#and she COMPLETELY misunderstood him and who he was

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

One last post about my poll. I know Blackthorn’s a very unknown character but I put her on there because I think she kicks ass. She was introduced in the last 5 issues of Vigilante because Kupperberg wanted to try to spin her off into her own solo and she’s another vigilante reflection whos as fucked up and weird as the rest of them AND she just keeps showing up in Checkmate just ruining everyones day and starting shit. Also she threatened General Eiling in Janus Directive and

[p4ranormaluv]

BED CHEM

amidst trying to keep your gpa up and not get kicked off the cheer team, you take your friend’s advice and ask jake sim, one of the smartest students in your campus, to tutor you. you see him as a snarky know-it-all who’s obsessed with correcting your every mistake, and he sees you as a dumb cheerleader with a rep for breaking hearts. but as things unfold, you discover you both have something to learn from each other, and it’s a lot more than just algebra.

pairing) nerd!jake x cheerleader!reader

genre) smut/pwp, enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, angst

contents) f!reader, popular!jake/reader, jake's a smart a.ss [& a jerk at first but let him cook], basketball player!heeseung/jay, temporary reader x hee, exes, misunderstood reader, brief conversation about throwing up, eventual pining, desc. of anxiety, fear of emotional intimacy, jealousy, lack of communication, happy ending, [ft. itzy's chaeryeong, skz's felix, & layla]

smut warnings) under cut!

wc) 14.5k

now playing) bed chem — sabrina carpenter

notes) i took the lyrics “come right on me, i mean camaraderie!” and ran with it. fic’s moodboard here!

smut warnings) several smut scenes, switch!jake/reader, angry s.ex?, s.ex in locker room, jake fu.cks reader in cheer uniform, ti.tty sucking, or.al fixation!jake, munch!jake, or.al s.ex, degra.dation, begging, hair pulling, c.um swallowing, exhibi.tionism, reader makes jake almost c.um in his pants during class, s.ex in janitor’s closet [they do it in a bed eventually lol], lots of kissing, praise, flexible!reader, pull out method [dont], jake slaps reader’s thigh once, petnames [baby, little/baby/good girl], reader mentions being on the pill, raw s.ex

the gym is bustling, filled by cheerleaders and the basketball team as you all practice for the game on wednesday.

“okay! 5 minute break and then we’ll start those high kicks again!” your cheer captian announces after confirming to your coach with some silent hand gestures.

you follow your team as they walk to the bleachers, most grabbing their water bottles or sitting down and wiping the sweat off their skin with a towel.

you reach into your duffel bag, rummaging with your hand blindly for a few moments before realizing you don’t feel your water bottle. unzipping it completely, you search for a bit before letting your head drop with an exhausted sigh.

“what’s wrong?” chaeryeong asks from the seat above yours as she redoes her ponytail.

“i somehow forgot my water.”

“oh, you can have some of mine!” she offers, raising her owala to you.

“do you know how much bacteria is probably in that?” you smile with a teasing grimace, even though you really do mean what you say.

“wow, not even a thank you!” chae pretends to be hurt, putting an offended hand to her chest. “i bet you’re a stanley girly, aren’t you?”

“nope. just a plain water bottle i got from target. secure screw cap, no straw, easy to clean.”

“are you trying to sell it to me?” chae quirks a playful brow and you laugh, waving a hand in front of you as you start to walk towards the gym’s exit. “if you want to drink from your mold filled bottle go ahead. i’m gonna go to the water fountain.”

chaeryeong sticks her tongue out at you just as you enter the hallway, so you make sure to pop your head back in and do the same childish expression at her before approaching the fountain and leaning down to take a drink.

“oh! s-sorry.” a deep voice says as you see sneakers suddenly appear in your downward view. you wipe your mouth and lift your head up to see heeseung, who evidently just came out of the restroom and almost walked right into you.

his hair remains in his face despite him brushing it back with a muscular arm, glistening biceps almost distracting you enough that you forget to answer. but once your eyes travel from his sculpted arms, to his jersey that clings to his sweaty chest, and finally his sweet, doe eyes that stare at you, you remember that he’s expecting you to reply.

“no, it’s okay! don’t worry about it.”

“did you forget your water too?” he chuckles, the sound sending a flurry of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“yeah…” you answer lamely.

apparently all of your hot cheerleader mojo goes down the drain when you’re in front of lee heeseung, your college’s top basketball player. (it also doesn’t help that you’ve been crushing on him for a good month now.)

“too?” you echo, unable to think of anything else to keep the conversation going but desperately wanting to. despite having regular practices in the same vicinity, this is the first conversation you’ve had, aside from some lingering stares and a few shared smiles.

