seats, and a Judas Priest shirt hangs over the headrest of the passenger seat. A few undisclosed cables are wadded up in the corner, you assume they were musical in nature. He seemed like the type. It’s exactly what you’d pictured his van to look like. 

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry about the… mess.” 

You chuckle, looking brightly at him. “I don’t care. Plus, Judas Priest is rad. That song that came out last month… Turbo Lover? Gets stuck in my head all the time.” 

Delighted by this reaction, Eddie knee-walks over to you, that same mischievous smile on his face as before. He leans down, exhaling over your lips before looking into your eyes with a burning curiosity.

“Why were you sitting at his table anyway? You don’t seem like his type.” 

“His type? Gah, gross. No. We’re lab partners. Regrettably. Turns out, he’s kind of a massive dolt when it comes to science.” You pause and heave a sigh, your breath rushing out over his cheeks. He blinks. “I really don’t want to talk about Jason right now, Eddie.” 

“Oh yeah, totally.” With that, his hand snaps to your jaw, where he holds it gently, his thumb stroking your cheek. “You wanna’ makeout or something?” 

You can’t help but laugh, unsure if it’s because of the butterflies in your stomach, or because he’s kind of a dork. Smooth and very charming, but a dork all the same. You chalk it up to a combination of both and lean forward until the tips of your noses touch. “Yeah, Eddie, I wanna’ makeout. Again.”

This time, Eddie is the one to initiate the kiss. He presses his lips against yours softly a few times, your lips sticking together each time he pulls away. Relishing in the taste of you, he hums into the kiss, pressing himself closer to you. After a few moments, he breaks the kiss to readjust his position. The break is too long, it seems, because before you know it, he’s back to leaning over you and craning his neck down to kiss you from above. His hands drop to find your neck, his thumb trailing down over the front of it while the others stay tenderly wrapped around the side, squeezing slightly. The motion sends a deep shiver down your spine, reigniting the embers of your arousal. Eddie laughed breathily into the kiss. 

“Quite the reaction…” he murmurs over your lips.

“Oh, shuttup.” Your hand makes a fist in his shirt, pulling him back onto you. “Keep kissing me.” 

“As you wish.” He says dreamily, with lust woozying his speech. His voice is slightly deeper now, laced with hunger, and you whimper, pressing your knees together. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices this, and moves his free hand to your kneecaps, wriggling in between them to separate them. They fall apart with no resistance, and again, Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against your lips, sending a tickling wave over them. Your willingness almost embarrasses you, but when Eddie says nothing, only moves to slot himself in between your thighs, you realize that he’s into it. 

“No need to be shy here, princess. Just you and me.”

Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers splaying out over his back. “God, you’re cute.” 

“So are you.” 

“No, you’re really cute.” 

Eddie pulls away, furrowing his brow as if he’s confused. He is – he’s confused on whether or not you realize he thinks you’re a catch, too. You sense the confusion, and roll your hips up against his. His breath hitches in his throat, eyeing you pleadingly. It’s a warning – you can’t do things like that lest he lose control.  

“Uuughh,” you moan. “I don’t know why it took me this long to kiss you.” 

“Me neither.” 

He presses his lips against yours again, his tongue slipping past the two plush pillows, tasting the waxiness of your lipstick. Swiping his tongue along yours, he deepened the kiss, enticing you to join in a painfully erotic dance of spit-swapping. He exhales hotly over your mouth and grinds his hips against yours, groaning softly into your mouth. You grind back, knowing exactly what you’re doing. You can feel what you’re doing to him; it was currently pressed against your inner thigh. 

You reach down between your bodies, finding the warm bulge in the front of his black jeans and give him a soft squeeze. The sudden contact makes him lurch forward, crushing himself somehow further against you. He can’t get any closer to you without melting into your body which, in truth, makes him crazy. He makes a sound — something between a whine and a gasp — and ruts his hips against your center. The pressure has you reeling, pressing your back against the inside of the van. 

“Eddie, fuck…” 

“Yeah,” he echoes your sentiment, nodding his head so enthusiastically that his soft brown hair flutters. 

“Can I…?” 

He grins. “You can if I can. It’s only fair.” 

