#and 2 seconds from crashing out

[phantomsies]

me returning after a month of not posting shit with a head full of ideas knowing good and goddamn well I have a 8 page paper due Sunday

[padmesbox]

You love to bring up our record. Our record is 4 and 1 after you beat me at WrestleDream, and you beat me, I will give you that.

[givemeureyes]

NO YOU DONT GET IT S2 OF JUNO STEEL IS ALL ABOUT HOW PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE ALWAYS AND PEOPLE DO BAD THINGS WITH GOOD INTENTIONS AND THAT DOESNT MAKE IT OKAY BUT IT DOESNT MAKE THEM MONSTERS AND YOU DONT EVER HAVE TO FORGIVE THEM FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND THAT THEY DIDNT DO IT JUST BECAUSE THEY WERE EVIL TO AVOID MAKING THOSE SAME MISTAKES AND AHHHHHHH SKDJEJSKSKFNRNRISKCB RJCOKCNDJFIDJSNNFJCIFJDODODKWNALSPCJJRNRJDJDNDBEKSODN

[arolesbianism]

Some doodles

[littlelamy]

boat scene with rafe

requested by @gibson-g1rl l <3 😘 part 2

credits: oysters png from @saizun , and amazing gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The boat rocks beneath you as you step toward where Rafe sits bound against the wall, looking both furious and oddly vulnerable. You catch his eye as you enter the room, holding a small packet of aspirin and a plate of food. His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but his cocky smirk returns almost immediately.

“Look who’s here to take care of me,” he drawls, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone, though there’s a flicker of genuine relief in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to your words. You set the plate down next to him and hand over the aspirin, glancing away to avoid letting him see the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “Thought you’d need this. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

Rafe takes the aspirin from your hand, holding your gaze just a little too long before he swallows it dry. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting room service,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t know you cared this much.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “You should know by now I don’t want you dead, Rafe,” you say with a wry smile. “But don’t expect this to become a habit.”

He chuckles, the sound low and a little smug. “We’ll see about that,” he says, shifting against the ropes, clearly enjoying the attention. He nods toward the plate. “So, what—are you gonna feed me, too?”

You blink, taken aback by his nerve, and then raise an eyebrow, letting sarcasm color your voice. “Would you like me to? Or do you think you can manage?” You narrow your eyes, daring him to keep pushing.

Rafe’s smirk wavers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as he quickly looks away. “I can handle it,” he mutters, clearly flustered but trying to play it off. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to.” But you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips as you settle back, watching as he tries to pick up a piece of food from the plate with an awkward, fumbling grip, struggling against the restraints.

You stifle a laugh as he tries to eat without making a mess, and he catches you smiling, his jaw tightening. “Something funny?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of embarrassment in his tone.

You shrug, biting back your amusement. “Nothing at all. You look perfectly in control.”

Rafe grumbles under his breath, focusing intently on his food to avoid meeting your eyes. Another wave rocks the boat, causing you to steady yourself against the wall, and you look back to find him watching you, something almost like concern flickering in his gaze.

“Be careful,” he mutters, his voice softer, dropping the bravado for a split second.

For a moment, you just look at each other, the storm outside and the chaos around you fading into the background. His cocky expression softens, and he gives you a small, grateful nod. He won’t say it, but you know he’s thankful.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms as you lean back against the wall. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Rafe grins, his cockiness slipping back into place, but now it’s warmer, less of a wall and more like something shared just between the two of you. As he reaches for another bite, he murmurs, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And as much as you try to resist, you can’t help the small, reluctant smile that crosses your face in response.

The storm hits hard, the boat rocking violently beneath your feet. You’re barely able to keep your balance as you make your way through the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Waves crash against the hull, each one sending a jolt of panic through your body. But there’s something else clawing at you—something that won’t let you ignore the sound of Rafe’s voice, sharp and desperate, calling from another room.

“Come on! Cut me loose!” His voice cracks, the desperation in it too raw to ignore.

You freeze, breath catching in your throat. Rafe. He’s still tied up. The ropes are holding him in place as the boat teeters precariously on the brink of capsizing. You can hear Pope and Cleo yelling from the kitchen, their voices overlapping, trying to convince you to leave it alone. To save yourself. But you can’t. Not this time.

You grip the knife tighter, your fingers cold and trembling from the anxiety rising in your chest. There’s no time to think. Rafe’s call keeps echoing in your head, and that voice—the urgency, the fear—pushes you forward. You make your way toward the room where you heard him last, the sound of the storm growing louder as it pounds against the sides of the boat.

Before you even get to the door, Cleo’s voice rings out. “No! Y/N, No!”

Pope’s voice follows, sharper. “Y/N, stop don’t let him out!”

But you keep moving. You don’t stop. You can’t. There’s no way you’re going to let Rafe stay there, helpless and bound, when you can do something about it.

When you reach the door, you shove it open, and the sight of Rafe tied up against the far wall hits you with a jolt. He’s slumped slightly, sweat slicking his forehead, his face drawn with exhaustion and frustration. His eyes snap to you, and for a split second, they soften with something almost like relief.

“Cut me loose, come on!” He says again, his voice strained, but louder this time, more insistent.

His hands are bound tightly in thick ropes, his legs spread out uncomfortably beneath him. The ropes seem too thick for him to break on his own. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles twitch from the strain, and the panic that flickers behind his gaze. There’s no time to waste. You don’t think twice. You crouch in front of him, the knife in your hand glinting in the low light.

Rafe watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Don’t make me regret this,” you murmur, feeling your heart beat faster as you cut into the thick rope that’s holding him in place. Your hands are shaking, the knife slipping slightly as the boat tilts again, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Come on, hurry up.” His words are clipped, desperate, and you push aside the nervous tightness in your chest as you work faster, cutting the ropes.

You’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, a stark contrast to the cold, wet air from the storm. The boat groans as another wave slams against it, and Rafe’s eyes flicker to the window, then back to you.

“Please,” he breathes, and it’s that one word that makes everything else fade away—the roaring storm, the panicked shouting from the others, the ticking clock of time slipping away.

The last thread gives way with a sharp cut, and Rafe’s hands are free. His arms immediately reach for you, grabbing hold of your wrist with a surprising amount of force, pulling himself upright.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice rough, but there’s something deeper in it, something like a sense of vulnerability you’ve never seen from him before.

You don’t have time to say anything, to wonder if he’s really thankful or if he’s just grateful to be free. The boat shudders violently, and you both stumble as the hull groans beneath you. The wind howls outside, whipping against the windows, and you know there’s not much time before things get worse.

Rafe doesn’t wait for an invitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward the narrow hallway. “We need to get to somewhere safer,” he says, his tone not leaving any room for an argument.

You’re both moving quickly, though the boat keeps pitching wildly. The wind screeches, and water sloshes against the floorboards. Every step feels like a risk, like the boat could capsize at any moment. But Rafe doesn’t let go of your arm. He pulls you behind him, guiding you toward a small corner near the engine room, the only place that might offer even the slightest bit of shelter.

You slide into the corner, pressing yourself against the cold wall. It’s not the safest place, but in the madness of the storm, it’s all you have. Rafe follows, wedging himself beside you. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, but you don’t mind. You’re not focused on that right now. All you can think about is how the boat is rocking, how you’re both on the brink of disaster, and how Rafe’s body is so close to yours.

He leans into you, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, he pulls away, but then his hand is at your waist, his grip tightening. It’s almost like he’s afraid you might slip away from him. He presses his body closer, his face now inches from yours, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart.

Rafe places his head on your neck, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath on your skin is both comforting and unsettling, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you place your hand on his back, the pressure of your touch grounding both of you as the storm rages on around you.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself.

Rafe doesn’t respond, but you feel his muscles relax, his tense body unwinding little by little. He’s not just holding onto you for stability; it feels like he’s holding onto you for something more. You can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way he leans into you, something raw and vulnerable that you’ve never seen before.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln

[fleurdov]

i ran out of tags room that’s how you know this is serious krkdkdkkdlx but i was thinking!

actually you know what rory is that girl!!

bc think about it this rich kids could of definitely just paid each other to lie and get her out expeditiously like they obviously have the resources for that and blackmail! it makes no sense to attack rory?? but i guess? she bothers yeji sooooo much they got this whole elaborate plan to pay off the houses, take her man, make her crash out by taking her friends, spy on her and all the other things i’m forgetting to mention not to mention during this plan seonghwa definitely gets something outta this, she’s still got guys to be at her beck and call, she’s maintaining good grades and her scholarship, two situationships (1 whole is a snake and the other is a rat and is in love with her but okay)and 2 heartbreaks,all while being in a house full of rats and then sneaking out to go into another house full of snakes praying on her downfall. and on top of that! the girls are still telling her she should be president! yea she is that girl! she’s not thriving and she’s definitely falling down fighting for her life but she’s like that girl to cause all that conversation nonetheless kfkcklclclx

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 16k exact. (part SEVEN of ???) good luck. ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

{ there are names & faces in here that come from NMWID <3 }

september 23rd ~ monday ~ 11:20 a.m.

“I’ll take a shot of vodka, or something else, whatever you’ve got.”

Theo smiled, then shook his head, leaning over the counter toward you.

“You can get that later down the street,” he said. “Want me to surprise you if you aren’t gonna make a decision?”

Clasping your hand over your hoodie you shrugged. “Please.”

Getting to work, he sent the occasional glance over his shoulder. “You’re in a weird mood, what happened?” He wrapped his hand around a large sized cup and took it to the espresso machine. “What’s happened since Friday, I should say.”

A lot, you wanted to say. You’ve realized you’ve fallen in love with a boy who was your best friend, said boy has snuck onto your roof and confessed his love for you, you’re both set to ‘break up’ with people you aren’t even together with, and all the meanwhile the boys girl has started a lie that has now spread throughout the ITZ house.

Nothing has been said to Yunho or Tori as of yet, you were meeting Tori for lunch after your noon classes so you would tell her there. The video had to still be up on Chan's profile, those things lasted for twenty four hours. She was a liar, Mina was. Though you can’t piece together at the moment why she would lie about something like this. Chan is her brother, and he’s apparently been through many struggles in his lifetime.

Your father has been through many struggles in his lifetime, never once do you ever use his shit as an excuse for your behavior, nor would you ever use his shit as a way to warp people’s minds, their feelings. The beings in both houses knew little of your dad, aside from Yunho, Tori and unfortunately Wooyoung. You’re sure Mingi knew a little something, he’s dating Tori, but you don’t care what he knew. If he’s trustworthy enough to date Tori, he’s trustworthy to know who and what your father is.

Mina’s pretty, she’s smart, she comes from a good family. Why would she lie?

Pulling out your phone you open a thread of messages and type away.

[you]: we have to talk about something questionable

It took him three seconds to respond.

[youknow everythin]: This is how you answer my good morning text? What did you just wake up?

[you]: i’m at blend i have a class in thirty

[you]: i’m sorry i didn’t answer, i read it before i got in the shower

[youknow everythin]: Take me in the shower with you, duh

[you]: you are such a boy

[you]: any mina updates

[youknow everythin]: She’s hurting. I told you last night what she was saying, her brother and all that. I got the full run down. She was keeping a lot from me this summer.

You tried real hard to not let those words tug at your heart.

[youknow everythin]: You know what it made me think of? That psych thing or whatever it is, the invisible child thing? Where one childs needs are so great that the other kid kind of goes unnoticed? But… Not totally unnoticed, they’re just more self sufficient? I feel like that’s Mina. She just needs someone to see her.

That made your stomach feel weird.

And not because of his last sentence.

Because you understood.

You didn’t have any siblings, but you had to grow up pretty self-sufficient.

[you]: damn i didn’t think of it like that

[you]: makes me feel like a bitch for what i’m about to say

[youknow everythin]: Tell me

“You are so out of it,” Theo said, handing the beautifully decorated coffee over to you. With whipped cream on the top he swirled caramel around it. Looking up at him, he gave you a smile and stepped away from the counter to take care of another customer who had appeared beside you while you were focused on your screen. 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed.

[you]: i think she’s lying about her brother

“The drama never ends,” you whispered, picking up the coffee to take a sip of it. It was equally sweet as it was caffeinated. “Oh my god,” you groaned after a swallow. Theo smirked over his shoulder. “I’ll text you the money,” you said, tapping away to open his messages, but he stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, flipping the other person's coffee over to shake it. “Someone left you an allowance. I think you’re good for the rest of the semester to be honest.” He chuckled as your brows rose. “You have another friend down at ATZ, and I assume he’s told you all about me.”

“Soul,” you mumbled, and Theo shot you a look that did little to warm your heart. “Yeah, he, uh, he told me.”

Popping a lid on the small sized cup in his hand, he slid it over the counter to the person next to you and muttered, “Three eighty seven,” and took the cash as they handed it over. “I don’t want to tell you to stay away from him,” Theo said to you, giving the person their change, “He’s really not that bad of a guy.” Shifting back over to your side of the counter, he leaned over on his elbows and looked up at you. “He’s just been through some shit.”

Rolling your eyes, you sipped your drink and tried not to laugh. “Seems to be the theme of the day.” Theo flattened his lips into some sort of smile. “What was her name?”

He closed his eyes and released a breath. “Soojin.” When his eyes met yours he laughed at your pout. “Don’t, it’s okay. She was a year below me in school, they had another year of high school together, I was here, it wasn’t a big deal.”

With another sip, you tried to hide behind your straw when you asked, “When did it happen?”

Theo smirked, assessed his surroundings and the little people that were inside his cafe. “She was a senior, he was a sophomore, I was a freshman trying to get into the prestigious ATZ. I was upset when it happened of course, she and I were still dating, but, when you really look at it, what kind of senior in high school takes an interest in a sophomore…”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, your eyes going wide. Theo grinned.

“Yeah, so I ended that quick,” he nodded once, standing up to clean up behind his counter. “And, I made sure Shota was okay, even though he was all smug about it. He was sixteen, he had every right to think he was hot shit for sleeping with a senior, but brotha’ was a victim.”

Soul’s dark eyes that never seemed to have a thought behind them came to mind, and you were gutted. “Tae, oh my god,” you said and he shrugged, wiping down his machines. “He told me that you hate him for it.”

Theo huffed a laugh, then hung his head for a few seconds. “If that’s what he wants to believe, I’ll take it. I don’t hate him,” he turned to give you a look. “He’s impressionable. Don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s not… all there,” he came closer to you. “His parents are… were… kinda messed up. You can’t tell him I said any of this,” Theo pointed at you, his eyes going stern.

“Promise,” you whispered, holding up a hand.

Theo tapped his fingers on the counter, watching them for a moment. “He was in therapy for a while.”

“Weren’t we all?” you attempted to lighten the air, smiling, and he laughed.

“I guess at some point,” he breathed. “I mean, I was after my parents got divorced, so… No, but, Shota, he’s been into a lot of things kids shouldn’t get into. This ability for him to… attract… that kind of attention, like with Soojin, I don’t know, it’s…” 

“His eyes,” you whispered, and Theo never looked at you faster. Sheepishly smiling, you said, “He’s been following me around for a little bit now, Tae. He showed up to ITZ one night.” Theo’s eyes shot open wide. You nodded. “Yeah, he’s persistent. I can kinda see why he’d so easily coerce someone… Not saying that’s what he did, or has done, but… Yanno?”