“jay usually brings a cooler of drinks, but he didn’t this time. probably forgot.”

“oh, pre game nerves, perhaps?” you joke, smiling and tilting your head teasingly.

“we’re not nervous.” heeseung smirks with a flirty tone. “we always win.”

“cocky, are we?”

“maybe. or maybe you cheering for me throughout the game is my lucky charm.”

you bite down your grin to keep yourself under control, delighted at how well your dry conversation has turned into some playful flirting. you hoped he was into you, but you’re not going to assume that from a few distant smiles.

“what makes you think i’m cheering just for you?”

heeseung chuckles and steps closer, you noting how he has to tilt his head down to look at you because he’s so damn tall. his eyes zero in on yours, an intensity filling the air as he takes a breath to speak—

but right before he can, another voice interrupts as it echos down the hallway.

“yo, hee! they’re needing you back, man.” a shorter man runs up, it not taking you long to recognize him.

it’s jake sim, one of the smartest seniors on your campus.

you feel like you’re from completely different worlds whenever you see him. he’s popular like you, yes. but he has a pretty clean rep with perfect grades to match. professor’s love him for his kiss-ass attitude and students…well.

they want to fuck him— or him fuck them. either way. nothing really matters to anyone when your face is as cute as his and you have a hot aussie accent.

not that you relate to the any of those sentiments. you actually find him annoying as fuck.

“oh,” jake mumbles when he notices you behind heeseung’s larger frame, sounding almost bothered by your presence.

well the feeling’s mutual.

“come on, dude. they sent me to get you.” he further urges, grabbing heeseung’s arm.

“what are you even doing here, jake?” you ask with a hand raising to your hip, only a hint of your annoyance at the interruption showing in your tone. he’s not on the basketball team, neither cheer. he has no reason to be here.

“not right now, pom-poms.” the boy dismisses, not even bothering to look at you as he drags heeseung off.

you scoff in utter disbelief at his rudeness.

he always steals the spotlight when you’re about to answer a question in your one shared class, and now he’s stealing your man? (granted, he’s not your man— but he could have been, if jake hadn’t ran over!)

you stand and wonder what he was about to say. what if that conversation could have ended with him finally asking for your number!

“y/n! c’mon, girl! it’s go time!” one of your team member’s call out from the gym doorway.

you sigh before running to join your squad.

(❤︎)

it’s taken you to nearly be under your minimum gpa to admit that you’re failing algebra, a course you’re required to take. not only can this harm your future, but you could get kicked off the cheer team.

“well, you have to do something!” chaeryeong whisper-yells at you as you sit in physics class.

“i don’t want to have to pay for a tutor, i’m broke enough as it is.”

“then ask one of your friends.” chae suggests.

“…none of my friends are that smart,” you giggle under your breath, chaeryeong slapping you on the arm and causing an echo to resound in the room. like two mischievous children, chae retracts her hand to her lap and you straighten your posture, waiting to make sure no one is looking over at you.

a few moments later, and chae leans closer to you, eyes staring forward in an attempt to be more subtle.

"just ask jake. he's an engineer major. he’s gotta be good at algebra. and i heard he's loaded, so he doesn’t even need your money."

"hell no." you answer plainly, lips falling into a straight line as you glance over at the boy who’s rows away from you, nearly at the front of the class.

try hard.

"oh, come on, y/n. he's not that bad."

"he is. and besides, we’re not friends and i couldn’t ever bring myself to ask a favor of him, nevertheless for free!”

“he’s your best shot, dude. it’s either this, or officially screw yourself over.”

chaeryeong’s words— though not eloquently put, are true. and they annoyingly ring in your head for the remainder of the class.

chae hurries out to go to her next class, as does most everyone else. but you have a little bit of time.

so you linger in your seat, watching how meticulous jake is about placing his things in his backpack, wondering how he manages to straighten his glasses in the most egotistical way possible. you wait until jake starts walking towards the exit and is farther away from the professor, not wanting to have this conversation right in front of him. finally (reluctantly) you stand up and catch up to jake’s side.

he doesn’t bother slowing down, continuing to walk.

“hey, uh- jake,” you begin, feeling weird to say his name to his face. you cut to the chase, not caring enough to keep up impressions with him. “look, i need a tutor. i’m-“

“no, sorry.” he cuts you off simply, leaving you a tad stunned as your stride is broken. you stare at the back of his head until he turns a corner, then you go jogging after him.

“what? but, i-i”

“i don’t want to have to spend my free time tutoring someone.” jake explains, glancing at you before looking away just as quickly.

