#alright deeply personal post OVER

[pin-k-ink]

breaking point // hinata shoyo

tw ⇢ possessive!hinata, groping, obsessive behavior, semi-public fingering, cunnilingus, mating press, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentioned masturbation, rough sex, squirting, fingering

wc ⇢ 4.4k

a/n: not proofread

"And here we have the star of today's match, Hinata Shoyo!"

Your bright voice immediately commanded Hinata's attention, shattering his previous conversation into irrelevance. As his eyes landed on you, he felt the breath still in his lungs.

'Good god, she's beautiful.'

The thought blossomed before he could stop it. You looked so perfectly poised and professional with your microphone raised, camera ready. But all Hinata could focus on was the elegant line of your jaw, the flushed hue across your cheeks, and the way your lips seemed to glisten invitingly.

Swallowing hard, he wrestled to regain his composure as you launched into the standard post-game questions about his performance. Hinata responded automatically while his gaze drifted lower, hungrily taking in the tantalizing glimpse of cleavage exposed by your blouse's neckline.

Get it together! He gave himself a mental shake, panic rising at his inability to tear his eyes away from your body. This was just a damn interview - he'd done hundreds, for god's sake! So why was he reacting like a hormonal teenager catching his first glimpse of undressed skin?

Maybe it was the way your skirt caressed the gentle swell of your hips as you shifted...or the soft, floral scent of your perfume that seemed to wrap around his senses in the most maddening way...

Inhaling deeply, Hinata dragged his wandering focus back to your lovely face, only to feel his attention immediately ensnared by your lips. They looked so incredibly soft and inviting as you spoke, he could barely track the meaning of your questions.

Without realizing it, Hinata found himself slowly drifting closer, drawn to you by some inexplicable gravitational pull. By the time your brows knit in confusion at his distracted responses, he was near enough to see the slight iridescent shimmer of your lip gloss...near enough to catch the lightest whisper of your shampoo's fragrance...

Fuck, get a grip! Hinata cursed inwardly, finally registering the wildly inappropriate hunger blazing through him like a fever. This was meant to be a professional interview, not his own personal peepshow!

And yet, he found himself utterly powerless to pull away from your enticing presence. His gaze flicked down to the gentle swell of your chest again as you inhaled, and he swore he could detect the barest hint of cleavage peeking from beneath the fabric.

"Is...everything alright, Hinata-san?" you asked with a small frown, no doubt perplexed by the dark look of unveiled yearning that had overcome his features.

Hinata's tongue instinctively swiped across his suddenly dry lips as his eyes locked on yours once more. Every fiber of his being screamed to close what little distance remained between your bodies and capture those perfect lips with his own. To satiate this maddening, inexplicable thirst you had instantly awakened within him.

But somehow, some small shred of self-restraint stopped the words from spilling out.

"Perfect," he husked instead, the gravelly timbre of his voice dripping with the undisguised want smoldering in his eyes. "Everything is...perfect."

After that first unsettling interview, you found yourself assigned to cover Hinata with increasing frequency. His star power was rapidly rising, and your segments with him always drew impressive views and engagement.

But each time you sat down with him, the charged tension seemed to ratchet higher.

During one post-game interview, Hinata casually rested his hand over yours on the microphone, his calloused fingers stroking your skin as he leaned in close to answer.

"That last set was a real nail-biter," he murmured, his intense gaze never leaving your face. "I love keeping the crowd on the edge of their seats, never knowing what I'll do next..."

You had to fight down a shiver at the double meaning layered beneath his words. Hinata's eyes sparked with mischief, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

Another time, as you wrapped up a courtside interview, Hinata unexpectedly pulled you into a quick hug. The gesture would look friendly and spontaneous to any onlookers...

But as he drew you against his chest, you felt his hand dip low to squeeze your ass, lightning-quick but unmistakable. Your gasp was muffled against his shoulder before he released you with a cheeky grin.

"Thanks for the great interview," he chirped brightly, as if he hadn't just groped you in front of thousands. "Always a pleasure!"

Then there was the interview after his Sports Illustrated cover was announced. Hinata kept you close as you spoke, his arm slung casually across your shoulders in a gesture that skirted the line of professionalism.

"It's such an honor," he said earnestly. "I couldn't have done it without the support of my biggest fans."

At that, his hand drifted down to toy with the ends of your hair, twirling the strands around his fingers in an unmistakably possessive gesture. To any viewers, it would look like an absent fidget.

But the heat in Hinata's gaze as it locked with yours made it clear - he was staking a subtle claim, right there on live television. You had to fight to keep your composure, even as your skin tingled beneath his touch.

As the months passed, Hinata grew bolder and bolder in his flirtations, always toeing the line while maintaining plausible deniability. Lingering touches, weighted words, heated stares that felt almost tangible in their intensity...

It was a dangerous game you were playing, trapped under the watchful eyes of the cameras. And part of you wondered how far Hinata would push before the tension finally snapped.

After a grueling five-set match, you found yourself waiting outside the locker room to snag a final quote from Hinata. The hallway was deserted, the rest of the press having already dispersed to make their deadlines.

You leaned against the wall, reviewing your notes, when the door suddenly swung open. Hinata emerged, his hair damp from the shower and his gym bag slung over one shoulder. He stopped short when he spotted you, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Well, well," he murmured, sauntering closer. "If it isn't my favorite reporter. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You straightened, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped at his proximity. "Just hoping to get a quick quote about that final spike. It was a pretty spectacular finish."

Hinata hummed, stepping fully into your personal space until your back hit the wall. "Is that so?" he mused, bracing a hand beside your head. "And here I thought maybe you just wanted to get me alone."

Your breath caught at the blatant suggestion, your eyes widening. "I...no, that's not-"

"Not what?" Hinata interrupted, his voice dropping to a low rasp. "Not incredibly tempting? Because I've got to say..."

His free hand came up to toy with the press badge dangling from your neck, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin above your collar.

"...the thought of getting you all to myself, away from the cameras? It's been driving me crazy for months."

You swallowed hard, your head swimming with his intoxicating nearness. This close, you could see the flecks of gold in his warm brown eyes, could count each individual eyelash framing his heated gaze.

"Hinata-san," you managed weakly, "we can't. I'm supposed to be interviewing you."

His lips quirked up in a wicked grin. "Then interview me," he purred, ducking his head until his mouth hovered a hair's breadth from your own. "Ask me how badly I've wanted to taste your lips. Ask me how many times I've imagined peeling that prim little skirt off you and finding out what you're wearing underneath. Ask me how often I've had to jerk off in the shower, thinking about your mouth on my cock..."

A shaky exhale escaped you, and Hinata's eyes darkened with triumph. He knew he had you cornered, in every sense of the word. His body caged you in, his breath fanning across your parted lips in a maddening caress.

"You have no idea," he rasped, his nose brushing yours in a ghosting almost-touch, "how crazy you make me. How hard it's been to keep my hands to myself every time we're together."

To punctuate his point, his hand released your badge to trail slowly down your arm, calluses catching on your sleek skin and igniting sparks in their wake. Your breathing grew ragged as his fingers skimmed across your hip, circling to the small of your back.

Then he was hauling you flush against him, the hard planes of his body searing into your softer curves. A needy sound caught in your throat at the feel of him, firm and unyielding, against your frame.

"Hinata-san," you gasped, but whatever protest you'd intended died on your lips as he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes blazing with raw hunger.

"Tell me you want me," he commanded roughly, his voice gravelly with desire. "Tell me I'm not the only one losing my mind with how badly I need you."

You trembled in his hold, your heart hammering against your ribs as his words seemed to brand themselves into your skin. Every nerve ending felt electrified, raw and oversensitized where his body pressed against your own.

But even as your very soul cried out to give in, to surrender to the magnetic pull of him, your rational mind clung to the tattered shreds of reason.

"Hinata, we...we can't," you managed, your voice thin and thready to your own ears. "This is...it's not right."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the taut skin, but he didn't release you. If anything, his grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh possessively.

"Not right?" he echoed, a humorless laugh escaping him. "God, if you only knew how many nights I've laid awake, fantasizing about all the 'not right' things I want to do to you..."

His head dipped, his nose skimming along the column of your throat in a barely-there touch that had you shivering. You swore you could feel the heat of his lips hovering just above your racing pulse.

"I could take you right here," he rasped against your skin, his breath searing you like a brand. "Against this wall, until you're shaking and begging for me. Would you like that?"

A broken whimper escaped your lips, and you felt them curve in a wicked smile. "Yeah, you would," he purred darkly. "I bet you'd fall apart so sweetly on my cock, squeezing me like a vice as you come..."

Your head thumped back against the wall, eyes squeezing shut as his filthy words painted vivid pictures in your mind. It would be so easy to give in, to let him strip you bare and take you apart until you forgot your own name.

But the tattered remnants of your professionalism, already strained to the breaking point, wouldn't allow it.

"I can't," you whispered brokenly, hands fisting in his shirt as if to hold him at bay...or pull him closer, you weren't even sure anymore. "We can't do this, Hinata-san. Not...not like this."

For a long, endless moment, he remained motionless against you. You could practically hear the war raging within him, the primal need to claim you battling against the yoke of propriety.

Then, with a low, frustrated growl, he released you, stepping back just enough to sever the contact between your bodies. The sudden absence of his searing heat left you feeling bereft, unmoored, but you didn't dare reach for him again.

"This isn't over," he bit out, his tone dark with promise as his heated gaze raked over you. "Sooner or later, I'm going to have you. And when I do..."

He leaned in, his lips a hairsbreadth from your ear. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll be mine, completely and utterly. Don't ever doubt that."

With those words searing into your very bones, he grabbed your jaw in a rough grip, capturing your lips in a hard, bruising kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming, conquering, and you were powerless to stop the whimper of need that fell from your lips.

Then he was gone. Turning on his heel and stalking away, leaving you weak-kneed and trembling in his wake. As you watched his broad shoulders disappear around the corner, one thing crystallized in your mind with startling certainty.

Hinata Shoyo was a man who worked hard to get what he wanted. And god help you, he wanted you.

The studio lights bore down on you as you sat beside Hinata, the camera crew adjusting the final settings before your joint interview. It was a big opportunity, a chance to discuss his recent accomplishments with a major sports network.

But all you could focus on was the heat of Hinata's thigh pressed against your own beneath the news desk.

"Thirty seconds!" the producer called out. You straightened your notes with hands that trembled imperceptibly, hyperaware of Hinata's solid presence mere inches away.

As the crew did their final checks, you felt a feather-light touch against your knee. Your breath hitched, gaze flying to Hinata's face, but he was staring straight ahead with an expression of perfect nonchalance.

Then his hand slid higher, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You barely suppressed a gasp, your entire body going rigid as he began to trace idle patterns against your flesh.

"Ten seconds!"

Hinata's touch grew bolder, his palm flattening against your thigh as it crept upward at a maddeningly slow pace. When his fingertips brushed the hem of your skirt, toying with the edge in a teasing caress, you thought you might combust on the spot.

"5, 4, 3, 2..."

You pasted on a bright smile as the camera light flashed red, signaling you were live. But even as you launched into your practiced introduction, you could feel Hinata's hand continuing its torturous exploration beneath the desk.

His fingers danced along the edge of your skirt, occasionally dipping just beneath the fabric to graze the lace edge of your panties. Each touch sent sparks of heat crackling through your veins, your focus splintering as you strained to maintain your composure.

Beside you, Hinata answered the questions smoothly, flashing his signature megawatt smile at the camera. But the hand on your thigh never ceased its maddening ministrations, slipping higher and higher until he was tracing the crease where your thigh met your hip.

You clenched your teeth as a shudder tried to rip through you, your hands white-knuckled. God, how were you supposed to concentrate with him touching you like this, live on national television?

But Hinata seemed utterly unaffected, bantering easily with the hosts even as his fingers crept to the apex of your thighs. When he boldly cupped your clothed pussy, barely stifling a groan at the damp heat he found there, you nearly bit through your lip trying to hold back a whimper.

"...wouldn't you agree?" the other host suddenly asked, turning to you with an expectant smile. Your heart lurched into your throat as you scrambled to recall what the question had even been.

"I...yes, absolutely," you managed, hoping your voice didn't sound as strained as it felt. "Hinata has certainly been a driving force behind the team's success this season."

Hinata's fingers pressed harder against your clit, the sudden friction nearly buckling your spine, and you had to disguise your choked gasp as a cough. Somehow, you maintained the semblance of poise, nodding as the host turned his attention back to the ace.

But beneath the table, the fingers between your thighs were a maddening pressure. He traced along the edge of your panties, then dipped below the lace to slide a thick digit along your folds.

"Shit," you breathed, barely above a whisper. You hoped the sound wouldn't pick up on camera.

Hinata smirked at you from the corner of his eye, clearly enjoying watching you come apart at his hand. With an agonizingly slow motion, he circled your entrance, spreading your slick wetness as you struggled not to squirm in your seat.

"Well, I couldn't do it without the support of my fans," Hinata interjected smoothly, shooting you a sly wink. "Especially my biggest fan right here."

You felt your cheeks flood with heat at the blatant innuendo, praying the camera would attribute your blush to the flattery. If only they knew just what Hinata was doing to you beneath the professional veneer...

The interview wrapped up shortly after, much to your relief. You maintained your smile as the hosts signed off, barely suppressing a shudder when Hinata gave your sensitive flesh a final, teasing squeeze before withdrawing his hand.

The second the camera light flicked off, you were shooting to your feet, your breath coming in shallow pants. Hinata rose more slowly, a knowing smirk playing about his lips as his dark eyes dragged over your disheveled form.

Heart pounding, you hurried into the dressing room, desperate to compose yourself after Hinata's bold touches during the interview. Your skin felt electrified, every nerve ending buzzing with barely suppressed need.

You braced your hands against the vanity, trying to slow your breathing. But then the click of the lock sounded behind you, and your pulse jumped into overdrive.

"You didn't think I was done with you, did you?" Hinata's voice was a low, dark rasp that sent shivers cascading down your spine.

You met his gaze in the mirror, your breath hitching at the raw, undisguised hunger burning in his eyes. He stalked towards you with predatory intent, his movements fluid and purposeful.

"Hinata," you managed weakly, your voice thin and thready. "We can't...not here..."

But he was already crowding into your space, his chest pressing against your back as his hands settled on your hips, firm and possessive.

"I can't wait anymore," he rasped, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. "I've held back for so long, but god, the way you respond to my touch..." His nose skimmed the column of your throat, making you shudder. "I need to feel you come apart for me."

Your eyes fluttered shut, a broken whimper escaping your lips. Every logical reason you shouldn't allow this, every professional boundary, seemed to evaporate like mist under the searing heat of his desire.

"Please," you whispered, the single word dripping with longing.

Hinata's hands tightened on your hips, a low groan rumbling through his chest. "Fuck, the things you do to me..."

Then his mouth was on your neck, your jaw, claiming each inch of skin with bruising intensity. One hand slid up your body to palm your breast through your blouse, calluses scraping your sensitive nipple and making you arch with a gasp.

"I'm going to take you apart," Hinata bit out against your skin, his voice tight with barely restrained need. "Gonna make you cum so hard you forget everything but my name."

Your head fell back against his shoulder, a moan spilling from your lips. You knew there would be no coming back from this, no way to pretend it never happened. But as Hinata turned you in his arms, his mouth slanting over yours in a searing kiss, you found you didn't care.

All you wanted was him.

Hinata hoisted you onto the vanity, his palms blazing a trail up the bare skin of your thighs as his tongue delved deeper. Your hands fisted in his hair, tugging hard enough to earn a groan of approval, and a wave of dizzying power flooded your senses.

He yanked your panties down your legs with such urgency, you swore you heard the lace tear. But before you could process, his hands were urging your thighs apart and his fingers were slipping through your soaked folds.

"So wet," he groaned, his fingers sinking into your heat and eliciting a sharp cry. "Is this all for me, baby?"

You whimpered a strangled affirmation, grinding desperately against his hand as he curled his fingers inside you. Your hands scrabbled at his shoulders, struggling to find purchase against the hard planes of muscle as he pumped his digits in a torturous rhythm.

"Shoyo," you whined, the plea falling from your lips without a second thought.

He growled, his eyes flashing dangerously at the use of his first name. His thumb flicked over your clit, drawing a strangled gasp from your throat, and you writhed beneath his touch.

"Say it again," he ordered, his free hand snaking up to fist in your hair and drag your gaze to his. The molten fire of his stare set your very soul alight.

"Please," you begged, no longer caring how wanton and desperate you sounded. "Shoyo, please!"

Hinata's teeth flashed in a wicked grin. Then his fingers were gone, and before you could mourn their absence, his head was dipping between your thighs.

The first swipe of his tongue had your spine bowing, a cry ripping from your throat. His grip on your hips was almost bruising as he feasted on your cunt, his tongue and lips and teeth working you into a frenzy. Your thighs clenched around his head, the heels of your stilettos digging into his broad shoulders. Pleasure crashed over you like waves, threatening to drown you, and still you couldn't get enough.

"Fuck, I could eat this sweet little pussy all day," Hinata groaned, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. "So fucking good."

His tongue speared into your core, and you shattered. The climax tore through you with the force of a freight train, your entire body convulsing with the intensity of it.

Your vision whited out, and for a moment, the only thing tethering you to earth was Hinata's hands. His tongue continued to work you through your orgasm, wringing every last drop of pleasure until you were shaking with overstimulation.

When the world finally came back into focus, you blinked blearily down at him. A fresh wave of heat washed through you as you took in the sight of him, lips glistening and pupils blown wide with desire.

"So pretty," he husked, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth in a gesture that should not have been so damn attractive.

But then he was hauling you closer to the edge of the vanity, and suddenly you were acutely aware of the hard length straining against the zipper of his dress pants. Your fingers itched to free him, to feel his bare cock heavy and thick in your hand.

Before you could act on the impulse, Hinata was shoving his pants down, his dick bobbing proudly against his stomach. You felt a fresh wave of wetness flood your core at the sight, anticipation and hunger thrumming in your veins.

"Tell me what you want," he rasped, the head of his cock teasing through your folds. You keened, your hips jerking up as you struggled to find the words.

"You," you managed, the desperation in your voice clear even to your own ears. "Shoyo, please..."

A groan ripped from his chest, the sound so feral, so animalistic, it should have frightened you. But instead, it sparked a fire low in your belly, a primal need to feel him buried deep inside you.

You kicked your heels off right as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide and pinning them back against your chest. He notched the thick head of his cock against your dripping cunt, and then he was plunging into you.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, your hands scrambling for purchase against the vanity. God, the stretch was nearly overwhelming, but you were too far gone to care. Your walls clenched around him, your hips rising to meet his frantic thrusts.

"So tight," he bit out, his pace punishing as he pounded into you. "Shit, I'm not gonna last, baby. You feel too fucking good."

A sob fell from your lips, the pleasure bordering on painful as he drilled into you. The vanity slammed into the wall with each rough thrust, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about the racket. Not when you were so close to falling apart, his cock filling you so completely.

One hand left your thigh to rub furiously at your clit, the additional stimulation sending stars bursting behind your eyelids. Your cries grew louder, more urgent, and you distantly registered the possibility of someone overhearing. But the thought was gone as quickly as it appeared, lost in the haze of pleasure.

"Look at me," Hinata demanded, his voice rough with command. Your eyes snapped to his, and you nearly came on the spot at the unbridled hunger blazing in his dark gaze.

"You're mine," he rasped, the hand on your hip moving to squeeze your jaw. "Say it. Say you're mine."

"Yours," you gasped, the words a choked sob. "All yours, Shoyo!"

Hinata released your chin, his fingers returning to toy with your clit as he pounded into you. You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pressure building in your core until you were sure it would snap.

"Cum for me," he growled, his gaze locked with yours. "Wanna feel you fall apart around my cock."

Then his thumb and forefinger pinched your clit, and you shattered. White-hot pleasure ripped through your body, the shockwave sending aftershocks cascading through your limbs. Your walls clenched around him, the spasms almost violent as you squirted around his length.

"Holy fuck," Hinata groaned, his rhythm faltering as his own climax crested. He managed a handful of wild thrusts, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside you, coating your walls with his release.

He collapsed forward, bracing his forearms against the vanity. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, both of you gasping for air as you slowly drifted back down from the high.

Despite the fact that the vanity was now sticky with your combined releases, Hinata made no move to extricate himself from you. Instead, he nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses to your flushed skin. His cock was surprisinglystill hard, the weight of him a grounding presence within you.

"Baby," he said after a moment, his lips quirking up in a smile against your collarbone, "think maybe I can convince you to leave work early today?"

A laugh bubbled up your throat, the joyful sound bright in the quiet room. "Why? So we can go home and continue this?"

"Mm, something like that," Hinata hummed, his grin widening. "And then you can help me celebrate my new Sports Illustrated cover by posing for me, naked, while I fuck you against every surface in my apartment."

[hoshifighting]

rockstar!reader x church boy & bestfriend!joshua

— Synopsis: Joshua and you had this contrast, you too embedded in the electric guitars, the polemic rock band shirts, and Joshua deeply focused on taking care of the church activities. He has no idea of the after-parties of your concerts, but after so much insistence of him, you bring Joshua to meet your wildest side, the side you never let him meet before. — Genre: Best friends to Lovers — WC: 11.05k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, slight angst, groupies showing tits references, alcohol, smoking and drug references, religious imagery—mention of a cross necklace, faith-based inner conflict. penetrative sex, rough sex, public make out, fingering, nipple play—reader have nipple piercings, face-slapping, mentions of boy fluids; cum/precum, cock riding, clit stimulation, dirty talk, post-sex care.

The neighborhood kids were a patchwork of personalities—there were the loud ones, the shy ones, the troublemakers, the saints. And then, there was you and Joshua. From the outside, it made no sense. You, the devil-may-care rebel with ripped jeans, always two seconds away from an argument with someone who couldn’t handle your attitude.

And Joshua, with his pristine shirts buttoned all the way up, soft-spoken voice, and the kind of calm that came from growing up in a house where every wall had a cross and every Sunday had a sermon. He was the kid who never missed a single morning of church, and you were the kid who never missed a single rehearsal with your rock band, banging out chords in your parents’ garage so loud the neighbors had to invest in better windows.

But here’s the thing: despite everything that set you apart, you were inseparable. You’d been friends since you were both knee-high, back when you didn’t even care about music or God or any of the other big things that defined you later. Joshua was the kid you trusted with everything. The one who’d patch up your scraped knees when you wiped out on your bike, even if you yelled at him for fussing too much. The one who never let you feel alone, even when the world felt like it was coming down around you.

You’d look at him sometimes—like now, when you two were sitting on the curb outside your house, him in one of those stiff, white shirts with the collar high enough to strangle someone, and you in your old, faded Black Sabbath tee—and wonder how the hell this worked.

“I don’t get why you always button that thing up like that,” you mutter, side-eyeing him as you light a cigarette.

Joshua looks over, raising a brow. “You sound like my mom,” he says, smirking. “Besides, it’s comfortable.”

“No way. You look like you’re ready to choke.”

“Yeah, well, you look like you’re ready to summon a demon or something in that shirt,” he fires back, glancing at the witch printed on the front of your tee. “You couldn’t find something uglier?”

You snort, blowing out a puff of smoke. “You’re just mad ‘cause you know Sabbath’s better than that crap you play.”

Joshua rolls his eyes. “Hey, I like Coldplay, alright? Not everything’s gotta be power chords and screaming.”

“I don’t scream,” you retort, half grinning.

“Yeah, you do.”

“Do not.”

“You screamed at the last gig.”

“That was—” You pause. “That was for effect.”

Joshua chuckles, shaking his head. “Sure. For ‘effect.’”

The thing is, Joshua could have roasted you to dust if he wanted to. But he never did. He’d always laugh it off, always find a way to turn the conversation into something lighter. And no matter how different you were, there was this unspoken respect between you. Like how he showed up to your gigs in high school wearing one of your band’s shirts, plastering flyers in the school hallways and sneaking some into the church bulletin board when no one was looking. 

And how you showed up at his baptism, cross necklace and all, standing there in the back, quiet but present. You never took the necklace off after that. The church boy who wouldn’t dare wear anything less than holy had given you a symbol of his faith, and you’d worn it ever since. You believed but weren't dedicated to it like Joshua, you used it because it was from him.

Joshua notices it now, the silver cross resting against your chest, slightly crooked. He reaches out, straightening it with a soft smile. “You still wear this?”

“Never took it off,” you admit, taking a long drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t mean I’m converting, though.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” he replies, leaning back on his palms. “I like that you wear it.”

You glance at him, a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Joshua says, turning his gaze toward the sunset dipping below the houses. “It’s…nice, y’know? Like, no matter how far apart we get, we’re still connected.”

“Connected, huh?” you murmur, tapping the cigarette ash onto the ground. “You’re getting sappy again, dude.”

He laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. “Shut up. You like it.”

“Yeah, but your world’s so boring, Josh. All hymns and Jesus. You should come to the dark side more often.”

“Pass,” he says with a smirk, but there’s warmth behind it. “I’d rather keep watching you make it big as a rockstar. Somebody’s gotta pray for you when you’re out there corrupting the youth.”

Maybe that’s the thing about you and Joshua—no matter how much you rag on each other, how different your lives look on the surface, there’s a connection you can’t explain. You’re fire and he’s ice, but somehow, you keep each other balanced.

“Hey,” you say, suddenly serious, eyes fixed on the street ahead. “Thanks for, y’know…showing up. For all of it. I know I’m not the easiest person to be around.”

Joshua’s voice softens. “You don’t have to thank me. You’ve always been there for me too.”

You glance at him, your heart doing this weird flip in your chest. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” you tease, though the words come out gentler than you intended.

Joshua grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Too late.”

You take another drag, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence, the kind only years of friendship can create. 

You weren’t trying to change him, and he wasn’t trying to save you.

The gossipy aunts on the block could speculate all they wanted—Joshua didn’t convert you, and no, you didn’t lead Joshua down some reckless path. You two were just… you. 

He’d brought you to church bazaars, where the smell of fried dough and barbecue sauce clung to your clothes long after you’d left, but he’d never pushed you to step foot into one of the more serious services. The ones where the hymns stretched on forever and people lost themselves in prayer. You didn’t do that, and he never asked you to.

And you? Well, you dragged Joshua to your gigs. He always stood at the front, close enough to feel the vibrations from the speakers, his clean-cut figure looking hilariously out of place in the sea of ripped jeans, leather jackets, and band tees.

But no matter how much he begged—and he did beg—you never brought him to the after-parties. The kind of chaos that erupted once the amps were off and the guitars were packed up. You’d drive him home, drop him off with a playful slap on the back, and head to the wildness he’d never see.

He didn’t need to know about the after-parties. He didn’t need to see you in your shortest leather mini skirt, the one that barely passed as clothing, as you downed beer after beer straight from the bottle, while the groupies flashed their tits at the band.

Joshua didn’t need to witness the wild shit that happened when everyone was too drunk or high to care about who was screwing who in the corner or the endless river of alcohol. That wasn’t his world, and you didn’t want him to see you like that. It was one thing for him to come to your shows, but seeing you let loose in a way that would make even your bandmates blush? No. He didn’t belong there.

Except… now Joshua was sitting with you in your garage, tuning your guitar like he always did before a big show, and he’d overheard you talking about the after-party.

“It’s the ten-year gig, huh?” he said casually, fingers sliding over the strings, adjusting them with that stupid focus he always had. “Big deal.”

“Yeah,” you replied, not thinking much of it. “It’s gonna be insane.”

Joshua’s head tilted, his lips pursing slightly. You recognized that look. It was the one he got when he was curious about something, when he was too polite to ask outright but dying to know more. He glanced at you. “You doing anything after? Like, after the gig?”

You paused. Shit. You hadn’t expected him to actually ask about that part. “Uh… yeah. There’s an after-party,” you said slowly, not looking at him. You fiddled with one of the tuning pegs on your bass, trying to look busy. “Same old stuff. You know.”

“I don’t know,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You’ve never let me go to one.”

You glanced up at him, already feeling your cheeks heat up. “That’s ‘cause it’s not your scene, Josh.”

“I want to see it,” he said, leaning forward a little. His voice was soft, but there was a determination there you weren’t used to. He wasn’t backing down from this one. “I’ve seen you perform. Why not let me see the rest?”

You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “Trust me, you don’t wanna see the rest.”

Joshua raised an eyebrow, studying you. “Why not?”

Why not? Why not? How were you supposed to explain this without getting even more flustered? You could feel your palms sweating just thinking about it. The thought of Joshua witnessing that version of you—messy, no filter—made your stomach twist in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable.

“It’s just… different, okay?” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “Like, the crowd’s wilder. Things get… crazy. I’m not the same up there as I am here.”

Joshua narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. “I’ve known you since we were in diapers, and you think I can’t handle ‘crazy’?”

“You’re not getting it,” you insisted, your voice a little sharper than you meant it to be. “This isn’t just a few beers and hanging out. People get wild, Josh. There’s stuff that happens that you probably don’t want to see. Hell, I don’t want you to see it.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he serious right now? Joshua, the guy who got anxious if someone said a cuss word too loud around him, was asking to see the madness that was your after-party?

“Why the hell would you want to see that?” you finally asked, genuinely confused.

“Because,” he said simply, leaning forward on his knees, “I’ve always seen one side of you. The side you let me see. I wanna see the whole picture. I want to know who you are when you’re up there, when you’re with your band, when you’re… being yourself.”

You felt your heart thud hard against your chest. Shit. This wasn’t just about the party, was it? He wanted to understand you. All of you.

“I don’t know, man…” You trailed off, looking anywhere but at him. 

“I can handle it,” Joshua said, voice gentle. “I’m not a kid. I know what goes on. Just because I don’t live like that doesn’t mean I can’t handle seeing it.”

You bit your lip, hesitating. He was stubborn, and you knew he wouldn’t let this go easily.

“Alright,” you finally said, sighing. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Joshua smiled, wide and a little too innocent. “I’ll take my chances.”

[...]

The van sat parked in front of your house, baking in the morning sun, loaded with amps, guitars, and a drum kit that had seen better days. You were supervising the guys hauling the last of the equipment into the back, hair still wrapped in rollers, trying not to sweat through your shirt before you even made it to the venue.

And then, you saw him.

Joshua was walking up the driveway, and for a split second, you didn’t recognize him. The button-up shirt, the clean-cut image you were so used to—it was all gone. Instead, he was wearing one of your shirts, and not just any shirt. 

It was from your solo album outside the band, the one with the wild, scrawling letters across the chest and the cover art below. The cover art that featured your bust, as your tits were covered by an electric guitar. Skin covered in smeared kiss marks, lips of all colors pressed against your skin in a way that had been raunchy enough to make your bandmates whistle when you first showed them.

The album cover had been controversial, to say the least, but it sold like hotcakes. And Joshua—Joshua—was strutting around in it like it was no big deal.

You almost choked on your own spit.

He had black jeans on, hugging his legs in a way you didn’t expect, and he’d thrown on a couple of leather bracelets that looked suspiciously like the ones you’d worn on stage a few times. And the sunglasses perched on his head? Definitely not his usual vibe. He looked like someone who belonged backstage, maybe even on stage, and not at some church picnic. Worse—he looked like the kind of guy you could moan just from looking at.

Your brain short-circuited. You could already imagine the girls from your staff catching sight of him and drooling. Hell, you were almost drooling.

But then you caught sight of that shirt again, and all you could think was, out of all the merch I’ve got, why the fuck did he pick that one?

“Josh…” you called out, your voice full of disbelief as he approached. You gestured at the shirt. “Did… did your parents see you before you left?”

Joshua burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Are you kidding? No way. My mom would’ve had a heart attack. I snuck out before they were even awake.”

You groaned, clapping your forehead. “Oh my God. You realize you’re walking around with a picture of my tits on your chest, right?”

He grinned, glancing down at the shirt like it hadn’t even occurred to him. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s bold, right?”

“Bold?” you repeated, eyes wide. “It’s fucking obscene! You wearing that is obscene. Jesus, I can already hear the aunties in the neighborhood clutching their pearls.”

Joshua shrugged, completely unfazed. “Relax. No one from church is gonna be at the venue. I’m good.”

You gave him a hard look, still half in disbelief. “I’m not worried about church people, I’m worried about all the other people.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t think I can pull it off?”

You blinked. Was he pulling it off? The more you stared at him, the more your brain started to fry. You didn’t know how to process this new Joshua—the one standing in front of you like he’d been born to wear that shirt. Born to make you lose your goddamn mind.

Joshua noticed your silence and raised an eyebrow. “What? You embarrassed?”

“I—no!” you shot back, though your cheeks were burning. “It’s just… fuck, you couldn’t pick a more normal one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, flashing a grin that was a little too cocky for your liking.

“I can already see the crew girls drooling over you.”

Joshua shrugged, completely unfazed. “Let ‘em drool.”

You had to laugh at that.

“You know what? Never mind,” you muttered, waving him off. “Let’s just get to the venue before I lose it.”

Joshua chuckled and followed you to the van, casually tossing his sunglasses onto the dashboard as he climbed into the passenger seat. You took one last glance at him before slamming the door shut. He was leaning back, arms crossed, looking totally at ease in a way that was both infuriating and… kind of hot. Shit.

You could feel Joshua’s presence next to you, his knee brushing yours whenever you hit a bump. It was distracting as hell, but you did your best to focus on the road, on the gig, on anything that wasn’t Joshua in that damn shirt.

The ride was filled with the usual chaos—your drummer tapping out beats on the seat in front of him, your guitarist tweaking pedal settings on the floor, and the bass player scrolling through social media, barely paying attention. Joshua sat next to you, quiet, but you could tell he was absorbing everything. The energy, the vibe. This was the part of your life he’d never seen before.

When you finally pulled up to the venue, you felt the familiar buzz of expectation in your chest. The stage crew was already setting up, speakers being wired in, lights being tested. You hopped out of the van, gesturing to the others to get moving.

Joshua followed close behind, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. The venue was bigger than the high school stages he was used to seeing you on. It was packed with people running back and forth, instruments being tuned, sound checks echoing in the air.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the stage. “This is...bigger than I expected.”

“Told ‘ya,” you said, grinning as you grabbed your bass and slung it over your shoulder. “Welcome to the real deal.”

Joshua nodded, clearly impressed. You could see the awe in his face, and a part of you felt proud that he was seeing this side of your world. The chaos, the noise, the energy. It was all part of the life you lived—the one he’d never been fully exposed to.

As the band started running through sound check, Joshua found a spot near the back, watching quietly, tapping his foot along with the beat. Every once in a while, you’d glance back at him, half-expecting to see him overwhelmed, but he wasn’t. He was nodding along, sunglasses now perched on his nose, looking like he fit right in.

You could hear the low murmur of the crowd outside, getting louder as more people settled into their seats. Joshua was still talking with Rob, your drummer, which gave you just enough time to pull the rollers out of your hair and finish your makeup in front of the cracked mirror in the dressing room. You rushed through it, swiping on your signature dark lipstick, when the door creaked open, and in walked Joshua.

Of course.

He stopped mid-stride, eyes darting around the room, then finally landing on you—and your outfit. You were wearing a black, lacy top that was just sheer enough to leave little to the imagination, especially when it came to the piercing you knew he had seen before. You’d never made a big deal out of it, but every time Joshua caught a glimpse, he’d get that uncomfortable look on his face, like he wasn’t supposed to be seeing something so private.

“Eyes, Joshua. Eyes,” you could almost hear him coaching himself. His gaze flickered up to your face, but it was too late—you’d caught the quick dip to your chest, to the black leather pants hugging your hips like a second skin.

“Uh, hey,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck, clearly trying to act casual, but his voice came out rougher than usual. “I was, uh… just letting you know I should probably get to my seat. The crowd’s filling in.”

You smirked, finishing the last swipe of lipstick and tossing the tube onto the makeup table. “Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and adjusting the top slightly. “You’re not sitting in the crowd anyway.”

“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion, still trying hard to maintain eye contact, which was almost comical at this point.

“You coming up for the encore,” you explained, crossing your arms. “VIP section, side-stage. Didn’t I tell you?”

Joshua blinked. “No. You didn’t mention that.”

You grinned, seeing how flustered he was, and it only made you want to push him further. “Guess I forgot.” You winked, loving the way his mouth opened slightly, the words stuck in his throat. “Go get settled. We’ll call you up when it’s time.”

He mumbled something under his breath and awkwardly nodded, backing out of the room with a half-hearted wave. As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a breath, grinning to yourself. Good luck keeping your eyes up there, church boy.

[...]

By the time you hit the stage, the crowd was electric. You could feel the vibration in your bones, the pulse of the drums and bass weaving through your body. The lights were blinding, sweat already starting to drip down your back within the first few songs. You scanned the crowd, catching sight of Joshua standing where you told him, off to the side, eyes glued to you like he’d never seen you before.

Maybe he hadn’t.

You weren’t just some girl with a guitar tonight. You were in it, the music flowing through your veins, your hands sliding over the neck of the guitar like they were made for it. The band was tight, every note hitting harder than the last, and you felt alive in a way you couldn’t describe. The crowd roared, hands reaching out as your bandmates, already stripped of their shirts, threw them into the audience like trophies.

Joshua’s eyes were wide, watching the sweat drip down your arms as your muscles flexed with every chord change. You were lost in it, mouth slightly open during one of your solos, head thrown back as you pulled the guitar into your body like it was an extension of you. You could feel his gaze, heavy and unblinking, and it only pushed you harder. You let your voice growl into the mic, letting out the kind of raw, strong energy that got you here in the first place.

His mind must’ve been racing. He’d seen you play before, but never like this. Never with this much heat, this much intensity. You weren’t just a rockstar tonight—you were a sex symbol, and every single person in that venue, including Joshua, could feel it.

It hit him then—this was why you didn’t want him to come to the after-parties. It wasn’t just about the chaos or the booze. It was because, in this space, on stage, with the lights and the music and the crowd screaming your name—you were untouchable. And so, so fucking hot.

He’d always known you were beautiful, but this? This was something else. Watching your body move in rhythm with the music, the way your fingers slid across the strings, the sweat glistening on your skin—fuck. Joshua couldn’t take his eyes off you. Every part of you was dripping with confidence, sexuality.

