#Thankfully I can usually tell a few chapters in

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter three ♡

Summary: Life seems to smooth out with Travis, but an encounter with another Miller stirs your feelings again. Joel comes home at night, and a box waits for him at the kitchen. Word count: 4.8k A/N: Here is a shorter chapter (compared to the previous ones lol) while we're waiting for part 4… Can't wait for the Hoffman's barbecue. Joel isn't usually enthusiastic about it, but something tells me he's not going to miss it this time. ALSO, I have tried to tag all of you, but for some reason some tags don't work, if anyone knows how to fix it please let me know <3.

October 17th. The first thing you discovered was a black sweatshirt, crumpled and forgotten, stuffed in the back of your closet among old clothes and memories. You tossed it into the washing machine and set off to search your house for more of Joel’s things. It didn’t take long to find remnants of him: an old Pearl Jam T-shirt, a white mug bearing his initial that you’d pilfered a few months prior, a couple of CDs with his eclectic taste in music, a well-worn paperback novel, and a screwdriver—the very tool you had used to assemble the small piece of furniture for your bathroom, a testament to your attempts at domesticity.

You placed the T-shirt beside the sweatshirt in the washing machine, feeling a bittersweet nostalgia wash over you as the machine began to spin, the water swirling like your thoughts. The rest of his belongings you carefully set aside in a wooden box, considering when and if you would return them to him. Maybe it would be a gesture of goodwill, a way to close a chapter, but the thought of confronting him felt daunting, like standing on the edge of a cliff.

Three weeks later, the distance felt like a weight in your chest. You hadn’t spoken since that last conversation, and every accidental encounter with him had turned into a delicate dance of avoidance, your eyes darting away as if to shield yourself from the unspoken pain. You suspected he was doing the same—his awareness of your schedule precise, his movements deliberate. You didn’t blame him for it; there was a strange gratitude in the space he had created between you, a sanctuary that allowed both of you to breathe.

Sarah, on the other hand, was a constant presence in your life, her visits frequent and welcome. You couldn’t decipher what Joel had shared with her, but she was unequivocal in her understanding that something had shifted between you and her father. 

“Dad said I can come see you as long as I don’t ask too many questions and I don’t fall asleep,” she announced brightly the first afternoon she bounded into your home, just two days after your last exchange with Joel. “But I want you to know I won’t say anything if you want to tell me everything.” 

Her offer was a balm, and despite the lingering pain, you found yourself laughing, the weight lifting slightly as you embraced her. In that moment, you felt relieved to know that Joel had managed to compartmentalize, that his daughter was not to bear the burden of your heartbreak, nor was she responsible for the fallout. You wanted to continue seeing Sarah, and thankfully, she wanted to keep coming over, a small beacon of normalcy in a turbulent time. That connection remained untainted by the rift between you and Joel.

The clock ticked on, and now it was five o’clock on a crisp afternoon. You stood in your front yard, the late autumn sun warming the back of your neck as you surveyed your plants. Closing your eyes, you savored the gentle warmth, the way it wrapped around you like a familiar embrace. Your lawn and those of your neighbors glowed with the fiery hues of orange and yellow, leaves fluttering like confetti in the soft breeze. It was, as always, your favorite season.

Suddenly, a voice broke through your reverie, calling your name. You turned to see Travis crossing the street, his smile brightening the drab fall afternoon. You waved back, unable to suppress a smile of your own as he approached.

“Enjoying the sunshine?” he asked, stopping beside you, his hand settling on your waist as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek.

“As much as I can,” you replied, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and surprising. Your gaze dropped momentarily to your feet before lifting back to meet his. “Going somewhere?”

“On a quest for dessert,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “Care to join?”

You hesitated, considering for a moment. “I’d better stay and get some work done,” you replied, gesturing toward your front door with a tilt of your head. “But let me know when you get back; I’d love to help with dinner.”

He nodded, a flicker of disappointment passing across his face before he masked it with a smile. After a brief goodbye, he left, giving your waist a gentle squeeze that sent a flutter through your stomach, leaving you feeling both elated and unsettled.

Two weeks prior, you had watched him run past your house, clad in sports gear, hair damp with sweat. There was something magnetic about him; he looked so effortlessly good that a rush of something—determination? Recklessness?—had surged through you. You couldn’t let your past with Joel hold you hostage any longer. It was absurd to keep Travis waiting, simply because you hadn’t been sure of what you felt, or how you should feel. So, you had gathered your courage and knocked on his door, your heart racing at the thought of stepping out of the shadows of your previous life.

When Travis opened the door, his surprise morphing into delight had made your resolve solidify. You’d admitted to him that you were navigating a rough patch, and to his credit, he seemed to understand without pressuring you further. That night, he whisked you away for dinner, and in the weeks that followed, the ease of your time together became a welcome reprieve. 

He was everything you needed—funny, honest, and refreshingly straightforward. He laid his feelings out without demanding anything from you, giving you space to breathe, to recalibrate. You had shared meals together, enjoying his company, indulging in laughter and sweet treats that he always brought, knowing they were your guilty pleasure. 

With him, everything felt uncomplicated, and the more time you spent together, the more you sensed your feelings beginning to shift, like the autumn leaves around you. That night, you resolved to let him make the first move, ready to embrace whatever came next.

*

“What did you think?” Travis asked, his gaze lingering on you, as if the answer might reveal something bigger.

You let out a laugh, the kind that builds in the chest and escapes before you can decide whether it’s actually funny or just absurd. “That was… utterly ridiculous,” you said, watching the movie credits roll up the screen. “Ridiculous and completely unbelievable.”

He grinned, sinking back into the couch beside you, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of shared amusement. “Right? It’s like... a marvel in chaos. Terrible, but in a way that you can’t look away.”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of disbelief and fondness for his strange taste in movies. Zombeavers. He’d made you watch Zombeavers—a movie so bizarrely nonsensical that you couldn’t help but laugh half the time, its zombie-beaver puppets meant to be terrifying but only succeeding in being bizarre. He’d assured you beforehand that it was purely for fun, the kind of film that didn’t demand to be taken seriously, and you’d been dubious but willing.

As your laughter softened, you shifted just a little closer to him, that familiar but thrilling nervousness making your heart flutter. Travis had turned his attention to scrolling through movie options, his fingers lightly tapping the remote as he concentrated. For a brief moment, you hesitated, wondering if it was obvious—how close you were, how much you wanted him to notice. Gathering your courage, you rested your head on his shoulder, letting your gaze drift up to his face just as he glanced down, his eyes softening.

“Are you sleepy, pretty girl?” he murmured, and his voice had that gentle, familiar warmth that made you feel like a teenager again. Your cheeks flushed, and you wondered if he could feel your pulse quicken against him.

“No,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper as you smiled up at him. Tentatively, you lifted a hand to trace the line of his jaw, your fingers grazing his skin as you tilted his face closer. “I just like being with you.”

Travis’s smile deepened, and he leaned in, his hand cradling your face with such tenderness that it nearly broke something in you. His lips met yours softly, a gentle touch, unhurried and respectful, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. You sank into the kiss, letting it ground you, feeling cherished and safe in a way you hadn’t for a long time.

But there, at the edge of your mind, was Joel. Joel with his intense, almost possessive hunger, the way he’d kiss you as if he were afraid he’d never have the chance again. That rawness, the recklessness—it was such a stark contrast to Travis’s gentle control, his restraint. And part of you hated yourself for even thinking about it, for craving something so reckless, for missing what you knew wasn’t good for you.

You pulled back slowly, afraid that your eyes might betray the swirl of conflicting feelings inside you. Travis’s gaze lingered, his hand still on your cheek, and he seemed almost reluctant to let you go, waiting for you to guide him back in. His patience was admirable, though you felt a strange frustration at the lack of urgency, the careful distance he maintained.

“I’m actually a little tired,” you said, giving him a quick peck on the lips, hoping he wouldn’t see through the slight restlessness in your eyes. “But I’d love to see you tomorrow. How about dinner at my place?”

He nodded, his face brightening. “Sounds perfect.” He stood, reaching out a hand to help you up. “I’ll walk you to your door, and that's just an excuse for another goodnight kiss.”

You laughed, reaching for his hand and letting him pull you up, feeling the warmth of his arm around you as you leaned against him. Outside, the air was brisk, the night cool against your skin, and you wished you’d thought to bring a jacket. Not that it mattered much; Travis lived just across the block, a short walk away, but close enough to Joel’s house that the proximity always felt strange. 

Crossing the street, you noticed Joel’s truck wasn’t there, and you willed yourself not to dwell on it, tuning back in to Travis’s voice as he asked, “Are you going?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Going where?” you asked, your voice apologetic. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second.”

“To the Hoffmans’ barbecue,” he said easily, unbothered by your momentary distraction.

Ah, the Hoffmans’ annual Halloween gathering, an event known for Brenda’s culinary enthusiasm and Ian’s grill mastery. Last year, Brenda had baked an array of spooky treats—eyeball jellies, spider cupcakes, you name it. Sarah had devoured at least ten jelly eyes, and you’d indulged in an uncountable number of chocolate spiders. The evening had ended with a viewing of Nightmare on Elm Street, and everyone had left buzzing with laughter and sugar.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, nodding with more enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t miss it. Brenda is amazing at baking. Have you tried her red berry cupcakes?”

“They’re dangerous,” Travis agreed, grinning as he walked you up to your doorstep.

A flicker of movement caught your eye, and you glanced over to see Tommy, Joel’s brother, sitting on the front porch of Joel’s house, a cigarette hanging lazily from his fingers. He watched you with a friendly, knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back, though you quickened your pace slightly as you reached your door.

“So, what time tomorrow?” Travis asked, tilting his head.

“Eight?” you suggested, feeling an odd mix of excitement and unease.

“Perfect,” he replied, and once again his hand lifted to your cheek, thumb tracing the curve softly. But as he leaned in to kiss you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of invisible eyes from across the street, watching. Your mind lingered, unbidden, on Tommy’s piercing gaze.

Travis leaned down, and you met his kiss, brief, almost rushed, pulling away with a small, nervous smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whispered, glancing up at him before stepping back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmured.

You stood watching him leave, distractedly thinking about the evening you'd spent. You were annoyed that you hadn't accepted his date earlier, and at the same time, you didn't blame yourself too much. 

When Travis walked into his house and closed the door, an involuntary sigh escaped your chest.

"Everything okay over there?" Tommy’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts, sounding like a splash of cold water. He was sitting on the front steps, watching you with a casual curiosity that somehow felt entirely too knowing.

You approached slowly, glancing toward the empty entrance of Joel’s house.

"Hey, Tommy," you greeted, a hint of melancholy coloring your voice. It was strange, seeing him here alone—another Miller, but not the one who lingered in your mind. "How are you?"

Tommy stubbed out his cigarette on the step, shrugging with a small grin. "Well, currently on a break from babysitting duty," he joked. "What about you? It’s been a while—what’d Joel do now?"

A chuckle slipped from your lips, the irony of it all making your stomach tighten. He probably didn’t know anything, yet he’d been part of Joel’s carefully built wall of deception. It made you feel odd, but you brushed the feeling aside.

"I've just been busy," you said, knowing how unconvincing it sounded.

Tommy nodded, understanding the subtext without question. "Right," he said, an amused smile forming, "So, Dunn got the girl?"

You couldn’t help but smile back, though you realized too late that your openness might be ill-placed. "Yeah. He’s a good man. I really like him."

It felt surreal, sharing this with Joel’s brother, but somehow you didn’t mind.

"Sarah’s asleep?" you asked, changing the subject, hoping for some distraction.

He nodded, his smile softening. "Out like a light right after dinner. Poor kid didn’t even try the ice cream she begged me to get for movie night." He chuckled, shaking his head.

You smiled at the image, letting yourself savor the thought of Sarah, the cozy living room, the quiet warmth that had always drawn you to this house. It felt bittersweet, like glimpsing a life you no longer fit into. The last time you’d been there flickered in your mind, and any warmth vanished.

When you glanced back at Tommy, he was watching you, brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to read what you weren’t saying.

"I don’t mean to pry," he began cautiously, his tone gentle. "But Joel’s been… well, intolerable lately. Can I ask what happened?"

You raised an eyebrow, a sardonic smile creeping onto your lips. "Sure, Tommy," you replied, a touch of sarcasm bleeding through. "He hasn’t told you anything?"

"Are you kidding?" He laughed, shaking his head. "I asked him once, a couple of days ago, and he practically bit my head off."

You let out a dry sigh, crossing your arms. "He lied to me, pretty sure you know about that," you said, feeling the weight of it again. "We argued, and… things just happened."

Tommy’s eyes widened slightly, but the look of surprise faded quickly, replaced by a knowing smile. He stood up, crossing his arms as he stepped closer, his gaze amused and unrelenting.

"I knew it," he said, his grin widening. "You two slept together."

Your mouth fell open, and you dropped your arms, an incredulous laugh escaping.

"Shut up," you muttered, taking a step forward, cheeks flushing.

Tommy laughed, as if this moment had been a long time coming. "I always knew it would happen," he said, his tone only half-joking. "Ever since Joel introduced you, I swear, the guy had heart eyes and all. Poor guy looked like he was about to carve your name into every tree from here to the city limits. It was almost embarrassing."

You shook your head, a pang of sadness pressing on your chest. "That’s not it, Tommy. That’s not… it’s not true."

He studied you, unconvinced, his brow furrowing slightly, though the amused glint remained in his eyes.

"Joel doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want… us," you continued, your voice quiet but certain. "And honestly, I don’t think I do either." The words tasted bitter even as you said them, yet you held his gaze, determined to mean it. "I think I might actually like Travis."

"I see." Tommy’s nod was slow, his eyes searching yours as if detecting the truth you weren’t quite hiding.

“Where is he?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and you almost wished you could take it back. You shouldn’t be concerned about where Joel was spending his nights. But curiosity itched at you, demanding answers.

Tommy hesitated, rubbing his hand over his mouth, glancing off as if debating whether to answer. The pause made you anxious, and you shifted under his gaze, feeling exposed. "He, um, he went to see—"

"Sienna," you finished, the name coming out like a blade you hadn’t prepared for. Tommy’s nod confirmed it, and you felt it cut a little deeper than you’d anticipated.

The thought of Joel being with her after being with you twisted something fierce and raw inside. Yet, a part of you was oddly grateful for the pain; it reminded you just how little he’d been affected by all of this, how seamlessly he’d returned to life as it had been. Why should he have changed anything for one night? That didn’t mean enough to make him reconsider Sienna, his plans, his life without you. It was unbearable and somehow clarifying.

With your voice steadier than you expected, you looked back at Tommy. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Come with me for a second." You spun on your heel, heading toward your house, and you heard Tommy’s footsteps fall into step behind you. Inside, you gestured for him to wait in the foyer, then climbed the stairs, your heart pounding. A rush of resentment, of something close to fury, washed over you. You had to rid yourself of everything that still held you back to him, everything he’d left behind.

When you came back down, you were carrying a box, simple and impersonal. Tommy glanced at it, lifting an eyebrow. "What’s that?"

"A couple of Joel’s things. Be a dear and save me the trip of bringing them back to him." You smiled tightly, the effort to stay composed nearly exhausting you.

Tommy laughed, clearly amused by the defiance in your expression.

"Yes, ma’am," he said with a grin, giving you a small salute as he took the box. You watched him step over the threshold, the box in his hands, feeling a strange mix of relief and something hollow.

"Thank you, Tommy," you said softly, closing the door as he left. Alone in the quiet of your house, your shoulders slumped, and all the strength you’d gathered felt like it was leaking away, leaving behind the ache of realization. Joel wasn’t just far from you; he was unreachable, a memory already fading, three weeks stretching like an eternity between you and the friend he’d once been.

*

Joel opened the door slowly, shoulders slumped, his gaze dropping to the floor before he even stepped inside. The house was dark and quiet, as if it were waiting for him to finally fill it. He glanced around the empty living room, feeling the stillness of the space, then checked the time on his wristwatch: 11 p.m. It felt later than that, somehow.

“Tommy?” he called, his voice breaking the silence as he moved into the kitchen, where he found his brother, casually leaning against the counter with a bowl of ice cream, looking like he’d been waiting all night.

“How was your night?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow, his tone almost amused, as if he were privy to some unspoken secret.

Joel exhaled, the kind of tired sigh that settled deep in his chest, and dropped heavily into one of the wooden chairs at the table. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, dragging it down over his mouth before resting it on the table, the weariness of the day palpable in the lines of his face. His eyes met Tommy’s probing gaze, and he tilted his head, frowning slightly.

“Fine,” he replied, his tone clipped and a little defensive. “How was Sarah?”

“She conked out right after dinner,” Tommy replied, a smirk beginning to play at the corners of his mouth, his eyes narrowing with that look of brotherly mischief. “And how was Sienna?”

Joel rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair, shaking his head as if he could shake off the whole conversation.

“Are you staying over?” he asked after a few beats, redirecting, his voice carefully casual.

Tommy chuckled. “Only if you, sir, will permit me,” he replied with a mock salute.

“Fine,” Joel muttered, getting up from his seat. “Do what you want, but don’t be a pain in my ass,” he added, half-serious, half-amused, as he walked over to the counter beside his brother.

He pulled open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. Tommy watched him, saying nothing, but his gaze lingered, curious, perceptive. Joel poured water into a glass, bringing it to his lips, pausing for a long drink before turning to face his brother. He could feel Tommy’s gaze boring into him, the silence thickening between them.

Joel looked up, his own gaze steady.

“What?” he asked, the word flat, all pretense of patience gone.

“Nothing,” Tommy said, drawing the word out, clearly testing the limits of Joel’s patience. Then, almost too casually, he tilted his chin toward a box resting by the wall across the kitchen.

Joel followed his gaze, his brow furrowing as he walked over. He lifted the box, feeling the weight of it in his hands, then set it down on the counter. With a cautious look at Tommy, he placed his hands on the lid, hesitating.

“What’s this?” he asked, a note of suspicion in his voice.

Tommy leaned back, watching him with a faint smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Your girl next door gave it to me,” he replied, each word almost too measured. “Said it was yours.”

For a few moments, Joel just stood there, as if frozen, processing Tommy’s words. He looked down, finally lifting the lid and peering inside. There, neatly folded, was his sweatshirt—the one he’d handed you one chilly evening when he picked you up from work. Beneath that was his old Pearl Jam t-shirt, the one you’d borrowed after a swim in his pool last summer. His favorite coffee mug sat tucked in the corner, along with a few CDs, a dog-eared paperback he’d loaned you weeks ago. Each item seemed to carry its own little echo of the time he’d spent with you.

After a few seconds, Joel placed the lid back on the box, sliding it away from him with a muted thud. He kept his expression steady, but his jaw was set, and his eyes remained fixed on the counter.

“When did she give it to you?” he asked, his voice strained but steady.

“A few moments ago,” Tommy said with a shrug, holding back a smirk as he noticed the tightness in Joel’s expression. “Saw her walking back from Dunn’s house, actually.”

Joel let out a dry, sardonic laugh, a smile twisted in disbelief. "Right. Of course."

"Actually," Tommy said, savoring another spoonful of ice cream, "he walked her to the door, all sweet-like. Gave her the whole mushy goodnight routine—kiss, movie shit." His gaze stayed fixed on the bowl, though Joel could see the glint of mischief there, Tommy barely holding back a grin.

Joel’s fingers drummed on the counter, his gaze hardening. “Good for her,” he muttered.

Tommy didn’t look up, just continued with his ice cream, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sure she looked that way to me.”

“Like I care,” Joel muttered, his gaze fixed hard on the box beside him, fingers curling against the edge as if steadying himself. “I can bet everything I’ve got she doesn’t even like him that much. That guy isn’t worth it, and she knows it.” 

Tommy’s mouth quirked with amusement as he leaned back against the counter.

“Too bad that’s not up to you,” he said, casually pushing Joel’s buttons, almost like he enjoyed watching his brother’s patience fray. “She looked happy. And for what it’s worth, in her own words, she does like him.” 

Joel’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Tommy, as if by sheer force he could undo his brother’s last statement. “Wait—you asked her? Tommy, you better not be going around—” 

“Relax,” Tommy cut in, hands raised in mock surrender, though there was still a hint of smugness in his expression. “We just had a small conversation, okay? Didn’t even mention you.” 

Joel let out a sharp, bitter laugh, though his face betrayed a flicker of something raw. His fingers tapped the box, restless and resentful, as if it were the box’s fault for bringing up everything he didn’t want to admit. Then, his voice low and clipped, he gestured to the countertop. “Clean this up when you’re done,” he said, his tone rough. “And don’t piss me off.” 

Without another word, Joel turned on his heel and headed for the stairs, each step heavy and quick, like he couldn’t get away fast enough. The tension in his back, the way his shoulders held too much weight, said enough. Who did Tommy think he was, coming in here with all that, telling him things he didn’t need to hear? He didn’t care about any of it. As far as he was concerned, you could date Travis, marry him if that’s what you wanted. None of it mattered to him. 

But as he climbed the stairs two at a time, his mind raced against his will. You’d been clear, hadn’t you? You didn’t want him in your life. No friendship, no connection, nothing. The words echoed, hollow and yet heavy. And as he reached the top of the stairs, he wondered how many more nights he’d have to wrestle with that idea, struggling to wrap his head around a life where you were nothing more than a memory he had to stop revisiting.

The sooner he accepted it, the easier it would be to see you with Travis, to manage the surge of irritation at the thought of his hands on you, to ignore the image of his arm slung casually around your shoulders. If he could accept it—if he��did accept it—it would get easier, right? At least that’s what he told himself. He didn’t care. Obviously, he didn’t care.

He didn’t care that you’d decided to shut him out. Didn’t care that you were so resolute about it, that you barely seemed to miss him. He certainly didn’t care that he’d rearranged his mornings and evenings so he wouldn’t have to see you by accident. It wasn’t as if he still glanced at your door every time he came home, half-hoping he’d see you there, offering a smile and some easy excuse to stay. No, he wasn’t dwelling on how long it had been since he’d heard your voice or felt the comfortable warmth of your hand against his. Nearly a month now. And he was perfectly fine with it, honestly. It didn’t bother him one bit.

So fine, in fact, that he ended things with Sienna over dinner without a moment’s hesitation. Her face had gone blank with surprise, but he’d brushed it off, even throwing in some lie about being “too busy” to make it work, anything to avoid her prying questions. She’d looked at him, confused but oddly resigned, as if she’d sensed his mind had been elsewhere for a while. He didn't care, he was fine with it.

But later that night,Travis Dunn had brought you to your door—walked you up, murmured something as he leaned close, maybe kissed you goodnight. Joel didn’t know the details, but the image of it burned into his mind anyway. He sat in his room alone, a bitter laugh escaping his throat, mocking himself for how easily he’d let the thought take root. You, wrapped up with Dunn. Pf.

In the darkness of his bedroom, Joel sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the empty space beside him, the silence amplifying every unspoken word, every unfulfilled touch. He was fine with it. Of course he was. He repeated it in his mind, willing himself to believe it, even as a hollow ache throbbed in his chest.

And as if the universe were doubling down on the irony, that night he dreamed of you.

-

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @cosmic006533-blog @doblasftcisco @maiyart @concrete-jungleeee @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @maryfanson @rosebuds-and-moonlight @the-universe-is-complicated @formulafun @chewie-bars @glizzymcguirex @pedroswife69 @ivoryandflame @dixonswingz @sarahhxx03 @mellymbee @dailyobsession @msmorningstaarr @mystickittytaco @xxreginaxx @marellabyr @spacegirl-3 @alrihhty @heheheilovepedro @svrgs-blog @94namkooksworld @puddles221b @cowboymcflurry @medusaandposeidonshead @stylesispunk @sweatpeakarolinaa @puddles221b @deansimpalagirl @jasminedragoon @lover-of-books-and-tea @whimsiwitchy @cuteanimalmama @theherothesavior @ivoryandflame @auteurdelabre

[httpiastri]

a quick snippet/teaser for the jeddah chapter!! <3 rlly wanted to write something quick abt him yesterday so i wrote this on the bus. hope you all have a lovely day and that you'll be sending all of your love to this cutie boy during the race 😚

(i needed someone to guide the reader for a sec so i used chris, i have no idea why. if don't know him then don't worry, he's not important for the story lol...)

series masterlist

you've never ever been to the ferrari paddock before, so as you stand in the middle of it, you have no idea where to go or what to do; this is completely new territory. thankfully, you got a vip-pass from ollie before he ran off for his pre-qualifying duties, so at least you have the privilege of looking like a fool inside of the paddock instead of right outside the doors.

a fool dressed in a red bull cap, even. great.

"you don't look like you belong here, miss," a voice rumbles from behind you. your heart stops in your chest, and you're ready to improvise an excuse or find an escape route when you turn around – but luckily, you're met with chris, ollie's manager, standing there.

"thank god you're here," you say, letting out a sigh of relief. "do you happen to know where ollie is?"

he nods, smiling. "he's borrowing carlos's room. it's right down the hall and to the left."

you quickly thank him, turning again and making your way down said hallway. the room is easy to find, the two big, red fives on the door sticking out among the white walls. you're glad to find it unlocked, but you still knock a few times before sticking your head inside.

"sweetheart? can i come in?"

ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. his eyes are stuck on the floor, but you take his silence as a yes.

"i got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "how are you doing?"

when he still doesn't answer, your heat rate picks up. is something really wrong?

you make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before.

not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year. once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.

"ollie, talk to me," you plead, biting back the pout that starts to form on your lips. it's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. not now, not when he needs you this much.

"i'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "i'm so nervous, i don't know what to do."

it's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. ollie, your usually so calm and collected boyfriend, is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. "i get that. one hundred percent. but," your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "this is your dream. it's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance."

ollie sighs, but nods. you're getting to him.

"and it's not just any car, it's a ferrari. do you realize how cool that is? do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" you smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous. "you would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"but what if i ruin it?" his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "what if i go out there and i'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've done by even putting me in the academy? what if-"

"it won't happen." his eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "you're too good to do that. you'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. it's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "i'll try my best to make you proud."

you pout. "i'll be proud even if you end up with a slower lap than your pole lap from yesterday."

a laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. his heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. but his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter.

he presses a long kiss to the crown of your head, arms squeezing you tight. "go out there and show them, baby," you tell him.

and so he does.

[seraphinitegames]

Hey, Mishka!!!

I've been replaying TWC over the last couple of months, and must say, it's been an entirely rejuvenating experience for me. Like, I was reading it the first time, although I've replayed the series quite too many (worrying number) of times already. And it still manages to amaze me, EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I've repeated this in the past, and I'll repeat it again. The Wayhaven Chronicles is a blessing for me and I'm sincerely thankful to have come across it when I did. And I'm grateful to you for making this lovely world a reality (and of course, the four beautiful vamps)! Really eager for Book 4 and have already player the demo; can say it's gonna be worth the wait. It every time is.

Replaying the series in the last few months, I had a certain uncontrollable urge to drop and ask a few questions to you. Apologize in advance for the long ask and message, but it had been bottling up inside of me for SOOOOOO LONG.

1. In Book 1, when we're to lead the investigation in one of the three directions, is there any way to get success in any direction without Bobby making a big joke out of our investigation in the newspaper?

2. In Book 2, when Nicole and Max Salinas come to report their incident, can Tina actually find out anything unusual? If so, what is actually needed to explain that?

3. In Book 3, I noticed if we choose to go the final mission alone, depending on the route chosen, Boddy/Doug will end up tagging along as well, jeopardizing everything. Is there still a way to complete the mission successfully and rescuing everyone like it happens when we go along with Rebecca?

4. Less of a question, but more of a plea. Please tell me we can get a pet anytime in the series. I was just curious if we can get one.

5. How powerful is the big baddie in Book 4 compared to Unit Bravo? You don't need to answer if this verges on spoiler-y territory.

Really sorry to overwhelm you with this, but it's just months and months of joy, happiness, and sheer ecstasy making me blabber on about this world like this. Thanks once again, for making this truly beautiful story, world, and the vampires a reality.

Have a good day!!!! Lots of love from India!!

You can never play a game you love too many times (I keep telling myself that as I gradually burn a hole into my poor old console playing Dragon Age over and over, lol!)! If it brings you happiness, then that's what is important! :D

Ok, let's see about the questions...it's been a whole since I've gone through the older games without being in editing mode, hehe!

I don't think so...Bobby is, well, Bobby. And that scene was there very much to establish their character and show the player what type of person they are.

I don't think so, again. If there's anything unusual or odd, then I usually like to let the MC find that instead of it happening 'off-screen' so it's more impactful for the player—unless it's Verda discovering stuff, because that needs to happen for…reasons.

Iirc, in the Bobby/Doug routes, you get the auction scene, so a lot of that branch involves focusing on saving yourself! But the other team that joins Unit Bravo will help in saving a lot of the captives in that version.

I would love that being a massive animal companion fan myself, hehe! But likely not, just because the MC is away a lot from home, and that's unfair on the pet, even a fictional one, lol. I was tempted to give the MC a supernatural pet that hung around at the facility—that was definitely a strong idea at one point just so I could write a pet in the series for those that wanted it (me, I was the one who wanted it, hehe!) :D

**BOOK FOUR DEMO SPOILERS AHEAD** It's not just that Book Four's villain is terrifyingly powerful (or will be. They are, thankfully for the MC and UB, in a weakened state for a while due to what's happened to them and what happened in Chapter Two) but it's a lot to do with the fact that their power specifically counteracts and weakens Unit Bravo's. So that's a double whammy!