Theo thought about it, then asked, “So, you were catchin’ a crush?”

“No,” you said, hushed and rushed. “I have way too much happening to have a crush on a freshman. That makes me Soojin, just many years later.” He smiled, popping his brows. “And, now that I know he’s your little brother? That’d be weird. You and I were dates at Date Night last winter, my allegiance is to you, Taeyang.”

“I’ll never forget Wooyoung's face when we got picked,” he said, and you both shared a smile. “He was pissed.”

Names were chosen at random between the sorority and the fraternity, pairs made for the night. Date Night, one of the more exciting events thrown between the houses, kicked off with a bang though neither house raised enough to put toward this current year. Still, it was fun, and you were paired with Theo who drank your required liquor when you couldn’t stomach anymore. The two of you danced, you laughed, you hung out with Tori and Yeosang, her randomly chosen date, and you partied until the next morning. 

The kicker… You were strapped together at the wrist. You physically could not leave your date alone, and if someone else wanted to talk to you, you had to talk to their date, too.

Vernon was paired with Isla.

Yuna and Jongho were matched up.

Ryujin and San.

Chaeryeong was paired with a senior, as well as Mingi, like you and Theo.

Hongjoong had a senior from ITZ on his wrist.

Seonghwa and Lia both had freshman recruits.

Yunho got lucky enough to have Mina follow him around.

And, Wooyoung had Yeji.

You could say that was the start of the downfall, that Yeji and Wooyung were paired up together, so who knows if that night they hooked up as well, but you’ve stopped letting the thought bother you.

“It was fun,” you gave him a small smile.

“It was.” He returned it. “Are you guys gonna do that again? I know that one’s like tradition, right?”

“Tori has it on the schedule,” you said. “She’s stuck it sometime in October now, I think around Halloween? It might land on her birthday, I’m not so sure.”

“Well,” he stood up straight, having leaned over the counter again, and slapped his hands on the vinyl. “If you get paired with Shota, keep an eye on him.”

“Think I might do that regardless now, Tae,” you said, lifting your drink a bit to signal your exit. “Thanks again.”

Theo smirked and watched you leave the cafe. “Thank my brother.”

september 23rd ~ monday ~ 1:47 p.m.

[youknow everythin]: Rory there’s nothing there though, we can’t just assume, can we?

“It was here yesterday!”

Sitting forward, you laid your phone on the table beside your plate and groaned in frustration. Tori, cross legged with her waves over her shoulders, watched you with a raised brow.

“He deleted it, he had to have deleted it,” you whispered, refreshing Chan's profile three times before giving Tori a look of dismay. “When we were at the library, he posted it.”

“It’s been a day, it’s not going to be there anymore,” she said, picking up her fork. “I want to believe you, though.”

Eyes bugging out of your head, you attempted to refresh the page again. “You don’t believe me? How?” When you met her eyes again the taste in your mouth went sour. “Tori, I’m not lying to you, I swear to God, she is lying to us.”

“What person would lie about their brother like that?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you shouted, and many heads turned your way. The two of you were at a small table toward the front of the sushi restaurant you stormed out of over a week ago. “Yunho thinks she’s got that invisible child thing. You know, where they pry for attention, or something.”

Tori, sipping her water, rolled her eyes. “Listen, I want to believe you, Ror, but now that you’ve got this thing with Yunho, it looks like you’re trying to make her the bad guy.”

Right, she was still miffed about the whole situation.

“I know what it looks like, okay?” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m not trying to… Win the boy, or whatever it is you think I’m doing. I have the boy. It’s not about that.”

Tori sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “You do, do you?” You nodded and she pursed her lips. “Then, what is it about? If she is lying like you say she is, what’s the point of calling her out for it? Just let it go, all shit comes out eventually.”

She was right.

Letting her go back to her sushi, you swiped back to your messages.

[youknow everythin]: She has been giving me specific updates, Rory

[youknow everythin]: I don’t think she’s lying

september 24th ~ tuesday ~ 2:44 p.m.

In four days you and your sisters would be walking through the doors of ATZ with your recruits. The two houses would come together for dinner, an introduction of sorts, a welcome to the life type of night. There have been freshmen in and out of the house since yesterday morning, touring the property, meeting the board, sucking up to Yeji who spoke to them all with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

Standing in the foyer now, your new dark blue ITZ t-shirt on and tucked into the waist of your jeans, two girls walking through the door in sundresses caught your eye. Wide eyed and excited, they gasped to themselves as they gaped up at the ceiling, the two of them arm in arm, linked together. It reminded you of you and Tori. They joined the few girls already walking the first floor, taking in the photos on the wall, reading every description, every story that lived on the white paint.

Ryujin, in the same t-shirt, stood beside you. Nudging her side, you gestured toward the girls.

“Those are the two I met at ATZ,” you whispered. Ryujin scanned the group, then found them and squinted. “They’re freshmen, and I think they come as a pair. Can’t buy them separately.”

“Like you and Tor,” Ryujin mumbled, and you smiled. “My gaydar is going off looking at the shorter one, I can probably make some magic happen.” Fluffing her shaggy hair, she adjusted her shirt to be a bit more frumpy, letting it hang over the waist of her wide legged jeans. She was gone in seconds, flashing a sideways smile to both girls who shook Ryujin’s hand with caution. Sure enough, the shorter one let her eyes slip up and down the seniors frame, but that could mean anything. Ryujin was walking sex appeal, if you swung that way you’d be sneaking out of her room every morning instead of an ATZ bedroom.

Taking a quiet moment for yourself, not being bothered by freshman looking to kiss ass, you pulled out your phone and checked your messages.

[youknow everythin]: How's it going over there? These freshman are ridiculous

Smiling, you worked your fingers on the keys.

[you]: at least you don’t have to listen to a trillion female empowerment stories

[you]: think every girl in this house right now has told the same story

[you]: i think i love it though, they all have something to prove, it’s admirable

[youknow everythin]: Does it remind you of your recruitment? 

[you]: totally, i was coming from a single father who lived paycheck to paycheck, i had to be obnoxious and prove myself. i’m seeing a lot of yeji’s and chaeryeong’s in this crowd. money money money

[youknow everythin]: Same over here, lots of guys flashing their bank accounts. And why is everyone a business major?

[you]: hey, don’t diss

[youknow everythin]: Not what I meant <3 <3 <3

[youknow everythin]: Have you talked to Seonghwa about anything yet? I assume not because he’s been nice to me all day

[you]: no, we should just wait a little bit. shit isn’t hitting the fan right now, we’ll be better off later. you haven’t said anything to mina yet?

[youknow everythin]: Not with this brother thing happening. Plus, she's VP so she’s got a lot on her plate at the moment.

Glancing up at her now, the Vice President, it was written on her t-shirt that she tucked into her denim skirt. Jeans were the dress code for this day, but apparently any denim was acceptable. She was smiling ear to ear while she spoke to a group of girls that gazed up at her with starry eyes. Admitting to yourself that it was impressive she was Vice President already, a sophomore, it didn’t make the feeling in your gut lessen.

Something was off.

It made you wonder if she heard your conversation with Tori the other day.

[you]: understood. keeping shit undercover

[youknow everythin]: It’s been hard to keep Mingi quiet. He’s so nosey. He wants to talk about us all the time.

[you]: us

[youknow everythin]: Us

[youknow everythin]: <3

“Great turn out today, don’t you think?”

Chills ran down your spine. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turned over your shoulder and plastered a smile onto your face.

“So great,” you said. “I was just thinking about how there are so many like minded girls in here that have something to prove.”

Yeji pierced you with her fox-like gaze, attempting to look through you, into you. In all of the past weeks you’ve never had to be one on one with her, you’ve only had to deal with her in meetings. Her ombre hair curled perfectly laid over her shoulders, tucked behind one ear, showed off the diamonds she was wearing in her lobes. In her t-shirt and skinny jeans, she topped off the fit with strappy black heels and thin silver and gold bracelets on her wrists.

“Like minded?” Yeji asked, letting her eyes leave you for only a second to take in the group. “Explain.”

Swallowing, your mouth had gone dry, you nodded. “Their grades are fantastic, first of all, which you know to me is the most important of all.” Yeji narrowed her eyes. “But, the stories they’re telling us, what they’ve gone through to get here, some being told they’ll never make it to this school, that they’ll never get far… And, they’re here.” She bobbed her head, and smiled once you said, “It makes me think of Mina.”

“Does it?” she questioned, taking a peek at her second speaking with the girls.

“It does,” you whispered. “Everything with her family, yanno? She’s here, at Nasara, and she did that for herself. It’s incredible. I mean, even Isla, she wanted to do something for herself and she’s-”

“Leaving us in a day or two,” Yeji muttered, and your heart stopped. Taking in the shock on your face, she nodded, her stone cold expression never changing. “Don’t worry, she’s not being kicked out. Her brother has been in contact with us. He’s going to come get her, she needs his help. I’ll be sharing the news with Ryujin tonight, so if you could do me a solid and not tell anybody?”

Looking for the senior, the unsuspecting girl laughing it up with the two girls you met at the party, the walls seemed to tighten around you a smidge. She had no idea she was losing her roommate of the last three years. The two met on this day, Ryujin a sophomore, Isla a freshman. They clicked, they understood one another, they became best friends. Ryujin has done so much for Isla within the last year, and now she’d have to go through her most important year alone.

“She’s withdrawing?” you asked Yeji.

“She’s done,” the president nodded. “Withdrawn from classes, from the sorority, from Nasara entirely.”

“Where will she go?”

“With DK,” Yeji shrugged. “We don’t have the ability to help her here. She needs her family. That’s important, you know that, right? Family?” The look she gave you before she scampered away to greet some more freshmen wandering into the house was unreadable. 

february 14th ~ thursday ~ last semester ~ 11:21 p.m.

The ball hit the edge of the cup and bounced onto the floor, a choir of groans echoing throughout the crowded living room. Bumping into Tori, your pong partner, you grabbed onto her arm and voiced your own disappointment. Across the table, the two boys you were playing simply laughed.

“Leave us alone!” Tori shouted playfully. “She’s not good at this, okay, we know this!”

Blushing, you laughed aloud, too drunk to care that she had half roasted you while trying to defend you. “I suck!”

“You do, is that the best you’ve got?” Yunho grilled, wearing a devious smirk on his lips. Poking his tongue out the corner when you looked at him, he raised his brows and motioned toward himself with his fingers. 

Mingi elbowed him, smiling at his girl from across the table doused in beer and liquor. The room was dark, people in the crowd around you were using their flashlights on their phones to light up the table for you four. You were both down to the last three ups on either side.

“She doesn’t seem so bad, you guys are tied.” A voice that wrapped around your heart made you smile. Turning around you bump into Wooyoung who wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his chest. Bringing his lips to your ear he said, “Stand up straight, keep your elbows to yourself and throw without thinking too hard.”

Pulling away from him, he kept a hand on your back, he smiled at you and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Following his instructions, standing up straight, you made eye contact with Yunho who now wore a scowl. Music flooded your ears, peoples shouts from everywhere in the house threatened to pull your liquor fueled brain elsewhere. Wooyoung took his hand around your waist and gave you a squeeze.

“Breathe,” he said, and you listened. “Look at the cup… Good.” You turned your chin to look at him and he laughed, using his other hand to maneuver your focus back to the table. “Look at the cup, baby, you can do this, prove them wrong, I know you can.”

“Don’t think someone’s allowed to touch the player while they throw,” Yunho called out, and Mingi laughed. Tori shut him up with a glare. 

Wooyoung curled his lip. “Shut up.” Moving behind you, putting both hands on your waist, he cradled his chin into your neck. “Throw it. Show them.” His lips ghosted your skin and you longed to drop the ball and spin around in his arms, but the way Yunho was glaring at you made you want to throw the ball at his head instead of the red cups waiting for you.

“Any day now,” Yunho complained, tipping his chin backward.

“Ro, shut this guy up,” Wooyoung said loud enough for him to hear. Smiling, feeling his hands press into your waist, you pulled your hand back and released the ball. It went into a cup and swirled around in circles, and the three of you on your end of the table cheered for half a second.

Yunho dipped his fingers inside and flicked it out, both him and Mingi laughing together. The crowd was impartial, no one knew who to be happy for.

“Are you kidding me?” Wooyoung spat, pulling you away from the table, planting his hands on the edge. Yunho raised a brow, a shiteating smirk on his lips.

“That’s the game,” he said.

“You’re a piece of shit, just let her have it,” Wooyoung said, throwing a hand toward the cups left in front of the boy many inches taller than him. “It’s one cup.”

Yunho glanced down, then scoffed. “Yeah, it’s one cup,” he parroted, and Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “She’ll get it again, though she’s missed the last ten shots.”

Tori circled the table and ended up somewhere around Mingi, her boyfriend craning his neck down to press kisses to her cheek. Waiting behind Wooyoung, not knowing what the hell was going to happen, you turned around and found San making his way through the crowd. Raising your hands in the air, you shouted for him.

“Sannie!”

His face lit up. “Ror!” Elbowing past bodies, he found your side and groaned. “Oh no,” he slung himself over your back when you turned around to face the table. “What happened? Why’s he mad?”

Pointing at Yunho, your best friend giving you two ounces of attention, scrunching his nose at San, you said, “He was talkin’ shit, I threw the ball like Wooyoung said, I made it in, but Yo knocked it out.”

San shook his head. “No, you’re kidding, shit move, Yunho!” He looked back at you and San at the sound of his name. “You always play girls like that?” 

Wooyoung smiled at San and held up a hand. “Hang on.” Pointing at Yunho, he said, “Own up to it. Or, you give me the balls, and if I make it in the other two cups, the girls win and you both forfeit for the night. I’m tired of seeing you both standing over here.”

Yunho and Mingi shared a look. From beneath his arm Tori said, “You don’t have to be a jerk, Wooyoung.”

Giving your roommate a look, he quirked a brow. “You wanna take their side over your own sisters? Damn, Tori, that says a lot about you doesn’t it?” San snickered behind you, his hands tangling over your chest. Wooyoung turned back to Yunho. “Balls,” he wiggled his fingers, and the boy obeyed, rolling them across the table. Clutching them both, Wooyoung rolled them in his hands and smirked. “I make it in those two, the ones she didn’t touch, they win. You’re done.”

Yunho crossed his arms and tilted his head back, the smug look in his face doing something to you. “Do it,” he scoffed. “If you don’t make it you have to leave for the rest of the night, how about that?”

Wooyoung threw both balls, one right after the other. They landed in both cups, the ones you didn’t touch, with a splash. The room lost their minds. Yunho and Mingi dropped their arms in shock.

Wrapping an arm around you, acquiring you from San, Wooyoung flashed them a sweet smile. “I was planning on leaving anyway.” And he whisked you out of the living room, leaving the boys dumbfounded behind you.

Barreling through people, both of you laughing, you babbling on about how crazy of a shot that was, you were seconds away from telling him he got lucky when he pressed you against the wall in the hallway, just short of the stairs. 

Almost nose to nose, he placed a hand on the wallpaper and the other to your cheek, dragging his thumb over your skin. He wore a smile, his lips closed hiding his perfect teeth. His hair hung over his forehead, the waves having been pushed side to side all night.