The crowd erupted as you launched into the final solo, the room swelling with the sound of your guitar. Joshua’s gaze lingered on your body, on the way your leather pants clung to every curve, on the sway of your hips as you moved, and on your lips, slightly parted as you leaned into the mic. He swallowed hard, heat rushing to his face as he watched your muscles tense and release, every move planned, every note flawless.

His thoughts ran wild, and as you finished the set, throwing your head back in a final roar of victory, he couldn’t help but think, So this is what she didn’t want me to see.

The show ended in a blur of cheers and flashing lights, the energy still pulsing in your veins as you stumbled off stage, half-drunk on adrenaline. When you spotted Joshua at the back of the room, standing there with that wide-eyed look of disbelief, you couldn't help but laugh.

You walked over to him, sweat still glistening on your skin, a tired but satisfied grin on your face. “Well?” you asked, chest heaving. “What’d you think?”

Joshua blinked, forcing his gaze up from the floor to meet yours. He swallowed thickly, that guilty knot tightening in his throat. “It was… amazing,” he admitted, his voice a little hoarse. “You were—fuck, you’re incredible up there.”

His compliment was genuine, but there was something else in his eyes. Something conflicted, like he wasn’t sure how to feel about what he’d just seen. His best friend—the girl he’d known since forever—looked like this. Played like that. He felt sick about it. Sick because his heart was pounding for all the wrong reasons. Sick because seeing you like that—half-wild, sweaty, powerful—it wasn’t just admiration anymore.

You grinned, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Told you it was a rush.”

Before he could respond, the two of you heard the unmistakable sound of feet pounding the floor. Fans. A whole wave of them was running toward the back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the band before they left. You didn’t even think, just grabbed Joshua’s hand and yanked him with you, sprinting toward the van parked outside.

You were laughing as you ran, your grip tight around his wrist, and Joshua couldn’t help the way his heart raced—whether from running or from being so close to you, he didn’t know. He could hear you breathing hard, could see the wildness in your eyes. And for the first time, he got it. The thrill. The chaos. The rush that came with living your life like this.

By the time you both reached the van and slammed the door behind you, you collapsed onto the seat, letting out a long, relieved moan. Joshua just stood there for a moment, chest heaving, eyes wide. He felt it now—the thrill, the electric hum in his blood. But also something else, something that made his stomach twist.

When you caught his eye and smiled that lazy, satisfied smile, he felt like he was losing his grip. You looked like a sexy mess, hair tousled, lipstick smeared, eyes sparkling. He could still feel the warmth of your hand in his, and it was doing things to him—dangerous things.

“The after-party’s at a club,” you said, glancing at him as the van roared to life. “Private for tonight. Just the band and our friends.”

Joshua nodded, his mouth dry. He had no idea what to expect.

[...]

The club was another world entirely.

The moment you stepped inside, Joshua was hit with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and something that might’ve been smoke, but wasn’t just cigarettes. The bass was pounding, vibrating through the floor, and there were bodies everywhere.

The first thing he noticed was your bandmates already surrounded by a small crowd of girls—half-naked, some practically sitting in their laps. One of them was making out with the guitarist, her hand slipping under his shirt while the others just laughed, already drunk and messy.

Joshua’s throat tightened, his eyes wide as he took it all in. It was chaos. Absolute chaos. People were drinking, smoking, making out in dark corners, hands wandering under clothes with zero shame.

And then there was you.

You didn’t miss a beat, grabbing a drink from the bar and downing it like it was water. When you turned to face him, leaning back against the bar with your leather pants clinging to your body and your shirt barely covering anything, you were a vision. A sexy, disheveled vision, your hair a mess, lips wet from the drink, and eyes hazy from the adrenaline of the show.

You were the kind of person that people wrote songs about—the kind of person that people lost themselves over.

“You good?” you asked, voice low, almost drowned out by the music.

Joshua blinked, swallowing hard. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.” But he wasn’t. He could barely keep his head straight with everything going on around him.

You grinned, holding out your drink. “Here. This’ll help.”

He hesitated for a second, but then grabbed the glass, taking a long gulp. The burn of alcohol felt good, grounding him for a moment. But it wasn’t enough to block out the heat in his chest, the strange attraction, the strange guilt swirling inside him.

You chuckled, watching him down half the drink. “Easy there.”

Joshua wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling hard. He shook his head, swallowing again, trying to focus. But then you were close—too close—and he could smell the combination of your perfume and sweat, and suddenly it was all he could think about. You were so casual about it, so relaxed in this wild mess, like you were born for it.

Joshua stared at you, watching the way your body moved with the music, the way your hips swayed slightly, your hair falling in your face. And he couldn’t help it—he wanted you. Wanted to pull you close, to taste the sweat on your skin, to feel the heat of you pressed against him.

But he couldn’t. You were his best friend. You’d been through everything together. But right now, in this moment, you weren’t just his friend. You were a fucking rockstar. And that terrified him as much as it thrilled him.

Joshua took another long drink, trying to drown the feelings that were bubbling up inside him. You watched him, a slow, knowing smile creeping onto your lips as you leaned in closer, eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“You feelin’ it now, aren’t you?” you whispered, voice just loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Because yeah, he was feeling it. The rush, the heat, the want. And it was all because of you.

Someone in the crowd—a guy with a half-buttoned shirt and lazy grin—held out a blunt to Joshua, smirking. “Want a hit, man?”

Joshua froze. His mind blanked for a second. “Nah, he doesn’t smoke. Leave him alone.” The air suddenly felt too heavy, the idea of it too real. Before he could even answer, you were at his side, grabbing the guy’s hand and pushing it back with a casual laugh. “He’s too saintly for that.”

Joshua froze, the word saintly cutting through the noise. You were teasing, of course, but that single word twisted in his gut. He didn’t need you looking at him like that—like he was too pure, too clean for this world you thrived in. He hated it. Hated that you saw him like some untouched, pristine version of himself that didn’t even exist. That look you gave him, all amused and lighthearted, made his skin crawl because it only reminded him of how distant he felt from you in that moment.

You grinned at him, eyes gleaming. “Come on, Josh. You’re way too neat for this shit. Leave the bad habits to me.”

He clenched his jaw, hands in his pockets, trying to keep his cool. The thing was—you had no idea. You saw him as the same old Joshua, the one you grew up with, the guy who kept his hands clean while you dived headfirst into the chaos. But fuck, that wasn’t him. Not really. Not anymore. You thought he was some perfect church boy who’d never done anything wild, who probably still had his V-card, for God’s sake.

If only you knew.

The way you laughed about it, as if the thought of him doing anything wild—anything sinful—was so absurd it was hilarious. And that burned. More than it should’ve.

Joshua swallowed, trying to keep his cool, but your words dug in deep. Saintly. Neat. Like you didn’t know. Like you couldn’t even imagine him doing anything like that. He wasn’t a fucking saint. He wasn’t clean like you thought. He’d done things—felt things—that would wipe that smirk off your face. But you… you never saw him that way. Not Joshua.

 “You’re lucky, y’know? Not everyone can pull off that whole saintly thing,” you teased, brushing a hand through your messy hair.

He clenched his jaw. “I’m not a fucking saint,” he muttered under his breath. But you didn’t hear him—or maybe you didn’t care.

Joshua felt his pulse quicken, the alcohol buzzing in his system, loosening up the tension in his limbs but doing nothing to calm his mind. He hated how you looked at him. Like he was too clean, too good for this world you lived in. He hated how you never saw him as anything more than “good ol’ Joshua.” The guy who had never gone off the rails, the guy who probably never even had his dick wet before.

That’s what you thought, wasn’t it?

And fuck, he couldn’t stand it. The truth gnawed at him, because you had no idea who he was outside of your little bubble. You didn’t know about the times he’d stayed up too late, desperate to cum, the fantasies he’d let himself get lost in—half of them about you, goddammit. You didn’t know about the nights he’d spent grinding against someone, hands buried in their hair, feeling the warmth of their body pressed against his, the messy nights where he lost himself entirely.

You looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

His breath caught. You were joking—you had to be—but something in the way you said it, so casual, so sure that he wouldn’t… it broke something in him. The club around him blurred as he focused on you, standing there all relaxed, your lips still slightly parted, that familiar teasing glint in your eyes.

He couldn’t stop himself. “You really think I’m that fucking innocent, huh?” His voice was sharper than he intended, the words cutting through the thrum of the music.

You blinked, pulling back slightly, surprised by the edge in his tone. “What? No, I just—”

“You think I’ve never been with anyone? Never had my fuckin’ cock wet before?” He didn’t care how crude it sounded. Didn’t care that it was probably the first time you’d ever heard him talk like that. He was sick of it. Sick of the version of himself you’d created in your mind.

You feel the heat rise in your chest, a compound of anger and something else you don’t even want to admit. The way he said it—rough, out of character—like he was someone else entirely. Part of you wants to slap him for it, for breaking the image of the Joshua you knew. The good one. The clean-cut guy who’d never even raise his voice, let alone tell you he wasn’t so fucking innocent. But the other part of you… it liked it. The tension, the bite in his words, the way he stood there, all riled up.

You narrow your eyes, smirking just a little.

His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare. For the first time, you see his eyes darken—none of that usual light. No soft Joshua anymore. His face shifts into something harder, almost dangerous. It catches you off guard, and suddenly you’re not sure if you’re playing a game you can win.

“Don’t push it,” he warns. It sends a cold lick from the beginning of your spine to the end, but you tilt your head, still smirking, testing him.

“What? Gonna do something about it?” You lean in closer, just inches from his face now, daring him. “C’mon, Joshua. Show me.”

And then it happens.

He’s on you so fast, you don’t even have time to process it. His hands grab your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you feel it—the hard line of his cock pressing into your belly. Your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you lean in, testing the waters, your body instinctively reacting to the sudden heat between you two.

His mouth crashes onto yours, rough, almost desperate, all that pent-up tension is spilling out at once. His lips are soft but demanding, like they’re asking for something, but also taking it without permission. You kiss him back just as fiercely, a messy clash of teeth and tongues, the taste of alcohol on both your breaths mixing as you struggle for control.

His hands slide down your back, grabbing your ass with a roughness that makes you gasp, and he pulls you tighter against him, grinding into you just enough to let you know exactly how turned on he is. “Fuck,” he mutters into your mouth, barely pulling away to speak. You can feel the frustration, the years of him being the good one, bubbling up in every kiss, every touch.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, but you grab onto his shoulders, pulling him even closer, your nails digging into his skin through his shirt. It’s messy, frantic, and the sound of it—the heavy breathing, the low growls coming from him, the way your lips smack together—fills the small space between you like the only thing that matters is how fast and hard you can make this happen.

And god, it’s wrong. So fucking wrong. You can feel it in the back of your mind, the thought lingering, telling you this isn’t who Joshua is. Not the guy you grew up with. But right now, he doesn’t feel like the Joshua you knew. He feels like someone who’s been hiding this side of himself for too long, someone who’s finally letting the mask slip.

And the worst part? You like it. Maybe too much.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, and his eyes—fuck, his eyes are almost black with craving, his chest heaving as he stares at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. You can see it on his face—how much he wants this, how much he needs to prove to you that he’s not as clean as you think he is.

“You sure you wanna keep pushing?” His voice is raspy, breathless, and his grip on your hips tightens. “’Cause I don’t think you can handle what happens if you do.”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t back down. “Try me,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

And just like that, he’s on you again. This time, rougher. His mouth moves down to your neck, teeth scraping against your skin as he kisses you there, biting just hard enough to make you gasp. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and you feel the hard press of his cock grinding into your stomach as his hands roam over your body, touching, grabbing, pulling. He’s all over you.

You’re backed into the wall of the van now, his body trapping you there, and for a second, you think about the others. Your bandmates. The people who know Joshua—the real Joshua. You can almost feel their judgment, the silent “what the fuck” looks they’d give you if they saw this. If they saw how you’re fucking with his head, breaking him down until he’s someone else entirely.

But right now, none of that matters. Not when he’s kissing you like this, touching you like this. Not when his hand slips under your shirt, fingers grazing over your bare skin, making you shiver. Not when he’s showing you this side of himself that you never even thought existed.

And fuck, you realize. You’ve been wrong about Joshua. So, so wrong.

And he’s not done showing you just how wrong you’ve been.

Joshua’s hands slide under your top, squeezing your waist, his thumbs teasing your skin, brushing against the underside of your boobs until they find your nipples, flicking at the piercings. The sensation makes you gasp, your body betraying you as you fold under his touch. You clutch his arm, your breath heavy against his neck, before you moan right into his ear. You feel him twitch, nearly stumbling in front of you, his control unraveling.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, yanking it back to force his eyes on you. His bottom lip catches between his teeth, and you can see the hunger there, the intensity, the rawness of it. “We need to stop,” you breathe, trying to sound firm, but even to your own ears, it’s weak.

Joshua’s mouth presses back against your neck, and he mutters between kisses, each one punctuating his words. “No. You don’t. Want. To. Stop. Do. You?” His breath is hot against your skin, each word hitting you harder than the last, unraveling your willpower.

“I’m serious,” you insist, but it’s pathetic, because the way he’s touching you—like he’s memorizing every inch of your body, like he’s known this moment was coming—makes it impossible to think straight.

He pulls back for a moment, eyes searching yours, checking if you really want to stop. His expression softens, as if he’s giving you an out. 

“We need to stop, or we’re gonna end up fucking right here in front of everyone.”

For a second, you both pause, glancing around. The crowd is still buzzing, everyone too lost in their own world to notice what’s happening between the two of you. You could, technically. You could fuck right here, and no one would bat an eye, but that last shred of morality keeps you in check, pulling you back from the edge. Barely.

Joshua was imagining just how much worse things could get. But honestly, he liked every single one of these thoughts. 

He grabs your hand, pulling you toward the club’s parking lot, and rushing toward the van.

The heavy door of the van slides shut behind you, and Joshua locks it with a rough click, sealing the two of you inside. The second the door’s closed, it’s like the floodgates open. His hands are everywhere—grabbing, pulling, needy. He kisses you harder now, more frantic, his body pushing you against the side of the van, and your back hits the first seat with a thud.

You stumble, the both of you crashing into a pile of boxed-up instruments. Your knee hits a guitar case, his ass bump on the drum box, but neither of you care. Joshua’s hand slides down to your ass, squeezing hard as he pulls you into him, making sure you feel every inch of him pressed against your thigh. You’re practically panting, the need between you both building, burning.

You push him back toward the last row of seats, hands fumbling at his belt as you go, your teeth grazing his jaw, his neck, tasting the sweat and the heat from the show earlier.

He moans down in his throat, a sound that rumbles through his chest and straight into yours, and you swear it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. His fingers dig into your hips as he backs into the seat, pulling you down on top of him, your legs straddling his lap, the hard press of his cock straining against his jeans beneath you.

“Fuck,” you gasp, grinding against him, and his head falls back against the seat, eyes rolling shut for a second as you move. You take advantage of it, your lips finding his neck, your teeth scraping his skin just enough to make him hiss.

The leather of your pants is sticking to your skin, but you barely register it as Joshua leans down, kissing you again, his hands slipping under your top and pulling it up, exposing you. His mouth moves lower, trailing down your neck, across your collarbone, and then lower, until his lips are at your chest. He doesn’t hesitate—his mouth finds your nipple, and he flicks his tongue over the piercing, making you arch your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

The leather pants cling to you, slick with sweat, and you can feel every inch of them suffocating your skin. You groan in frustration, hands fumbling to yank them off. In your hurry, you knock your elbow hard against a nearby box, hissing in pain. Joshua’s hands are on you immediately, steadying you as you finally peel the damn pants down, tossing them aside like they personally offended you. He takes the opportunity to shove his own pants down to his knees, and as you glance up, he's yanking his shirt over his head.

You’re back on his lap before he even realizes what’s happening, grinding down on him through the thin fabric of your underwear and his boxers. It’s a hell of a lot better than the rough leather, and you feel the instant response—his hands grip your thighs so hard it’s like he’s holding on for dear life, his head falling back with this breathless, whiny moan.

His fingers slide down the front of your panties, finding you soaked, and he’s instantly wrecked. “Fuck, you’re dripping,” he growls, his voice ragged, eyes dark and hungry as they lock onto yours. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

The dirty words coming from him feel so wrong, so foreign, but god, it’s making your head spin, red flags of danger flickering in your mind, and you can’t stop.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you mumble, still grinding against his hand, but then he pushes a finger inside you, and your whole body jolts. A hand flies up, palm slamming against the fogged window for balance, leaving a print there as you rock forward, riding his thick, calloused finger.

His finger feels huge, and the stretch of it makes you dizzy. You’re thankful for the seat behind you, giving you the support you need because you’re practically sprawled back on it, grinding on his hand like your life depends on it. 

He’s watching you, eyes locked on every twitch of your face, every moan spilling from your lips, and then he slides another finger in. The stretch makes you gasp, thighs trembling as he moves them inside you, fingers curling and hitting that spot that makes your vision go blurry.

“Talk dirty to me,” he suddenly demands, voice low and gruff. 

“You… don’t like it when I curse,” you manage, barely coherent as his fingers keep moving inside you.

“Fuck that,” he growls, fingers curling deeper, making you whimper. “Call me whatever the fuck you want. Call me a motherfucker, I don’t care. Just talk to me, let me hear it.”

Your body’s trembling, eyes rolling back as you grind harder against his hand, desperate for more.

You moan, feeling his fingers pumping inside you as his thumb brushes your clit. You’re teetering on the edge, and words are spilling out before you can stop them. “God, Joshua… Always acting so pure. I bet no one would believe how fucking hard you are for me right now, huh?”

His breath stutters at your words, his fingers thrusting harder inside you. “Keep going.”

“Is this what you’ve wanted?” you gasp, rocking your hips against him, feeling that coil tightening in your belly. “You want me to ride your fingers like a fucking slut, huh?”

He groans, low and deep. "Fuck, yes”

Your body’s trembling, every thrust of his fingers pushing you closer to the brink. “You’re such a motherfucker,” you whisper against his lips, your voice breaking. "You feel that? Feel how close I am? You're gonna make me—shit!—cum all over your fingers.”

Your head falls back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed as his rough, calloused fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes your entire body tense. You're whimpering, struggling to keep the dirty talk going, but it's hard to form words when every nerve in your body is on fire. "God, Joshua, your fingers... they’re so fucking big," you manage to choke out, voice shaky.

He smirks, eyes dark, watching the way your body responds to him. “If you think my fingers are big,” he breathes, thrusting them deeper, faster, “imagine how you’re gonna feel when it’s my cock inside you.”

The thought sends another wave of heat pooling between your legs, and you grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin as he moves his fingers faster, relentless, pressing into your sweet spot over and over. Your walls clamp down around him, and a broken cry escapes your lips, your body trembling as the tension snaps, pleasure ripping through you in a rush.

"Fuck—Joshua!" you moan, your voice high and desperate as your orgasm hits you hard, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tight you can barely think. Your slick coats his hand, and he watches you fall apart, eyes locked on the way your body writhes against his, chest heaving, face twisted in pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, and you can feel him watching you, his expression mirroring your own without even meaning to. His lips part in a quiet curse, like he’s just as lost in it as you are, completely captivated by the way you cum on his fingers, riding the digits until you curl up on him.

His fingers slip out of you, slick and shiny, leaving you empty. Your breath catches in your throat when his hand dips down to his own cock, still hard and straining under the thin fabric of his boxers. He grunts softly, shifting, and you catch a glimpse of the outline of it through the fabric—big, thick. Your mouth goes dry at the sight.

He’s moving fast, lips already on you again, his mouth latching onto your nipple. You gasp as his teeth graze the sensitive bud, his tongue swirling over the metal of your piercing like he’s obsessed—after all, besides seeing it through your blouses, now he has them in his mouth. His grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer, almost like he’s trying to devour you.

“Fuck, Joshua,” you rasp out, voice shaky, still buzzing from the orgasm he pulled from you with just his fingers. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

He pauses for a second, teeth scraping your skin as his mouth moves up to nip at your collarbone, smirking. “What, you think just 'cause I look all neat and clean, I don’t know how to make a girl cum?” he leaves a wet hickey on your chest. “Trust me, babe, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

You arch into him, head tilting back as his tongue flicks against your other nipple, but this time, he looks inside your eyes. “Could’ve fooled me… always acting like a saint.”

His hand tightens on your thigh, sliding up between your legs again, brushing against your soaked panties. He smirks against your skin. “You’re the one who’s been driving me fucking crazy. Always teasing me. You know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

You’re about to reply, but his fingers are pulling at the waistband of your panties, dragging them to the side. The next thing you know, he’s pushing his boxers down, freeing his cock. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of it—he’s big, thicker than you expected, the tip already slick with precum. And for a moment, you can’t help but wonder how many girls have seen this side of him, but then he’s guiding you back onto his lap, hands firm on your hips, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Shit,” you whisper, feeling the thick head of his cock brushing against your folds. The feel makes you hold your breath, the heat from his body and the sheer wrongness of it making your pulse race.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a brief second, there’s conflict there—like he’s torn between the best friend who used to crash on your couch, and the guy who's about to fuck you. He’s barely holding himself together.

He guides himself inside you slowly, inch by inch, and you can feel every stretch, every pulse of his cock as it fills you up. You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as you sink down onto him, his size making your head spin. "Jesus, Joshua..." you groan, head falling forward, overwhelmed by how full you feel.

His cock feels impossibly big, filling you up completely, and for a moment, you wonder how the hell you’re even taking him.

His hands tremble slightly on your waist as he pushes the rest of the way in, a throaty moan slipping from his lips. “Fuck, this is so wrong,” he mutters, voice shaky, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re my fucking best friend, I shouldn’t be doing this—” His voice breaks off into another moan as you start to move, your hips rolling against him.

You watch him, grinning at the conflict flickering in his eyes, the way his face contorts with each movement of your hips. His best friend—the girl he’s never even crossed boundaries with—now stretched out, tight around his cock. It's almost too much for him, his mind clearly buzzing with how wrong it is, but his body craves more, needing the way you feel wrapped around him.

His moans meld with yours, louder now, whiny. "You're making me fucking lose my mind."

You lean in close, lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “Then lose it. Let me fuck you like no one else ever has.”

He growls low in his throat, his control slipping completely. He thrusts up into you, harder, deeper, and you moan, head falling back as your body rocks against his. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing roughly as he pulls you down onto him again and again, his cock hitting deeper with each thrust.

You press both hands to his chest, halting his frantic thrusts, pinning him back against the seat. “Whoa, slow down,” you say, eyes locked on his as you adjust yourself, shifting until you find the angle that makes you gasp. His cock twitches inside you, and you bite back a smirk. You know you’ve got him right where you want him now.

You flick your hair to one side, leaning back a bit, and start riding him slow, dragging it out, making sure he feels every inch. His mouth opens to say something, but you change the motion, circling your hips instead, and whatever he was going to say dies in his throat. You scoff, half laughing, half moaning. “What? Why so quiet now?”

His hands fly to the armrests, knuckles turning white as he grips the leather for dear life. You know exactly what he’s doing—trying to stop himself from grabbing you too rough, like you can’t handle it. Like you don’t want him to. But you take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, his palm practically engulfing your head. You lean into his touch, biting your lip before saying it. “Slap me.”

His eyes go wide. “What?”

“Come on,” you grind down on him again, slower, teasing. “You’ve never slapped anyone before? Right on my face. Do it.”

He looks torn, breath hitching as you ride him harder. You can tell he’s struggling to even think straight, his stomach clenching, his abs flexing under your hands as the pleasure hits him hard. But it’s your pace that’s driving him insane, the way you bounce on his cock, taking him deep, then slowing down just enough to drag it out. He’s barely hanging on.

His voice is rough when he finally speaks, “Fuck… I don’t—” He gasps when you clench around him on purpose, his hips flinching up into you, reflexive. His hand tightens on your jaw before he lets go, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can—”

“Shut up,” you whisper, eyes burning with challenge. “Slap me.” The way you’re looking at him, daring him, makes his heart pound in his chest. He hesitates for half a second, but when you grind down on him again, harder, his control snaps.

He slaps you, hard. Harder than he intended.

The sound of it rings out, followed by his shocked gasp. But you’re already moaning, your pussy clenching so tight around him that he almost loses it. He watches in disbelief as you react, the slap turning you on even more, your walls fluttering around his cock, soaking him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, staring at you, wide-eyed, as you keep riding him like nothing just happened—no, like it made everything better.

Your body jerks with each bounce, the slap leaving a burning sting on your cheek, but all it does is fuel the fire between your legs. “See?” you taunt. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He groans, the sound low and desperate. “Fuck… you’re fucking insane.” His hands find your waist again, but this time he doesn’t try to hold back. He grips you tight, fingers digging into your skin as you grind against him, circling your hips just to watch his head fall back, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut.

Every time you clench down on him on purpose, his whole body flinches, like he’s trying so hard not to lose control. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls, voice ragged. “I can feel… fuck, I can feel you squeezing me like you want me to fucking break.”

You bite your lip, eyes half-lidded as you meet his gaze. “Maybe I do.”

Joshua's thumb strokes the still-hot skin of your cheek where he slapped you. You bounce hard on his cock, the slap only making the tension between you snap tighter. His thumb lingers, gently caressing the mark like he’s making up for what he did, but you grin, biting your lip through the pleasure and ask for more;

“Slap me again.”

It’s the same voice you used when you asked him to push you harder on a swing—excited, impatient, full of that rush of adrenaline. He sucks in a breath, brows furrowed like he’s torn, but the way your pussy tightens around him makes his decision for him. His hand raises again, and this time, it lands with purpose.

Your face turns to the side from the force, cheek burning red-hot, and fuck, it burns even better than the last one. 

Your pussy tightens around him instantly, and Joshua groans. He can feel the way your body responds, how you pulse around him every time he does it. You moan, “Fuck… I think I’m gonna cum again.” The whine at the end of your sentence makes his cock twitch, and it sparks something animalistic in him.

Joshua grabs your hips, lifting you just enough to pin you down on his lap, grinding his pelvis into you so deep that your vision goes hazy for a second. You roll your eyes, barely hanging on. Before you can catch your breath, he’s flipping you onto the seat, his cock never leaving you as he lays you down, spreading your legs up and grabbing the backs of your knees.

The new angle has you arching your back immediately, hands scrambling for purchase on the seat. He starts thrusting, and it’s so hard and deep you swear your body is melting into the seat. Each snap of his hips sends a sharp lock of bliss through you, his pelvis slamming into yours, and you know anyone outside can hear the van rocking, but you don’t fucking care.

You don’t care about anything except him, the way his thumb circles your clit just as he slips it down, thumb circling the base of his cock, spreading your slickness over the throbbing nerve. Your body jerks, an involuntary sob escaping your throat.

Joshua’s never seen you like this—ruined, makeup streaking down your face, thick tears rolling down your cheeks. His grin is huge, his breath ragged as he stares down at you, fucking relentless in his pace. “Aw, look at you. You’re crying on my cock,” he coos, his voice laced with sweet mockery. He presses harder on your clit, making you squirm, and he chuckles low, shaking his head. “Such a good girl, crying for me like that. You can’t even handle it, can you?”

You let out a strangled gasp, your body writhing under him as you feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, everything inside you winding so tight. “Fuck,” you choke out, “Josh, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby,” he growls, leaning down, his mouth right by your ear now. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, gonna make a mess of me?”

You’re too far gone to answer, your head tipped back as your body reaches its breaking point. His thumb circles your clit faster, his cock hitting that spot inside you over and over, and your whole body shakes uncontrollably. You feel the coil snap inside you so hard that you almost black out, your pussy clenching around him like a vice as you cum, the orgasm ripping through you with inhuman intensity. 

You scream his name, tears streaming down your face as you sob through it, your body trembling violently as your release floods out of you, soaking his cock and thighs.

Joshua watches, mesmerized by how fucking ruined you are beneath him, and he leans down, whispering against your lips, “That’s right. Cry for me more, baby. Show me how good it feels. Look at you… soaking me like that, dripping all over me.”

Joshua's hips stutter, and you feel the unmistakable swell of his cock inside you, growing thicker, pulsing as he teeters on the edge. He pulls out suddenly, leaving you breathless as he grips his cock, jerking it against your slick stomach. His hand is tight, desperate, moving fast as his chest rises and falls in ragged breaths.

His moans are a mess—whiny, high-pitched, slipping from his throat like he can’t control them. He bites his bottom lip hard, but the sly little whimpers escape him anyway, each sound more desperate than the last. His abs tense, his whole body trembling above you, muscles tight as a cord about to snap. His eyes flutter shut, head falling back slightly as he loses himself in the feeling.

“Fuck—” he gasps, his voice breaking as his orgasm hits him like a freight train. His grip falters for a split second, and then his cock jerks hard in his hand, spilling hot ropes of cum. It spurts in thick, messy streams, splattering across your belly, sliding up toward your chest, even reaching your chin. His knees buckle slightly, and he has to grab the back of the seat in front of him to keep from collapsing, his whole body shuddering through the force of it.

He’s panting, still jerking himself through the aftershocks, and his cum keeps dripping from the tip, mixing with the sweat that’s already covering both of you. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, falling to the side as your body finally gives out, utterly spent. The van feels suffocating, the air thick and humid, making it hard to breathe as the windows fog up completely now.

Joshua’s hand is still braced on the seat for support, knuckles white, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His eyes flicker open, and when he looks down at you—covered in him, eyes heavy, body limp—you can see the disbelief, the satisfaction, and maybe even a little guilt.

But neither of you moves, too wrecked to do anything but exist in the humid silence of the van, your breaths slowly returning to something like normal.

Joshua settles into the seat next to you, staring down at you like he’s trying to make sense of everything. You both stay silent, like the weight of what just happened hasn’t fully hit yet. Neither of you moves; it's as if you need this stillness to process, to figure out what the fuck this was and where it might lead. Was it the alcohol? The adrenaline? Or maybe the tension between you two, the one you both never admitted but always felt.

He suddenly stands up, his voice breaking the silence. “Where’s your necessaire?” You barely register the question, too lost in thought, so you just point lazily toward the front of the van, your limbs too tired to follow his movements.

You hear the zipper open, the soft rustle of him digging through your things. Your legs ache from the awkward position they’re in, but before you can shift, Joshua is back beside you. Without a word, he gently lifts your legs, folding them in a more comfortable position, almost cradling you. You catch his eyes as he pulls out makeup remover wipes.

He starts with your face, wiping away the tear-streaked makeup, his touch as soft as it’s ever been. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek tenderly—the same cheek he slapped earlier, his movements extra gentle now, like he’s trying to undo any mark he left.

You close your eyes, feeling his hands glide across your skin. “You’re lucky I know how to clean this up,” he teases lightly, the sound of his voice strangely comforting. “You always were a mess after shows.”

You hum, half-laughing. “You should see me after the after-parties.” The humor doesn’t land quite like it usually does; there’s something too real now, something too intimate that makes the joke feel heavy.

He uses a fresh wipe to clean the cum from your body, starting at your chin and working his way down your belly. His touch lingers, but it’s not lustful—more like he’s making sure every part of you is taken care of, like you’re something precious. “Lift your arm for me,” he says softly, and you comply, feeling the coolness of the wipe brush under your arm and along your ribs.

When he finishes, his hand slips to your necklace, the little cross with the rhinestones—one you wear mostly because of him. His fingers fiddle with it for a second, the small gesture almost grounding, like it’s pulling him back to reality. 

“You good?” he asks finally, eyes scanning your face, like he’s not sure if he went too far, if maybe you’re more hurt than you’re letting on.

“Yeah,” you breathe, and even though you’re wrecked, there’s something warm in your chest. “I’m good.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, his touch featherlight. “You sure? You need anything else?”

You smirk a little, exhausted but still yourself. “Yeah, I need a nap.”

Joshua chuckles under his breath, still holding your necklace. “Alright, you take that nap. I’ll watch over you.” There’s something sweet in his tone, a promise hidden in the words, something you know he means more than he’s letting on.

And as you start to drift, you can’t help but think that despite everything—despite the wild shit that just happened—Joshua is still Joshua. Sweet, caring, a little too good for this world, and somehow, still your person.

[...]

The nap you took wasn’t just any nap—it was wild, like the kind where time feels like it disappears. When you finally blink your eyes open, groggy and confused, the van’s already moving, and you hear muffled voices. Your crew is in the van now, going about their business like nothing happened. Instinctively, your hands fly to your chest, covering yourself, but you’re already dressed—the same clothes from the show.

Relief floods through you, though you’re not sure why. Then you realize where your head is resting—not on the uncomfortable seat like before, but on Joshua’s lap. His thick thighs beneath you are surprisingly comfortable, his body warm against yours.

You feel him stir beneath you, his body shifting as he wakes up too. His hand brushes against your arm, and you glance up, meeting his eyes. His hair’s a bit messy, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but there’s this soft smile on his face, one that makes you feel like everything’s okay.

“Mornin’,” he murmurs, voice rough from sleep, his hand absentmindedly stroking your arm.

“Mornin’,” you echo back, your own voice low and hoarse.

There’s a moment of quiet between you, the rest of the van oblivious to the weight of everything that passed between you two last night. You shift a little, feeling his thighs under you, and the memories flash through your head—the heat, the sex, the things you said and did. You wonder if he’s thinking about it too.

“You slept through everything,” he teases, his smile widening, though there’s a hint of something unspoken behind it.

You chuckle, adjusting slightly but still keeping your head on his lap. “Guess I was tired, hm?”

“Tired? You passed out,” he grins, his hand moving to gently fix your hair. “Had to dress you. Can’t have the crew thinking… well, y’know.”

Your face flushes a bit, imagining him trying to carefully dress you without waking you up. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” he says, his tone playful but gentle. There’s a pause, the kind that stretches just long enough to make you wonder what’s next, what happens after this.

You glance around at the others in the van, but it’s like they’re in their own worlds. No one’s paying attention, no one’s noticed how close the two of you are, how your head’s still in his lap, how his fingers are still brushing through your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You can get used to it, can't you?

[miniwheat77]

You belong to me. (Ghost x Reader.)

!reader is a Virgin, virginity loss, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Ghost is a little possessive, this is age gap smut and you’ve been warned. Ghost is like 40 in this. Absolutely NO minors!

This is not edited so sorry for any mistakes

He doesn’t know what did it.

He doesn’t know which part of you started this… obsession.

Maybe it was your smile. Or your personality. How lively you were for being in the military. It was a cruel job and you still managed to be so happy.

Maybe it was just that you were not his normal type in women. A young virgin. Who despite being exposed to some of the toughest situations out there was still so innocent.

But something caused it, made him have that one dream. He was tucked away in his bed, sound asleep. He seen your face as he fell into a deeper sleep. You were laughing and smiling. Turning to him to acknowledge him as he walked into a room. Greeted him with a kiss.

Ghost woke in a hurry, where on earth it had come from. He doesn’t know. He had never had these feelings for you before this. They came out of nowhere. And it started fast. Like he got sucked into a black hole and could no longer figure a way out. He was gone- done for. Every second he spent around you after that, he dreaded. Because Ghost didn’t do this. He didn’t have feelings for people. But your smile. Your laugh and how it could pierce his ears from what felt like miles away. How when you spoke to him, like you were talking to a friend made his brain foggy as he watched your lips move. Lost in a daze. Most of the time you had to repeat yourself because he was so spaced out he heard none of it.

He knew he was in too deep when he started looking into you.

Finding all of your social media accounts. Coming across every single post you’d ever been featured or tagged in. He knew who your parents and grandparents were and how close you were with some. He even snuck into Price’s office once and stole any file that contained you. He knew everything there was to know about you, down to your shower routine at night.

Ghost knows he’s got to be sick for how obsessed he’d become but he just couldn’t help himself.

When he came to the conclusion that you must be a virgin, he was by your side always.

If anyone else found out that you were a virgin- it would be bad. Especially some of the men who they called enemies. They were cruel and dangerous to women. During any missions at all, Ghost was right with you.

When it started, you didn’t understand it. Why he was all over you all of a sudden but you didn’t mind. You liked Simon. If he wanted to be friends, that’s okay. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t until he was killing for you that he knew he had a problem.

When an enemy had put their hands on you, he was merciless. He could be brutal, violent. But never to you. Not ever. It ate him alive that he liked you so much and he couldn’t have you. You weren’t his. You didn’t have to listen to him, you didn’t have to consider what he said. You had no ties to him whatsoever and it drove him mad. Ghost was bothered deeply by his infatuation with you. You would never go for someone like him, not when he’s old enough to be your dad. Some nights, when it’s especially cold. He can barely stand it. He wants you close to him, by his side at all times. He wants you. He wants it all.

“Alright. let’s have a chat, shall we?” Captain Price’s voice snags Ghost out of his thoughts.

He’s sitting off to one side of the large oak table sat in the middle of the conference room. Everyone else is inside as well. You’re next to him because he chose to sit down next to you. “Obviously, we’re going to go on a break for a few weeks, I wanted you all home for a while to relax before we started up on these next few missions. If you didn’t want to go, I can still find you guys something to do on base. There will still be other commanding officers and some other new recruits keeping it up and running. If you wanted to stay on base I need to know by tomorrow.”

Ghost will always respect Price. Always.

“I’d like to stay on base, Captain.”

Ghost respected him, and right now he almost wanted to give the old man a kiss once you’ve spoken up.

“Okay, Y/N. Anyone else?”

“Me, always.” Ghost mumbles. “Right, obviously.” Captain Price nudges him. “Workaholic.” Price mumbles, making Simon smile underneath his balaclava.

Ghost doesn’t hear another word of the meeting. You don’t say anything else and that’s all he wanted to hear. Although he wondered why you were choosing to stay on base when you had a family.

Once the day came when everyone else left, Ghost was going to miss them. He always did during breaks. Especially on the few he’s been left alone. He missed Price’s lectures. Soaps banter, Gaz’s pranks. He missed them all, they were the only family he had of course. But he didn’t mind this time, not since you’d be around. You keep him company until they came back, if you liked it or not. Ghost was getting soft as he got older, he knew it. But he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t really want to anymore. He liked to be close with people even if he knew it would kill him if he lost any of them.