You let your legs fall farther apart, granting him access. With a newfound urgency, you quickly yank on his waistband, pull the silver button from its slit and maneuver your hand inside the elastic of his boxers. On the way down, you rake your fingers through the thatch of brown hair above his cock. Eddie responds by tightening his grip on your neck instinctively. The tips of your fingers find the searing hot head of his cock, precum leaking from the slit. With an audible mmmm, you swipe your thumb over it, smearing around the underside of the tip. Eddie hisses through his teeth, rutting his hips over and over again – forcing you to jerk him off a little. The tip slides through your fist, slippery and warm and you can’t help but let out a satisfied sound. 

“Wow,” you breathe, in awe. You weren’t sure what you expected, but feeling a cock this heavy wasn’t on the menu. You’d been with a few metalheads before, and they were all average at best. You thought he’d follow suit. Not heavy in your hand. But he is. God, he is. Eddie licks hungrily at your mouth before running his tongue along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth, biting down slightly. You groan, pressing your head back against the wall. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you say, breathlessly before squeezing his cock again. It twitches in your grip, hardening just a little bit further. You can feel the tension in his lower abdomen every time you slip your hand deeper into his boxers, tugging at his cock as you slide back up. 

His hands drop from your neck to your waist to your hips, his thumb making circles on the strip of exposed stomach flesh between your black leather skirt and your shirt. One hand sinks lower,  moving from your hip to your leg, sliding against the pillowy, cream soft flesh of your inner thigh.  It slides up your skirt, pressing against the nylons, and grazing your cunt from the outside. Inside his jeans, your hand starts to go slack, but Eddie quickly snaps you back to attention.

“I’m gonna’ need you to stay focused, baby. Don’t stop.”  

“S-sorry.” You pick up the pace, stroking his cock again at a much steadier speed. He lets out a soft groan, the feeling of your hand gently stroking his dick sending him into a haze of pleasure. But, he, too, has to focus. 

Eddie gets back to work, carefully undoing the zipper on the side of your skirt. He tugs, shimmying the skirt down over your hips and continues pulling until he pauses to pull your legs from the black circle, tossing it towards the van doors. Now, the only thing between him and your cunt is the fabric of your tights and your white satin underwear. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is Eddie – the look on his face says it all. He sweeps you into another kiss. 

It’s almost as if he was using the kiss as a distraction from the adept way he’s rolling your nylons off your hips and down your thighs. You almost don’t feel it and don’t notice until he’s got them down around your ankles. 

“May I?” 

“May you? What is this –” You asked, trying to tease him, but your voice is so high pitched, so feathery with lust, that it just sounds ridiculous. You huff and nod, giving him whatever permission he felt he needed. 

His middle finger traces the visible slit in your underwear and embarrassingly, your whole body responds. From your legs snapping shut on his hand to the utterly humiliating moan that tumbled off your lips, there’s no coming back from that reaction. Eddie laughs quietly, almost devilishly and you relax your legs again. 

“Sorry, I’ve… I’ve been…. Um…” 

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.”

“Oh god, fuck… I’ve kinda’ sorta’ had a thing for you since English with M–”

“Mrs. Lawrence? Last semester.” 

Your mouth hung slack. He knew? 

“You really thought you’d walk in, looking the way you do, and I wouldn’t remember?” 

Your stomach tightens underneath your shirt; butterflies are erupting beneath the skin. Any further jabs to your heart and they actually might rupture through your ribcage.

His finger sweeps along your center again, before hooking around the scalloped edge of the panties and pulling them down over the curve of your hip. A clear, slick strand stretches between your cunt and the fabric before snapping. Eddie growls, a deeply pleased sound erupting from his throat. 

Two fingers part your folds, sweeping tantalizingly at the underside of your clit before sliding down to your entrance. He prods the opening with his middle first, making tiny circles and spreading your arousal around your cunt. Finally, he inserts both fingers, sinking them to the knuckle. Moving his arm, you watch as the bats literally fly back and forth and let out a small, breathy laugh. The way he was working you felt so good, your hand instinctively tightened around his cock. Eddie shuffled closer, his knee in front of your cunt. Before you have time to react, Eddie abruptly takes hold of your left hand and brings it above your head, holding it tight against the wall of his van, his rings pressing into your fingers. Your digits tangle with his and he flays them open.