“Did you like the way he was talking to you?” he asked, letting his fingers dance into your hair, pushing it gently off your shoulders that were bare in Tori’s strapless top you borrowed.

Blinking, getting lost in the depths of almond eyes, you took a breath. “Who, Yunho?” Wooyoung nodded, the smallest gesture. “Not really, but it’s Yunho, he never really means what he says. He could talk all the shit in the world and then seconds later his mood changed.”

“It wasn’t cool, Ro,” he said, his hand taking to your shoulder, not dropping any further. “I didn’t like it.” His lips formed a pout. “He was talking about my girl.” Your cheeks warmed, and he smiled, flashing you his perfect teeth. His beauty was indescribable, you couldn’t put words to it. So unique, so undeniably gorgeous. He was a wanted man, and he was here in your arms.

“Your girl,” you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. “Since when am I your girl?”

Laughing to himself, he brought both of his hands over your neck, his hands taking to your chin, tilting you upward. His grip was gentle, everything about how he dealt with you was gentle. “I want you to be my girl,” he whispered. “But you get hung up on jackasses, just pay attention to me, Ro, these other guys don’t matter.”

Blinking a few times, you muttered, “Wooyo, I’m drunk.” Exhaling heavily, you wiggled in his grip and he let you go. “I pay attention to you, what’re you talking about?”

Having taken a step backward, his hands were to himself. “You do,” he said. “I just mean… Nevermind.”

This time you came closer to him, sliding your arms around his neck, pulling him in. He walked backward so he could lean against the wall. Taking his arms around your back, he gazed down at you, studying you, taking in every little piece of you.

“We can talk when you’re not drunk,” he whispered, dipping his chin down to brush his nose against your own. Whispering your agreement, he smiled, then tilted his chin and pressed his lips to yours. In mere seconds your hands were in his hair, holding onto him like he’d soon run away. You yearned to melt into him, to stay here forever with his lips on yours, taking your time as if it was the first time you’ve found yourself here.

He treated each kiss like it was fragile, like if he moved too fast the moment would end. Soft lips pulling you under, his tongue meeting yours to deepen it further. There was no rush, no hurriedness about it. By now one would figure you’d be pulled upstairs and stripped to nothing, but, not with Wooyoung. Not now.

Neither of you crossed that line. Neither of you wanted to, not yet. Though many, many make outs, like this one, have ended with sweaty skin and the need to change your pants, both of you, the drive to go further always pulled you both back. Wooyoung had always been quicker to stop it, to stop you if your hand fell to the button of his pants, or if you seemed to fall into some sort of conditioned way of moving about him. 

At first it was strange, him wanting to take his time, but for a couple months now you’ve both been reeling in the build up, in the excitement of what’s to come, the two of you unspokenly going about this thing like it were your first time ever.

“Aurora,” Wooyoung whispered, touching his forehead to yours. Looking up at him through your lashes you smiled. “So beautiful,” he kept his voice low, just for you. “Promise me,” he said, and you lowered your brows. “Promise me you’ll stay away from them.”

“Away from who?”

“Don’t let them pull you into their games,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s how this shit works, this life. They won’t stop until they win.” His hands slipped into your hair, pushing it away. Pausing, he studied you once more and kissed you. “They’ll snuff out anything standing in their way.”

september 25th ~ wednesday ~ 7:15 p.m.

[you]: hey, hope its okay tae gave me your number… you didnt have to do this, but thank you. i’ll blame you for the caffeine addiction next semester

[soul]: come to atz to thank me in person

[you]: too much to do, sorry friend. i’ll see you on saturday, right?? you used your brain instead of your wallet, yeah?

[soul]: yeah…… something like that.

[you]: good. keep it up.

[you]: do me a solid?

[soul]: anything for you

[you]: tell yunho to answer his phone if you can find him, he’s supposed to meet me somewhere and i think he’s drowning in books right now

[you]: hope those boys arent giving you too much of a hard time

[soul]: not at all :)

He was fifteen minutes late. That’s extremely unlike him. Yunho was a cluster fuck, but he was a punctual cluster fuck. 

The two of you were finally meeting at Blend. You had secured a booth in the farthest corner, not that the place was buzzing with life anyway. Away from the windows, away from the door. You weren’t looking to create any problems. All of your board members were busy situating girls to rooms anyways, all of the details needing to be mapped out by Friday morning when all of the new recruits would arrive.

Tori let you in on the secret, there were maybe ten at max that made it through all the way. There were only a couple set aside for now, needing a couple more details set in stone before they could move forward. 

Not needed around the house, actually trying to stay out of everybody's way, you were able to corral Yunho to agree to come out this evening. Unfortunately it looks like homework may win again, however. You wanted to unpack this month with him, unpack what had happened on the roof, discuss Mina when you both weren’t delirious and half asleep.

Sending him the second ‘where are you’ text, you locked your phone and tossed it to the table as the door to Blend swung open. Heart hoping it was Yunho waltzing inside with a hilarious apology, you’re surprised to see Seonghwa, in all black of course. He had his hair pulled back in a tie, hanging low on his neck. It took him three seconds to find you, his eyes scanning the room as if he smelled you the second he walked in. 

“Ror,” he said, his voice and his smile giving you some sort of comfort.

“Hey,” you said quietly, toying with the straw in your cup. Seonghwa gave the smallest wave, if you could call it that, to Theo, then he changed his course and came over to you, leaving the barista dumbfounded as his eyes followed him over to you. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa half laughed, sliding into the booth across from you, leaving his legs dangling out the side, his feet touching the floor. He slid his hand across the table and brushed his fingers over yours. “I’ve been feeling a little off, think I wanted something warm to drink.”

Raising a finger, letting him slip one beneath yours, you tilted your head. “Feeling sick?”

He shifted in his seat, swinging his legs underneath the table, his knees bumping into yours. His height was unreal. “No, not sick,” he muttered. “Just… off.”

Hooking your finger onto his, you pouted. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Nodding toward the counter where Theo worked behind it without a sound, Seonghwa glanced over there. “Get a drink,” you smiled. “It’s on me.”

Blinking once, he moved his eyes to you, then he released a laugh. “Now that I can’t do.”

“Why not?” you asked, watching him lace his fingers within yours.

“Because,” he whispered, his lashes fluttering as he spoke.

Leaning over the table, you lowered your voice and flipped your brows. “You helped me, now let me help you.”

Seonghwa mainted face. “Did I?” His voice was a whisper. Eyes sharp, the sudden vulnerability swallowed you. A lot has happened since you slept with him. 

At least it felt like a lot.

“I mean, yeah,” you said with a small shrug. Clenching his jaw he glanced at your hands.

“Then you won’t be upset if I tell you he went to see Mina tonight?”

You yanked your hand back, tucking it into your lap with the other. Nausea filled your gut, you could get sick in front of him right here.

“She’s been having a hard time, I've heard, they talk everyday.”

Gulping away the lump in your throat you dropped your eyes to the table and sucked in a shaky breath.

He told you he’d be here.

He promised you that you would talk, about everything.

He hasn’t said that word since he snuck onto your roof.

“Ror?” Seonghwa tapped one of his fingers on the table, pulling you from your thoughts that didn’t circle as much as you thought they would. It was simple. “You okay?”

Rolling your shoulders back, sitting up straight, you sighed and smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Seonghwa tried to smile, but his lips could only crinkle as the corners lifted.

“You sure?” he whispered.

The space between your lungs tightened. “No,” you breathed, lifting your hand back onto the table, touching your finger tip to his. Seonghwa looked down at them for half a second. “I thought…”

He bit the bullet and folded his hand within yours again. “Tell me.”

The rub of his thumb over the back of your hand soothed the hurt. “Just thought I really had him this time.”

His brows lowered ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”

Tightening your grip on his hand, his thumb stopped moving. “Hwa, you can’t get mad,” you whispered, poking out your bottom lip a bit, praying your shining eyes would persuade him enough.

“Why would I be mad?” he questioned, his voice going deep.

“Because,” you said, and he narrowed his eyes. “Tori told me you do this… thing. Well, really, Mingi told her.” Seonghwa blew air out his lips and let his eyes close for a second. “I’m serious. You gave me a crazy ass hickey, Hwa. Apparently that means I belong to you.” Ignoring how his eyes darkened, you smiled when he did.

“A man can’t just do it ‘cause he likes it?” he snickered, shaking his head. Shrugging your shoulders, his thumb resumed its dance over your skin. “Ror, you don’t belong to me. Did I love our night together, fuck yes, you know how to ride a dick.”

“Hwa!” you giggled, glancing around the cafe, taking a peek at Theo making a drink behind the counter for a customer not present. He didn’t hear him.

“You're cute when your cheeks go all pink,” he mumbled, bringing your attention back to him. “When did you guys happen? At the next one?”

“Jesus, Seonghwa, I’m not an animal.”

“I am,” he smirked, getting the exact reaction out of you he was hoping.

Calming your smile, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head vigorously. “Stop,” you laughed, “I think it was like a week after, or something. You picked me up and brought me to the party where it all… went to shit, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No, it’s not your fault, come on.” Wiggling your hand in his you forced his eyes to yours and you smiled what you could. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Seonghwa took a breath and adjusted himself in his seat. “I mean,” he smirked, “Technicaly you did, I said fuck him.”

Laughing with him, you groaned. “Bad idea. Bad idea.”

“It was?” he asked, leaning forward. “I thought you really liked him.”

“Unfortunately I think I do,” you said. “But, at the same time, and I said this to Tori… I don’t know what that feels like.” Seonghwa zoned in his focus and slowly nodded. “I’m… attracted and all that, but I don’t know what it feels like to… be in love with somebody.”

“Love, sheesh,” he muttered. “Who uses that word anymore?”

“Yunho,” you whispered, giving him a sheepish look, one he raised his brows at. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Don’t spill that to anybody. I trust you.”

Seonghwa smiled. “I know you do, that’s why you let me-“

“Stop,” you cut him off with a wide smile, your tone singing a song. Laying your other hand on top of his, you took a deep breath. “We’re not gonna talk about that, okay?”

“Okay,” he said with a bow of his head.

The door to Blend opened, not nearly as confident as when Seonghwa came in. Turning a bit to peek at who it was, your nerves shook themselves awake.

He didn’t see you until he was at the counter, grabbing onto the small white cup that Theo slid over to him.

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said loud enough to get the boy to turn. He wore a leather jacket, one hand shoved inside a pocket, and dark blue denim jeans. The shirt on the inside was black.

Kicking your foot into his shin, you shot Seonghwa a glare. Wooyoung turned, confused as hell, but once he processed it was the two of you, you swore he rolled his eyes.

“Since when did you come here?” Seonghwa asked, sharing an equally confused look with his brother.

Wooyoung sipped his drink and lifted the cup in answer. “I’m here every Wednesday night. Last semester I was here every Tuesday night.”

“And the semester before that?” you questioned, slightly teasing him. He moved his eyes over to you and you felt the earth shake beneath you. Both of you were sober, facing one another for the first time since the end of last year.

“I was here every Monday night.” His gaze hardened.

“Why?” Seonghwa twisted his brows, looking the boy up and down. Wooyoung took two steps closer to the table.

“‘Cause,” he started, lowering his chin, balancing his cup in his hand against his bottom lip.

“Chai tea,” you mumbled, and both Seonghwa and Wooyoung looked at you. The boy across from you raised an eyebrow. “And Blend has the honey your mom uses at home.” Glancing at Wooyoung, he watched you. Subtle shock lived in his face, but he wouldn’t show it.

“You remember that?” he asked quietly.

Nodding with a shrug, you said, “Yeah, you told me about it when she called you to yell at you about your psych grade last year.” Seonghwa, in awe, released your hand. Wooyoung took notice.

“Why these specific days though?” Seonghwa shook his head.

You spoke before either of them could. “It means his hardest classes are today…”

It took you a couple seconds to work up the courage to look at Wooyoung again, but you did, and you found him thinking, his brows pointed and his eyes somewhat soft. Parting his lips as if to speak, he bit down on his bottom one instead and turned to walk out the door, telling Theo, “Thanks, Tae, I sent the money.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes were on you, hot. The moment the door was closed and Wooyoung was gone, he started to laugh.

“Don’t start,” you whispered, looking up at him.

“How can I not?” He shook his hair and sat backward. “That was entirely too adorable, Ror. Remembering his order? Remembering why he came here? You’re a real lover girl, aren’t you?”

Averting your eyes to the table, you pushed your drink aside, feeling too sick to drink anymore. “I just remember,” you shrugged. “It’s important to me. Remembering. Especially things like that.” You looked at him. “If you care about somebody, you tend to remember those things.”

At the word care he scrunched his nose.

Your phone buzzed on the table, both of you glancing at the screen that lit up with Tori’s name. Beneath her message was one from Yunho. Picking it up, you opened his first.

[youknow everythin]: Oh my god, I forgot. Rory. I’m so sorry, holy shit.

You flickered your eyes up at Seonghwa momentarily.

“What happened?” he asked.

He went to see Mina tonight.

“Nothing,” you whispered, focusing back on your screen.

[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: get to the house NOW

[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: ryujin losing her shit hurry hurry i cant get her to stop yelling at yeji

[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: isla is gone, no one knows when she left, her stuff is gone

“Seonghwa, I gotta go,” you mumbled, barely giving him another look, leaving him at the table. Not a word was spoken elsewise. He let you go.

It took ten minutes to walk back to ITZ. Placing a hand over your racing heart, you barreled up the stairs and paused. Through the door, through the walls, Ryujins voice echoed into the outside. It sounded like things were being thrown, there were voices on voices and bangs on bangs.

Pushing the door open you’re greeted by a shoe falling to the floor in front of you from the second floor. Shutting the door with your back, you snapped your neck up and found the back of Yeji, standing against the railing with her arms folded over her chest. The shouting was coming from up there, Ryujin.

“YOU NEVER SAID SHIT YEJI! She’s GONE, where the FUCK did she GO!?”

Bending to pick her shoe up, finding many more littered about the floor, a hand grabbed your wrist and stood you up. Tori, eyes wide and brows high, shook her head and gestured toward the upstairs. “Don’t bother, she launches them back down. Yeji’s dodged almost every sneaker she owns, if we bring them back we’re only supplying her ammo.” She pulled you toward the stairs, out of the way of unidentified flying objects.

“What the hell is happening?” you asked, keeping your voice low. Ryujin still screamed, every profanity possible. Turning to Tori, she cringed. She had been crying, her eyes were glassy. Glancing upstairs, the other girls were either in their doorways or on the other side of the staircase, out of the way of Ryujin’s rage.

“Isla’s gone,” Tori whispered, the tears welling up in her eyes. “All of her things are gone, all of her belongings, her furniture, it’s gone. There isn’t a trace of her in that room. Ryujin came home from class and lost her shit.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you muttered. “No one’s tried to stop her?”

Tori gave you a look. “That’s her best friend, Ror. If this happened to you, and I suddenly disappeared, wouldn’t you freak the fuck out?”

Your heart sank. “Suddenly? What do you mean suddenly?”

She shrugged, a few tears falling down her cheeks. “No one knew, she didn’t tell anybody.”