It takes a few days before Ghost finishes up what he usually does. Cleaning up his room, getting rid of some things. He likes to reset completely when he has the time. When he’s done, he finally decides to seek you out.

It seems as if you’re doing the same, your door is propped open and he walks right inside. “Hey.” You’re reaching for a book on a bookshelf. “Oh, hey Ghost.” You smile at him. You turn back to the bookshelf, turning back to him in a hurry. The book topples over onto you and you step away as the rest follow suit. He can’t help but laugh. “You’re.. not wearing a mask.” You blush. “No, I’m not.” He laughs. “You need help?”

“No I just didn’t expect you to come in here with your face out like that!” You laugh, picking up the books and setting them on your bed. “I mean.. I can put it back on.” He laughs. “No! No- I just. You caught me off guard that’s all.” You blush, avoiding his gaze as you stumble over his words. “You can’t walk in here practically naked, I mean you’re showing so much skin.” You joke. You can actually see his lips turn up in a smile and it makes your chest ache just how handsome he is. “Yeah, I know it’s a lot of handsome to just throw around like this.” He smirks, hearing you laugh. He loves it.

If he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d never complain again.

You roll your eyes.

“I see we had the same idea, bit of a reset.”

“Yeah, I just wanted it to all be set up and clean for when we go back out. Swear I’m still cleaning up sand from our trip to Iran.” You laugh. “Oh god me too.” Simon laughs. He sits down on the edge of your bed, watching you as you replace the books. He offers you help of course but you deny it. “I was wondering why you chose to stay, I thought you had mentioned visiting your parents?” Ghost doesn’t miss the way you stiffen.

“Uh.. well.” You turn to him. “It’s.. kind’ve… personal I guess.” You mumble. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He looks up at you. “It’s just this.. family friend we have.” You start, looking at the cover of the book in your hands. “He’s been my dad’s friend since I was in my early teens.” Ghosts hair stands up, worried at where you’re going with this. You sit down at the small desk you have in your room. “He always acted really weird when I was around and when I was home last… he tried.” You pause. “He tried making a pass at me, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It turned into this whole thing. My dad got involved and him and my mum didn’t believe me. They believed him. So yeah, they planned this big party for me to come back. But I found out they invited him so I lied and said I was stuck here. But.. I think you needed some company anyways.” You smile. You’re trying to make light of what you’ve just told him.

“I’m sorry to hear that. He didn’t touch you did he?”

Ghost knows he’ll track him down. Torture him for laying a finger on you.

“He tried.”

Ghost nods. “He left with a bloody nose.” You laugh. “You know, if he ever does anything to you. This entire base will have his head on a pike.” He looks up at you. The way he looks at you has chills rising on your body. He’s deadly serious. You smile. “I appreciate it, but I don’t plan on going back. Not when they sided with him so easily.” You laugh. “Ah, you get to missing them too much, just take me with you. I’ll be your body guard.” He laughs. Inside, Ghost is seething. How dare he. How dare he try to hurt you.

“I appreciate it, but I’m not putting you through that. They’re hard to get along with. Besides that if I brought him a guy twice my age I’d probably give my dad a heart attack.” Ghost laughs at this. “What the man doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” He winks, seeing the pink rise to your cheeks has you turning away from him.

“You’re funny.” You giggle.

———

For the next couple of weeks, you spend nearly every second of every day with Ghost. He helps you with your chores, you help him with his. You get done faster and get to spend even more time doing practically nothing together. You aid on a couple of spare missions, he shows you a little bit of mechanic work, he even rents a rental car in the town you’re in so that he could show you around. It’s by far some of the most fun you’ve ever had and you like being so close to Ghost. But there’s been something nagging at you in the back of your mind.

And that’s your growing feelings for him.

Your parents have nonstop harassed you to come home, even if it’s for a couple days. You ended up folding but the thought of leaving Ghost here alone drives you crazy. You never thought you’d be so close to the Lieutenant.

You’re sitting at the edge of your bed when he knocks at your door. Right about now, the two of you would be going down to have dinner. But this time, he shows up with trays in his hands. You smile as you open the door. “Mess hall is full, thought I’d bring you something before there’s nothing left.” He laughs. “Thanks Ghost.” You smile. “Is something going on?” He asks.

“Ah… I just.. thought I’d ask you something.” You say nervously. “What’s up?” He asks. “Well.. my parents have been nagging me to go home.” You sigh. He nods his head, sitting down at your desk. “And.. I told them I’d go home for just a couple days, no longer than a week.” You shrug. He nods his head. “Yeah? Are you going to be okay?”

“See that’s the thing. I.. was wondering.” You laugh. “If you’d go as like.. my.. I don’t know.” You pause. “Pretend boyfriend?” You laugh. He turns to you. “Yeah, no problem.” He looks up at you. “Wait really?” You ask.

“Course, not like I got anything better to do. Besides, if that bastard puts his hands on you it gives me an excuse to hurt him.” He shrugs. You laugh. “Hey. I really appreciate it. You have no idea.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “My dad is probably going to give you a lot of grief for how old you are though.” Ghost laughs. “Love, I’m in the military. I’ll be just fine.” You smile. Thank god.

———

You sigh, which makes Ghost turn his head to you. “What’s going on?” He asks. He’s pulling into the driveway. “That’s.. his car.” You sigh. “Hey.” He places his hand on your thigh to reassure you. “He’s not going to do anything. I swear I won’t leave your side.” You smile. “Thank you Ghost.”

Captain Price was surprised to hear that the two of you had left together, but after speaking to Simon in private he understood why. Simon felt a little bad for spilling your business but he was your Captain after all. You still had another few weeks before you were due back anyways, you had time to kill. Ghost helps you unload your bags. Carrying them up to the front door with you. Once you reach the door, your mum opens it up.

She’s shocked to see that you aren’t alone.

“Hi Y/N!” She smiles. Bringing you into a hug. “Hey.” You mumble. “Who is your friend?” She asks. “Oh uh.. this is Simon.” You nod. Simon reached his hand out. You can tell your mum is slightly intimidated by the sheer size of him. She takes his hand anyways.

“My boyfriend.”

Your mums eyes nearly bulge out of her head when those words leave your lips but she smiles nonetheless. “It’s nice to meet you, Simon.” She stands to the side. Allowing the both of you inside. “Your dad and Mike are in the back.” She smiles. Ghost can see you go stiff.

So his name is Mike.

“Simon I can show you Y/N’s room. So that you can go see your dad.” She turns to you. “That’s alright, Y/N said she wanted to show me her old room.” He smiles, rejecting her offer. You mentally thanked him. “Oh alright than. Well. I’m just finishing up dinner.” She smiles. “You know where to find us.”

You nod your head, leading Simon up to your old bedroom. “You are literally a life saver Simon.” You mumble the moment the door is closed. He laughs. “So.. am I staying in here with you. They got any strict rules?” He laughs. “No weird rules but there’s only one bed.” You blush. “That’s alright. Just don’t be a blanket hog.” He nudges you. “Let’s go meet Mike.” He grasps your wrist, tugging you along. You groan out. “I know you wanna bite his head off Simon but you can’t.”

“Says who?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Definitely not me.” You mumble. You lead Simon out to the back door to the back yard where everyone now sits. He opens up the door for you, your mum notices how kind he is to you immediately. She didn’t say anything to your dad yet, unsure of how this would go. It’s quiet the moment the both of you move closer. “Uh.. hey honey.” your dad smiles. He’s skeptical. “Who’s this?” He stands up. Ghost sees the man that’s made you uncomfortable. Staring him down from the moment they lock eyes. Only looking away to shake your dad’s hand. “I’m Simon.” He smiles.

“My boyfriend.” You finish for him. Your dad nods. “Nice to meet you Simon. You seem a little old.”

“Ah, to be honest I thought Y/N was older, she’s pretty mature for her age.” He nods. “Yeah, that’s true. She’s a good girl. Smart too.”

“Absolutely.” Simon agrees. Simon can see that Mike is uncomfortable upon hearing that you’ve got a boyfriend. It only makes Simon want to tear him to shreds even more. “Oh uh. Simon. This is Mike, he’s a family friend.”

Simon is sure to grip his hand extra hard as he shakes it. Towering over him. He wants him to feel small.

“Let’s sit for dinner yeah?” Your mum breaks the awkward silence.

It was nice enough outside to be able to sit outside to eat. Everyone keeps asking about Simon. How the two of you met and how you came to be. Simon made up something cute on the spot and you couldn’t deny the butterflies it gave you. Simon is a great man, and it sucks that you have to fake this.

“Hey Y/N. You mind helping me get some stuff out of my car?” Mike speaks up.

“Nonsense, no reason she should do it when I’m around. I’ll help you.” Simon Stands up from the bench. Mike stiffens up. It’s clear that there he had an ulterior motive. He’ll most likely have to come up with something in the spot. Simon expects him to say “oh I forgot.”

He leads Simon to his trunk.

Simon quickly notices that it’s empty. “Oh shoot. Maybe I forgot to put it in here after all.” Simon lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s not that you wanted to get Y/N alone so you could be a fucking creep toward her some more.”

“Excuse me?”

Simon grasps hold of the man, slamming into the back of the car. His hands gripping his lapels.

“She told me about you. And I’m not gonna let her be alone around you because you’re a fucking freak. If you even so much as look at her wrong I’ll bury you. And nobody will ever know where to find you. Do I make myself clear?”

Mike nods his head eagerly. “Yes I understand.” He flinches. “Great. Don’t come around again while she’s here. If I see your face again we’re going to have a problem. And if you tell her dad about this conversation we had, I’ll be sure to make the bullshit worth my while. Now go back in there and let them know you’ve forgotten about something and that you have to go.” He nods his head, and finally Simon lets him go. They both walk back into the house and Simon returns to his spot next to you. “I must’ve forgotten it at home, but my boss called me and asked me to come in for some last minute questions, so unfortunately I’ll have to get going.”

He looks pale. You know immediately something has happened. “Aw, sorry to hear that Mike. You have a good day alright?” Your mum smiles. Simon wants to scowl at her but knows he can’t.

It’s getting late. Both you and Simon are tired from the time zones and your parents are going to go play Bingo, Mike invited them out.

Unusual when you were home. Simon must’ve really scared him. “You two get some rest, we’ll be home later tonight.” Your mum smiles. Once they’ve left, the weight leaves your shoulders. “Fuck me, thank god.” You laugh. You start up the stairs and Simon follows you. “What did you say to him?”

“What are you talking about?” He asks. “Mike looked like he’d seen a damn ghost, you know exactly what I’m talking about. What’d you do to him?”

“Me? Say something to Mike? No way.” He smirks. He stretches back and his jacket raises and you can see his toned stomach, you have to turn away. Swallowing hard. “Liar.”

“I’m the Ghost he seen, darling. But you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Alright?” He forces you to look at him. Nodding your head. “Thank you Simon.”

“Nothing to it sweetheart.” He laughs. “Your parents probably think you’re going through a crisis. Did you see the way they looked at me all day?”

“Yeah. It’s just because you’re older.” You giggle, laying down on the bed. Simon throws himself down beside you. “First guy I’ve ever brought home and you’re almost as old as my dad.” You laugh. You freeze up as the words leave your mouth. “I- I mean-“

“No worries, your secret is safe with me.” He turns to look at you. “What?”

Simon chuckles. “I know that you’re a virgin Y/N.” You can feel your blood run cold. “What? How do you know that?”

Ghost laughs. “I can just tell.” You look down, blushing.

“Hey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He rolls onto his side, resting on his hand. “It’s actually kind’ve impressive. As pretty as you are I’m surprised nobody has scooped you up and married you yet.” He laughs.

“You think I’m pretty?” You look up at him.

He laughs. “Of course I do. What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought that much into it. I didn’t think I was that pretty.”

“So clearly you’ve never looked to a mirror.” He rolls his eyes. “Tough talk coming from you. I had no idea how handsome you were until you surprised me without a mask on.” You roll your eyes. “Oh? Handsome? Don’t let your panties get too wet.” he winks. Crimson creeps up your cheeks and you shake your head at him. “Shut up. You’re so full of yourself.” You roll your eyes. He laughs. “I’m kidding.”

Once the conversation has died down, you’ve nuzzled closer to him unintentionally.

“Y/N.” He speaks up out of the blue.

“Yeah?” You look at him. “There’s a way to make this easier yknow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean.. we’re faking it. Right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if we didn’t?”

You sit up, looking at him in confusion. The way your hair falls perfectly as you look at him, so beautiful when you’re confused. “I don’t think I understand.” You laugh. “What if we didn’t fake it?”

“Are.. are you saying that-“

“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You didn’t understand metaphors in person until those words left his lips and the earth stopped spinning. It feels like your blood freezes over in your veins. “I-“ you freeze up. He sits up. Taking your hand in his. “I know I’m throwing a lot at you right now. But I’ve felt this way about you for some time. I mean you had to have noticed me coming around you more right?”

“I.. I guess so. I just thought it was because… well I don’t know.” You blush, looking down. “I know a little bit more about you than I should.. and I know it’s wrong of me. You’re so young and I can’t ask you to give up your life for me.” He breathes. “How?”

“I did a little snooping. Through your social media. And.. your file.”

“My file? Like the one in our Captain’s office?”

He shrugs.

Heat pools between your legs, you’ve never been so attracted to anyone in your entire life. “You.. stole files to get to know me?” You look up at him. “Well when you put it that way it sounds like I’m a creep.”

“You are a creep. If you wanted to know you could’ve asked me.” You smirk. You’re clearly poking fun at him. “Yeah, doesn’t take a genius to see how perfectly innocent you are. You n your perfect unfucked pussy.”

Your mouth drops open and you shove him back. “I’m kidding- I’m kidding.” He laughs. “Watch your mouth, Riley. I might be a girl but I’ll still kick your ass.”

“I believe it. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He laughs.

“So what do you say?”

“You really want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask. He nods. “You’re not just saying that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not going to have sex with me and than dump me are you?”

He looks stunned by your question. “I might be an asshole but jeez. Have some faith in me.” He mumbles.

“Fine.” You laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Good, god I’ve been waiting for this.” He sits up, pressing his lips to yours immediately.

He pulls you back beside him, his lips not moving from yours until he feels he’s had enough. He pulls you closer into his side, tugging the blanket up over the both of you.

Simon almost never sleeps well. He spends most of his time awake, seeing nothing but darkness. But with the bedside lamp on, he can see you clearly. And he thinks you’re even more beautiful asleep.

He knows how stressful this has been for you. You never stopped tapping your foot once you left the airport. You never noticed him making an attempt to soothe you. Holding it still so that you would relax a little more. You briefly feel his fingertips gliding through your hair. You’re peaceful when you’re asleep. Nothing bad. You’re safe here, so long as Simon is around.

He only hopes you’ll want him around forever.

———

“Honey… is everything okay?” Your mum asks. Simon is still asleep, it’s early. You’re sitting down across from her at your table.

“What? Why?”

“Because.. Simon is so much older than you honey. You.. you don’t really expect this to go anywhere do you?”

You pause, looking up at her. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms. “Y/N… I’m not trying to be mean okay. It’s just.. men like Simon don’t want a relationship. They just want-“

You raise your hand up, stopping her.

“Don’t you dare categorize Simon.”

She sighs. “Y/N. You know that’s not what I mean. I just mean that men like Simon only have one thing on their mind.”

“Yeah? And that is?”

“You know exactly what I mean Y/N.”

“Sex? You think he’s only with me for sex?”

“Y/N… lower your voice.” She seethes.

“Yeah well if he only wanted me for sex he’d be long gone by now.” Her eyes widen.

“You’ve already slept with him? How long have you been together?”

“Couple weeks.” You shrug. She shakes her head. “I thought we raised you better than this.” You freeze, looking up at her and laughing. “I don’t even want to hear any of that considering you wouldn’t even side with your own daughter after Mike made a pass at me.”

“Not this again Y/N.”

“Yeah, not anymore. Because if he touches me again Simon is going to break his hand.”

She shakes her head. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I can make my own decisions. I mean for christ’s sake, I kill people for a living.” You scoff. “And for the record. Simon isn’t like other guys. I’ve watched him kill people for trying to hurt me.” You laugh, standing up. “I think we’ll probably be heading out first thing in the morning, this was clearly a mistake.” You make your way upstairs. “Maybe we won’t be here when you change your mind, when he hurts you.”

“You wouldn’t be there anyways.” You roll your eyes. You hear her leave through the front door. Her car starting.

You make your way upstairs. Simon sitting at the edge of the bed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Did you hear that?”

Simon nods his head. “I’m sorry Y/N.” He breathes. “Mike is a fucking creep and they’re fucked up for not believing you.”

“What? No. That’s- no.” You laugh. “I could care less about them believing me about Mike. It’s her shit talking you that drives me crazy. You’ve always been good to me and that’s wrong of her to say.”

Simon laughs. “I don’t exactly have the best rep Y/N. You should’ve known that before you started dating me.”

You turn to look at him, and the look in your eyes has his smile fading. “I… I’m sorry.” He scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Don’t be.” You mumble the words under your breath. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to offend you-“ you start toward him, kissing him hard. You push him back into the bed. “Woah- Y/N.” He pushes you up. “What are you doing?” He breathes. A gasp leaving his lips when you climb on top of him to straddle him. “Shit.” He grits his teeth. “Hey- listen. You aren’t thinking straight.” You look up at him, eyes dripping lust. “I’m thinking just fine.”

He grits his teeth as you rock your hips down into him. He quickly flips you over. “Y/N. You’re not ready for this.”

“Simon.” You’re breathless as you look up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for this, to be honest.”

He stares down at you. God he wants this, of course he does. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. That’s not him. He lowers himself down again, locking his lips with yours. Your heart is thumping in your chest and he can hear it. “Is this really where you want to do this?” He pulls away. You look around. Biting back a smirk. “I’ll take that as a yeah.” He shakes his head, standing up. The door doesn’t have a lock, so he puts a chair up in front of it. When he turns back you’ve already shed your shirt, and you’re working on your pants. He’s still wearing sweatpants.

“I don’t have anything..” he sighs. “It’s okay.” You nod.

He pushes you back, moving himself between your legs. “You trust me?” He asks. You nod your head. Looking up at him. “M’gonna try not to hurt you.” He breathes. “I want you to know that I’d never take advantage of you. If you don’t like anything at all, you tell me.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I know.”

He slides down the soft pajama pants you’ve got on. He tried so hard not to smother you the night before. He wants it all with you but knows not to move too fast, he doesn’t want to scare you off. He kisses you, moving lower down your body. Scattering kisses over your soft skin. Hearing you whine out as he moves down your chest. Over your stomach and onto your thighs. You lift your head, looking him in the eyes as he glides his tongue through your folds for the first time. The first time you’ve ever been touched by a man. Your eyes grow heavy, and you gasp. He sucks at your clit and watches you squirm as he tongues your clit. You try to clamp your thighs shut but he forces them open. Wanting you to get used to him touching you, relax you a little bit. He’s going to need you relaxed for when he enters you for the first time. He keeps it up for a few minutes until your thighs are shivering. You’re right on the edge but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

Pulling away just as he’s got you to the edge. Hearing you whine out.

You’re already sweaty and your legs are jello.

“Relax. You’re ready for me sweetheart.” He moves himself between your legs, kissing back up your stomach and chest. “You are so beautiful like this. So beautiful.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna fuck you now. Do you think you can handle it?” He asks. “Yes.” You answer fast. He pushes his sweats down to his mid thigh.

Just then, you hear the door close downstairs. “Shh. It’s alright.” He spits in his hand, gliding it over his cock. Slicking himself up as much as he can. Not wanting to hurt you any more than he has to. He holds your thighs open. Lining himself up with your entrance. He starts to slip between the folds of your pussy, your mouth popping open. He knows you’re about to cry out, clamping a hand over your mouth and burying himself the rest of the way inside of you. Sealing the deal.

This isn’t just casual anymore. You’re his now.

He lowers himself down. Still halted.

“You belong to me.”

You cry into his hand but he muffles it. He slides himself out of you and rocks his hips back into you. Feeling the wetness of your tears on his hand. “My god you are tight.” He breathes. Clenching his eyes shut. He rocks into you at a steady pace. A knock at the door has you going stiff and he rests his hand on your stomach. The other around your mouth still. He draws his hand away from your stomach, pressing his index finger over his lips. Shushing you.

“Y/N. We need to talk.”

It’s your dad.

Simon slowly draws his hand away from your mouth. Making sure you’ll be quiet. But he doesn’t stop his thrusts.

“Okay- I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Mike is here.”

Simon grits his teeth, shaking his head. “I said I’ll be down in a minute.”

Your dad sighs at the other end of the door. His footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

“Focus on me. M’gonna make you feel good baby.” He breathes.

He adjusts himself to be angled just right. Holding you still as he starts to rock himself into that one spot. Your mouth falls open the first time he brushes up against it. That spongy spot that’s so sensitive. “Cover your mouth darling. S’alright. Just relax.” He’s whispering. His voice so low you can barely hear it. You clamp your own hand on your mouth as he holds your hips steady, rocking into you. You’re barely keeping it together and that’s what he wants. He wants you to fall apart. He wants you on him. Clamping down around him. He wants to draw you in closer. You’re his and he wants to show you that. He holds you steady, keeping the same pace. He wants to be more rough but knows you aren’t quite ready for that. He moves your hand away from your mouth to kiss you. His lips move against yours sloppily and you notice his thrusts are a little sloppy as well. He’s getting close, but so are you. The unfamiliar feelings of a knot builds in your lower belly.

His teeth latch onto your bottom lip. Pulling it between his teeth and sucking at it. Your whines egg him on. Pulling him into you. He’s addicted.

“Simon… I’m really close.” You whine. Your voice is low and he knows nobody can hear you. Thank god, they don’t deserve to hear such angelic noises. You’re good. You’re the perfect amount of good Simon needs in his dark life. You make him better. His cock throbs hard inside of you. He grits his teeth. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle with me. I can take it.” You breathe, looking up at him. He laughs. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into baby.”

“I think I do.”

Simon lifts you up, laying you down on the floor, if they’re downstairs, they’ll hear the bed creaking. He pushes your legs up, and starts his bruising pace. Fucking into you like it’ll be the last time. Your eyes widen, but he clamps a hand over your mouth. “You wanted this. You can take it.” He growls. Your eyes roll back and you fall apart. Throbbing around him as you reach your high. You’re clamping down around him tightly and he can barely keep himself together. Of all of the people you thought you might lost your virginity to, Ghost was never one of them.

He takes one last hard thrust, jawline clenching up as he grits his teeth. His eyes screw shut and you realize that’s he’s just finished inside of you. Your eyes widen as you feel his warmth filling you.

He relaxes himself into you.

“Fuck- m’sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking I just couldn’t stop myself.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You look up at him. You’re mesmerized by him.

He laughs, letting his head hang. “You can’t look at me like that. I won’t let you walk away.” He laughs.

You let your head rest against the floor. “You have to go with me.”

“I wouldn’t let you go down there alone. Not with that prick down there.” Simon growls. Sliding out of you. You gasp out as he does.

You redress yourselves, Simon letting you borrow one of his hoodies. A way to assert dominance, but you didn’t need to know that.

You make your way downstairs and he follows close behind. “What’s going on?” You ask.

“Mike wanted to apologize.”

Simon grips your hand in his. Pulling you closer. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry Y/N.” You swallow hard. Your mum and dad look guilty. “We have to apologize too. For not believing you.” Your dad speaks up. “I don’t forgive you. Not any of you.” You breathe. “We’re heading out first thing in the morning and I won’t be back until I’m ready to.”

You pull Simon along, out the front door.

“How about I show you around? Where I grew up.” He smiles. “Course.” He smiles. Following you down the drive of your parents’ house. “You’ll have to show me where you grew up sometime.” You smile. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to darling.” He laughs. “You’re a strong girl you know that?” He opens up the car door for you. “I don’t know.”

“M’serious. You’re brave and strong. They don’t deserve a girl like you.”

You smile.

“So what does that tell you?” You ask. He moves closer. “I don’t know.” His lips ghost over yours.

“Don’t fuck it up, Riley.”

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞? — 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒋𝒐. ˒ ⊹

gojo pleads for your forgiveness the only way he knows how: making his baby feel good ♡

cw fem!reader / pet names used; baby, babydoll, princess, sweet girl / fingering / big dick gojo </3 / a crumb of unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!!) / groping / just a quick little drabble to get back into the swing of things :3 NSFW CONTENT AHEAD, MINORS DNI

love, oak! hiiiiiii....... been awhile since i've posted any writing........... i've kind of been in the trenches w/ writers block !! and lowkey, i still am u_u. the only way i've been working through it is by writing little gifts for mooties !! lex, if u see this, yes this is one i've sent to u HAHAHA

"baby, you're really hurtin' my feelings here."

"hmph."

satoru frowns, pulling you further onto his lap. his broad hands cup the fat of your ass, teasingly squeezing. you bat at his shoulders and pout up at him.

"c'mon, baby," he coos. "what did 'toru do this time?

huffing, you turn your head away from him.

satoru clicks his tongue. "okay, if my baby won't talk to me, i'll just apologize in a different way. how's that sound?" he accompanies his words with a sinful roll of his hips, the bulge of his cock pressing against the thin fabric of your panties.

(satoru just loves when you wear skirts; not only do you look so cute in them, but the easy access is just such a bonus!)

"'toru," you hiss, hands clamping on his shoulders, you try to push him away to no avail - his grip on you is unforgiving and relentless. his hands grip your ass, pushing and pulling you against his hard-on to his whims. his slacks and your panties were the only barriers left and satoru was quite keen on getting rid of them.

"c'mon, babydoll," satoru grins at you, boyishly charming. "let me make you feel good. toru'll make it all feel better, yeah?"

disarmed by his sweet smile, or perhaps the way his blue eyes glimmer with want as he watches you keenly, you seem to crumble in his arms. just like that, you're putty in his hands, no longer fighting him as he pulls your panties to the side.

"m'kay," you sigh, running your hands over the hard plane of his chest. "you promise?"

"i promise."

he gives your ass another squeeze before he trails his hand along your hips, then down to the apex of your hips. he drags a calloused finger along your wet heat, circling your clit teasingly before he brings it lower and dips it into your hole.

you inhale sharply as he fingers you slowly, achingly, pulling you to the precipice but not quite letting you fall over. he only lets this go on for a little bit, at least until you're crying and begging for him to fill you up.

"alright princess, i won't tease you too much. c'mere, give me a kiss?"

and you obey, lips slotting to his in a messy kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth as you hear the telltale sound of a zipper being undone, fabric rustling as he pushes his boxers and slacks down just enough to free his cock.

he nips at your lower lip as he guides you to raise your hips. satoru's dick errs the side of too big; that's why he has to make sure you're soaking wet and ready to take him. so he pulls away only momentarily to smile up at you before he spits in his hand and fists his cock - he's sure you're wet enough to take him, but he likes to be thorough.

once he's satisfied, he guides the leaking tip of his cock through your sticky folds, slick with desire and aching all just for him. and when you're clawing at his shoulders, begging for him to just fuck you already, he chuckles deeply and finally, finally, he sinks into you.

and just like always, it feels world-shattering. he fills you up just right, pleasure erring just on the right side of pain as he stretches you out, pelvis flush to the apex of your thighs as he holds you there, letting you adjust.

you sniffle, looking up at satoru with that doe-eyed stare that he just can't get enough of. the thought that only you can feel satoru in this way - the only person he'll ever let feel him this way, you think - is enough to make the coil in your gut twist further. he raises an eyebrow at you, pressing kisses to your eyelids, kissing away the tears of pleasure that gather there.

"i haven't even started moving you yet, sweet girl. you're clenchin' so nicely around me. feel good? do you forgive me yet?"

"mhm," you sigh out, rocking your hips. his broad hands hold you steady, not allowing for much movement. when you nod your head up at him, pouting with those kiss-bruised lips of yours, he can't help but grin further and press his lips to yours again.

satoru is sure to make you feel him in every way possible; after all, it's the only proper way to earn your forgiveness ♡.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !! @houseofsolisoccasum + @interstellar-inn

[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THEY ENTERTAIN ANOTHER WOMAN FOR TOO LONG

synopsis: instead of them being jealous, this time you are because of their attention being focused on someone else 🤧

characters: zoro, luffy & sanji!

warnings: female terms used in zoro's & sanji's <3, nicknames + swearing, angst for sanji

mei's note: my previous post had an accidental angsty ending for luffy so i'll be posting a happy one soon! <3

⟶ @ahseyy request: ... And i have this idea 🤧 we had that the OP boys are jealous, sooooo obviously we need that Yn is jealous! ...

☆ "they're just friends!" usopp's words kept ringing in your mind as you stare at ZORO and his ex-girlfriend.. you and the rest of the strawhat crew had stopped sailing, planning to settle a bit on the island you came across. oh, how you deeply regret telling luffy that "this seems like a good place for us to stay in and regain our energy!" now you're stuck witnessing this situation play out, having you completely engrossed in it.

☆ usopp, having a sixth sense for drama, immediately noticed the lack of your presence as a result of you spying observing zoro and his ex.

☆ "are you done spying on your boyfriend?" he chuckles seeing your startled expression. "i'm not spying on him! i'm just-" you see her playfully slap his bicep, earning a displeased look on your face. "why is he even speaking to her for so long? it's not like they left at the best terms.." you blurt out, sighing after seeing usopp's sly smirk.

☆ you know he thinks you're an obsessively jealous person, but you can't find it in you to care because there she goes touching him again! the worst of it all is that zoro doesn't seem to be bothered by it.. your eyebrows furrow as you keep witnessing them smiling way too much, standing way too close, being way too touchy, and the worst of all; they're talking way too soft for you to eavesdrop!

"that's it, i'm going over there!" you utter annoyed, dropping the mop you were holding for the past 15 minutes, having made little to no progress at cleaning the ship's floor. usopp, taken aback, dashes to stand in front of you, blocking the exit of the ship. "are you out of your mind? don't you understand you'll be labeled as the most controlling girlfriend ever?! just- sit this confrontation out alright?" he let's out a sigh of relief, feeling he prevented a major fight to go down, not only between you and zoro, but possibly also between you and zoro's ex..

usopp was right, you know he was, but you couldn't bother thinking straight while you were still seeing that woman being handsy with your man. fuming, you gaze at the two, loathing the almost non-existent space there was between them. "i'm so done," you mutter upset. "please take over cleaning for me today, usopp.." you left to your room and plopped down on your bed, trying to put all your intrusive thoughts to rest.

but of course you couldn't after having seen that interaction between the two. were you exaggerating? was this normal? is it wrong for you to feel this way? this fuming feeling is causing you so much distress. it's like your thoughts are eating you up from the inside. you don't want to feel this way, like you're the one at fault, like you're not enough, like you'll never be enough.. right after that thought crept up out of the darkest pits of your brain, you heard a knock on your, now locked, bedroom door. "baby? you alright?.. why's the door locked-? baby?" you recognize zoro's voice immediately, mentally being stuck between picking the easy choice: ignoring him and bottling up your feelings, or the hard one: facing him and talk to him about your current thoughts..

unbeknownst to you, you unconsciously chose the former option. you open the door and look him in his eyes, hiding as much of your feelings possible. "what?" he furrows his brows, confused by your cold welcome before he remembers usopp warning him you weren't in a good mood because of his overfriendly encounter with his ex. "is this about her?" he chuckles before shaking his head slightly, in disbelief you'd be this bothered by someone from his past. "so what if it is?! is it so weird for me to be upset some woman is being all handsy with you?! and is it suprising that i got bothered even more by you not minding her touching you? is it that weird, zoro? 'cause if it is, please, do tell me!" you blurt out, almost all in one breath, before slamming the door shut.

you weren't planning on letting it out, you didn't want to bother, assuming he'd just brush it off as you exaggerating.. you didn't expect him to open the door you aggressively slammed in his face, so soon. you didn't expect him to, when he saw you leant on the wall with furrowed brows and a trembling upper lip, grab you by the waist and pull you closer to him, so close there was barely anything between you at all.. and least of all did you expect him to grab your chin, raising it so you looked him in the eyes while he told you "if i gave one shit about her, would i be here right now? tell me, if i didn't care about you at all, then why would i tell her i'm not interested in getting back together with her when she asked? why would i tell her i finally found someone that i want to spend the rest of my life with? shit, as cheesy as it sounds, it's true, baby.. i can't imagine being with anyone else except you. so please, don't you get jealous about girls i don't give a damn about."

you send him a soft smile, leaning your forehead on him. "don' know who told you i was jealous.. but you got to get better sources 'cause i for sure wasn't jealous.." zoro scoffs letting out a "yeah, right."

☆ needless to say you two made up and cuddled for the rest of the day.

☆ that would be the end.. but of course usopp had to bug you.. "hey! i took over your cleaning today, so you better take over mine for the next week.." usopp pleaded, with both his hands on his hips. "out." zoro mumbled into your neck, expecting him to comply instantly. "but-!" usopp began to bicker, before getting interrupted by zoro. "now." you accidentally let out a giggle, swiftly moving your hand to cover your mouth right after. "whatever! i will be back, considering this debt!" with that usopp leaves the room, leaving you two alone, enjoying the comfortable silence.

☆ SANJI is a womanizer, that's no shocking discovery. you've know about this fact since the moment you met him. he was charming you up while asking everyone's drinks and then he went off, flirting with another woman on his way back to the kitchen. that moment you learned that this was sanji. but there's also the caring sanji that'd make you a warm soup when you're sick, tending to your needs yet still somehow find away to make you blush whilst laughing with him. in addition to the caring sanji, there also is the determined sanji; whenever he'd speak about finding the all blue, and all the meals he would cook, all the different fish he would see, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening with adoration and resolve. further, intellectual sanji heavily plays a role in your daily life; happily helping you with mundane chores to the most exciting adventures you and your fellow strawhats go on. he fills you in on books he's read, food he's cooked, ingredients he's used, products he's bought and much more!

☆ you could go on and on, daydreaming of all sanji's positive personality traits, but you're all time favorite would have to be considerate sanji.. the way he could immediately sense from you that you weren't feeling like your usual self still amazes you. how he always chooses the right moments to bring you a freshly brewed cup of tea with your favorite desert right next to it, which you have know idea how he had the time nor ingredients for. how he treats you like a princes and tells you how much you mean to him in so many different ways when you feel absolutely miserable. and, oh, how he always knows when to embrace you tightly and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, until it becomes numb.

☆ so with all that, you accepted him being a womanizer, having the seemingly perpetuous habits of bantering with other women. you always wondered if he'd stop flirting with so many women if you asked him to.. but then the thought that you two were nothing and wouldn't be anything else than friends hit you.

☆ nevertheless, seeing his cheeky smile being sent to some random woman, seeing him subtly sling his arm around her waist as he guids her to the dance floor, seeing him lean closer to her every minute, it was killing you, no more like slowly scraping you from the inside, the bottled up pain waiting for you to finally burst open.

you've been eyeing them the whole night, not once taking your eyes off of them or bothering to answer usopp's rants with more than a 'mhm,' or a 'hmm'. "have you listened to a word i said?!" usopp voiced suddenly, turning the strawhats' complete attention to you. "mhm.." absent-minded, you nod hearing him say something, but not comprehending the words he spoke.

"see, told you she wasn't paying attention," usopp leaned back against his seat after pulling up his shoulders, indicating he was right about you not paying attention to what anyone was saying. zoro, being the one seated next to you, tapped your shoulder, earning a "hm?" from you. getting annoyed by your negligence, he shifted his gaze to the direction you were looking in, finally understanding what the issue was.

to clarify your absent-mindness, zoro nudged his head towards sanji and his date. his date, who was sat on his lap at this point, making the knot in your stomach grow substantially. seeing his arm wrap around her hips as she leaned on him was your final stroke, your last straw. it was your breaking point.. you've reached, no, you've long surpassed your limit for these shenanigans, but right now, this very moment you finally break.

you suddenly feel a rush of tears burn your eyes, overwhelmed with your thoughts and emotional distress. you jump up, hurriedly leaving the club room you were in, not wanting anyone to see you in your current state. you desperately search for a private area where you can cry yourself out of this situation without having people judge you. but you notice the whole place is packed with couples who can't keep their hands off of each other, except the balcony, so you shakingly make your way to the cold space.

all of a sudden, you hear someone's heavy breathing behind you. "darling? what's the matter? what happened?!" sanji. he asks you breathlessly, due to him running after you. you quickly tried to wipe your tears away, but they kept coming! making you feel even more hysterical. "hey, hey now -" sanji notices your crying, he turns you around, his arms moving from your arms down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "talk to me, sweetheart.. please, just talk to me.." he pleads, moving his face closer to yours.

"i- i can't- do- it!" you babbled in-between sobs. "what, darling? who did this to you?" sanji moves his hands to your cheeks, pulling your face to his, carefully. "you..! you're killing me!" he furrows his brows in confusion. once you calmed down, you slowly tore one of his hands off your face. "i can't keep seeing you with others, sanji.. it really fucking hurts! i- i just can't-" you push him away a little, "i can't keep bottling it up sanji.. i'm done.."

☆ he didn't even mean to.. he was just being friendly, he was cracking jokes, making sure she was feeling calm and at peace, he asked sanji to get her something to snack, he was being luffy..

☆ normally, you'd swoon over him whenever he'd be in this caring mood of his. but not this time, no. this time, you were close to glowing green out of envy. you shouldn't be feeling this way, you know that. you trust luffy with your everything! it just hits you in the wrong place whenever he leans towards her when she speaks. it's like you can feel your heart cramp up each time she looks up at him and smiles, receiving his usual toothy grin in return.