Thank you SO incredibly much for the amazing message! It means more than you can know <3

[asuyaka]

Ok hear me out, Reader is besties with Gojo and Geto and was paired with them to deliver the Star Plasma Vessel(Riko) and Readers notices how the girl's passing seemed to take a toll on Geto the most, so after seeing his decreasing health, both physical and mental, they decided to reach out to him and pull him out of his dark thoughts. Yes I am in denial about the recent chapters, this is how I cope. This man deserves all the hugs in the world😭😭

★ - 'm totally agree! all Satoru had ta do was speak with Suguru 'n JJK probably wouldn't have happened !! <(＿　＿)>

☆ - Teen! Geto Suguru x Male Reader — Can be read as platonic or romantic !!

♡ - Hurt/comfort, suicidal thoughts, and Suguru bein' mildly racist towards non-sorcerers (；′⌒`)

The merging of the Star Plasma Vessel— Riko Amanai— and Tengen went to shit the second Fushiguro Toji came into the picture.

You tried, you tried saving her even though you were scared. No one could touch Satoru, but Toji could. Toji killed him and Riko like it was nothing.

You and Suguru weren't enough, he was too strong. When he killed Rainbow Dragon, Suguru's strongest curse, the reality set in that you two most likely weren't going to make it out alive.

You did, thankfully, but at what cost?

Your quaint little friend group broke up. Shoko was busy learning medical Jujutsu most of the time, Satoru had officially become the strongest and started taking solo missions which left you and Suguru.

But after that day, you noticed something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Suguru had lost weight, his hair which he prided himself in taking care of had split ends and was mildly greasy and he had eye bags.

This also added to the fact that he was coming late to class almost every day sent alarm bells in your head, so you decided to check up on him.

In your home clothes since you didn't have any impending missions and classes were over, you knocked on Suguru's door. He's stopped coming to class the past few days which scared the shit out of you since Suguru doesn't miss class unless it's something serious.

You waited, hoping to hear an answer. When you didn't, you checked the doorknob. It was open so you walked in, announcing yourself just in case Suguru was busy with something.

His room was a mess. The trash can was overflowing, clothes were piled up in a corner and dishes were stacked on the sink.

Suguru was curled up in his bed—which was also a mess, sheets that needed to be washed and his bed was in desperate need of a making— his blanket pulled up to his neck and his body facing away from the doorway.

"Suguru?" You whispered, checking his breathing just in case. It was there and stable, which meant he was just sleeping. You gently tapped on him, noticing the soft tear lines on his cheek.

He had cried himself to sleep.

Suguru stirred as his eyes opened slowly, blinking away the tiredness when he saw your concerned face. "[Name]..? What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you. You haven't been in class, so I got worried. Are you okay?"

Suguru sat up and rubbed his eyes. He didn't realize he'd been gone for that long, it felt better to stay asleep than wake up. Some days he wished he stayed asleep forever.

"Sorry, I lost track of time." He came up with a lie off the top of his head, hoping you wouldn't question anything and leave him alone.

He knows you though. Knows how empathetic you are, knows how caring you are to the people you love, so it was no surprise when you sat on his bed making yourself comfortable. "Are you okay, Suguru?"

"I told you, I just lost track of time—"

"Suguru..." Your voice was soft as you took his hands into yours. Usually, his were well-manicured and painted black, but now they were long. Suguru hated it when his nails were long, they always got in the way when he was fighting curses. "You don't have to lie to me, you don't have to say anything you don't want to. Please, just tell me if you need help and I'll help you. I won't ask for anything more."

Suguru tensed up. Does he need help? He hasn't felt like himself ever since... everything happened a few months ago. The world felt so grey and he couldn't think of a reason to keep waking up and getting out of bed.

So what if those monkeys needed saving? Sorcerers shouldn't have to put their lives on the line to save people who were barely worth saving.

He feels sluggish. He reeks, his hair feels so greasy and his eyes are heavy. He just wants to lie down and hopefully take his last breath. He can't keep doing this— be a sorcerer that is.

He hates morals, he hates that 'the strong should protect the weak' bullshit, he hates that he wasn't strong enough to protect someone who needed saving, someone who deserved it.

He's so tired. Tired of the Jujutsu world, tired of the fake lies of non-sorcerers, tired of everything.

"...please." He mutters out, his hands slightly squeezing yours and his head hanging in shame.

You nod as you help him up. You don't need to tell him anything right now. If he needs you, if he needs your help, that's all that matters.

You start a bath and help him get undressed, closing your eyes for the sake of his privacy when you got to his boxers.

The water was warm against your legs, and you thanked yourself that you wore shorts instead of sweats. You washed him, taking extra care of his hair to show him you remembered how much he loved it. Show him how much you care about him.

You leave him momentarily to grab clean clothes, settling on an old Mario shirt, black shorts, and a pair of fuzzy white and black socks.

"Do you want to stay here while I clean?" You asked as you tied his hair into a loose ponytail, the smell of his cinnamon shampoo in the air.

Suguru shook his head. He wanted—no— needed to stay close to you. To hold you, to feel someone else's warmth against his. You didn't ask any questions, letting him hold onto your waist as you went to make his bed.

He stayed like that, pressed against you as you sorted his clothes, cleaned his kitchen, swept his floor, helped him take care of his nails, and him made him food.

Suguru doesn't feel like he deserves this. He doesn't deserve you. You're being so patient with him, you aren't judging him for being messy or unclean, you weren't judging the fact that his fridge was almost empty, you were just there.

There for him, to make him feel better.

Suguru feels like he's going to cry.

He's pressed against your chest, hands wrapped around your waist as he listens to you read aloud a book you had brought with you, hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently.

"...thank you." He mumbles, wiping the wet away from his eyes. He feels so loved, like someone would care if he flat out died.

You smile softly, pressing a kiss against his head. "I'm always going to be here for you Suguru. No matter what."

And for the first time in months, he believes that it's worth it to live. That if he gets to feel you like this, he might stay in the Jujutsu world. All for you— everything for you.

[sixosix]

YOU GOTTA LEAVE BEFORE YOU GET LEFT | LYNEY

warnings profanity, angsty fighting (violence but it’s not descriptive), 3.7k words!

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The House of the Hearth is quiet around this hour, save for the soft snores coming from the rooms, or the clink-clink-clink of your polearm when hitting your arms. Lynette has already crashed somewhere, but Lyney can’t sleep a wink. At least, if you asked him what he’s doing in the training room alone watching you, that’s what he would say.

Thankfully, you haven’t asked; didn’t even acknowledge when he slipped into the room.

Lyney hasn’t been able to stop thinking about a few nights ago when he saw a glimpse of something real from you. Your smile and his newfound determination to defeat you to see more of it.

Sweat rolls off your temple, your breath visible in a silhouette of a misty cloud. You strike the air as if it’s insulted you greatly. With one final swing, you pause, turning to look at him.

Lyney can tell something is wrong. Your eyes are heavier; your movements are more sluggish than usual. This is the first time he’s seen you in a few days, with him going out for missions and coming back to hear that you’ve been cooped up in the training room day and night, frustration rolling off of you in waves.

Lyney smiles instead. “Would you like to spar?”

Your gaze is intense. Lyney could see a flame sparking in them when he asked you. But it fades when you ask, “Lyney, ‘Father’ has just returned yesterday, right? Has she talked to you at all?”

Lyney blinks. “Oh, um. No, I haven't really seen ‘Father’.”

Your shoulders loosen. “Alright.”

Then, you stand before him—all Lyney needs as an answer.

He’s gotten better with a bow, his only form of weapon during missions when they get a little more dangerous than prying information. But he only gets to feel the thrill of it when he’s facing you, who’s always one step ahead.

He bows. “It is an honor.”

Something of a smile flickers on your face when he looks back up. “You always say that whenever we do this.”

Lyney beams, pleased to hear you speak to him beyond anything related to training. “It’s no lie.”

“Then,” you twirl your polearm around in a hypnotizing circle, and Lyney feels a near-maniacal grin creep up his face, “overcome me.”

Lyney takes the first shot, no longer surprised when you barely flinch as you swerve. You move as swiftly as his arrows. He fires another shot, then another, and another at a rapid pace. As expected, you dodge and deflect all of them with ease. Even when not at your full best, you can easily conquer everyone.

But Lyney’s been watching closely. His eyes follow every shift, catching each minuscule movement of how you favor one side more than the other or how your eyes are fixed on his weapon and nothing else.

You start drawing closer, your steps so fluid that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it. Lyney conceals a smile.

Your eyes widen when Lyney disappears into a twirl of cards, fading out of view, disappearing into nothingness, just like that.

You pant, looking around warily, “How did you—” only for your breath to hitch when Lyney materializes right behind you, kicking your weapon off your staggered grip and aiming his arrow right at your head.

His eyes are narrowed as if facing a real enemy—as if preparing to actually shoot with one wrong move. But that’s not right, because how could Lyney ever bring himself to hurt you when you smile at him like that?

“That was…new,” you say, breathing heavily. Your exhaustion is getting to you now.

Lyney’s lungs are doing just as bad. “Thank you,” he manages to say, sensing a compliment when he hears one. “It’s only right for a magician to have tricks up his sleeves, right?”

He doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s taken advantage of your state. Had you not been visibly tired, you never would’ve fallen for his trick. It’s victory, but he doesn’t feel as if he’s really won.

Now that you admit defeat, Lyney says, “Let’s take a break.”

To his delight, you murmur a yes. Now that’s victory.

The orphanage has become used to the sight of the magician twins tailing after you, with Lyney grinning smugly and Lynette close behind because, really, her brother was just tagging along. And some other times, they’ve become used to the sight of Lynette curled up on the couch with Freminet resting his head on her lap while you yell at Lyney to piss off, and he doesn’t piss off.

You’ve even come to admit them as friends. Mostly Lynette, though. Lyney’s just there because they’re twins.

Lyney pouts. “I mean, we’re basically friends now, right?”

You send him a strange look. “What are you talking about? No, we’re not.”

“Whaaat?”

You push his face away when he’s decided to come up all over your personal space. “I like your sister better.”

“Lynette and I are twins!” he whines.

“Completely different people, still.”

Lynette does a mischievous half-smile, blinking slowly. “Don’t tease him too much,” she said. “He’ll cry when it comes to you.”

Lyney splutters. “Lynette!”

Thankfully, the Archons are on his side. You don’t look too deeply into Lynette’s words, simply laughing and returning back to your food, chatting comfortably with his sister and Freminet. Despite all the bickering, Lyney feels warm inside.

“Lyney,” you say, catching his gaze. “Do you want to spar later?”

Lyney’s heart soars. “Yes, of course.”

In the comfort of their own room, Lynette strikes.

“Y/N is really nice,” Lynette says when Lyney is practicing tricks with his hat. “You think so, too, right?”

Lyney doesn’t know where this is going. He fumbles with the rose. “Mhm. Yeah.”

Tonight is particularly cold; the old-fashioned fireplace is barely doing anything. Lyney wants to check on the training room—it’s always much warmer there.

Lynette shifts beside him, and Lyney can feel the weight of her infinitely keen stare. “And you also think that you should tell me who you’re practicing those flowers for, right?”

“I—what—” Lyney’s face goes hot. “It’s for my tricks, Lynette! What are you trying to imply?”

His sister sniffs, as if Lyney is just an insignificant little thing. “I don’t know what you and Y/N have been doing lately, but I'm happy to see you happy.”

Lynette smiles at him. “I haven’t seen you like this for so long. I’ll do my best to not let anything take this away from you.”

Speechless, Lyney could only utter: “Lynette…”

In all honesty, Lyney doesn’t know what changed—doesn’t know how it shifted into something else he can’t quite put a finger on. Maybe it’s the fact that he and his sister have a home now, despite the fact that it’s an intelligence source for the Harbingers. Or maybe it’s…something deeper than that, something to do with you.

“It’s really nothing,” Lyney says softly. “You don’t have to do anything, okay? I promise you.”

Lynette nods, trusting her brother easily. “Okay. I just don’t want you to lose this.”

Ha, as if he could even bring himself to do that.

“Hey, is Lyney in this room?” someone yells, rapping on the door frantically. “Father’s looking for Lyney. Is Lynette here?”

“What…?” Lyney mumbles, turning to the window and belatedly noticing sunlight peeking through from the sides of the curtains. “Oh no. I didn’t get any sleep.”

“And ‘Father’ is looking for you,” Lynette says, amused. “Go, Lyney. Shoo.”

Lyney scurries off and nods politely at the person who had summoned him. He pads over to the dining table, where ‘Father’ is always waiting, desserts laid before her.

“Lyney,” she greets. Lyney felt the hair rise on the back of his neck, but also warmth spread throughout his chest, happy to see the person who had changed his and his sister’s life. “Come. Would you like a plate?”

Eating something sugary while he lacks sleep is not the brightest idea. “No, thank you, ‘Father’.”

“Alright,” she says lightly, taking a bite and indulging in her cake for a long pause. “You’ve been training hard, haven’t you?”

“Yes, ‘Father’.” He sits somewhere that’s a chair away from her, too nervous to sit close and too afraid to sit too far. He still doesn’t know what ‘Father’ thinks of him, or what to think of ‘Father’.

“And you’ve gotten stronger since receiving your Vision.” It sounds like a question, but that’s not right. ‘Father’ always knows what’s happening in the House of the Hearth.

“…Yes,” Lyney says slowly, unsure where this is heading.

Arlecchino leans back, pleased. “Hm. Good.”

Lyney isn’t quite sure what’s happening, but she asks about how he and his sister are doing, and they get involved in an almost-something-of-a casual conversation. Lyney’s nerves are on high alert the entire time, as if suspecting that this is a test. But after that, ‘Father’ dismisses him before Lyney can start being suspicious.

He doesn’t think too much of it. He leaves the room and feels as if he could melt on the floor from exhaustion.

Someone sees him and claps him on the back, startling him enough to wake him up. She glances at the door he just came out of and hums lowly. “Did ‘Father’ call for you?”

“Yes.”

“Ha,” she snorts. “Guess that’ll happen a lot when you're the next successor, huh? Lucky you.”

“Yeah,” Lyney agrees, though he doesn’t really know what it means. He doesn’t really care because at least ‘Father’ still wants to keep them around.

Most importantly of all, in this orphanage, Lyney has been having the time of his life. His sparring with you has led him to a tentative friendship of sorts. He can confidently say he knows you as well as he knows Lynette and Freminet. He’s been living in bliss, always pleased to have a home and a family to come back to, no matter how gruesome the mission they’re sent to.

He and Lynette have been seeing the House off with missions successfully fulfilled, and ‘Father’ has acknowledged their loyalty. Their worth. Whispers about successors get louder. Lyney pays them no mind—this is only them acknowledging his worth.

Days would pass. Lyney would perform tricks for his fellow orphans. Lynette would tell him that she’d rather not be in the spotlight. Days would pass. You would keep on overworking yourself, and Lyney would try to pull you away from it.

“Y/N,” Lyney announces his presence with just your name, standing by the doorway.

You don’t flinch nor even waver from your moves, nearly dancing with how swiftly you move across the grassy field. It’s easier to talk over the slash over your weapon this time, at least, with the sounds spreading across the evening air. Lyney can shout and he doesn’t have to fear waking up anyone.

He has to wake you up first, though.

“Y/N,” he tries again, his fingertips beginning to burn underneath the steaming plate. Despite his connection with fire, his skin is beginning to feel irritated—or perhaps it’s proof of how long he’s been carrying your dinner. “Your food’s gonna get cold.”

“Leave it there,” you finally answer, slowing to a halt. Your back is facing him, posture perfect, and Lyney’s star-struck even in moments like this.

“And you’re going to eat it?”

“I will.”

That’s what you said last time, and Lyney came back to a full plate, untouched even by ants. Lyney decides to stay, content with watching over you until you tire and give in. He’s been hearing that you’re relentless, not even sparing a single glance to anyone.

“Why have you been practicing so hard recently? Is ‘Father’ punishing you? Did you sneak out again?”

You deign to face him with a fierceness that could match the fire of his Vision. “As if ‘Father’ has even looked at me.”

Lyney blinks slowly. “...What?”

Then—it was that moment that Lyney realized this was more serious than he realized—you school your expression into something blank. He was asking the wrong questions. He feels like there’s an invisible wall between the two of you, even when he’s already far away.

“You all have something I don’t,” you say, lowering your weapon. “Tell me, Lyney, if I start slacking off, will she even look at me the way she does to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Your expression grows colder. “You wouldn’t understand. Who am I kidding? Just leave the food; I’ll eat it.”

“How do I know that?” he asks weakly.

“Take the hint, Lyney. I want to be alone right now.”

Days would pass. Lyney gets busier—his life gets more hectic. He starts performing on stages, small ones, but stages with props galore nonetheless. Lynette starts to feel more confident joining him, but she still has to work on her expressions. Days would pass. Lyney sees you less often. Your thread is snapping.

He enters the training room, where it’s been eerily silent. Not even Freminet nor Lynette tried to train today as if sensing danger from inside. But all he sees inside is you, staring silently at the wall, heaving.

Lyney sees your state and winces, your shoulder hiked to your ears and your expression unpleasant. “Y/N,” he calls out softly, “Are you okay?”

You’re really not, and it’s obvious, but how else does Lyney approach this?

You take a too-long moment to respond, eyes distant. “I’m…fine.”

Lyney hesitates, wildly looking around the room for something to distract you with. “Do you want to spar?”

“No.”

He should’ve known the moment he noticed you were acting strange: there’s something bothering you enough to leave you trapped in the training room. He tries to think hard about it, looking back at the first moment you were acting off. He comes up with nothing.

“Lyney,” you say, “you should leave.”

“No,” he says firmly. “I’m not leaving if you’re going to keep this up.”

“Lyney,” you say, facing him fully with a scowl. “That was not a question. Leave.”

“Y/N, I…” Lyney thinks and thinks. What has been happening recently? He’s been sent off for missions far too often that he hasn’t been able to notice this sooner. How long has this been happening? Why is this happening?

If anything, you’re far too prideful to show your weakness. To break down like this so suddenly… How will ‘Father’ react to this? Surely, she would put a stop to it if you were always next to her. But he hasn’t seen you next to ‘Father’ in so long. In fact, he’s…

Lyney stares cautiously. “Are their words bothering you?”

“They’re always talking.” That’s not a yes, but Lyney feels like he should take it as one. “Lately, they’ve been talking much louder than before.”

“That’s it, isn’t it? It’s about ‘Father’’s successor?”

Your mouth curls up in a snarl. “Don’t rub it in my face. You, of all people, shouldn’t ask that to me.”

Lyney’s heart sinks. So it was him who was causing this. “Whatever you’re hearing isn’t true.”

“What? Don’t make me out to be so stupid. You spar with me to gauge my weaknesses. You want to become the next successor.”

“I don’t want to become the next anything,” he pleads, instinctively taking a step back when you inch closer.

“That’s what it is, right? You see me as a challenge? So that’s what you meant?” Something is terribly wrong. You’re looking in his direction, but he doesn’t feel the weight of your gaze—like you’re only seeing through him.

Lyney frowns. He’s being cornered. “No, what—”

“I changed my mind,” you say, your shoulders tensing and the grip on your weapon tightening until your knuckles turn white. “You don’t want to leave? Fight me. Now. Prove that you’re worth more than me.”

“Y/N,” Lyney says lowly. “You’re not thinking straight right now. I don’t want to—”

You strike at his side. Lyney only manages to block it because of his experience with close combat from you, but this one is different. His eyes widen. That one hurt bad, leaving a buzzing ache on his skin. That’ll leave a bruise that won’t leave for weeks.

“Fight me,” you whisper, desperate, crazed. “Fight me.”

You demand it, but you don’t give Lyney a chance to react, attacking once again. Lyney blocks it off with his body and bites down a whimper of pain at the impact; at what sounded like the crack of bones.

“Y/N, stop—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl. “Bring out your weapon. Fight me. You’re the next successor, aren’t you?”

“Y/N,” Lyney says, trying to get a hold of your wrists. “Y/N, you’re crying.”

“I’m—” You inhale sharply, a sob wracking through your shoulders. “Shut up. Stop talking. You don’t know what’s happening. Fight me—just fight me. Why aren’t you fighting back?”

Lyney hates that you’re right—he doesn’t know what’s happening. He feels entirely useless. The person he looks up to, who has made him the better version of himself, and made him want to excel in everything he does for praise, is losing her mind right in front of him—he can’t even give you what you want.

“Why aren’t you fighting back? Isn’t this what you wanted?!”

“I didn’t want this!” Lyney shouts, moving swiftly to dodge the swing of your polearm. It misses him by a hair's breadth. Your fervid cries are making him lose composure. He doesn’t know what to do—doesn’t know how to make you stop.

“Pathetic,” you say, knocking him down. “This is who they’re calling the next successor? Beaten by someone who doesn’t have a Vision.”

Visions. Lyney learned that oftentimes, they dictate the fate and the potential of the orphans here. Those with Visions are sent off on more dangerous missions, drastically stretching their capabilities. And it’s true���Lyney wasn’t allowed to join Lynette on missions when she was the first to get one out of the two of them.

“You are still weak.”

“Shut up,” Lyney says, forcing bile down his throat. He doesn’t want to believe it. He wants to convince himself that you don’t mean that, but that means nothing if he thinks it, too. “Visions mean nothing.”

“To you, they don’t!”

Then, to Lyney’s horror, you swerve your entire body and strike to attack him with your everything. The bruises all over his skin sting, and his brain chants danger, danger. He panics, forcing a wave of fire to crash over and protect himself, but blue washes over his vision for a split second, and then he’s face to face with a tsunami of ice.

Ice.

Lyney blinks once, then looks down at his arm and realizes it’s been frozen over. It’s covered in ice, extinguishing the fire that’s enveloped his skin.

“What…?” he says dumbly, more confused than anything.

He turns back to you and sees you shaking uncontrollably, clutching a Cryo Vision to your chest. You’re looking at it as if it’ll bite you.

“No, no…” You look back at Lyney, eyes round. “Lyney—”

His eyes widened. “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I attacked you—you were just defending yourself—”

“Don’t console me, you idiot! I don’t know how to—get it off—” You cry out, roughly wiping away tears that are trickling down. The frost is creeping up on your face, turning your lips to blue. “Get away from me…!”

The numbness is getting to his arm, and he’ll probably get hypothermia if he keeps on ignoring it, but he can’t bring himself to do anything when you’re wailing and terrified of your own self.

Lyney’s hands hover around you, unsure if he should touch you and risk it. “It’s okay, I promise, just—just breathe—”

You slap his hand away, crumbling even more at the sight of his frozen arm.

“Y/N,” he breathes.

Then, your face is carefully blank, shutting him off—worse than any wall of ice. Then, you snatch your polearm from the ground and scramble away. Lyney rushes to follow after, but you’ve flicked your hand, and the door is blocked off by a thick wall of ice. Great. Just great.

Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.

“Fuck!” Lyney hisses, throwing his bow to the ground, causing it to crack and splinter against the cold tiles.

“Calm down,” he says to himself, thawing his arm with his Pyro. The sudden change in temperature hurts, but that doesn’t compare to what he’s feeling right now. “Y/N will be back. Calm down. Patience.”

It’s pouring uncontrollably outside. You shiver, shaking with each desperate step you take to get far, far away from the orphanage—from Lyney. The rain has melted the ice that’s crawling all over your face and fingers, but you can still feel it humming under your skin as if one wrong move and you’d kill something.

How ironic. Goading Lyney into using his Vision led to you getting yours. What a fucking joke.

You navigate through the crowd, hiding your Vision and speeding through. The gods have perceived you and blessed you because you’re worthy. Why only now? Why is it that it’s only when you’ve accepted you’re not worthy compared to Lyney?

You are still weak. You said it aloud, but you know more than anyone that it was not meant for Lyney.

A door swing opens, and you nearly slam onto it, if not for you skidding to a halt a second off.

The woman with brown locks and bright eyes who opened the door blinked curiously. “Hey, kid. What are you doing out here in this thunderstorm?”

You must look like a sight. Bruised and freezing, as flighty as a frightened animal. “I—U-Uhm…”

You’re given no script to follow this time. What should you say? What do you do?

You can feel all your limbs trembling. No—you can barely feel at all. “I’m fine. Miss. I was just… playing. I mean, running back home.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, taking it upon herself to ruin her dry dress and usher you inside. “Don’t worry. Come. Seek shelter here while waiting for it to die down.”

“I’m fine,” you try to say, but the inviting warmth inside has your next words dying. “You don’t have to do this, miss… I’m…”

Dangerous. Nearly killed the person that warmed his way through your heart. You frightened him. You frighten yourself.

“None of that.” She pokes your forehead, making you blink up at her in bewilderment. “You think too hard for your age. Come, I have tea and spare clothes.”

You obediently sit. Perhaps tea will help. With how tight you’re clutching your Vision, its frost is beginning to crawl up your arms.

i found it rly interesting lyney doesn’t wanna become the next successor, so i used it for plot! >:) ty for reading!!! if u reached all the way here im giving u a kiss on ur forehead

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz 

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: explicit language, pet names, mentions of your past trauma, mentions of rape, fluff (I think that's it?)

WC: 5209

Chapter 9

(Day 12 with Greenridge)

It had been a week since you finally began to nest. You’ve changed your room around three times since then but you finally have it the way you like… you think…

You were, however, settling in nicely. You’re getting used to being around all the boys and find yourself more comfortable around them. While you haven’t initiated any type of physical contact, you’ve allowed them to be more touchy with you. Sure you still flinch here and there but you’re also instantly melting into their touch. Never mind the fact that now you seem to crave their company. You spend as much time as you can with at least one of them, only alone when sleeping, getting ready for the day, or getting ready for bed.

Jeongin’s rut lasted the whole five days, which was new to him. He thanked everyone for their help, everyone having pitched in at least once to help out. While he did get through it, he believes it lasted the whole five days because his body didn’t get what it was craving - you.

He came back a few days ago, avoiding you at first to freshen up. He had spent the morning with Hyunjin straightening up the rut house. Things were back where they went, dishes returned, fridge restocked, and sheets changed. Jeongin took his time getting dressed, worried how he would react upon seeing you - worried you would go off on him even though Chan said you were ‘surprisingly understanding’.

He definitely didn’t expect you to come knocking on his door and hand him a plate of brownies.

“I made them myself.” you had said, a big smile on your face.

He looked warily at them.

“It’s Felix’s recipe. I didn’t poison them. It’s a peace offering.”

He smiled, taking the plate and eating one (four actually). You giggled as he kept eating them, Hyunjin eventually snatching the plate away. He was happy you were okay with him, although he felt so detached seeing how close you were with everyone else. He had to make up for lost time.

So for the past couple days, if he wasn’t training, he was hanging out with you. You didn’t mind. In fact, you grew quite fond of the little alpha. And in no time, it was like he had been there all along and not isolated away.

No more members of the Nykos had shown up, thankfully. At first Chan didn’t tell you, afraid to upset you and make you worry. But he also didn’t want to keep secrets from you. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he was relieved or more worried without their visits but as far as he knew, they didn’t know you were here. Of course it wouldn’t be surprising if they somehow did. 

Chan thought it best to increase his numbers while he could and had gone to some of the neighboring packs to bring more allies to his side, should a fight ensue. He knew a few packs that hated the Nykos and refused to submit to their rule - going to them first. In no time he gained twenty new men - one of the packs had thirteen members, the other only seven. Today he was going to go to the pack the farthest away. It was going to be a toss up whether they agree to help since they usually stay out of the drama between the younger packs. But with age comes wisdom and strength, and Chan wanted that on his side.

“Minho, do you need anything before we leave? We should only be gone overnight.” Chan asked, flanked by Jisung and Hyunjin.

“I think we’re good. Don’t worry about us. We got this. Go get us more people.” Minho said with a nod.

“Alpha Jaebeom will hopefully agree to help us. He’s an old friend of Alpha Seungcheol, so I’m having him meet us there.” Chan informed.

“Okay. I have Alpha Jungwon’s number if I need to call him.”

“Seungcheol is bringing a couple of his with him too so call Wonwoo if you need the pack.”

“I got it. Now go.” Minho practically pushed him out of the kitchen.

Chan looked over to where you were sitting on the island, your lips turned to a pout and eyes sad.

“Don’t worry, baby.” He said, coming over and kissing you on the forehead. “We will be back as soon as possible. No one is going to get you while I’m away.”

You nod, forcing a smile. He pulled you into a hug.

“That’s my girl. So brave and strong.” Pulling back, his thumb grazed your cheek as he cupped your face.

“Alright. See everyone tomorrow.” Chan waved, kissing Minho goodbye. 

Felix of course ran over to get his goodbye kiss from the three of them, and then they were gone. You hadn’t even properly kissed any of them yet and you wondered who would be the first. 

Suddenly, you knew who. And you didn’t want to wait. Taking off, you swing open the garage door and hurried over to the car, Chan backing out. He gets out of the garage, stopping when he sees you running over. He rolls down the window, worried. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Before you can talk yourself out of it or get nervous, you lean into the window and smash your lips on his. He’s taken back, but soon his lips move with yours. Your whole body feels like it's thrumming with electricity. Butterflies in your stomach and for the first time, you feel… alive. You’ve never felt this good, feeling your bond growing stronger by the second. His hand is resting on your cheek as he deepens the kiss.

Someone clearing their throat brings you both back to reality and you pull away, biting your lip.

“Drive safe.” you say, staring deep into his eyes.

“I will.”

“Where’s my goodbye kiss?” Hyunjin asks, leaning over from the passenger side with a pout.

“Me too.” Jisung rolls down his window, puckering his lips at you.

You blush, hiding your face.

“You better come back home if you want a kiss.” You say, scurrying back inside the house.