He continues thrusting his fingers in and out, watching your every move. You looked up and whined loudly; the sight of your smaller hand entangled with his larger one was divine, and sent another shockwave through your core. The coil in your stomach wound tighter, and tighter. Your body flushed with heat, and you were suddenly wishing you were naked underneath him. Eddie suddenly leans over you, pressing the side of his face against yours. 

“I’m your turbo lover…” He sings quietly in your ear, his tone honeyed and low, absolutely dripping with sex appeal. Your eyes roll back in your head, your jaw falling open. “...tell me there’s no other…” 

“Oh fuck, Eddie, oh my god-!”

At the singing, your needy pussy clenched around his digits, shivering violently. His thumb moves to your swollen, tender clit, rubbing it back and forth expertly. The coil snaps, and you moan loudly, banging your head against the wall a few times. 

“OH MY GOD!” 

You shouldn’t have found it so hot, but the way he sung the lyrics into your ear sent a wave of electricity through your entire body. As the sound of your moans reach his ears, Eddie groans and bucks his hips rhythmically, pumping himself closer to the edge of orgasm. 

After a few more pumps from you, his back arches and he groans your name – another surprise that he knows that – as his hot, sticky release coats your fingers as wave after wave of pleasure surges through him. The flushed, pink tip was exposed enough that when he does finally lose it, the first spurts of cum find their way onto your shirt. He doesn’t notice right away, still thrusting his hips into your loose fist. Finally, he brings his head forward to look at you again. His chest is heaving, panting from the exertion, and his eyes trail from your face down to your shirt. The wanton look is replaced with one of horror. 

“Jesus, I’m sorry! Here uh,” Eddie paused, stretching over to yank the shirt from the seat. “Wear this. I promise it’s clean. Decently… uh… clean.” 

You didn’t care if it wasn’t. The fact that he had given you his shirt because he accidentally came on yours was single handedly the cutest thing you’d ever had a guy do for you. You withdrew your hand from his boxers, and he let go of your other hand. Quickly, you pulled your shirt over your head and wadded it up in a ball, setting it next to you. His shirt was baggy, but you quickly remedy that by tying the front in a knot. The way that Eddie’s eyes skirted over your breasts wasn’t lost on you. You smirk. 

“Think Mr. Jenkins noticed we were both gone?” He asks as you fluff your hair. 

“Probably. F’s for both of us.” 

Eddie smiles.

You look down at the shirt, trying to talk your blushing cheeks down. “I’ll give this back to you. Remind me.” 

“Sure,” he says, not fully convinced he wants it back. He likes the idea of you wearing his shirt around school. A dirty little reminder of what occurred. “You should come to one of our meetings.” 

“Meetings?” You ask, quirking a brow. 

“Yeah,” he says, plucking his shirt. Your eyes drift down to the red, snarling demon on his chest. The words Hellfire Club crown the demon, decorated with medieval looking weapons.

“Right, right. Dungeons and Dragons… I’ve never played it.”

“I’ll teach you, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” 

[PART TWO HERE]

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day fifteen.

Good Girl + Wearing His Clothes During Sex (2k words)

summary: The last thing you needed was your boyfriend distracting you from all the work you needed to get done, but he knew just the way to get your attention.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, established relationship, oral (f receiving), praise, dom!lando, unprotected sex.

The big hotel room felt overwhelming as you sat on the desk with your laptop in front of you. This is what you had to put up with for travelling around the world to support your boyfriend. You wouldn’t say it wasn’t worth it, but it was the time difference that was really killing you. 

You hoped to have enough time to enjoy Brazil and its beautiful activities, but sadly, this wasn’t the case, since you now found yourself feeling stressed, with a million things to do, and wearing one of Lando’s shirts that rested just above your thigh to put up with the hot weather.

Lando was laying on the bed, staring at you as you typed away; he was growing a little desperate. You promised you would be done in time for lunch, or at least to spend some time together, but it wasn’t looking like that would happen for who knows how long.

“How is it going?”