“i can pay you.” you say, innerly embarrassed at how fast your resolve has crumbled. chaeryeong would be laughing at you if she could see this right now.

“not interested.”

you can almost hear her in your brain…

“well, there’s gotta be something!”

jake finally comes to a sudden halt, almost causing you to run into his backpack before he turns to face you.

“i’m assuming it’s grammar you need help with?”

your initially surprised expression drops into a glare as you reply with a clearly fed up, “no. algebra.”

jake seems to ponder this for a moment, before smiling at you in a way that actually seems like it may be genuine (or at least not entirely snarky).

“walk my dog.”

“huh?” is that a euphemism for something?

“my dog, layla. she’s full of energy but sometimes i’m just too tired after classes or work. do you like animals?”

“i’m a biology major.”

jake looks a bit stunned, eyes blinking to open wider as they skim over your appearance for a second.

“what?” you start, very clearly offended. “why do you look so surprised?”

“i just thought it’d be…something else.”

“like what?”

“i don’t know. something in the creative field?”

“that’s stereotypical.”

jake bites on his bottom lip, you realizing he’s trying to conceal a smile, but before you can get mad about it— he continues.

“look, if you want it, we have a deal. yes or no, pom-poms?”

a flare of anger sparks inside you every single time he refers to you as ‘pom-poms’.

with lips pressed into an agitated line, you stretch out your open palm demandingly. “give me your phone.”

“why?”

“so i can give you my number and type in the contact name myself. my names y/n, not pom-poms.”

jake laughs under his breath, handing you his phone and watching as you type in your information.

“so is that a yes?”

“yes. can we meet tomorrow?”

“at my place.” jake agrees. “jay’s my only roommate so it should be less distracting for you.”

you hand jake back his phone, the man giggling at the little wave emoji you sent to yourself through his number so you’d have it in your phone.

“by the way, i already knew your name.”

“then why do you always call me pom-poms?”

“becaause…you always have them?” jake answers like it’s obvious. you scoff, putting an unamused hand to your hip.

“i don’t have them right now, do i?”

“no, and it’s honestly a little eerie.” he smirks, clearly intentionally getting under your skin and enjoying every second of it.

“whatever,” you exhale, completely over the conversation. “i gotta go to my next class. see ya.”

“see ya, pom-poms.”

…jerk.

(❤︎)

heeseung was right, they won the game, and his team wanted to go out and celebrate. it wasn’t a big win or anything, just a casual competition, but every now and then they like to celebrate their wins by going out to eat or a casual hang out at someone’s dorm. you also think they do it so they have an excuse to invite you and your cheer squad to hang out.

and this time was no different. after the game you all piled in friend’s cars and headed over to a small but good local restaurant nearby. unfortunately, you never got a chance to talk to heeseung. the restaurant was smaller and a bit packed with all of you in there, and you and hee ended up being seated far away from each other. all the different conversations and bustle of the restaurant covered up anyone’s voices besides who was right next to you, so you couldn’t even hear him.

still, it was fun. you ended up rolling into bed a little past 1 am.

which you’re now really regretting as you had to wake up at 5 am to get ready and rush to conditioning practice. once you’ve finished your drills, showered, and are walking to your first class of the day, you decided to text jake.

you: hey 👋 we still down for today

jake sim: Yes.

okay. one text and you’re already seeing some similarities in how he texts with your 60 year old uncle.

you: there a certain time i should come

you: also can u give me ur building number

jake: Is there*

you: huh

jake: IS there a certain time I should come?*

jake: Do you have something against vowels and punctuation?

you: omg!!

you: just tell me the fuckin time and address!!?!

you: is that enough punctuation for you?

jake: …

jake: Fucking*

(❤︎)

after cheer practice you hop in your car and enter in the address that was like pulling teeth for jake to finally give you. you can tell by looking at the address that it’s off campus, and as you pull up in jake’s driveway you realize chaeryeong was right when she said jake was loaded.

okay, maybe not loaded loaded, but he’s definitely well off, judging by the outside of his very nice home, perfectly stripe cut grass and shapely shrubbery. there’s even multiple cars here, which you note with a bit of confusion.

you stand and knock at the big, sculpted wooden doors for a minute, before simply trying the knob, which is luckily unlocked.

when you step inside you here distant voices.

deciding to follow the sound, it leads you to a billiard room where you see heeseung, jake and jay playing pool. they’re all stood around while a blonde haired man has his back to you, leaned over as he angles his shot. they still haven’t noticed your presence yet, and you feel incredibly awkward despite being invited to be here.