“Who?” you whispered. Tori gave you another look, her brows meeting in the middle of her forehead. 

“Isla,” she sighed. “She didn’t say anything, she just… left. Quietly, too, no one knows how she did it.”

Gritting your teeth you took a breath and turned your attention to the senior on the second floor telling Yeji exactly what she thinks about her, and the president was unmoving. Still, not frozen, but still, Yeji watched her. Watched her scream, watched her sob, watched her throw whatever she could at her, and she didn’t say a word.

Now you could be sick. Now you could fall to the floor, your knees weak. Grabbing onto Tori, your best friend wrapped a hand around your back, laying her chin on top of your head, sniffling. 

Yeji knew how she did it. Yeji knew how she left. She knew when she left.

And so did you.

september 28th ~ saturday ~ 6:00 p.m.

Twenty five boys stood on the front steps of the ATZ house. Most of them wore smiles, and neatly buttoned shirts and pants, their hair styled to perfection, standing tall as you and your sisters approached the porch. Whispers moved through their group, the boys excited, and hungry. They had outdone you. ITZ was only bringing ten more girls.

Nineteen of you. There would’ve been more, but those girls you met at the party, and some others, didn’t make it past the cut. Turned down, Yeji signed five letters telling them they weren’t eligible for advancement into the sorority. You weren’t even able to protest without exposing to Yeji what you’d done, having attended the party, and met them in the kitchen when you were plastered. As much as you’d love to have those girls here with you, have them add a little more muscle to your sisterhood, this past month has been too much. You couldn’t risk anything at this point.

Tori, beside you in a little white dress, she slid her arm beneath one of yours and smiled. Her boyfriend was on the porch, standing in front with the original nine of ATZ. He’d already spotted her, the way he teetered back and forth on his feet shifting his weight while he waited patiently for her to find him entirely too adorable. They hadn’t seen one another in a few days, none of you have been here for a few days, both houses have been too busy preparing for this moment, and thankfully so.

Yunho stood next to Mingi, his shirt buttoned in totality, unlike his best friend who left the to one undone. The corners of his lips were turned up. A smile of sorts, but he seemed nervous. His eyes gave him away. The text he sent you Wednesday night, before rushing home to calm Ryujin- which you did- you never answered. He’s sent you a message everyday since, only two, you didn’t get one today, but it didn’t matter.

He forgot to meet you, or he was lying like his stupid girlfriend and he went out with her instead, comforting her and her allegedly real situation. For days she’s moped around the house, taking longer to talk on the phone, hanging around Yeji more than she’s ever had. She’s even taken Tori from you on a few occasions, and your roommate would come back in twenty minutes with some sort of update, telling you that Mina wasn’t feeling any better about the situation.

If she was telling the truth, she had every right to be upset. You understood that more than anybody. You’d go days without hearing from your dad sometimes, it was scary, even if you knew they were coming back. Some days it felt like they never were. Since he’s been back from his work trip in Contramano you’ve heard from him twice. A text when he returned, and then the shortest video call so he could see your smiling face.

Some days you wished you could tell him everything, that he’d be the kind of dad who would listen, and understand. Maybe he’d even give you some advice, tell you how to handle the shitshow you were swept inside of, but no. He’s taught you how to wear false emotion on your face and gave you the skill of juggling multiple situationships at once. Like you, your father didn’t know what love was. You like to think he gave you the best he could, that whenever he told you he loved you, that you were his everything, that he was telling the truth.

Maybe that was enough. The two of you trying your best to be the best people you could be for one another, knowing that at the end of the day it was just you and him. He didn’t want anything to happen to you, and though you longed for him to be detained maybe just one more time so he’d change his life, you didn’t want anything to happen to him either. He did try his hardest to be the best dad, and you could admit you gave him too much shit, but he couldn’t blame you for that. Your father has been through hell and back, a hell that he’s somewhat protected you from, a hell that he’s been learning from. Almost.

Old habits die hard.

Hongjoong stepped down from the porch with his head held high, extending a hand toward Yeji who stood at the front of your group. Smiling, his confidence exuding him, he took her hand and shook it, bowing his head as he did. Yeji returned his smile, matching his energy, and smiled. They exchanged a few words between themselves, the presidents moving with poise and juxtaposition. Hongjoong in a dark suit, his jacket buttoned with no shirt beneath it, and Yeji in a baby blue dress, her hair curled and her skin covered properly. Two halves of a whole, their knowing eyes reading one another with a careful tenacity. No one could deny their power, their own energy almost too much for themselves.

Up on the porch on the other side of the stairs stood Seonghwa, a being most of the girls behind you whispered about. A being that could have any girl in this group. All he’d have to do is point to one, and he’d have them crawling up the stairs. But, his eyes were on you, gentle and soft. When you met them he smiled. Trying to return it, your eyes fell to Vernon standing in front of him.

Brows low, his eyes were sharp, on alert, scanning your group from left to right, and back again. He tilted slightly side to side to get a glimpse of some of the girls hiding behind others. He was looking for something. Someone. When he met your eyes he questioned you with a raise of his brows, the action so small it’d go unnoticed by someone out of the know. Shaking your head, pulling your lips into a frown, you could feel the hurt that cracked his usual stoic expression in half.

Quickly composing himself, he glanced away, focusing on Hongjoong who turned back to his house, but then he narrowed his glare and shot it toward Yeji. Beside him, Wooyoung put a hand on his arm and whispered something to him. The boys spoke back and forth for a second while Hongjoong introduced himself to your sisters and new recruits, Wooyoung taking a peek at you every now and again while Vernon whispered to him.

Yeji introduced herself to the boys on the porch, the majority of the newbies visibly drooling over her. Some took their time with each face, marking their prey before it even stepped through their door. Soul was up there, leaning over the railing to the left of Seonghwa, his two freshman friends with him. The cocky one, Jongseob with his eyes set on Tori, and the shy one, Intak, who wore a smirk, eyes set on a girl somewhere behind you. 

Soul had his eyes on you. Smiling at him, his smirk deepend and he stood up straight, ripping his eyes from you to look at your president.

Both houses recited their mission statements for one another, whipping you into shape quickly, pulling your attention off the boys, and then, you were in the house. 

Dinner for the most part went smooth, to plan, as it should have. The boys let you and your sisters into the house first, their greetings respectful and kind, likely the doing of Hongjoong and Seonghwa. It was how they all moved through dinner as well, respectful and kind, treating the nineteen of you like important guests in their home, serving you, proving themselves. Soul had been the one to bring you a drink, something without alcohol in it.

That was for later.

This was all an act.

The recruits with you expressed their shock, their surprise that the frat house wasn’t a mess, not dirty in the slightest, and you wanted to let them in on a secret, but figured they’d see it soon enough. As soon as the clock struck ten the house flipped over.

For the majority of dinner Yunho kept to himself, hanging around Yeosang who gave you nothing more than a smile, though he hugged Tori. The first of many questionable things to happen within the hours before the party started.

Yunho didn’t say hello, he was actively trying to keep his eyes off of you. Finding something else to occupy him if the two of you got too close, usually another boy or a plate to clean up or a drink to fill.

Seonghwa checked in with you, noticing how Yunho avoided any interaction with you. In front of a group of his freshmen following him around, Soul included, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. Soul made sure to touch your shoulder, giving you a shake before they walked away.

Vernon hovered in a corner focused on his phone for most of the dinner, his nails finding themselves between his teeth as he tried to listen to people speak, the higher ups giving tours and sharing makeshift speeches with anyone who’d listen. He couldn’t even entertain the ATZ freshmen when they’d ask him about baseball, he was totally disconnected, and he hadn’t been able to get you alone to ask you what had happened, at least not yet.

Tori and Mingi hung onto one another with class, answering the freshmen’s questions of ‘Are you together?’ with smiles and happy nods. Mina found herself beside them often, Mingi now involved in the comfort Mina project.

Wooyoung hung around the outskirts of the dinner, like he would at any of his parties this semester it seemed. A complete change from how he’d act in the past, outgoing, loud, the center of attention. It didn’t click with you until you heard your friends speak about not being able to find him when they’d come here, that he’d hide. Hide, or just know how to not be seen. Even on social media he’s gone quiet, only the occasional post going up to his story, nothing big, not since that first party when he got you in trouble.

Hongjoong walked around with Jongho, the two of them seemingly becoming partners in crime this semester more so than Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The pair were almost comical, the muscle behind the beauty, like a bodyguard, stopping anybody if they got too close to his president. The sophomore did find himself with Yuna at some point, her chocolate brown curls melting his hardened exterior in seconds. Sharing a job, Yuna would often argue, since last year, that they spoke mainly about work, but the eyes never lie. There was something there.

San, well, he was San. A polite dinner party would not stop him from waltzing around the house without a care, taking after his president, wearing no shirt beneath his suit jacket that he unbuttoned as the night drew on and on. Shamelessly flirting with anybody who’d entertain him, not even knowing he was flirting, he accidentally collected a following, boys and girls alike who some would fall victim to later on.

Somehow you collected your own following. A few of the ITZ recruits found it comfortable at your side, asking you questions about the house, about the boys whenever one would pass by you and shoot you a wink. Ryujin accompanied you, lingering close by with a scowl on her face, and rightfully so. She didn’t want to come tonight, but contractually she had too. Avoiding Vernon for now, she unspokenly clung to you.

When the clock did strike ten, however, everybody changed. The entire house flipped over, and it happened fast.

Red cups littered the place within the hour of the party starting. The lights were shut off, the music had been turned up to a volume one had to shout over, and boys jackets and girls sweaters were draped over any furniture in the vicinity. Pong tables were going in the back of the living room, shouts coming from there, Mingi and Tori’s included. Both you and Ryujin didn’t know what to do, sipping your first drinks of the night, gathering some of the girl's belongings that had been strewn about, you weren’t sure whether to chaperone or drink away your sorrows.

As the first hour progressed, Ryujin decided on the latter. Flopping onto a couch amongst the brothers and sisters chattering away, dancing around the living room, she requested a full cup from an ATZ recruit and he obliged. At least you’d know where to find her, but now this meant you were on your own.

september 28th ~ saturday ~ 11:23 p.m.

“How is Yeji okay with any of this?” Vernon said, walking with you toward the living room, dodging drunk recruits wandering to the kitchen latched to one another's arms. Glancing over your shoulder at the boy and the girl laughing, you sighed.

“It’s tradition,” you suggested, giving him a shrug. “But, it’s funny though, right? She can ban us, but then allow everybody to run free tonight. It’s a tease to these new girls, they’re gonna be so disappointed.”

Taking up a spot on the vacant stairs the two of you sat side by side, Vernon sipping from his cup, his first and only of the night. You were on your second, taking your time, not wanting to be delirious for the whirlwind that already was this night.

“You know,” Vernon started, looking over into the archway of the living room. 

San was on the back of the couch, shirtless, with his tongue down an ITZ recruits throat. You believed she was a sophomore so you didn’t feel the need to run in there and put an end to the way her hands ran over his muscled chest without a care. Even if she was, you weren’t Yeji. The fun would commence, but you’d still keep a watchful eye over your sisters, old and new.

Vernon shook his head. “I don’t even remember what I was gonna say,” he turned to you, “I thought this night was gonna go one way, but it’s gone the exact opposite since you guys got here.” 

Twisting your cup around in your hands, you took a breath. “I know,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” he mumbled, knocking back what was left in his cup. “I just don’t know why she wouldn’t tell me she was leaving.”

Thinking about that night and Ryujins freak out, you circle back to the day before, when Yeji told you that Isla was withdrawing from Nasara and leaving with her brother. It was supposed to make sense, it should make sense, but for some reason, like the rest of the vague bullshit that occurred around here, it didn’t.

“She didn’t tell you anything at all?” you asked, and he shook his head, his brown curls dancing on his forehead.

“Nothing,” he nearly whispered. “I mean, I get it, she doesn’t owe me anything, we only hooked up once and she leaned on me for help, even though I genuinely wanted to help her…”

Letting him vent, you smiled once it was over. “She was still your friend, Vernon. That stuff hurts, and her not telling you that she was leaving should hurt.” He bobbed his head, letting it hang. “When did you guys… If you don’t mind me asking? I didn’t know you guys were like that.”

“Me either,” he admitted with a huff. “She, uh, showed up at my practice Monday night, and you know my coach keeps me late because of the scouting and wants to make sure I’m ready before I go up to triple A. She stayed and watched me hit, watched me work first base, bullying me the entire time- though she has no right ‘cause her brother is a pitcher and I am not, but whatever,” you both laughed, “It was really late, she helped me get my stuff together, followed me into the locker room which she’s done before, but… Something about this time she just… She got me.”

“I’m going to ask you something, please don’t take it the wrong way, okay?” you said, and he nodded. “Was she sober?”

“Completely,” he spoke fast. “Trust me, Ror. Wouldn’t have let her undress me if she wasn’t.”

“You two were really out there living every high schoolers fantasy,” you said with a giggle. “Sex in the locker rooms after baseball practice.”

He shared in your laugh for only a second. “Yeah, and now she’s gone.”

“You can always track her down,” you offered, bumping him with your elbow. “Instagram? Text? She’s with her brother, work your baseball magic and get her.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows lowering over his big brown eyes. “She’s with her brother?” A tiny spark of nerves ignited in your chest. “How do you know that, you’ve heard from her?”

“No, she hasn’t talked to any of us.”

His tone was slowly turning sharp. “Then how do you know she’s with her brother?”

“Yeji,” you whispered, unable to lie to his pretty face. “No, Vernon, wait!”

Leaping from the stairs, Vernon dropped his cup to the ground and barreled into the living room, ignoring your shouts for him to come back. Following him, jumping onto your feet, a hand landed on your shoulder before you could cross under the archway.

“Let me go,” you spat, turning around in haste. “Oh,” you sighed, and the spark of nerves turned into a flame. “What do you want?”

Yunho parted his lips as you tugged your shoulder from his grip. “Can I talk to you?”

“I don’t think so,” you said, and he scrunched up his face. “Go talk to Mina.” Spinning around to follow after Vernon, Yunho yanked you back again. “Let me go, Yo!” Facing him, he tried to put both hands on your shoulders but you swatted him away.

“Rory, can I just-”

“She said to let her go.”

Shooting a glare over your shoulder, Yunho dropped his hands to his sides and said, “You think you really have room to speak here?” Backing up from between them, you glanced at Wooyoung who glanced at you at the same time before piercing Yunho with his glare.

“A girl just told you to take your hands off of her twice, Yunho,” he said. “You think Hongjoong would be pleased to hear that?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you Wooyoung, you really think he’ll listen to you?”

Wooyoung smiled. “Regardless of what my supposed reputation says about me, what all these people will say about me, never once have I ever been involved in a situation like the one you’re presuming I’ve been.” Yunho clenched his jaw. He caught a glimpse of you, but you were locked in on the boy speaking. “Maybe I’ve done some shitty things, but I know basic respect and consent.”

“Wooyoung, it was only this once,” you muttered, and he looked at you, his eyes swallowing you whole.

“It doesn’t matter, Ro,” he said, his tone calm as he spoke to you. “This is how it starts.” Gesturing behind him with his head, telling you to move along, you listened, and heard Yunho protest as you wandered off into the living room.