“Uh- not great,” he sighed as you said this. There were many reasons he brought you with him, and watching you work was not one of them. “I’ll be over soon, I promise.”

“How long?”

“Baby, I’ll be done in time for lunch, okay?” You said again, looking at him momentarily.

He looked at the time, assuming he wouldn’t have to wait too much since it was almost lunchtime. He decided to stop bothering you and just let you do your thing, knowing that if he distracted you, you’d take longer, and he just needed you to himself as soon as possible. 

An hour went by, and it didn’t look like you would be done any time soon; he hated to admit it, but he was almost at his limit. He realised it wasn’t fair to feel that way, but he honestly couldn’t help it. He decided to give you 15 more minutes, mentally setting a timer to drag you away from your computer, and when the time was done, that’s exactly what he did, or at least that was his intention. 

“Okay, time for lunch. What do you feel like eating?” He said it in a tone that felt like he wasn’t giving you an option to reject him. 

“Just 30 more minutes, baby, I promise.”

“What? That’s what you said almost two hours ago.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I just need to send this one thing and I’m all yours.” You looked at him with a soft smile, hoping he would understand.

Instead, he grunted in annoyance. “Baby, please. Is that office falling apart without you?”

“It is, by the looks of it.”

“Come on. Let’s have lunch and then you can come back to work. I’m starving.”

“Lando,” you stared at him more seriously now, feeling like a mother telling their kid away, going back to your laptop after a few seconds.

Were you being serious? He thought as he stood there, still looking at you and waiting for you to give him some attention. But you didn’t, so he would have to come up with a better plan. 

He stood behind the desk chair, wrapping his arms around you as he planted soft kisses on your jaw. This made you melt instantly, but that feeling quickly went away when a notification popped on your screen. With that, your attention went back to the screen.

But he wouldn’t give up so easily. His mouth travelled further down, paying special attention to your neck.

“Not now, Lando. I’m quite busy.”

He turned the chair around, so now you were facing him. “You need to take a break, my love, you can’t keep going like this.”

“I’m almost done-”

“That’s what you have been saying, not only today but literally every day.” He was giving you his best puppy eyes, hoping that would make you break. 

“I know… no, don’t give me that look.”

“Please, one hour is all I’m asking for. We’ll order room service so we don’t even have to leave the room. Is a win-win.”

He kneeled in front of you, his hands landing on your thighs as he started kissing your exposed skin. You were considering it; in one hand, stopping for an hour wouldn’t hurt anybody, but then again, if you stopped, that means you would eventually have to come back and finish later.

That internal battle was soon forgotten when you felt one of his hands creeping up between your legs, quickly finding your clothed core. You let out an involuntary moan, closing your eyes as you enjoyed his touch.

“See? You need to relax,” he whispered, his kisses becoming wetter the closer he got to the inside of your thighs. “Lift your hips for me.” Lando hooked his fingers in the hem of your panties, sliding them down your body and throwing them somewhere behind him. With all the patience in the world, he used one of his fingers to play with your clit, circling it softly as he looked up at you, a smirk forming on his face when he saw how much you were enjoying it.

“Want me to keep going?”

“Y-yes,” you breathed out, swallowing hard as your small hand fell on his hair.

He decided to cut out the teasing now that he could see how desperate you were getting, burying himself completely between your legs and planting a kiss directly on your clit. The moan you let out was glorious, and it only encouraged him to keep going. He then started to properly eat you out, licking and sucking just the way you liked it. He directed his tongue to your dripping hole, collecting all your arousal and then licking up your slit, bringing it to your sensitive clit.

“Shit, so good,” you moaned, and you could feel him smiling at the effect he had on you.

God, his tongue was really doing wonders. Repeatedly, he was lapping at your clit and then gently sucking on it for a longer period of time, which he knew was what you enjoyed the most, teasing it with the tip of his tongue from time to time. A few minutes went by as he repeated this process, adding a finger inside you when he felt you clench around nothing.

The added pleasure made you arch your back and push his head closer to you, although that was impossible. You couldn’t help it; you could feel your orgasm so close yet so far. It was probably the stress; Lando was right, you were overworking yourself day after day, and this was probably just what you needed.

Another thick finger was added as he picked up the pace, and you began to feel the familiar tightening of your orgasm approach.