☆ she was lost, abandoned at sea by her very own family. at least that's the bit you picked from usopp dramatically narrating her lifestory. is it heartless that all you could think of was that you hoped, the strawhats and you would drop her off at the very next island, wish her luck with her life, and continue your journeys? knowing luffy, that's the last thing that would happen. no, it's not even on the list of things he would ever consider! your thoughts made you feel absolutely terrible. you weren't a bad person, so why were you being so uncaring towards this poor girl who had lost so much? envy. jealousy can bring out the absolute worst in people. the lowest of a person's nature gets drawn out someone. and that someone now, was you.

you tried to stay away from her, not wanting to accidentally lash out. you felt bad for her, you did, but you also how far you could go, when jealousy takes apart in decision-making. so you avoid her, and just like that, you were also avoiding luffy. because for some reason, he was always near her, always. it's like he was scared she'd run away?

luffy noticed. but he didn't know the reason you were avoiding her. he's always optimistic and cheerful, so everyone expects him to always be exactly that, except you. you were there for him, allowing him to have bad days. he didn't have to hide his feelings or emotions. it was a relief for him to find someone like you, someone he lived so dearly, who lived him back just as much. it was refreshing, calming, delightful. what happened? what did he do? was he too much? or did he do too little to show you he cares so much, that he'd give you the world if you asked for it. he'd go to the moon and back for you. he doesn't know how, but he'd find a way. and now he lost you? that can't be true. it can't. he won't accept it!

that's how you got in your current situation; his face was buried in the crook of your neck, his hands holding you tightly by your waist, mumbling something about how good you smell.

you had told him the reason you were avoiding was because of your sudden jealousy. he laughed for a good 10 minutes about how ridiculous you were to think of something like that! but in his mind, oh, how relieved he was that you weren't avoiding him because you fell out of love with him. it was because you were too in love with him..

☆ you two ended up having a picnic on deck, trying to keep usopp and chopper away from your neatly set up meals prepared by sanji (duh)

☆ luffy kept teasing you about how jealous you were and that you love him too much for your own good. acting like he wasn't on the verge of being a crying mess because he thought he lost you 🙄

☆ he kept giving you nose tip smooches while telling you you'll never lose him <3

MEI'S NOTE: so, uhm yeah sanji's part was definitely something...

... hope you enjoyed!! <3

[thef1diary]

While It Lasts | L. Norris - 1

Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.

Part 2

PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.

a hugeee thank you to @chilling-seavey @thefourthln @faithshouseofchaos for proofreading this and constantly reassuring me that this isn’t shit 😭 I wouldn’t have posted this fic without your support 🫶🏻

pairing: lando x fem!reader

wc: 15.9k (because tumblr won't let me post the whole thing at once)

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

“C’mon, you’re gonna love it there,” Lando attempted to persuade his best friend. 

Max Fewtrell rolled his eyes, asking incredulously, “mate, are you seriously considering taking us to a small town over partying all day, everyday in the city?”

Lando shrugged, holding his finger up for a moment, asking him to wait while he scrolled through his phone to find the photos that Carlos sent him earlier. “It’s not just a small town, look at this.” He turned the phone around to show his best friend the photos of their potential home for the next two weeks. 

Max scoffed, still not believing that Lando was changing their pre-made plans at the last minute, “and why would Carlos just give you the keys to that villa looking thing?” 

“It’s his uncle’s vacation home, and it’ll be empty if we don’t go. You don’t want to leave this beauty empty, do you?” 

Max sighed, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics. As soon as he saw the photos, he was convinced to discard the previous plans and take the opportunity to live in that home, but of course he wouldn’t admit it straightaway. 

“Show me the photos again,” he simply muttered, earning a laugh from Lando as he swiped through the pictures. 

“There’s literally only one other house nearby, we won’t get that in the city now, would we?” Lando commented, watching the cogs turning in Max’s mind. 

Despite Max's initial reluctance, Lando could see the spark of curiosity flickering in his friend's eyes as he examined the photos. He knew he was close to winning Max over.

"So, what do you say, Max? Are you in?" Lando pressed, a hopeful tone in his voice.

Max hesitated for a moment, weighing his options before finally letting out a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine, you win. Let's give this small town adventure a shot," he conceded, unable to resist the allure of the stunning villa.

Lando grinned triumphantly. "Trust me, mate, you won't regret it," he assured him, clapping him on the back.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see about that. When are we leaving?” He asked instead, still not wanting to get his hopes up in case he would be left disappointed. 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” Max asked, eyes widening when Lando nodded. 

“Go pack your bags, mate,” Lando shoved him with full force once he noticed Max wasn’t leaving the room.

He laughed when Max finally regained his sense of motion and scrambled out the room, muttering to himself while packing everything he thought he needed for the next two weeks. Despite having a habit of travelling, it wasn’t any less stressful to pack, especially with a short notice.  

Lando sighed and leaned back into his chair, holding up his phone in front of him. He admired the picturesque view of the villa in the photos, containing his excitement because he would be able to see the same view in person soon enough. 

Perhaps this was what he needed, especially after the stress that continued to build up over the first half of the season. While he had a better start to the season than he was used to, it didn’t ease any pressure. He was constantly thinking about what he can do as a driver to improve the car while having to face the media at every race weekend and answering the same question over and over again. It was too much for him to handle. 

It was part of the reason why he was adamant on convincing Max to take a break in a place where they wouldn’t be seen as much as they usually do in Monaco. It would give him a chance of exploring a new town while also staying under the radar. 

When Carlos first suggested the idea, Lando instantly agreed. The promise of two weeks of relaxation and exploration ahead sounded like a dream to him. Lando couldn't wait to leave the pressures of the racing world behind and immerse himself in the beauty of the coastal town. Little did he know, amidst the winding streets and sun-kissed beaches, he would find more than just a temporary escape.

— 

As the taxi pulled up to the gates, the driver turned to them with a grin. "Here we are, gentlemen. Enjoy your stay," he announced, gesturing towards the grand entrance of the villa. 

Max and Lando exchanged glances, eager to explore the town. They thanked the driver before stepping out of the taxi, and their eyes widened in awe at the sight of their temporary abode. The grand villa stood just up ahead of them, its white walls gleaming in the golden light of the setting sun. The only barrier slightly obstructing their view were the large steel gates, shut to prevent any trespassers. 

"Whoa!" Max exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.

Lando nodded in agreement, already reaching for his phone to capture the moment. "This place is insane," he remarked, snapping a quick selfie, giving a cheesy smile while holding up his thumb with the villa in the background.

Max chuckled, watching as Lando posed for the photo. "Gonna send that to Carlos?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Lando nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Yep, just to make him jealous," he replied, tapping away at his phone before sending the selfie to Carlos with a playful message: ‘You’re missing out!’

“Where’s he anyways?” Max asked but his gaze never left the sight in front of him. 

Lando’s thumbs moved across the screen as he typed out another message, possibly replying to Carlos who always texted back within minutes. 

Moments later, he turned the phone to show the screen to Max. Carlos had responded to Lando’s selfie with one of his own, showing off the view he was enjoying in the background. A pair of blue goggles covered his eyes and he held his thumb up in a playful manner as well. It was evident that he was standing on a yacht, surrounded by a form of nature in its entirety. 

“Guess he’s not exactly missing out. When is he not on a boat?” Max asked jokingly. 

Lando shrugged, “when he’s not cycling I guess.” 

When he turned the screen back towards him, he noticed another text from Carlos. ‘Don’t break anything’

He scoffed, shaking his head before pocketing his phone, ignoring his message. He was mature enough to know that, even if a few broken trophies claimed otherwise. 

The taxi drove off, leaving the men standing with their luggages in front of the gate. The breeze passed through Lando’s curls, causing him to turn around and squint his eyes to look up at the leaves on the trees swaying around. The setting sun pierced his eyes, but his gaze didn’t waver from it, a smile growing on his face since he already began liking the peaceful environment. 

“Mate,” Max’s voice broke the silence. When Lando looked at him expectantly, he gestured towards the gates. “Are we just here to look at it from outside or do you know the code to get in?”

Lando’s eyes widened, “oh yeah, Carlos told me the code, hold on.” He fumbled for his phone, quickly locating the message from Carlos with the access code. 

Before he could punch in the code, the sound of a car door slamming loudly took their attention away from the villa. 

Max and Lando simultaneously spotted another home further down the street across from theirs, the only one apart from the villa for miles. It stood in stark contrast, a quaint cottage nestled amidst a grove of cherry blossom trees. It looked smaller, but they knew not to be fooled, knowing the cottage only appeared smaller since it was further away. 

"Looks like we've got neighbors," Lando remarked, pointing towards the distant cottage. 

“So much for silence,” Max mumbled. 

As soon as Max’s words were spoken out loud, their attention shifted to the cause of the sound; you. 

Unlike Lando and Max, your day hadn’t been going well. Actually, you don’t believe that you’ve experienced a single good day in the past couple years; not since the day you received your reports. 

You remember that day vividly, the memories playing out in your mind like a horror movie. Despite many efforts from your close friends and family to cheer you up, you don’t believe that any smile you’ve given was genuine. Not a single one. 

You shut your eyes tightly, but it only intensified the memories, causing you to find a way to shift your attention. Your gaze was attracted to the sun that was moments away from slipping underneath the horizon. 

Contrasting to Lando’s thoughts from earlier, who smiled at the sunset because watching it cemented the fact that he was away from the chaos in cities and his world of racing, you thought of the guarantee that the sun will rise again tomorrow, one certainty you never had about yourself. 

Once you slammed the car door shut, a surge of frustration and anger coursed through you, making your brother, Isaac, who was also getting out of the car, wince in discomfort. It was his car, after all, and you knew you shouldn't take your frustrations out on one of his most prized possessions, but the weight of your own mortality pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Another visit to the hospital had left you feeling drained and defeated, the latest round of test results delivering yet another blow to your already fragile health. The doctors' words echoed in your mind, their somber tones a stark reminder of the grim reality you faced.

You were angry – angry at the world for dealing you such a terrible fate, angry at your own body for betraying you, angry at the uncertainty that loomed over your future like a dark cloud. Would you live another day, another year, or was each moment you spent on this earth merely borrowed time?

Your hands trembled with a mixture of fear and frustration as you struggled to make sense of it all. You’ve been in this situation multiple times over the past couple years, wondering why the doctors always gave you a false sense of hope until the facts proved otherwise, but every time still felt like the first. Your illness was something you could never wrap your head around. The questions swirled in your mind, unanswered and unanswerable, leaving you feeling helpless and alone.

As you leaned against the car, your breath coming in ragged gasps, you felt a sense of despair wash over you. The world seemed cruel and indifferent, its vastness stretching out before you like an endless void.

Despite looking at the sun until it made your eyes water, or perhaps those were just your tears caused by your anger turning into sadness, your mind was still filled with all sorts of thoughts while your heart held various emotions. 

The one thing that did divert your mind was the sound of rackety steel gates opening further down the street. Those gates hadn’t been open in about a year, making it in desperate need of oil on the hinges. 

You remembered the family that visited very often once upon a time—the Sainz family—but those visits became less and less frequent as the years went by. 

However, once you heard laughter echoing down the street, you couldn’t place a name to the sound. You squinted your eyes to focus on the scene since you had forgotten your glasses inside your home. Your eyesight was one of the first things that started deteriorating, making it hard to believe that you once had perfect vision.

You could make out the shape of two men, seemingly young and nowhere near a part of the family that owned the villa. 

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the villa, knowing it was time to spend a quiet night in. The sun had long gone beneath the horizon, turning the orange skies into hues of blue as you made your way towards your small cottage.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee from the early morning hours before you rushed to the hospital. The unmistakable scent of antiseptics mixed with coffee, a reminder that your home was slowly becoming similar to the emergency rooms. 

Your brother hovered nearby, his expression etched with concern as he watched you sink into a worn armchair. He had moved in once your health didn’t show any signs of improvement, taking on the older brother role even if he was a few years younger. 

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, his voice filled with worry.

You nodded, forcing a weak smile as you tried to push aside the weight of your own fears. "I'm fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

But deep down, you knew the truth. You were anything but fine. The uncertainty of your future loomed over you like a dark cloud, threatening to consume you whole.

“Do you need anything before I make dinner?” He stood in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. 

The mention of dinner made you look up at him, shifting in the armchair as you prepared to stand up. His hands instantly shot out in case you stumbled over your feet. 

“Let me help you make dinner,” you spoke, placing your hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself. 

He began shaking his head but your eyes pleaded with him. 

“Please, I’m not completely useless yet,” You added, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to deny you since it was a trick you used when you were both younger. 

He sighed, wanting to tell you that you weren’t useless at all, but it would open another can of worms. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he settled instead. 

You firmly nodded, and threaded your arm around his as he led you to the kitchen. He knew that he shouldn’t have let you help, especially after an appointment, but he also knew that if he left you alone, your thoughts would drown you. 

All you needed was company, and he was more than willing to do anything to help you especially since he felt helpless otherwise. 

The rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the air as you and Isaac worked together in the kitchen. He hovered nearby, his presence a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your struggle.

"Need any help with that?" he asked, gesturing towards the cutting board where you were slicing tomatoes with unsteady hands.

You shook your head, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. "I've got it, thanks."

But he could see through your facade, his eyes filled with concern as he watched you work. "Are you sure? You seem a bit off today." 

He had made it his responsibility to take you to your appointments, and he noticed that your mood deflated even more than the last visit.

You forced a smile, hoping to alleviate his worries. "I'm fine, just tired from the hospital visit."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he moved closer, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'm here for you, okay?"

You nodded, grateful for his support. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

As you continued to cook together, the tension in the air eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of sibling banter and shared laughter. 

“Oh, did you see our new neighbours?” You asked once you sat down to eat. 

Your brother nodded, a muffled sound leaving his mouth since he was in the midst of chewing. 

Your face twisted in disgust, “ew, eat your food, don’t show it.” He playfully smacked your arm before swallowing and you had to hide the wince that almost overtook your expressions. You rubbed your arm once he was distracted, already knowing that it’ll bruise even if the smack was light. 

“As I was saying,” he glared at you for a brief moment before continuing, “I noticed them coming in.” 

“How long do you think they’re gonna stay?” 

He added, making you shrug, “no idea, a couple weeks?” 

Meanwhile, down the street, Max and Lando were immediately struck by the grandeur inside the villa. They had already explored the surroundings outside while the sun was setting, and were greeted by a scene of serene beauty and tranquility. 

The sprawling grounds stretched out before them, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Lush greenery enveloped the landscape, with meticulously landscaped gardens and manicured lawns spreading out in all directions.

Tall palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind. Vibrant bursts of color from exotic flowers and fragrant blossoms added splashes of brightness to the landscape, while the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and lavender hung in the air.

A cobblestone pathway wound its way through the gardens, meandering past secluded alcoves and hidden nooks waiting to be explored. Stone benches and wrought iron chairs provided inviting spots to sit and enjoy the beauty of nature, while the soothing sound of a trickling fountain added a sense of serenity to the atmosphere.

In the distance, the shimmering surface of a swimming pool caught the last rays of sunlight, beckoning with promises of cool refreshment on a warm summer's day. Beyond the pool, a charming gazebo nestled amidst a grove of trees offered a secluded retreat, its elegant structure inviting relaxation and contemplation.

Inside the villa, Max and Lando found themselves immersed in a world of luxury and refinement. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, their polished surfaces reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The air was infused with the scent of subtle hints of vanilla and sandalwood, creating an atmosphere of opulence.

Plush furnishings adorned with rich fabrics and intricate patterns beckoned invitingly, promising comfort and relaxation. Oversized sofas and armchairs offered sumptuous seating, their cushions plump and inviting, while ornate coffee tables and sideboards showcased exquisite craftsmanship and timeless elegance.

Large windows framed breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside, their sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze. Soft, ambient lighting cast warm pools of light in every corner, creating a sense of coziness and intimacy that enveloped the space.

Throughout the villa, works of art adorned the walls, adding a touch of sophistication and culture to the elegant surroundings. Paintings and sculptures, each one a masterpiece in its own right, spoke of a life of privilege and refinement, while delicate vases filled with fresh flowers added a touch of natural beauty to the lavish interiors.

In every room, from the grand foyer to the luxurious bedrooms and bathrooms, attention to detail was evident at every turn. From the intricate carvings on the furniture to the delicate lace trim on the curtains, no expense had been spared in creating a sanctuary of unparalleled beauty and comfort.

As Max and Lando explored the villa, they couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and awe at the sheer magnificence of their surroundings. For a moment, they forgot about the outside world, lost in the splendor of their temporary home and the promise of adventure that lay ahead.

While Max’s gaze wandered around in amazement, Lando nudged him with a mischievous smile of his own. “Told ya it’ll be worth it.” 

He rolled his eyes but still agreed, “yeah I guess it is.” 

Then, Max bursted into a sprint, running up the stairs while yelling loudly, “I get first pick!” 

Lando shook his head, disagreeing immediately while chasing behind him. After all, they were two men who were kids at heart that were given a huge home all for themselves. 

The next morning dawned bright and clear, filling the villa with a warm golden light that spilled through the windows and danced across the marble floors. 

Lando had been awake for the past couple hours, his internal clock still set to his racing routine. He had woken up to the melody of birds chirping away and light filtering through the sheer curtains, basking for a moment in the change of scenery. 

He had gone for a morning run, relishing the fresh air and serene beauty of the surroundings. On the way back, he picked up some pastries from a local bakery, their aroma enticing and warm. 

Returning to the villa, Lando hummed a tune as he walked towards the kitchen. He paused for a moment, his eyes widening at the amount of natural light coming in through the big windows. The morning sun added a fresh, beautiful touch to the villa, reflecting off the furniture and transforming the space. 

As he placed the pastries on the kitchen counter, Max emerged from his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking in the sight of the sun-drenched villa. “Morning, mate,” he greeted, his voice still laced with traces of sleep. 

“Morning, Max,” Lando replied, holding back a chuckle at his messy morning hair. 

He was lured by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries. 

“Mm, smells amazing but where did these come from?” He asked before popping a pastry in his mouth. His eyes closed as it melted in his mouth, savouring the taste for a moment. 

Lando grinned, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Glad you like them, I picked them up on my morning run,” he admitted. 

Max raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You went for a run?” he asked, his tone filled with amusement. 

Lando nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, figured I’d explore the area a bit and see what’s around,” he explained. 

The first thing Lando did when he laid in bed last night was bring out his phone to search for things to do in this small town. Unfortunately, the internet wasn’t much help, so he decided to take a look around by himself, and perhaps even ask a few locals for advice. 

Then he ducked his head and rubbed his palm on the nape of his neck, “and Jon told me to keep training while we’re here.” 

Max chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, thanks for bringing back breakfast,” he added, reaching for another pastry. 

Lando picked up one for himself. “Yeah, no problem, but don’t expect it everyday,” he said with a cheeky smile. Max rolled his eyes, ignoring his comment as he sipped on his coffee. 

“What are you planning on doing today?” Max asked after a moment of silence. 

“I saw this market on my run earlier, and was thinking of going to go check it out,” he hummed, thinking back to the beautiful scenery during his short cardio session. 

Max laughed, “look at you, living the small town life already.” 

Lando reached over to smack the pastry out of Max’s hand that he was about to eat. “Hey!” He exclaimed, looking at the fallen treat. 

There was a beat of silence, before Max and Lando made eye contact and then they bursted out into giggles. Amidst their laughter, Max reached down to pick up the fallen pastry, dusting it off before stuffing it in his mouth. 

“Five-second rule, mate,” he muffled. 

“What are you gonna do?” Lando asked, ignoring his best friend’s antics.

He simply shrugged, “I don’t know, mate.” 

“Wanna join me?” Lando suggested, earning a nod from Max, a teasing smile growing on his face. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

Lando rolled his eyes, “you don’t have to wait for me to ask.” 

With their breakfast antics over, Lando and Max quickly finished their coffee before deciding to venture out into the town. As they stepped outside, the warm rays of the sun enveloped them, casting a golden glow over the quaint streets. 

The scorching sun bore down upon them, turning the cobblestones into radiant paths of heat. Lando and Max, feeling the intensity of the sun’s rays, walked with beads of sweat forming on their brows. 

Max shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand since he had misplaced his sunglasses. 

Once they were a couple minutes into the walk, they realized that the market they planned to visit was further away than they initially thought. The narrow streets, lined with colourful houses and blooming flowers, stretched out before them, inviting them on a leisurely stroll. 

“Why are we walking?” Max asked, still holding his hand up for a shade. 

Lando raised his own sunglasses to the top of his head in disbelief, “why don’t you have your sunglasses?” 

“Forgot ‘em at the villa,” he grumbled, which only made Lando laugh louder. 

“Check your pockets, mate.” 

Max’s eyes widened when he did in fact find his sunglasses in his pocket. He slid them onto his face with a sigh of relief, finally able to open his eyes properly. 

Just as they began to feel the discomfort of the sweltering weather, a gentle breeze swept in from the nearby seaside, bringing with it a cool and invigorating relief. The breeze, infused with the scent of salt, tousled their hair and kissed their skin, providing a much needed respite from the heat. 

After a few more minutes of walking, Max and Lando finally stumbled upon the market. It was nestled in a quaint square lined with vibrant stalls, each overflowing with a colourful array of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and artisanal crafts. 

They wove their way through the crowded square, taking in the sights and the sounds of the market. The air was alive with the chatter of vendors and the laughter of shoppers, creating a lively atmosphere. The breeze was stronger as the market was closer to the seaside, blowing close to harsh wind in their faces, but it was welcomed due to the strong sun. 

As they browsed the stalls, Max sampled a couple local delicacies first and Lando waited for his approval before trying them as well. 

“Does it have fish?” Lando asked, hesitant in taking the sample from the vendor. 

The vendor chuckled, “no, sir, it’s a dessert filled with cream, topped with hardened sugar.” 

Lando’s mouth dropped open in understanding before taking the sample from him. 

Max couldn’t resist picking up a few souvenirs to take home, like a proper tourist, while Lando struck up conversations with other locals, wanting to find out some details about the town. 

As he held a couple bags of items he bought to remember this trip, Max’s eyes lit up when he spotted a bakery on the other side of the market. 

“Hey, I’m going to check out the bakery over there,” Max pointed. “Grab a couple more treats,” he added. 

Lando nodded, his attention drawn to a colourful display of ripe fruits nearby. “Sounds good, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” 

The two friends parted ways, Max was enticed by the scent of warm pastries waiting for him while Lando’s mouth watered at the sight of juicy fruits. His trainer had wanted him to stay healthy throughout the break anyways, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

He greeted the vendor and began eyeing the various fruits; plump oranges, crisp apples, perfectly ripe bananas, and more. 

“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” The vendor asked, and Lando thought for a moment before replying. 

“I’ll take some of those oranges, grapes, and oh some apples too, please.” 

The vendor nodded and began putting the fruits into the paper bags, but paused once he bagged both the grapes and oranges. “Forget these apples, get these ones instead,” they said while showcasing another tray of apples that looked very similar. 

“It’s our premium organic apples, the best ones of the bunch.” 

Lando hesitated for a moment, but the vendor’s persuasive tone convinced him that it was a steal. 

To persuade Lando even further, the vendor added, “these ones are special, organic, freshly picked this morning. I’ll give you a good deal, just five dollars for one.” 

Lando blinked in surprise at the price, wondering if a single apple was genuinely five dollars, but then again he never had to do any grocery shopping on his own. Jon would usually bring it for him, or do all the work if they went together. 

Then he reasoned that it must be a rare variety or exceptionally fresh. “Alright, sounds good, give me a couple.” 

Lando happily handed over the money, and thanked the vendor once they passed over the bags. He paused for a moment once he returned to the main street, inhaling the breeze, feeling the tension of his usual everyday life slowly melt away. 

He spotted Max, noticing that he held even more bags than when he previously saw him. As Lando and Max regrouped near the bakery, the latter raved about the variety of treats he bought. “Mate! I think I bought everything.” 

They scanned the bustling market once more, wondering if they should take another look or return to the villa. Max’s gaze wandered towards the seaside, where tranquil waves lapped against the shore. 

“Hey, isn’t that our neighbour from the villa? The one who lives in the cottage?” Max asked, gaining Lando’s attention. 

He followed Max’s gaze and spotted you sitting alone on a bench gazing out at the sparkling sea. Recognition dawned on Lando’s face as he remembered you from yesterday. “Yeah, it is, should I go say hi?” 

Max considered it for a moment, glancing back at the path towards the villa before turning to Lando with a shrug. “Sure, why not? I’ll head back to the villa; catch up later yeah?” 

Lando nodded, grateful for Max’s understanding. “Are you sure you’ll be fine with carrying all that?” He asked jokingly, gesturing at the bags he held. 

“Shut up,” he muttered, nudging him with his shoulder. 

Lando walked off with a chuckle, “see ya.” 

His laughter died down as he approached you, noticing that your gaze was still fixed on the horizon as if you were searching for answers in the endless expanse of the sea. Perhaps you were, and he felt slightly guilty for approaching you, especially since you were far away from the rest of the crowd. 

However, before he could abort the idea, you glanced to the side, looking at him with confusion replacing your previous expressions. 

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile as he stood there, pointing to the empty space next to you. 

Your eyes clouded with a mixture of weariness and suspicion. "Suit yourself," you replied, your tone curt.

Undeterred by your guarded demeanor, Lando took a seat beside you, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic stranger before him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he ventured, attempting to break the ice.

You scoffed, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "I suppose," you muttered, your gaze returning to the horizon.

Sensing the walls you had erected around yourself, Lando decided to tread carefully, unwilling to push too hard too soon. He placed the bag of fruits on the grass before extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself. 

You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly accepting his handshake and introduced yourself, offering a tentative smile that failed to reach your eyes.

He repeated your name, wanting to become familiar with the way the vowels wrapped around his lips because he had a feeling that he would be saying your name a lot more often now. 

Despite the initial awkwardness, Lando found himself drawn to you, intrigued by the mystery that shrouded your presence. He wondered why you were sitting here alone when there was a crowded market not too far away from here, but he didn’t have the strength to ask just yet. 

He leaned against the bench, sighing as he watched the horizon just like you were. However, it became difficult to choose if the seaside view was prettier or you. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep, so he stole some glances at you every couple of moments without you knowing. 

As you sat in companionable silence, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, preventing the situation from feeling awkward. 

“How long have you lived in this town?” Lando asked, but the moment he did, he thought that it was too intrusive. 

He waited, one beat, two beats, before you responded. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” you admitted. 

A small smile threatened to grace your lips as you thought of the happier memories you’ve spent here, the ones before the news that turned you into a shell of the person you were once. 

“This town has always been home to me,” you added. 

Lando’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing,” he exclaimed, genuine interest sparkling in his eyes. But then his brows furrowed, “have you never felt like leaving this place behind? Move somewhere in the city?” 

You pressed your lips together in a tight smile, thinking of a response that wasn’t along the lines of I did want to leave. I had plans and dreams of studying abroad, living in the city, but fate had a different plan. Instead, you shrugged, “no, I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I like the community here, you know, everyone knows everyone.” 

He chuckled, “that can’t be a good thing all the time though.” 

You shook your head, “not always, news travels around pretty fast.” Feeling a tad bit intrigued by him, you asked, “so what made you come here?” 

“The villa. It’s my friend’s family’s villa and he lent it out for a couple weeks,” he explained, causing you to widen your eyes. “Oh, so you’re my neighbour?” 

He ducked his head and smiled sheepishly, “yeah, that’s, um, kind of why I approached you in the first place.” 

As the conversation ebbed between you and Lando, a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, punctuated only by the rhythmic sounds of waves crashing against the shore. 

After a while, Lando cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Hey, I was wondering… since you’re a local and all, would you mind showing me and a friend around town?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his face. 

When you didn’t answer right away, he continued explaining. “We’ve never been here before, and since we’re here for two weeks, I want to know every hidden gem and secret spot here, something less touristy.” 

You could tell that he was beginning to become nervous, especially based on your expression which you assumed wasn’t kind. You forced a smile on your face, instinctively grazing his knee with your palm that wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down. 

“Yeah, I’ll show you guys around,” you responded, and the warmth of your tone sent a ripple of excitement through Lando. 

His smile widened, “thank you! I went by the market today but I feel like I should have someone giving me a little bit more direction on what to do here.” 

“Oh you went to the market? Buy anything?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation flowing as well, especially since you liked hearing him speak. 

Lando gestured to the paper bag resting on the floor, “I got a couple fruits. Max, my friend, stocked up on the pastries from the bakery there. He already fell in love with them.” 

You didn’t stop the smile growing on your face. “I totally get that, anything from that bakery is to die for.” 

But then you glanced at the bag he held, and watching your gaze, he elaborated. “I got these organic apples, the vendor said they were giving me a pretty good deal, five dollars each.” 

Your jaw dropped, “five dollars each? You totally got scammed.”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Scammed? What do you mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. 

“No one sells a single apple for $5, Lando, no matter how ‘organic’ they tell you it is,” you explain, but based on his expression, he still didn’t understand why. 

Although his eyes did widen as he examined the contents. Now that he thought about it, the prices on the fruit seemed exorbitant, far beyond what he thought Jon paid. 

“Everyone in this town bargains, especially in the market,” you added, and he frowned. 

“I don’t need to bargain.” 

You shook your head. “I’m sure you’re rich enough, but the point is that every vendor marks up the price because they know the locals bargain. The public is happy because they bargained, and the vendor is satisfied because the products still sell at a good price.” 

He nodded in understanding, “oh, that’s weird, usually you just pay the price on the tag.” 

“Well that’s the thing, there aren’t any tags, the vendors just set the prices, and they also mark it up if they know that you’re a tourist.” 

His jaw dropped in surprise, “what? That’s not fair.” 

“And that is why you need to know your way around here,” you added, earning a smile from him. 

“That’s why you’re my tour guide.” 

You looked at the horizon as his gaze felt too intense in that moment. He still looked at you, a soft smile on his face mixed with lingering curiosity about you and this town that seemed to draw him in instantly. 

Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind you. “Hey, I’m all done, let’s go back home now?” 

You turned to see Isaac standing with his hands full of produce he bought for dinner, but a curious expression on his face as he noticed Lando next to you. 

“Um, yeah, did you get everything?” You ask as you stand up, and your brother immediately holds out his arm so you can loop your own with his. 

“Yes ma’am, I bought everything on the list,” he said playfully. 

Before he could lead you away, you patted his arm and glanced at Lando, “oh, this is Lando, our neighbour, at the villa.” 

Your brother’s eyes flickered with recognition as he glanced at Lando. “Ah, yes, nice to meet you, I’m Isaac.” 

The corner of Lando’s lip turned up briefly, before he nodded, “same here.” 

The afternoon sun was shining, yet it was cooler than earlier, making the journey back towards your street easier. The market had an influx of visitors since many preferred to stay at home when the morning heat was ablaze. 

Since the three of you were headed in the same direction, you decided to walk together. You walked side by side with your brother, your arm still looped with his. Lando had taken the liberty to carry a couple bags that Isaac held. 

Lando walked a couple steps ahead, as if he was the local and you were the tourist. You didn’t mind it though, because his gaze confused you. Every time he looked at you, he was either close to figuring out your secrets or he was just blissfully unaware.  

He was still a stranger, and you had no plans on telling him anything more than you had to. 

As you walked, the lively chatter of the market gradually faded into the background, replaced by the soothing sounds of the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. 

Despite the tranquility of the moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Lando’s presence just a couple steps in front of you felt both comforting and disconcerting, his easy demeanour belaying the mystery that seemed to arise at times. 

You thought back to your conversation at the bench, not finding anything concerning about the questions he asked or the responses to yours, but you couldn’t help but still feel on edge. Perhaps you wanted to trust him, but your mind didn’t allow it as easily as your heart willed you to. 

Isaac couldn’t resist teasing you, nudging your side with his elbow and tilting his head towards Lando. 

“So what’s the deal with you and the new neighbour, huh?” he whispered, keeping his voice down to prevent Lando from hearing him. 

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. “Oh, please. There’s no deal, we just met today.” 

Isaac raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Uh-huh, sure. But I think you’ll be seeing him a lot more often now, don’t you think so?” 

You nodded, “well he does live nearby, and he wants me to be a tour guide for him and his friend, Max, for the time they’re here.” 

He chuckled, his grin widening. “That’s very convenient. But I think you’ve got an admirer.” 

You scoffed, trying to brush off his teasing. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just being friendly.” 

“Keep telling yourself that, we’ll see what happens in the next couple of days,” he stated as he draped an arm around your shoulder which only lasted a couple seconds before you pushed him away. 

Since he wasn’t satisfied with just teasing you, he joined Lando’s side, instantly striking up a conversation. “So, Lando, enjoying your stay in our little town so far?” 

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Definitely, it’s been a refreshing change of scenery.” 

They continued on, speaking as if they knew each other for years.

As you neared the cottage, Lando handed Isaac the paper bags and bid you farewell. “Thanks for the company today, I’ll see you guys around.” 

With a nod and a wave, you and Isaac made your way inside, leaving the events of the day behind you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your shared abode. 

—

As the late morning sun filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your sleep, greeted by the familiar routine that marks the start of another day. The soft chirping of birds and faint chatter outside your window served as your alarm, nudging you gently into wakefulness.

You slid out of bed and padded over to the window, drawing back the curtains to reveal the tranquil scene outside. The small seaside town unfolded before you, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. It was a picturesque sight, one that you've grown accustomed to over the years.

With a sigh, you turned away from the window and began your morning routine. It's a well-worn pattern by now – first, you head to the bathroom to wash up and brush your teeth, the sound of running water a familiar soundtrack to your mornings.

Next comes the more clinical aspect of your routine. You reached for the small plastic organizer on the bathroom counter, filled with an assortment of medications neatly arranged in separate compartments. Your brother's voice echoed in your mind as you recalled his daily reminder to take your pills – a routine that has become as routine as brushing your teeth.

You dutifully pop each pill into your mouth, washing them down with a gulp of water. It's a mundane task, but one that is essential to your well-being. You've grown accustomed to the bitter taste of the medication, the lingering reminder of your illness that you can't escape.

Once the pills are swallowed, you move on to the next item on your checklist. Your brother's voice drifts in from the hallway, asking if you've taken your medication yet. You respond with a simple "yes," the words slipping easily from your lips.

As you go about your morning routine, there's a sense of detachment that settles over you – a feeling of going through the motions without really being present. It's a coping mechanism, a way to distance yourself from the reality of your illness and the uncertainty that comes with it.

But despite the clinical nature of your routine, there's a quiet determination that drives you forward. Each pill swallowed, each task completed is a small victory in the ongoing battle against your illness, however it’s a battle that you’re not sure if you’ll win or not. 

You finish your morning routine and join Isaac in the kitchen, where he’s already preparing breakfast. He glances up at you as you enter, a warm smile on his face. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets you, handing you a mug of steaming coffee, your one and only cup a day according to doctor’s orders. 

Still lost in your thoughts, you burn your tongue as you take the first sip. Isaac eyes you carefully, a hint of concern in his gaze as you grab an ice cube and stick it in your mouth. 

“You doing okay?” he asks, his voice soft. 

You force a smile, hoping to reassure him. Pushing the ice cube towards your cheek, you speak, “yeah, just another day.” 

“Just another day? Don’t you have to show Lando and Max around?” He asks, but quickly shifts his gaze to the egg on the pan. 

You nod, grateful for the distraction from your thoughts. "Yeah, I do. I almost forgot," you reply, mentally shaking off the lingering unease that had gripped you earlier.

Isaac watches you closely, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone gentle.

You give him a reassuring smile, trying to push aside the gnawing doubts that linger at the back of your mind. 

"I'll be fine," you insist, though the words sound hollow even to your own ears. “I’m thinking of showing them around some of the touristy spots first to get it out of the way, and then some historical sites if they’re up for it,” you explain, making a mental checklist. 

He nods, accepting your answer for now. "Just take it easy, okay? And call me if you need anything," he says, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

You squeeze his hand back, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Isaac," you murmur, feeling a sense of warmth wash over you in his presence.

Together, you and Isaac finish your breakfast in companionable silence, the weight of the upcoming day lingering in the air. But there was a hint of excitement brewing in your mind once you were reminded of your neighbours, and perhaps it’ll distract you from your usual thoughts. 

Meanwhile, Lando dashed around his room, wearing only a pair of pants, his movements quick and purposeful as he rummaged through his suitcase, searching for the perfect shirt for the day ahead. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, his brow furrowing in frustration as he realized how quickly time was slipping away.

"Max, are you almost ready?" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency.

From the living room, Max's relaxed voice drifted back. "Yeah, just taking my time. No rush, right?"

Lando rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he continued his frantic search for the right outfit. He held up a full sleeved sweatshirt against himself, judging the shirt in the mirror.

“No, too hot,” he muttered to himself and tossed the garment aside. He continued shuffling through the suitcase, not having the time to unpack completely. 

Then he held up a simpler t-shirt, considering it for a moment before shaking his head. “Too casual,” he mumbled, discarding it onto the growing pile of rejected clothes. 

With a sense of growing frustration, Lando finally spotted a light, airy button-down shirt that seemed suitable for the warm weather. He quickly slipped it on, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as the fabric settled comfortably against his skin. 

Satisfied with his choice, Lando turns his attention to his hair, running his fingers through his unruly curls in an attempt to tame them into some semblance of order. After a few futile attempts, he huffed and searched around for his beloved bucket hat, placing it on his head to prevent putting more effort into his hair. 

Glancing at himself in the mirror, he straightened his shirt and adjusted his hat. As a final touch, Lando grabbed his sunglasses and hastily shoved them in his pocket, then grabbed his phone and wallet before heading out of the room. 

As he entered the living room, Lando found Max lounging on the couch, seemingly unperturbed by the passing time. "C'mon, mate, we're gonna be late because of you," Lando chided, his tone laced with exasperation.

Max shrugged nonchalantly, a lazy grin playing across his lips. "She didn't give you a time."

Lando resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his frustration mounting with each passing second. "I know, but she's taking time out of her day to show us around. We need to be respectful."

Max chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow as he regarded Lando with amusement. "You asked her to show us around, you didn't need to."

Lando sighed, his patience wearing thin. "She's a local, Max. It's important to make a good impression."

Max's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Is that all what she is?"

Soon enough, Max decided to spare his best friend from further frustration and went upstairs to get dressed. 