“Aurora! Aurora!” San shouted at you from the couch he was on, the sophomore in his lap now, waving for you to join them. There were bodies around them, everyone talking over everyone, taking shots they’d pour with any of the multiple bottles of liquor on the table in the center of the furniture, offering you one as you stepped over their bare legs and sweaty bodies.

“How the fuck did this turn into this so fast?” you breathed, taking the cup from an ATZ recruit, flopping onto the sofa beside San who slung an arm around you. Pressing the cup to your lips you gulped down the, you think, vodka, with a cringe.

“You’re not drunk enough,” San said, grabbing the sophomore by the waist, lifting her with him as he reached for the bottle on the table. She yelped and giggled, grabbing onto him in some way to stay on his front. In the extremely dim light you could make out her pretty face and the several purple marks on her neck from San already. “Why are you not drunk enough? There’s no rules tonight, Ror. Look at what’s happening.”

“I’ve seen what’s happening, Sannie, half of our recruits are being corrupted by yours,” you smirked and he laughed, pouring straight vodka into the cup you held out for him. “You’ve taught them well.”

“I haven’t taught them a thing,” he said, giving you a look. “They came that way. It’s not our fault every single one of you is fuckable.” Twisting the cap on the bottle he tossed it to the other side of the couch and settled his hands on his girl's hips, digging his fingers into her curves. “You know, your girls aren’t totally innocent, they know what they’re doing. They want it too.”

Sipping the liquor, you licked your lips and leaned into him, your noses centimeters apart. His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes darting down to watch your tongue. “It’s not our fault every single one of you is fuckable.” With parted lips, he sighed.

“Wanna join us?” he whispered, poking his tongue out to wet his lips. Honestly weighing the possibilities, the liquor doing nothing to keep you logical, it was possible. “Holy fuck, Aurora,” he muttered. San had an unnatural ability to figure you out, to figure anyone out. It’s how he always got what he wanted, most of the time. That and his physical appearance alone.

“Find me after I finish another drink,” you whispered, and he started to smile. Reading your mind, he met you in the middle and kissed you, your tongues moving in between it all. You’ve kissed him before, once on a dare, and then again on your own. It was all purely platonic, a fact he knew as well.

Ryujin, still planted on the couch across from the other with a girl on her lap now, she watched the three of you.

“Wait, are you serious?” he asked, calling after you as you parted from him and rose from the couch.

Sipping from the cup, you shrugged and said, “Don’t know yet, just come find.” Winking at the girl on his lap smiling at you, you spun around and continued your venture through the house, almost tripping over feet and shoes thrown about, giving them their moment back. If tonight went to shit, if you ended up with nobody, which you were somewhat hoping for now that you were on drink number three, you could possibly want to end up with San. For nothing more than just pure fun.

Tonight was a night for that, for fun. Legal, allowed to be having, type of fun.

Approaching the archway into the second half of the living room, you almost froze. Yeji was coming toward you, her eyes on watch, patrolling the property. As you passed one another her smile grew, and it was anything but comforting like your president's smile should be. It was menacing, the liquor twisting it into something to be afraid of.

“There she is, Ror!”

That was Soul’s voice. Escaping from Yeji you turned to follow the freshmans call, finding him holed up in a corner with a few others, his friends included.

“Come here,” he said, waving you forward with his hand not holding a can. Wandering toward him slightly sideways, he laughed and shook his head, holding open an arm for you to tumble into. “Where’ve you been?”

“Around,” you said, sipping your drink. Soul gave a look to Jongseob to his left and smiled.

“What are you drinking, babe?” he asked, taking the cup from you easily, tipping his chin back to take a sip. “Jesus,” he groaned. “Straight?”

“No, gay,” you said, narrowing your eyes and the boys around you laughed. Soul smirked, pressing you into his chest for a few seconds. “Here’s your fuel.” Handing the cup back to you, he watched you take a bigger sip this time around. “Where are you on your way to? Seonghwa?” Two of the boys snickered, Jongseob and Intak. Turning in Souls arms you gave a look to Jongseob, but then took your time with Intak, watching him clam up beneath your interrogation. 

He wore a suit tonight like the rest of the boys, his hair styled neatly on top of his head. His white button up beneath the black jacket was slightly disheveled, a few buttons undone from the top, not like it was hours ago. Holding a drink, he sipped it and blinked feverishly, his cheeks flushing as you pushed yourself out of Souls arms and wobbled over to him.

“Intak, catch her,” Jongseob muttered, and the boy listened, holding open his arms. Latching onto him, you smiled up at his brown eyes. 

“Is this the chick you were telling us about?” An unknown voice said from behind you. One of the boys they were standing here with. Twisting in Intaks arms, pressing your back to his front, giggling at how he tensed, you found the stranger's face and audibly sighed, expressing your contentment with his appearance. Curly ginger hair shamelessly let his eyes roam about your body.

“Who are you?” you asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”

The boy looked into your eyes and smiled, his even more charming than Jongseobs. “Jiung,” he said, and the name flowed off his tongue with grace. His suit was tailored perfectly to his form, showing off exactly what you’d get beneath it.

“Damn,” you breathed, laying your head onto Intak’s chest. “Why are you all hot?”

The boys broke out in laughter, making you smile. Intak slid an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“Yeah, this is the chick you were telling me about,” Jiung said to Soul.

Looking at him, you asked, “What’s that mean?”

Soul faced you, put a hand on your cheek and pinched your skin. “Don’t worry about it.” Sharing a look with his friend that you pushed your ass against, he raised a brow. “Remember what you said about Intak?”

“I do,” you said. “How could I forget, Soul, he’s so cute.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, with a smirk, “So are you.” Soul’s smile was satisfied. Looking at Jongseob you said, “And so are you, and you.” You added a glance to Jiung as well.

“Aurora, where’s your friend?” Jongseob asked, ignoring your compliment. “The tall one, brown hair, big eyes… Boyfriend.”

Your brows shot up. “Tori?” you snickered, putting your hand over Intaks, sliding it higher on your torso. Soul and Jiung watched it move, both shocked and disappointed you stopped before it reached your chest.

“Yeah, Tori,” Seob’s eyes flashed with something dark.

“Me?” Her voice was heard before she was seen, and in a flash she was glaring around at the boys and snatching onto your wrist, pulling you off of Intak. “What’s going on here?”

“We’re just talking,” Soul said, tucking his hands behind his back. Intak shoved a hand into his pocket quickly. Tori looked him up and down and scoffed.

“You guys are disgusting,” she sneered. “Welcome to ATZ, you fit right in.” Her eyes found Jongseob last, and when he winked at her her entire body reacted, shivering as she held onto you. “I can have Mingi over here in seconds.”

“Do it,” Jongseob challenged, and Tori’s eyes shot open wide.

“Leave me alone, Seob,” she said, her tone packing a punch. “Come on,” she said to you. “How are you messed up already, who’s making you drinks?”

Watching her while the two of you walked toward the back of the living room, rather, while Tori supported your body weight as she walked toward the other room, she didn’t seem all that drunk. She could hold her drinks better than you could, that was a fact, but at this point in the night she’d be a giggling mess under Mingi’s arm.

“Are you drinking?” you asked.

“Of course I am,” she said. “I’m just not drinking fast,” she glanced down at you. “I didn’t think you wanted to get drunk tonight.” Moving around the crowd around the tables focused on the dual games going on, Mingi towering over the crowd around one end, Tori maneuvered you onto one of the leather couches pushed against a wall. A couple of other girls sat close by.

“Not drunk,” you mumbled, and Tori sat next to you with a laugh.

“Okay, then what are you?” Her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Horny now,” you said, laughing and she slapped a hand to her mouth, holding back her own laugh. “Have you seen all of these boys?”

“I have,” she said. “Jongseob has been flirting with me all night, and unfortunately he’s really good at it. I’m seconds away from telling Mingi to stand in front of me for the rest of the night.”

“Where have you been? In here?” you asked, taking a bigger gulp from your cup, almost finishing the liquor in it. Tori nodded, her eyes scanning the room.

“Me and Mina were playing over here not too long ago,” she said and your stomach sunk. “She’s still upset, I’m trying to keep it fun for her tonight.”

The light feeling your drunkenness was giving you fell flat, like you just crashed through several floors of a building. “She’s a liar.”

Groaning, Tori tipped her chin back. “Don’t start with this, Ror.”

“No,” you said, a little louder. “I think I will start with this, ‘cause it’s all… screwy, Tor.”

“How?” Your best friend pressed her lips together and put her hands in her lap.

Holding up a finger, you said, “First of all, I saw that video, her brother is at home.”

“Okay?” Tori shrugged. “Maybe he was missing that morning, and then he came back home. She can still be upset.”

“For this long, though?” you questioned, twisting on the couch to face her entirely. “Get over it already, man, it’s been a week. I once didn’t hear from my dad for a month, you think I let that hang over me once he came back? No!”

Tori tilted her head, sliding a hand over your leg. Not picking up on her attempt to comfort you, you continued.

“And, not for nothing, but it really seems like she’s milking the whole thing. Her brother had problems, we know this, don’t we all have problems?”

Tori glanced up behind you, behind the end of the couch and sat up straight. “Ror, hang on, Ror.” Grabbing onto a hand she held out to you, you shook your head. “No! She’s, like, using it for attention. Who in their right, conscience mind would use their own brother for their own personal gain? He has problems, Tor, and she’s using them to her advantage. My god, she’s already Vice President, what, does she want to take Yeji’s job? No one wants Yeji’s job. Either way, she’s lying!”

“Aurora,” Tori whispered, her eyes wide. “Stop talking.”

“Everyone wants to shut me up,” you grumbled, messily slipping out of her grip. “Can’t do anything, or anyone in this place without being burned at the stake for it.” Standing to your feet you turned to walk out of the room, but froze in place. 

Her eyes were as wide as Tori’s, but not as full of shock. Instead they were pointed, and angry.

“You think I’m lying?” Mina spoke through her teeth.

Downing the rest of the contents in your cup, you dropped it to the floor and started to smile. “I don’t think you’re lying, I know you’re lying.”

“Aurora,” she said. “You think I would do that?” Nodding without a care, you crossed your arms. “Why?” Breathless, she spared Tori a glance who stood up behind you.

“Because,” you started, then laughed when Yunho conveniently appeared behind her. “Of course,” you threw a hand toward him, “Thanks for showing up.” Looking at Mina you pointed at Yunho. “That’s why.” 

Mina looked at him, her brows screwing up on her forehead. “What!?” She whipped her head back to you, her bob swinging beneath her chin. “You think I would lie for Yunho? He has nothing to do with this.” The boy's eyes shot open, catching on.

“Not for him, Mina, to have him,” you said, speaking slowly, chopping up your words like she was a child. “You need his attention so bad that you’ll lie to keep it, ‘cause you have some sixth sense that tells you that he’s been-” “Aurora!” Tori shouted, taking your wrist, tugging you backward.

Mina grit her teeth. “You’ve been jealous since last year, Aurora.” She threw a hand behind her to touch Yunho’s chest. “He would tell me all about it.” 

You met his eyes, his worried, anxious gaze.

“The complaints, ugh,” Mina rolled her eyes, looking up at him. “Don’t deny it, Yo. Remember in the summer?” She looked at you, her glare hot. “You wouldn’t leave him alone, Ror, it was pretty desperate.” 

You felt like you’d been kicked in the gut. Yunho couldn’t say a word, he could only watch his world burn in front of him.

“I’d have left him alone if he told me he was with you,” you spat, testing your limits in Tori’s grasp, attempting to lunge forward. “Your boyfriend didn’t tell me a thing.” Mina shared a look with him.

“Aurora, don’t you dare say anything you’re gonna regret,” Tori whispered to you. Some people had their heads turned toward you and Mina’s shouting, watching the scene take place. “Don’t be stupid.”

“You know he complained about you too, Mina,” you said, cocking your head to the side. Grinning, you laughed aloud. “Is she why you always needed two rounds, Yo?” Something flashed across her face, but you couldn’t read what. Yunho, though, looked like he’d been shot. “He’s been fucking me since May, Mina,” you curled your lip. Her face went unchanged. Gasps were heard around you. Lunging in Tori’s hold again, you laughed. “He kisses you but he’s inside of me.”

Tori attempted to walk away with you, but your feet dug into the floor. This was entirely too much fun, better than joining San and his latest conquest into his bedroom. She spoke to someone behind you, but your ears were ringing, you could hear your blood pumping.

“Just wait till you get him like that,” you said. “If you ever get over yourself and let a boy touch you.” Stumbling over your feet you headed toward the archway with Tori. “Ask him to get on top, you’ll love the face he makes!”

september 28th ~ saturday ~ 1:10 a.m.

[hbic]: She confessed. Straight up. Word for word.

[seonghwa]: What the fuck, now what? If she outed herself, no sense in us doing it all over again.

[hbic]: Yeji is expecting it from us. I’ll tell her what happened. Will let you know what we’re doing.

september 28th ~ saturday ~ 1:13 a.m.

“Stay here.” Tori’s tone was stern, her hands firm on your shoulders as she propped you in the corner of the empty kitchen. Everybody danced about the living room, or the hallway, even the upstairs. There wasn’t much for them here except for a quiet space. “You’re insane, Ror, insane.” She hurried from the corner, your voice stopping her for a few seconds.

“Where are you going?” you asked, peeking at her from around the fridge. Her hair flipped over her shoulder, her eyes ablaze.

“To clean up your mess.”

Laughing as she walked away toward Mingi waiting in the doorway glaring at you, you attempted to run through what had just happened, what you threw in Mina’s face, what you had done to you and Yunho’s relationship, and you couldn’t comprehend it. You couldn’t figure out why you did it, why you said what you said, but it felt really good to say it to her face. To finally be rid of a secret that was becoming too heavy to carry. Last you heard, he was with her anyway. He could comfort her if she was upset, if she was hurt. Though, she didn’t show much of that.

She didn’t show much of anything.

Sliding down to the tiled floor, your smile dropped, and you took in the quiet. A sound so loud, even with the bumping of the music across the house. Alone with the room spinning, you took a shaky breath and felt the familiar lump in your throat.

“Why am I gonna cry?” you mumbled to yourself, attempting to blink away the tears welling up in your eyes.

Don’t cry, you thought. She deserved it.

You suppose Yunho deserved it, too. This whole time, bouncing back and forth between the two of you, even if he made the whole thing out to be him not so interested in Mina, and very much interested in you. Your closest friend of almost three years now, playing you like a fool. Confused, because it didn’t seem like he wanted to be playing you, you’re reminded of what you thought of when Mina was telling you about how good Yunho was that first week back.

Yes, him.

Yes, Yunho.

You should’ve taken your own advice.

Tears fell steadily now, staining your cheeks, falling onto the sundress you wore. You could’ve stopped it, you had all the power in the world to put an end to you and Yunho, but something kept you going, and you’re not sure if it was him or if it was your own fucked up perception of love. He spoke empty words, and you took it like he was giving you the stars from the sky. Depth didn’t exist. He didn’t remember. He never remembered.

You took his crumbs and were content with starving. For what?

“Ro?”