Chan had the biggest grin plastered on his face the majority of the drive, high off your initiated affection and feeling closer to you. He also liked that it was just him that you had kissed, however selfish that made him. He couldn’t wait to get back home and do it again.

Minho smirked at you, clearly knowing what just happened, as you walked through the garage door. You avoided his gaze, the others clearly oblivious as they were watching TV in the living room. You went to the barstool and sat next to Minho.

“So if you’re Chan’s right hand man…aren’t you supposed to go to important meetings like this?” you question.

Minho turns to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he smiles.

“Normally I do. Changbin too since he’s the head beta. But with you here, Chan wants the next strongest in the pack with you while he’s away….given the circumstances.” Minho explains.

Of course he was still protecting you even while away. He had been doing it from the start - the whole time you had been here, Changbin or Minho was always with you if Chan wasn’t. It made so much sense now. 

You went over and opened the pantry, browsing for a snack. You finally found one you liked and grabbed it. You stepped back to close the door, only to have the snack snatched from your hand.

“Hey!” you exclaimed.

Your snack thief was Seungmin.

He giggled as he moved away. But you weren’t having it. You began to chase him around the island, demanding he give it back. Of course he opened it and began eating it.

“That was the last one!” You complain.

Seungmin froze, looking at you pouting. “Really?”

You nod. 

“Fine. You can have it.” Seungmin gave it back, kissing you on the cheek.

“Chan just bought a new pack yesterday.” Minho noted.

You glared at him, peeking at Seungmin as he realized you tricked him. Your grip on the snack bag tightened as you squealed when Seungmin lunged at you. He just missed you but quickly made up for it. He scooped you up, making you giggle.

“You lied to me, darling” He feigns shock. “You’re a little trickster.”

You giggle. “Put me down.”

“Nope.” Seungmin walked over and dropped you on the couch, hopping over the back to sit next to you. You collected yourself, dramatically eating the snack in front of him. He just smiled at you, enjoying this moment. 

It was late afternoon, the six of you watching the k-drama Vincenzo, when Changbin paused it.

“Hey!” Everyone whined.

“We all need to get off the couch. We’ve been sitting here for the past two days. Everyone needs to go for a run.”

The boys groaned, definitely not in the mood to go for a run. You didn’t want to either - you wanted to finish the show since you were so into it. 

“Yah! Do you wanna be in fighting shape or not? I’m sure the Nykos and their allies aren’t sitting on their asses.” Changbin argued.

You swallowed thickly - they most certainly weren’t. You had hardly ever seen them watching tv. They were always on the move doing this or that. It was like they never took a day off. So it’s safe to say now they have more of a reason to not sit idle.

“You heard him. Get up!” Minho demanded.

They all groaned and got up, going upstairs to get dressed in some exercise clothes. You went too, going to get dressed as well. It wasn’t your first training session with Changbin but you were still sore from the weight training the other day. The day before that, he had you working on cardio.

Your body was not used to all the physical activity, but it also felt better - like your body was thriving off it. It was exhilarating. Plus you liked spending time with Changbin and staring at his muscles.

Changbin made each of them run two miles on the property while he brought you into the little gym for some strength training. Minho was upstairs, being on guard while everyone was busy (he would work out after).

Changbin started you with small weights, having you do reps to strengthen your arms, abs, and legs. You held the weights at your ears, squatting, and when you stood you raised the weights over your head. You did fifteen reps of that three times. He also had you do lunges, squats and situps too.

Everyone finished running and Changbin instructed them on their own version of strength training as you finished up. Panting, you lay on the floor as your body aches. 

“Running time.” Changbin says. 

“I can’t run two miles!” you exclaimed.

“I know. But we are going to have you run for a bit. Now come on.” Changbin insisted.

He gave instructions to everyone else to finish off their workouts. Then after they would do some sparring. Then he dragged you outside and started a timer on his watch.

“Ready? Go.” 

You began jogging, Changbin at your side. You took the trail on the west side of the property, keeping away from the Nyko border. You didn’t know how long he was going to make you run but he was keeping pace with you, even though you knew he was much faster. You stole a glance at him, smirking. 

Suddenly you push your legs faster, now sprinting as you initiate a race. Changbin chuckles and speeds up, catching up easily and passing you. You dash through the brush on the side, taking a shortcut Jisung had shown you and come out in front of him once more.

“Cheater!” he called out, moving impossibly faster to catch up to you yet again.

You smiled, the wind in your face and the earth beneath your feet. Running was so freeing to you, that you loved it despite the groans you give Changbin about it every time. Maybe it was because you’d been locked in a cage the majority of your life. But this…this was so freeing and didn’t want to lose it.

Changbin called out to you, but you didn’t hear him. You were too lost in the euphoric feeling as the sun shined down on you. You jogged through the trees, darting over branches and bushes, falling logs, and the small creek. You were getting stronger and faster. You could feel it. You didn’t run this fast when the brothers hunted you. But then again, maybe you didn’t because you wanted them to end your suffering.

“Y/N!” Changbin said, cutting you off.

He caught you before you bumped into him, spinning you around. His hands were around your waist, your faces close enough to each other you could kiss. He placed you down, you both panting and catching your breath.

“You’ve gotten so fast in the past couple days.” Changbin noted.

You were too out of breath to talk, exhilarated from the run. You could feel the slight pressure he had as he held you by the waist, your skin feeling tingly. Blushing, you step back and he drops his hands.

“We should head back.” you say between breaths.

“Can I kiss you?” Changbin blurted out.

“What?” you asked, not sure you heard him right over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“I know you kissed Chan. I figured you would want the alphas to be first, so it’s okay if you say no. I won’t be offended, but I just… I can feel the bond between us getting stronger. And I don’t know if you c-” Changbin rambled.

“Kiss me.” You cut him off.

Changbin froze, looking into your eyes.

You stepped forward, bodies pressed together, and whispered, “Kiss me, Changbin.”

He pressed his lips to yours, softer than you thought he would, and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pressed your body into his, as your lips moved in sync with each other. It felt like another puzzle piece of the bond clicked into place, strengthening what you already knew was there. 

His tongue swiped across your lips, pleading for them to part. You did so, allowing your tongues to dance together as your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips were soft, his body firm against yours. He made you feel so safe - your own bodyguard.

Breaking away, you two caught your breaths. Changbin knew if he didn’t stop himself, he would take you right here in the woods. But he also knew you weren’t ready for that, so he released you. You cleared your throat, wiping your palms on your pants. Your body felt like it was on fire, craving more of the affection. You didn’t want to stop but you knew it was for the best.

“Race you home?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re on.” Changbin said.

With that, you both took off, Changbin letting you win. The boys greeted you, stopping their sparring.

“Tomorrow, you’re gonna learn some sparring.” Changbin says.

Your eyes go wide. You’re excited to be included in all the things they do, treated equally, but the thought also scares you. You were definitely going to get your ass beat.

The drive to the Ahgase pack took a few hours but they finally made it. It was early evening and they were expecting them for dinner. Seungcheol had already arrived but was waiting for Chan to arrive before heading inside.

“Alpha Chan. Good to see you.” Seungcheol shook his hand, bringing him into a hug.

“You too Alpha Seungcheol.” Chan smiled. “Uh, these are my betas Hyunjin and Jisung.”

The two betas bowed towards Seungcheol.

“Minho must be on omega duty.” Seungcheol laughed.

Chan nodded, smiling.

“This is my Alpha Joshua and Head Beta Woozi.” Seungcheol introduced.

Joshua bowed his head, same as Chan, and Woozi bowed fully as did Hyunjin and Jisung.

“Shall we go in?” Seungcheol gestured towards the front door, allowing Chan to lead the way.

“You think we can convince them?” Chan spoke in a low voice to Seungcheol.

“He’s gonna play hard to get, but I believe you can.” Seungcheol gave him a reassuring smile.

Chan rang the doorbell, taking a breath and collecting himself. The door swung open, an attractive male answering. He smiled, stepping aside to let them enter. Chan could smell him in the breeze - beta.

“Welcome. I’m beta Jackson.” he introduced once everyone was inside.

They all slipped off their shoes and proceeded inside, following Jackson through the house. It was an immaculate house - definitely of old money. There was so much ornate detail in the railings of the stairs and balcony, and even in the crown molding. There were statues and figurines on display worth more than the Greenridge house. 

The house was modernized and tastefully done. It held the true character it had developed with time, but still was up to date. Chan was in awe at the place, hoping one day to move his pack into a house like that. He knew you would love it and wished you could see it.

“Welcome.” A male voice spoke, emerging from the kitchen on the right. “Seungcheol, good to see you.”

“Likewise. It’s been too long.” Seungcheol hugged his old friend. “Jae, I would like to introduce you to my good friends from the Greenridge pack. Alpha Chan and his two betas Hyunjin and Jisung.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Jaebeom offered his hand. 

Chan took it, shaking it as he bowed.

“Are you a pack of only one alpha?” Jaebeom asked.

A few others emerged, flanking Jaebeom.

“No. I have two other alphas, one of which just recently presented.”

“Ah, I bet he keeps you busy.”

“Yes.” Chan laughs nervously.

“This is my alpha, Mark. And you met my beta Jackson. This is one of my other betas Jinyoung.” Jaeboem introduced the people behind him.

All six of them bowed, showing respect for the older pack.

“Shall we eat? Dinner is currently being served.” Jaebeom clapped his hands together.

“Please, I’m starving.” Jisung blurted out, earning a glare from Chan.

Jaebeom laughed. “I like him.”

They followed them into the dining room, a huge live edge oak table in the center of it. There were fourteen upholstered chairs in a merlot velvet with wooden legs. They had tall backs, two seam lines going down the inside. The walls were paneling painted in a deep olive green, windows on one side overlooking the backyard just as luxurious as the house. The wall opposite of the windows held a rectangular mirror the length of the table, two china cabinets on each end displaying exquisite china.

The table was fully set for a six course meal, a few wine bottles at each end. The centerpiece was an overflow of flowers, some drooping white fillers, tall grass, stems of lavender, bushels of moss looking foliage and dahlias the color of the seats.

Suddenly, Chan felt they were very underdressed. Not that the Ahgase members were dressed formally - they were just as casual. Chan was sitting next to Jaebeom, who was at the head of the table, opposite of Seungcheol. Hyunjin, Jisung, Joshua, and Woozi were mixed in with Jaebeom’s pack at the table.

“Please, sit.” Jaebeom instructed as a butler pulled out his chair.

Jaebeom sat, placing his napkin on his lap. Everyone pulled out their chairs and sat, except for Seungcheol and Chan who had their chairs pulled out for them by Jaebeom’s employees.

Before Chan could get a word out, a few employees exited the kitchen carrying little plates. They all stood behind each chair, waiting for everyone to be in position before leaning around the person’s right to place the plate down.

“Thank you.” Chan said, slightly bowing at the woman.

Everyone began eating, small chatter starting towards the opposite end of the table. It was an amuse bouche of smoked salmon and cream cheese with diced cucumber on a two-bite sized slice of toasted french baguette.

“So Jaebeom..” Chan began. “We came here to-”

Jaebeom raised his hand to Chan. “Let’s enjoy dinner first. Then we can talk business, yeah?”

“Of course.” Chan nodded.

He was impatient of course, but he had to play along and prove himself if he wanted to be taken seriously.

Dinner was four courses and dessert. After the amuse bouche was a garden salad with the best dressing Chan and Hyunjin had ever tasted. But Jisung wasn’t the biggest fan. After that was a small plate of chicken and gnocchi in a creamy red chili basil sauce. It was heaven and Jisung wanted a whole plate to take home. Jinyoung assured him he would share the recipe, which Jisung said he would have Minho make.

The final entree was a plate of Brown sugar dijon glazed pork medallions on a bed of grilled asparagus and red skinned mashed potatoes. Hyunjin’s mouth was watering just looking at it. It was paired with a delicious red wine that complemented the pork beautifully. They dug in eagerly, enjoying every bite of it.

Small talk went around the table, even between Chan and Jaebeom, but the important topic was left till later.

“We have a few minutes before dessert…” Jaebeom spoke. “I hear you’re looking for help regarding the Nyko pack. Seungcheol was vague in his explanations but why would you pick a fight with them?” 

“I thought there was an agreement between the two packs.” Mark spoke.

“Yes. We do have one, which unfortunately I think I may have broken.”

“You broke the agreement and now you want us to help you?” Jaebeom quirked an eyebrow, looking at Seungcheol who smiled sheepishly.

“It’s not like that. I didn’t break it intentionally or maliciously. A young omega showed up on our territory. She was injured and unconscious, nevermind underweight and malnourished. They were abusing her.”

Jaebeom shifted in his seat, eyes flicking to the members of his pack as they all were on the edge of their seats. They had a few omegas in their own pack and they knew how valuable and precious they were. To hear of one being abused and unloved was…unsettling to say the least.

“I guess the rumors are true.” Jinyoung muttered.

“What rumors?” Seungcheol asked.

“I’ve heard Lewis was an…unfair and abusive leader. There’s no proof so the higher ups never do anything. You know they don’t like to get involved unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Y/n says there’s two other omegas still there.” Hyunjin added.

“So what’s your plan? Invade their territory, kill them all and rescue the omegas?

“More or less.” Chan shrugged. “I can’t stand around and do nothing. He needs to be stopped. And if I don’t make a move first, he will come for her and try to take her back.”

“These young packs are so… what’s the word?” Jaebeom said with a sigh, rolling his neck. “So impulsive.”

“What would you do then?” Chan asked.

“I’d watch my tone for one.” Mark commented.

“She is your soulmate, yes?” Jaebeom asked.

“Yes. All of ours actually.” Chan stated.

“Wait….she’s the soulmate to all….eight of you?” Bambam questioned.

“Yes.” The three Greenridge members said.

“Aish.” Jaebeom ran his fingers through his hair. “No wonder you are so worked up about it.”

“Would you not be for your omega?” Chan challenged.

“I am truly sorry your omega went through the things she did. But she made it out and she has you now. I’m sure the mental trauma will take time to heal through but physically, I’m sure she’s healed. That doctor Quinn is a miracle worker.” Jaebeom sipped his wine. “The twenty-eight of you should be able to enforce the agreement to stand, seeing as Lewis was in the wrong first. Have you not tried speaking with him first? I have found that a lot of conflicts in my younger days could have easily been solved if we had talked things out and reached a…well if we had reached an agreement. Your fathers did the same years ago, did they no?” 

“Lewis is not a man to reason with. He’s all violence and control. If we were to talk it out, it would have to be on his terms.” Chan ran his fingers through his hair, thinking over how he would even go about it.

“So make it seem like it’s on his terms… that it was his idea.” Jaebeom suggested. “Unfortunately, I’m not a fan of getting involved with the juvenile packs and their squabbles.”

“Please.” Chan begged, not even embarrassed in the slightest to show his desperation to his lessers. “She was shot forty four times that night - four cobalt and the rest silver. She told us they liked to hunt her for fun and only let her out of some dungeon cell to entertain themselves. They raped her, used her with their friends doing god knows what, and beat her down till she had no hope left.”

“She was also marked by Lewis.” Hyunjin added, knowing it was hard for Chan to say himself.

Chan clenched his jaw.

“He marked an omega that wasn’t his soulmate?”

“Yes.” Chan said through gritted teeth. “He made her believe he was her soulmate.”

Before Jaebeom could respond, a lady came over and leaned down asking if they were ready for dessert. Jaebeom nodded and everyone straightened in their chairs. The tension in the air was palpable.

“Please enjoy dessert while I talk with my pack.” Jaebeom says.

The entirety of his pack stood and exited the dining room as the women came out with plates of dessert. It was a square of pink looking jello, some sort of white cream and yellow cake bottom. It had a flattened flower garnishing the top. After all the plates were set down, one of the servers stood behind the head chair.

“Dessert is a rose blossom panna cotta tart. Please enjoy.” She bowed and walked back into the kitchen with her team.

“Rose blossom?” Jisung whispered, eyeing it.

Hyunjin took a bite and his eyes opened wide. “Mmmm”

Jisung tried a bite and also enjoyed it.

“It isn’t looking good, is it?” Chan asked Seungcheol.

“If he’s discussing it with the pack, that’s a good sign. Jaebeom doesn’t force his pack to do anything he wouldn’t. So he makes sure everyone is on board with something. If they aren’t he hears them out and considers it. He’s a very fair leader.” Seungcheol explains.

It was a little while longer when Jaebeom finally returned. He sat down, as did his fellow members. The members began eating their dessert, Jaebeom also taking a bite.

“We will agree to help you, should it come to a fight.” Jaebeom announced. “If my omega were to have been in that situation, I would probably have been pleading on every door to find help to stop the son of a bitch that refused to treat her like a queen.”

“Thank you.” Chan stood abruptly from his chair and shook Jaebeom’s hand. “Thank you so much.” 

Hyunjin and Jisung shook the hands of the Ahgase pack and thanked them for their support.

“Just call me and we will be there to help fight.” Jaebeom nods his head. “No one who treats an omega like that should be an alpha. I have connections with people of the Hybrid Association. I will send word and hopefully they can intervene before this becomes a full on war.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you so much.” Chan says.

Now that the main issue was settled, you all continued with conversation for the next hour, drinking more wine and touring the mansion.  The grounds were as immaculate as the inside with top notch landscaping done. Rose bushes trimmed to the nine, flowers planted strategically, and even shaped shrubs of a wolf, bunny, and elephant adorned the land. They also had a fountain in the backyard amidst a gravel pathway that led down to a gazebo in the far corner of the main lawn. Their property stretched onwards, beyond a dense woodland but there wasn’t anything to see back there.

“Please come by for breakfast in the morning before you leave. We truly enjoyed your company.” Jaebeom insisted.

“We appreciate the offer, but we don’t want to impose.” Chan smiled.

“You wouldn’t be.” Jaebeom assured.

“Okay. We would love to.” Chan smiled, his betas nodding in agreement.

“Great. See you at nine am.” Jaebeom said.

They said their goodbyes, heading to their motel for the night. With full bellies of delicious food, they were ready for sleep.

Back at the pack house, everyone was also settling down for sleep. You had a great day with the pack, even though you were sore as hell from your workout. Everyone was a little sore honestly.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the coziness of your new sheets and room comforting you. Your nest was much better now, appealing to how you like it. You even had the boys’ scents mixed in now that they would come in there more often. It was definitely home.

You had been sleeping for only a few hours until a nightmare jolted you awake. You panted, looking around your dimly lit room. Your nightmare consisted of Chan being tortured and abused while you screamed, begged, and pleaded for Lewis to leave him alone. 

Shivering at the memory of the dream, you climb out of bed and step into the hall. You found yourself seeking the comfort and security of being with someone and not alone. Next door was Minho’s room and you found yourself opening his door.

You stepped inside, looking at him sleeping in his bed. Subconsciously, you walked over to him, reaching out to wake him. You thought better of it, and turned to leave.

“Where you going, kitten?” Minho asked in a raspy voice.

“I..uh..”

“What’s wrong?” Minho sat up, alert.

“I just…nothing.” you turned to leave once more.

“Y/n…”

“I just had a nightmare. I’m okay.” You whispered.

“You don’t have to go.” 

You turned around, looking at Minho. He opened the covers to his bed, encouraging you to come lay down. It felt so vulnerable…but you really didn’t want to go back and lay alone in your room. So you walked forward, going to the opposite side and crawling into bed.

You were a safe distance away and settled into his sheets, smothered in his scent but you didn’t mind. It was already lulling you to sleep when you felt Minho’s arm snake around and pull you to him.

You tensed, only to relax into his warmth as you were flush with his body. He was breathing in your scent, your hair in his face as he snuggled closer. You had never felt so safe and secure, falling asleep easily.

It was a peaceful slumber and you woke up feeling so rested. His bed was so comfy, his scent all around you. But…there was another scent. A scent you knew all too well.

Not again… you thought.

Minho had gone into a rut.

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @jutdwae-flower @staytinyluv @emmxxsworld @galaxy4489 @wolfo2027 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @sillygoosegoose

Shout out to my lovely betas!! @its-the-solar-system @cherry-erii

[thebestofoneshots]

MARAUDWEEEN

Feels Like The First Time | James Potter x reader

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 6 k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!James, bashful!James, he literally can't take his eyes off you.

Prompt: As a part of the Marauween Series, this fic takes you to an Alternate Universe where James Potter is a fireman, telling the story of how you met, and how your first time came about.

Maraudween is a Halloween-inspired anthology series where each chapter transports you into a distinct alternate universe. From the real world to old western Texas and even through the dark times of vampires. These standalone tales invite you into a realm of boundless potential. Experience the enchantment of Halloween as it weaves its spell, intertwining the magic of costumes, AUs, terror and spice.

NSFW (Smut under the cut) ♡

“What can I get you, sir?” You asked, not looking up from the register as you were trying to close the tab of the previous order. The machine had been acting up lately and no matter how hard you tried, it seemed to take its sweet time between closing an old order and opening the feed to start a new one. 

You were almost scowling at it when you heard a low chuckle from behind the counter, you instantly recognized it. The cute fireman, you felt your cheeks flush at the thought. 

“Everything all right, angel?” he asked, voice soft even as a little smirk played on his lips. 

“James!” you said with a smile, deciding to ignore the machine and talk to the man instead. He lived a few blocks away, in your same building, and he always passed by the shop to get some coffee and a snack before he finished his walk to work. Sometimes he came on his way back too, he was over so often, that you almost knew his orders by memory, “Americano?” 

He shook his head “I’m feeling up for something sweeter today.” 

You hummed in response, running his typical orders in your head “Late with a pump of strawberry?” 

He tilted his head, seemingly thinking about it, you couldn’t help to let your eyes linger over his uniform. He’d typically alternate between blue, yellow and grey. Today he was wearing grey and you would be lying if you said he didn’t look disarmingly attractive. He was big and well built too, but that was a lot easier to appreciate on hotter days when he wasn’t wearing his jacket on top of the usual either crisp white or neat black shirt, “Yeah, that’s perfect.” 

You smiled and started writing down the details in his cup. When you realised there was no one on the line behind him, you decided to prepare his drink yourself, instead of passing it over to Marcus, your coworker, and better barista between the two. James knew, and yet, he much better liked the drinks you prepared. 

“Want me to add a bit of whipped cream?” You asked. 

“You spoil me,” he said with a smile, you turned to give him a questioning look, a smile playing on your lips as he nodded, perhaps that’s why he liked your drinks best, they almost always came along with a smile. 

“You do spoil him,” Marcus added as he used one of the machines to draw pictures over a latte. 

You gave him a pout as an answer and continued with your preparation. Once it was done you turned around, Marcus had gone off to tend some table and you walked over to James, handing him his cup straight to his hands. His fingers lingered over yours as he took it from you and you felt your stomach flutter, “I’d add some cinnamon for spice,” you told him, he nodded and walked over to the sugar table, doing exactly as you told him.

“Hey, James?” 

“Hmm…?”

“Good luck at work today,” you added with a smile, Marcus from one of the tables almost rolled his eyes, while James’ smile only widened. 

There was a huge fire that day, you saw it on the news on the small TV in the corner of the shop, one of the old buildings near the centre of the city had caught fire. Since it had been during work hours there hadn’t been that many people inside, and thankfully no one died but about 2 dozen had ended up in the hospital due to smoke toxicity. Or so was reporting the news lady. 

“Do you think James’s all right?” you asked, turning to Marcus with a little frown. 

“Why don’t you go home and check on him? He lives almost in front of you anyway. This happened about an hour ago, he might be there soon...” 

You nodded, and hurried with the wiping of tables, still looking a bit nervous and rushed “I’ll finish up closing,” he added. 

“Thank you,” you said as you went to pick up your stuff and remove your uniform from the back room. 

Marcus called your name, you turned to him “Bring him something. His favourite treat of whatever… I’m sure you already know it by memory.” 

“I… Well, I mean…”  

“Don’t play dumb and just take it to him, whatever it might be. Would serve you well, maybe admit that you like him as well.” 

You flushed “Shut it, Marcus.” 

“He likes you back, did you know?” You gave him a look “Hey it’s true! I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” 

“He’s just polite.” 

“Polite my ass, he’s never looked at me like that. Go on, knock on his door, patch him up and admit your crush. Maybe get it going with him too. What do you think he’d look like with those snug pants and a pair of suspenders? Only a pair of suspenders.” 

You flushed a lot more this time around, the image floating to your brain unprompted, and you weren’t able to shake it off that easily. Curse your imaginative mind and Markus’ dirty one to put the idea in your head. 

“So… his favourite treat?” 

“It’s the lemon tart,” you admitted reluctantly. “He orders it whenever he’s feeling down. And also after bad days.” Markus smiled and leaned down to take two of them and place them on a small box for you to take home, “Thank you.” 

“Thank me when you’ve seen him with only pants and suspenders!” he joked, and you shook your head in disbelief, a smile still plastered on your face as you did. 

You got home after a short walk and went straight for a quick shower. It was then that you heard the thud of heavy boots in the hallway. He was walking towards his apartment. You hurried to finish and changed into simple shorts and a sweatshirt before walking the 2 door distance to his apartment. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

There was no answer, you considered leaving, your nerves getting the best of you, but you remembered you still had the lemon tarts and decided to try again. This time you heard some shuffling and then the door opened, revealing James, still wearing his uniform, hair clinging onto his face from sweat and blotches of soot patching his cheeks, he looked tired, but he smiled the moment he saw who it was at the door. “Fancy seeing you here, darling.” 

You swallowed, his gaze having a powerful effect on you “I… I uh… I saw the news and well, I assumed you had been there, I guess I was right,” you added after gesturing toward your face, trying to refer to how blotchy he was “I thought I’d come to check if you were all right… I also brought you some of those lemon tarts you really like.” 

He stared at you for a second, as if trying to process the fact that you really had taken the trouble to bring him food, just because he’d had a tough day. When he realised you really were there, and not only a fragment of his imagination, he smiled “You picked my favourites,” he said pointing at the box. 

You gulped, as if scared of getting caught but nodded “You… order them often,” you said with a shrug. 

He hummed “And you know all of your client’s orders?” he asked, a flirty tone slipping as he moved to the side to let you in, nodding towards the kitchen, although you already knew where it was, since the layout of his apartment was almost an exact mirror of yours. 

“Only the ones of my favourites,” you responded, which got him to raise his eyebrows as he pulled out two plates and a pair of forks, placing them on the counter. You opened the small box and gracefully served one of the pies on each of the plates, he didn’t wait too long to dig in, moaning at the sweet and acidic flavour. 

“You’re the absolute best,” he told you as he continued to eat “Getting this after a fire might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You just giggled at his exaggeration, you didn’t know he didn’t mean only the pie, but also your company. As the two of you finished your meal, you stood up to go back to your apartment but he stopped you, a hand gripping softly onto your forearm “Hey wait!” You turned to him “Let me pay you back.” 

You gasped and then shook your head. “Oh no, don’t worry about it, I get free treats since I work there.” But he didn’t let go of your arm just yet. 

You saw him bite his cheek, looking to the side as if trying to find the right words “Regardless, I–  Let me take you out, yeah?” 

“Out… to the door?” You asked with a frown “I mean I know where it is but–” 

“Out on a date.” 

“You want to– Me?!?” He nodded fervently in response. 

“So...?” 

You smiled, you were sure you were blushing madly but his nervousness only made him even more adorable “I’d love that.” 

He’d taken you to a small Italian restaurant that his friend Sirius had recommended, he told you about his life, about how he got into firefighting and you told him about yours, how you were working at the cafe as a side job to pay for your online studies. He thought you were a hero, which was almost ridiculous because if anyone was saving people between the two, it had been him. 

After that date you went on many others, he frequented the cafe a lot more often, sometimes to order something, sometimes to drop by a bouquet of roses or some other kind of flower. Markus had teased you relentlessly after that, but he really was happy to see you happy. He also started giving you treats to take home a lot more often, but that was because he knew you were always sharing them with James.  

“Thanks love, see you at dinner?” James asked as he took the takeaway coffee cup from your hands, you had written “Prongs,” and drew a pair of antlers on it just to tease him, since he’d told you about his friends giving him that nickname in school. 

You nodded in response “Sure, want me to bring something?” 

He leaned over the counter as if it were about to say something of the utmost secrecy “How about some of those chocolate tarts?” he whispered. 

“Sounds about perfect to me,” you agreed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling back. He smiled dumbly after that and waved on the way out, almost bumping into a tall teacher who was also your regular. 

“Watch your step, lover boy,” he told him. That day you found out Remus –the teacher who was a regular– and your boyfriend not only knew each other, but had been best friends for the longest time. He’d told you about him many, many times, but you had no way of knowing the calm, concentrated teacher who sat on his laptop grading students was the same mastermind prankster he always called Moony. 

“So… how does he look in suspenders?” Markus asked you as he eyed your boyfriend finally leaving. 

“Oh… well, I mean… I haven’t– we haven’t-“ 

“Shut it,” he said turning to you “You’ve been dating for a while now, like 2 months, right? Didn’t you tell me you slept at his apartment the other night?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I did… I fell asleep watching the telly and he didn’t want to wake me.” 

“I thought you meant something else…” he said as he shook his head “Maybe he’s asexual,” he added with a shrug “Total bummer for you.” 

You frowned “I don’t think he– I think he’s just trying to be a gentleman.” 

Markus shook his head, unconvinced “Have you tried to initiate anything?” 

“We’ve snogged a couple of times.” 

“And when it gets more heated?” 

You shrugged “Don’t know what to tell ya.” 

He hummed “You need to try harder.” 

“I need to try?” 

“Well to find out at least, don’t you want to?” 

You shrugged it off then, but truth be told, the idea had already cemented itself in your brain. You paid closer attention to the times you snogged after that. Be it on the couch, or the counter of yours or his kitchen, it was always romantic kisses and even if he certainly seemed affected, be it his ragged breath, pink lips or expanded pupils, he never pushed for more. Perhaps he really was waiting for you to initiate things. 