While he did so, Lando thought about Max’s question, which he left unanswered. You were a mere stranger, yet after meeting you yesterday, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

Lando instantly sat up after a moment, looking around the room and spotting his digital camera sitting on the table nearby. He picked it up by the straps of the bag, wanting to take as many photos of the events of today as he could. 

The sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs, and soon Max reappeared, clad in a fresh set of clothes. He flashed a grin before taking his phone back from Lando. 

“Finally ready?” Lando teased, looking up at him. 

Max rolled his eyes, “yes.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair before asking, “what’s the plan for today?” 

Lando shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “that’s for our lovely tour guide to decide.” 

With a nod of agreement, Lando walked beside Max as they left the villa together. 

Their footsteps crunched echoed softly against the cobblestone path. The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, illuminating the streets as it was at the highest peak. As they made their way down the path, they spotted you stepping out of the cottage, a faint smile on your face as you headed towards them. 

“Hey, look who’s here,” Max remarked, nudging Lando with his elbow. 

Lando grinned in return, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Hi,” he muttered as you stood in front of him. 

You were quickly introduced to Max, and exchanged greetings before leading the way down the street. 

“So, where are we off to today?” Max asked, his gaze looking around before returning back to you. 

“Well, I thought we could start with a stroll through the town square,” you suggested, gesturing towards the many narrow streets. “Then, I’ll show you around a couple historic spots?” You asked, pausing and looking at them for a reaction. 

Lando nodded in agreement, “sounds like a plan, lead the way, tour guide.” 

With a playful grin, you set off towards the heart of the town, Lando and Max falling into step beside you. 

As you lead Lando and Max through the winding streets of the town, each building you pass enveloped you in a sense of nostalgia. Each cobblestone path seemed to hold a story, whispered through the intricate architecture and vibrant colours of houses. 

“You see that old bookstore over there?” you pointed, a smile playing on your lips. “It’s been here for generations, and they have the most fascinating collection of rare books.” 

Lando’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as he glanced at the bookstore. “I’ll have to check it out then,” he stated. 

“Avid reader?” You asked, walking side by side. 

He shook his head, “not at all, but there has to be something fascinating if you like it.” 

You chuckled at his response, focusing your gaze ahead as you felt your cheeks redden. “Well, I worked there as a teen, and from my experience, it’s always worth exploring.” 

Lando nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on the bookstore as you passed by it. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Max fell a couple of steps behind as he watched the interaction between you and Lando. Then he quickly caught up to his best friend, nudging him gently to gain his attention. “You know I’m here too, right?” 

Lando rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I know.” 

As you led the way through the bustling crowd, Lando and Max trailed behind you, keeping close to ensure they didn’t lose sight of you amidst the throng of people. Along the winding streets, you were greeted by familiar faces, the locals calling out your name and exchanging warm greetings as you passed by. 

Lando eagerly captured every picturesque moment with his camera. Occasionally, he would lower the camera to observe you as you engaged in conversations with strangers, raising the camera to his eye once more to capture candid moments of your interactions with them.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, you pointed out hidden gems nestled in the nooks and crannies of the town. From cozy art galleries adorned with vibrant paintings to antique shops filled with treasures of bygone eras, each discovery added to the tapestry of the town’s charm. 

With each step, you shared tidbits of local history and anecdotes, painting a vivid picture of life in the town. Lando and Max listened attentively, their eyes alight with curiosity as they soaked in the sights and sounds of the vibrant community. 

Walking down the narrow streets, you pointed out the historic clock tower and the old, abandoned church beside it. You mentioned that it was the oldest structure in town and pushed open the wooden doors.

Max looked around, intrigued. The interior had a musty scent mixed with faint incense, and sunlight streamed through stained glass, casting colorful patterns. He admired the architecture, understanding why it was cherished.

As you explored, you shared the tower’s history, noting its construction by skilled craftsmen from distant towns. The vaulted ceilings and stone pillars added to the sense of reverence. You paused, letting Max and Lando roam.

They were captivated by the church’s history and beauty, momentarily forgetting the outside world. Emerging into the sunlight, they exchanged awed glances, touched by the experience. It was a moment they would remember.

“So, what’s next on the agenda?” Lando asked, glancing down at his camera and scrolling through the photos before looking up at you. 

You grinned, “well there’s a garden not too far from here. It’s the perfect place to unwind and enjoy the beauty of nature.” 

Max’s eyes lit up with excitement, “yes, please, that sounds amazing.” 

With a laugh, you led them along winding pathways lined with vibrant blooms leading towards the tranquil garden. 

Max let out a contented sigh, “this place is amazing.” 

You smiled, gesturing towards a cluster of vibrant flowers. “There’s something magical about it.” 

Lando nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the picturesque surroundings. “Definitely worth the visit,” he remarked, raising his camera to capture the beauty around him. 

The tranquility of the garden seemed to envelop you, wrapping you in a sense of peace and serenity. Tall trees cast dappled shadows across the well-tended lawns, providing relief from the midday sun. The air was alive with the melodious chirping of birds and the occasional buzz of bees flitting from blossom to blossom. 

The garden was a lush oasis, meticulously landscaped with winding pathways that meandered among vibrant flower beds and verdant shrubbery. 

Max glanced at the pond, where a family of ducks paddled lazily. "Hey, check out those ducks," he exclaimed, pointing towards the water. "They look so peaceful."

You chuckled, nodding towards a nearby bench. "Let's take a seat and enjoy the view," you suggested.

As you sat on the stone bench, a sense of calm washed over you, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds creating a soothing melody. Max and Lando joined you, their expressions reflecting a similar sense of contentment.

Water lilies floated gracefully on top of the clear waters, their delicate blooms adding a touch of elegance to the scene. 

"This is nice," Max remarked, leaning back against the bench. "Thanks for bringing us here."

Lando nodded, his gaze drifting across the garden. "Yeah, it's a hidden gem," he agreed. "I never would've found it on my own."

You smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at sharing this special place with your neighbours. "I'm glad you both like it," you said warmly. "There's so much beauty to discover in this town if you know where to look."

As Lando admired the blooming flowers around him, his eyes settled on a particularly vibrant flower. With a grin, he plucked it from its stem, carefully holding it between his fingers.

"Hey, can I?" he asked, gesturing towards your hair with a playful twinkle in his eye.

You chuckled, nodding in amusement. "Sure, go ahead," you replied, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.

Lando leaned towards you with a grin, gently tucking the flower behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the placement of the bloom.

"There," he said with satisfaction, leaning back to admire his handiwork. "Looks perfect."

You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple yet thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you said softly, meeting Lando's gaze with appreciation.

You picked out another flower, holding it in front of him with a small smile. “My turn?” 

Lando chuckled, leaning forward and allowing you to place the flower behind his ear. His gaze remained steady on your face, watching as you stuck the tip of your tongue out between your lips in concentration. 

Leaning back, you looked at him with a smile. “There, now we match.” 

“I see how it is,” Max grumbled from beside you, earning a chuckle from you and Lando. 

Simultaneously, you and Lando picked out a couple of flowers, and placed them in his hair, his curls holding it steady. 

“Cute,” you commented once you completed the masterpiece with the last flower. Max laughed as he looked at himself in his phone camera, snapping a selfie for memories before telling you and Lando to join. 

Your face was squished between Lando and Max’s faces, both men displaying a cheesy grin for the photo, making you join in as well. 

As the gentle breeze ruffled through the garden, Lando turned towards you with a curious glint in his eyes. “Are there any other magical places you want to show us?” 

You pondered for a moment, considering the myriad of hidden gems scattered throughout the town. “Well, there’s one more spot I have in mind,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

Max perked up at the mention of another adventure, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’m in, lead the way.” 

With a nod, you rose from the bench, the flower in your hair swaying gently with the movement. “Let’s go,” you said, gesturing for Max and Lando to join you as you embarked on the next part of your journey. 

As you led Max and Lando out of the garden, the thought of another special place lingered in your mind. The lighthouse, with its storied history and breathtaking views, beckoned to you like a beacon in the distance. 

Lost in thought, you considered whether to reveal this cherished spot to your neighbours. The lighthouse held a special significance for you, a place of solace and reflection that you rarely shared with others. But something about Max and Lando’s genuine curiosity and enthusiasm stirred something within you, prompting you to entertain the idea of introducing them to this hidden gem. 

With a flicker of determination, you made up your mind. The lighthouse would be the perfect finale to your tour, a fitting conclusion to a day filled with discovery and adventure. 

As you neared the lighthouse, it stood tall against the sky, looking sturdy and ancient. Lando seemed really excited, his eyes wide as he took it all in. Max looked a bit unsure, especially when he saw the stairs leading up. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” you said softly once you saw Lando’s expression, feeling a sense of awe yourself. 

He nodded eagerly, clearly impressed. “Yeah, it’s really cool,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. 

“Are we going up there?” Max asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into his voice as he surveyed the towering structure. 

You nodded, a sense of reverence washing over you as you gazed up at the weathered bricks and the solitary lateen perched at the top of the lighthouse. “Yes, it’s probably my favourite spot in this entire town.” 

But Max seemed hesitant, eyeing the stairs with doubt. “I’m not too sure about this,” he admitted quietly. 

You understood his feelings and wanted to reassure him. “That’s okay, Max,” you said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to climb all the way up if you don’t want to. We can still explore around here.” 

Max glanced at Lando, “actually you know what? you guys should go up.” Max said suddenly, giving you a nod, “I’ll stay down here.” 

You frowned, “are you sure? I can show you around elsewhere.” 

But Max shook his head, “yeah, I’m sure. I know Lando really wants to check it out and I don’t wanna hold you guys back.” 

“You’re gonna miss out, mate, just c’mon it’s a couple stairs,” Lando tried to convince his best friend. 

He shook his head, “a couple? Looks like a lot, no, I’m good.” 

With a final nod of reassurance, you and Lando headed towards the first couple of stairs, leaving Max behind. As you began the trek upwards, your comment from earlier intrigued Lando. “Why is this your favourite spot?” 

“People don’t come here often, perhaps it’s because of the story behind it,” you replied, your words tinged with a hint of mystery. 

“What, is it haunted or something?” He asked, a skeptical look crossing his face. 

You shook your head, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Legend says that this lighthouse is haunted, but I believe it’s just a tragic love story,” you explained. 

“A love story? Do tell,” Lando urged, his curiosity piqued. 

“It was decades ago, the story passed on from neighbour to neighbour, so I’m not exactly sure which parts are true,” you forewarned. 

Lando smiled, “and you’re passing it on to your neighbour.” 

You glanced back at him, pausing for a moment so he could catch up, standing on the same step as you, just a tad bit taller. You didn’t realize how narrow the staircase was until he was standing beside you, since you’ve only ever come here alone. 

The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sea, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed faintly in the distance. Lando's eyes scanned your face, patiently waiting to hear the story. 

You cleared your throat, looking away from him. "You see, there was once a young couple who sought refuge in this lighthouse," you began, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy, recounting an old tale. "They were not from noble families or romance novels, but rather ordinary people with ordinary lives."

Lando leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued by the hint of mystery in your voice, causing you to shift on your feet but still remaining in the same spot, almost pressed against the wall beside you. 

"The young man was a fisherman, his days spent toiling away on the sea, his hands calloused from years of hard work," you continued, your words painting a picture of a life marked by struggle and perseverance. "And the young woman was a seamstress, her fingers nimble with the needle and thread, her dreams tempered by the harsh realities of life."

Lando's gaze softened with empathy as he imagined the challenges faced by the young couple. 

"But despite the hardships they endured, their love burned fiercely, a flame that refused to be extinguished by the storms of life," you said, your voice tinged with admiration for the resilience of the human spirit. "They would steal moments together in the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, finding solace in each other's arms amidst the chaos of the world."

Lando's heart swelled with warmth at the thought of such a simple yet profound love. You cleared your throat once you saw a hint of his smile, turning away and continuing your trek up the stairs while continuing the story. 

"But their happiness was fleeting, as life has a way of testing even the strongest of bonds," you continued, your voice growing somber as you recounted the challenges faced by the young couple. "Their days were filled with hardship and uncertainty, their dreams overshadowed by the harsh realities of poverty."

Lando followed after you, his breath caught in his throat as he listened, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's struggles. 

"And so, when tragedy struck and the young man was lost at sea, the young woman was left alone to face the cruel hand of fate," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of the wind howling through the lighthouse. "Her grief was a burden too heavy to bear, her tears a testament to the depth of her sorrow."

Tears welled in Lando's eyes as he imagined the young woman's pain. 

"And though the years passed and the world moved on, the lighthouse remained standing as a silent witness to the love that once flourished within its walls," you concluded, your voice tinged with a sense of reverence for the enduring legacy of the young couple. "Their spirits may have faded into the mists of time, but their love lives on in the whispers of the wind and the crashing of the waves, a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, love can be a guiding light."

Lando remained silent, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's story, as he pondered the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience in the face of adversity.

“You’re not making this up, are you?” He asked, just to be sure, but once he didn’t see you burst out laughing, he knew the answer. 

"Legend has it that their spirits linger within these walls, bound by an eternal love that transcends the confines of time," you explained. "They say the light still flickers on stormy nights, a beacon of hope in the darkness, as if she's searching for her lost love amidst the crashing waves."

As you and Lando continued climbing the spiral staircase, the wooden steps creaked beneath your feet, each groan echoing through the hollow chamber like a whispered secret. The air grew cooler as you ascended, a faint scent of salt lingering in the air, a reminder of the vast expanse of ocean that stretched out beyond the horizon.

With each step, the world outside faded away, replaced by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the narrow windows, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the worn stone walls. Lando's footsteps fell in sync with yours, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the swirling emotions that stirred within you.

As you reach the top of the lighthouse, a sense of awe washed over you, the panoramic view of the coastline stretching out before you like a painting come to life. The sea stretched out endlessly, its surface shimmering in the sunlight, while seagulls soared overhead, their cries mingling with the distant roar of the waves. It’s a sight you’ve seen many times, but every time still feels like the first. 

Lando stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his expression a mixture of wonder and awe. For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of the young couple's story hanging heavy in the air, a reminder of the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience.

As the light of the setting sun bathed the world in a warm golden glow, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a quiet acceptance of the mysteries that lay hidden within the depths of the human heart.

With a soft sigh, you turned to Lando, a small smile playing on your lips. "Isn't it beautiful?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando nodded, his eyes shining with a newfound appreciation for the simple beauty of the world around him. "It's breathtaking," he agreed, his voice tinged with emotion.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting vibrant hues of orange and pink across the sky, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the breathtaking beauty of the sunset. The world seemed to slow down, the cares and worries of the day fading away as you stood transfixed by the natural spectacle unfolding before you.

But as the sky darkened and the first stars began to twinkle overhead, a pang of realization cut through the tranquil moment. It was almost nighttime, which meant it was time for your pills. You glanced at your watch, a flicker of anxiety fluttering in your chest as you calculated the minutes ticking away.

For a brief moment, you considered the consequences of being late in taking your medication. The regimen was strict, the consequences dire if you missed a dose. But as you looked at Lando standing beside you, gazing at you,  his eyes reflecting the colors of the setting sun, a different thought crossed your mind.

Maybe, just this once, it was worth it to be a little late. Maybe, in this moment of shared beauty and connection, the rules could be bent just enough to allow you to savor the fleeting magic of the evening.

With a soft smile, you tucked the thought away, allowing yourself to linger a little while longer in the warm embrace of the sunset. 

“Stay like that,” Lando instructed with a pointed finger at you. 

“Like what?” You mumbled. 

“Don’t move a muscle,” he hastily replied, holding the straps of the camera that was hung around his neck, quickly turning it on and pointing at you. 

“You look beautiful in this light,” He stated, slightly gesturing to his camera before raising it. 

A tint of blush covered your cheeks but you didn’t prevent him from taking a photo of you. 

Remaining still, you heard the shutter click, once, twice, and even a third time before he was satisfied with the result. 

“What are you going to do with those photos?” You ask, remembering that he’s taken quite a lot of them today, of all the different sceneries. 

“Put 'em in an album, you know, for memories, and I can’t forget my favourite tour guide,” he said with a cheeky grin. 

“Favourite? That’s quite a title for only the first day,” you teased with a smile, leaning against the railing, choosing to look at Lando instead of the setting sun. 

“You know how to make a good impression, it’s hard not to call you my favourite.” 

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could leave a good impression," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You've done more than that," he said, his voice softening. "You've shown us a side of this town that we never would've discovered on our own."

You felt a swell of pride at his words, grateful for the opportunity to share your hometown with new friends. "I'm just happy I could show you around," you said sincerely.

As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from Lando's, the moment of connection lingering in the air between you. "I suppose we should head back now," you said, a hint of regret coloring your voice.

Lando hesitated but nodded in agreement, “can’t keep Max waiting this long.” 

But before you could move, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Thank you, for everything," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his touch, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the intimate gesture. "You're welcome," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a lingering smile, Lando turned and started back towards the path, leaving you standing alone on the balcony, your thoughts swirling with a heady mix of emotions. Shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, you followed him down the steps. 

“Mate, it’s good that you didn’t come, she said it’s haunted.” You heard Lando’s voice, speaking to Max. 

When you came into his view, Max looked at you with widened eyes, “haunted?” 

You shrugged, looking at Lando, “it’ll make for a good bedtime story, don’t you think?” 

Max started shaking his head, but Lando nodded, “I’ll be sure to tell him right before he gets a good night’s sleep.” 

On the way back home, Lando had been so impressed by your touring skills that he had already started asking about your plans for the next day. With no responsibilities on your schedule, the three of you decided to go hiking on a nearby trail.

As you reached your cottage, the familiar sense of fatigue washed over you, dulling the edges of your excitement from the day’s activities. With a wave and a promise to meet again tomorrow for more adventures, you bid farewell to Lando and Max, watching as they walked off to the villa. 

Once they were out of sight, you allowed your smile to fade, the weight of the day settling heavily on your shoulders. The ache in your joints intensified, a reminder of the illness that lurked beneath the surface, threatening to consume you if you let your guard down. 

Stepping inside the cottage, you were surprised to find Isaac waiting for you in the dimly lit living room. His expression was a mix of concern and mild frustration as he looked up from his book.

"You didn’t take your nightly pills on time," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You know you can’t skip it."

You sighed, the heaviness in your chest feeling almost unbearable. "Isaac, stop acting like our mother," you mumbled, moving past him to the kitchen.

Isaac followed you, not willing to let it go. "I’m serious. You’ve had a long day, and you need to take care of yourself. I don’t want you to overdo it."

Grabbing the bottle of medication from the counter, you turned to face him, irritation mingling with the fatigue in your eyes. "I know, okay? I just wanted one evening where I didn’t have to think about it. Just one."

He watched you with a mix of empathy and helplessness, understanding your need for normalcy but unable to ignore the reality of your condition. "I get it, I really do. But skipping your meds isn’t the way to do it."

With a heavy sigh, you filled a glass with water and downed the pills, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue. "Happy now?" you muttered, setting the empty glass down.

Isaac's expression softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I’m just worried about you," he said quietly.

You nodded, the weight of his concern settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know. I appreciate it, really. It’s just… sometimes it’s hard to keep going like this."

He reached out and squeezed your shoulder gently. "We’ll get through it, together. Just promise me you’ll take it easy tomorrow, okay?"

A faint smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "Go get some sleep. You’ve been waiting up for me."

Isaac gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading to his room. As you settled into bed, the weight of exhaustion dragging at your limbs, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more days like this lay ahead. The uncertainty of the future loomed large in your mind, casting a shadow over even the simplest moments of joy.

As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts lingered on Lando and Max. Their arrival felt like a breath of fresh air, a chance to momentarily forget about your illness and embrace a semblance of normalcy. They didn’t know about your condition, which meant they wouldn't look at you with pity or treat you like a fragile doll. Their presence offered a respite from the constant reminders of your limitations, an opportunity to live in the moment and savor each day as it came.

For so long, your life had been governed by routines and restrictions, every decision weighed against the backdrop of your illness. But with Lando and Max, you felt a sense of freedom, an invitation to break away from the chains that bound you. They saw you not as someone fragile, but as a capable guide and a new friend. You wanted to hold onto that feeling, to let their presence remind you of who you were beyond the confines of your diagnosis.

Their energy and zest for life felt like a tonic; lifting your spirits and reigniting your desire to experience the world beyond your illness. With them, you could laugh freely, explore without fear, and simply be yourself without constantly worrying. Yet, there was a lingering guilt that gnawed at you, a silent whisper that you were using them, exploiting their company to escape your reality. 

Despite the joy they brought, this guilt cast a shadow over your newfound happiness. You didn’t want to deceive them or yourself, but the allure of living fully and freely, even for a short while, was too tempting to resist. You resolved to make the most of their visit, using their company as an excuse to live as vibrant as you once did. 

—

The next morning, you moved with practiced stealth, careful not to make a sound as you gathered your hiking gear. The house was still and quiet, the early hour providing a perfect cover for your escape. You knew your brother would disapprove of your plans to go hiking with Lando, so you hoped to slip out before he noticed.

Just as you reached the front door, the sound of footsteps halted your progress. Turning, you saw Isaac standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to head out himself. His eyes narrowed as he took in your gear.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Isaac’s voice was tight with concern.

You sighed, knowing this confrontation was inevitable. “I’m going hiking with Lando. It’s just a short trail, nothing too strenuous.”

Isaac’s expression darkened. “Didn’t I tell you to take it easy? When are you going to take care of yourself?”

“What more do you want me to do?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling over. “Should I wrap myself up in bubble wrap and stay in bed until I inevitably die?”

“Don’t say that,” Isaac’s voice wavered, his concern morphing into something deeper and more painful.

“I have to!” you shouted, the dam of pent-up emotions finally breaking. “I have to acknowledge it, to you, to our parents, because while you guys are doing everything in your power to ignore it, it’s still gonna happen whether you like it or not.”

He took a step back, his face pale. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I’m going to die anyways,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “Whether it’s tomorrow or a couple of weeks later, I’ve accepted that by now. You know why? Because even if I’m alive right now, I’m treated like a fucking corpse. I cannot do a single thing without our mother’s voice in my mind. ‘Oh, don’t stand for too long, don’t walk for too long, take your meds, don’t let your heartbeat speed up, don’t eat this, don’t eat that.’ It’s fucking tiring. Forget her, I can’t even be an older sister anymore for you. For god’s sake, you make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for us. You’re acting as if I can’t lift a single spoon.”

Isaac’s eyes were filled with tears now, but you couldn’t stop. The words poured out, each one a release of years of pent-up frustration and pain. “The entire town knows, Isaac. Any time I go out, I see the pity in their eyes. You know who doesn’t know? Lando and Max. And I have no plans on telling them because they actually treat me like a healthy human, something you guys won’t ever do again.”

You didn’t wait for his response, not allowing him to speak. You walked out the door, letting it close behind you with a finality that echoed your determination. 

When you reached, Lando was already waiting for you by the trailhead, leaning casually against a tree with his backpack at his feet. He waved when he saw you approaching, his smile faltering slightly as he noticed the tension in your posture and the slight frown on your face.

"Hey, there you are!" he called out, his voice bright. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."

"Sorry, I'm a bit late," you replied, forcing a smile.

Lando's brow furrowed with concern. "Everything okay?"

You waved it off, not wanting to delve into the argument with Isaac. "Yeah, just had a rough morning. Let's get going, shall we?"

He nodded, still seeming a bit unsure. "Alright, if you say so." He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and fell into step beside you as you started down the trail.

“Max isn’t joining us today?” you asked as you started the hike.

Lando shrugged playfully. “Nah, he’s not really the hiking type.”

In truth, Lando thought back to the moment he convinced Max to do something else. He had wanted this time alone with you, to get to know you better without any distractions. The way your face lit up when you talked about your favorite places made him want to see more of that joy.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like the outdoorsy type. I guess we'll have to find something else to drag him into."

As you continued along the path, Lando’s closeness became even more evident. He would occasionally place his hand on your back to guide you over rough terrain or hold your hand to help you across a stream. Each touch was gentle yet charged with an energy that made your heart race.

The path wound through a dense forest, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the sound of birds chirping. As you walked, the tension from your argument with Isaac began to ease, the peaceful surroundings and Lando's infectious enthusiasm slowly lifting your spirits.

"Maybe we can convince him to join us on a beach day or something," Lando said, his thoughts lingering on how much he enjoyed these moments alone with you. "But honestly, I'm kinda glad it's just the two of us today. More time to get to know my favorite tour guide."

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, the compliment warming you from the inside. “Still your favorite tour guide, huh?”

He shrugged playfully. "The competition is tough, but you’re always coming out on top. Besides, I figured I needed some one-on-one time to really experience what this town has to offer."

As the trail began to climb, you focused on your breathing, matching your pace to Lando's. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself relaxing more with each step. The forest opened up to a meadow filled with wildflowers, the colors vivid and bright under the morning sun.

Lando knelt down to take a photo of a particularly vibrant patch of flowers. "This place is incredible. How do you know all these hidden spots?"

"I've lived here my whole life," you said, watching him as he adjusted the focus on his camera. "Spent a lot of time exploring."

"Must be nice," he said, standing up and looking around. "Having all this beauty right in your backyard."

"Yeah, it is," you replied, though your thoughts drifted back to the times you wanted to leave this place. "Sometimes you take it for granted until you share it with someone else."

Eventually, you reached a lookout point with a breathtaking view of the coastline along with the lighthouse you explored yesterday. The ocean stretched out endlessly, waves glittering in the sunlight. Lando pulled out his camera again, capturing the scene and a few candid shots of you taking in the view.

"This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with awe. "Thanks for bringing me here."

You smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with a pang of guilt. Lando didn’t know the real reason behind your determination to hike today, nor the weight you were trying to escape. 

"You're welcome," you replied. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."

As you stood there, side by side with Lando, your words said to Isaac still lingered in the back of your mind, wondering if you'd said the wrong thing. You knew that you had to take a stand for yourself, otherwise you’d be pressured into regret, but he’s also your brother and he’s always wanted the best for you. You pushed those thoughts down, determined to make the most of this day as if it was your last. 

With Lando's enthusiasm and the beauty of the surroundings, you found it easier to forget, even if just for a little while, the shadow that always loomed over you.

"So, what's next on our adventure?" Lando asked, breaking the silence.

You laughed softly. "Let's just see where the trail takes us."

Once Lando was satisfied with the amount of photos he took, you began to descend the trail from the lookout point. The path became steeper causing you to walk carefully, trying to focus on your footing. 

The trail wound through another section of dense forest with the ground covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves. You and Lando continued to chat, touching upon all sorts of topics. 

Just as you were starting to relax, your foot caught on a hidden root and you found yourself losing balance. Panic surged through you as your ankle twisted painfully. Before you could hit the ground, Lando was there, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you upright. His grip was strong and steady, and you clung to him for a moment, trying to catch your breath and process the sudden burst of pain. 

“Whoa, are you okay?” Lando asked, concern etched on his face as he steadied you. 

You winced, trying to put weight on your ankle and finding it difficult. “I think I twisted my ankle.” 

Lando’s brows furrowed with worry. “Let’s sit down for a minute. Here, lean on me.” 

He guided you to a nearby rock, helping you sit down gently. He knelt in front of you, examining your ankle with a careful touch. “Does it hurt a lot?” 

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from crying out. “Yeah, it does.”

Lando looked around, his face serious. “I think we should head back. I don’t want you to make it worse.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Lando. I didn’t mean to ruin our hike.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Your safety is more important than the hike. Besides, we can always come back another time.”

He helped you stand, supporting your weight as you gingerly tested your injured ankle. With his arm around your waist, you felt a mixture of gratitude and awkwardness, acutely aware of his closeness and the concern in his eyes.

As you slowly made your way back down the trail, Lando stayed close, his grip on you firm but gentle. His presence was comforting, and despite the pain, you felt a sense of connection with him that was hard to ignore.

Back at the trailhead, Lando leads you towards his car, surprising you. “When did you get a car?” 

“Figured I’d rent one while I’m here, just so we don’t have to walk everywhere,” Lando shrugged as he explained. 

He helped you into his car, making sure you were comfortable before getting in himself. He started the car, casting quick glances at you to ensure you were alright. The engine’s hum was a soothing background noise as he navigated the road back to town. 

“You know,” he began, trying to lighten the mood, “I think this might be the first hike I’ve been on where we didn’t make it to the top.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating his effort to keep things light. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.”

He smiled, eyes focused on the road. “Yeah, and now we have an excuse to do it again. When you’re feeling better, of course.”

You leaned back, the pain in your ankle dulling slightly with the rest. “I appreciate that, Lando. And I promise, next time, no hidden roots.”

He laughed, a genuine sound that made you feel a bit better about the whole situation. “Deal.”

As you pulled into the town, Lando’s concern was still evident. “Do you want to go straight to the clinic, or should we stop by your place first?”

“Home is fine,” you replied. “I’ll just need some ice and rest.”

Lando nodded, driving directly to your house. He parked and quickly came around to help you out. With his support, you hobbled across the driveway to the front door, quickly finding your keys and entering. 

Inside, you settled on the couch while Lando fetched some ice from the kitchen with your directions. He elevated your foot, resting it on a cushion before gently placing the ice pack on your ankle. “Keep this on for a while,” he instructed, earning a chuckle from you. 

“Okay, Doctor Lando.” You winced slightly at the cold but knew it was necessary. “Thank you,” you muttered softly as he joined you on the couch. 

“Hey, what are friends for?” He shot back.

You raised your eyebrows. “When did we become friends?” you asked teasingly. 

Without a beat, he responded, “from the moment you told me I got scammed.” 

You shook your head with a smile on your face. His genuine care and the connection you felt during the hike was undeniable. Despite the pain and the day’s mishap, you still enjoyed it all. 

As you both sat there, the sun beginning to set outside, you felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe you couldn’t control everything about your condition, but you could control how you spent your time. Right now, with Lando by your side, you felt like you were making the most of it. 

“How about we watch a movie?” Lando suggested, breaking the comfortable silence. “Something to take your mind off things.” 

“That sounds perfect,” you agreed. 

As the movie started, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade, replaced by a warm sense of contentment. As the soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the room, you heard the front door creak open. You tensed slightly, knowing it was Isaac. The memory of your heated argument from earlier that morning returned to your mind like it was fresh, and you weren’t sure how he would react to finding Lando here. 

Isaac stepped into the living room, his eyes flicking between you and Lando, and then down to your ankle propped up with an ice pack. His brows furrowed in surprise, and his look spoke volumes — a silent “I told you so” about taking it too far.

“Hey,” Isaac said, his tone carefully neutral as he addressed Lando. “What’s going on here?”

“Hey,” Lando responded, sensing the tension but keeping his tone friendly. “We went hiking, and she twisted her ankle.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across his face. “I see.”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the need to explain but also not wanting to escalate the situation. “It’s just a sprain, Isaac. Lando’s been helping me out.”

Isaac nodded curtly, his gaze softening slightly but still clearly worried. “Thanks, mate,” he addressed Lando. 

He started towards the kitchen, clearly not wanting to prolong the conversation but not ignoring your presence either.

You watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and lingering tension. The argument had left a mark, but you could see that he was making an effort to understand your perspective, even if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Lando glanced at you, sensing the undercurrent of emotion. “You and your brother… everything okay?”

You sighed softly, not wanting to burden him with the details. “We had a disagreement earlier. It’s complicated.”

He nodded, not pushing further but offering a supportive presence. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.”

Isaac reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of water, which he handed to you without a word. You took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

He simply nodded again and headed to his room, leaving you and Lando alone in the living room. Despite the brief interaction, you felt a subtle shift in Isaac’s demeanor. He was trying, in his own way, to respect your wishes and not overdo his concern for your illness.

As the movie continued, you found yourself relaxing again, the earlier tension easing away. Lando’s easygoing nature and the quiet understanding from your brother provided a much-needed sense of balance.

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself growing more comfortable and drowsy, especially with Lando’s warm presence beside you. Earlier, you had mentioned feeling cold, due to the ice, and he had fetched a blanket, draping it over both of you. As you nestled into the couch, the combination of the movie’s soft soundtrack and Lando’s steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Lando noticed when your head gently rested against his shoulder, your breathing deep and even. He smiled softly, careful not to move and disturb you. As the credits began to roll, he glanced at his watch and realized it was getting late. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to leave.

He gently shifted, trying to move without waking you. Before he got up, he couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and press a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. It was an instinctive gesture, filled with affection that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

Carefully, he adjusted the blanket to ensure you were snug and warm. He stood up quietly, casting one last fond look at you before making his way to the door. Lando left silently, closing the door with a soft click, leaving you to your dreams.

An hour later, Isaac retreated from his bedroom, finding you fast asleep on the couch. Instead of waking you, he went to the kitchen and fetched your evening medicine and a glass of water. Returning to the living room, he placed them gently on the table beside the couch, ensuring they’d be the first things you saw when you woke up.

Isaac stood there for a moment, watching you sleep peacefully. Despite the argument earlier, he understood your desire to live fully, even if it scared him. With a sigh, he retreated back to his room, hoping that you’d find a balance between living your life and taking care of yourself. The quiet house seemed to settle around your sleeping form, a brief moment of peace amidst the whirlwind of emotions and challenges.

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[highonakuweeds]

Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness?

Sylus/right hand man!reader Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | ao3

SUMMARY:

You'd been down on your luck for the past few years, scavenging for food no matter how disgusting it was. Anything to keep you alive, right?

That is until you bump into the leader of Onichynus, whose interest piqued due to the odd glow under the skin of your inner wrist, allowing you access to information within a single glance. In exchange for you to be his right hand man, his informant, you'll live under his roof.

ao3

“So, what do you say?” That low honey of a voice echoed in your mind as your jaw clenched, eyes darting around to assess the situation. Your health was as low as your wealth at that moment; you could not spare another day on the streets, else you might fall. Literally.

You glanced at the inside of your wrist, where a small spot in it, right above your pulse, glowed a soft red. Hesitantly, you looked back up at the leader of Onichynus, whose smirk never left him. “I just have to be your… your what— secretary, basically?”

He shrugged, and you envied the nonchalance present in every action he did. “If that’s what you want to call it, then by all means, kitten, yes. My secretary.”

You cringed at the nickname before deeply sighing, shoulders dropping as you lazily brought your right hand up, and the leader of Onichynus eyed your glowing wrist. “Alright then,” you finally said, smiling awkwardly as he grinned, shaking your hand firmly. “But don’t call me kitten.”

Sylus just laughed. “Okay, sweetie.”

“(Name) is just fine.”

“What about (Nickname)?”

You pondered over it, hand still gripping his. It didn’t sound that bad, and no one’s really called you that before. You nodded, shaking his hand once more. “Deal.”

----

If you think that the leader of Onichynus is a mystery, his right hand man is tenfold.

Always in the shadows yet never leaving their master’s side; that’s what others had usually taken note of. To conceal their identity, they wear a dark hood that covers half their face, only revealing a small upturn of their lips if you were truthful or worthy of their master’s attention or a slight frown if they realized you just tried to fool the leader of Onichynus. 

In fact, there would be times wherein he would visibly show care about the verdict of his right hand man. Just a simple shake of their head would send you begging and sobbing for mercy. Some had never even seen the light of day ever again.

Who this person actually was, no one knew. There were no discernable features about them except for one thing: a soft glow that despite the many layers of bandages tried to hide never actually shrouded its light on their right wrist. It would flicker and dim, yet in some cases pulse and glimmer. Was it a protocore imbued in their body? Or was it something else?

Many who lived to tell the tale of meeting the leader knew of his two henchmen, kept always close by their side, but not them. Never their right hand man.

You physically cringed and recoiled at the use of the word ‘master’ before removing your gaze at what Tara was reading from her phone. “That sounds so—”

“Cool? Intriguing?” Tara butted in, eyes gleaming at the sudden introduction to a new figure in the N109 Zone. You deadpanned, leaning down to swipe away from the app she was reading it from. She pouted at you before setting her phone down as you spoke. “No,” you countered. “Edgy.”

Tara’s shoulders slumped at your words. “It is not! This may be new information! Not many people talk about the N109 Zone, you know.” As you rolled your eyes at that statement, ready to refute her, she interrupted you before you even opened your mouth. “And besides, people are going crazy over this. See?”

She opened her phone once more to show you the comments of the post she read the excerpt from. Your lips curled in disgust as you read each one. 

“dont u think thats lowkey really hot” “wait whys that kinda…” “the hood stays on.” “how come we’ve never seen them before?” 

You snorted at the last one. At least they had common sense. “I don’t get the hype. It’s either a myth, or someone just trying to do their job.” You clasped your hands, startling Tara. “Which is what we should be doing right now! Isn’t that right, Tara? Don’t you have a bit of paperwork that you’ve been holding off on?”

She grunted, clearly stunned. “Wait, how’d you know that—”

“I’m off to do mine then! Toodle-loo!” You exclaimed, already halfway to your desk. When your face was finally out of your friend’s vision, you grimaced, a whine coming out of you. Who had the audacity to put that up on social media? You’ll have to ask Sylus to take it down later.

—--

“Okay so,” you started, tapping the inside of your right wrist, a 3D diagram of a tall building appearing. “The auction, as you know, starts in 3 hours. Many of the underground’s elite are joining, and so are some people who got introduced to events like this via the Nest. There will be new faces so I am begging you, please keep your sassiness to yourself for just one day. I know it’ll be hard, but I promise you it’ll be harder if you just have extra nuisances. Oh, and by the way—”

“(Nickname),” his voice snapped you out of your rambling. “I think I’ll be fine.”

You whipped your head at him before scoffing, shrugging as you tapped your wrist again, removing the diagram. “Suit yourself.” As you sat down on the edge of Sylus’ bed (with that, you earned a slight raise of a brow from him, whose back was leaned on the bed’s headrest), you clicked your tongue. “And just so you know, there is a theme to this, so I’d rather you go with cool colors instead of your normal red—”

“Thank you, my right hand man, but I’m afraid I’m sticking with red,” your boss plainly interrupted, irking you. What irritated you even more was the use of your title. You hated being called Sylus’ “right hand man” despite it being true. 