Lifting your head, going dizzy, you tried to wipe your cheeks but it was no use, the tears were replaced in seconds. Blinking, you found Wooyoung making his way through the kitchen, a certain hurriedness in his walk.

“You’re gonna make this worse,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.

He paused in front of you, squatting down. “Ro, I don’t want to make it worse, I want to help.” His voice mimicked the way he was just walking, quick and rushed, all while trying to stay calm.

“Why do you want to help me?” Opening your eyes, he wore that face he’d give you months ago.

“Because you’re really drunk,” he said carefully. Reaching out a hand, two of his fingers touched the hem of your dress and tugged it over your legs where your knees were pulled into your chest. “You don’t have to like me, you can hate me all you want right now, but please, just trust me. Let’s go outside.”

Sliding your legs out straight, your feet touched his ankles. Sighing, you shook your head and let out a cry. “It’s because of you.” Wooyoung raised a brow. “You did this.”

He held back his smile. “I got you trashed and on the floor of the kitchen?”

Holding back your own smile, you sniffled and whined. “It started with you, all of this, you’re why it’s a mess, you’re why this is happening. I was trying to get over you, and I made a mess.”

Glancing away for a second, Wooyoung held out a hand and released a breath. “Okay, let me make it up to you then, please. Come outside with me.”

“Why?” Giving him a look, he returned it.

“Because,” he said, looking toward the entrance of the kitchen. “There’s people who aren’t nice in this house.”

“And you are nice?”

Wooyoung sighed, shaking his outstretched hand he wanted you to take. “I’m trying to be nice.”

Scoffing, you shook your head. “Nice for what?”

He took a breath and looked you dead in the eyes. “Because you may have gotten over me, but I am not over you.”

He may as well have sucker punched you in the chest. You couldn’t feel your body. You were drunk, but you were not expecting those words to come out of him.

“I don’t believe you,” you whispered, and he cringed.

“I don’t expect you too, not after what you’ve been through,” he muttered, shaking his hand for the last time. “Not after what they’ve put you through.”

What?

“I told you, Ro,” he said, his voice tiny. “These people will snuff out anything standing in their way of what they want. They will get what they want, that’s why we need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Finally taking his hand, he sighed in relief and helped you to your feet, but it was too late.

“Oh, good,” Yeji said, turning into the kitchen with Mina and the rest of the board, from both houses, behind her. Even Tori. Even Yunho, and Mingi. “You’ve got her, good work, Wooyoung.”

He shook his head and moved in front of you. “No, I didn’t get her, I didn’t find her. We’re leaving.” 

Hongjoong, with his hands folded in front of him, laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Aurora,” Yeji took the attention back. Peeking at her from over Wooyoung's shoulder, you stepped to his side and tightened your grip on his hand. Tori’s tear filled eyes glanced at them, then let out a quiet cry. “Something has been brought to my attention.”

Taking in the other girls, Yuna was in shock, her hands planted to her chest. Chaeryeong and Mina though, they were smiling. Tori clamped a hand over her mouth and looked at Mingi for help. Her boyfriend could only shake his head. In disappointment? In disapproval? You weren’t sure.

“What has?” you asked, hoping to play dumb, but these girls were smarter than that. Yeji was smarter than that.

Towering in the archway, Seonghwa hung his head low, piercing you with his gaze. Jongho stood behind Hongjoong as usual, wearing some form of shock like Yuna. Then Yunho, jaw tight, eyes glassy, he couldn’t look at you.

“Not only have you broken a brand new rule that’s been set into place, you’ve also broken the trust of several members of both houses,” she took a few steps into the kitchen. “Not only that, but it’s been going on for a while. Since we’ve been back, is that right Mina?” She glanced over her shoulder and the sleek brown bob gave her a nod.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, throat tightening. Grabbing onto Wooyoung's arms with your other hand, you pressed your fingers into his skin. A few recruits wandered up behind the board members, curious. “I promise, I didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t matter, unfortunately,” Yeji said, a ghost of a smile haunting her lips. “There are consequences.” She shifted her eyes over to Wooyoung and batted her lashes. “Wooyoung, you’re not needed any longer, you can leave.”

Your heart burst into pieces. Tears thickened, you let go of him, but he didn’t let go of you. Looking at you, Wooyoung gulped, then shook his head.

“No,” he said, and Yeji’s demeanor faltered.

“Wooyoung,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. He shot her a look and fully laced his fingers with yours.

Shaking his head again, he said, “No.” Taking a few steps forward with you, he said, “Let us through. We’re leaving.” Jongho stepped around Hongjoong, coming closer to the two of you. Wooyoung looked up at him and snickered. “Come on, man, let us through. I don’t feel like making a mess of anyone's kitchen tonight.”

“Wooyoung,” Yeji snapped. “Let her go, and leave the room.”

He half listened to her. Taking his hands off of you, he clenched his jaw and walked up to her. Entirely vulnerable before all of them, you wrapped your arms around yourself and dug your nails into your skin.

“Good job,” Yeji smiled at him. She lifted a hand to touch the bottom of his chin. “Your work here is done.”

Smacking her hand away before it could touch him, Chaeryeong gasped and Mina narrowed her eyes as Wooyoung opened his mouth. “It is, Yeji. My work here is done. I’m done playing your game. I’m done being a puppet.”

“Wooyoung,” Yeji whispered, her fists clenching at her sides. “Watch it, you know what’s going to happen.”

Looking back at you, Wooyoung shrugged. “I think it’s pretty worth it.”

“You don’t even know if she’ll want you,” Yeji said, her voice never breaking. “You’ll lose all of this,” she gestured to everyone behind her. “You could make it out of this with nothing, or, you could walk out of here with us on your side. You take your pick.”

He smiled at her. Looking at his brothers, he nodded. Hongjoong stared him down, his eyes flickering to Yeji for a few seconds. When Wooyoung turned to come back to your side, you let him take your hand. He was wearing that face again. That I care about you face.

“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong almost shouted.

“You have several other pawns to play with,” Wooyoung snapped at him. Then he looked at you. He made sure you were looking at him when he nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you couldn’t feel your knees. “I want you to believe me, but I understand if you don’t, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Last semester,” he started, and the nausea must’ve been apparent on your face because he slid a hand over your cheek as tears fell. “What you thought happened? What you think we did? Me and Yeji?” You took a shaky breath and he brushed away tears beneath your lashes. “It didn’t happen. It never happened.”

The boys in the archway whispered to one another, turning into a circle while Yeji, Chaeryeong and Mina watched them, waiting for something.

“What?” you gasped, eyes shooting open wide.

Wooyoung nodded. “It wasn’t real. It was made up, it was a lie. I never slept with her, she made it seem like we did.” Making sure you kept your eyes on him, he squeezed your hand. “Aurora, I was hurting. You were clearly in love with him, and I was watching it happen. I wanted to give you… everything. I’ve never felt like this about somebody, ever, and I barely even had you.”

There weren’t any words you could piece together to give him any sort of answer. Beside yourself, you could only coach yourself to take deep breaths.

“I fell into their game, and it was easy to do, you know what everybody thinks of me,” he said, and that hurt your heart more than it should. “I don’t understand how I’m sluttier than San, but that’s besides the point.”

“What’s the point?” you whispered.

Wooyoung took a breath. “You were supposed to be the president, Ro.” Your legs almost gave out. Moving his arms to your waist, he held onto you. “She paid them off. They wanted you. The others wanted you. When the houses came together to decide who’d move up, who’d get the spot, your name was on the list.” He gestured his head toward the archway. “They still have the fucking papers, I’ve seen them.”

“Tori,” you whispered, and Wooyoung listened. “Tori knew? Yuna?” You both lifted your heads to look their way. Chaeryeong, Mina and Yeji joined the group of boys. Tori and Yuna were against the wall, holding onto each other. They didn’t know. Your best friend pleaded with you with her eyes to believe her. Mingi moved from the group, his own eyes wide, joining his girlfriend who pushed him away.

“Ro, they wanted to get you out,” Wooyoung whispered. “I’ve been watching all of this happen since last semester. I know that makes me not a great person right now, I could’ve told you, but there was a lot at stake. A lot that I’m not afraid to risk right now, because this is ridiculous.”

“What is it? What’s going to happen?”

“He’s done, Aurora,” Hongjoong said, loud enough to cut into the bubble you and Wooyoung were creating around yourselves. “He’s out. No more ATZ for Wooyoung.”

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

~~

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son. 

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly. 

She made his miserable heart full. 

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life. 

He never believed he was worthy of her love. 

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

~~

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading. 

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it. 

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn. 

“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground. 

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun. 

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly. 

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded. 

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight. 

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well. 

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne. 

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.” 

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.” 

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time. 

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else. 

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously. 

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend. 

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics. 

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything. 

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line. 

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her. 

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding. 

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room. 

She looked at him first. 

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

~~

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings. 

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast. 

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.” 

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave. 

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal. 

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found. 

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully. 

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing. 

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?” 

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them. 

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree. 

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them. 

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice. 

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation. 

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself. 

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him. 

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her. 

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words. 

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago. 

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting. 

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him. 

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him. 

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before. 

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature. 

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile. 

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced. 

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave. 

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease. 

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal. 

~~

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering. 

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed. 

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through. 

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.” 

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause. 

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer. 

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain. 

They couldn’t say no to her. 

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer. 

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow. 

~~

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing. 

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm. 

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat. 

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair. 

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated. 

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table. 

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached. 

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily. 

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held. 

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly. 

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her. 

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against. 

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously. 

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.” 

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet. 

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her. 

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before. 

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had. 

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears. 

He had never felt so important. 

~~

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history. 

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.  

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior. 

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day. 

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife. 

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door. 

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl. 

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her. 

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him. 

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.” 

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands. 

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving. 

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window. 

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious. 

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name. 

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower. 

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair. 

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.” 

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries. 

~~

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 

She recognized the boy immediately. 

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze. 

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her. 

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew. 

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.” 

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her. 

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood. 

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves. 

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze. 

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair. 

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless. 

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon. 

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense. 

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed. 

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence. 

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history. 

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her. 

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her. 

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.” 

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

~~

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around. 

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil. 

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra. 

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised. 

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her. 

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself. 

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again. 

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes. 

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile. 

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard. 

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard. 

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes. 

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him. 

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!” 

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her. 

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book. 

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend. 

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly. 

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond. 

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him. 

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him. 

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him. 

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him. 

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant. 

She chose him. 

No one had ever chosen him.

~~

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure. 

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave. 

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.” 

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free. 

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him. 

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.” 

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him. 

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival. 

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother. 

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached. 

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed. 

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words. 

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.” 

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.” 

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her. 

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying. 

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could. 

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.” 

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her. 

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before. 

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could. 

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks. 

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar. 

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers. 

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile. 

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair. 

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities. 

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear. 

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks. 

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred. 

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming. 

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted. 

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him. 

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye. 

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.” 

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks. 

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life. 

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!” 

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste. 

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost. 

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything. 

~~

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet. 

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered. 

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side. 

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.” 

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away. 

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave. 

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat. 

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt. 

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful. 

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now. 

~~

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong. 

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised. 

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort. 

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold. 

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left. 

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived. 

It suddenly struck her. 

They were marigolds. 

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them. 

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile. 

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes. 

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow. 

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.” 

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior. 

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together. 

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him. 

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation. 

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers. 

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry. 

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain. 

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world. 

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time. 

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.” 

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him. 

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him. 

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day. 

Aemond sighed and bowed his head. 

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears. 

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.” 

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath. 

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child. 

But none of it mattered. 

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.” 

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter. 

His first laugh since the incident. 

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side. 

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish. 

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying. 

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her. 

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate. 

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily. 

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl. 

But they all had a duty to perform.

~~

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed. 

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins. 

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm. 

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.” 

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly. 

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time. 

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her. 

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers. 

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them. 

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her. 

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands. 

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on. 

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer. 

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place. 

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her. 

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life. 

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her. 

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker. 

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her. 

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe. 

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep. 

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays. 

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers. 

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew. 

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him. 

~~

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

[coolemmasulivan2]

Back on Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.

Word count: 2061

Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah

You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.

It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.

"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.

You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."

"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."

You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"

He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.

Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.

Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"

Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"

"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.

Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."

Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."

Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"

"Thanks for the information."

It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.

He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.

You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.

"What?"

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."

Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."

"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."

"How is that good?"

"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."

"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"

“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."

"So go!" Max said firmly.

Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."

Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"

Lando hesitated. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.

You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"

"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.

"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.

"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."

"I am. I was just waiting for you."

You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.

"That’s not true."

"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."

Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."

Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."

"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."

Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.

"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.

"Just tired." Lando muttered.

Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."

Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"

Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.

Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.

Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."

"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."

There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."

"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.

A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."

Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.

You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.

When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.

The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."

You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."

You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."

"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."

"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."

After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."

Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."

You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."

He smiled. "Together."

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"

Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered.

[no-144444]

Mark my words.- o.piastri

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

summary: mark slips up about your marriage.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! rb!mechanic! wife! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He crossed the finish line, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Sure, Checo had crashed in the last lap and Max had gotten p6. Not a good result, but then again, that’s what you had told Christian would happen if he didn’t let you build the car. 

You were Adrian’s protege. You were the next Newey. Christian was just too focused on the past. 

“Fuck!” he groaned, slamming his headset on the desk. 

“I told you so,” you sighed, leaving him at the desk and running to the parc fermé. Oscar would be coming through in mere minutes, and you wanted to be there to see him. Secretly dating another team’s driver wasn’t easy, but you two made it work. You were both lowkey about things, even though you’d been married for about a year now. You stood beside Nicole, far away from your own team, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to see the light in his eyes when he came up to his mum and you. 

Nicole wrapped her arms around you, cheering as you both relived the moment that Oscar had won. Oscar Piastri, 2 time Gran Prix winner. He’d proven himself time and time again, he wasn’t a second driver, and McLaren now had a difficult choice to make. 

But all that was for another day. Today was about Oscar. 

He ran over to the team, finally spotting his mum and you beside her. You could see from his eyes that he was smiling. She pulled him into a tight hug. 

“You did it!” she cheered, holding him close. “I’m so proud of you.”

He pulled off his helmet, smiling at her. “Thanks mum, love you loads,” he smiled, then turned his attention to you. “Not bad, eh?”

You smirked. “Not bad Piastri.”

“Not bad for you either, Piastri,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 

“Go get weighed idiot, I’ll catch you in the airport, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t miss you for the world,” he winked, then walked off to continue the celebrations. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You woke up the next morning, sore, with Oscar beside you. You groaned as you turned over, shutting off his alarm. “Osc,” you yawned. 

“Shush,” he whispered. “Five more minutes.”

“Oscar, we need to get up,” you reminded him, but he just tightened his grip on your waist. “Come on Osc, I need a shower.”

He smirked and you rolled your eyes, not missing his innuendo. “I could-”

“We did enough of that last night, give me time to recover,” you laughed. “Worth a shot,” he smiled. “Alright, I’ll start on some breakfast.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet greeting (also short because his breath stinks in the morning) and you went your separate ways. This weekend was Singapore, and you knew how tough it was on every driver, engineer, and mechanic. Singapore was always the race you dreaded. It was unpredictable and hot. Way too hot. 