A few nights later, there was another fire, you had already gotten the key to his apartment so you waited over at his, bringing over some cream puffs and setting yourself on the couch while you waited. He arrived a little late, covered in soot like he had that first time you walked into his house with lemon tarts in your hand. He smiled the moment he spotted you on his sofa “Fancy seeing you here, darling,” he teased, echoing the words he’d said that first night. 

You smiled “How are you feeling?” you asked. 

He sighed, his shoulders slumped at that “We couldn’t… One of them didn’t make it.” You frowned, you knew he’d torment himself about it all night, so you walked over to him, taking a wet towel as he sat near the counter and started wiping some of the soot from his face.

“‘S not your fault.” 

“But if we had gotten there sooner maybe–“ 

You pulled his chin, making his eyes look straight into yours “Jamie,” you said sternly, trying to ground him “It’s not your fault.” 

He sighed again “I know, I know…” he said, and buried his head in your neck, smelling your perfume as he grabbed onto your hips, “Stay over tonight?” he asked “Please, I don’t– I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts.” 

You smiled, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing it lightly over his messy hair before settling it at the nape of his neck “Of course, my love,” you responded simply, and pulled his shoulders back to look straight at his face “come on, let’s get to the sofa, maybe we can play something on the telly to get your mind off things.” 

He pouted “I’m sweaty, and I smell of charred wood.” 

You tilted your head, a small smile drawing on your lips “I think you look sexy,” you teased, before grabbing his hand to pull him up and towards the sofa. He had a diverted look as he followed. 

They were screening Karate kid for like the 5th time that week, but both of you were watching it patiently. That was until the commercial break started and you turned to James, he had a small frown on his face, almost imperceptible, as if he were trying to hide it from you, but you knew him well enough to know. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” 

James turned to you, a sorrowful look in his beautiful hazel eyes, “I found them, I tried, but…” You kneeled on the sofa and gave him a bone-crushing hug, or at least your version of one, since you had about half the strength he did anyway. Regardless, you heard the huff of a laugh coming from him. 

You gave one last look at the telly, they were still going on some infomercial about a magical razor, yeah, no way in hell he gets distracted by that. “Hey Jaimie,” he hummed in response “How about we find another way to get your mind off things?” you asked, pulling back a little so he could see your face.

He gave you a look, “Like playing Monopoly or…” he didn’t even finish his sentence since you crashed your lips against his with a kiss. He was surprised at first but followed the kiss shortly after. Tightening his grip on your waist. 

“Like this?” you said as you pulled out for air. He still had a bit of a frown, so you leaned into him again, determined to erase it with a kiss. He pretty much melted into you again, at some point you crossed your knee over his lap and you were straddling his thigh. You didn’t lean closer to him too fast, you wanted to give him some time. 

Your lips started to travel from his lips to his jaw, he was right, he was sweaty, you could feel the salty taste of it as you kissed, and there was something else too, a little bit of that smoked flavour going on. You didn’t care, if anything, it really made him feel sexier. You landed on his neck, and started pressing wet kisses on a section you knew from experience he liked, and you heard a low moan coming from his throat, music to your ears. 

“Wait… wait… hold up,” he said as he patted your shoulder softly, you didn’t pull back “Angel, please, I’m gross right now…”

“Don’t care,” you said between kisses “I like the way you taste.” 

He stifled grunted after you said that –partly because of what you said, partly because of the way you sucked onto a particularly sensitive part of his neck– it was hard enough for him to restrain himself as it was, and you saying things like that was only making it harder. 

You, without quite noticing what you were doing, started grinding against his leg, not quite against his crotch yet thought, you could still think enough to know it’d be too soon. You leaned back, trying to get to his mouth when you spotted him, he had a rather interesting expression on his face, brows furrowed, as if he was trying really hard to concentrate on something, or not to concentrate on something. 

You smiled, holding back a laugh before placing your hand on his cheek, he opened his eyes, a worried look on his face “James, what is it darling?” 

He swallowed, his breath was heavy, “I’m just… I’m trying not to– thinking of something else.” You raised an eyebrow at him, not sure exactly what was going on until you saw his gaze flicker down to his crotch. 

“Oh.” You said quietly, and then, in an outburst of bravery, pulled your hand down to pat him. He hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling it back.

“That– that’s going to make it worse.” 

You smiled again, tilting your head just a little as you stared at your beautiful boyfriend “Allow me,” you said softly “I want to make it worse.” He looked at you as if he was trying to decipher whether what you were saying was true, and you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek “Pretty please?” 

You had your forehead against his when he bit his lip and nodded, letting your hand free as you pushed it towards his crotch again. He was a lot harder than you had initially assumed he’d be, but you started rubbing your hand up and down regardless, feeling out his entire length which was nothing short of surprising. His head had somehow ended up on your shoulder again “fuck,” he said and trailed off with a few other curse words you weren’t sure you had heard him say before “That feels incredible Angel, You feel so good,” he whispered. 

Eventually, you pulled your hand backward and he gave you the most reproachful look, “Hey… I want to be able to kiss you,” you said softly before leaning in for a kiss and finally closing the gap between your bodies. You had been wearing a pair of simple lycra shorts, so everything felt very close when you finally leaned your hips over his, grinding your core against the rough texture of his firefighter pants. 

James was about to moan when you pulled him into a kiss again, so he moaned into your mouth, half attempting to return the kiss. His hands had now travelled to your hips, and he was helping you grind onto him, gripping almost a little too tight, not that you minded. If anything, you thought seeing this less controlled side of him was the hottest thing. 

Your hands travelled to his jacket, he’d been so lost in thought when he arrived home that he hadn’t even taken it off, but that was fine, you could help him with that now. You found the plate box and started to unbutton it one by one, he had been so engrossed in you that he didn’t notice what you were doing until you moved your hands to his inside shirt to push the thick jacket to the side. 

He helped you shrug it off and you set it to the side of the couch since you knew how much he cared for it. He gave you a smile through huddled lids and this time around he was the one pulling you towards him for another kiss. 

You went to the buttons of his pants this time around, grinding on his thigh in an effort to not stop the buildup you’d already created. “Angel what are you…?” 

“Material’s too rough,” you managed to mumble. His eyebrows knit in concern and he helped you in an instant. While he did that you fumbled with your shorts and took them off as fast as possible, not sparing a second glance to see where they fell on the floor, they were pretty ruined either way. He didn’t notice you had done that, not until you went back to straddle him and he felt the wet patch of your panties on his trouser. On his cock. 

“Fuck dove,” he said when he realized. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost shy, thinking he might think it was gross but he shook his head.

“Don’t be, it’s fucking hot,” he said as he grabbed onto your hips again and started sliding you against him, grinding you against him. This time there was a lot more purpose behind his movements, he was quite literally rubbing you right onto his cock, you could feel it almost in between your folds through the two layers of clothing separating you from each other. 

The room started feeling too hot, and you removed your hands from the back of his head and brought them to the hem of your sweatshirt, attempting to pull it off when his hands travelled to yours. 

He pulled back from the kiss and stared at you, searching for your eyes “You don’t have to– Not because of the…” he took a deep breath, trying to think straight “We don’t have to do this just to distract me.” 

Your expression turned soft, as you looked at him. How on earth did I get so lucky? You thought. You licked your lips, biting the bottom as you brought your hands to the side of his face. “It’s not just because of that, I want to do this Jamie, I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” He swallowed. “You think that sexy little uniform does nothing to me? I’m only human James.” He chuckled, eyes averting to the side in an adorably bashful expression that you were certain only James Potter would be able to pull off. When he looked back you gave him a teasing smile “Help me?” you asked again, nodding down. 

This time it was he who bit back a grin, almost giving you a wink before he let his hands to the hem of your hoodie and helped you pull it off. He stared at you for a second. You were wearing a simple sports bra, nothing fancy, in fact, you’d dare say it was a little embarrassing since the bottom hem was frailing a bit already, but that didn’t seem to matter to James. He was staring at you as if he’d seen the hottest woman on earth. As if you had been wearing the most exquisite set of lingerie. 

You blushed, obviously, you blushed, and hid your head on his neck so he wouldn’t notice, pretending you were going for a kiss, but he stopped you. “Hold up, I wanna enjoy the view,” he complained. 

“When I’m wearing nicer underwear I’ll let you,” you said, pushing against him to go to his neck again, but he was stronger, if he didn’t want you to move, there was no way in hell you’d be able to move. 

“Darling, your underwear is the last thing I’m paying attention to,” he said honestly. You took a deep breath and allowed him to pull you back, his eyes were blown with lust as he stared at you, at your bare shoulders he’d seen a couple of times, although not many since you started going out in winter and it still was winter. At the supple curve of your hips. At your breasts, you felt his hand twitch in your shoulder, as if he was holding himself back from touching anywhere else. 

“James,” you said, getting him to turn his gaze back to your face, although you noticed it flicker down a couple of times, “You can touch.”

It was as if that had been all the permission he needed, he brought his hands down, letting them roam through your bare waist as you started to grind against him again. He was harder, if that was even possible. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his, and started trailing kisses down your neck, setting in the curve of your breasts as you continued to dry hump him. 

He could see your hardened nipples through the thin cotton fabric. He’d actually seen them harden as he kissed, and then he did something you weren’t expecting, he held your waist and pulled you up a little, you almost whined at the loss of contact, but he pushed his head forward and gave an open mouth kiss to your breast, sucking and nipping through the fabric, you were now helping him hold you up with your own legs and holding onto his strong shoulders, absolutely lost in the feeling of his mouth. 

He pulled back, giving you a mischievous look as he trailed his fingers over the frilled hem, there was almost an innocence to the way he was looking at you “May I?” he asked. 

“Please.” He was already digging his fingers under the hem and pulling it over your head. “You too,” you added, pulling at his shirt. He quickly passed his hand to the neck of his shirt and yanked it off in a second. You gulped, you’d never seen anyone take their shirt off in such a hot way. 

He was staring at you as he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you towards his face, this time licking from the underside of your breast all the way to your nipple before he closed his mouth around it and started sucking again, without the fabric in the middle you could feel his wet tongue and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin, you arched against him, and moaned his name when he bit softly. 

His other hand was already massaging your other breast, kneading it and brushing his thumb over your nipple every couple of seconds. It felt incredible, and you relished on the feeling until your neediness got the best of you, “James,” you somehow managed to form the words, and grabbed the hand that was still kneading on your breast, pulling it down, to your core “Here, please.” 

You saw him pull back to look at you, and he swallowed thickly but nodded, moving to kiss your neck as he traced his fingers over your wet panties “fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered between kisses. You gripped onto his shoulder a little harder, when he pressed his finger onto your folds, you were already pretty sensitive from so much rubbing onto his hard uniform pants that even the slightest touch had you on fire. 

After toying with you for a bit, he slid his finger through the hem and pushed your panties to the side, digging his fingers on your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit. He found it in the blink of an eye and you were pretty much bucking your hips against his hand in search of more friction. He let out a breathy laugh “So needy,” he said before setting one of his fingers near your entrance and digging it in. 

His finger was long, much longer than yours and it reached places you wouldn’t have dreamed of, he curved it in a particular way and you let out a gasp “Yes! Please, James, do that again,” you said as you panted, he obliged, and had you grinding against his hand again in no time. 

“Angel you’re too tight,” he whispered as you leaned in to kiss him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his tight. He went in for another finger as you kissed him and swallowed your whimper. He was already moving his fingers and slowly opening them inside of you, trying to prepare you, in case you wanted to continue because hell knew he did. 

He pressed his thumb against your clit again, he could feel you faltering on him, your hip movements becoming sloppier as he continued to rub “Jamie I’m gonna…” 

He kissed your neck “Please do.” 

You leaned closer to him digging your nails into the muscles of his back as you bit your bottom lip. James separated from your neck for a second to look at you, you looked fucking stunning as you whimpered and whispered his name and a few course words almost incoherently. 

“So fucking stunning,” he told you with a smile. It took you a second to come back and be able to pay attention to him, to the way he was looking at you. 

You huffed a laugh “Shut up Jamie,” you said with a smile as you shook your head, he still had his fingers inside you, and it looked like he didn’t have the intention to remove them any time soon.

“How are we doing?” he asked. 

You frowned, “Why do you– oh.” He flicked his thumb over your clit again, thrusting his fingers in and out in a rather sharp way “James you aren’t thinking of…” 

“Of course, I’m thinking of it angel, I need to see that pretty face of pure bliss on you again.” 

You almost let him convince you but you shook your head. You didn’t miss the way his smile faltered, you leaned into him, making sure to let your clit rub onto his thumb again as you shifted your weight and your hips “Not until I see yours,” you whispered in his ear, bringing your hand down to the hem of his boxers and digging your hand to grope him. 

He groaned at your harsh movement, but his head fell back, an expression rather similar to yours as you dragged your hands through his length. 

“Help James,” you said, words cut with sharp breaths from the effort you were making to pull his boxers down. He lifted his hips and helped you do it, all the while you continued pumping him. There was already a bit of white precum coating his tip, even if the boxers had sucked up most of it, you used it to allow your hand to glide easier around him. 

“Faster,” he asked, you complied, he was already bucking his hips into your hands, “fuck doll I think I’m going to– “ You instantly stopped moving your hand and his eyes snapped open, looking at you like you had betrayed him. But you didn’t give him an explanation, you used your legs to prop forwards and lined him against your entrance “Wait, doll–“ you lowered yourself onto him, “fuck.” 

You gulped, allowing yourself to adjust before giving him a look, he was looking at his cock buried in you attentively, and he swallowed thickly, you didn’t wait too much after that, and started grinding onto him, “Fuck Jamie you fill me up so good,” you whispered, as if he needed any more encouragement. You thought he did since he wasn’t moving, but that wasn’t the reason he wasn’t. 

He grabbed onto your hips, and halted your movement “fuck, angel, hold up– I need–“You looked at him worriedly, accidentally bucking your hips again as you tried to search for his eyes, and then you felt it. Wet and sticky, inside you. He’d cum.

He looked at you with the most mortified expression on his face, as if he was sorry “I’m– I’m so sorry I…” 

You just laughed, placing your hand on his cheek to prompt him to look at you “Hey, It’s okay my love.” 

“But I didn’t… Not even like 30 seconds I–“ James was completely flustered, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him that flustered before, you pulled him into a kiss. 

“I’m taking it as a cumm-pliment,” you told him, he gave you a reproachful look and you gave him a peck on the lips. A small smile wavered its way towards his lips. 

“That’s the– what a terrible pun,” he added. You bucked your hips against him again “fuck.” 

You raised your eyebrow at him “Keep insulting my puns and I won’t help you with your little issue,” you threatened playfully as you started to buck your hips again, helping him empty himself completely. This time a lot slower, enjoying the way he felt on you, the way he was filling you up, how much easier it was to glide onto him with his warm cum all over you, some of it dripping to the side of your thigh and onto his already, you continued until he patted on your tight. 

You nodded and pulled out slowly, setting yourself on his lap still. He still seemed awfully bashful, “Come on Jamie, I really don’t mind it.” 

“But it was– our first time and I… ugh” he placed his hands over his face, groaning as he replayed the events in his head.

You bit your tongue not to laugh. At least he wasn’t thinking of the fire anymore. Mission success? You sighed and placed your hands onto his own and pulled them down, tilting your head a little in search for his eyes.

 “How about…” you started, it seemed to gather some of his attention, although he was still looking at you with a dissatisfied expression “We go get a bath, and clean up…” you continued, he had finally lifted his head towards yours “we relax together a little,” you added, letting your fingers trace over his muscles, “we clean all the soot of that pretty face of yours,” you added, pinching his cheek which earned you a playful scowl from his part “and then chill for a while, see what happens next,” you finished, making sure your tone, raised eyebrows and half bitten bottom lip was suggestive enough. He looked at you, a diverted smile playing on his lips. “If it makes you feel better, we can pretend the shower was our first time instead,” you added just to spite him. 

He huffed, a smile on his face as he placed his hands on your waist and stood up, holding you against him with ease. You squealed and laughed at the sudden action “James!” you reprimanded “We didn’t even take your boots off, you’re gonna fall and drop me in the process,” he looked down and groaned when he realised it was true. Regardless he tried to jump his way before the two of you ended up back on the couch. You were laughing merrily as he huffed. 

“Come on hot fireman,” you told him with a smile “Take off those pretty boots of yours…” you smiled as you sneaked out of his grasp “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.” 

He pretty much groaned as he saw you leave, staring at your ass as you disappeared through the door. 

A/N: this one came out so much sweeter than I expected it to, but I kind of love it. It really captures that James Potter humour, doesn't it? Maraudween and The Five Senses are the anthology series where I explore writing smut, all as a way to hone my skills for the moment I write it in my Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leave it in the comments below. I absolutely love reading your comments &lt;3

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[sapphicantics]

Two Sides of the Same Coin | Chapter One

Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader

Summary: After a nobody destroys the Jocks and insults the Queen Bee without a care or an apology, you get catapulted to the top of the social food chain next to aforementioned Queen Bee, Regina George, who now has to learn to share the spotlight with North Shore’s new bad girl. | Or alternatively, your ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude sucks you and Regina into each other’s worlds sending you down a path you never expected.

Chapter word count: 1.7k

Contents: vaping, underage drinking, mentions of weed, threats of violence, mentions of broken bones, shitty comebacks - I think that’s it, lemme know if I missed any

Note: Alright, I’m finally here with the first official chapter of Same Coin. Now I don’t know how often updates are gonna be for this fic but they will be coming, I’ve got so many ideas for it.

Intro - Chapter 2

— — — —

Menace is a bit of a crazy term to use to describe someone who sticks up for themself, but this is high school and everyone loves to exaggerate, especially boys with fragile egos who can’t stand the school knowing they got their asses kicked by a girl.

And when the girl is you — a girl who keeps to herself and minds her own fucking business like people should do any-fucking-way — oh, there’s bound to be countless descriptors thrown onto you to help rebuild their fragile masculinity.

Volatile, temperamental, crazy, psycho just to name a few.

You’re not sure how those are supposed to rebuild their masculinity, especially when you can just kick their asses and knock it right back down again. Despite those seemingly negative connotations that come with your new title, it does, admittedly, have a rather nice ring to it.

Anyways, nice ring or not, negative connotations or not, title or not, you’ve got far more important things to focus on instead.

Like why the fuck Charlie Hudson is in front of you right now.

It’s lunch and you’re under the bleachers with a strawberry flavored vape pen in hand. You take a hit and blow a cloud of smoke past your lips, raising a brow at him.

He doesn’t speak for a while probably assuming you’ll do so first, but you just take more hits from your vape and continue to stare at him. He approached you, he came over here to you, he’s interrupting your time so he must want something from you and he either tells you on his own or he doesn’t tell you at all. It makes no difference to you, but you’re definitely not gonna ask what he wants.

It’s only when you check your watch does he remember he’s on a time crunch and finally opens his mouth to speak. “I’m having a party tonight. I was thinking you could swing by for a bit.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, it’s gonna be a whole thing, you know?” No you don’t know, and that really doesn’t answer the question on why he’s inviting you or why he thinks you’d even want to go, but thankfully he continues. “Real big, real fun, real cool…” he reaches into his pocket, pulling his hand out and passing some cash over to you. “…really need someone to bring the Mary Jane.”

You tilt your head at him, looking between him and the cash before sliding your vape into your jacket pocket. You pluck the cash from his hands and flick through the stack. There’s a couple thousand dollars here — broken up into smaller bills because why not — a little over a thousand by your count, sixteen hundred to be exact, which is far more than you usually charge to supply a party, but if the rich boy wants to give you all his money then you’re not gonna stop him.

Perhaps, this might make you a thief to some, but really, what’s one more negative connotation added to your name?

You slip the cash in your pocket and nod. “I’ll be there at ten.”

He flashes you a smile as you walk past him and brush your shoulder against his. There’s no force behind it — okay there’s a little force behind it, not a lot though — but still he flinches at the pressure and you don’t miss the way he reaches up to rub at his shoulder out of your peripherals.

That reminds you that you need to make a few things clear. Well, one thing, specifically.

“Oh, and Charles?” He hates that name, thinks it makes him seem like an old man and what better way to ensure he knows you’re serious than calling him by his government. He seems to understand this as his eyes snap to yours and he tenses. “If North Shore wants a chance at making it to state this year, it’d be in your best interest to ensure your brother is on his best behavior tonight. Unless, of course, Lucas wants more broken bones. You got me?”

The bell rings behind you then, a seemingly ominous warning to the boy whose face is now alight with fear. You don’t bother waiting on a response, you know he’ll obey your wishes. You smirk and turn on your heels, disappearing into the school.

— — — —

You show up at 9:45.

Fifteen minutes before the agreed upon time, a rather gracious compromise in your opinion.

One you’re already starting to regret as you walk into the house.

The music is blasting so loud you can barely hear yourself think. The house stinks of sweat from the hundreds of people crowded around each other, dancing, singing, laughing, and making out.

Everyone is drunk — some way more wasted than others — but somehow they all seem to sense your presence and part for you like the Red Sea. Some of them even turn their heads to see if it’s really you before quickly looking away and whispering to their friends.

You roll your eyes at that and Charlie takes this moment to finally make his appearance, trudging his way out of the kitchen. He makes a detour once he spots you and after a quick greeting, he leads you out to the backyard. “You got the stuff?”

“What a stupid question,” you scoff. “You think I’d take your money and then show up to this party empty handed with this duffle just for fun?”

You shrug the bag off and place it on the ground between the two of you, unzipping it as you do so. Inside is a bunch of pre-rolled joints and plenty of bags of weed for those who prefer to use a bong. There’s some rolling papers in there so people can roll their own joints, but you’re pretty sure if anyone does rolls their own joints tonight they are not using the weed you bought — because they don’t trust you so they won’t trust the weed you bought, and also no one goes to a party without their own weed. On the off chance that they do use yours, however, the necessary supplies are there.

Charlie whistles at the haul, eyes wide, clearly not having expected this much from you, but that’s not really surprising.

“Damn, I knew you were a pothead but that’s pathetic even for you.”

It is surprising, however, that Charlie took time out of his day to summon an actual demon from hell to this party.

You say this out loud. On purpose. Because it’s your mouth and you’ll say whatever you want.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

You turn your head to see none other than the devil herself, Regina George, glaring at you.

“You fucking heard me, Regina. You’re a demon and you should go crawl back into whatever fiery pit of hell you came out of.”

“Yikes, someone’s feeling dramatic today. But if I left, who would teach you how to dress?”

You chuckle and shove your hands into your pants pockets. “Rather presumptuous of you to assume I would want fashion advice from someone who looks like a copy and paste Barbie doll.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s adorable that you think your opinion matters-,”

You hold your hand up to stop any further comments and start talking over Regina, effectively cutting her off and shutting her up. “I’m so glad you said that because your opinion does not matter at all, not to me especially when I didn’t even ask, and acting like it does is only going to do you a disservice so I’m gonna go ahead and let you know - I don’t care and you can keep the rest of your shitty opinions to yourself.”

Regina scowls and steps into your personal space, pointing her finger at you, inches away from jabbing into your skin. She’s towering over you slightly and now that she’s so close, you have to tilt your head up to hold eye contact with her. “Listen here you little bitch-,”

For the second time in less than a minute, you cut Regina off, smirking at the little vein that bulges on her forehead. “No, I don’t think I will, actually.”

Regina is about to blow. You can see it in her eyes, in the way her shoulders are so tense, and if you can see it so can anyone else in the vicinity. You lean closer, lowering your voice to a whisper so only she can hear. “Be honest, are you just mad this shirt got to come out of the closet, and you didn’t?”

Regina’s hands are fast.

SMACK!

But so are yours.

You catch her wrist in your hand before her open palm can collide with your cheek, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the backyard. A hush falls around those outside and you feel dozens of eyes lock on the two of you.

Regina tries to pull her hand away and you tighten your grip in response - not enough to leave marks or to cause pain, just enough so she’s forced to stay where she is.

She glares at you, her eyes alight with fury and jaw tense. The air crackles with the intensity of her anger, and you can feel the heat of her rage radiating towards you. But there’s no backing down now.

“Enough, Regina!” you snap, your voice firm and unyielding. “This isn’t the time or place for this!”

Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, it seems like she might explode again. But you hold your ground, your own anger flaring to match hers.

“We’re not doing this,” you continue, your tone brooking no argument. “Not here, not now.”

She looks ready to argue, but you cut her off, stepping forward with a fierce determination. “Back off, Regina. We’ll settle this later.”

The tension hangs thick in the air, but she finally takes a step back and you release her, her jaw still clenched. Without waiting for her to respond, you turn on your heel and stride away, your heart pounding with the adrenaline of the confrontation.

You venture inside and slip into the kitchen, grabbing a beer. You down it in one go and grab another one for the road before leaving out the front door.

It’s gonna be a hell of a day tomorrow.

[slut4thebroken]

All Work, No Play: hour one

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | You meet Jackson at the bar in the hotel you’re staying at and decide to be brave and try something new; a one night stand. But it doesn’t go the way you think.

Warnings | NON CON 18+, sexual content, fingering, vaginal sex, dubious consent, threats of anal rape, degradation, humiliation, misogyny (like so much lol), choking, hickeys, cunniligus, crying, edging, stalking, voyerism, breeding, unprotected sex, emotional manipulation, putting misogyny again lol, objectification, face down ass up🤭, dehumanization, threats of murder and torture, I think that’s everything skdjdk.

Words | 6.5 k

Notes | READ THE WARNINGS. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CHOOSE TO VIEW. The last thing I wrote that was this intense was maybe the beginning chapters of exposure therapy or the dark!jason series💀

Ao3 link | <3

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This is the last warning, if you keep reading and find something you don’t like, that’s on you. I have it clearly written what’s in this fic, if you choose to ignore it, don’t be a bitch about it and comment hate or report it ❤️

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“Can I sit?” Your head snapped up, finding a man standing behind the empty seat next to you. 

“Yeah. Go ahead.” You said awkwardly, clearing your throat and putting your attention on your drink as he sat down. 

“I'm sorry, I'm not usually this forward, but I was wondering if I can buy you a drink?” Your eyes widened and you turned to face him, not expecting that question at all. 

“Um- sure. Thanks.” You gave him a small smile, feeling your cheeks heat up when he returned it. He called the bartender over to order his drink, then looked at you expectantly. You ordered, then finished off the rest of the drink you already had— two shouldn’t be too bad. 

“I’m Jackson.” He said, holding his hand out for you to shake. You told him your name in return and he muttered it to himself, testing it out. 

“What brings you here?” You asked, turning toward him to give your full attention. 

“Work. You?” 

“Work.”

“I have to say though, this trip is turning out to be much better than the others.” He gave you a small smile and you tried not to get too overwhelmed with the butterflies in your stomach as you stared at him, wondering almost anxiously about where this was going. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” 

“This time a beautiful girl let me buy her a drink.” You averted your gaze as your face heated up, not used to such sudden compliments like that. 

“I guess I could say the same then.” 

“I don’t believe that.” He scoffed playfully. “You must have men practically lining up to buy you drinks.” 

“Nope… Just you.” You said, embarrassed. Thankfully, the bartender placed your drinks in front of you, giving you a break from his attention. “So how long are you staying here?” You asked, changing the subject. 

“I should only be here one more night. Maybe two depending on how tough the job is.” He shrugged. 

“Oh okay. I’m flying back over the weekend so I’m here for a few more days.” 

“Do you have any personal time or is it all work and no play?” The way he said it made it sound like an innuendo… but you weren't completely certain if it actually was. 

“Well I have enough to sit at a bar and talk to a stranger.” You smiled behind your glass as you took another sip. 

“I see… And what about going someplace quieter with a stranger? Do you have time for that?” He said lowly, making arousal pool in your stomach as his eyes darkened slightly. 

“I think I could spare a bit. It depends on what this stranger wants to do.” 

“I’m not sure it would be appropriate to say in the middle of a hotel bar.” You eyed him curiously, deciding what to do. You’re not a one night stand type of girl, but he’s hot and you’re a little pent up. 

“Then I guess we should go somewhere you can tell me.” His lips curled into a smirk and he immediately reached in his pocket to pull out his wallet and place some cash on the bar for your mostly untouched drinks. 

He stood and held a hand out for you to take as you got to your feet, letting him lead you over to the elevator. On the ride up, you tried not to let your nerves consume you, but you weren’t doing a very good job of that. The doors opened and he led you to his room, using the key card to open the door, then holding it open for you to walk in first. You looked around the room, finding no luggage and the bed perfectly made as if it hadn’t been slept in yet. 

“How long have you been here for?” You turned to face him as he placed his key card on the dresser and you waited somewhat impatiently for his answer. 

“A few hours. I mostly just have to work tonight.” 

“Oh… Do you need me to go then?” You asked, not understanding why he would invite you here if he had to work.  

“Of course not. How would I get any work done if you left?” Your brows furrowed as you replayed his words in your head, still not understanding. 

“Um… I— What?” You laughed awkwardly.

“I'm gonna be honest, I thought I’d have to try a lot harder to get you to my room.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked, but he ignored you. 

“I mean, I know you pretty well by now and I didn’t think you were the type to do one night stands.” You stared at him in confusion, but your stomach was twisting with a sense of complete and utter dread that something bad was about to happen to you. 

“I’m a little tired actually, I think I’m just going to go to my room.” You said, tentatively walking forward, but he remained between you and the door, blocking you. 

“But the night’s just getting started.” 

“Jackson, please move.” You said quietly, gaze shifting between his face and the door. He took a step closer, making you stagger back as he approached. 