You pursed your lips, nodding stiffly. “Right, about that whole ‘right hand man’ thing, there’s this post that’s been blowing up on social media about me, and it’s making me sound way worse than I am. Could you have it taken down?”

Sylus smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly before picking his phone up from the nightstand. After a quick while, he lazily showed you the exact post. “Is it this one?”

A sigh of relief escaped you as you nodded, lips curled up. That is until you realized he was the one that posted it in the first place. Your shoulders slumped as you quickly attacked him, trying to grab the phone from him as he reached it up. 

You heard a small grunt coming out of him when his back harshly hit the headboard, but you couldn’t care less. “Take it down!” You exclaimed, kneeling on his thighs to reach higher. Sylus swiftly brought it down, however, grinning when he saw the annoyance drawn all over your face. “And why should I? It gives you good face.”

“But it paints the wrong picture of me!” You whined, stooping down to grab his wrist. A shine of victory sparkled on your face when you did, but he only raised his brows, merely allowing you to do so. He’s going easy on you. “There are people thirsting over me!” 

At that, Sylus barked out laughter, ripping his wrist away from your grip. “There are? I haven’t checked the comments yet.” 

Suddenly, a wash of horror swept through you, and your efforts to catch the phone doubled. “Wait no, don’t—”

“‘Is this what the dark romance girlies were looking for?’” He read out, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face. He switched his phone to the other hand as you tried to grab it, but to no avail. “‘Why have the leader when you can have the right hand man?’ Okay, ouch.” Sylus sarcastically remarked, and you winced at the comments. “Enough, Sylus!”

“You should be flattered, (Nickname),” he said, causing you to stop in your antics. “It’s annoying. Now, take it down—”

You yelped the moment you felt his free hand on your chest, flipping your positions with ease. Jaw clenched, you glared at him, trying to pry off his hand. “How about this?” Sylus negotiated. “I’ll take the post down,” with that, you exhaled, a weight suddenly lifted from your shoulders. “If you go to the auction with me tonight.”

…what.

You scoffed as you stared at him, brows scrunching up. “I’ve never been to an auction with you before.”

“You have—”

“Not in person! I was always just a little crow pin on your coat.” You argued, sitting up on Sylus’ bed as he got off on top of you, rolling his eyes at your words. “What’s the difference?”

You blinked at him, scoffing incredulously. “‘What’s the difference?’ What’s the difference? The difference is that I actually have to talk to the damn people! And they’re gonna go all crazy because, ‘ooh, the leader of Onichynus has a new woman on his arm’!” 

He chuckled at your imagination and anxieties, standing up to go fix himself. “Alright then, the post stays up—”

“Wait!” You stopped, a hand out. Sylus looked at you expectantly, as if he already knew what your answer would be. You felt your eye twitch at his expression, and he just “innocently” smiled at it, though there was barely anything innocent about him. You sighed, posture slouching in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go with you,” you mumbled.

A smile of victory that was supposed to be on your face appeared on your boss’. “Perfect. The dress is already in your closet.”

Your face slowly contorted as you processed his words. ‘The dress’? Just as he was about to enter his bathroom to freshen up, you straightened your back on his bed. “What dress? Were you anticipating this?”

No response came from him except for low laughter, mocking you as you grumbled your way out of his room. 

Your boss is going to be the death of you, you swear.

—--

As you walked the long hallway and took a sharp turn to your right to go to your room, you took a deep breath. This is going to be your first time actually showing yourself in public without any disguise, without any cover, ever since you decided to work under Sylus a couple years ago. Sure you knew a bit of social etiquette in terms of formal settings and such, but those were all from books; you never inclined yourself to actually join Sylus in any of them. From what you’ve heard from him, they were usually boring, where the filthy rich conversed whilst participating in illegal activities. And though the filthy rich part caught your attention, the “boring” did not. Nor did the illegal activities. You didn’t give a rat’s ass about what Sylus or people like him did behind the law’s back, but you were still technically a hunter. If word spreads that someone from Linkon City’s handful of heroes is engaging in sketchy weapon trading, then you would be utterly screwed.

You opened the door to your room with a sigh, though whether it was one of relaxation at the sight of your luxurious suite-like room, or one of frustration at how Sylus practically forced you to join him, you weren’t quite sure. Nevertheless, you bee-lined straight towards your walk-in closet, an addition Sylus willingly placed in your contract a week or so after when he realized just how material-oriented you were. 

Ah, right, Sylus loved spoiling you.

You could prove that fact by glancing at your wardrobe. It was certainly way bigger than the room you lived in (stolen) before working as Sylus’ right hand man. Lit up with warm pin lights outlining the perimeter on the top and on the bottom, clothes and jewelry alike made the room look like Heaven. And you would constantly ask yourself if this was Heaven, indeed. To your left were the fancier types of clothing, perfectly tailored to fit your measurements, and to the right were the clothes you would wear for day-to-day (designer, of course. Wouldn’t want Sylus’ money to go to waste). In the middle was a glass island with jewelry that cost more than a fortune, and probably more than your life. It gleamed horribly bright due to the mix of metals and gems. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, you could probably name it all. Though you preferred some over others, a little bit of everything didn’t hurt anyone, right? Certainly not Sylus’ wallet.

You would’ve felt bad for buying more than half of what you have in your closet using Sylus’ money, but his closet cost more than yours ever could. And every time you’d borrow his sweet little black card to go shopping, he never said a word, just a single turn of his lips of approval as you skipped your way towards the most expensive shops you knew. And a good chunk of your belongings were gifts from him, too —”as a token of gratitude”, he’d always say (you never believed him)— so you knew that he didn’t care.

Whether you liked the idea of it or not, you had agreed to become his right hand woman —his secretary, even— so you couldn’t really complain when people called you that (despite not knowing who you really are). Plus, the job came with benefits, so might as well suck it up. 

One thing caught your eye, though, and that was a box on top of a cushioned chair in the corner of the closet. It was beige with a silver ribbon tied on the top, a deep contrast to the darker palette of your room. Stealthily, you walked towards it, brow raised, before your entire body relaxed when you noticed the familiar handwriting on a simple yet sophisticated card on top of it. Only thing written on it was, “wear this.”

You pursed your lips as you rolled your eyes, opening the box without any hesitation. And to say you were impressed at Sylus’ ability to constantly not follow rules he didn’t want to follow would be an understatement.

You scoffed as you brought the beautiful dress out of its cage. This edgelord decided to gift you with a wondrous deep red silk dress, its sweetheart neckline low enough to entice but not low enough to seduce. It accommodated for its lack of fabric in the higher chest area with puffy sleeves that you assumed were off the shoulder, catching the warm light in smooth lines. You brought it out fully, placing it against yourself and relishing at how it looked in the full-length mirror. Bottom-wise, it covered just about everything except for a rather daring slit that ended somewhere around your high thigh. Who did he think you were, a stripper? 

…Well if the money called for it—

You shook your head, carefully draping the dress on the matching chair on the other corner to freshen yourself up. You couldn’t wait to try it on. 

—--

You let out an exhale when the last curl fell from the iron, the heat kissing your bare skin. You hissed at it but solved the problem by brushing it away from your neck. Your eyes trailed towards the faint glow on your right wrist, then the golden jewelry on your vanity table, then at yourself. Hesitance was written all over your features, eyes not leaving yours in the mirror as you place a rather glimmery bracelet on to cover your wrist. You always thought the shinier something is, the more the glow would dim. Would camouflage. 

What snapped you out of your thoughts were a familiar pair of hands gently grabbing the dainty necklace right in front of you, and clasping it around your neck. Your gaze left your own to lock with his, though his eyes were focused more on your hair (or neck?) than on you. 

It wasn’t long after that that he looked back at you with an amused turn of lips. “Are you ready?” His voice reverberated in your head, as it had been a good hour or two without the presence of one, the only thing your ears had been hearing up until his entrance being simple jazz instrumentals from your bedroom.

You glanced at your feet, which were currently bare, before shaking your head. “Give me a minute—”

But before you could even do anything, Sylus knelt down, picking up one red-bottomed stiletto from the pair and slipping it on your foot with ease. To a normal person, that would’ve certainly given them a scary amount of butterflies, having a man on his knees, practically serving you by being the one to put on your shoes for you. However, your boss had done this multiple times in the past. So many times that you’d grown accustomed to it. 

“These heels aren’t that bad, (Nickname), why don’t you use them more often?” He commented, placing the other one on your other foot. You snorted, an opposition to your current elegant figure. “I barely go out. What, you want me to wear these when I’m hunting wanderers or just in the house?”

Sylus shrugged, standing up. He placed a hand on his hip as you stood up as well. Despite you wearing a good couple inches worth of heels, he towered over you somehow. “Why not?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Let’s just go.” 

—--

The moment Sylus stepped into the room, everyone’s eyes were on him. Or rather the pretty little thing linked on his arm.

Sylus’ expression remained that of indifference as he practically pranced around, and most people would assume he was showing you off. You’ve known him for long enough, though; you knew he wasn’t trying to. In fact, you assumed it was probably your stance.

Chin held up high, eyes sharply scanning the area through lazily held up eyelids, chest puffed out, shoulders pulled back, and stride confidently pompous. You were a new figure. Sure, your attitude was something the people inside of the building had seen one too many times; your position, however, was not. 

Who was this new woman beside Sylus, the leader of Onichynus? And why has she just popped up now, out of the blue? 

After a couple beats of silence, whispers erupted all around the two now most important figures of the event. And with that, a small smile ghosted on your lips. One that Sylus noticed.

“Enjoying the attention, I see,” he whispered, quiet enough for only you to hear. “Have I not been giving you enough?”

“Careful there,” you responded through a forced smile, eye twitching. “People might hear you acting like something comparable to a partner. Then I’d have a whole nother problem to deal with”

Sylus just laughed at your statement, unlinking your arms. You glanced at him, confusion clear in your expression. He leaned down, almost as if he was bowing, and you thought that that was exactly what he was about to do… until you noticed a very familiar card slotted between his pointer and middle finger.

Your eyes visibly gleamed at the sight as you gasped. “Really?”

He just shrugged, lips almost forming a pout as he straightened his posture. “Of course, if you don’t want it—”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you, Sylus?” You excitedly said, snatching the black card with the same amount of enthusiasm. He watched you memorize the numbers engraved on it (though he knew you had it burned in your retinas) with a chuckle. “Now, who sounds like a partner between the two of us?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled before changing your entire demeanor. Frankly, it was times like this that slightly intimidated Sylus, how money and wealth could easily change your mood. “I mean, thank you so much! I’ll see you in 30?”

He just nodded, amusement clear on his features. “You’ll see me in 30.”

And with that, you grinned, practically jumping in delight before bee-lining towards a protocore which glowed a beautiful pink, near nude, color. You were drawn to it from the very beginning, but didn’t want Sylus to see just how much you wanted it.

You glanced at the glow of your wrist, which was covered up by black lace gloves to avoid suspicion. It flickered softly underneath its cage, so quickly that the pulses between each flicker of light seemingly disappeared. You braced yourself, crossing your arms tightly to ground you to reality. Whenever you’d find a protocore this powerful, its memories, the things it sees, reels you in so hard, you would faint. Sylus had never seen that part of you before, though your first encounter with him was close. 

Well, it happened multiple times after that, too; you weren’t quite sure why. But after a while, it was habitual for you to feel a bit nauseous around Sylus until you would no longer feel it at all. 

This protocore’s pull was faint compared to that, but it made you falter in your footing nevertheless. You shook your head, taking a deep breath before calling one of the servers nearby. “15 million for this.”

His brows furrowed deeply. “But ma’am, this is only worth 100,000—”

“Then your pricing is foolish and incompetent. When I say something is worth 15 million, then I will buy it for 15 million. Do not doubt my decisions.”

The server froze in his place, and you could’ve sworn you saw the hair on his skin stand upright at your cold words. It almost put a smile on your otherwise apathetic face.

He bowed immediately, quickly following your orders. “Yes, ma’am.”

You nodded your head mindlessly, already striding to another pull. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, cold and… nonhuman. A wanderer maybe? No, this felt different. You felt your body stop in its place, your chest heaving as you tried to gasp for breath. Wait, calm down. You could check what this was with your wrist. But wait, how come nothing was popping up? You— You needed to kill the thing behind you; you needed to—

“Are you okay, miss?” A smooth voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you whipped your head at it. You glanced at the man’s hand, which was clearly pulled back. Almost genuine concern covered his entire face, his eyes shining with care. 

You were quiet for a couple seconds before responding. “I-I’m alright, thank you.”

The man gestured one hand out, palm facing up, as if waiting for you. Reluctantly, you gave your left hand, and he slowly brought it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. With your hand still quite close to his face, he stared at the intricate lace design of your gloves, and you felt your stomach flip. “I apologize; I did not mean to startle you. My name is Aries. I’m new here.” He admitted, his voice low enough to send your heart racing. 

You’ve never felt like this before. And it wasn’t romance you were feeling; it was something much more… forced. You held your guard up high, allowing him to treat you like this for longer. He might be a danger. 

So instead, you smiled, eyes locking with his as he stood up properly. “(Name). A pleasure to meet you, Aries. So, what brings you to a place like this?”

Aries sheepishly laughed, clearly nervous about the entire situation. You knew he fancied you, especially with the way his face was beet red. “Ah, my— my uncle encouraged me to go with him, even if I didn’t want to.”

You gasped, eyes lighting up when you finally realized that there was someone just like you here. “Me too!”

He tilted his head, brows scrunching together. “...Your… uncle dragged you here?”

A small stifle of laughter bubbled in your throat before you grinned, shaking your head. “Not my uncle. Just… a friend.”

Sylus’ eyes never left you as you strutted around the auction, most especially when he noticed you conversing with a man he had never seen before. He opened his mouth to ask you a question about him, a bit of basic information perhaps, but he immediately caught his mistake. Right. He was so used to having you by his side that he’d completely forgotten.

“I see you’re eyeing my nephew, Aries.” A man, at least a decade or two older than Sylus, approached him, his voice irritating the leader of Onichynus on the spot. He barely glanced at the shorter male, trying to figure out his name. He usually had you whisper it to him. Ugh, what was his name again? It was French for something… Chaton? Chateau? No, he just called this guy ‘castle’. It was a C- something… 

Ah, Ciel.

“Ciel,” Sylus said, boredness crystal clear in his voice. The older man laughed —a forced “rich” one, at that— before responding. “Ah, and here I thought you forgot my name. Yes, I—”

“What do you want?” Ciel flinched at the bluntness of Sylus’ tone, but answered him nevertheless. “So, what’s the deal? Who’s that pretty little minx you brought today? I’ve never seen you bring a plus one to these events before.”

Sylus’ face scrunched up slightly at Ciel’s words in disgust, but his eyes never left the conversing pair. “And why should I tell you?”

Ciel elbowed Sylus as if they were buddies, making the taller man grunt in distaste. “Oh come on, mate! Though she was so cold to everyone when she entered, she seems too bubbly to have been in the N109 Zone for a long while. Where’d you get her from, hmm?” Sylus’ brows raised slightly when Aries accidentally dropped a pen he somehow had (why the hell did he have a pen at an auction?) and you stopped him from getting it, bending down to pick it up. Your front was right in front of Sylus, which in turn meant right in front of Ciel. 

He whistled, grinning at the view you just accidentally gave him. “Now I see why you keep her around. Come on, Sy, mind letting a dear old friend borrow her for the night—”

“I’ve given you many chances to back off, mate. Too many as it seems.” Sylus’ grip on Ciel’s shoulder surprised him, and with how he winced and let out a small whimper of pain, it seemed as if Sylus was slowly getting angrier each second. “I’m being generous today, since it’s not ideal for me to get scolded as of the moment. But if you ever lay a finger on her in the future, I will make sure you never see the light of day. If she doesn’t beat me to it, that is. Understood?”

He could feel the atmosphere around them chill with Ciel’s fear as he nodded vigorously. “Y-Yes, Sy—

“Try again.”

“Yes, sir.”

—--

You sucked in a breath as you watched Ciel and Sylus converse. The moment you noticed your boss’ eyes on you, they flickered away, towards his holster. When he glanced at you again, you shook your head slowly, and you almost cracked a grin when he huffed. It was barely noticeable, but you knew that look anywhere.

Aries seemed to be looking at them, too. “Yeesh,” he grimaced. “They are not getting along.”

Your head turned to the man you had just met, and your brows scrunched in confusion. “Who?”

“Oh,” Aries nervously grinned, clearly embarrassed and ashamed. Ah, you knew already. “The one on the left, h-he’s my uncle.”

Ciel has a nephew? How come I never knew that? You faked surprise, mouth turning into an “o”. “Oh, that makes more sense. In that case, I think I’ve heard about your uncle before. He does trade in… firearms, correct?” You didn’t want to disclose your relation with Sylus yet; it might backfire on you in the long run.

Aries’ eyes lit up at the mention of “firearms”. “Yes! His newest model was actually one of his best works if I do say so myself. Though I might be a bit biased if I say that because I made the blueprint—” He cut himself off, hand to his mouth. “I was rambling, wasn’t I?”

You giggled at his reaction before shaking your head, playfully hitting his arm. “No, it’s fine! So you work with Ciel, then?”

“How do you know his name is Ciel?”

“I know some figures. And your uncle’s pretty famous here.” You saved, internally cursing yourself at the slip up. You glanced at Aries to see if he believed you, and with that smile on his face it seemed as if he did. Thank God.

—--

Sylus could feel his jaw tightening when he saw you practically flirting with that man. He knew how you were towards wealthy people; hell, you were like that to him a week or two after your deal with him. You were hitting that man’s arm playfully for his money. Totally.

But Sylus could give you whatever that man could possibly offer tenfold.

Wait, why did he care again? Right, he didn’t.

With Ciel finally gone, grumbling to himself as he left, Sylus was able to scan what exactly the auction was putting up for sale. Huh, just some gaudy protocores. It seems as if they finally ran out of things to sell.

His eyes went back at you, and his brows raised up in slight curiosity when you eye a protocore. Sylus watched as you walked towards it, and almost staggered on your footing. With furrowed brows, he walked towards you. Whether it was from concern or something else, he wasn’t quite sure. 

“7 million. Wrap it up.” You demanded, exuding an air of sophistication. The air around you was cold, but that was one of the things Sylus liked about you. “Just 7 million? Do you really want people thinking I’m broke around here?”

You tilted your head slightly, though your eyes never left the protocore. After a while, you shook your head. “And do you really want people thinking you don’t know how to strategize your finances? It’s only worth 7 million at max.”

He just shrugged at you. “Alright, then.”

Once you had the two protocores you needed, you took a deep breath. The tug you felt between the two was too much, and you could not extract information from them now. Plus with how weak you were beginning to feel because of having to keep up socially and physically, Sylus’ pull was getting worse by the second.

“What, tired from spending all my money?” Sylus teased, though even with his words, you could feel the soft heat radiating from his palm on the small of your back, aiding you to the car. You laughed humorlessly, not having any more energy after everything that happened today. “This isn’t even a dent in your wallet. And besides, we’ve been here for a couple hours; my social battery is dead.”

Sylus’ chuckle filled your entire brain, and it may be your exhaustion, but it left your cheeks flushed either way. “Speaking of your social life, who was that… man you were talking to?”

Oh, that left you intrigued. You smirked as he opened the door of the car for you, and you raised a brow. “Why, you jealous?” He scoffed as you sat down, and he closed the door, taking his sweet, sweet time to get to the driver’s seat. “What makes you think I’m jealous?” 

You pursed your lips as your boss started the car, tilting your head. “Maybe the fact that you asked?”

He just rolled his eyes at that, lazily removing one hand from the wheel and resting it on your seat to reverse the car. Sylus looked back, giving you a wonderful shot of his side profile. “Well,” oh dear, his voice was close to your ear. Nonchalantly, you turned to look at him. “For your information, I asked because he’s new— I’m going to assume. I hadn’t seen his face until today.”

You huffed, feeling your cheeks flush at his reversing. That’s such a weird thing to get flustered about, you thought to yourself. “Fine, then. His name is Aries, and… I don’t know anything about him.”

At your words, Sylus’ brows knit together in slight confusion and alarm in his face. “What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’? Use your wrist.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, crossing your arms and your legs as he began to drive. “I tried, but I couldn’t. For some reason, there wasn’t any dirt I could pick up on him. Only info I know is because he told me, like how Ciel is his uncle.”

“I knew that.”

“I saw you two speaking. Had a lovely chat?”

He merely grunted as a way of saying, ‘no, what the fuck are you talking about?’ And at that, you giggled. You kept your eyes on the road, though you slowly felt your lids drooping. “Anyway, he seems… intriguing. He works with Ciel in firearms sometimes. Plus, he asked me out.”

… “He asked you out? Where? When?”

“Oh, now you really sound jealous.” You grinned, leaning onto the seat belt so that you could use it as a cradle for your cheek. “I’m not telling you; you’re going to get Mephisto to follow us. He’s cute; I’ll give him a chance. Now,” you over-exaggerated your yawn, stretching slightly in your seat. “If you don’t mind, though I don’t really care if you do, I will sleep. Very tired. Good night.”

Sylus stayed silent for a moment, and just when he was about to respond to you, you were fast asleep the moment he turned to look at you. He shouldn’t be jealous. Er, was this jealousy? Maybe it was overprotection; Sylus was never keen about sharing what was his. And technically, given how you were his right hand woman, you were his. But then again, you going out with someone shouldn’t be his business, especially if said someone could be a valuable asset to Onichynus. But it didn’t make that uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach settle.

—--

“She’s cute, isn’t she?”

“Uh, yeah, she is. Are- are you sure I have to do this? She seems like a nice gal.”

“Shush! If we strike a deal with Onichynus, the collaboration would give us so many benefits, my boy! And wouldn’t you like to have a pretty little something by your side at the same time?”

“...I don’t know; I thought she and the leader were—”

“She and the leader are nothing. She’s probably just some whore he took pity on. Now, don’t ever doubt this plan again, okay?”

“...”

“Aries.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

[andersonfilms]

Abbys reaction to you telling her how hot she is while making out: "you're so hot I can't stand it it drives me crazy." - maybe the first time or one of the first times

ALL MY LOVE IS FREE

tags: eighteen+, lesbians obsessed with each other, had to post during lesbian visibilty week like c'mon???, just a big bag of fluff packaged with light steam, abby being a nervous goofball, sfw with suggestive themes.

an. sorry i kinda disappeared with posts. new collab is taking over my brain. but wanted to at least post something. can't wait for y'all to get a taste. until then, i'll be finishing the requests in my inbox (hopefully). with all the love, ray.

the end of your first date with abby marks a colossal milestone, especially for the two of you. the moment almost seemed monumental. taking one year of abby’s pining, six months of flirting and six months of tiptoeing while you were with someone else. respectfully, waiting until a month after the breakup, she asks you out.

unimaginable expectations abby had before going into tonight, but all she had to offer it seems was her nerves. god, she was acting like a dumb, mumbling, dork tonight. saying the first thought coming to mind, but it makes you laugh. when abby nearly eats it on the sidewalk, tripping over a crack of grout in the cement. your soft angelic voice taking her out for a moment, the only thing centering her from having a meltdown. 

“baby, are you alright? be careful, honey.” there it is, angelic. “wouldn’t want you to fall.” the first pet names hurled her way by you, making her heartbeat faster than she could keep up with. you cut her off at her knees, ensuring you are the only person she could ever want.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

it’s pretty obvious who was in control the entire night. if the two of you are friends, this night has a year of expectations, hopes, goals to meet and abby felt like she was failing. deeply.

as she walks you up to the front door, she knows the only thing she accomplished was letting you down. nothing went the way she thought it was going to. everything felt off. worst of all, your silence snuffs her out, completely.

you grab her hands, pulling her up the stairs with you. the collar feels too hot, tense, off. delicate fingers playing with the collar before you unclasp the buttons, keeping down before you move to her chest, placing your hand on abby’s inconsistent heartbeat.

“can i? s’tense, need you to loosen up for me. alright?” abby nods, accepting you can read her like the back of your hand. she just doesn’t want you to stop touching her. “get out of this head of yours. s’just me and you, no one else.” your nimble fingers pop the first three buttons, revealing her freckled chest, dipping into her sternum, giving you a delicious preview. she takes a deep breath, and you believe it’s the first one she’s allowed herself since she showed up with a bouquet of flowers in hand. 

“‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin tonight. i just— it’s you. y’know? i’ve never wanted someone like this. been friends for ages and this is just everything. you are everything. i’ll never live with myself if i let you slip through my fingers.” her heartbeat calms under your touch the longer abby speaks, bringing a warmness to your own. “don’t worry about all of it. you’re not going to. i won’t let you.” 

“okay.” abby says as she gets lost in the light in your eyes. the fire visible behind yours. the way she’s looking at you? fuck. unimaginable desire — all for you. it almost seems too good to be true. like you don’t deserve it. waiting for the pin to drop, all the misery drowning you with it. “did you have a good time tonight?” 

“yes baby, i did.” you smirk as she inches forward, closing you into your front door. back pressed against it, her small breasts pressed to your chest, her free hand extended, next to your head as it lays flat on the door.

“s’good. wouldn’t want to kiss you if the date was bad.” all the confidence is back. the abby who flirted with you shamelessly for months on end. knowing you’re happy is enough for her. it’s all she needs to know to let the loser in her fall to ashes. but you taking the reins for a moment, does something so visceral inside her. she nearly doesn’t know how to act until her instincts kick in. 

she’ll satisfy you — just in the way she knows how. 

“what are y—” abby pressed her body weight into you, strong hips pinning you against the door using one of her hands to pin both of yours above your head. you’re whimpering, signaling your shock but the whine omitting from your lips tells abby your pussy is shocked. soaked.

“doing what i should have done months ago.” her pink plump lips meet yours, taking complete control over you. but you welcome it with open arms. she grunts in your mouth causing you to gasp as abby’s tongue enters your mouth. massaging it with yours in a swift battle for dominance. 

it’s too much but also not enough. you’re grinding against her, your crotch kissing hers as you lift a leg, wrapping it around her waist. she continues kissing you like her entire life depends on it. not letting you feel anything but her. she’ll be your everything and you’re not leaving until you understand it just as much as her. “abs—” you mumble in her mouth, abby relinquishes the tight grip on her hands.

immediately your hands are woven in her hair. tugging at the golden hair, as you try to pull her closer to you, if it was even possible. but the two of you have to come up for air, abby the first one to break as she chuckles at both of your heaving chests. 

“fuck, you’re so hot, baby. can’t stand it.” you peck her lips softly. admiring how puffy and swollen they look from her ministrations. god, you want her to devour you once again. “‘m, drives me crazy.” you admit, taking in the intoxicating smirk on her face. you’re not made into a fumbling mess easily. the both of you know it. that’s how abby knows it in her bones, she has you. fuck, she can’t ever imagine letting go. 

[zkvry]

Are You Laughing at My Brother? | Shelby Brothers x Sister!Reader

Summary : Y/N is just a year younger than John Shelby, though her immense instinct to protect her older brothers against their enemies reveals that the Shelby name is not to be trifled with.

Warnings : cussing, misogyny, death threats, guns, descriptions of violence, racism

Additional Information : > takes place in early season 1 ; Billy Kimber era (minor spoilers) > written in third person perspective (she/her) > 847 words | 6 minutes

Author's Note : decided to use some gifs along the way, might be distracting for your reading - I apologise. My first work on here, please let me know how you find it! Enjoy <3

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you laughing, at my brother?" She speaks, appearing from behind the bar. For the first time since they've dared to enter the Garrison, Billy Kimber and his two men flinched slightly at her sternness. This only lasted a split second. Still, it didn't go unnoticed.

Billy Kimber flashes a cocksure smirk, pleased at the presence of something less dreadful than matter at hand. "And what do we have here,"

John lets out a humourless laugh. "I'd be careful with that one. She's feisty," He warns Billy Kimber with an all-knowing look.

Billy Kimber rakes his eyes over her physique. "This is no place for a whore - even a pretty one at that," He tuts mockingly, shaking his head.

Arthur inhales deeply as he fights the very last nerve to not cut the cheeky bastard across the face - to not slice his eyes for looking at his dearest little sister. The word 'whore' bounces around in his head. Arthur's lips twitch, knuckles turning white as he grips onto the arm rest for restraint.

He was waiting for a signal - a sound or nod of approval from Tommy or Her. Hell, he thinks, even John could command it and he would bloody do it. No questions asked.

Nonetheless, She makes her presence known. Almost like clockwork - one of the Shelby brothers stand and holds out his chair. In this moment, it was John. He extends his hand and escorts her to his previously occupied seat with care. Recklessly, he drags a chair for himself from a nearby table beside them, and plops down.

Billy Kimber clears his throat wearily but still as arrogant as before. "Right, he's the oldest, you're the thickest. I'm told the boss is called tommy so it can't be this woman you lot here seem to worship. Then I'm guessing that's you, cause you're looking at me up and down like I'm a fucking tart, " He spits out.

Thomas finally unclenches his jaw, the throbbing pain creeping onto him. He puts on a calm façade. Unmoving, he looks to Her direction.

Only when he saw She hadn't intervene, he spoke. "I want to know what you want. And which one am I talking to, which one of you is the boss?" Thomas breathes out as he takes a puff from a cigarette. His finger darting around from Billy Kimber to the two men that accompanied him.

Billy Kimber shoots up from his seat, knocking it to the ground. "I'm the fucking boss, alright!? Enough parley, you fixed the race without my permission. You fucking Gypsy scum. I run the races. You fixed one of 'em, so I'm going to have you shot against the post!" He declares - finger pointing threateningly to Thomas.

"Pick it up," She leans forward onto the table, hands intertwined infront of her.

Billy Kimber looks at her flabbergasted, "What?" He furrows his eyebrows, offended.

She stands slowly, the men around her straightening their backs in alert at her movement. She stares at him, unfriendly.

"I said," She continues, leaning forward once more, arms stretched out on the sides of the table, dominating the space at the table. "Pick. my chair. up," She repeats.

Billy Kimber remains stunned, seemingly not knowing what to do. The audacity of such a woman to demand him to pick up a chair? He was shocked to say the least, and outrageously insulted.

Ready to argue and humiliate her, Billy Kimber opens his mouth but She was quicker.

"You swayed your arse in here like you own the place. Guns out like you're flaunting fuck knows what," She speaks fluently, rage settling in. "We fixed your race, you put a bullet in my ceiling. That's fair, but then you had to run that fucking mouthpiece of yours didn't ya eh?"

"Want to put a bullet in my brother's head, is that it?" Like a predator, She stalks closer to him.

As She approaches, one of Billy Kimber's men crouched down and picked up the fallen chair. Just as the chair was upright, She gathered her strength and slammed Kimber's shoulders down onto the seat and held him still.

"Why don't we put one in yours?" She whispers into his ear, patting harshly on his right shoulder.

In an instant, Kimber's two men draw their guns.

The Shelby brothers lurch forward, in efforts to protect their sister infront of them, moving to draw their own guns as well.

However, the men who were supposedly loyal to Billy Kimber pointed their guns at the man himself. A sinister smile creeps onto Her face.

"Let's do proper business, shall we Mister Kimber? Starting off with your races, " She declares, moving to lower the guns that have been drawn by her brothers and the two men working for Her.

She turns abruptly to face Kimber. "Though, they wouldn't be your races any longer after we're done here, would they? " Her face suggestive of diplomacy, but voice laced with threat.

[st4rr-girrl]

Saviors

summary; When you have nowhere to stay- and you're falling tired- you turn to the Crescent Hotel to sleep. You roomed next to four people, and they help you when something traumatic happens in your hotel room.

warnings: Cussing, hella paranormal activity, major? injuries, anxiety attack. (i changed a few things from the video tho)

(a/n this post is kind of ass and yall keep liking it so ilysm but this is so shitty lmaoo i promise my writing had a glow-up)

pairing: colby brock x fem reader

Now playing; see how I circle / labyrinth

Up next; oblivion -grimes

Genesis-grimes

The sky started to darken, mirroring my negative mood. I sighed, feeling fatigue slowly start to take over my body.

Turning my black car's driving wheel, I drove into the 'Crescent Hotel" parking lot. I sighed, stepping out of the car and opening the trunk.

I grabbed an outfit, and shoved it into a bag before grabbing my purse and locking the car up.

I glanced up at the balcony of a room, seeing a dark figure stare at me intensely. My eyes widened and I felt goosebumps form on my skin.

The night was dark and cold, forcing a shiver make its way up my spine. I crossed my arms over my chest, as I shivered in my white dress. I approached the hotel doors, and quickly made my way inside, protecting myself from the cold misty air that surrounded me.

I walked in, feeling a heavy amount of energy fall onto my shoulders. I frowned deeply, before spotting an adorable black cat seated on the couch. I walked up to it and pet its soft fur, feeling my heart become warm. A smile grew on my face as I temporarily forgot about the dark, sad and longing feeling that lingered in the air, before walking up to the front desk.

"Hi, can I get a room for one night, please?" I offered a kind smile to the lady seated behind the counter. She returned the smile, and handed me a room key. 'Room 201'

"You'll be staying at room 201. That'll be 130$." My eyes widened at the price, but I was desperate for sleep. I opened my purse and grabbed my wallet, pulling out 150$.

"Keep the change." I smiled, collecting my stuff before heading up the spiraled stairs.

I was walking down a hallway, when I heard a faint "Damn baby! Back it up on over here, if ya will." In an accent. I turned around, fear gripping onto my chest. There was nobody there. I was completely alone. I frowned deeply, before rushing back to the stairs.

It took me a while, but I finally made it to my hotel room. I sighed happily, despite the feeling of sadness surrounding me.

I noticed a brunette boy leaving hotel room 202 and I smiled kindly at him. He returned the smile, as my eyes wandered to the camera located in his left hand. I tilted my head and raised a brow a little bit.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He laughed. "I'm a youtuber. Me and my friends are recording a video."

I was still confused. "What's so special about this place?" I looked around. I acknowledged the negative and sad energy around me, but shrugged it off.

"You don't know?" He asked me curiously.

"Know what?" I was a lot more confused now.

"This hotel is haunted." My eyes widened. it makes sense now. The figure on the balcony and the sad energy around here. No wonder.

"That makes sense." I shrugged, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

"Why? Did you see something?" He asked me, concern swirling behind his blue eyes.

"Yeah I saw a figure on a balcony, but i just thought it was a person. Though it was creepy enough to give me goosebumps. It also feels sad. And angry here. Like there some sort of longing feeling. I also got catcalled by something that wasn't there. " I explained, giggling a bit at the end.

"Do you mind if i record you explaining that? If not that's alright. But it would be great to let the fans know."

"Sure, Mr. Popular." I smirked teasingly. He rolled his eyes playfully and turned on the camera and angled it at me.

"Okay so tell us what happened again...?" He trailed, searching for something.

"Y/n." I smiled.

"Okay so tell us what happened, Y/n."

"Soo, when I arrived here, I had no clue it was haunted until this handsome stranger told me." I smiled and winked jokingly. "But before I came in here, I saw a figure standing on a balcony and it was just.... staring at me. It gave me goosebumps. And after that, the second I stepped foot into the hotel the energy surrounding me felt, sad. Like previous people here were longing for something. And a bit of anger was hidden beneath the longing and sadness. I also got catcalled, but when I turned around I was alone. Whatever happened here must've been pretty bad." I explained for a second time but in more detail. "I still don't know what happened here, I just know that it's haunted."

I smiled at the boy behind the camera. "I'm colby, by the way." He mirrored my smile.

"Thanks for letting me know what I was getting myself into, Colby." I giggled as he put the camera down.

"Yeah, Sure." He laughed, his deep voice sending butterflies to my stomach. Heat rises to my cheek before he continued. "If you need anything me and my friend, Sam, will be in here. And maybe our other two friends. You're also welcome to join us, we're gonna be ghost hunting."

"Yeah, I'll consider it." I smiled kindly once more. "Thanks, Colby."

"No problem." he waved, returning the smile before walking down the hall. I opened my hotel room, rushing in and throwing my bag on my bed.

I sighed happily, finally being able to sleep. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, and I shivered a bit before trying to push the thought to the back of my mind.

I changed out of my white dress, and replaced it for pajama bottoms and a long sleeve shirt with holes for my thumbs.

I put fresh socks on before turning out the light and quickly hopping into the big bed.

I saw something in the corner, just before fatigue took over my body.

--

'Wake up' A females voice whispered in my ear.

I shot out of bed quickly, my eyes wide. Sweat dripped down the side of my head as I looked around my room. "Hello??" I said out loud. No response.

I shrugged it off as my imagination, and tried to fall back asleep.

—

I rubbed my eyes, tiredly sitting up.

“Why do I keep waking up.” I whispered to myself, picking up a clock that rested on a nightstand to the left of me.

“3:33.” I read out loud. “Isn’t that an Angel number?”

I shrugged it off, before I heard a mumbling. My head shot up and stared into the darkness that lie before me.

I squinted, trying to see into the black fog. I saw a figure. Staring at me. Menacingly. My eyes widened as I froze in fear.

A faint “What do you want?” Tore from my parted lips.

It didn’t respond, to nobody’s surprise, yet still stood there.

I sat in the king sized bed, slowly building up to courage to make a run for it.

When the courage was built, I leapt out of bed and ran for the door, only to be flung away from it.

I hit the wall, with a loud ‘thud,’ before landing on the floor.

Tears welled up in my eyes after I groaned in pain. My back was definitely gonna be bruised.

I crawled for the door as fast as I could, but got violently dragged by an invisible force. I dragged my nails against the carpet.

Once it let me go I quickly rushed to stand up but got aggressively pushed against the wall. The side of my face slammed into the wall, as an unbearable pain shot through my cheek at the violent contact. A Bible flew through the air and hit me in the face. Blood dripped down my nose as I cried in pain. I heard loud knocking on my door and my eyes widened.

“Y/n!? Are you okay?!” A familiar voice shouted.

I tried to get to the door but cried out when a sharp, stinging pain shot through my back.

I sobbed, feeling myself get dragged once more before the entity let go. I jumped up and ran to the door, flinging it open. I was met with four concerned faces, three of them being un-familiar.

I sobbed into my hands, as the traumatic event played over and over in my head.