You came out of the shower to see Oscar pacing the kitchen, on the phone with a very stressed Mark. “No I understand that, but I thought they wouldn’t hear us… I-I didn’t mean to-“

“Oscar, it’s too late mate. You’d better just come out with it, or get your mum to, or something. People are getting really confused and they think Y/n is your sister or something,” Mark sighed

You burst out laughing, making Oscar laugh. 

“They think we’re siblings?” you laughed. “What the fuck?”

“You did call her ‘Piastri’ to be fair mate,” Mark chuckled.

“Well that is her second name!” he defended.

“Osc, just post our wedding photos or something,” you shrugged. “Or we could just let people speculate.”

“Sorry baby, but I don’t really love the idea of people thinking you’re one of my sisters,” he mocked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. 

You shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast he'd made you. “I don’t care, I’m just an insignificant engineer from RedBull.”

He rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re so helpful,” he responded sarcastically.

“Using sarcasm as a defence mechanism because you don’t want to admit you’re the breadwinner of the family? How humble and noble of you,” you laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek and squeezing his ass, making him jump. 

“I hate it when you do that,” he scoffed, batting your hand away. You knew he loved it. 

“Anyways, what’s our action plan lads?” Mark asked. 

“Up to you,” you shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“Will I post on twitter and act like it’s been common knowledge?” He suggested.

“Mate, no one would believe that. You’re known for keeping things secret and being nonchalant, just do that,” Mark laughed. 

“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. “Thanks Mark.”

“See you in Singapore,” he sighed and you grained as Oscar hung up the phone. 

“Fucking Singapore,” you groaned. 

“I know,” he nodded in agreement. “Hopefully this year I won’t be as ill.”

“Let’s fucking hope so,” you smoothed down his hair. “You need to start brushing your hair baby. It’s so awful in the mornings.”

His lips became a line and he nodded. “Humbling me isn’t always necessary,” he breathed out and wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your ass as he pressed kisses on your face and neck. “But it is appreciated,” he finished sarcastically, as you pushed him off giggling. 

“You’d appreciate it more if you took the advice,” you muttered, taking a bite of your toast. 

He shook his head, chuckling. “How’d I get so lucky?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You shrugged. “By using the dark arts?” you teased and he just laughed. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You walked into the Singapore paddock with Lando, deep in conversation about his upcoming birthday party. You usually weren’t photographed all that often in the paddock, and when you were, it’s usually because you were beside a driver or someone more important, mostly because you were known to ruin photos. Holding up your middle finger, threatening to flash the camera, etc, it’s what has made you a Gen Z favourite. You also refused to go up on the podium, no matter how many times Max asked. You were pretty low-key about everything, it worked well. 

“So I was definitely thinking a DJ, but what about the dress code? Should it be casual? Business casual? Black tie?” he questioned. 

You rolled your eyes. “Club attire Lando, it’s being held at a club, let people dress like they’re going to a club.”

He nodded, as if he’d never thought of that. “You’re a genius!”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you sighed as he walked off to the McLaren motorhome. 

You walked off to the RedBull motorhome, noticing more cameras on you than normal. Most people just left you alone, it wasn’t often that the camera followed you (mostly because of your aforementioned behaviour), but tonight they wouldn’t let up. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Even as you sat in the pitlane, chatting to Daniel, you were still being recorded. 

“Do you know what this whole thing is about?” you asked Daniel and he looked at you like you were crazy. 

“Have you not seen what Mark posted?” he asked, his eyes wide. 

“What the fuck did he post?” you asked, rushing to get your phone out. 

And there it was. Mark had announced it for you. 

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aussiegrit

tagged: oscarpiastri , reallyy/n

Liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen and 872,928 others

aussiegrit: These two crazy kids were too busy being in love (and winning races) to tell you guys that they’re married! Love you two xxx

comments

alexalbon: oh oscar’s going to go mad.

landonorris: marks time of death: now.

oscarpiastri: I WANTED TO POST FIRST

oscarpiastri: THIS SHIT IS UNFAIR. FUCK YOU MARK -> reallyy/n: someone will be sent to the stewards if you don't stop with the language...

pierregasly: it still freaks me out that they're MARRIED and 22 and 23. like wtf. -> kikagomez: 👀 -> pierregasly: ... -> user82: SHE CLOCKED YOU I FEAR

user93: I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS (no i'm not.)

user22: THIS IS SO ADORABLE WTF

sebvettel: good memories! officiating was such a blast! -> user883: SEB OFFICIATED? -> user21: it makes sense, y/n has been super close with the schumachers and seb since she was a kid because of her dads job as a mechanic in f1. he worked for ferrari from the 1980s to around 2015. -> user02: LORE DROP?????

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“That dickhead!” you cursed. “I’m going to go find Osc, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded and sent you on your way. You had to tell Oscar, he definitely didn’t know yet, right? He was going to lose it at Mark, he wanted to be the one to post, he wan-

And you walked into someone. Someone wearing papaya. Oscar wearing papaya. Oscar. 

“Did you see?!” “Did you see?!”

You both chuckled, then remembered the situation. 

“I’ll kill him for you if you want?” you offered and he just smiled. 

“It had to come out somehow,” he shrugged. “Though, those aren’t the pictures I’d pick.” 

“We all know what pictures you’d pick,” Lando interjected, winking at you. Oscar elbowed him. “I meant your wedding pictures!” “Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Anyway, we can call him later and kill him together. Sounds good?” 

He nodded, wrapping a hand around your waist, the other landing on your ass. “Sounds great.” 

He quickly pressed his lips to yours, feeling all of the cameras on him, but still not caring. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you smiled before walking away, back to your conversation with Daniel. 

Mark was going to get murdered, that was just a fact. Mark your words.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[lazyjellyfishcreation]

batman AU where everything is the same, exept that the Al Ghuls are the official royal family of the soverain city state of Nanda Parbat.

Like, its a very small country, but a powerful one and absolutely fuckall is known about their royal family, or the nation itself bc it's impossible to send spies inside without never hearing from them again. Nobody, exept for immidiate family even realizes that Damian is an actual crown prince of an actual country.

Like, just, him, on twitter. and then someone makes a joke about him and the way he is so overly formal in public. And Damian is like, 'yeah, I'm representing my whole country here, I'm the crown prince of my nation', and the person on twitter is like...

'Wat?'

And then Dick comes in the comments like. 'Look up the royal liniage of Nanda Parbat before you embarras yourself, I am begging you.' que a small twitter freakout bc holy shit, the youngest Wayne kid is actual fucking royalty, also, apparently Brucie Wayne fucked a princess, what's up with that?

the consequences this would have. Imagine this. They're at a gala, and IDK Black Mask shows up to rob/kidnap/kill them. The hired security never stood a chance. Bruce is there and is already making plans to slip out, and appear as batman.

interestingly enough, Damian is not making similar plans.

Damian just waits.

No more then two seconds later, at least 12 shadows crash trough the roof and absolutely massacre everyone there. No mercy, just murder, before making a protective ring around Damian, who is still completely cool and composed.

The cops try and make a stink about the 2 dozen dead henchmen and the dead Black Mask, but Crown Prince Damian just calmly walks over and tells commissioner Gordon that these were his body guards, and are therefore allowed to do these things if they judge it to be in favor of the crown prince's safety.

Nobody can really argue with that.

Two days later, at school, there are some upperclassmen who are being bitches, and are like. 'Where are your bodyguards now?'

'Just because you can't see them, doesn't mean they're not here.'

And a red dot appears on the boys forehead.

I just think it would be really funny if Damian Al Ghul was a genuine prince, in an official, international way. PS.

Even better if the Al Ghul's adopt Jason along the way, and Jason just, straight up also becomes a prince. He's not blood related tho, so he's still in line behind Damian, even though he is the oldest.

That would be insanity. After the Black mask fiasco, Jason just orders the shadows around like. 'okay, after we're done here, escort the crown prince to the secure location.' or whatever.

Someone films it. It goes viral.

People are like; 'what the fuck, why can you order them around like that.'

And Jason is like; 'I am the second prince, therefore, by tradition, the General. The Nanda Parbat fighting forces are under my command.'

and all of twitter is like; ????????

Do you see my vision here???

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 2k+

Summary: 

"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die"  

Alternatively, 

You would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timeline.

Warnings: implied smut, explicit smut, emotional sex, very sad (don't underestimate the angst huhu), depressed yoongi, reader is pining so hard lord!, creampie, unplanned pregnancy, NSFW!!

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon

A/N: Lemme know if you want a part 2? (even though I already know the answer hehe).

Arrangement.

You would rather call it an arrangement - the thing that is going on between you and Yoongi. Anything you have been feeling for him, outside your usual practice, is your, solely your decision or more likely… fault. 

Hence, it’s a given. A given that you shouldn’t feel your heart dropping to your stomach, crashing on whatever is available inside your body and shattering into a thousand pieces, when you find Gyuri walking inside the room. 

Beside you, Yoongi tenses. His body goes rigid as the air inside the room thickens beyond repair. And all of a sudden you can’t breathe. 

Now you understand why Namjoon has been avoiding to reveal the name of the artist all along.

Lee Gyuri - One of the most successful solo artist as well as Min Yoongi’s one true love, who had left him broken so bad that you once found him on the street, unconscious, vomit all over his clothes - is now back in his life… in your life, which has been revolving around him. 

Where she left - You started. 

You picked Yoongi up, put him into pieces, not that you were able to heal the cracks but you at least conjoined it all together. 

And just like that - one night after a long heart to heart talk and a few beers, you found him seethed deep inside you. Yoongi chanted your name again and again as if it’s a mantra that will heal the cracks of his heart all while he rutted in you like a mad man. 

It started from there - the arrangement. 

At the end of long days and even longer nights, whenever both of you were too exhausted to go home, you spent the nights crammed together on Yoongi’s studio couch. 

Quiet whispers, curse words, wandering hands, secret body parts slick with arousal - everything had made your existence dwindle dangerously through his fingers. 

Yoongi always fell asleep right after but you stayed awake, tracing the slope of his nose, bow of his lips, map of his pale skin glinting in the dark. 

You had made a mistake. 

You fell in love.

Now as Gyuri slides inside the room with natural elegance, you hear Yoongi’s breathing getting quicker in pace. 

He is anxious. 

You place a hand on his knees, under the table. It’s a practiced habit that you adopted over time. Your fingertips help to calm him down. 

Everything is the same. 

Except this time, Yoongi doesn’t relax under your touch. 

“Yoongi, can we talk for a moment?” Gyuri requests with a timid voice at the end of the meeting. Her eyes quickly lock with yours for a fraction of a second. 

You half expect for Yoongi to say no. You pray to the universe for his answer to come as negative even when you know –

“Yes. Sure.” 

That Yoongi never stopped loving her for a moment. Yoongi loved, loves and will love only one woman - and that’s not you. 

Even though you don’t feel your legs anymore, you stand up. You choose to take the stairs to exhaust your body so that your sadness can be masked. 

But even as you climb down floors after floors - your heart stays confined in that room locked with two lovers. 

“She said she wants to work it out this time. She has been missing me terribly... she said.” Yoongi doesn’t look away from the blaring computer screen. 

He probably doesn’t have the heart of looking into your eyes. 

Somewhere he, too, knows of the deepest secrets you have been hiding from him. 

“And? What did you say?” You chew on the inside of your mouth, again praying for him to answer something of your liking. 

“That I will think about it.” you knew he would say that. 

“What is there to think about, Yoongi? You still love her.” you force the words out of your mouth even when your throat closes up. 

Tears threaten to spill from the corner of your eyes but you blink those away.

Yoongi finally looks at you, his own eyes glinting with moisture. 

“But what about you?” The question is rhetorical - metaphorical. 

“Me? I will go back to where I started from.” you lie, heart threatening to leap out of your chest. 

You would go back, but not where you started from, you would go back to the night when you picked Yoongi up from the street.

In simpler terms, you would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timelines. 

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, pretending not to hear anything at all. 

Even though you have to summon all of your willpower to do so - you stay still in your bed. 

Your tears though - keep falling, rolling down the apple of your cheeks and making a small puddle inside the curve of your ear. 

He keeps rambling on the door. 

Sometimes the knocks are steady, sometimes infused with anger but his voice stays low. You wouldn’t hear him calling your name if you weren’t attentive enough.

“Y/N! Please open the door.” Yoongi requests again. Through the wood of your door it sounds like a whisper, “Please. I- I want to see you once.” 

Every pore of your body woozes out the desire of letting him in, taking him inside your arms and never ever letting him go. 

But you are afraid. 

He has never once visited you by his own will. 

He only tagged along when you asked him to. 

So you are afraid. 

Afraid of what he might say. Afraid that he might say what you don’t want to hear. You already know everything - know enough - if he points it out now that he is going to leave you behind as the love of his life is back then you might as well break down, which you definitely don’t want to do. 

You have always appeared to be nonchalant before Yoongi about this arrangement, about his kisses, his marks, his simple ignorance - and you want it to stay that way. 

However, your resolve breaks when you hear a sob, muffled by the door. 

Is he crying? Why? Why is he crying at your door? 

So you get up, pad towards the door and swing it open. 

Yoongi’s head shoots up and you look at his face. 

He is a mess - a mess that you love. 

With dark hair all disheveled, face smeared with tears, lips chapped, Yoongi says, “I am here to end things.” 

This. You were afraid of this. 

Your insides churn and mold into a ball of nothingness. There are words sitting on the tip of your tongue but you choose to stay silent as always.

“Okay.” you reply, holding the door knob again ready to shut it on his beautiful face for once and for all. 

Yoongi forces his hand at the edge of the door, preventing you from closing it. 

He steps inside your apartment and within a few moments, you are being pushed to the door, closing it with the force of your back. 

Yoongi kisses you with everything he has left inside. You kiss him back. 

You don’t know what is happening but if this is for one last time, then you will accept it. 

Your hands wrap around his neck on their own accord. His chapped lips mold perfectly with your moisturized pair. 

They move in perfect sync, perfect rhythm - the rhythm of destruction. 

“Y/N” Yoongi whispers in between the kiss, “I am sorry.” 

You don’t pay his words any mind, rather you let your fingers get lost in his long dark hair. 

The kiss grows hungrier by every second you spend in each other’s hold. 

Yoongi starts directing you towards your bedroom and your small apartment space takes no time to be crossed. 

You soon feel the edge of your bed behind your knees. 

When you fall back - Yoongi falls with you. 

He looks into your eyes, his own eyes telling a thousand different stories all together. But tonight, you don’t try to read those. 

What’s the point when your own chapter is ending? When memories of you will be left to collect dust on the surface? 

What’s the point when he knows he is going back to the one he has always loved? 

His rough calloused hand comes in contact with your cheek. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers again as he reaches down to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry.” he kisses your right eye.

“I’m sorry.” he kisses your left eye.

“I’m sorry.” this time it’s the tip of your nose. 

“I’m sorry” and lastly it’s your lips. 

You have never seen Min Yoongi this emotional. 

After Gyuri left him, he became numb. You were never able to thaw the frozen parts of him. 