“Lando- fuck.” Your eyes were squeezed shut as your legs that rested on his shoulder began to shake, gasps and pants escaping your lips as you started to see stars, your orgasm hitting you shortly after. 

You could hear him moan faintly, the vibrations prolonging your climax as your tiny clit pulsed against his tongue. Your entire body was combulsing so much that you were sure that if Lando wasn’t holding you with one of his strong arms, the chair wouldn’t be standing anymore.

When it became too much, you pushed his head away, breathing heavily as you came down from your high. But he was starting to get needy himself. He shifted on his feet and carried you in his arms, immediately kissing you, and you could taste yourself in his mouth. 

He walked towards the bed and softly placed you down, stepping away for a moment to undress himself. You admired his muscles flexing as he pulled his shirt over his head, his eyes never leaving your body. His intense gaze made you feel exposed, reaching down and trying to shove the shirt over your bare bottom half while he stood over you. 

God, he really had you in the palm of his hand, because the way he chucked had you pathetically leaking down your thighs and onto the bed. 

“Can’t get shy now, sweetheart, I’ve seen all of it,” he reminded you, making your cheeks go red as you recalled the events that took place in the chair across the room just minutes ago. 

You timidly nodded, paying attention to how his hands moved to undo his belt and pull his pants down, along with his underwear. His smirk grew darker as you pressed your thighs together; the way he affected you never went unnoticed, and he always yearned to give you more.

Once he was finally done, he hovered over you, his lips immediately finding yours. You involuntarily moaned against him, wrapping your legs around him to bring him closer. In a swift movement, he rolled you over so you would be on top, dragging your hips lower to get you to sit on his desperate cock. 

Your hips started slowly moving, relieving some of the neediness he was feeling; his moans joined yours, and as you got more into it, your hands reached for the hem of the shirt you were still wearing.

“No, keep that on for me, yeah?” He stopped you, pulling it back down. You nodded and placed your hands on his chest instead, nails digging at his skin.

“Mhm, need you,” you moaned, lifting your hips and guiding his cock to your entrance. That action sent a throb through his already aching abdomen, an incredibly deep moan coming from him as you sat back down. 

“Fuck, so perfect for me.” He whimpered, his hands finding your waist to guide your movements. This made his shirt roll up, uncovering your pussy and part of your tummy; he could practically see himself inside you as you bounced on his cock.

You had your lip trapped between your teeth as your hands were now placed on top of his, your eyes shut as you arched your back, allowing him to have a better view of how his huge cock disappeared inside you. He could watch you ride him forever; you were always so good for him.

“Good girl.” You let out a loud moan at his words and clenched his pulsing dick inside you, making you open your eyes and look down at him — a look somewhere between surprised and embarrassed meeting his eyes.

Lando didn’t share your feelings of embarrassment at all; in fact, he was going insane at the reaction two simple words got out of you. Oh, he was going to use that to his advantage.

“Like it when I call you a good girl?” Fuck, another loud moan. “Yeah, are you being a good girl for me?”

“Ah, yes,” you breathed out, your pace picking up at every word he uttered. 

“Keep going, baby, you are doing so good.” A broken moan vibrated from your chest, only making him more amused.

You did as he said, maintaining a rhythm that felt so good for both of you. However, after a few seconds, he felt like it wasn't fast enough, because the next thing you knew, he had planted his feet on the bed and thursted up into you, his grip on your waist tightening and breaking your rhythm, smirking at the broken moan you let out. 

“I need- please,” you moaned desperately as you felt him hit your g-spot over and over again. He watched with darkened eyes as you threw your head back and screamed his name. 

“Come on, wanna keep my cum inside your tummy?” As if he could drive you even crazier, one of his thumbs landed on your clit. His teeth flashed in a grin when you nodded, pressing harder. “Cum with me, baby.”

As soon as he said those words, the coil in your stomach tightened before breaking completely, more broken moans and a few curses slipping past your lips. He cried out when his orgasm followed soon after, filling your pussy with his hot cum. 

You fell forward onto his chest, his hands caressing your back under the sweaty shirt. “Good girl,” he muttered one more time as he pressed a sweet kiss to your head.

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