“What the fuck happened?!” Colby asked.

“Are you okay?!” The blonde boy next to him asked.

“Th-there was something in there!!” I cried out as a blonde girl rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Come to our room for a second. We’ll help you and you can tell us everything.” A black haired girl said, her brows furrowed in worry.

I nodded, following the two girls as the two boys checked my hotel room for anyone.

We entered their hotel room and I sat down on the red sofa.

The blonde girl brought back a tissue and a cold water bottle.

I used the tissue for my nose, after giving a small thanks. I placed the water bottle on the huge bruise on my cheek.

“I’m kris.”

“Celina. And the other boys are Sam and Colby.” Celina said.

“Th-thank you guys.. so much.” You smiled gratefully.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“I-I don’t know… there was this thing and it-it threw me around like I was a fucking rag doll.” I joked a bit, before wincing from the pain radiating on my back.

“I-I think it scratched my back.” I added. Colby came over to me and asked if he could raise my shirt. I nodded and turned around while he lifted it up.

Though I couldn’t see, they all had wide eyes and opened mouths.

“Holy shit!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n do you mind if I record this?” He asked kindly, okay with either answer.

“You can, I don’t mind, it just hurts really bad.” I said in a pained voice. “Colby can you take a picture of it and show me?” I asked softly.

He said yes before snapping a picture of it. I stared at the picture in shock, a giant bruise on my side and three, long, bloody scratch marks starting from my upper back and ending right before the waistband of my shorts.

“Holy shit” i mimicked sam just as he started recording my injuries. I turned around and showed the rest.

“Do you wanna stay in our room for the rest of the night?” Colby offered.

“Yes please.” I said, a pleading look lingered in my eyes. “I don’t wanna go back into that room.” Tears welled up in my eyes as Celina and Kris both side-hugged me.

“It’s ok, Y/n you don’t have to.” Kris said, her brows furrowed.

“You’re safe with us. Especially the boys cause they’re a lot stronger than us.” Celina joked, attempting to lighten the mood. I laughed a long, wiping my tears.

“Thanks guys.” I said gratefully.

“Anytime.” The group postponed further exploration of the building so they could make sure I was alright.

Celina and Kris called it a night, heading to their own room to sleep or try to contact anything.

I started to get sleepy while Colby was treating my wounds. “I’m tired.” I admitted.

“I’m almost done, just try to stay up for one more minute.” He applied ointment to the scratches and ice to the bruises.

I was definitely gonna tell the hotel about this in the morning. Even though some people wouldn’t believe me, it was worth a shot.

Once Colby was done in informed me of it and I crawled under the sheets and lied in the middle of the bed.

Sam and Colby lied on either side of me, and yet I still unconsciously cuddled closer to Colby.

“Goodnight.” I sighed, feeling safe with the two boys I had only just met.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

—

The end.

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 22: “Wait, you love me?” “I always have”

(alternative to Heirloom from last year’s favorites list)

A/N: apologies if this is shit, post con ghost is sad and drained today. Also, I watched a very specific episode of X-Men ‘97 that made me want to write happy Gambit so here that is. - mod ghost

Ship: Remy LeBeau x Mutant GN!Reader

Summary: After a particularly nasty fight, Remy lands in the Mansion’s Medical Lab on painkillers

You and Remy usually weren’t on separate missions, but on this occasion, you were and he had gotten hurt. So, like any person who cared about their boyfriend as deeply as you do, you rushed back to the Mansion to make sure he was okay.

He was asleep when you got there, a thick bandage wrapped around his forehead and the blanket tucked up to his chin. You stepped closer to him until you were at his bedside, the steady beeping of the EKG oddly comforting in this situation.

“He’ll be fine, dear, just needs some rest.” Hank assured you, patting your shoulder before leaving the two of you alone. He seemed to be able to tell that you needed it, to just be with Remy.

You sat with him for hours, one of your hands holding his and the other slowly rubbing back and forth on his chest while being careful of the bandage that was strapped there.

“Petite, my partner’s gonna have a word or two wit’ you if they see you rubbin’ up on me like dat.” Gambit spoke up suddenly, looking up at you from where he lay with his dark eyes.

You pause to chuckle as you realize what he said, shaking your head at him, “I am your partner.” There was a brief moment of silence as he looked you over, his EKG suddenly getting much faster and louder then slowing back to its normal pace as he calmed back down with a quiet utterance of “Oh…”

“You’re lucky I love you.” You couldn’t contain your laughter, your hand moving from his chest to his hair to gently card through it.

“Wait, you love me?” He emphasized your words, realizing the gravity of what you’d said before even you. Which was somewhat incredible, given his current state. It was the first time you’d ever said that to him.

You didn’t want to freak him out right now, though, so you nodded as your hand continued its trek through his long red hair, “Damn straight, I always have.” You confirmed, leaning forward to gently kiss his forehead, “but go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. Beast’s orders that you get rest.”

“Forget the ol’ coot right now, chère, I have more important matters on my mind.” He grabbed your shoulder before you could fully pull back from kissing his forehead, tugging you back down to press your lips to his. It was soft and sweet, a contrast to how he usually kissed you when he’d arrive home from a mission, though it was brief since he was still aching. “Gambit loves you very much, chère. Remember it.”

“I will, swamp rat. But only if you get some sleep.” You teased him, covering his eyes with your hand to make him laugh.

“Alright, okay, fine. C’mere, though.” Remy tugged on your arm until you were laying down beside him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he adjusted the blanket to compensate both of you.

“Remy—“ You tried to stop him, but eventually gave in as he cut off any protests you were about to give him.

“Don’ worry about Hank, I’ll take it up wit him. I missed my chère and he’ll have to deal wit dat.” Gambit tutted, pressing a kiss to your forehead just like you had his and kept you held close to his side as the pain meds eventually won out. Pushing him back to sleep and getting the rest he so badly needed. You didn’t disturb him, letting him rest and slowly falling asleep yourself as you rested your head against his chest.

[genericpuff]

i find it funny that one of rachel’s drawings of herself in the afterword that just went up is just fully persephone. is that something she does a lot?

Alright so I've been making it a general rule for myself to like, not harp on Rachel in any way outside of LO as much because frankly the horse is dead now and there's not much left to say outside of what can be analyzed in hindsight. I think despite everything I have to say about her and her work, she still deserves to get away from this nonsense and I don't wanna spend eternity hovering over her shoulder.

But the afterword was posted within the LO series and is clearly meant for readers of LO in the functioning of being an afterword so let's just call it fair game LOL

I will say, on the whole, it does feel very honest and sentimental and I can respect Rachel for taking the time to write out and illustrate her afterword in a way that was personal to both her and her fans. I can understand why she went at it from the angle that she did and I'm not gonna fault her for that.

But there's also something that feels deeply... disingenuous about her approach right from the starting gun. I will say, before I continue, that I'm well aware I am biased towards Rachel as a creator, and I fully acknowledge that I could very well be reading too much into things. This is just my opinion, take it with mountains of salt.

I can get looking back on your own childhood, your past self, whatever, and going "see! it all got better!" because sure! For a lot of creators like Rachel, it must be wild to look back on where they came from and there's a lot of sentimentality on expressing that through an afterword like this where she reflects on where she came from. Though she STILL didn't acknowledge her other comics outside of LO, I can understand if she wants to leave those skeletons in the closet.

But I feel like her drawing herself as a child who's being given an Eisner by her adult self and all that just feels like some gross attempt to disarm any criticism of her because "don't make fun of me, I'm just a sad lonely baby girl!"

She's not a child. Child Rachel didn't grossly misappropriate Greek myth into their own self-indulged vanity project. Child Rachel didn't claim herself a folklorist of a culture's works only to bastardize them completely. Child Rachel didn't create a hostile environment within her fanbase by bullying anyone who she perceived as a threat, sneaking into critical spaces to try and cause trouble, and writing her own clapbacks into her comic. Child Rachel didn't claim to be challenging misogyny and purity culture only to reinforce misogyny and purity culture through her own self-insert baby-virgin-gets-rescued-by-rich-tycoon power fantasy that regularly glorified abuse towards women and the lower class.

30-almost-40-year-old Rachel did though.

At best it comes across as really cringe sentimentality from a Greek-weeb (heh, greeboo) and goes to show how much Rachel inserted herself into Greek myth without ever absorbing its messages or cultural contexts, it was all about her and her feelings as a sad New Zealand girl with dyslexia who thought Persephone's story was about another sad girl being rescued from her "horrible childhood".

At worst it's an active attempt to play on people's heartstrings by drawing herself as a child who people will naturally not want to criticize. I don't want to assume she's doing it intentionally, I really don't want to leave her afterword on a bad foot, as I can definitely understand as both a creator and a person who struggled with learning disabilities in their own childhood how and why she wants to pay homage to her past and where she came from... but let's just say, as someone who's also gotten way too "lost in the sauce" concerning personal self-reflective projects, I think there's a lot to say about how this confirms that Rachel made LO entirely for herself, about herself, without any actual intention to respect the original myths, because she never truly separated them from herself when she was a child. And, in my humble opinion as someone who has Been There with the self-insert OC's and self-reflective angsty plotlines, I can fully attest to the fact that that's not fucking healthy. Even with personal projects, you NEED to learn to get your head out of the sauce, you NEED to learn to objectively separate yourself from the narrative so the story doesn't fall apart under your own hubris and ego, you NEED to learn to draw a line if you want to have any sort of identity as a human being outside of what you make for people. And that's with just normal original stories, this was a story based on Greek myth which doesn't belong to her.

And this goes for a lot of the things she's said and done in the past, so much of her own "sources" even are tethered to things that she read / watched in her childhood and only vaguely remembers, as if she never mentally left her childhood at all, which just... if the point was to highlight her past and the traumas she went through and how they contributed to her present, an Eisner isn't going to validate those experiences. And drawing attention to her past through the lens of her childhood self absolutely 100% does not absolve her of the negative effect her work has had on the modern Greek myth zeitgeist nor the things she's said and done as a 38 year old woman who should absolutely know better.

The community she entered and took from will forever remain changed by her influence and taking, in many ways not for the better. She has the privilege of walking away and never having to think about it again, with all the awards and accolades that were bought for her, the bravado that she built around being a "folklorist" with zero credentials, and the platform she was given over many other creators struggling to even be heard.

That "place" she claims to have now was built entirely on inserting herself into another culture's works and doing nothing but taking, taking, taking, while offering nothing in return but vanity and lip service. That "place" was paid for and brought to you by Webtoons.

[nebuliias]

Your probably busy with your own life but is it alright if I could request reader being the younger sibling of Sunday and Robin

Do you know the scene where Robin gets 'killed'? what if instead of Robin it was the reader? how would Sunday and Robin react to the news of their younger sibling getting 'killed'?

Thank you for your time and have a great day/noon/night!!

SYNOPSIS. . . With the Charmony Festival nearing by the day, the revered Halovian siblings start getting anxious when their kin hasn’t been heard of for days.

CHARACTERS FEATURED. . . sunday and robin

CW: hurt/no comfort (I tried), gn and sibling! reader, they’re your biological older siblings, potential spoilers, platonic, like one mention of Gopher Wood, reader is aged 16 and a Nameless

— A/N’s note: HIIII EVERYONE. wow i actually posted something since who knows how long LMAO. so sorry for lack of updates, motivation has been very low and dry lately. anyways NEW FORMAT everyone

The air in Dewlight Pavilion was thick with worry and tension as the Charmony Festival’s date approached. The legendary siblings, Sunday and Robin, were together in the study room, their faces betraying their concern.

Their precious youngest sibling—basically, you—had promised yesterday to pay a visit in Moment of Morning Dew since you haven’t seen them for so long, considering your occupation as a Nameless.

Normally, Sunday, your protective older brother, would let your delays slide—if only it wasn’t for the fact that you were three hours late.

As for Robin, she nervously combed her fingers through her hair while adjusting her dainty neck pieces. “Brother, perhaps you should sit down for awhile? You’ve been pacing back and forth for awhile. Maybe they’re just visiting some shop or strolling—”

“Robin, it’s been three long hours,” he abruptly stated. “I’m pretty sure they’re not strolling around at some random park in the Dreamscape. They’re always punctual, you know that!” The man sighed, eventually sitting down beside his younger sister.

Poor Sunday, he was visibly anxious and worried. He plucked at several loose hair strands and feathers from the wings by his ears. Ever the neat perfectionist, it was ironic to see him in such a distressed state. But Robin couldn’t blame him.

It had been a pretty long time after all…

Just when she was about to excuse herself to use to the restroom, a Bloodhound guard came bursting through the grand wooden doors, a manilla folder in his sweaty hand.

“Ah, Mr. Sunday..! Oh, and hello, Miss Robin,” he panted. “My deepest apologies for interrupting whatever was happening, but I have urgent news to report.”

Sunday rapidly approached the man. “What happened? Hold on, is this about..?”

“Yes,” the Bloodhound confirmed. “Another person has fallen victim to ‘Death.’ We’ve gathered enough information, but I’m afraid you’ll be displeased who said person was.”

There was a moment of silence as Sunday split the folder open, revealing three sheets of paper. His hand trembled ever so slightly as he picked up a sheet, already thinking the worst.

Please, don’t let it be who I think it is.

Robin, who was peering over his shoulder, audibly gasped, stumbling back with a gloved hand at her mouth, muffling the incoming sobs. “No.. No, it can’t be!”

The Bloodhound bowed deeply, his face contorted in distress. “My condolences, Mr. Sunday and Miss Robin, but Y/N.. was killed by the Memory Zone Meme.”

The siblings stared blankly at the papers spread out on the desk.

•••

Name: Y/N L/N

Family: Gopher Wood, Dreammaster and adoptive father | Sunday, Oak Family Head and older brother | Robin, cosmic superstar and older sister.

Age: 16

Affliation: Nameless

Cause of death: Memory Zone Meme, “Death”—stab wound through the heart.

•••

There were several photographs taken of the scene, and Robin felt overwhelming nausea at the mere sight of it. Her body went rigidly stiff, her chest rose and fell slowly, and the world around her blurred. One hand shielded her lips and the other was put over her heart.

Meanwhile, Sunday’s strong-willed heart shattered. He felt so many things at once: shock, fury, sadness, despair—basically every negative emotion wrote in the dictionary. Yet at the same time, he didn’t know what to feel.

After awhile, the Halovian idol stood up, her legs now jittery from the sudden revelation. She took in a shaky deep breath before exhaling, not daring to break down in front of her brother. “…I’m going to use the restroom.” With that, she slowly walked out of the study, leaving the revered leader alone with his turmoil.

None of them couldn’t think straight, but who could blame them? Their sibling was dead. Their youngest sibling was dead. Their kin was dead. Their determined Nameless. Their sibling was dead.

Sunday, now isolated, suddenly felt hot beneath his clothing. His mind was disturbed, and his blue-gray wings twitched madly. He didn’t know how to act, but in the end, he let out a cry and ripped the papers apart along with the photographs before throwing the folder in a nearby trash can.

Oh, how he felt like diving into it himself. He felt like trash itself now—unwanted, crumbled, and torn apart.

Back with Robin, she ran past several Oak Family servants and dashed into the restroom, madly locking the door to ensure no one would run into her. She fell against the toilet and heaved into it, her nausea reaching its brink.

After the ordeal, she wiped her mouth before staring at herself in the mirror, unable to hold back her sadness anymore. Transparent tears poured down her flawless face, carving dry rivers in their run. Sorrowful sobs sounded from her throat, her once melodious voice now gone harsh.

Poor you. Poor, poor, poor, you. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve any of this. You didn’t deserve to have your life crushed like a ladybug.

Just.. why..?

all rights reserved © nebuliias. do not copy, re-upload, or plagiarize my fics. if you see anyone doing this to my work, LET ME KNOW.

[azrielsdove]

Hi!! I was hoping I could request something for Azriel or Cassian. I saw this post somewhere about someone being super calm and content in prison, maybe she was taken along with the home carver because of her powers. I’m thinking she is kinda like an old god but instead her powers feed off sacrifice and while she doesn’t want that life, she’s too powerful to be free until Feyre/Rhys lets her out because Feyre thinks she won’t hurt anyone. Then she can find her mate with Az or Cass?? And it’s revealed that she hates her powers because the person has to matter to her for the sacrifice/power. and she could’ve been part of the war that Mor fought in and went kinda crazy after because she lost that person but is fine now that it’s been so long.

You can change whatever if you end up doing it, I just thought it was a cool concept. It also does not have to be that detailed lol but thank you if you do it!!

Old God: Cassian x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Some Alcohol

***

“No, Feyre. It’s too dangerous.” Rhys didn’t look up from the paperwork on his desk while he spoke.

“Have you gone down there recently? She is kind, Rhys. You said to not trust the Bone Carver as well, and look how beneficial he was to us!” Feyre was pacing angrily around the room, having formed an attachment to the Death Wielder.

“We were in war, that was a dire situation. You want to release her for no other reason than you think she won’t harm anyone.” Rhys ran a hand over his face, looking up to his mate. “The beings in the Prison are there for a reason, Feyre. We can not go around releasing whoever we please without justification.”

Feyre huffed, crossing her arms and facing her husband. “You should go speak to her, Rhys. Understand what I mean. Amren came from the Prison, did she not?”

“Amren is different.”

“How?!” Feyre did not like arguing with her mate, but something was telling her it was wrong to keep the so-called old god down there. Especially after the war, after the Bone Carver sacrificed himself to fight for them. She knew the Prison held some of the nastiest beings Prythian had to offer, and that trusting any of them was a risk. Yet something was different about this one, she just knew it.

“Amren got herself out of the Prison. You have no idea how powerful the Death Wielder is. She is unlike anything you have ever seen.” Rhys stood from his desk, crossing the room to hold Feyre’s hands in his own. “It is too risky.”

“So if the Death Wielder got herself out, that would be fine?” Feyre shot at him, upset that he wasn’t agreeing with her.

“That’s not what i’m saying.”

“That’s what you’re insinuating! She isn’t what you think. Please, Rhys, just go talk to her.” Feyre pleaded, holding tight onto his hands. He sighed, reaching up to brush a piece of her hair back.

“Alright. I will go tomorrow evening, and if what you say proves true we can further discuss a release.”

***

Rhys did not enjoy coming to the Prison. He especially did not enjoy coming here to meet with you.

Unfortunately, he would do anything to make his mate happy.

He reached the door to your cell, placing his hand on the heavy stone. He breathed in deeply as he stepped forward, walking through the door like it didn’t exist. He looked around the room, shocked at how bright it was.

“High Lord,” you spoke, standing to greet him. “What brings you down?”

Rhys carefully looked at you, watching for any signs of a trick. “The High Lady requests to have you released. Do you know why she would ask such a thing?”

You gave a small smile, having grown quite fond of Feyre. “She visits me rather often, your mate. Brings me things,” you gestured to the faelights above you, the warm pillows and blankets on the floor. “She is different than any other. Full of hurt, yes, but an undying hope runs through her veins.”

“Are you coming to care for her?” The question was an accusation, thinly veiled anger behind his words.

“If you are asking if I plan to sacrifice her to escape, High Lord, then you would be mistaken. You should know better than anyone that I do not revel in my power.” There was an infinite sadness in your voice, an age-old pain.

“How am I to trust you?”

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect you to. We saw what happened with the war 500 years ago, what I had to do to save so many. Those kind of choices do not come without consequences, High Lord.”

Rhysand pondered over your words, violet eyes reading every movement you made. “You sacrificed the love of your life to save everyone. That is not something to be frowned upon.”

You gave a sad smile. “Yet here I am, locked in this pit of despair with the worst Prythian has to offer. Do not credit me, High Lord. I was willing to let the world suffer. He convinced me to do it, to use him to activate my power. I did not wish to do so.”

Rhys hummed, seeming to understand the level of devotion you held for your old lover. “I could understand. I would do anything to protect Feyre. Do you understand what I mean?”

You did. He would not allow your release from this prison, not even if you may be a harmless being these days. He would rather you suffer needlessly down here for millennia than risk anything harming his mate.

***

Feyre was angry. No, she was furious. Rhys had informed her that he would not be releasing the Death Wielder, even if he had picked up nothing bad in their meeting. She left his office without speaking, upset that he was being so difficult.

However, Feyre was not so naive as to not think her husband would try to stop her. She had planned for this. After all, he had made her High Lady, his equal. She had every right to make the call herself.

She found Cassian easily, purchasing donuts at one of the bakeries in Velaris. “I need your help.” Feyre was straight to the point, eyeing her friend as he stopped mid-bite.

“Uh, okay?” He said, placing his donuts back into their bag. “With what?”

“I need you to take me to the Prison.”

He laughed.

Feyre scowled, glaring at the General. “I’m being serious, Cassian.” She stood tall, letting power radiate from her. “As your High Lady, I command it.”

His laughter ceased, face growing serious. “As you wish, then.” Cassian knew better than to question her any further.

***

The pair stood outside the gates of the Prison, the ominous darkness beckoning them in. “May I ask who we are here to see?” Cassian pried, wanting to be prepared for what they would encounter.

“The Death Wielder.” Feyre didn’t give him a chance to protest, marching down into the endless dark. Cassian followed dutifully, wondering why his High Lady was so determined to meet with her. Feyre pushed in without hesitation when they reached the door to her cell. Cassian went after, growing more curious by the second.

“High Lady,” you greeted, welcoming the female you almost considered a friend. Not that many had ever gotten close enough to you for such a title. Feyre greeted you by your name, something very few had ever called you. “The High Lord was here as well, i’m sure you know.”

You could feel the simmer of displeasure come from the High Lady. “Yes. I’ve chosen to disregard his opinion on this matter. I do not think it is right to keep you down here.”

You gave a soft smile, lightly surveying the room that had caged you for so long. “Ah, but this is my home now, isn’t it? Where I came from has long been gone, anyone I ever knew with it. What else is there for me? It is no harm to keep me here, truly.”

Feyre huffed, seemingly having an argument in her head. “I will never force you to leave, you know that. I simply believe there is more for you out there, out in my home.”

You moved closer to the young female, inspired by her endless hope for all that is good. “Who is to say your people would allow me to walk among them? The old gods are not favored in your time, especially not one who’s known for Death.” It was then that you noticed her companion, the long haired male standing in the shadows. You cocked your head, surveying him curiously. Something about him was…different than any others you had met.

“This is Cassian,” Feyre introduced, waving him forward. He came into the light, nodding his head to you.

“Cassian,” you mused, tasting the name on your tongue. You observed his armor, his wings, the strong power radiating from him. “The General. How do you feel about your High Lady’s idea?”

He seemed shocked that you would ask for his opinion, looking carefully between you and Feyre. “I trust what my High Lady thinks best.”

“The diplomatic answer,” you hummed, moving to look at him closer. “That is not what I asked. What would you, as an innocent in this world, think of someone like me wandering through your city?”

He blinked at you before clearing his throat. “I would not consider myself an innocent. If the High Lady deemed you safe, I would trust her. As would many in this court.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “You are all innocents to me.” You turned back to Feyre, a smile ghosting your lips. “Very well, High Lady. If you deem it fit, I will accept the release you are granting me.”

***

You stood with the General on the outskirts of Velaris, feeling uncomfortable for the first time in a long time. You had grown content in the Prison, safe from your power. Your deadly, terrible power.

“What would you like to do?” He was watching you, hand on one of his many blades. You felt vulnerable by that action, a reminder that you will always be perceived as Death herself.

“I do not know.” Your voice was quiet, a weakness pulling through that you did not enjoy. You were easily the most powerful being here, there was no reason to feel so small. Cassian noticed the change in you, the contrast from the ancient confidence he encountered in the Prison.

“Hey,” he soothed, releasing the hold on his weapons, “no one has to know who you are.” You wanted to give him a thankful smile, but the darkness in your mind was clouding around you.

“No,” you whispered, “they’ll know. Perhaps this was a mistake.” You turned to face the mountains behind you, feeling the dirt beneath your feet. It had been so long since you had seen the outside, since the fresh air had touched your skin. You startled when you felt gentle fingers around your wrist, whipping your head around to meet the kind eyes of the General.

“Come with me. My own friend Amren is like you, and she lives here happily.” There was a calm in his voice that washed away any apprehension you felt, something about him making you feel like you could trust what he said. “Stay with me.”

Your heart ticked at his words as he pulled you down to the glittering city below.

***

You had spent a few weeks with Cassian, learning all Velaris had to offer. The High Lord had come to find the two of you early on, angry that you allowed his wife to set you free.

“She is the High Lady, her word is as equal as yours, is it not?” You had asked, pointing out his hypocrisy. He had grumbled at your words, but allowed you to continue on.

“As long as you are with Cassian, I will accept that you roam free. Do not make me regret this,” he had threatened, still not trusting you.

You couldn’t blame him.

You knew he had an underlying fear that you were growing too close to Feyre, that you may grow close to Cassian. You didn’t know how to explain that you would never use them to activate your power, that you would never allow anyone to become that special to you again.

Unfortunately, you were growing worried yourself. Cassian drew you into him, a simmering desire to learn everything there was to know about the male. His stories captivated you, his jokes made you laugh in ways you never had. He pulled out the true version of you, the being beneath the danger.

You needed to stop this.

Cassian had a little cabin on the edge of the city, a cozy place he had leant to you. He stayed with you most nights, sleeping on the couch while you took the bed. You knew it was due to his High Lord commanding it, but a part of you wished he was staying for you. That he enjoyed being around you as much as you did around him.

“We are going out tonight,” he informed you, tossing a dress onto the bed. You looked up at him in shock, unsure if he was joking or not. “It is time you let loose a little, enjoy yourself.” There was a teasing smile on his lips, a brightness in his eyes. You pulled the blood-red fabric to you, fingers trailing over the delicate fabric. You had never ‘gone out.’

“I don’t,” you started, looking up to him, “I’ve never, I, what if I embarrass you?” You tripped over your words, heat rising in your cheeks.

He gave a reassuring, slightly cocky smile. “You can’t be any worse than Az, trust me.”

***

You were nervous standing outside Rita’s, a cold intruder on a warm night. You hadn’t yet been around so many fae in such a tight setting, the worry that they would notice who you were drowning your mind. You tugged the bottom of your dress down a little, fidgeting with the hem. “Stop,” Cassian chided, grabbing your hand in his. “It’s going to be fine.”

He dragged you up the steps into the bustling bar, making his way through the crowd to a table in the back. His friends were all there, the High Lords stare cold as he noticed your hand in Cassian’s. You quickly pulled away from him, ignoring the look he sent you. He slid into the booth and you sat next to him, careful to keep your distance.

“Drinks?” The stunning blonde you immediately recognized asked, a knowing look in her eyes.

“She needs something strong, Mor.” Cassian answered for you, a laugh in his voice. You nodded in confirmation to the Morrigan, the sight of her bringing up memories of the war all those centuries ago. You were going to need several strong drinks.

“So, Death Wielder, how have you enjoyed your time in my court?” Rhysand asked, your title coming out like an insult.

“It is a very beautiful place, High Lord,” you answered honestly, having grown to quite enjoy the city.

“Hmm.” He leaned across the table, hands clasping in front of him. “And how have you been enjoying my brother?” You looked at him with wide eyes, taken aback by his accusation.

“That’s quite enough, Rhys. We are here to have a nice night, not interrogate our guests.” Feyre cut in, shooting you an apologetic look. Rhys mumbled something about not trusting you as he sat back in his seat.

Cassians hand found your knee, thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. “Don’t listen to him,” he said, loud enough for High Lord to hear. “He doesn’t think I can handle myself around you.”

You flushed at his words, feelings running through you that you hadn’t felt in centuries. You were thankful that Mor chose that moment to return, gladly taking your drink from her. You busied yourself with it, allowing normal conversation to resume around the table.

Cassian did not move his hand.

You were feeling a pleasant buzz from the drink, a state of relaxation coming over you. You found yourself giggling at something Cassian said, leaning further into him. He smiled back at you, his hand sliding a little higher as your dress began to ride up. For the first time in 500 years, you were able to feel a sense of happiness.

“Better be careful, General,” came a slurring voice, all eyes turning to the fae that had approached the table. “Death here will be quick to sacrifice you next. You should know better than anyone that she lures her lovers into traps, killing them to make her power stronger.” You froze in place, terror spreading through your body.

Cassian moved the hand from your knee, a split-second heartbreak occurring inside you before you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders. “Maybe you shouldn’t speak on what you don’t know.” His voice was hard, causing the other male to take a step back. “Do you wish to continue telling me about things that you think I, General of the Night Court Armies, do not already know? Do you truly believe you know more than me?” The male slunk back, angry and embarrassed.

“Don’t say we didn’t try to warn you.” He shot out before disappearing into the crowd, leaving a thick silence over the group. You took the opportunity to slide out of the booth, taking off for the door. You heard a faint call of your name, along with Rhysand calling his brother back to the table. You pushed out of the building, sucking in deep mouthfuls of air. A horrible choking sensation was taking over your throat and lungs, a full panic controlling your body. You stumbled down the street, blind to the concerned expressions of the passerby.

You needed to go. You couldn’t stay here any longer, you couldn’t risk Rhysand putting you back in the Prison now that you knew free life again. You ripped the heels off your feet, discarding them where they landed. You began running, bare feet slapping the pavement below. You felt the skin tear as you ran, too soft for the rough ground.

You didn’t care.

You ran all the way to the cabin, lungs burning. You grabbed your few meager possessions, mostly clothes Cassian had bought you. You stuffed them into a small bag, not noticing the tears running down your face until they splashed onto the fabric. When was the last time you cried?

Loud, shaking sobs overtook your body. You sunk to the ground by the bed, curling your arms around your knees and burying your head. How could you be so stupid? You knew better than to fall for him, for anyone. You cursed yourself, the crushing weight of despair becoming too much to handle. You felt tendrils of your power come out, wrapping themselves around your skin. It burned where they touched, an anguished scream tearing from you.

A voice was yelling your name, holding tight to your arms. You cried harder, certain that the burning of your power must be hurting them too. “Leave me!” You screamed, the pain of the last 500 years ripping from your body. The voice calling for you was growing hectic, desperate. You couldn’t focus on anything except the tendrils of power on you, certain they were melting the skin off your bones.

You felt arms cradle your body, lifting you off the ground. You knew you were suddenly outside, a sensation like flying taking over. The wind was harsh against you, a welcome cold to the burning power suffocating you. You felt a jolt as whoever was carrying you hit the ground, more voices joining in the chaos. You heard one stick out above the rest, and then an endless darkness took over your mind.

***

Your head was heavy, your body was sore, and your throat was terribly dry. You pried your eyes open, wincing at the daylight flooding the room. You blinked a few times, looking around at what you could see. You didn’t recognize anything about the bedroom, but you did know the large male passed out in the chair next to the bed.

Cassian.

He shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. You needed to get out, get away from him. You forced yourself up, crying out in pain as you did. He shot up out of the chair and was at your side in a second. “No, lay back down,” he commanded, pushing you down gently.

“I need to go,” you croaked out, voice hoarse.

“Why do you think that?” He asked, looking at you like he already knew the answer.

You felt tears prick the corner of your eyes. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. “Never,” he whispered into your hair, “will you hurt me.”

You couldn’t help the tears spilling out as you clutched onto his arms, wanting to stay here forever. “I killed him,” you sobbed, holding tighter onto Cassian.

“You didn’t,” he argued, “he sacrificed himself. For you, for all of Prythian and beyond. If we had lost that war, none of us would be here. He knew you didn’t want to do it, that you wouldn’t do it. He made that choice, not you.” You cried, shaking in his arms at the memory of your past love. He had been your heart, your soul. You will never forget the pain and anguish that came from losing him, all so you could use your power to its full extent.

A curse, your power was. Only able to be used if someone you loved died. Died for the sake of the power. You despised it, you despised the title it had earned you. Death Wielder. You had never wanted to be that, to become a horror story. To be classified as an ‘old god’, a force to be reckoned with. You had been a gentle spirit before the discovery of your power, before you were told how to use it.

You shook your head. “I won’t risk it, Cass. What if war comes again?”

“If it does, you will be better trained. Rhys has been doing some research while you were out, talking to some of the other High Lords. They believe your power is misunderstood.” You stilled, pulling back to look at him.

“Misunderstood?”

He nodded. “He believes you can access it without a sacrifice. With the way it was acting when I found you that night, I think he may be right.”

You remembered the horrible pain of your power then, looking down at your arms. You were surprised to see they were bare, no damage from the force of whatever you released. “It hurt me,” you said slowly, eyes moving back up to Cassian’s.

“He believes with proper training it won’t hurt. All we can do is try.” He raised a hand to your face, thumb brushing away the remaining tears. “I don’t think I can live without you.” Your breath caught at the honesty in his words.

“I don’t think I can live without you either,” you said, voice barely a whisper. His gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips, a heavy tension growing in the air.

“Please, may I kiss you?” He asked, voice soft.

You nodded.

He leaned down, cupping your face as his lips touched yours. The kiss was slow, hesitant. You hadn’t kissed anyone in over five centuries, certain you would be abysmal. Cassian lead you perfectly, bringing your head up to create a better angle. You sighed softly, lips parting just enough for his tongue to delve in. He took his time learning every inch he could reach, kissing you breathless and then some.

You pulled apart, gasping for air. Your eyes caught his blow-out ones, and a string of gold erupted between the two of you. Mate, mate, mate, sang around your head, everything except Cassian disappearing. You could tell he felt it too, hands tightening on you. He came closer again, lightly kissing your lips.

“Mine, aren’t you?” He said. You smiled, a real, true smile. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his shirt, needing to touch him.

“Yours, always.”

***

I hope I was able to pull off what you wanted!! It took me a while to figure out how to write this. Please let me know what you think <3

[animasola86]

Lessons in Love-Making

Notes: So I received an amazing request recently and this is what I made of it! I hope you enjoy! (If you like to give me smut requests as well, please feel free to do so! My inbox is open!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Assisted masturbation. Voice kink. Fingering. Sex. (Infidelity?)

Word count: 9.8k

Synopsis: To say you and your boyfriend have a poor sex life would be an understatement. One day after a particularly horrible experience, you find yourself crying in the hallway. And then Sebastian finds you, always eager to lend a hand.

Warning: It's smut time again! Yay! I mean, beware, there's some spice below the cut! Don't get it in your eyes!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

Lessons in Love-making

You are tense. So tense, your entire body is shaking. Gritting your teeth and clenching your hands into fists as you walk through the empty hallway, you are not surprised when the first tears roll down your cheeks. Because you are not just tense, you are frustrated. And you've been frustrated for quite a while now.

It always comes to you when you walk back to your common room, in that post-haze clarity, not that there had been any haze, there was fog, sure, perhaps a few lightning bolts and one clap of thunder, and the rain that should be soothing was just a little drizzle, if it came at all.

And if you had time to think of silly metaphors for your poor sex life, then it really wasn't that good apparently.

You let out a shuddering sigh and stop walking, too wound up to wipe at your wet cheeks. Too wound up to do anything and so you sink to the ground and just sit there, trying to ease your breathing and your drumming heart, trying to clear your head and not think of what has happened and what has been happening over the last months.

Soon you are so focused on creating your own personal pro and con list, that you shriek loudly when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You jump and hit your head against the wall behind you, looking up with wide eyes and your mouth open.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

And just like that your mind is empty. His voice makes sure of that. And that smile. Yet all you do is stare, while the tears still stream down your face.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks as he settles down next to you on the floor.

You let out a sob and raise a hand to wipe at your tears, before you give him a shrug and half-hearted grunt of confirmation. He raises an eyebrow and watches you closely.

“What happened?” he inquires with that low voice that causes your tense body to shudder deeply.

You swallow and look away, unable to answer him right away. Even though he's been your friend for quite some time now and you've shared a lot of low and high points together and you know you can tell him anything, you feel embarrassed to address your frustration.

You feel him scooting closer and then his hand is on your knee. “Did he do something?” he asks and just the implication that your boyfriend could have done something bad to you makes you turn your head.

“No!” you say quickly, before you pause and let out a dry laugh. “That's the thing, really... he never does... anything...”

Sebastian tilts his head, frowning slightly as his dark eyes wander over your face. “He doesn't satisfy you, eh?” he then states and the brutal straight-forwardness of his words makes you wince.

You don't answer right away and that is probably answer enough. Sighing deeply, you look down at his hand on your knee, feeling his warm touch and how it affects you. And you shouldn't feel like this. Because you have a boyfriend and it is not Sebastian Sallow. You would add sadly, but in truth you are quite content with the boy that asked you to be his girlfriend almost six months ago.

You love talking to him, you feel safe in his presence, he makes you laugh and happy. But when it came to sex, he was really... bad. And for months you've just dealt with it, not complaining, just trying to be happy for him because apparently it was quite enough for his liking. And the sad truth is that you've accepted feeling unattended whenever he would find his release – and then fall asleep right after. You didn't even mind the pain any more, because quite frankly, it was the only thing you could count on whenever you would end up in bed with him.

Tonight has been especially bad, causing your ever-growing frustration to burst through the seams of your patience. And the tears that won't stop flowing are proof of that.

“Please don't mention this to anyone,” you whisper and wipe at your cheeks again. “It... it really is not that big a deal...”

“Are you sure about that?” Sebastian asks and gently grabs your chin to make you look at him. “This does look like a big deal to me...”

You shake your head and his hand away, sobbing quietly. “I'm just frustrated and it's okay, it'll pass, like always. It's silly, really, crying over something like that...”

“It's not, you have needs too. Everyone has. And you shouldn't just be his plaything...” he tells you quietly, his voice vibrating through your very core.

“I'm not! You know he's not like that...” you start defending your boyfriend once more.

The boy next to you watches you closely. “Perhaps you want to be his plaything, but he just doesn't comply.”

“Stop saying plaything, it's vulgar!” you hiss.

He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “I can be more blunt, don't worry,” he says and nudges your knee before he leans away and crosses his arms behind his head. “So why don't you take care of your frustration yourself?” he then whispers, his eyes on you.

You stare at him, a little puzzled, before it dawns on you what he means. Averting your eyes, you blush deeply. “I... uh, tried, but it wasn't for me...” you admit eventually under your breath. “It doesn't feel right...”