But tonight you see a completely different Yoongi. Is this Gyuri’s magic? Has her return made him a human again? 

Yoongi - who never touched you or kissed you more than it’s needed, is now apologizing while kissing every small part of your face? 

You take a sharp breath and reply, “it’s okay.” even though you don’t know what he is apologizing for. For not being able to reciprocate your feelings? For using you when you let him? For leaving you behind after tonight? 

He has already started placing kisses around your jaw, throat, collarbones. His hands fist the hem of your pajama top and he pulls it up revealing your naked chest. 

He doesn’t waste time diving down and taking one of your perked nipples inside his mouth. 

He sucks on it softly, sweetly - like a lover. Your tears start spilling from your eyes finally. But you completely lose it when you feel his own tears on the mound of your breast. You let him sob, as you sob quietly. 

It doesn’t take much time for your clothes and his clothes to join as a hip on the floor of your bedroom. 

Yoongi pumps himself, preparing for one last time to enter you. When he lines his cock on your entrance, he takes a quick glance at your face, as if asking for permission. 

Your tear stained face lights up in a small smile - it’s not fake. 

He enters you, takes up every corner of your walls, fills you with himself - both of your body and heart. 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything anymore. He pushes himself inside you, pounds into you with an unusual pace. 

His face comes to rest on the crook of your neck. You embrace him to stay there, stay with you as long as it lasts. 

For the first time ever, Yoongi doesn’t fucks you - he makes love to you. 

The realization makes you shudder. 

Why now? Why now out of all the time? Why now when everything is ending? 

His breath starts getting labored, you feel yourself hanging close to the edge as well. 

And after a few more thrusts, you let go. He fills you up following your invitation. 

Both of you stay like that even after the deed is done - for a moment, an hour? You don’t know.  

You feel his disposal running down your inner thigh, when he finally slips out of you. 

You sneak a glance in his dark orbs for one last time. With a sore throat and an equally sore heart you whisper, “Be happy, Yoongi.” 

You see one last drop of tear slipping down his eyes when he dips down to cage your lips in his for one last time. 

It’s been a month since that night. 

It’s been a month since you last talked to Yoongi beside work. 

It’s been a month since you last saw Yoongi outside work. 

It’s been a month since you withdrew from Gyuri’s project.

It’s been more than a month since you had your last period. 

As you stand in your bathroom, with the tiny testing kit, those two red lines mock you. 

You thought that night was the last time? But this after effect - where will you go with this? Who will you confide in? 

It can’t be Min Yoongi - can it? 

You have let him slide through your fingers after all. 

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@ktownshizzle @ilys00ga

[127rkives]

uhhhh idk if anyone has discussed this before but... miguel likes to eat pussy from the back!!!

like idk, every once in a while, his brain goes brrrr and something short circuits. idk chalk it up to stress but it's more like some feral, animalistic urge. he can’t really explain it. it’s almost as if someone flips a switch, his mind goes blank except for the thought of needing to be with you, under you, in you. he has to stop whatever he’s doing and go find you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

and as soon as he makes it home to find you relaxed on the couch, he's flipping you over, contorting you face down ass up, and he’s nuzzling into your clothed pussy like a dog in fucking heat. when he’s finally spent just enough time shrouded in the scent of you, he's yanking your shorts off. he’s been at this for approximately 2 minutes but there's already a wet patch in the center of your panties. that sight makes his pupils dilate before going in for the kill. his claws come out to rip your panties to shreds right before he straight up nose dives into your pussy, and granted you can feel him, the action still catches you off guard enough for you to emit a loud gasp. it’s just too much too fast. “mig- ohhh!~”

“mmm... mmmf” miguel gets so much satisfaction from tasting you that he releases moans of his own. they would be bouncing around the room and intermingling with yours except right now he can't bring himself to pry his tongue from the slick walls of your cunt. 

“oh my gosh- miguel!”

hearing you raise your voice in alarm while saying his name is enough to make miguel pause for a second. you take the moment of reprieve to look over your shoulder— huffing and puffing— only to be stunned by miguel’s animalistic look. his curls are messily hanging near his eyes which are dark, yet spacey as if he’s on another planet. his lips are parted just enough to show a peek of his fangs as he breathes heavily through his mouth after suffocating himself with your pussy, and a gleaming mixture of his spit and your slick is smothered over half of his face and all the way down to his collarbone.

“m- miggy could you just give me a few seconds?” you ask. miguel tilts his head to the side and scoffs. a curt “no” is all you get before miguel locks his arms around your thighs to drag you back to his watering mouth. you don’t have claws like miguel but if you did the couch cushions would definitely be in shreds from the way you’re gripping them. 

the wet slurps of miguel’s tongue lapping at your cunt are soon paired with two of his thick fingers easily slipping in thanks to your arousal. he scissors them for a moment before adding a third. the speed he uses to pump them in and out and the feeling of his slightly calloused fingers against your gummy walls leaves you floating in the clouds. you’re brought crashing back down, however, when a deep groan from miguel sends sparks up your spine. soon enough you feel pressure building at the bottom of your stomach, only it doesn’t feel like it usually does. in a fit of panic you try to drag yourself out of miguel’s grip.

“ohhh my go- miggy!” it’s all you can do to let out little slurred calls of his name, but it doesn’t matter. miguel’s not stopping until he’s satisfied. your escape attempts are useless, but the wiggling is enough to piss him off.

“querida. don’t move so much. be good.” but you can’t be still. the tingly feeling in your tummy is growing and all you can do let out breathy moans as you thrash around in ecstacy.

“ahh- i can- can’t help it!”

all of your moving loosened miguel’s grip too much for his liking. in less than a second, he's yanking you back towards his mouth and hoisting your hips just high enough to wrap his lips around your cute little clit. 

one hard suck is all it takes before you’re squealing at the top of your lungs. a scream of “miguel!~” is the only thing leaving your lips while your vision goes white and your breathing stops for a second. miguel is unrelenting behind you, switching to messily swiping his thumb across your clit and shoving his tongue back into your pulsating cunt in an attempt to catch every last drop squirting in to his mouth. 

even when your arms give out beneath you and you faceplant into the couch miguel is still lapping at your outer lips like he’s been saved after being stranded in the desert for a year.

and like that, it’s like the switch in his brain flips again. he smooths his hands up and down your trembling thighs and scatters kisses in a path up your back to the nape of your neck. “you okay, cariño?” a weak “mhm” is all you can muster up as you turn your head to flash miguel a floaty smirk. he smiles and chuckles, recognizing the foggy look in your eyes. covered in a sheen of sweat and high off the feeling of him is just one of the times miguel thinks you look the most beautiful.

after ghosting his hands across your skin and giving you a few minutes to calm down, miguel goes to gently move you to his lap. he buries his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling all of you. with the little strength you have, you wiggle around in his lap attempting to get comfortable but something is in the way- 

“ohh~” miguel’s breath is hot on your neck as he groans into it. his fangs graze your skin, his hands grasp onto your hips for dear life and oh...

someone flipped the damn switch again...

[mythicalmaven]

19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected. 

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening? 

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling. 

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Sequel

Masterlist

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 

“I know.” 

… 

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big. 

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 

“Miguel?”

“Mm?” 

“You better get me a suit like yours.” 

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

[hihomeghere]

Insomniac

Word Count : 1.8k Summary : Five has trouble sleeping and when he does sleep it's anything but peaceful. After a nightmare he craves your touch to remind him you're okay. Warnings/Tags : Talk of nightmares, insomnia, smut, piv, cursing, allusions to violence, use of y/n, Aged up!Five

Happy Valentine’s Day <3

Whether or not Five wanted to admit it he was an insomniac. Blame it on his heightened survival instincts from the apocalypse, or the commission. Whenever it was time to relax and go to sleep, Five felt more wired than ever. Which led to you normally finding him in the strangest positions when he finally crashed. Whether that be hunched over the kitchen table, cold coffee in a mug next to him. Sometimes you’d find him slouched in a chair, a blanket draped over him by one of his brothers. Your favorite was when you’d be watching a movie together, his eyes slowly closing, he’d mumble something along the lines of, ‘just resting his eyes for a second’ before he’d be snoring on your shoulder. A sure sign that he was still an old man in a young man’s body.

It’s not like he didn’t try to sleep. Every night you’d both climb into bed, you’d lay your head on his chest, the soft beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. He’d lay awake, his mind constantly churning. He’d gotten so desperate at one point he’d tried to follow the meditation video Klaus had lent him. Although listening to some lady stoned out of her mind telling him to breathe deep only agitated him further.

On the nights where Five did fall asleep it was anything but peaceful.

Five screamed, waking you up as you all but jumped out of your skin. Five sat up in bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing erratic. You sat up, the sheet pooling around your waist.

“Five?” You whispered your hand lightly grazing his back. He jumped, turning to you like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back in a snarl, wide eyes glaring at you. “Hey,” You pulled back watching the gears turn behind his eyes, guilt washing over him as he realized you weren’t a threat. “Hey it’s ok, you’re ok.” He leaned forward resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him. His heart was beating like a small animal against your chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his head resting in the crook of your neck. Hot tears wetting your collarbone.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” You soothed, your hand traveling up to his head. You ran your fingers through hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He let out a shuddering breath, loosening his grip around your waist. “Do you want some tea?” You asked, you had been trying to help him kick his coffee addiction.

“Coffee.” He mumbled, sighing into your neck.

“Ok, let’s get some coffee.” You said peeling the sheets off the two of you. He sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. You grabbed your robe off the floor, wrapping it around your body. Five stood by your bedroom door, bleary eyed. You took his hand leading him down the stairs to the kitchen. You looked at the clock as you passed the oven, 2:35. You internally sighed slipping your hand out of Five’s grasp. He pulled out a chair, grimacing as it scraped across the tile floor. You walked over to your new Keurig, Five’s birthday present. You popped one of the pods in before shutting the lid. You walked over to the kitchen cupboards, pulling out a mug and setting it in the Keurig. The smell of coffee filled the air as Five got up from his seat. He walked up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. His arms wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck. You had both been trying to be more open about your pasts. Which meant having these uncomfortable conversations.

“Just-” He sighed, “Just stay with me for a minute, dearest.” You nodded slightly swaying as you both stood in the kitchen. Five loosened his grip around your waist, reaching past you to pick up his coffee cup. You leaned against the counter, pulling your robe closer around your body. He held the mug in one of his hands, leaning his head back against the cupboard cabinet. He let out a sigh before taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re staring.” He mused, turning to look at you.

“I’m just-” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders, “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” He said with a tight lipped smile. You raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms.

“I know you better than that.” You said a small smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.

“Then you know what it was about.” He huffed, bringing the mug to his lips.

“A or c?” You asked, looking down at your feet. You had invented a code between the two of you, A for apocalypse and C for commission. While you couldn’t relate to being stuck in a post apocalyptic world, you were all too familiar with the inner workings of the commission. The killings you both carried out plagued your dreams as well. Your hands had been stained long ago.

“C.” He answered. The commission. Well that narrowed it down.

“Real or not real?” He hesitated, sneaking a glimpse toward you before raising his gaze toward the ceiling.

“Not real.” He said before clearing his throat. You walked over to him, laying your hands on his cheek. He avoided your gaze keeping his eyes lo

“Was it about me?” You asked, pushing his head slightly with your hand to get him to look at you.

“Yeah.” He said clenching his jaw, his eyes darted away from yours. You waited for a moment, to see if he would say anything more.

“I’m right here.” You whispered after a moment had passed, “I’m right here and I’m ok.”

“I know,” He leaned forward his lips finding your neck, he breathed in your sweet scent. The tiniest hint of sweat from the night. His hands found your hips, pulling you against him.

“I need you.” He breathed against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses.

“You have me.” You sighed, leaning your head back offering him your neck.

The world spun and the temperature dropped as Five blinked you both back to your room. It took a second to get your bearings before your knees hit the bed. You allowed Five to lay you down, his long fingers curling under the waistband of your pajama pants. He pulled them off, while you pulled your shirt over your head.

“So gorgeous.” He murmured, kissing up your stomach. You sighed contently, melting under his touch. He pulled away briefly, pulling his shirt off and stepped out of his pajama bottoms. Leaving both of you in your underwear. He lifted your hips up off the bed, his fingers curling into the waistband on your panties as he pulled them off. Your body buzzed with anticipation as you watched him take off his boxers. He climbed forward onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You grabbed the back of his neck pulling him forward into a kiss as the head of his cock found your entrance. Tasting the bitter coffee on his tongue as slipped inside with the familiar ease of a lover. You gasped into his mouth, feeling every inch of him as he pressed inside you.

“There you are.” He sighed against your lips, his own curling into an easy smile.

“Five-“ You moaned, gripping his shoulders as he slowly started thrusting inside you. He never left your cunt, hips rolling against yours. Your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close as possible. Your moans and the sweet sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air. You looked up at Five, his eyes bore into yours. You felt a bit shy under his gaze, your eyes darting away.

He stilled, laying his forearms beside your head as leant over you. He covered your body with his own, his hand turning your head so you would look at him.

“Let me see you.” He said softly, nosing against your cheek.

It was moments like this that made you feel like a normal person. Moments when it was just the two of you in the world, two becoming one. He reached down, grabbing your thigh, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. “You feel so good.” He mumbled, pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. He was taking his time with you tonight, that much was clear.

Your heels dug into his butt, trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a small laugh, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. He slowed, his hips creating a low drag into your cunt with every thrust. His pubic hair rubbing against your clit in a delicious way that had you clenching around him. A low whine pulling its way out of your throat, as he propped himself up.

“You like that doll?” He whispered, his cock rubbed at your walls in deliberate strokes.

“Mmhm.” You nodded tears springing to your eyes as you bit your lip. Your body craved more, more stimulation, more Five. “Please.” You whined, your hands digging into his shoulders, leaving small crescent shapes in their wake.

“Please what?” He asked tilting his head as he leaned down, nipping and sucking at your neck.

“More, I need more please.” You said bucking your hips up to gain and friction.

“As you wish.” He said, his breath fanning across your neck as he snapped his hips into yours. You moaned, your eyes rolling back into your head as he set an excruciating pace. He sat back on his heels, pulling you down the bed with him. He slammed into you, leaving you a moaning mess under him. You grabbed his thighs, nails dragging down his pale legs. Your body buzzed as you neared your high, breasts bouncing as he drove into again and again.

He watched you, picking up subtle signs your orgasm was approaching. Your toes curled as he reached between your bodies, rubbing deliberate circles on your clit.

That was enough to send you over the edge, you spasmed around him, your nails digging into his thighs as you cried out. Tears slipping down your cheeks.

“That’s it.” He smirked, breathing hard. He was getting sloppy as he neared his peak. You continued to ride out your orgasm as his came crashing down.

“F-Fuck.” He groaned spilling into you, his hips stuttering as he painted your insides. He lowered his body onto yours, laying his head in the crook of your neck as he interlaced his fingers with yours. You both breathed hard, letting your heart rate come down.

“How do you feel now?” You asked breathlessly, squeezing his hands.

“Much better.” He nodded, kissing your neck. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You said pulling your hands away to wrap them around his sweaty body.

Needless to say, Five slept through the night