“Now that we’re somewhere quieter, I guess I should tell you what I want to do. Or… not what I want, but what I’m going to do.” You were quickly nearing the wall behind you as he kept moving closer. When your back hit it and a small gasp escaped you, he placed both hands on the wall on either side of your head, trapping you. 

“I need something from you. Depending on your attitude, I’ll either take it, or you’ll give it to me willingly. One of those options will be significantly more painful for you and fun for me.”

“Please let me go.” You whispered, not able to maintain eye contact. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then suddenly grabbed your cheeks to turn you toward him, making your eyes snap back to his. 

“Beg if you want, but you’re not leaving here any time soon. Not until I get what I want.” He said lowly, words sounding like they once again had a different meaning. 

“What do you want?”  

“Two things. We’ll start with the fun one first.” The hand on the wall dropped down and he snaked it back up your thigh, under your dress. “Which pair did you wear, hm? I hope it’s that red set. The black one’s cute too though.” 

“What?” You said through a breath, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about. The lacy one that you seem to love so much. You take so many pictures of you wearing it and I know you don’t have a boyfriend so who are you sending those to?” He said teasingly. 

“How do you know that?” You whispered, heart pounding in your chest. 

“Same way I know that you like to walk around your apartment naked.” Your stomach twisted at the smirk on his face. 

“I- I don’t understand…” He shushed you before you could finish. Not that you could formulate a response anyway. 

“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about it. For now, let’s do what we came up here for, yeah?” He wasn’t asking you, he was letting you know what was happening, but you weren’t about to go down without a fight. 

“You’re fucking psychotic if you think I’m doing shit with you.” You spat, pushing his hand away when it started moving toward your underwear. 

“Baby… don’t be like that.” He cooed mockingly. “I know how pent up you are so stop being a stubborn bitch and just enjoy it.” He warned, tone significantly harsher than before. 

“Fuck you.” His hand suddenly moved from your face to your neck, squeezing tight enough to make you raise your hands to claw at his arm. You thrashed around in his grip, prompting him to place his leg between your thighs and push his body against yours, mostly immobilizing you. 

“Keep this up and I’ll torture you to get what I need, then kill you and fuck you— in that order.” You let out a strangled whimper and squeezed your eyes shut. “Do you understand?” You did your best to nod with his grip on your neck. 

“Yes.” You managed to force out through a wheeze. 

“Good.” His grip loosened significantly and you took in a huge breath, chest heaving to get the much needed oxygen. “Where do you want it? Against the wall? …On the bed?” He asked coyly. Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at him, desperately waiting for him to just say that this was all a joke and he didn’t mean any of it. But he never did. “Bed it is.” He answered for you. 

Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you from the wall and pushed you back toward the bed before practically shoving you onto it. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at you on your back, propped up by your elbows to look up at him. 

“Strip.” He demanded, eyes focused only on you. Hesitantly leaning up into a sitting position, you started with your heels, unbuckling the strap then dropping them to the floor— only debating for a moment if you should throw them at him or try something else, but you didn’t want to take any chances. Moving on to your dress, you pulled the zipper down until it loosened and took a deep breath before moving the straps so that the dress fell to around your hips. You lifted your lower half off the bed a little to slide it the rest of the way off, then waited. 

“Please don’t play dumb, it’s not a good look on you. You know what I want.” He said, all but rolling his eyes. Letting out a shaky breath, you reached behind yourself to unclasp your bra, discarding it to the growing pile on the floor. Your underwear was next, slowly sliding them off and keeping your legs together before covering yourself with your hands. 

“Fuck they’re even better up close.” He groaned, taking off his suit jacket. “Do you know how many times I jerked off just watching you walk around naked? You should really learn to close your blinds, you know. Sure people from the street can’t see you, but I could see you perfectly from the roof on the building across from yours.”

“Why are you doing this?” You whimpered, watching as he unbuckled his belt before taking it off. 

“People pay me to.” He said with a  shrug, making you scoff. 

“People are paying you to rape me?” 

“Of course not. That’s just a bonus.” 

“You’re sick.” You hissed. 

“Maybe. But what does that make you?” A smirk was making its way on his lips. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I can see how wet you are.” He said plainly, gaze dropping to your legs. 

“You’re fucking delusional.” You spat. 

“Am I?” He walked over to pick up your discarded— damp— underwear, holding them up for you to see, making your face burn. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve been told I’m conventionally attractive and I know you’re into this, even if you won’t admit it.” 

“Into what? Being raped?” You scoffed. 

“Not to that extreme. You want to be forced— dominated against your will. You want me to take what I want from you and trust me, I have every intention of doing that.” 

“Look I don’t know who you think you are but you can’t just,” He was on you in a second, roughly shoving you so you were laying down, then holding you there with a hand wrapped tight around your throat. 

“I can’t what?” His voice was low and menacing, a warning. “Hm?” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to panic as your head was starting to feel light again. “That’s what I thought. If you’re done with your tantrum, let’s get started.” You glared at him, teeth grinding together painfully. Despite everything, the fact that you just gave in so easily was what made you feel the worst. You barely put up a fight… and you know why. Because he’s right. You came up here with him because you thought he was attractive and wanted to fuck him. It’s not like you can just turn off that attraction. 

“Please let me go.” You whispered, eyes brimming with tears of humiliation. 

“No.” 

“Then just fucking get it over with already! Do you want help? Is that it?” You reached for his pants and started working on the button, but he released your neck to pull your hands away, holding them in one hand above your head. When you swallowed thickly and turned away from him, he grabbed your neck again, but didn’t squeeze as hard as before. 

“I watched you for weeks. I’m not about to rush things now.” Your eyes fluttered shut and you willed the tears away. You let out a stifled sob, biting your bottom lip when it started trembling again. His mouth was on yours suddenly, pressing a rough kiss to your lips as you tried to flinch away from him. His hand snaked down from your neck to grope your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers in a way that was bordering on painful. 

He trailed kisses over your jaw, down to your neck, then sucked the skin into his mouth, only releasing you when he was satisfied with the darkness of the bruise. Moving to a new place, he did the same thing, leaving hickeys all over your neck and down your chest before sucking your nipple into his mouth. You tried to stifle the gasp, but he heard it anyway. Once he deemed your nipple hard enough, he moved to the other one to give it the same treatment. His hands were pawing at your body, groping your breast and gripping your side to hold you still as you squirmed. He pulled up, looking at you through his lashes with slightly parted lips as he panted. 

“Ready for the fun part?” He smirked and you thought that meant he was going to fuck you, but he kissed down your stomach until he made his way to your legs, settling between them. He pried them apart even more and eyed your sex eagerly, making your cheeks heat up. 

“What are you doing?” You choked out and he tore his eyes away from your cunt to look at you. 

“You thought I’d watch you play with this pretty pussy for so long and not enjoy it?” He scoffed. Before you could protest, he was leaning down and licking a long stripe up your slit. Biting your lip, you swallowed down the moans threatening to escape. He focused mostly on your hole, lapping up your arousal and fucking you with his tongue, all while groaning against you. 

Moving up, he sucked your clit into his mouth and swiftly pushed a finger inside, making you jolt. Your lip was aching because of how hard you were biting it but you couldn’t risk letting out any moans. 

“Please,” You whimpered, trying to push yourself up the bed. In retaliation he inserted another finger, then wrapped his other arm around your thigh, pulling you down onto his hand. “Please stop.” You cried. If anything, your begging made him work harder. 

“Why? Getting close?” He smirked, barely pulling away from your clit to speak. You shook your head with a whimper as the tears finally started to fall. The thing is though… you were getting close. It’s been so long since you’ve been with another person, let alone someone this talented. 

“Stop...” You whined, bringing your hands down to push at his head. 

“God- I can fucking feel you clenching down on my fingers. You are close aren’t you?” He looked up at you through his lashes with a glint in his eyes. 

“We can’t have that though.” He said, removing his fingers and pulling away from your clit. “Not yet.” 

“Why are you doing this?” You whispered, staring at his figure that was blurry with unshed tears. 

“It’s nothing against you. The job leaves little time for.. personal activities… I saw an opportunity so I took it.” He all but shrugged. Instead of giving you a chance to respond, he pushed his fingers back in and sucked your clit into his mouth again. As his fingers curled against your walls in places that previous partners— and yourself— haven’t even discovered, you couldn’t hold back the sounds anymore. 

“There you go.” He cooed. “Just give in and I’ll make you feel so good.” He mumbled against your clit before flicking his tongue against it. 

“Stop.” You whined. In response, all he did was force another finger inside. You don’t know how he knew, but the second you neared the edge again, he pulled back, making you whine. 

“Feels good doesn’t it?” He asked, slowly curling his fingers against your walls, but keeping his mouth away from your clit. “No boyfriend, no one night stands… Just you and your vibrator.” He chuckled, making your face heat up. “You really like that thing. It’s cute.” 

“Fuck you.” There wasn't even a hint of malice in your tone. Just pure embarrassment and need. 

“Yeah I bet you want that too. Don’t worry, there’s no fucking way I’m leaving here before getting my cock in this tight little cunt.” You let out a choked sob and turned your head to the side as your hips started moving against his hand. “I could feel you clench down on my fingers… dirty girl.” He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, then leaned down to suck your clit into his mouth again. 

As you squirmed under him, you gripped the sheets hard enough to make your fingers hurt so that you wouldn’t move your hands to his hair— knowing you would try to pull him closer rather than push him away. He continued the assault on your cunt, his mouth and fingers creating utterly vulgar sounds that completely filled the room, adding to your humiliation. 

He slowed to a stop again and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from protesting. Once he knew your orgasm had faded, he slowly curled his fingers against your walls as his other hand reached down to pull out his phone. He eyed it, then set it on the bed next to your thigh. 

“If you give me what I want, I can speed all this up and give you what you want.” 

“You’ll let me go?” That made him chuckle. 

“That’s not what you really want.” The worst part is that it wasn’t… You wanted your orgasm that he’s been teasing you with for the past few minutes. 

“You still haven’t told me what you want.” You said, changing the subject. 

“Right to business then. Alright.” He removed his fingers suddenly and your hips flinched forward, chasing the pleasure. “I need to know the code to disarm the alarm at your work.” 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t have access to that.” You said nervously, making him sigh. 

“Please don’t waste my time. Tell me and I’ll make you come. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to resort to more… unconventional methods.” You tried not to scoff at that— how is this not already unconventional? 

“What are you going to do with it?” 

“I’m not going to do anything. All I have to do is to get you to talk, by any means necessary, and I’m very dedicated to my job. That’s why I stalked you for a couple weeks— to get to know you.” Your breath caught in your throat at the admission. How did you not notice that you were being stalked for weeks? “Unfortunately your family isn’t in the picture and you don’t really have friends— you definitely don’t have a boyfriend. All of that really limited my options. Luckily I like a challenge.” He smirked and you waited anxiously for where he was going with this. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve tortured people before. But after watching you for so long, I knew I needed to do something special. You deserve so much more than just water boarding or a beating.”

“You’re fucking sick.” You whispered, trying not to cry at the fact that this was not his worst.

“I could’ve threatened to rape you instead— obviously I still would’ve done it after I got what I wanted— but I had a feeling you’d respond better to this. So, you give me what I want and I’ll make you come, it’s as simple as that.” 

“Fuck you.” You spat, making him chuckle and check the clock on the nightstand for the time. 

“I’m trying to be nice, sweetheart, but if you don’t give me what I want… I will hurt you.” He condescended. “And not in a normal way— no, that would be a missed opportunity.” He leaned over you until his breath fanned your lips. “You don’t give me what I want, and I fuck your ass instead. No lube, no prep, just my fat cock splitting you open until you beg for mercy.” He said lowly. You tried not to show any outward signs of fear, but judging by the look on his face, you knew you were unsuccessful. “And I won’t give it to you. I’ll keep fucking you until you eventually pass out from the pain, but even then I still won’t stop. You’ll tell me everything I want to know and more, just to have the slightest chance of me stopping.” Your body trembled as you stared up at him, watching his gaze move all over your face as he studied you. 

“Now,” He whispered, “are you going to give me what I want or am I going to have to hurt you?” Your brows furrowed as you thought, trying not to cry. Maybe he’s bluffing? “Is this really worth getting raped in the ass over?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. When you remained silent, paralyzed in fear, he hummed and pursed his lips, then leaned back up. He flipped you onto your stomach and when you heard the zipper on his pants go down, you started thrashing. He placed a firm hand on your upper back to hold you down as he freed his cock. 

“Wait!” You yelled, when you felt his length brush your ass. “Wait— please, I- I’ll tell you, just please don’t.” You cried, anxiously awaiting his next move. “Please— I’m sorry, Jackson. I’ll tell you.” You rushed out, breathing growing more labored as panic and fear consumed you. 

“If you lie, I’ll know, and I’ll do it anyway.” 

“I- I won’t, I promise.” You whimpered as he picked up the phone, then a moment later, held it to his ear. 

“Yeah.. Are you ready for it?” You listened anxiously. “Go ahead.” He said, talking to you now. You told him and he repeated it back into the phone. “Good. Alright, let me know.” He tossed the phone back onto the bed. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You were starting to relax now that the threat wasn’t there anymore, but calming down made you feel all of the other emotions at the same time— anger for being stupid enough to fall for his charm, shame for enjoying the way he was pleasuring you, guilt for betraying your work so easily, and worst of all, desperation. You were desperate for more, and both of you knew that. 

You let out a choked sob and he removed his hand from your back but you didn’t move, you just buried your face into the sheets and cried. 

“You’re a crier?” He said, almost disgusted. “Those are the worst people to work with— actually I shouldn’t say people. It’s the women who cry, and usually before I even get to the fun part. The men that do cry at least wait until after they’ve been tortured for a while.” You couldn’t respond, not when you were focusing so hard on trying to take in oxygen through sporadic breaths with your face in the sheets. You were just glad he wasn’t pushing on your lungs anymore. 

“God- will you quit it already?” He snapped, making you flinch. He suddenly leaned over you, his cock laying heavy on your ass. He brushed your hair back to see your face, then roughly grabbed a fistful to turn your head enough to make eye contact. “As long as you didn’t lie, you have nothing to worry about�� So what’s the problem?” You knew he wasn’t genuinely asking.  

“I- I,” You couldn’t hold down the sob crawling up your throat. “Please don’t. Please— I gave you what you want.” You whimpered, making him raise his brows, as if to say, really?

“Have you ever been raped before?” He suddenly asked, making you let out another quiet sob. 

“No…”   

“You’ll live.” He shrugged, as if that made it better. “Sure you’ll think about this every day for the rest of your life and you’ll hate yourself for craving it again, but you’ll survive.” You let out a stifled whimper and squeezed your eyes shut. “You won’t even hate me more than you’ll hate yourself, you know why? Cause all I did was give you what you want. You’re the sick fuck who actually enjoyed being raped.” 

“Please stop.” You whimpered, wincing when he tightened his grip on your hair. 

“I bet you really do want me to rape your ass. Are you just being coy, baby?” He cooed and you violently shook your head to disagree. “Let me ask again.” He reached down and shoved two fingers in your cunt. “Do you want me to rape your ass?” He repeated, barking out a laugh when you sobbed harder, but clenched down on his fingers. “God you’re fucking disgusting. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend. I mean, who would want to date a girl who practically belongs in a brothel for fucks sake?” He started moving his fingers inside you, making you choke on a moan. 

“Actually— not even that. You’re not worth any amount of money. You belong on the streets, just a free use whore for anyone who needs a warm hole to fuck, isn’t that right?”

“Fuck you.” You muttered weakly. 

“Did I strike a nerve?” He cooed mockingly, curling his fingers inside you just a little bit faster. “Surely with a body like this you must be used to people objectifying you by now.” You weren’t. At least not to your face. 

“How’d you even get your job, huh? You fuck your boss?” You bit the inside of your cheek to try and ground yourself, not let your emotions consume you. “Did this run through little cunt get you a promotion? Even if it didn’t, I’m sure the only reason you were hired was so that your coworkers could have a pretty little thing to look at everyday.” He snickered. Even though you knew that everything he was saying wasn’t true, tears were still brimming in your eyes from his words. 

“Sluts like you are the worst kind. No one likes it when you play hard to get, that defeats the whole purpose of being a whore.” He removed his fingers from your cunt, making you hiss at the sudden loss. When he leaned back up and picked up his phone, you didn’t turn to face him, you just remained still. 

“Lucky girl. Thank you for your cooperation.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Now that business is done, I’d say we’re long overdue for some pleasure, wouldn’t you? Get up on your knees.” He moved off of you to let you rise up, but quickly stopped you. “Did I say on your hands? You don’t deserve to be fucked with dignity.” He roughly shoved your head forward until you landed against the mattress with a grunt. “You deserve to be fucked like the whore you are. Now stick that ass up, you don’t want me to tell you again.” You adjusted your position on your knees and felt the bed shift as he moved behind you. 

“Jackson, please.” You whimpered, turning your head to the side so he could hear you. You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore. He ignored you and lined himself up with your entrance, rubbing the thick head through your folds, spreading your arousal. 

“You better hope your whore pussy isn’t too loose because if you can’t make me feel good, I’ll have to use a different hole.” As if to emphasize his point, he placed the tip of his cock against your asshole, making you stiffen. He quickly went back down to your cunt, then applied some pressure. When your walls finally gave in to the intrusion, you cried out at the stretch and tried to move away, making him grab your hips to hold you still. 

“Ah, ah, ah— keep that fucking back arched.” He placed a hand on you and pushed down until your lower back was bent uncomfortably. “That’s it. Good little slut… Ready for more?” Before you could answer, his hips were snapping forward until he was flush with your ass, making you all but scream at the sudden force. Because of his hand holding you down, you couldn’t move away and the pressure of his hips against your ass was bending your back almost painfully. 

“Huh… Tighter than I thought it’d be.” He said, almost to himself. And you had to keep from saying ‘no fucking shit’ because of the way he was stretching your walls to their limit. He started up a slow, but hard pace, dragging out, then snapping back in. Each thrust made you scream and he moved his hand from your hip to push your face into the sheets. 

“Jesus- shut the fuck up already. You may want everyone in this damn hotel to know that you’re being fucked stupid right now, but I don’t. My line of work requires discretion.” Your moans quieted a bit and he let go of your head and leaned back up. 

“And just so we’re on the same page, sweetheart, if you attract any attention and someone comes to the room, I’ll kill them and then you. I don’t need you alive for this part so you better do everything you can to convince me not to break your fucking neck.” He growled and you let out a muffled sob. His thrusts sped up, and you bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood so that you’d stay quiet. 

“God- you fucking love this shit, don’t you? I might even have to keep you as a full time fuck toy.” You whimpered at the horrible thought, even though it made your clit throb. “Yeah I bet you’d like that too. Wouldn’t have to worry about anything else but pleasing me— no job, no social life, I’d take the burden completely off your shoulders and let you live the way you were meant to; as a worthless little fleshlight, desperate for cock anywhere you can get it.” 

You’ve never been talked to like this before. Sure, past partners have indulged in some of your kinks, but never to this extent, and never this well. You could feel your mind slipping away from you too. The longer he fucked you, the harder it was to remember why you didn’t want him to.  

“Are you on birth control?” He suddenly asked. You were confused about why he would care about being safe now, when you’re already in the middle of the act. 

“No…?”

“Of course you’re not. God it’s like you’re fucking begging to be knocked up.” You suddenly realized how this night was going to end and it was like a bucket of ice water was poured on your head. 

“W-wait,” You started lifting yourself into your elbows, but he placed a hand on the back of your neck and forced you down, keeping you there as he shushed you. 

“There's no need to panic. It’s your own fault for not protecting yourself.” You let out a choked sob and he pushed you down harder into the bed to muffle your sounds. “And anyway, this is what you were made for so how about you just stop fucking whining and be a good little breeding bitch.” You were crying again now, almost hyperventilating into the sheets, but he didn’t let up, he just held you down harder and fucked you faster. 

“I can’t say I necessarily want kids myself but maybe every nine months I’ll auction you off to the highest bidder— let you really fulfill your life’s purpose.” You couldn’t tell if this was a meaningless threat or not. “I’ll still whore you out during the nine months though, don’t worry. I’m not completely cruel.” He snickered. His thrusts were growing more erratic now and his breathing was getting more and more labored. 

“Don’t you like that idea, baby? I’ll strap you down to a breeding bench and let all of those disgusting men that you pretend you’re above have a turn with whichever hole they want. You’ll be so fucking covered in come by the end of it that you won’t even recognize yourself.” He roughly grabbed your hair and pulled your head back uncomfortably, making you cry out. “I’d still have my fun with you though, don’t worry. No matter how many cocks you take in those pathetic little fuck holes, you’ll still be mine.” The softness of his tone was a harsh contrast to his words, making your head spin. The speed in which he pulled out and flipped you over made your head spin even more though. He leaned back over you and grabbed your cheeks with one hand while the other positioned his cock at your entrance again, pushing back in. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He said quietly and your brows furrowed as you looked away. “Tell me, baby. Tell me this whore body is mine to use however I want.” You whined loudly and he gripped your face tighter. 

“I’m yours.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling. He jerked his hand back and slapped you across the cheek before placing it on your neck and squeezing hard. You looked away from him as a scared whimper escaped you. 

“What was that?” 

“I’m yours! I- I’m yours…” You sobbed out. His lips curled up into a satisfied smirk. 

“Tell me you’re only good for being my cocksleeve.” 

“I- I’m only good for being your cocksleeve.” You whimpered. 

“Tell me you’re my breeding bitch whose only purpose is to make babies and take cock.” He growled, grip tightening on your neck. You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, then shook your head. “You know it’s true so fucking tell me.” He warned, pushing down on your windpipe until you gasped for air. 

“I’m your breeding- bitch whose only purpose is…” You were actually struggling to breathe now, barely able to get the words out, but he didn’t seem to care, “to make babies and take cock.” You wheezed, making him loosen his grip. You gasped in a breath as your chest heaved. 

“That’s right. Now… I know I said if you give me what I want, I’ll give you what you want… and I can feel how your pathetic cunt’s about to cream all over my cock, but… like you said, your only purpose is to make babies and take cock. Breeding bitches don’t need orgasms.” The choked sob you let out was probably the worst part of all of this because it was genuine. You really were getting close and you were looking forward to that release— for one moment to just forget what was happening. 

“No- no, please.” You whimpered, eyes filling with tears for an entirely new, more humiliating, reason. “Please, Jackson, I’ve been good. I- I did what you said— I gave you what you wanted.” You cried, bottom lip wobbling. 

“I know, honey.” He cooed condescendingly. “Other than the insolence and fighting back, you’ve been so good, haven’t you?” Your frown deepened at that. 

“Please, I’m sorry— I’m sorry, just please let me come,” Your voice had a whiny edge to it that you couldn’t control. 

“You poor thing… Look at me, baby, there you go.” Once you were staring into those hypnotizing blue eyes, he continued, voice much lower now. “I want you… to remember this moment. I want you to remember the way you begged your rapist to let you come.” You swallowed down a whimper, throat bobbing under his hand. 

“The next time you think you’re anything more than a pair of tits and a set of holes, think of this moment.” Your brows furrowed and you bit your trembling lip, trying not to cry. No matter how much you wished to deny it though, his words had you barreling toward your orgasm. “Do you understand?” He asked softly and you nodded, making his grip tighten on your neck. 

“Yes.” You whispered, voice shaking. 

“Good. Now I’m tired of listening to your fucking whining.” He said, pulling out, then flipping you back onto your knees and pushing your head down as he filled you again. He was chasing his orgasm now— his thrusts growing more frenzied and desperate, quiet grunts getting just a little bit louder. He brought his other hand up to join the one on your back, using it to hold himself up and keep you down at the expense of your lungs and breathing. 

“God- I can feel your pathetic little fuck hole clenching down on my cock. Are you close?” All you could do to respond was make a muffled noise against the sheets. “You better not fucking come.” He spat. “You don’t want that pretty neck broken do you?” He asked, softer, making you let out a loud sob. 

He was pounding you ruthlessly now, hips smacking your ass so hard you’d probably bruise. His balls hitting your clit with every thrust made you jolt each time and it was getting harder to stave off your orgasm. His movements started to slow but became rougher, almost pushing you forward from the intensity. When he finally stilled with a low groan, you whined and shifted uncomfortably. You could feel hot come filling you up with each twitch of his cock and every time he tried to push a little deeper, your back arched even more, to the point where it was starting to hurt, rather than just feel uncomfortable. He let out a heavy breath and pulled out, then sat back on his heels as he pulled your folds apart. 

Hour two

(I know it’s cut kind of awkwardly but this one shot turned into 18k words so I had to cut it somewhere skdhdk)

I have some questions rq. Pls answer🙏🏻

I was maybe thinking of saying “hour 1” etc instead of “part 1” for each part since.. yk it takes place over the course of serveral hours lol. Is that dumb? Should I just keep it as “part 1”?

Also I chose the title when the fic was only the length of part 1 and im not sure if I should keep it or not so lmk if you think I should make it something that relates to the whole fic rather than just one comment in the first part lol

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @nashja @rentaldarling @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @halleysc6met @babaohhhriley (didn’t let me tag ->) @deceitfuldevout @crunchsworld @bluujaiwrites @idkdudsworld @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @aviamulier @xxorazz

[harleehazbinfics]

Dear Baby, Chapter 4

Dear Baby, m.list | Author's Profile

A/N: i just turned 22, the big, two-two. Man, it's crazy to think, i used to be the youngest one when i was off running around and joining discord servers. god- Word Count: 1500+

“Miss (y/n) is there a baby in here?” the little princess asks as she gently rubs your tummy making you giggle at the fluttering feeling.

“Yes, there is, my sweet princess. And any day now I’ll be expecting my first child,” you reply swiping her hair behind her ear.

It had been several weeks since Charlie’s first visit and Lucifer arranged for her to come visit during Saturdays consistently, which Lilith who I heard begrudgingly approved of. So, days pass idly where Lucifer and I would go on with our daily lives of dining together, working together and relaxing when we could together, considering my health and growth of my little one. I refrained from going to hospitals or meeting with doctors to lessen the risk of news getting out about Lucifer hiding a Goetia in his castle. That would be an absolute nightmare. So, he helped me pick up some parenting books he already had and bought me a few inconspicuously to aid me. Which have arrived while I entertained his precious daughter while he received them.

Charlie lets out an awe with stars in her eyes as she continues petting my belly and adds, “Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl? I think it’ll be a boy!”

“I don’t mind either. But it’ll be a while before we get to meet them. When they come out of me, they’ll still be in an egg!” you explain to her making her tilt her head in confusion.

“An egg? Do all babies come from eggs?” she asks with furrowed brows confused.

“Do you remember who the Ars Goetia are?” you ask her which she shakes her head to, “I’m part of the Ars Goetia and it’s our job to go to Earth as representatives of his majesty and report to him about what happens on Earth. We Goetia’s take the features of birds. To signify our status as messengers for his majesty.”

She carefully thinks about what you said and her eyes light up, “So, you’re a bird?! Can you show me your real form please?”

You gave her a laugh and nod, “Alright, alright.”

You closed your eyes as you allowed your magic to transform you back to your usual form. As you open back your eyes, you see Charlie looking at you with stars in her eyes.

“Wow! You’re so cool! You look very beautiful, Miss (y/n)!” she gushes with a high tone making you smile at her compliments.

“Thank you, princess. However, I think you’re far more beautiful than I,” you say as you pinched her cheek making her giggle at your touch.

“So, that’s why you’re gonna lay an egg! I see,” she says as she understood the reason behind it, “May I touch your hair?”

You dipped your head and allowed her to caress your feathers, “Yes, you may, my dear princess.”

She touches you feathers in fascination. Your hair was smooth, silky, and ticklish to touch that it entertained her ‘til you heard a knock on the door. Your feathers puffed up from the scare and transformed back to your human form and winked at Charlie with a finger to your lips telling her to keep it a secret, which she mimics cutely.

“Charlie? There you are!” Lucifer calls her relieved, “Come, your mom is here to pick you up.”

She hops off your lap and reaches for you hand to hold trying to help you when you stood up. The three of you walked out of the room together hand in hand with Charlie in the middle.

“What were you doing with (y/n)?” Lucifer asks playfully seeing how giddy his daughter was after talking to you alone.

She looks at you briefly before settling back to her father, “It’s a secret!”

When you arrive at the waiting room, you see Lilith with her arms crossed waiting for your arrival. Eyes still hidden behind her shades making you feel intimidated as you realized you were still holding hands with their daughter with her husband. You gently pull away your hand, which thankfully, Charlie didn’t mind as she kisses her father’s cheek goodbye.

She then walks back to you and pulls you down to her height and also kisses your cheek making you look surprised.

“See you next week, Dad! Miss (y/n)!” she waves as she walks out with her mother.

You and Lucifer wave back with a satisfied smile. However, you check on Lilith who pulls down her shades ever so slightly and see her scrutinizing glare. You hiccupped at the intimidation and pull down your hand in shame.

“Are you okay?” Lucifer asks you worriedly, seeing your change in behavior when the door closes.

“Yes, of course,” you try to assure him which only earns you a doubtful look making you fess, “It just seems like you wife doesn’t like me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that happened. She just might be venting her anger at you. I’m sorry,” he sighs.

“It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle,” you reply with a confident smile.

“No, you shouldn’t be treated like this. It’s unfair to pull you into our fight,” he grumbles as he sits on the couch holding his head.

You fall silent, not finding the words to reply to him. You didn’t have to as he takes your free hand and gently tugs you to his side.

“I should tell you why we split up,” he says before clearing his throat.

You look at him in surprise, sitting next to him. Then patiently waiting for him explain his situation.