“Then you may have done it wrong,” he says and leans closer again.

Swallowing hard, you raise your gaze and meet his. “I think I know my body and what it... wants...”

“Do you though?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“Well, of course, it's my body!”

“But then why are you crying in the hallway because your sorry excuse for a boyfriend can't satisfy you the way you like it, hm?”

His words hang in the air, luckily only reaching your ears, and you look at him long and hard. The longer you stare into those dark eyes that practically sparkle in mischief, the hotter you feel, your cheeks positively aflame as they burn your tears right off your skin.

“I can help you,” he then says quietly, and the implication alone makes you lean back from him.

“What? No! I... I have --”

“Yes, I know what you have,” he sighs and tilts his head. “And I'm not saying you should cheat on him with me, okay? I just want to... show you something. Help you out. Fight that frustration with you. Make you feel better.”

His promises sink into your mind and leave you wanting exactly that. You know how good he is at manipulating you, not that you would call it that, he was just very convincing. Persuasive even. And this was for your own good, wasn't it? Like he said, you have needs too. And as you wipe at your burning eyes, you find yourself inhaling deeply, before you nod shortly.

When you look at him, you see his face lighting up, the faint shadow of dimples gracing his freckled cheeks. “Of course this will be purely educational,” he tells you with a wink as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out for you to grab.

When you do and he pulls you into a standing position as well, you bite your lip and square your shoulders. “Of course,” you agree.

*

“So tell me what you usually do with him,” Sebastian asks as you sit down on that old couch in the far back of the dimly lit Undercroft.

You feel embarrassed, but then you sigh. “Well, we sit on his bed and then we... kiss and that's quite nice,” you start, already defending your boyfriend again, almost unconsciously. “And he would touch me...”

“Where?” the boy next to you inquires.

You look at your hands in your lap. “He usually gropes my breasts, sometimes my hips,” you whisper, before you look at him and he nods to make you continue. “Then he'd lie on top of me --”

“Are you naked when he does that?” You wince slightly at the bluntness of his question and look away again.

“No,” you admit, your ears burning. “He... doesn't like being naked...”

Sebastian laughs loudly at that, before clearing his throat. “I'm sorry, I...” he says a little breathlessly, before he shakes his head. “So you just grope each other through your clothes? But you do have sex, right?”

You blush deeply once more and fidget with your fingers. “Well, yes, he would push my underwear off and... stick it in...”

You hear him stifle another noise of surprise or whatever you want to call that gurgle that escapes his throat and you start feeling a little more frustrated, but for a different reason. “And then what?” you hear him ask once he catches himself again.

“He'd...” You let out a groan. “Tell me again why it is necessary to share these things with you?” you ask and stare at him.

“Well I have to know what you already do know in order to teach you more,” he tells you with a smile. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ridicule your boyfriend, I'm sure he has other redeeming qualities...”

“He has!” you confirm with narrowed eyes. “That's why I put up with that, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows, then nods. “I see. So, please, continue, tell me what exactly he does that leaves you so frustrated.”

You sigh and inhale deeply. “Well, he... comes very quickly. He's barely in there before he... grunts, pulls out and comes all over my stomach...”

“He doesn't even finish inside?” Sebastian exclaims in surprise.

“Because he shouldn't!” you reply a little more agitated than you've expected.

“Why not? You do take those contraceptive potions, don't you?” He tilts his head, looking genuinely concerned now.

“Yes, I do, all the girls do, we are basically forced to. Nurse Blainey makes sure of that...” you whisper.

“But then why doesn't he come inside you?” he asks as if you were talking about what to eat for breakfast and he was really appalled by your choice of cereal.

You take a sharp breath and look away. “I don't know, he probably doesn't like it...”

“I bet he never even tried...” you hear him whisper. “Trust me, it's the best feeling...”

You swallow and look at him. His smile is both boyishly charming and devilishly sultry. “So you know your stuff, eh?” you whisper under your breath.

He laughs. “I do, love,” he says with a wink. “And I'm going to teach you a thing or two. If you let me,” he adds quietly.

You are intrigued, certainly. And you've already shared all those embarrassing things with him. Talking about more couldn't possibly hurt, right?

But you haven't taken into account that Sebastian Sallow was more for learning by doing than anything, so you suddenly find yourself sitting sideways on the couch, your legs lying on his lap as he gently pushes your skirt up to reveal your underwear. Biting your lip, you watch him.

“So how would you normally touch yourself?” he asks as he looks into your eyes, making it sound so easy and simple as if he wanted to know your favourite colour.

You blush and look down, moving your hand between your legs slowly. “I'd... rub right here...” you whisper and put your middle finger against the thick fabric of your bloomers, lightly teasing your heated skin.

“No skin contact?” You shake your head and he huffs quietly. “Love, you have to give your body room to breathe, let the air caress your skin, put your fingers right in there, properly feel yourself. May I?” he then asks and you look up in surprise when he gently grabs your hand.

You nod hesitantly and watch how he moves your hand against your centre, repeating the motion you just made, guided by his slender fingers pressing against yours. “Remember this feeling, okay?” He then grabs the waistband of your underwear with his free hand and without hesitation pushes your hand beneath the fabric until you feel your fingers gliding over your hot, wet skin.

You gasp and almost jerk your hand away if he wouldn't hold it. You can feel not only your fingers, but his as well, as he presses your hand firmer against your skin. “How does that feel?” he whispers and his voice alone makes you issue a tiny whimper.

Taking a shuddering breath, you feel him letting go of your hand, before he puts his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and in a swift and unexpected motion pushes it down your hips and off your rear and legs, and you barely even noticed him raising your body for that. Too shocked about his brash action to fully react to it, you instead focus on your hand resting on your exposed mound, your fingers teasing at your folds. Your first instinct is to cover yourself with your other hand, but you hear him shushing you softly.

His hand is lying on your thigh now, his touch warm and somewhat comforting. You bite your lip and look at him. With a smile he tells you: “Come on, don't be shy, touch yourself.”

Oddly enough you don't feel shy at all in his presence, a little taken aback maybe, but not shy. And so you start moving your finger over your skin, exploratively, literally testing the waters as you let it slide over your lower lips and then between them. After just a few rubs, you feel your breath accelerating.

“You might want to move your finger a little higher,” he whispers, his voice not only helping you calm down under the unusual task he's given you, but also helping you in other ways that are quite the opposite of relaxing.

You follow his advise and move your fingertip higher until you feel the little nub that causes your stomach to tense slightly when you touch it. You breathe loudly through your nose as you push your finger against it and start rubbing slow circles around it. Closing your eyes you focus on the sensation, until you feel a warm breath near your ear.

“That's it, keep doing that,” Sebastian whispers right into your ear after he has leaned closer to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. You open your mouth slightly and take a shuddering breath. “Feels good, right?” he continues, his voice causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin like waves. That or the steady movement of your finger. You feel your hips stuttering slightly, your thighs twitching with every push against that agitated bundle of nerves.

“Oh yes...” you moan softly and lean your head back, chewing on your lips as you work your finger against yourself. You feel a familiar tension, yet somehow it feels different, more intense, and you move harder and faster against that nub. As your body starts shaking badly, almost spasming, you feel his hand pressing on your thigh as if to calm you, or hold you in place, and in your desire to finally finish this you grab it with your free hand and close your fingers around his.

He holds onto your hand tightly and even scoots closer to you, lifting and parting your legs slightly as he does so, and then wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Almost there, love,” he whispers and you whimper under the sound of his voice, your eyes squeezed shut as you lean against him, furiously rubbing yourself. “You're doing so well,” he adds and his praise is what pushes you right over the edge.

You buck your hips and cling to his hand as you feel the coil that had been sitting in your stomach for so long, unattended and so tightly twisted it was almost painful, suddenly explode into a blindingly bright light. You gasp and cry out, your legs twitching as your toes curl up and you feel the blood rushing through your head while you hold your breath under the unknown feeling of your release.

As you slowly come down from your high, your fingers shaking against your heated skin, you feel him stroking your arm and squeezing your hand. “Well done,” he whispers and you feel his lips brushing against your hair. You are breathing heavily and when you open your eyes, you see him smiling at you. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted and trembling. You feel as if you've just run up several staircases.

“Was that your first orgasm?” he then asks and you just look at him, taking in his face, until the cold reality of the situation comes back to you. Blinking slowly, you squirm against him, but he holds you tightly, not letting you go.

“I... I shouldn't have --” you mutter under your breath, quickly looking away again, biting your lip.

“Oh you definitely should have, that was long overdue apparently,” he says quietly, shifting beneath you until he pulls you right onto his lap. You lean your shoulder against his chest and slowly look at him, fighting the embarrassment. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispers as he tilts his head, his dark eyes on you. “That was beautiful to witness.”

His words do the exact opposite of what he has intended, they don't reassure you, they make it worse. You look away with a hoarse groan, chewing nervously on your lips as you clamp your hands to your core and clench your thighs around them, too shaken still to think about just covering yourself with your skirt.

“Do you feel a little better at least?”

“A little,” you confess quietly.

“I'm sure there's more where that came from,” he then whispers, his lips right against your ear and you flinch and turn your head towards him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently, truly innocently because you just don't know any better.

He smirks at you. “You know, love, unlike men, who need a little time to gather themselves, women are capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in quick succession,” he explains almost matter-of-factly and you listen with blushed cheeks but growing interest. “Do you want to test that theory?”

You stare at him and lick your lips, still feeling the distant shudders of your last release, but you know he's right. You've been tense for so long, never able to let it all out, so why stop now? The harm is already done, you tell yourself and try not to think of the details of experiencing this whole thing with another boy while your boyfriend is probably fast asleep and happy about what you'd done earlier.

“Yes,” you tell Sebastian quietly and watch him smile wider at you. Without any warning, he then grabs your shoulders and turns you around until your back is pressed against his chest and you sit with your legs wide open astride on his lap, facing the vast space of the Undercroft.

“You can put your feet on the couch if you want, but keep those legs open, okay?” he whispers, his breath hitting your ear as he leans his head around slightly. You shift on top of him and gasp softly when he snakes his arms under yours and around your torso, grabbing the fabric of your skirt to ball it up more and push it out of the way.

“I can... take it off...” you mumble under your breath.

“If you want to,” he says and lets go of it.

You stand up then and suddenly feel your legs shaking beneath you. He quickly grabs your waist to support you and you inhale deeply to gather yourself. With shaking fingers you unclasp your skirt and push it off your hips until it drops to your feet. Stepping out of it, you then settle back on his lap and put your feet up like he told you to. You can feel the soft fabric of his trousers and slightly more as you shift your rear against him to find a comfortable position.

His hands now roam freely all the way to your legs, his thumbs teasing at your inner thighs. “I can assume you've never had a finger inside you?” he whispers against you and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Isn't it enough to have a --” Weirdly enough you can't say it, can't name it. You feel your cheeks blush even more.

“The word is cock, darling,” he tells you in that sultry voice that masks the vulgarity of his words so well. “Or dick or whatever you want to call it,” he adds with a chuckle. “Don't be afraid to name it. It won't bite. It's there for your pleasure, you know?” You squirm and make a low noise of embarrassment. He only chuckles again. “And you know, no, it's not enough to have a cock in your pussy. It is certainly the main goal, but there are so many other things you can use to pleasure yourself. Like your fingers,” he concludes and you feel your ears burning when you listen to him. He talks about these things so easily, it's almost impressive if it wouldn't be so lewd.

As you still chew on his words, he suddenly grabs your hand and guides it between your legs, his fingers on yours as he presses them against your folds that feel warm and wet under your touch. You inhale sharply and bite your lip. Feeling him rest his chin on your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against yours, you look down and watch him move your hand up and down your mound, teasing at your clit, pressing into your slit until you feel your fingertip pushing against your entrance.

“Give it a try,” he tells you quietly and just the sound of his voice makes you close your eyes and take a deep breath, before you tease your fingertip into your hole.

It feels so tight and you suddenly know why it hurts every time your overeager boyfriend presses his thing (still can't even think about it) into you without warning or preparation. You feel Sebastian moving his fingers back to close around your wrist as he guides your hand further, pushing your finger deeper. You shudder at the sensation.

“How does it feel?” he asks and you feel the vibrations of his voice more than you hear his words.

“Weird,” you reply quietly as your finger scrapes over your soft wet flesh. “So... squishy...”

He chuckles. “That makes it so desirable, love,” he whispers and you feel him turn his head and brush his lips against your jaw. “It can be soft and welcoming, but then it can clench and tighten and really squeeze...” He inhales deeply, almost longingly, when all you can do is focus on his voice and the sensation that causes inside you.

And you knew then that it wasn't your finger inside you that made your stomach tense, it was the timbre of his voice, those low vibrations, the way he pronounced certain words, those low and high notes of his speech, and that combined with his lewd words was just irresistible to you. A soft moan escapes you as you shift slightly against him, pressing your back into his chest.

“Keep talking,” you whisper as you move your finger a little faster against your flesh. “Please...”

He seems to pause at your request, then you feel a warm exhale against your cheek as he breathes a throaty laugh. “You like my voice, huh?” he concludes and all you can do is nod. “That's new. Have you always --” He pauses again. “Are you honestly jerking off to my voice right now?” he asks and you blush and bite your lip, but you don't stop moving your finger against yourself.

He laughs softly and tightens his grip on your wrist as he helps you with that motion. “Try adding another finger,” he tells you, his lips brushing against your ear and you shiver deeply. You comply and slip your index finger in with your middle finger, slightly stretching your entrance as you do so. Another moan escapes you. “Push as deep as you can,” he continues in a low whisper that resonates through your entire body. You do what he says and you don't even flinch at the wet squelching sound you create with your movements. “In and out, that's right,” he comments on what you're doing. “Go a little faster, really move those digits. The more friction the better, love.”

You feel your heart pounding inside your chest as you work your hand against your folds, your fingers slipping in and out fast and hard and you can feel your walls clenching around them, certainly reacting to your touch. Your breaths become shallow and you feel your wrist hurting from him holding it and you moving your hand so much, but you keep going.

“Now put your thumb on your clit,” he whispers, seemingly watching you follow his every word. “Pump those fingers and press against your clit and I bet it'll feel even better...” And it does and you almost flinch off his lap if he wouldn't hold you as you feel your thighs twitching when you start rubbing the sensitive nub with every rapid pump motion of your fingers.

You lean your head back against him, breathing louder and harder, your whole body shuddering under the sensation. “You're so good at this,” he tells you and you feel even better. “And I wonder why you never did this before, you're a natural.”

“You... you're... helping...” you whimper breathlessly. You hear him chuckle and then his lips press against your ear.

“Am I?” he whispers with his voice so deep and low that you can only moan more. “And I could tell you anything? And you would still find it... sexy? Hmm,” he hums and you almost lose it right there and then. “Hmm, okay, so, did you know --”

But you never heard whatever he wanted to tell you as your entire body shuddered all over again. You arch your back against him as you buck your hips off his lap and really push your feet into the cushions of the couch when you feel that awful knot tensing up painfully once more before it breaks free with such a force that you let out a cry of pleasure that echoes loudly through the Undercroft. While your hips stutter, you feel something warm and wet coating your hand as you finally still your movements and even press your thighs together before you curl up on his lap, shaking uncontrollably under your release.

He holds you in his arms as you shake and whimper, gently cooing in your ear, and you feel completely spent and very, very happy as you lean against him, smiling tiredly as your eyelids flutter open.

“That was powerful...” he whispers as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “Well done. You even squirted, I'm impressed,” he tells you and you frown at his words, before you loosen your legs and open them once more, only to see a large wet stain on his green trousers.

Despite the sensation still rushing through your body, you basically jump off his lap and hide your face in nothing but pure humiliation as you stand awkwardly in front of the couch, your release still dripping down your legs as you shift on them shakily. “No! Oh no, I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't --”

He is with you immediately, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him. “Shh, it's alright! Don't worry about it! It's completely natural,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “And I can clean that up, no problem. Don't be ashamed! Be proud!”

You issue a strangled noise and bury your burning face in his shirt, your hands clawing at the back of it. It takes you a moment to recover and you feel even sillier over how you've reacted to your mess. “Sorry,” you mumble once more and he shushes you once more.

He even grabs your shoulders and leans you back, looking at you with a serious expression that stuns you for a moment. “Don't apologize,” he whispers and tilts his head. “I wanted you to feel good about yourself, and didn't you feel good just now?”

You swallow and nod almost a little timidly, chewing on your lip.

Sebastian smiles at you. “Then focus on that,” he says and you feel his hands moving down your arms until they hold your waist and pull you closer to him. “And I'm sure you want to feel good again, don't you?”

You take a shuddering breath, unsure if you do. But then he leads you back to the couch, sits down and pulls you onto his soiled lap. You shift a little uncomfortably as he pulls his arms around you and presses your shoulder into his chest. You look at him a little conflicted.

“Hey, cheer up!” he says with a smirk and kisses the top of your head. “And tell me... what do you think about toys?” You frown when he goes back to the topic right away as if nothing has happened. He mistakes your facial expression for confusion and adds: “You know, those phallic things that imitate the real deal? Or other toys you can stuff your pussy with?”

His lewd words make you shiver in slight discomfort and yet they also cause the heat to pool back between your legs immediately. “Haven't thought about those before,” you reply shyly, even though you hold his dark gaze.

“Want to test them out?”

“Do you have stuff like that?” you ask in earnest and surprise, before he chuckles and makes you frown again.

“I'm a wizard, love, I can conjure you anything you desire,” he says with a wink and you blush deeply.

“Perhaps... another time,” you reply eventually. “I... I think I'm good for tonight.”

He watches you closely. “Are you sure? Are you completely frustration-free?”

You consider his question, your eyes wandering over his freckled face. While he waits for your answer, you go back in time and think about your friendship with him. This was still a friendship, right? You have shared so many things, the good and the bad, the worst even, and you were always there for each other. But you have never been this intimate. You've hugged and he's kissed your head a couple of times, tonight included, and he didn't shy away from holding your hand or touching you (appropriately), but you never did the things lovers would do.

And somehow you still didn't consider what has happened tonight to be something like that. He had just helped you, assisted you in relieving the tension that's been troubling you for so long. He's never touched you (inappropriately) himself and you know he wouldn't do that without your permission. And even if the thought of pleasuring yourself right in front of him was still a little daunting to you, you haven't felt too awkward about it because he has made you feel so at ease.

Sitting comfortably on his lap, leaning against his chest, looking into his dark eyes, you suddenly wonder about something else and despite not really wanting to go down that road right now, you just can't shake the thought. So you voice it. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” he replies, watching you patiently, a gentle smile playing around his lips.

“Why... aren't you my boyfriend?” you ask quietly and for the first time tonight you see him blush. He quickly clears his throat and laughs it off, shaking his head.

“Yes, love, why am I not your boyfriend?” he teases and nudges your shoulder playfully. “Take a guess.”

“Because I chose him or because he was faster in asking me?” you whisper.

You see him clenching his jaw, before he gives you one of his carefree smirks – that you know he uses to hide his deeper thoughts behind. “Both? Honestly, I am happy when you are happy and if you're happy with him --” He pauses then, watching you closely with the smirk slowly fading. “Are you happy with him? If I learned one thing about your beloved boyfriend tonight, it's that he seems to neglect you pretty horribly.”

You inhale sharply. “No, he doesn't! He's really sweet, he just doesn't know any better...” you quickly fall back into defending him.

“And apparently he's unwilling to learn either. Or do you guys just not talk about these things?” he says quietly, his tone a tad too serious for your liking. When you avert your gaze and bite your lip, he exhales loudly. “Of course you don't talk about it! Darling, you have to talk to him if you want to have a better experience! The times are changing, you don't have to take them like they come, you can fight against them, make them better!”

“It's really not that important...” you start quietly, even though you want to agree with him. But some things are always easier said than done.

“Really? It was important enough for you to get so frustrated that you ended up crying in the hallway! I bet he wouldn't like to see you crying either. Talk to him!” he insists, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Or shall I talk to him?”

“No!” you exclaim immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. “Please don't! I --” When you see his smirk, you groan and hit his chest playfully. “Don't even joke about it, okay? He can never find out what... happened here tonight...”

“You know your secrets are safe with me, stop worrying so much!” he says gently and raises a hand to push a strand of your hair out of your forehead. “What we have is special, isn't it? I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“Me neither,” you agree, your eyes boring into his. “Sebastian, I... I want to thank you...” you then start, shifting nervously on his lap.

“No need, love, it's quite alright. I'm always here for you,” he replies, but you shake your head.

“I mean it, let me thank you,” you whisper urgently and he raises an eyebrow.

“What were you thinking of?” he asks then, sounding quite interested in how you want to thank him.

You lick your lips and lean closer until your lips are brushing against his ear for a change. “I...” You blush deeply and inhale sharply, before you lean back and look at him once more. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way. I mean, we've already crossed some lines today, right? So...” Taking another deep breath, you return to whisper into his ear: “I want you to come inside me.”

He grabs your shoulders and stares at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You fight the heat overtaking your face and hold your breath when you look at him. “You heard me,” you say and chew on your lips.

“I'm not so sure, to be honest...” he replies quietly, frowning deeply. “Sounded to me as if you --”

“Listen!” You inhale deeply, before you pummel him with your words. “You said it's the best feeling, right? And quite frankly, I want to experience that too for once. So this might also be a selfish request, but also a way of saying thank you for your help tonight...” Staring at him breathlessly, you blink slowly. “What do you say?”

He raises his eyebrows and watches you for a moment, unusually quiet. “Are you sure about this? That would be a major line to cross...” he whispers eventually.

“See it as a service between friends,” you explain with a shy smile.

You see him working his jaw as he looks away slowly, his eyes moving over your exposed legs. His hand moves down to your lower back, teasing under the hem of your shirt, before he lowers it to gently caress the curves of your bare rear. “And we'll still be friends afterwards? Promise?”

You tilt your head. “Of course! Why wouldn't we?”

“What if... that changes things?” he asks quietly, still not looking at you.

“Look at me,” you tell him and reluctantly, he does. “No, really, look at me! I just came all over your blasted trousers! That should have changed things, but it didn't! Not for me. We've been through so much, Sebastian. I think our friendship, or whatever you want to call this, can handle anything!”

He watches you closely, your words slowly bringing the smirk back onto his lips. But you're not done yet.

“And you know? It's only fair that I see you come undone as well, don't you think?” you whisper and smile at him, and despite your confident words and eager attempts to convince him to do that with you, you feel your cheeks burning and your stomach tensing up in anticipation. You might also be dripping onto his trousers some more, but you really don't care any more.

“I suppose,” he replies quietly and you see the tip of his tongue moving over his bottom lip. He smirks wider when he notices where your eyes have wandered. “And you wouldn't consider that cheating? You'd be sleeping with another guy...”

“There will be absolutely no sleeping, okay? Don't you dare fall asleep on me as well! I wouldn't be able to handle it,” you tell him with a hearty laugh.

He chuckles, but you can see a dark shadow crossing his eyes. “No falling asleep, I promise.”

Your eyes move over his face. “You want to do this with me, right? I wouldn't want to... force you or anything.”

His laugh is genuine this time. “You find me a teenage guy who wouldn't want to be forced to have sex!” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, ugh, you know what I mean!” You see him rolling his eyes as he blushes deeply and you chuckle softly while you raise a hand to rub at his red cheek.

“I want you to feel good too,” you whisper.

“I appreciate that,” he replies, before he tilts his head. “You know, we never even properly kissed and now you expect me to put my cock inside your pussy? That's quite the step we'd be making...”

You almost choke on your own spit when you hear his blunt words before you try to laugh off your shock. “Well... we can also do the steps in between, if it makes you feel better...”

“Well, if I have to,” he mocks your tone and smirks at you, while he extends a hand to cup your face, his long fingers moving into your hair as his thumb caresses your cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he then asks quietly, leaning a little closer.

You look at him, inhaling deeply. “Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

For a moment you just look at each other, each of you weighing the consequences of what is about to happen. But all that flies out the window, or at least your head, when he leans in and presses his lips to yours, gently, softly, testing the waters, and when you kiss him back, he tightens the grip on your face and pulls you towards him, his lips closing around yours eagerly.

You've often imagined kissing Sebastian, or at least for a long while, and you've seen him kissing other girls, but feeling his warm mouth on yours now, with his lips moving confidently against your own and his tongue cheekily slipping into your mouth feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. You are so absorbed in the sensation that you barely notice shifting on his lap until you straddle him, your chest pressed to his as you lean against him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss almost hungrily.

His hands move down to your hips and even further, and when he starts kneading the soft flesh of your rear, you moan softly into his mouth. He leans back then, watching you out of dark eyes, and you draw a much needed breath. “You really want this?” he whispers equally breathless. You nod and already lean in once more, your lips brushing over his, but he leans back again. “You really want --” You see him clenching his jaw. “You really want me to come inside you?” he says barely audible and you smile at his sudden shyness, or whatever you want to call this kind of hesitation you've certainly never seen from him before.

“Yes,” you breathe against him, your hands finding his face as you hold it firmly. “I want it all. I want you!”

His gaze becomes harder for a moment. “What if I want you too?” he then asks darkly.

You tilt your head and frown, licking your swollen lips. “What do you mean? You have me, right here.”

“What if I... wanted more?” His voice is low, but in a way that causes cold shivers instead of pleasant ones to rush down your spine.

“What are you saying?”

He inhales deeply and then shakes his head, giving you one of his smirks. “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” he then brushes it off and leans in once more to kiss you quickly.

Your turn to lean away. “Sebastian...”

He sighs loudly. “Sorry, I shouldn't have --” You see him closing his eyes for a moment and working his jaw. “This is a service between friends. We are friends, nothing more. You have a boyfriend and I'm just here to help you out when he is too incompetent to treat you right!” He exhales then, leaning his head back against the couch, and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I mean... I just...” He issues a groan and stays silent.

You grab his face and look at him. He avoids your gaze. “Do you want me to break up with him?” you then ask as straight forward as possible.

His eyes find yours. “I would never ask that of you,” he tells you and even though he sounds sincere, you know better.

“That's not my question,” you whisper.

“Why do you press this so much? Let's just fuck and get it over with!” he grimaces darkly and sits up straighter again, grabbing your waist. “Or not, if you don't want any more because I ruined the mood or something...”

You sigh and roll your shoulders, your thumbs grazing over his cheeks. “Tell me to break up with him,” you say quietly and watch his eyes go wider.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don't mean it,” he says quietly, eyeing you closely.

“What if I do? We could do this all the time, without having to hide anything...” you whisper, licking your lips.

“I thought you love him...”

“I love talking to him, spending time with him. The sex, if you want to call it that, was just a... necessity...” you tell him and scoff.

He watches you with dark eyes, his face hard. “What if he doesn't want to talk to you any more... afterwards?”

“His loss,” you say surprisingly indifferently. “I enjoy his presence, but I enjoy yours more,” you tell him with a warm smile.

You see him opening his mouth, ready to say something, make it better or worse, but instead he pushes his lips against yours as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you towards him. You gasp, but quickly lean into the kiss that is much more passionate than before. His words still echo inside your head despite the static trying to push them away and you wonder what if...

He never actually said it, you realize, if he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend, and even though you've seen the signs, you can't be sure. And quite frankly, you are a little apprehensive about making rash decisions while you're still battling your frustrations and basking in the sensations another boy has invoked in you and it wouldn't be fair to -- When you feel Sebastian's tongue pressing against yours demandingly, you focus back on the kiss and for a moment you truly forget about everything.

Your fingers dig into his hair, another thing you've always wanted to do, and you even start grinding your pelvis against him as you kiss him breathlessly. He groans quietly against you, the sound so low and deep it immediately causes a reaction deep within your gut. You grip his hair and wrestle his tongue hungrily, your heart pounding inside your chest. His hands are on your hips, just holding you, but his grip is tight and almost possessive, definitely bruising your skin.

With the last of your willpower (or the urge to breathe) you lean back then and watch him out of half-lidded eyes. “Do you... still want to stick your cock into me?” you ask, blushing from your own whispered words, but also no longer caring about etiquette. He's certainly had a bad influence on you.

Yet he seems just as surprised as you are and issues a short laugh. “Yes,” he eventually says back, breathlessly and with his eyes sparkling mischievously. You smile at him and scoot back on his lap a little as he pushes a hand between your bodies and fumbles with the buttons of his trousers. Watching him eagerly as he finally frees his arousal, you can't help but stare at it for a moment. “You can touch it if you want,” you hear him whisper with a chuckle.

When you look up into his face, you lick your lips and smirk. “I have a better idea,” you whisper back and shift on his lap once more, grabbing his shoulders to pull yourself as close to him as possible before you start moving your pelvis against him, feeling your wet folds sliding over his length as you grind against him slowly.

He immediately gives you the desired reaction and moans deeply, watching you with his eyebrows raised and his lips parted. “Good... idea...” he mutters breathlessly and grabs your waist to assist you in your movements. Together you move in a slow rhythm and you quickly feel your legs shaking and your core burning in pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you gasp and moan softly, before you close your eyes and lean into the sensation. You feel him gripping you tighter, his noises vibrating through you deliciously, before he suddenly grabs the back of your head and pulls your head towards him. Your mouths collide with a smack and after a desperate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes heavily against your lips. “You wanted me... to come inside you, right?” he whispers deeply.

You open your eyes and look at him, your vision blurry. “Yes...”

“Then please, take me inside already,” he says with a low chuckle. You watch him closely and realize that you are on top and he even confirms your suspicions. “This is your night, love, move at your own pace. Use me as your plaything,” he adds with a smirk.

You lick your lips and try to ignore his word choice for now. Inhaling deeply, you sit back on your knees and look down at his eagerly waiting cock. It's glistening from your slick and those veins bulge quite aesthetically and when you close your hand carefully around his shaft, you give them a light squeeze that causes another moan to fall from his lips.

With another reassuring look into his dark eyes, you lift yourself up and position his precum coated tip against your entrance. Watching you with heavy breaths, he gently massages your waist. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, not about doing it with him or because you think he might not fit, but because you've never been on top, you've never been in charge like this. He seems to sense your worries and reaches one of his hands up and grabs your face, gently caressing your cheek.

“You can do this,” he whispers and it's the sound of his voice that makes you start moving. “Yes, just lower yourself... slowly...” he comments and you bite your lip as you listen to him, your body doing the rest for you. He groans deeply when you feel his tip slipping past your entrance. “You're so tight...” he mutters, inhaling sharply.

You let out a moan and hold onto his shoulders with both hands after you let go of his cock as it slowly disappears inside you. You feel him moving further and further, deeper and deeper, filling you more and more, and the feeling is so new and foreign to you that you feel a deep shudder rushing through your entire body. A little whimper escapes you when you finally bury all of him inside you, and you are both impressed and terrified at the thought.

Breathing heavier, you settle on top of him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you try to adjust to his invasion and the sheer length and girth of him. You find him watching you equally breathlessly, his lips trembling slightly and his cheeks redder than you've ever seen them before. You lean in then and try to kiss him, but the motion causes you to move against him and you let out a wince when you feel him pushing so deep he's certainly poking something he probably shouldn't.

He doesn't seem to mind and finishes what you started as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeply as you let out another gasp. “Does it hurt?” he whispers into your mouth, but you shake your head.

“No, it's just... so new...” you confess and he grimaces darkly before he kisses you again. “But it feels so good...” you add and kiss the corner of his mouth as he gives you another smirk. “Having you all the way in there...” You inhale deeply and bite your lip. “Feels perfect...”

He moves his fingers into your hair and chuckles. “You just wait till we move together,” he whispers and pulls your mouth closer once more. You kiss him hungrily and wait for him to do what he just said, but he doesn't. When you lean back to look at him, he smiles. “I'm your plaything, use me however you like,” he says again, his voice low and sultry.

You chew on your tingling lips, before you grab his shoulders tighter and start leaning up on your knees, slowly raising your rear, feeling your walls clench around his length as if they don't want to part from it. He leans deeper into the couch and watches you, his hands letting go of you to rest on the back of the lumpy furniture piece. He truly lets you do all the work.

And you give your best as you keep moving up, before you move back down with a smack, coaxing a cry and a gasp out of your own throat and a deep moan out of him when he plunges back into you all the way. “Careful,” you hear him whisper with a smirk. “Ease into it,” he tells you and you nod, repeating the motion but a little more deliberate as you move back down on him.

Slowly you find your rhythm and he even starts assisting you as he puts his hands on your waist after all and guides you up and down. Your breaths are shallow and you feel your legs shaking under the exertion, but you keep going, your eyes on his face the entire time. His gaze is just as dark as yours. “Tell me... how it feels,” you whisper in between issuing moan after moan.

He exhales loudly through his nose as he smiles darkly at you. “Amazing,” he groans quietly. “You're so warm and tight... and how deep you can take me feels incredible...” His voice helps you in moving slightly faster now as you feel your insides tightening around him greedily. “Oh yes, you move those hips, love,” he breathes. “Just like that... you really are a natural...”

You bite your lip and move your hand to grab the back of his neck as you place your other hand on his chest, riding him faster and harder with every rapid heartbeat. The slapping of skin against skin and the squeaking of the old couch echo in your ears and fuel your desire to do anything to get that extra bit of friction, that extra scratch you need so badly as you grind your hips, feeling him stretching your walls and moving against those sweet spots. You moan louder and for once you don't care who can hear you.

All you care about is your pleasure and it feels so good and refreshing to have someone allow you to chase it. Even though he seems to really struggle beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully as he grunts and groans while you moan and whimper. “Are... are you... close?” you ask, your voice strained and shaking from your continuous motions as you move your entire body against him.

He lets out a deeper grunt and you see him squeeze his eyes shut. “You... first...” is all he utters. You lean closer then, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your chest against his. Your lips brush over his as you start moving your rear up and down as fast as you can, really leaning into it, and you hear him groan louder and faster as he too wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

You almost lose it right there and then when he starts pushing his hips upwards against you, mirroring your movements and doubling the sensation. Moaning right into his ear as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, you feel your walls clenching more and more despite the rapid movement of his cock sliding in and out of you as he fucks you open relentlessly. Your whimpers grow louder and you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.

“Please,” you hear him whisper hoarsely. “Come for me...”

You move faster, the heat almost unbearable now, and as you hold onto him and he holds onto you, you feel your muscles contracting, your insides convulsing, that sweet tension building and building, and when it finally burst into an explosion of tiny little lights, you cry out loudly, arching your back and sinking your fingernails into his shirt, gasping for air, before you collapse against him, breathlessly and spent, your limbs twitching and your heart ready to jump out of your chest.

Yet he keeps moving his hips against you even faster, the sound of your bodies connecting an obscenely wet one, the couch creaks beneath you, and his groans become louder and louder, until he shudders against you, his arms tightening around you to the point where you can barely breathe, and when he pushes your body hard onto his lap, burying his entire length as deeply as possible, he grunts and stills his movements, and you feel him twitching inside you, before something warm and wet fills you up as he mindlessly pumps his load into you.

You whimper softly as you lean against him, completely exhausted and yet so satisfied like you have never felt before. For a moment, none of you move, it's only the last tremors of your orgasms causing your limbs to twitch occasionally, before you hear him breathing heavily into your neck as he pushes his lips against your damp skin and kisses it lazily. “You're amazing...” he hums and you shudder deeply at the sound and sensation. “That was... amazing...”

You move your shaking fingers into his hair and gently caress his scalp, your breaths still shallow but not as frantic any more. “You... too...” you whisper quietly. “Thank you...”

He chuckles softly at that, his voice hoarse and strained as he speaks. “No, thank you. It really is the best feeling, you know?” He shifts beneath you and you gasp softly as he pushes his hips upwards once more. “Can you feel it? How warm and cosy it feels?” You nod your head, hoping he'll notice it. “I almost want to stay like that forever,” he continues quietly, his breath ghosting your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple over your heated skin. “You're the perfect fit...”

You breathe against him, fighting the thoughts pushing through your cloudy mind. Before you can help it, you feel a tear dropping from your lashes and a sob falling from your lips.

“Are you alright?” he asks immediately, loosening his grip on your body, but you keep clinging onto him, not wanting to face him right now. “Does it hurt? Shall I pull out?”

“No,” you say firmly. “I'm okay, don't move...” You feel him rubbing your back soothingly, his touch warm and comforting, and yet it causes more tears to roll down your cheeks. “I wish we --”

Suddenly he presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot on your skin and his voice vibrating through your head so intensely, it stops any ongoing thoughts instantly. “Please break up with him,” he whispers.

It's these words and his low voice and the need behind it that makes you lean back eventually. Ignoring the slight jab of pain as you shift on top of him, you look at him and his face is as flushed as yours feels. His eyes are dark, yet pleading, his lips parted and trembling. You reach out a hand to caress his cheek and push a wild strand of his messy hair out of his forehead, before you lean in and gently press your lips to his.

You'd be a fool if you'd ignore his request now. It wasn't just the amazing sex and all those moments before, it was the promise behind his words to treat you like this for as long as you'd let him. And how could you ever say no to those puppy-dog eyes? You chuckle at the thought and lean back, meeting his puzzled gaze. “I will,” you then tell him, as simple as that, and his reaction couldn't warm your heart more.

The smile spreads over his entire face, making those dimples pop and his eyes sparkle, and then he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulls you against him once more and kisses the side of your face with a happy chuckle. You laugh against him, relishing the warmth that courses through your entire body. And you know from that moment forwards that you need him to come inside you every blasted time.

Because it truly is the best feeling.

End notes: Breeding kink activated! He's converted another one!

And speaking of kink: that voice kink, right? Confession time: I cannot stop listening to Sebastian saying "forgotten", the way he pronounces that word is just *chef's kiss* to me! (I have it bookmarked, see link above... And even though it's the scene where he's angry with us, I cannot help but melt away at the sound of it XD)

On another note: With Kinktober over, what are we calling November? Because uh, no, I will not participate in No-Nut-November, excuse me? Our boy can't handle that! So Smutvember? Lovember?

While I wrote this I was imagining who that useless but sweet boyfriend would be - and while I have some ideas, I'd like to hear yours! Who do you think would be a great guy to talk to, but would be utterly useless in bed?

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3