“We got into a massive fight after a few centuries coming into hell. I was cooped up in my room, feeling miserable about myself for disobeying God and ending up here. I just couldn’t find a good way to cope with that loss, you know? As much as people portray that I have no regrets and I’ve turned my back against Heaven. They couldn’t be more wrong about that assumption. I love Heaven, but I betrayed their trust in me. And that is something I have to deal about myself every day.

“So, after gathering my bearings so a moment, I realized what Lilith was doing while I cowered away. I learnt that she was gathering power from all those who’ve fallen here. This alerted me and the angels. I confronted her about it and asked her to stop. I just didn’t want another problem to arise, more so now that we’ve fallen here. We had nowhere to turn to if we started something with Heaven. But… she shook me off and told me I was a coward, and asked where that bold man she met in that garden then left me, taking our daughter with her,” he confesses with his head tilted down in shame, making me cover his forearm to comfort him.

“So, she wanted to rebel against Heaven for forsaking her?” you ask cautiously.

Lucifer lets out another sigh and replies, “It would appear so. I wouldn’t blame her. Aside for not standing beside her for the same reason, I think she also hates me for her dragging into this mess.”

He covers his face with his hand. Guilt, shame and frustration filling his entirety. You looked at him worriedly as he fell into another pit of self-loathing.

“I’m sure no one would have foretold this to happen,” you say softly taking the hand that covered his face and held both his hands together, “But, if you think about it. Charlie being here with you, isn’t that the best thing that could have come out of this situation?”

He looks at you with teary eyes in realization and smiles as he nods, agreeing with me. You return it before wiping his eyes. He gives you a laugh feeling your touch ticklish and takes them back in his hands.

“Until now, her anger hadn’t blown off. The only reason she’s allowed me to see Charlie was because of our love for her, and thanks to you, for giving me courage to see her again. If it weren’t for you, I’d imagine my relationship with her would be strained,” he says gratefully squeezing my hands and giving me a warm smile.

You flush red at the look he’s giving you. Feeling fluttery inside, unclear if it were the butterflies or the little one inside you, but nonetheless, it was a pleasant feeling.

“You’re welcome, your majesty,” you reply with a smile of your own, cheeks red making him think of how lovely you looked right now.

“Call me Lucifer, please,” he requested from you as his red flush gone unnoticeable with his red cheeks.

“Lucifer,” you call him, making him sigh dreamily from how intimately you called him.

‘Uh, oh,’ he thought. There it was. That sticky feeling in his heart as he thought of you.

It was no brainer for Lucifer to deduce what he was feeling right now. He’s fallen for you. Your warmth, kindness, beauty, and much more he could list down in more than 6000 words. You were very special to him. And he hoped he was as special to you as you are for him.

Dear Baby, Taglist:

@wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @roboticsuccubus83 @simbalioness @reachthestars @atlas-rin @luc1fersducky @condy-wants-a-cookie @lovestruck-enby @azullynxx @delightedtosee @beansluvsmilo @cherry-4200 @aria-tempest @lvstyangel @0strawberrysorbet0 @corvid007 @enby-goblin @whydosnakesnotdance @willow404 @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @hahalameee @manachpo @dionysusismypatrongod @obessivlyonline @idkwhy5000 @gabile18 @bontensbabygirl @rocketxgirl @pastelpinkhobbies @theblueslytherin @purplerose291 @sappire904

[winchesterwild78]

Broken pt 5

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: a little bit of angst, but mostly fluff.

A/N:  Idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. This one is a little different than what I usually write. This chapter has a little bit of sunshine for our couple.

Minors DNI 18+

Jensen grabbed me and pulled me close to him. “Pregnant? Really?” Tears filled his eyes. “Yes, Jens. We’re going to have a baby.” 

He took me by the hand and led me to the couch. “Sit here baby. I’m gonna fix you something to eat.” I chuckled, “Jensen, I’m not hungry right now.” “Well you haven’t eaten much, let me get you some fruit or something, please.” His green eyes flicked to mine, “Please baby. Let me take care of you and our baby.” 

I nodded and my hand instinctively went to my belly. “Okay Jensen. How about some apples and water?” 

He smiled and went to the kitchen. A few minutes later he came back with a plate of apples and a bottle of water. 

“Thank you, Jensen.” He smiled and sat next to me. 

“Jensen, I think we should wait to tell everyone. It’s still very early and I want to make sure everything is okay before we do.” 

“Whatever you want, baby. 

Jensen and I had decided to head back home, well Toronto since we wanted to see the doctor right away. 

He booked the plane tickets and we were heading home the next day. I was ready but really didn’t want to leave our little cocoon we found ourselves in. 

Being here with him, in the silence of the mountains made everything else seem to disappear. He however, needed to get back to work too. 

The flight home was uneventful and Jensen let Eric know he was back. His filming schedule was set to resume in two days.

We were able to get set up with a local doctor who thankfully had an opening today. As we walked into the office Jensen was immediately recognized, but thankfully everyone was professional. 

The nurse immediately took us back to prevent us from being bombarded by people. I was thankful. Dr Ellington was sweet. She was obviously a fan of Jensen’s and was a little star struck, but maintained her composure. She confirmed the pregnancy and she ordered an ultrasound. Checking the heartbeat and measurement she estimated I was about 5-6 weeks along. 

We talked to her about my endometriosis and asked if it would have any effect on the pregnancy. She explained that with endometriosis I had a higher risk for pregnancy loss and complications that could lead to delivering via c-section. 

I grabbed Jensen’s hand and squeezed. She saw the fear in my eyes, “It’s okay, sweetie. We will just keep you coming back every week and keep a close eye on you and the little nugget.” I nodded and let out the breath I was holding. 

Jensen asked more questions as I took in everything she said. I was terrified and wanted to make sure I did everything right. We scheduled the next appointment, next Wednesday and we left. 

“Jens, what about work? You can’t take off every week to go to the doctor’s office with me.” He grabbed my hand and held it tight, “Yes I can, and yes I will. I told you, you and this baby are a priority. I’ll talk to Eric and we will work it out.” 

I nodded. Thankful for such an amazing husband. I could see he was really trying. I knew he was worried about what the doctor said, but I also knew he wouldn’t burden me with the worry. 

“Jens, I’m scared.” He glanced over at me and nodded, “I know baby. I am too, but we will do whatever it takes to keep both of you safe and healthy.” 

The next few months Jensen and I fell into a comfortable groove. He would go to do his shoots and on days I had an appointment he would go in late. Some days I’d go with him, others I would go back to the apartment. 

As my pregnancy progressed the doctor wanted me to rest as much as possible, so that meant on set I was confined to the trailer. 

I was laying on the couch in Jensen’s trailer as he was on set. He had brought lunch and we snuggled on the couch until he had to go back. The baby was active today so he sat with his hand on my belly for most of his break. 

I loved watching him sing and talk to the baby. He was made to be a father. I had a late afternoon appointment today so Jensen was working on getting his scenes done before we had to leave. 

Laying on the couch I fell asleep. I dreamed of my father again. 

“Daddy. It’s been so long.” I ran and threw my arms around him. “Hey peanut. Looks like you’re growing a bit.” He chuckled as he touched my belly. “Yeah. The baby is growing and is healthy. They are just keeping an eye on us to make sure we stay that way.” My dad nodded, “Yeah. Don’t worry, sweetie. He’s going to be just fine. I promise.” Before I could ask him what he meant I heard Jensen’s soft voice, “Baby, wake up. It’s time to go to the doctor.” 

I stretched and looked at him. He had already showered and changed. I was a little disappointed. I loved seeing him in his Soldier Boy costume. “Did you have a good nap, baby?” Jensen asked as he helped me get up. 

“Yeah, I dreamed about daddy again. He called the baby a “he”.” 

Jensen smiled, “Well, maybe it is a boy. That would be fine with me.” His green eyes sparkled. 

Arriving at the doctor’s office it was a bit busier than I expected. Unfortunately that meant we had to wait in the waiting room for a bit. It always made me nervous, but most of the people there were respectful and left us alone. 

My leg bounced nervously. Jensen smirked and placed his hand on my leg. He leaned over and kissed my cheek, “Hey, it’s okay baby.” I looked at him and nodded. 

A younger woman came in and sat near us. She kept looking up at Jensen and then over at me. She gasped softly, realizing who he was. We hadn’t officially announced the pregnancy yet, so her seeing us made me even more nervous. 

I looked over at her and pleaded with my eyes. Jensen saw the concern on my face. He decided to be his charming self. “Excuse me ma’am?” He flashed that killer smile. She looked up and blushed, “Yes?” he extended his hand, “I’m Jensen, and this is my wife Y/N.” 

She nodded, “Yeah, I know who you are. I’m a fan. Sorry for staring. I didn’t know she was pregnant.” Jensen smiled and nodded, “Yeah, we haven’t announced it yet. We’re just trying to make sure everything is okay with her and the baby before we do. She just recently lost her dad and we’ve been grieving and working on keeping the baby safe. I would really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone.” 

She looked at me and then back at Jensen, “Oh I am so sorry to hear about your dad, but yes, totally. Your secret is safe with me. I promise. I’m having a difficult pregnancy too, so I completely understand. I hope everything works out with the baby.” Jensen placed his hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry you’re having a difficult pregnancy. That has to be scary, and thank you for keeping our secret. We really do appreciate it. What’s your name, darlin’?” “Oh Karly Johnson, and this little bean is going to be Samantha Jane.” 

“Well it’s nice to meet you Karly, and I hope Samantha continues to do well. Thanks again.” She nodded and he sat down.

A few minutes later we were being called back. After being checked, bloodwork done, and other tests done it was time to move to ultrasound. 

Jensen helped me lay back on the table and the ultrasound tech got the machine ready. 

“You two ready to see your baby?” She asked as she grabbed the wand. We nodded. Jensen held my hand as we heard the heartbeat. Tears filled my eyes. It was so strong and steady. 

“So, do we want to know what we’re having?” I looked at Jensen and he looked at me, we both said yes at the same time. 

She moved the wand around and then turned the screen more towards us, “So it looks like it’s a boy.” I gasped softly and Jensen chuckled. “A boy?” I whispered. She nodded and showed us how she knew. It was clearly a boy. 

She printed pictures for us, I got cleaned up and changed then we left. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off the pictures. Jensen couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Jens we’re having a boy.” I beamed. “Yeah baby we are.” He couldn’t contain his smile. 

A little while later we were back home and I kept looking at the pictures. Jensen stood with this body leaned against the doorframe watching me. 

She’s so beautiful and now she’s giving me a boy. I can’t believe it. I’m the luckiest man alive. 

He pushed off the doorframe and sat beside me. “Baby?” I looked up at him, “Hmm?” “Are you ready to go public? Once we tell our family it’s a boy.” 

I took a deep breath, “Yeah. I guess we can’t hide it forever. Especially after being recognized today.” 

He nodded. We called our families and they were over the moon with the news the baby was a boy. 

Jensen wanted the announcement to be cute. So he grabbed a sign and wrote 1978 on it and had me take a picture, then he wrote Y/B/Y on it and took a picture, then wrote coming soon and the due date on it and took a picture with a pair of blue booties. 

He put it in a collage and posted it on social media with the caption: “Baby Boy Ackles joining the family soon.” 

The comments, likes and shares were instant. The love was overwhelming. One comment really melted my heart, “Aww that’s perfect. She just lost her dad and now she’s having a boy. I bet her dad sent him to her. 💙 Can’t wait to meet baby boy.” 

Jensen smiled as he pulled me close. “I love you so much baby.” “I love you too, Jens.” 

He placed his hand on my belly, “I love you too. So much.” I smiled and he kissed me softly. “Come on darlin’, let’s get you something to eat.” I smiled and nodded. 

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[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Twelve: Reminded me of You

You leaned against the table, watching a few other people walk in and out of the room. Although it was after class hours, there had more people in the studio than usual, though thankfully nothing too overcrowded.

“Hey, here’s your stuff, i’m sorry we had to meet up kinda late again,” Ino spoke as he handed you the folded shirt and pants. “Thanks, and don’t worry about it, I was gonna come in to work on Yuki’s dress anyway.” You fixed the outfit into your bag, and began walking off, Ino following behind. “Good luck on your project Ino, from what you’ve showed me I think it’s going really well.” From the short time you’ve been around him, you could tell Ino was very optimistic and social. When you met with him he’d usually go off talking about whatever to keep the conversation going, and it always seemed to work.

“Thanks y/n, I really hope so, though I think i’m just gonna go get something from the shop outside my dorm building and sleep. I’m done for today. What about you?” You two continued making your way out as you talked. “I’m visiting my friend, the one that’s helping out Yuji with his project.” From past conversations you had found out that Ino knew Yuji, and apparently Megumi too.

“Oh cool, you gonna go help them too?” “No, just bringing them some stuff from the store, Nobara sent me the location.” “Oh nice, well if we’re heading the same way I don’t mind walking around with you.” “Sure that’s fine.”

Unlucky for you, once you bought everything you wanted, two large bottle sodas and a couple bags of chips and candies, the cashier had told you they had just run out of bags. You tried your best to carry it, putting a couple in your bag, but not much could fit and the sodas were becoming uncomfortable to carry. You started considering just leaving some of it behind. “Need help?” You turned your head to see Ino, who only had a bag of chips in his hand. “If we’re going to the same building I can help you drop it off.” “um well.. that would be helpful, yeah.”

Yuji opened the door, only to find you and Ino, both with hands full. “Hey Yuji, surprise!”

“Y/n, Ino what are you guys doing here?” “I’m just helping out, but it’s nice to see you man!”

“Who is it?” you heard an all too familiar voice ask from behind Yuji. He whipped his head around to face Megumi who had shown up beside him. “Hey Megumi, long time no see!” Ino announced.

“Hey Megumi!”

Megumi got up from the small living area and walked to the kitchen island in the shared dorm between Junpei and his roommate, who was currently out somewhere. He saw Yuji excitedly grab a bag of chips and rip it open. Junpei leaning against the counter laughing at his behaviour.

“Megumi, I got you something, I remember you said you liked things that pair with ginger, and I saw these and thought of you, I don’t know if you’ll like it but there’s other chips if you don’t want them.” You held up a bag of some type of Lay’s flavored chips with ginger, he had never really seen them before, but just the fact that you had bought them with him in mind was enough for him to give them a try. “Thanks, these are actually my favorite.” A white lie never hurt anyone. Yuji spoke up, “Really I thought that-” “These are my favorite.”

Author’s Note: when i was writing the chip part i had lays wasabi and ginger chips in mind, they’re low key good ngl i recommend if anyone likes those flavors

hope you guys enjoyed!

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[httpiastri]

PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER SIX (BARCELONA & SPIELBERG)

genre: angst, fluff, comfort, the usual.

word count: 6.8k

warnings: more heartbreak 😭 sorry but it has to get real bad before it gets good again

author's note: aaaaa thank you all for your patience!! december 7th is officially pepe day now. <3 im kinda mean to pepe here tho, but i also did one good thing which... if you notice what i mean when i say i gave him what he deserves, lmk and i'll give your head a little pat. okay anyways, hope you enjoy :) (also!! i feel like this isn't my best work but i am so so excited to write the silverstone chapter!! stay tuned for that for way more action (and heartbreak)!!!)

series masterlist

BARCELONA

returning to racing after a break always comes with a mix of emotions; anticipation, nerves, and the trace of hope that lingers in the air. this time is no different.

qualifying went great – another session in the top ten meant a good starting point for both races, a result that left the whole team buzzing with optimism for their home weekend.

but the real headline of the day wasn't about you; it belonged to someone else. the boy who had earned his first pole position in f2.

paul.

even though he was the on average fastest qualifier last season, he didn't grab a single pole – but now, he's finally done it. and when you close your eyes, you can still see the way his face lit up with a grin as he got out of his car and celebrated with his team.

it's well past sundown by now, but the paddock is still buzzing with anticipation for the weekend when it's finally time for you to go back to the hotel. having said goodbye to all remaining staff members, you pick up your backpack from the floor and make your way to the door of the truck. right then, your phone buzzes with a text – a congratulatory one from your father, happy with your results for once.

well, as happy as "congrats, good job today" can be interpreted.

with your eyes stuck on the screen of your phone, trying to figure out an answer, you don't even notice that you're about to walk right into someone as you exit the truck. thankfully, the other person does notice, placing their hands on your upper arms to keep you from stumbling into them. you almost consider not looking up, too embarrassed to want to acknowledge that this incident even occurred, but then you recognize the voice. "in a rush somewhere?"

your gaze snaps up instantly, meeting a pair of baby blue eyes slightly covered by a fringe of gorgeous, blonde curls.

right. the hitech truck is parked right next to the campos one this weekend. you already knew this was bound to cause some awkwardness.

"no, i'm not, sorry-" you shake your head to stop your rambling, instead taking a deep breath. "congrats on your pole position."

paul smiles at that – a very gentle one, but still one you recognize to be sincere. "it's pretty great, isn't it?" he asks, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "i mean, i still have to make good use of it, but..."

"i'm sure you will."

a few moments of silence follow. it's not too awkward per se; after everything that's happened between you both recently, you feel a lot more comfortable and safe around him after monaco. but then again, the last time you spoke was in the middle of the night, when you were dizzy and weird and possibly drunk, with your boyfriend sleeping just a few feet away with no idea of what was going on.

when you try to speak again, paul speaks up, too. "i really should-"

"could you wait here for just a moment?"

you really should go – a picture of ollie pops up in your head, and you suddenly feel an urge to check that his promise ring is still wrapped around your finger – but something in you tells you to nod. paul drops into the hitech truck again, leaving you to wait outside for a few moments, before re-appearing in front of you with a little box covered in wrapping paper in his hands.

"i know your birthday was the other week, so," he starts, holding out the present to you. "happy birthday."

for a couple of seconds, you don't say anything and don't move even an inch, just blinking down at the box in his hands. "are you serious?"

"you don't have to take it," he adds at that, suddenly a little insecure after seeing your reaction. "i just thought... i don't know, i'm-"

"stop, of course i want it," you intervene, shaking your head slightly as you finally take the box in your hands. it's heavier than you'd expected; you wouldn't have been surprised if it had been just a box filled with air, some kind of prank, but this box definitely has some kind of content. when you remove the wrapper, you're left with just a classic, black jewelry box. "paul..."

"i bought it for your birthday last year, but... you know that stuff happened." he shifts a little in his place, hands moving back to his front pockets. "since we're kind of friends again, i wanted you to have it. i have no use for it anyway."

as you slide off the lid, you almost lose your breath there and then. inside the box lies a golden chain, with a little heart pendant hanging from it – engraved with your initials.

"are you serious?" you ask, but you don't wait for the answer before stepping forward, engulfing him in a big hug. paul hesitates for a moment, and it makes you freeze. was it too much too soon? too big of a reaction for just a gift he would've thrown away otherwise? but then, you feel his arms wrap around your waist, and you can relax again. "thank you so much. it's gorgeous."

"you don't have to wear it if you don't want to," he says as you pull apart from the hug, but you shake your head.

"of course i'll wear it. i probably won't ever take it off."

but despite how happy you are that he not only remembered your birthday but made an effort to bring this to you, there's one thought that just won't leave your mind.

why did he keep it all this time, when he could've thrown it away or sold it?

"don't be too hard on yourself," you say, walking over to where pepe sits on the couch in the campos truck. your hand instinctively reaches down to his hair, messing up his dark fringe. "you did well, and you're going to do even better tomorrow. i have no doubts."

the spaniard merely groans, arms crossing over his chest as he slouches down even further in his seat. "i wanted to do better in front of my home crowd, you know?" he asks, shaking his head. "last year i won, and... i just wanted to give them as big of a show."

"you still can," you tell him as you slip onto the couch right next to him. "you have all race tomorrow."

your teammate rolls his eyes at this, but you see the hint of a smile on his lips. "you're just optimistic because you did well..."

"well, finishing in fifth after starting in fourth isn't the best i've done. but points are points."

"still, you- wait, is that a new necklace?" he asks, eyes darting to the pendant hanging around your neck. "let me see it!"

you're just about to swat his hand away when he reaches for it, feeling your cheeks heat up – from bashfulness or guilt, you're not sure – but you stop yourself in the last second. "it's a birthday present."

"from who?"

your answer doesn't come out as confident as you had hoped. "my mum."

he gazes up at you, an eyebrow raised. "you don't have to lie, you know," he says before looking down at the necklace again. "it's really sweet that ollie would buy you something like this."

ollie?

you can't help but look down in your lap at the mention of your boyfriend, your eyes already prickling with unshed tears. definitely guilt this time. pepe notices instantly, as he always does, and reaches over to place a hand on your arm. he doesn't say anything, knowing that you'll explain if you want to. "it's not from ollie…"

the confusion grows even stronger in the poor spaniard, frown so deep the lines in his forehead might go permanent.

"ollie gave me a ring. a promise ring, even…"

"a promise ring?" pepe asks, a gentle smile on his lips. "so things are really getting serious between you two? where is it?"

it hasn't occurred to you before this moment that the ring isn't actually on your finger right now.

you've been taking it off for most sessions – and whenever you work out, do the dishes, shower, sleep… really any chance you get. not because you don't like the ring; it truly is beautiful, but something about it feels off.

maybe it's the fact that it feels like he gave it to you just to trap you with him. it's a thought you've been trying to shake off since the moment he slid it onto your finger; the piece of jewelry should only be bringing you good feelings. why else would someone give a promise ring, if not to vow their unwavering commitment and ask for the same in return?

but with ollie, it doesn't feel like a shared promise – it feels somewhat like a leash.

as much as you've tried to convince yourself otherwise, it's hard to ignore the underlying truth that's been gnawing at you. he didn't give it to you because he wanted to, but because he needed to. like some kind of proof that you wouldn't slip away, that no one else would steal your attention.

it was more damage control than romance.

"it's somewhere in my bag," you say, throwing a glance towards your backpack on the other side of the room, before looking down at your lap again.

"somewhere in your bag?" pepe is trying so hard not to intrude or be too rude; he wants to be supportive, but something about your actions and words is making him suspicious. "you don't really care for it, then? is it ugly?"

"it's gorgeous, but… i just…"

he takes your silence as a sign to keep going. "who gave you the necklace, then?"

the first tear falls from your eye now, accompanied by a few more slow drops that roll down your cheeks. you're not in any rush to wipe them away; you know pepe has been studying you cautiously for a while now, so he definitely noticed already. but it isn't until you remain silent, other than a few occasional sniffles, that it clicks in his head.

"you're kidding," he says with a shake of his head. "paul has got a lot of nerve, you know that?" there's steam blowing out of his ears by now, and he stands up in just a second. "let me go punch the shit out of him-"

"don't!" you manage to grab the sleeve of his maroon redbull hoodie before he gets the chance to leave, pleading eyes staring up at him now. "i wouldn't be wearing it if i wasn't alright with it, i promise."

"then- what?" confusion takes over his expression once again, and he's still struggling to find his words when you pull him down to sit next to you again. "you're a smart girl. i think you know that the charm you're wearing is a heart. and, well…" he shrugs, still unsure of what to say – and with the whole situation, to be honest. "boys don't give away hearts to female friends."

"they don't?"

pepe shakes his head. "i thought you loved ollie."

"i do," you counter instantly, though you don't sound very sure.

"really?"

"well, i- i think i do." you reach up to your cheeks, brushing away a few tears from them. "maybe… maybe i don't. i don't know, pepe."

pepe has no idea how to react or what to say, it's easy to tell – so you choose to explain it all to him.

you tell him about how you were still in love with paul, even after breaking up with him. you tell him about how ollie wasn't supposed to be a rebound, how you felt like everything seemed so perfect from the start, but you could never really grow past that initial stage of adoration and go deeper.

you tell him about all of the moments that have made you doubt; the little interactions with paul where he's acted like the paul he used to be before your breakup, and the times you've been with ollie and felt like you should've been more present than you could be.

you tell him about the guilt of knowing ollie loves you, but not having been able to say it back even once. and you tell him that no matter how much you want to love ollie, no matter how perfect he is to you and how it all just clicks, you still aren't sure if you actually do feel it.

"can i give you my honest opinion on this?" pepe asks when your sobs have died down, streams of tears turned into mere teardrops waiting at the corner of your eye. "what paul did… you may see it as just something sweet that a good friend would do. but something is seriously suspicious about it." he pauses for a moment, and when you remain silent, he speaks up again. "like, why would he still keep that necklace a year later? and why would he bring it this weekend?"

"what are you saying, that he's still in love with me?" you question, eyebrows furrowed. "that he's trying to steal me back?"

"i don't know exactly what he's thinking, but i think you should be cautious." he leans forward ever so slightly, placing both hands on your shoulders. "i think that – and i say this in the most platonic way ever – you're so lovely that if someone were to fall for you once, i don't think there's such a thing as falling out of love. i'm sure he still feels what he felt a year ago."

"and what, you think i'm just going to let him steal me away? like it's that easy?" you shake your head. "i get to choose who i'm with, not paul."

"don't think that i don't know you're a strong and independent woman. but, you also just confessed to me that you're not even sure if you're in love with ollie, so…" he takes a deep breath. "don't get mad at me for thinking that you haven't really made up your mind, or for being suspicious of paul."

"they actually called you in to pit?"

ollie groans, running a hand through his messy, newly cleaned curls. "my steering was completely off," he says, leaning back against the desk in his hotel room. "what was i supposed to do? i had like ten warnings for track limits."

you shrug, flopping back against the bed behind you. "you did what you could, ollie," you say, hoping to bring him at least some solace.

however, the tone of his voice is far from one you had expected. "well, that hasn't been enough all season, has it?" he counters, crossing his arms over his chest. "i've barely scored any points all season. even compared to rookies, i'm terrible."

he doesn't need to say the name for you to know exactly who he means.

your eyes widen at this, and you struggle to find the words. you knew he's always been setting a hard standard for himself to live up to, but since when was he self-deprecating? "darling, we still have half the season left. it'll be alright-"

"easy for you to say," he snaps. "you're not at the back of the field every single race."

you've never seen him like this. he's practically oozing with anger, his gaze drilling holes into your soul.

you knew he was mad, frustrated and about a million other things.

you just didn't expect him to take it out on you.

he realizes it instantly – he notices the way your eyes flicker to the floor, your shoulders slumping slightly and your breath hitching – and regret flashes across his face immediately.

you press your hands into the bed, pushing yourself up to stand. "i think… it's time to go back to my own room," you say, voice much lower than before. "early race tomorrow, you know…"

ollie makes it over to you in just two quick strides, hands finding your hips easily. "hey, i'm really sorry," he says. when your gaze remains fixed on the floor, one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek, tilting your face up. "i didn't mean to snap at you like that. i'm just frustrated, and… you didn't deserve that."

"it's alright, i get it." you try to put on as much of a genuine smile as possible. you do understand it, at least partially; he's under a lot of stress and doesn't mean whatever he's saying. but at the same time, are you really the person he should snap at? "i really should go, though."

he gives you a nod. "kiss?"

he leans in, pausing just before your lips meet as if giving you the chance to pull away. you don't, and the kiss feels tentative, as if he's testing the waters. there's no spark, it just feels... mechanical. a fleeting press of lips that in no way conveys the comfort he's trying to offer.

ollie pauses for a moment, his nose brushing yours as he whispers. "i really am sorry..." his grip on your waist tightens momentarily, as if trying to hold onto something that's slipping away.

you nod faintly, not trusting yourself to speak. the warmth that usually lingers after a kiss is missing, leaving only an awkward stillness. you step out of his grasp, and before he can say anything else, you've grabbed your bag and made your way out through the door.

the sound of your footsteps against the carpet fades quickly as you walk down the hall, leaving a silence that seems to echo louder than his earlier apology.

p7 to p3 in the feature.

another good race, another podium, another congratulatory text from your father. what could be better?

the post-race media duties took ages this time, and yet, pepe promised to wait in the truck until you were ready to leave. despite the fact that he's most likely drowning in envy, seeing his teammate get on the podium in his own home race, the smile on his lips as he hugs you when you've come back to the truck actually seems genuine. "are you sure you don't want to stay?" you ask as you part from the embrace. "breathe in the atmosphere some more?"

he shakes his head softly. "with the roadshow and fans forum on wednesday, i feel like i've had tons of atmosphere by now," he says, doing his best to hide the hint of pain that attempts to make its way onto his face. "maybe i'll see some fans on the way to your hotel, who knows."

with your bag slung across your shoulder and your third-place trophy securely in your embrace, the two of you finally make your way out of the truck, saying your goodbyes and thanks to all nearby staff on the way. everyone seems to be in a good mood – even apparently your boyfriend, who walks out of his truck just as you're about to walk past it.

"congrats on the points," ollie says as he gives pepe a pat on his shoulder. "even got the fastest lap, right? well done, mate."

the spaniard offers him a smile back. "pretty alright day," he hums, before looking over at you. "though, this one was outstanding."

"isn't she always?" ollie asks, hand instead finding the side of your waist as he leans down to press a fleeting kiss to your cheek. "good job today, love."

"thank you," you answer, unable to stop smiling so brightly. yesterday night is long forgotten by now, your argument seeming nothing but tiny as you look at the bigger picture. how could something like that bring you down on a weekend like this one? "i think-"

you don't think he intended to cut you off by the action, but your breath hitches in your throat mid-sentence as you see ollie's hand nearing your throat. it takes a few moments to realize what he's doing, and when he's got your heart pendant in his hand, it's already too late for you to react. "cute necklace," he says, flipping it over to see the initials engraved in it. "where did you get it?"

now that you've practiced this answer once, it comes out more confident and believable. at least, you hope it does. "it's a birthday gift from my mum."

pepe seems to understand the subconscious signals you send him, because he remains quiet even if he doesn't agree with you lying to ollie like this. ollie puts on a smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and brushes his thumb over the initials again. "i've got some competition, huh," he says jokingly, but you hope he doesn't catch your small, nervous swallow.

more than you could ever guess.

his words make you instinctively take your hand into your other behind your back, fingers instantly reaching to check the length of your ring finger. empty. you just must've forgotten to put the ring back on after the race. no big deal, right?

pepe can't hear your thoughts but he takes the now awkward silence as a sign that your mind is spiraling again. "we were just about to leave," he speaks up, giving your shoulder a pat. "you coming with us, ollie?"

he shakes his head, finally letting go of the necklace. "i have another meeting to get to," ollie answers. "but i'm sure i'll see you both tonight?"

you and pepe both nod as you part ways with your boyfriend, gentle smiles on your lips. however, your stress is practically oozing off your skin, and pepe picks up on it instantly. he slings an arm across your shoulders, holding you close as he leads you down the paddock. "he didn't catch on," he reassures you, seemingly managing to read your mind this time. "but it's better if he hears it from you than someone else, you know."

you swallow down the lump in your throat, giving him a nod. "he won't overreact, right?"

pepe keeps quiet for a few moments, picking his words carefully. "ollie is a good guy. one of the best." he takes a deep breath. "it will be alright."

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"it's not that i'm greedy or anything," ollie starts as he flops down on the edge of the bed, a huff escaping him. "i just… it would be nice to score some points, you know?"

if he had been greedy, you would've understood it. a mere three point-paying performances so far this season and a top result of p4 is not what he – or anyone – had expected. with the amount of pressure on him to perform, and all rumors about his future, everyone anticipates good things every time he jumps into the car.

you hum, pulling the duvet over your body as you get comfortable in bed. "you're in a good position for it, you know," you remind him. with his second top ten qualifying of the year, except for his pole in jeddah which he didn't get to claim the spoils of, he sure has a great chance for the sprint race tomorrow.

he nods slowly, pulling a hand through his messy locks before holding up his duvet and slipping in underneath it. "and you will do well on sunday. tomorrow too, of course," he's quick to add, turning to face you, who's already lying on your side. "good job today, love."

"thank you," you hum. a smile appears on your lips when his hand reaches for the side of your face, pulling you into him. his lips mold lazily against yours, fingers tapping against your cheek before tracing down your neck and arm. when he reaches your hand, his thumb draws random figures against the back of it, before finally falling down to brush against your fingers – and your breath hitches in your throat.

your ring finger is empty.

but where did you put it? when did you take it off? was it when you washed your hands before dinner? or when you showered after quali?

you don't know if ollie has noticed yet, or if the action is purely unconscious because he's too focused on your lips against his, but you pull away just in case. "i forgot my phone..." you mumble, retrieving your hand from him and scrambling to get out of bed. "have to charge it overnight..."

you rummage through your bag with feigned urgency. the phone is already exactly where it should be, on the floor where you'd placed it earlier, connected to your charger. but ollie doesn't need to know that.

what's important is that he doesn't know about the ring, or about the currently cool press of the gold heart against your chest beneath the fabric of your shirt. the thought sends a chill down your spine, and you force yourself to breathe as you stall for time.

your actions are all for nothing, however. of course he noticed.

a first podium of the season is always a lovely feeling. you would know, having already experienced it, and now you got to be happy for your boyfriend claiming not only his first podium but also his first win.

it's even better that he got to share it with pepe and paul.

even though things currently are a bit tense between ollie and paul, those two have been through so much together. they've been friends for years, and all that doesn't disappear just because they've dated the same girl, right? on the podium, you're supposed to let go of everything else and just have a good time with the other two drivers, no matter who they are.

so why were both ollie and pepe so reluctant to pay any attention to paul? why did neither of them seem to want to spray him with champagne or pour it over his head? why did they walk away from paul to pose for the cameras without him?

you saw how paul and pepe clung to each other on the podium in bahrain. that weekend, it was those two who left another driver out. what's so different now?

ollie and pepe could've been heard chattering from miles away. you only noticed the sound once they stepped out of the elevator on your floor of the hotel a little past midnight.

you hadn't seen either of them since the podium – and frankly, you hadn't wanted to, either – but you assumed they would be in their best spirits. unfortunately, the videos and screenshots of the podium ceremony, along with other content the formula two instagram account posted, have been constantly appearing on your social media feeds all day.

needless to say, this hasn't put you in the best mood.

you stick your head out through your door once you hear their voices get closer, and the two of them are clinging onto each other and giggling like never before. ollie is the first to notice you, his pace slowing and his smile faltering. "what's with the frown?" he asks before you even realize that you look about as mad as you feel. "bad race?"

he usually isn't this blunt. has he been drinking? despite the fact that he has a race tomorrow? "i couldn't care less about my race," you tell him, still staring the two boys down. pepe looks about ready to crawl out of his skin already; sure he's done something wrong, just unsure what.

"then..." your boyfriend begins, eyes flickering up and down your pyjama-clad body. "what's up?"

"what's up?" you repeat with a scoff. "the two of you are terribly immature, that's what's up."

the boys exchange a look before inching closer to you, soon standing right by your door with you. "it's really just the champagne- maybe one other drink, but..." pepe begins, words slurring and mixing in one big mess. "but we'll be okay for tomorrow."

"do either of you have any idea what the time is?" you pull a hand through your hair, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "the feature starts in like ten hours-" you interrupt yourself, taking a deep breath. "that's not even the point."

"okay... what is the point?" ollie asks, voice weak and unsure.

"i'm so disappointed by how you both acted today on the podium." neither of them seem to understand, so you keep going. "how you treated paul... that was so childish of you."

"wha-"

you don't even let them interject. "it was obvious. you were both shutting him out, even though he's done nothing wrong. he fought just as well as you both for that podium – if not even more, considering how he gained more positions than both of you together – and he did not deserve to be ignored."

the boys are speechless.

they stand still right in the middle of the corridor, mouths hanging slightly agape, not believing their ears at the sound of your little outburst. however, you don't feel even a sliver of guilt; they deserved it. "neither of you have anything to say, huh?" you ask eventually, shaking your head. "unbelievable."

without giving them a chance to say anything, and without wishing them goodnight, you slam the door in their faces and retreat into your room.

the silence on the other side of the door confirms one thing – they got the message.

after a quite chaotic feature race on sunday, with dennis stalling on pole and ollie having to retire due to yet another engine issue, you and the team managed to squeeze every little drop of success out of the race. two podium finishes – you in second and pepe in third – meant that you got to strengthen the lead in the team's championship even further.

considering the fact that you were also shoved wide at one moment when battling with paul and still managed to secure that podium finish, you're definitely pleased with your own race. you and pepe celebrate with the team when you get out of your cars, but the only acknowledgment of his race you give him is a quick pat on his back without even looking at him.

instead, you reach gabriel with a big grin on your lips, throwing an arm across his shoulders as you congratulate him on his first win. he doesn't even seem to notice how you both leave pepe behind as you walk towards the cooldown room together, already going off about the different happenings of the race.

pepe arrives a few moments after you, grabbing his flask of water and slumping into his chair without a word. gabriel tries to involve him in conversations, seemingly too stuck in his race-winning haze to notice the tension, but both you and the spaniard stay mostly quiet throughout the cooldown.

when the cameras cut out and someone tells you all it's time to get to the podium, you're the first to stand and make your way towards the door. but suddenly, a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back a meter until your shoulder bumps into a body behind you. pepe's breath is warm against your ear when he whispers into it. "are you going to ignore me all day?"

you turn to throw him a glance over your shoulder – your first eye contact since last night – and after a few quiet moments, you shrug. "probably."

and with that, he's left speechless behind as everyone else hurries to the podium for the ceremony.

with dino's third place in his own race, it meant that the entire 2023 prema f3 lineup got to stand on the podium this weekend. your friend even climbed up to fourth in the f3 championship, so when you two accidentally ran into each other back in the paddock, you threw yourself into his arms instantly.

getting dino to leave the post-race chaos was no easy task. between his habit of stopping to chat with everyone and his claim that he needed to "soak up the podium vibes", you were forced to practically pull him with you to the shared f2 and f3 hospitality.

"things looked quite tense between paul and ollie on the podium yesterday," dino says with a chuckle just as you're reaching into a refrigerator for a soda, making you stop in your tracks. not only are you surprised that he brought it up; the fact that there was a joking tone in his voice is what made your eyebrows furrow.

"that's funny?"

dino blinks at you. "no, i guess not," he mumbles, brain working overtime to figure out what's gotten you acting so strange in just a second.

"i thought it was extremely childish, actually," you say with a shrug, shutting the refrigerator again. "the way that they ignored him, only paid attention to each other…" you watch as dino leans his shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "you're still paul's best friend, so you get what i mean, right?"

"i mean, sure. but i also get why ollie and pepe would do that." he puts his hands up in the air as if surrendering when he sees the glare you throw him, yet he keeps speaking. "come on, they're just protective of you, and-"

"oh, so you're on their side now?"

"i'm not on any side!" he exclaims, dragging a hand down his face. "i just think-"

your shoulders feel a little lighter when a voice interrupts dino – and you feel yourself even smiling when you realize who the voice belongs to. "oh, look! it's the podium duo!"

dino laughs and hugs the blonde man who just stepped into the room. paul is already dressed out of his white hitech suit and into regular clothes, curls messy and still a little sweaty. "podium trio, now that you're here," dino says, patting him on the back before pulling away. "good race yesterday."

"thank you, mate," paul smiles brightly. "you deserved that second place, shame it didn't happen." he then turns to you, the brightness of his smile not faltering. "congrats to you, too. things are really turning around, aren't they?"

in more ways than one. "yeah, two feature podiums..." you let out a chuckle, reciprocating the hug he gives you with an equal amount of warmth. "i wouldn't have guessed that after imola."

paul chuckles, too, parting from you to step over to the coffee machine nearby, continuing your small talk for a little while. dino has already stepped away to talk to some prema staff at a nearby table, but you don't mind. being alone with paul doesn't feel strange at all anymore. even if you can't come up with anything interesting to say, it's not like the air is so thick with tension that you can't breathe. your skin doesn't crawl, and you feel at ease – the awkwardness is replaced by something warmer. "so..." he starts, pressing a few buttons on the machine before shooting you a glance. "i'm glad i ran into you. i was actually going to go look for you."

"oh, really?" you ask, unscrewing the cap of your soda and taking a sip. "and why's that?"

"I wanted to apologize." you bite back a comment about that being the first time those words have left his mouth. "about the situation there, when i... fought you a little too hard. it was unnecessary."

the corners of your lips twitch with a smile. "crashing into me would've been unnecessary. this was just racing," you assure him. "you got a penalty for it anyways, right?"

he nods and shrugs, picking up his paper cup when all of the coffee has been poured into it. "just figured i should say it anyways."

"it's alright. besides," you begin walking towards the exit again, and paul instantly follows. "i don't want you to race me any less just because we're friends again."

"oh, so we're friends now?" he asks with a grin, pulling the door open and letting you step outside first. "did you think to let me be a part of that decision? or did you just decide on that all by yourself-"

paul cackles when you shove his shoulder, and you roll your eyes in response. "yes, we are. but i still want you to give your all out there; i wouldn't want to win over you just because you're holding back."

he gives you a nod, opening his mouth to speak again – but when his eyes focus on something behind you, he closes it again. you raise an eyebrow, a lump gathering in your throat when you turn around to find ollie walking over to you.

his dark sunglasses sit perched atop his nose, hiding most of his facial expression, but you assume there's a frown hiding beneath it. "am i interrupting anything?" he asks when he approaches, and your hand instinctively reaches up to the side of his arm when he stops.

"nah," paul is the first to respond. "i was just about to leave, anyway." he looks down at you again, offering a quick smile. "congrats again."

you return the smile and then watch him leave, before tilting your head up to ollie once more. when ollie's gaze still follows his back many seconds later, not even throwing you a glance, your hand drops back to your side. when you begin walking in the opposite direction, ollie finally snaps out of his trance and arrives by your side in a few long steps. "hey," he says, neck craning down in hopes of getting your attention. "i wanted to congratulate you, too."

"sweet."

your chest tightens when you say it, and you know you'd feel even more guilty if you'd look back up at ollie and catch his reaction. so instead, you keep your eyes straight ahead as you try to navigate your way back to the campos truck. "you did really well, you know," he tries, hoping for a better reaction.

however, he doesn't get one. "i do know."

just as you reach your destination, ollie reaches out to grab your wrist, not letting you run away from him. when you finally face him, he pushes his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head instead, revealing those deep brown eyes you've come to love. he doesn't look as irritated as you'd assume; they're more pained and confused. "can we talk?" he asks after a few moments of silence.

you take a deep breath through your nose, turning your head to the side again. you couldn't even keep eye contact with him for ten seconds. "can we do it later?" you mumble, fingers subconsciously reaching up to fiddle with the heart charm hanging from your neck. "i really need to get changed and pack my bag... my flight leaves in just a few hours..."

he sighs, just loud enough for you to catch it over the rest of the commotion in the paddock. "you can't even spare me five minutes?"

"do you really think here and now is the right time?" you counter, looking back up at him just in time for him to turn his own gaze away. he shrugs.

"i guess not." he takes a few steps back. "see you in england, i guess."

and with that, he's gone.

you don't usually pull up your journal in public places; you wouldn't want to have to explain to some nosy staff member if they caught you with it. but right now, the truck is completely empty and silent besides the soft hum of a self-cleaning coffee machine, so you curl up in the corner of the couch with the book in your lap.

is this the end?

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[lunamadhatter99]

All for the cameras

chapter 2

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Here we go, part 2! Thank you, thank you, thank you all for the support with the first chapter!! I'm so glad that everyone liked it.

I hope you're going to like this second chapter too🤞 again if you're new and want to be tagged in the next chapter, comment here❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: It's time for the big event. And better keep our eyes open.

Chapter warning: none, except the usual mention of prostitution and usual Hunger Games stuff. Nothing too wild. We still won't see Finnick in this chapter, but I promise it's going to be worth it❤️

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"Snow is watching us." Haymitch says, we're almost at the Capitol for the final interview and the big celebration.

"Of course, he is. He needs to watch everything. Especially the inconveniences," I scoff.

"Yeah. And if he wants you to pacify the districts, I promise you, he's not happy." Haymitch continues, "instead of being in love, you two sounds like you're reading from a drilling manual."

"You try reading that stuff that Effie writes us," Peeta mutters.

"Snow doesn't care." I tell him. "That's not how you want to convince him."

"I'm open to suggestions," he says back, tired.

"We could get married," Katniss quietly suggests, not looking up at anyone.

"That's not helping," Haymitch comments.

"I'm serious. If, like you said we're on this train forever, it's gonna happen eventually. Why not now?"

"It does make a statement. I'll give you that." Haymitch then looks at Peeta who agrees, but quickly stands up and leave. Katniss looks at me.

"It's something we can try, you're right... they would want it to happen eventually." I shrug.

"It's settle, then." Haymitch drinks to that and Katniss looks at me with hope.

---------------

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" I ask Haymitch before I have to leave for Snow's residence. "Lots of free alcohol."

"I don't need free alcohol." He chuckles amused, "I'm a victor. I already got that."

"Don't you want to save a damsel in distress?" I try again.

"Our president seems very well guarded on his own," Haymitch jokes, "he's safe."

I genuinely laugh at that shaking my head.

"See? I need that! Please?" I try to beg just one more time.

"Don't send me that look, Princess." He turns his head away ready to walk away.

"Fine, fine... I tried." I raise my hands up in surrender. "Wish me luck, at least. "

"Maybe they'll leave you alone tonight, too interested in the two lovers," he sadly smiles at me, hoping, rather than believing, his own words to be true.

"Yeah, maybe," I take a deep breath, "well... have a goodnight, Haymitch."

"You too, princess." He winks, "and eyes open."

------------

The party is just as exaggerated as ever. Lots of people, lots of food and drinks and lots of lights.

I make my way through the crowd, towards the tables full of food and drinks, hoping to find something to make this evening more tolerable. I take a glass and take a sip, breathing deeply.

Some people come to talk to me, about the victors, thankfully.

"Two victors, exciting, uh?" One of the them says cheerfully.

"Very," I say with my usual forced smile.

"You must be proud, two victors on your turn on 12," a woman with very voluminous hair nudges me, "you were the talk of the town these past few days, you know?"

"Me?" I ask, surprised by that, usually everyone forgets about me during the victory tour.

"Oh yes, well beside the lovebirds." A green haired man chimes in.

"Why?" I start to get anxious, the necklaces feel a lot tighter than before.

"I heard a rumour... someone wants to put a ring on your finger," she whisper-exclaims with a wink.

"W-what?... I don't think... uh..." I stutter.

"C'mon, everyone knows you're Cal Kingslay's favourite." She teases, with a devilish smirk, "and it's rumored that he wants you all to himself."

"Isn't that wonderful?" The man cheers. "We could probably get two well awaited weddings this year!"

"I hope I didn't ruin the surprise." The woman adds, with, what I'm sure is, a fake apologetic smile.

"Of course not. Now would you excuse me, gotta wait for my Victors." I say turning around to walk as far as possible from them, I finish my drink in one go and soon take another glass. Thankfully it's announced the arrival of Katniss and Peeta.

I spot them walking through the crowd following Effie and heading to Flavius and Octavia so I quickly join them.

As they see me arrive they immediately smile, relieved.

"There you are," I say holding my hands out for them to hold, "I've missed you,"

All for the cameras.

"It's only been 30 minutes," Peeta plays along.

"And you can stay that long away from me?" I fake offence, "You wound me,"

Everyone around us laugh so I just decide to stick with them as long as I can.

Helping them play along is much easier than expected, especially with Peeta, Katniss is still a little uncertain, but I get her, it got me years and years to get used to the cameras.

After I unfortunately finish my fourth glass, I need another one, in order to survive this evening.

"Excuse me a second," I whisper at them and head to the other side of the room where I can get another glass of Whiskey.

I turn around to go back to Katniss and Peeta when I'm met with a firm chest.

Unfortunately I already know who this might be.

"Found you" Cal teases.

I look up at him, the blue in his hair is even stronger than I remembered, and a little longer too, he got bigger, more muscles for sure, eyes just as devilish.

"That you did," I try to mask my fear with a chuckle.

"I've missed you, you know, been looking everywhere for you since I got here," he says with a sweet tone, that only makes my skin crawl. He grabs my hand to play with my fingers.

"I've been here the whole time, chatting with the Victors you know," I take my hand back, "I should get back to them, exc-"

"They got you all this time," he stops me from walking away, "it's not the same without you."

"I..." I want to say something, but nothing comes out.

"I mean, it's fun and all with Finnick, but with you..." he lets out a big dreamy sigh, "with you it's so much better"

He says the last part leaning in, close enough to suffocate me.

"Excuse me?"

We both turn and see Peeta standing there.

"Peeta!" I say, both surprised and relieved, "Peeta, uh.. this is Cal Kingslay, his father was once the general himself"

"Nice to meet you, sir," Peeta extends his hand and Cal grabs it and shakes it.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr Mellark," Cal greets him, he's tense though, he doesn't like being interrupted.

"Uh... Peeta, where's Katniss?" I ask to change the subject.

"She's dancing with the new Head Gamemaker," he explains simply, "but I still wanted to dance so I thought to ask you, if you're free."

"Oh, but of course," I say holding out my hand for him.

"But..." Cal starts.

"Oh, c'mon, he's our new victor, we can't say no to him, now can we?"

"Of course not," Cal says with a very evident forced smile.

That being said, me and Peeta go dance with the other people, I even spot Katniss with said New head Gamemaker.

"Thank you," I breathlessly say as we start dancing.

"You're welcome, you looked like you needed saving," he says with his kind smile, "who is he?"

"A fan" I simply say, "a very... uh... insisting one"

"I see," he nods.

"Thanks again, really."

"Don't worry about it." He laugh, "I mean, you helped saving me in that arena, this is nothing."

It's actually a lot more than he thinks.

I smile at him, grateful.

I then feel a slight tap on my shoulder, I turn around seeing Katnis and the Gamemaker.

"Mind changing partners?" He asks politely.

"Sure."

Me and Katniss exchange spots.

"It's an honour," he says once we're dancing.

"That honour would be the same if I knew your name sir," I tease.

"Oh, my bad, I apologise." He chuckles, amused, "I'm Plutarch Heavensbee,"

"Now the honour is mine," I say, "new head Gamemaker... when did they choose you?"

"Oh, I volunteer," he simply explains.

"Oh..." I let out a surprised laugh, "I see Katniss is already dictating fashion."

"Yeah, she's an inspiration, don't you think?" He says it almost as a challenge.

"I do," I answer seriously. "There must be more then... why volunteer?"

"I think it's time for the game to mean something," he shrugs and smiles.

"Mean something?" I wonder, "that's pretentious,"

"A little," he chuckles again, "so I'd keep those eyes open, if I were you."

My eyes snap back at his face, he's smiling, proud of himself.

Why? Does he know something? Does Haymitch know something?

Before I get the chance to ask him anything, the Capitol anthem starts and the crowd cheers.

"I'm sure we'll meet again," he says before following the rest of the people out for President Snow's speech.

I'm a little stunned, it's Effie's call that snaps me out of it. I quickly join her, Katniss and Peeta out.

We all gather in front of the residence, waiting for the President Snow to come out. I turn around looking for Cal, only to make sure he doesn't sneak up on me again. I see him looking around, for me probably, so I quickly turn around getting closer to Katniss.

At last the President comes out on his balcony.

"Tonight, on this, the last day of their tour, I want to welcome our two Victors." He starts with his usual charming persona, two young people who embody our idealsof strength and valor. And I, personally, want to congratulate them on the announcement of their engagement."

Everyone cheers. Peeta and Katniss smile at the crowd around them.

"Your love has inspired us. And I know it will go on inspiring us every day for as long as you may live." He holds up his glass and the fireworks start and I turn around to look at them like everyone.

I sense Katniss holding my hand and turning around. I want to look at Snow too, but the way she starts to squeeze my hand tells me all I need to know...

He doesn't believe them.

It didn't work.

---------------

I'm sitting in an armchair staring at nothing in particular. My mind can't help but think about whatever we can do to make their story more believable, but nothing, absolutely nothing comes up.

The riots in the districts surely won't make him happy, which means it will be worse for everyone else.

Fuck.

My head snaps back as I hear footsteps coming, I let out a sigh when I notice it's just Katniss.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she apologises.

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off, "can't sleep either?"

She shakes her head, I motion for her to sit with me.

"Do you think we ever had any chance?" She then asks me.

"I guess, the positive side of me really hoped... but the realistic side knew." I sigh, looking down at my own hands, "I'm afraid it was too late from the beginning. And I don't mean from what happen in 11... I mean from the moment you took out the berries, that made the districts feel something, these riots all over the place won't be pacify by a love story. Snow knows that."

"He asked me to convince him," she explains, "to convince him ours is true love."

"He never believed you." I directly say, "not for a second."

"Why ask me that then?"

"Control." I simply answer looking up at her with a serious expression. "Show you he has control."

"How did you end up living like this?" She asks, she seems genuinely interested, but I'm not ready to share that part of my life with her just yet.

I smile at her, a smile that doesn't reach my eye.

"Aw... Katniss, I thought you knew the difference between living" I turn serious again, looking her dead in the eyes," and surviving."

With that I stand up, grab a bottle of what I think is rum, and head to my room.

-----------

I stand by the doors waiting for Peeta, Katniss and Haymitch to get off the train. The thought of going back to normal is dreadful enough, going back alone is even worse, I don't want to think about it.

"Home sweet home," Haymitch declares as he nears.

"Don't be so eager to leave me," I joke, holding my hand out for him to shake, he takes and kiss the back of it.

"You know, it pains me deeply," he teases back and I chuckle.

"Take care of them, will you?" I ask quietly.

"You take care of yourself, will you?" He lets go of my hand and leans down to whisper into my ear, "and eyes open" He smiles one more time before getting of the train.

"You'll have to explain that to me properly one of these days," I tell him as I watch him go.

"Isn't his whole character just... cryptic?" I turn around seeing Peeta and Katniss.

"Or just constantly drunk." Katniss chimes in.

"He's cryptically drunk all the time," I smile, "so... you got everything?"

"Yeah, we're ready to get home." Peeta smile back at me.

"Good... Good." I let out a deep sigh, "it's been a pleasure assisting you two. I guess I'll see you at the next Hunger Games, mentors."

"Thank you for everything, Y/n." Peeta pulls me in for a quick hug before walking away.

"Bye," I wave then turn to Katniss, "you okay?"

"Yeah... I think so." She forces a small smile.

"I wish I could do more," I tell her honestly.

"Thanks,"

"Say hi to your family for me, alright?" I smile again and she nods.

Once Katniss is out of sight a Peacekeeper comes up to me.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Your presence has been requested back in the Capitol. We'll be leaving soon." He tells me.

"May I know who requested it?" I ask, tired. I already imagine who-

"President Snow."

Uh?

"Did he say why?"

The peacekeeper doesn't answer and walks away. I stand here dumbfounded, wondering what he might want from me.

Is it because of Katniss and Peeta?

Is it because of the riots in the districts?

Is it because of the Quartel Quell? Does he wants me to be more participant or?

Then a terrifying thought comes to mind...

------------

"You asked for me, sir?" I stand in front of his desk as he write something down.

"It came to my attention a rumour's veen going around regarding you, miss L/n." He starts, still not looking directly at me, "a merry one."

"Sir?" I ask, my throat instantly dry.

"Cal Kingslay apparently wants to marry you," he finally puts down the pen and looks at me with, what might seem, a genuinely happy expression, "That's a wonderful news."

"Is it?" I don't know what he wants from me.

"Oh yes, the people can't help but be thrilled about. the idea. I, myself, think it's great news. After the contributions the Kingslays gave to the games in these last years, it will show, not only to the Capitol, but the districts as well, that you are an active part of this system." He explains, the hint of a challenge in his eyes. Challenge me to say no, to refuse.

I really want to, I want to scream at him and just run away. Being sold to all rich people in the Capitol is not the life I want, but being tied to him... permanently, it's more terrifying.

But I have no choice.

All I can do is swallow my pride and take a deep shaky breath.

"I... how... how will it happen, sir?" I ask.

"You two will get engaged once I announce the Third Quarter Quell and get properly married after the crowing of the Victor. He will ask, you will happily say yes." He explains, satisfied with my compliance, then he goes back at the papers in front of him, "That's all."

I don't need him to tell me twice, I immediately walk out of his office, ready to go home and just let everything out.

"Oh, before you go," Snow's voice freezes me on the spot, "Plutarch Heavensbee asked for your company, you will be escorted to his house immediately." He informs me.

I shakily nod and walk out of his office where two guards make way.

-----------

"Do you want some tea?" Plutarch motion for me to sit at a big wooden table, "perhaps something stronger?"

I nervously nod as I sit.

He walks away, I hear him talking to someone before walking back into the room I'm in with two drinks in hand. He offers one to me and sits by the opposite side of the table.

"I told the guards to come back in an hour, we should have enough time" he smiles and I nod again, still not sure of what to expect.

Suddenly the lights go off and the room falls into deep darkness. I can still make out his face due to the lights coming from outside.

"What...?" I ask.

"You can never feel safer," he tells me.

"What's going on, Mr Heavensbee?" I ask, anxiety growing at every passing second.

"Tell me, miss L/n," he starts, voice a little quieter than before, "what do you know about district 13?"

[kirstoons]

SDV Sebastian x Female Farmer (Yandere)

Author: Me (kirstoons or Pink_Femonade)

Editor and Queef: @gayrahim

TRIGGER WARNING: NSFW, 18+ content, MDNI, mature and sexual themes

Author’s note: I’ve begun posting this fanfic on my newly created AO3 account (Pink_Femonade). I’m updating my AO3 before I post here so feel free to check it out if you want the latest content. Also, thank you everyone who’s been supporting my writing and also my fan art 💕

Chapter 3:

Summary: It seems like the universe is out to get you as your plans fall apart rapidly.

It’s 6:00 AM Tuesday, Fall 9 and instead of being woken up by your usual rooster call, you’re roused by the loud buzz of power tools. Clearly Robin has already begun her work, so you might as well get up so you can complete yours as well.

You peek out the window before you get ready, just to make sure she’s alone out there with no other members of her family, specifically Sebastian. Seeing that the coast is clear, you begin your morning routine. As you hastily shovel down your slightly-under fried eggs, you begin making plans as to how to handle your night away from the farm and any possible contingency plans should they fall through.

After finishing all your chores on the farm and giving a friendly wave to Robin, you head over to Leah’s house with one of your best aged bottles of cherry wine to help sweeten the deal. Not that it’s necessary since Leah is your closest friend here in the Valley, but it’s more of a “thank you” gift for when she happily agrees to let you spend the night this coming Thursday. Plus, it’ll give you a chance to tell her all the crazy shit that’s been happening with Sebastian (omitting certain details obviously).

As you approach Leah’s little cabin, you see her round the corner of her home with a concerned look on her face and phone to her ear. You only catch a few words at the end of her conversation before she spots you and proceeds to end the conversation. She waves and embraces you with a quick hug, still maintaining a worried look on her face.

“Hey, everything okay?”, you ask with genuine concern. It’s not often you see Leah this stressed out.

“Not really,” she half-heartedly chuckles with a defeated look in her eyes. “I have a wicked bad termite infestation so I’ve been on the phone with exterminators all morning. The fastest appointment any of them have is for tomorrow but because of how bad the infestation is, they’re gonna have to fumigate my house, which means I have to stay somewhere else for the next three days.” She gives an exasperated huff before she continues. “So… I’m looking for a temporary place to stay and also trying to move all my wood sculptures out of the termites path of destruction. Thankfully, the one thing they haven’t gotten to is those so I’m trying to keep it that way. Mayor Lewis said I can store my sculptures and supplies in the community center for the time being so… it’s something.” She looks down at the ground, collecting herself before and looks back up to you. “So what’s up with you?” she asks in a joking tone trying to maintain some optimism in the situation.

“Oh, I…” You debate whether or not to tell her you also needed a place to stay since your problem seems far less dire than hers. “I just wanted to stop by and give you this.” You hand her the hand-packaged bottle of wine with a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck, this is exactly what I need.” She pulls the cork out with her teeth and takes a very VERY long swig. With wine dribbling down her chin, she asks, “think you have room in that big ole farmhouse for one more?”

It’s hard to hide the true disappointment in your voice as you remind her that you’re having work done on the house and that you were also looking for a place to stay. You also apologize for being unable to help your good friend when she really needs you.

“Oh yeah, I totally forgot you were getting some work done. That’s exciting, though. And you don’t need to apologize. I’m sure Elliot will let me crash, especially if I bring this wine with me.” She glances down at the half drunk bottle of wine. “Or maybe I’ll get him some of Gus’s crab cakes.”

You both let out a light laugh which helps ease your minds and you part ways to focus on your next steps. Plan A was a bust and it was your most solid plan, making you a bit nervous. You remind yourself that you have contingency plans for this very reason. You take a deep breath to rally yourself as you begin walking to Sam’s house.

*****

“Oh shit, that sucks,” Sam says after you explain your situation to him. You even add Leah’s predicament to your story to show how your options are running out. He listens intently but sometimes you swear it’s going in one ear and out the other.

“So anyway, that’s why I was hoping I could crash with you? I know you’d need to ask your mom and I’m totally fine sleeping on the couch.” You try to plead your case as convincingly as possible.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n, but I can’t. My little brother got some virus or something and now it’s spread to my mom, so the whole house is in quarantine.”

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!!!

“I bet Abby or Seb could help you out though,” he suggests with that sweet grin of his. He’s always so sweet and willing to help but hearing Sebastian’s name sends a cool chill down your spine. Damn, it’s impossible to be mad at Sam with his puppy dog expression and sweet sincerity. He’s always been so warm and kind to you, even when you were the new girl in town.

“Yeah, I’ll probably ask Abby next. Thanks, Sam.”

As you turn to leave, Sam calls out to you, “I bet Seb would prefer you ask him!” It’s an innocent tease, but you feel your cheeks burn bright red as you try to laugh along with him at his little “joke”. You bury your rosy cheeks in your jacket as you book it to Abigail’s place.

You’ve returned to your normal pigment by the time you reach Pierre’s store. You head to the far door near the counter, giving Pierre a brief wave as he finishes up with a customer, but before you reach the door, Pierre calls for your attention.

“If you’re going to see Abigail, I’m going to politely ask you to refrain.” He hands the customer their receipt and waits for them to gain some distance before continuing. “She’s grounded for the next two weeks.”

Uhhh isn’t she a grown woman? You keep your thoughts to yourself, as you watch your last chance at a place to stay (that’s free of Sebastian) evaporate before your eyes. You’re desperate at this point so you try one last ditch effort.

“Oh gosh, I had no idea,” you respond, really laying on the charm. “It’s especially bad timing cause I really needed a place to stay this Thursday.” You go on to explain the construction, and the following series of unfortunate events, hoping to earn sympathy points, and persuade him to make an exception. “So that’s why I’m urgently searching. I promise I won’t be a nuisance and I could stay on the couch rather than Abby’s room.” Your desperation is becoming evident and you rapidly search your thoughts for more convincing ideas. “And I’ll promise not to talk to Abby while I’m here… and…”,you trail off trying to think of a better argument, but Pierre stops you.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really wish I could help you but this just isn’t a good time.”

Fucking dick. If he did actually want to help you, he’d agree to let you stay.

“I understand,” you say with a tinge of bitterness. “Oh, I used that wonderful deluxe fertilizer you suggested. It worked wonders on my yams! I might stock up for the rest of my crops too…”

Pierre narrowed his eyes at you and your blatant attempt at bribery. He paused for a moment and you felt a tiny glimmer of hope that he was actually considering your offer.

“The answer is no, Y/n. I hope to see you back another day for that fertilizer.” That was definitely his way of asking you to leave. You give a polite nod in acknowledgment and leave the shop.

How? How is all this happening now?! Why does it feel like the universe is working against you?!

As these questions rage in your mind you turn the corner of the building, hoping to get some explanation. You swiftly approach Abby’s window and give it a few stern taps. You can hear shuffling from the other side and it takes a sec for Abby to come open the window.

“Hey what’s up?” Her tone is clearly irritated though you know that irritation isn’t directed at you. The fact that you came to her window leads her to conclude that you are already aware of her circumstance.

“Why’s your dad pissed? I mean I know he’s pissed a lot but this seems pretty extreme,” you ask, matching her same annoyance in solidarity.

Abby rolls her eyes and explains, “he found my weed stash. I have no idea how he even found it or why he looked through my stuff.” You did find this strange cause you knew where Abby hid her weed and you thought it was a damn good spot, too. She kept it taped to the backside of her nightstand drawer, so you’d have to pull the drawer completely out the the stand in order to get it. “Maybe he saw me pull it out or something?” She tried to rationalize before continuing, “But he obviously knew something since he knew exactly where to look.” It’s clear she’s suspicious that someone ratted her out to Pierre but only you, Sam and Sebastian knew where she kept it.

A lightbulb goes off in your head, and all the color drains from your face. Abby takes notice of your shift in demeanor.

“What? Do you know something?” She presses forward on the window pane urging you to share what you know. But you don’t have any proof, and she’s known Sebastian way longer than you, so why should she believe you? It would also make you look very suspicious, too, if you were to suggest him as the culprit.

“I’m just worried it’s… my fault because of… that time I left my lighter in your room! Like, what if he saw it and was like ‘why on earth is there a lighter in Abby’s room?!’ and then decided to search around?” You can feel your stomach in knots as you wait for Abby’s response.

At first she’s a little puzzled by your admission, but then she gives a soft, reassuring smile. “I seriously doubt that’s what tipped him off but it’s kinda cute that you feel that kind of guilt. Especially for something unintentional.”

You let out a sigh of relief and decide to explain your original intention for swinging by. You can’t help but think that this also gives you a stronger alibi of not being the one who snitched.

“Damn, that is hella unlucky,” she says. “But I’m sure Seb can help you out. He hardly leaves the house anyway so there’s no way he’s got plans or anything. Though, I can’t blame you for trying to find somewhere else instead.” Your ears perk up at this comment.

Has she seen the stuff he does? Has he done it to her? Are you finally not alone in this and someone else knows how fucking batshit crazy this all is?!

“Oh, yeah,” you say, trying to play it cool but wanting her to elaborate. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you know…. cause boys are so gross.” You feel your heart sink into the deepest pit of your stomach. You give an agreeing smile and nod, holding in the fact that you just want to scream. Abby continues. “I mean, can you imagine what Sam and Seb’s rooms would look like if you held up a black light. Ugh, it grosses me out just thinking about it.”

Again, you agree with her and accept your defeat. You trudge your way back to the main road and you head back to your farm with your head hung low. It’s a chilly evening and Robin is still working when you return, so you approach her and let her know that you’d like to take her up on her offer. She seems so pleased to hear you accept her invitation and begs you to join them for dinner that night, as well. Being the people-pleaser you are, you reluctantly agree and head inside. The dread of Thursday is already setting in, no matter how hard you try to push that feeling away.

You plop down on the couch, worn out from physical and emotional exhaustion. You get a text notification on your phone and as you go check it, expecting it to be Leah with a termite update, your breath catches in your throat.

Sebastian:

Glad you came to your senses and accepted the invite. Such a good girl

It feels as if your heart could pound right out your chest as you read and reread his text. You have so many questions and are completely terrified at this point.

Do I… should I… respond?

You shakily type your reply.

Y/n:

Why are you doing this? How did you do all this???

He responds mere seconds later, though it feels like an eternity of watching those three little dots appear, disappear and reappear over and over.

Sebastian:

So impatient. I’ve got to hold onto some of my secrets, you know? Be a good girl, and wait just a bit longer. I’ll be sure to reward my princess for her obedience

A second text soon follows.

Sebastian:

Also, I’m sure this goes without saying, but let’s keep this between us. No need for anyone to know our little secret, right? You’re such a good, obedient girl. However, if you do go and tell anyone else, that would make you a very bad girl, and I would be forced to punish you

You drop your phone beside you and lay there on the couch, staring at the ceiling. You’ve grown tired of trying to out maneuver Sebastian and his sick games, leaving you begrudgingly accept your fate. You lay on the couch for hours, unable to bring yourself to move, until you eventually fall into a restless sleep.

[raspberrybesitos]

Woven in the Stars | din djarin x f!reader

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Chapter 2 - Cosmically Sewn

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~4k

Chapter summary: Din returns to town with Grogu, meeting with you to get custom clothes. Getting acquainted with the pair, you strike up an offer that could bring you and Din even closer. Will Din accept?

Chapter warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, dad!Din, flirting, one (1) use of the word “daddy” in a nonsexual way, reader refers to Din as ‘Mando’ (for now 🤭), POV switching, inaccurate star wars info, liberties taken with the Creed, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, none really mostly just pining and fluff

A/N: hi everybody!!! tank you for sticking with me, life has been so hectic lately to say the least 🙃 but these two are finally acquainted with one another! the smut will happen eventually so bear with me y’all! i will throw y’all a bone occasionally, but the freak narsty smut happens all at the end. gotta let these two babies pine and let that slow burn burnnnn! can y’all sense i’m a sucker for the buildup? hehehe anyway i hope y’all enjoy! 🩵 not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by @saradika

the first emboldened word = Din’s POV

the first italicized word = Your POV

Stirring in the plush, handsewn sheets, Din’s eyes flutter open, adjusting to the beaming sunlight. Groaning, he huffs as he rubs the shadow of stubble growing on his face, as he recalls what he did last night before falling asleep. Dread washes over him as he thinks of how he has to face you at the market later.

With a deep sigh, he rises from the bed and tidily makes his bed before padding into Grogu’s room. Thankfully, he’s still sleeping, still cuddled up with the stuffed bantha you gave to him.

You are everywhere he looks. How have you infiltrated his mind so quickly?

Din heads down the hall and into the refresher, opting to take a long shower while Grogu still sleeps. The scalding water soothes the dull aches that still linger in his body from years of battling. He scrubs hard, attempting to wash away what he did last night, the guilt and shame.

He shuts the water off and dries off before trudging back down the hall and into his room. As he slips on his flight suit, soft coos make his ears perk up. He smooths out the wrinkles in his shirt as he goes to peer into Grogu’s room. The child now wide awake and still gripping onto the bantha. He squeals at the sight of his father, hands up and stretched forward. 

Din cradles him in one arm as he walks out into the kitchen, starting their daily routine. One that consists of breakfast for Grogu, and sometimes Din. If he’s not eating breakfast with his son, he’s usually doing some work - whether that be house work or having comm link meetings with Teva or Karga.

Today, it’s just breakfast for the two of them. Grogu brushes the stubble on his father’s face while he prepares their meal. In the past, he’d tell Grogu to stop touching his helmet. Things have changed.

Din no longer wears his helmet around Grogu so long as they’re alone in their home. He’s part of his clan now, having adopted him. Seeing that Bo-Katan and a few others who’ve walked both worlds, and being exposed to different Mandalorians who practice the culture differently, he’s decided to take some liberties with the Creed. He wants his son to see him, all of him after losing him once. Also, Grogu is still far too young to partake in the Creed, so he should be allowed to see his father.

He prepares breakfast for the both of them, sitting Grogu down in his chair as he serves them both. His son squeals as his father serves him and sits beside him. Mirroring each other, the clan eats in silence. Grogu busies himself with his meal, completely oblivious to his spiraling father.

How is he supposed to face you again today? Why did he do that last night? Maker, he needs to regain his sense of self control. He knew domestic life was going to be an adjustment, but he didn’t think he’d let himself slip up so easily, so quickly. For stars sake, he’s already thinking about sharing a life with someone, with you. He has other things to take care of before he can even give that a second thought. Like settling in, helping Grogu adjust to this new life, prioritizing his contract work with Teva, and the occasional tasks from Karga. He hopes he can act normally today. You caught him off guard yesterday, but hopefully he can prepare himself to see your beautiful face.

A whine pulls him from his thoughts. Grogu has crawled into his lap, pouting up at him with those big brown eyes, meaning he’s still hungry. Din hands him his spoon, and turns him around to face the table. Grogu squeals with delight as he rapidly devours the rest of his father’s food. 

With a tiny burp, Grogu plops down into Din’s lap and sinks into the warmth of his chest. Din rises to his feet and pads into his son’s room, cleaning him up and changing him into a spare tunic. He settles Grogu in his pram, nuzzling the new stuffed bantha that he’s quickly attached to next to him, and walks across the hall to put on his armor.

As he reaches for his helmet, he calls out for Grogu before placing it on his head. “Come on, Grogu, let’s go.” A hissing sound erupts as he slips his helmet on, and he rushes back into the living room, slinging the sack over his shoulder while Grogu plays in the pram with his bantha. Another reminder of you, he exhales a deep modulated sigh as he braces himself for a day at the plaza. Embarrassment coursing through him as he and Grogu head out the door and off on their journey for today.

Maker give him strength.

The town bustles as the sweltering sun beams down onto the plaza. Setting up the last display at your textile stall, you wipe the bead of sweat that’s formed at your brow. Mando is supposed to return with Grogu today, making you feel particularly giddy about seeing the mandalorian again. You’ve heard tales about mandalorians your whole life, and have even seen some in passing having lived on Nevarro for a few years now. However, something about him was so enthralling.

You couldn’t place it. Perhaps it was the way he was so caring and gentle with his son, or perhaps it was his demeanor which was surprisingly a lot more open than you had expected. Most encounters with mandalorians are short, as they are not people of many words - but not with him. Something about the man in beskar has captivated you, unable to shake him from your head since meeting him yesterday.

Subconsciously, you’ve never taken this much interest in a commission before. You’d even selected an array of fabrics for him to choose from for Grogu. You tell yourself it’s because of the unorthodox, sweet duo. The green baby having captured your heart the second you laid eyes on him, his curious eyes wandering and babbles that escaped him having tugged at your heart strings. You wondered how he ended up with his father, the resemblance between them obviously nonexistent, but you didn’t ask. It’s not your place to know, let alone judge, unless Mando feels comfortable telling you.

You should know better than anyone how complicated familial relationships can be. That family does not always correlate to blood relation, being adopted since birth after your biological parents had given you up to your mother and father. You believe that the stars lead you to people. They lead you to your family - your parents, your brother, your sisters. You are their daughter, their sister despite what biology may say.

Oh how you miss them all so much. What you’d give to see them again. You hope they’re alright, that the krayt dragon hasn’t reached them despite all the time that has passed.

Biting back tears, you shake your head and pack the selected textiles into a box and place them in your home-turned-shop. Working out of your home has its perks - never having to leave. It’s also got its downsides with the lack of space. It can get crammed sometimes, and it’s hard to not bring work home with you - literally and figuratively. Big commissions can be stressful, and dealing with a particularly aggravating vendor neighbor doesn’t help.

Recounting your last encounter with him, it was thankfully diffused quickly by your other neighbors. He’d yelled at some innocent kids who were eyeing the fruits he sells, calling them thieves and accusing everyone of being one after he’d had a few pieces of fruit stolen from his stand. You’d intervened first, scolded him for yelling at children and consoling them by offering them some candy from your stash. Thankfully the other neighbors despised him as well and jumped into your’s and the children’s defenses. He backed off and hasn’t said anything since. Hopefully it stays that way. 

Thank the Maker he doesn’t actually live next to you.

The sound of your name pulls you from your recollection and back into reality. You rush outside and your breath hitches in your throat. There he is, in all his shiny glory. If he’s this captivating with his helmet on, you can’t help but wonder what he looks like underneath it.

You wave at them, beaming as Grogu returns a wave with his tiny hand as he holds the stuffed bantha you gifted him just yesterday. Din desperately tries to keep his composure as he approaches you, trying not to think of what he’d done last night. His hands having grown clammy under his gloves, his helmet suddenly feeling hotter as the sight of you sends his head spinning.

You’re radiant, as if you belong in the stars in the evening skies - outshining every galaxy he’s ever seen. Your energy is infectious, making his heartbeat stutter. 

“Hi, baby! I see you brought your new toy with you! Do you like it?” You ask, voice full of glee. Grogu happily garbles an incomprehensible response, but you take it as a ‘yes’ and burst into a fit of giggles. Your laugh like music to his ears, he bites back a groan under his helmet. 

Is there any part of you that isn’t beautiful?

“Hi, Mando,” you giggle. It sucks the air out of his lungs hearing your breathy laugh and his name from your lips. Sweat forms on his brow and he wishes he could wipe it away. He fidgets with his holster, giving you a nod. “Hi, cyar’ika,” he nervously stammers, the affectionate name having escaped his mouth without thinking. Your brow quirks as your lips pull into a grin. “I’ve never heard that before. Is that your native tongue?” You inquire, fully intrigued by the name.

Fuck. He didn’t mean to let the name slip.

“It is. It’s Mando’a, the language of my people.” Your smile grows larger, making Din’s heart beat faster and body grow hotter. “It sounds lovely! What does that word mean? Should I be insulted?” You playfully tease him. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes bug out of his head as his cheeks grow red. “What? No, it was not an insult, I promise. It means, uh… it means ‘friend,’” he lies. You nod, narrowing your eyes at him as if you don’t believe him.

“Okay. If you say so, Mando,” you tell him, coyly winking at him. He clears his throat as awkward tension fills the silence between you two.

Grogu’s squealing breaks the tension, making you laugh. “You ready for some new clothes, baby?!” You ask him, scooping him up from his pram, eliciting a giggle from the baby. 

His heart feels like it’s going to burst through the beskar.

Tickling the child, he laughs excitedly as you set him on one of the tables at your stall. “Wait here,” you tell the clan as you disappear into your studio. You return with a box containing something. You place the box on the table, Grogu cooing in curiosity. Din tilts his head to the side. 

“What’s this?” He asks, making you beam. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I selected some fabrics for you to choose from based on what he was wearing yesterday! But also, please feel free to browse around the other selections,” you explain with a sparkle in your eyes as you smile at him, laughing as Grogu grabs one of your fingers to balance himself as he wobbles to the box.

He’s undeserving of your kindness, unable to fathom what he’s done to be on the receiving end of it.

“You didn’t have to do that, cyar’ika,” he nearly whispers. Your face is beginning to ache with the amount you’ve been smiling since he arrived. “It was no problem, Mando. I hope you like some of the selections. You can tell me if you don’t, you can be honest with me. Trust me, I can take it,” you tell him with a coy smile and a wink, making him suck in a sharp breath.

Keep it together, Din.

“Th-they’re lovely, cyar’ika. Thank you very much, I’m perfectly happy with any of the fabrics you’ve chosen,” he tells you. “Are you sure? Because I-I can pick out some more,” you say timidly.

Is he making you flustered? No. There’s no way.

“No need. They’re perfect.” You give him a nod and tuck your bottom lip between your teeth. “How about we let Grogu choose his favorites from the pile?” He says, subconsciously inching closer to you. “O-Okay,” you stutter.

You bend down to meet Grogu’s height. “Grogu! Which one do you like, baby?” You gently ask him as you hold up two pieces of fabric for him to choose from. He points to one in your left hand with a grunt. You repeat the process two more times, the smile never leaving yours or Din’s faces.

He watches quietly as you swipe your measuring tape from your apron, wrapping it around Grogu who garbles in confusion as he wonders what’s going on. He looks up at you with his big brown eyes, tiny teeth peeking out from his mouth. You smile and scrunch your nose at him, speaking to him about different things like toys, candy, animals, anything a child would like. You intently listen to every garble that streams from Grogu as if you can understand him, showing him enthusiasm as he babbles. 

Din can feel his body heating up, his chest feeling fuzzy as he watches you interact with his son.

Grogu goes for something in one of your pockets - the pin cushion. You and Din panic, you get to him before he pricks himself on a needle. “No no, baby! Those are sharp, they can hurt you. Here, you can play with this instead,” you say, handing him a spare one sans pins. You remove the one from your apron and toss it onto a table behind you, probably to ensure he doesn’t reach it at all.

How are you so maternal? Is it instinctual or do you have children of your own?

“You’re really good with him,” he says, moreso to himself rather than you. “Hmm?” You say, lifting your head and eyes wide as you meet his gaze. His heart feels like it’s going to combust every time you look at him. 

“What?” He asks. A smile splays on your face, teeth poking through your lips. “What did you say? I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said,” you explain.

“Y-you’re, uh, you’re really good with him. Most people can’t keep up with his hyperness, but you can.” He sees something flash across your eyes.

Bashfulness?

“Oh. Thank you, that’s very kind,” you say, voice hushed and shy. “Do, um, do you have any children of your own, if you don’t mind me asking?” He can’t help, but ask - curious as to how you’re so good with his son, curious if you’ve got a riduur at home.

“No! No children, just me at home. I did have a little sister and have just always had a soft spot for kids, but no… no children,” you tell him, a noticeable deflation in your voice as you bring up your sister.

Did. He catches that, unable to miss the use of past tense. Feeling like he’s already pried from you, he nods. “Well, you’re a natural. Plus, he likes you,” Din says, offering some sort of comfort and shifting the focus of the conversation.

Grogu chirps from below the both of you, making you smile. You boop his nose, making him laugh. “I like him too. We’re best friends now, aren’t we, baby?” You ask him, tickling his sides as Grogu’s laughter grows louder. “Better watch out, Mando. I think I’ve taken the throne as his favorite,” you say through your giggles. Din watches from behind his helmet as you cradle Grogu, his heart taking flight at the sight in front of him.

“I don’t doubt that, cyar’ika.”

“So… can I ask what brings you into town, besides clothes for Grogu?” You ask, marking measurements on the selected fabric.

“Uh, yes, uh, we’re actually also here to gather some things for a fence I’m building. I’ve got a pond in front of our house and Grogu keeps torturing the frogs. I also don’t want him falling in, so I’m buying the last of the supplies to block it off.”

Your heart softens at the mandalorian’s concern. Going above and beyond for his son.

“Those poor frogs,” you giggle at the thought of Grogu messing with them. “Yeah, if he keeps eating them, he’s going to turn into one,” he huffs. Grogu snaps his head up, garbling what seems like a question.

“Have you started building the fence yet?” You through a fit of laughter.

“I have not, I’ve been occupied with some last minute tasks High Magistrate Karga asked me to complete. But I plan to start soon, possibly within the next week.”

You hum as silence settles amongst you three. A thought pops into your head, recounting the time you spent helping your father around the moisture farm back home on Tatooine as a young girl. Building and repairing fences and traps with your brother around the farm, your father adamant on ridding your home of womp rats.

Without even thinking about your next words, they eagerly roll off your tongue. Not sure why you’d go so far to extend a helping hand, but not questioning yourself either.

“Would you like some help?” Mando tilts his head to the side. “W-with the fence! That is,” you say, trailing off at the end. “Oh, that’s quite alright, cyar’ika. It’s a lot of work, and I couldn’t ask another task of you.”

“It’d be no problem! I’m more than happy to help, if you’ll let me.”

You’ve never been so eager to do farm work in your life. Surely, your father would laugh at your enthusiasm.

“Cyar’ika, you’re very kind, but I’d be indebted to you should you help me. In fact, I already am with the garments you’re crafting for Grogu.” You playfully roll your eyes

“Again with the formalities. You aren’t indebted to me, Mando! This is my job. Helping would be considered a favor, helping out a friend.”

“Friend.” Mando states. 

“Yeah. Isn’t that what you call me? ‘Cya-cy-cyar’,” you stumble through the pronunciation. Mando barks out a hearty laugh, sending a flurry of butterflies swarming in your belly.

“Yes, we are friends, cyar’ika. You can just call me ‘Mando’ or ‘friend.’ We’ll work on your pronunciation later, don’t want you hurting yourself now,” he teases. Your scrunch your face up, mouth gaped open. “Wow! How rude of you, Mando! Give a lady some grace, why don’t you?!” You squeak, unable to contain the surprise in your voice as a huge smile breaks out onto your face, taken aback by his sudden playfulness.

“I’m sorry, cyar’ika. How can I re-earn your good graces?” A smile evident in his voice.

Your face feels like it’s going to fall off if you keep smiling.

“For starters, you can tell me what that word really means. I’m only fluent in Basic and Jawaese,” you say with a wink, trying to make him feel equally as flustered.

“Jawaese? Are you not native to Nevarro?”

You shake your head as you measure Grogu once more, jotting down his measurements, playfully booping his nose to keep him entertained. “I am not. Tatooine was my home, it’s where I was born and where I grew up.”

He nods, carefully catching a wobbling Grogu. “So what brought you here?” You smirk. “I could ask you the same, Mando… if that is your real name,” you tease. The mandalorian chuckles under his helmet.

Oh what you’d give to see his smile.

“Maybe I’ll tell you… should you ever choose to tell me your given name,” you tease.

“Fair enough. I’ll tell you everything one day, cyar’ika.”

One day. Is he possibly considering telling you his name?

“One day,” you repeat. Your gaze never leaves his, staring into the blacked-out T in his helmet, hoping he can see the desire in your eyes. The silence is broken with the clearing of Mando’s throat. 

“I plan on starting next week. Does that work for you, cyar’ika?” 

You nod a little too eagerly, automatically agreeing despite not having checked your deadline schedules for other commissions. “It does! I’ll even bring over Grogu’s new tunics next week, they’ll be ready by then,” you excitedly say, folding the paper containing Grogu’s measurements and tucking it into your apron. Tucking your pencil behind your ear, you fold the fabrics up and carefully place them back in the box.

Grogu picks one up and hands it to you, melting your heart. You graciously pout, cooing at him. “Thank you, baby!” You squeal, gently caressing his cheek. He nuzzles into your touch.

He’s got you wrapped around his little green finger.

A pang of disappointment hits your heart, your time with the clan coming to a close.

You sigh as you tuck the box of fabric under one of the tables behind you. Silence hangs in the air, fiddling with your apron as you’re unable to say goodbye.

“Well… I guess we’ll be seeing you next week, cyar’ika?” Mando says, making you perk up at the sound of his voice. “Yes, yes you will, Mando.” You can’t help but smile at the thought of spending time with the duo.

“Good. I can’t wait, mesh’la,” he says quietly. Your brows reach your hairline at the new nickname. “Okay, now what does that one mean, Mando? You better not be insulting me!” You exclaim, poking fun at him, but genuinely curious as to what he’s saying.

“I would never, cyar’ika! Like I said, I’ll tell you one day,” he assures you. You sarcastically hum, reaching for something else in your pocket and hand Grogu yet another piece of candy.

“Here you go, little man. Thank you for being so good today, baby!” You tell him, helping him unwrap the lollipop as he squeals with excitement. He incoherently babbles as you discard the wrapper.

“None for daddy though, he’s being a meanie,” you pretend to whisper to Grogu. Your head snaps up at the sound of a groan.

“You alright, Mando?” You ask, brows pinched together. “Y-yeah, cyar’ika. I’m fine. J-just s-sometimes… this… helmet gives me, uh, a headache. I’m fine though,” he stammers. Your worry not quite dissolving. 

“I’m sorry, Mando. Would you like some medicine? I think I might have some inside,” you worriedly ramble. He waves you off. “It’s alright, cyar’ika. I promise. Th-thank you for all your help today, truly,” he nervously says. Taking his word, you nod.

“Well, I’m here if you ever need anything. And of course, it was my pleasure,” you say as you extend your hand to him, smiling as you do so. He quickly glances down to your hand, his large gloved hand fully encasing yours, his thick fingers brushing against yours in the process. He gently shakes your hand, giving it a soft squeeze in between, flashing him a gentle smile.

Is he smiling under there? You hope so.

“See you next week, cyar’ika,” he says, his hand still in yours. “I’ll see you both next week, Mando,” you say breathlessly. He sets your hand down, but doesn’t let go. You can sense his hesitation, but what could he be hesitating about?

“Have a lovely day… mesh’la,” he rasps with a tender, but swift swirl of his thumb on your hand. Sparks of electricity bolt throughout your body, your hand feeling as if it’s ablaze. He quickly drops your hand, gathering Grogu in his arms and settling him in his pram.

“Thank you. You too, Mando,” you nearly whisper, still relishing in the lingering feeling of his hand in yours. “Bye, cyar’ika,” he says with a wave, Grogu mirroring his father’s actions. “Bye, Mando. Bye, Grogu!” You say, returning the wave to the father-son duo. They part from your stall.

There’s a few customers browsing around your stall, but you hardly notice them as your mind swirls from what just happened between you and Mando.

What was that?

A customer comes up to you to ask a question. You shake the thoughts from your head and go about the work day. Anticipation blooms within you as the day drags on.

Next week can’t come fast enough.

we've finally been introduced to our reader (or as Din likes to call you, 'Cyari'ka' hehehe) and now the plot has been set up for some major pining! we've even caught a glimpse of backstory for reader!

i truly hope your suspension of disbelief allows you to picture yourself when reading this, because i like to picture myself while writing! Din wants reader aka you! 🫶🏼

anyway, thank you so much for reading! i'd love to know your thoughts in the comments, my asks, or dms 🩷

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