“um…jake?”

at your voice, all the men turn at once, the blonde man revealing his face to you.

you’re struck with horror as you both stare wide eyed at each other. someone’s speaking but you don’t catch it, everything sounding like it’s under water.

it’s lee felix. aka your ex that you abruptly ghosted after almost a year into your relationship.

“y/n?” felix utters, and it’s like you just breached the water’s surface, a sudden wave of consciousness washing over you as everything comes back into focus.

“y/n, i’m so sorry! i legitimately forgot!” jake says, and you take your opportunity to look at him and away from felix.

“it’s- its okay, i just…um,” you’re about to offer to leave, before heeseung speaks up.

“just stay, y/n. ever played pool?” he smiles sweetly, and the goosebumps that have raised on your skin soothe a little at his comforting expression.

“yeah! we can play cutthroat!” jay exclaims, already going over to the rack to get you a cue.

“she can just use mine.” heeseung stops him, coming to your side and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“we’ve come close enough to poking someone’s eye out already, i don’t think we need more pointy sticks in the equation.” he laughs.

“okay, but i’m going first, since i was going to win that last game anyways.”

“as if, bro!” jay tries with jake. “i was gonna win!”

as heeseung moves to intervene the two boys and rearrange the balls on the table, at some point felix silently appears by your side, startling you as he softly says “have you played cutthroat before?”

“no,” you answer just as softly as the boys fill in the silence with their bickering. “i don’t even know how to play regular pool.”

felix laughs with a shining smile, and your chest fills with bittersweet nostalgia at the familiar yet almost forgotten memory of the deep timber of felix’s laugh and the crinkle of his nose that often pairs with it.

“don’t worry, cutthroat is actually a pretty good game for your first time despite the name. want me to show you how to hold your cue?”

“is that the stick thing?” you ask, and felix bursts into higher pitched giggles, the warmth of his aura making the tension in your body melt away.

(❤︎)

so much for jake’s place being ‘less distracting’. it’s 9 pm and you don’t think you’re actually going to have a session with jake tonight. but oh well, you’re actually having fun!

after about two hours of playing pool and just hanging out, you ask jake where the bathroom is before walking down the long hallway.

as you’re walking back, coming up to the archway of jake’s living room you all ended up migrating to, you hear heeseung speaking.

“i didn’t know you were tutoring her?”

“yeah,” jake answers with a huffed laugh. “i haven’t actually tutored her yet, and i probably never will.”

your brows furrow as you halt your feet, standing in the hallway silently to listen.

“what do you mean?” another voice asks. you think it’s jay.

“i don’t think she’s really looking to brush up on her algebra, man. she’s a typical dumb cheerleader, she’s probably just over here because she knows i’m friends with the basketball team.”

“dude-“ heeseung starts, but another thicker aussie accent interrupts.

“that’s fucked, man! how can you say that about her?”

there’s a tense few moments of silence, and you’re not sure if you wished you could see what’s happening or glad that you can’t. you blink as moisture starts to build up in your eyes.

“me? what about you? i’m surprised you’re defending her. didn’t she drop you like you meant nothing to her right when your relationship started to get serious?”

you can’t. you can’t listen anymore.

as quiet and quickly as possible, you head back to the bathroom before a watery gasp can expose your presence. a hand is rubbing at your eyes as tears stream down your face when your hands feel the cool metal of the doorknob.

you shut the door behind you and slide down it, onto your butt, crying into your knees that you wrap your arms around.

then you feel something wet swipe up your leg and you flinch, looking up to see a blonde little dog looking at you curiously.

“oh,” you whisper aloud to yourself, trying not to think about how stuffy you sound. “you must be layla, huh?”

the dogs mouth opens up to let her tongue hang out, appearing like she’s giving you a smile as she sits down obediently, tail wagging behind her.

you can’t help but let out a somber little giggle, wiping a tear off your cheek before leaning over to pet her on the head.

“you’re cute.” you smile, letting her soft fur and rhythmic panting calm you down.

a few minutes later the door opens, jake’s head popping in.

“oh, there you are.” he says, watching how layla is spread out on her back in your lap as you pet her belly.

“did you get lost?”

“uh, yeah.” you take the excuse, gently pushing layla off and standing up. “couldn’t find the bathroom.”

“heeseung and felix are about to leave, but they wanted to say bye.” jake explains, and you follow him out the door and to wherever the boys are.

“okay.” you reply, trying to make your voice sound smooth and not like you were just crying.

“hey, jake?”

the aussie looks over at you as you continue walking.

“can we still get a short tutoring sesh in?” you ask innocently on the outside, but inwardly there’s the burn of spite in your lungs. “i know it’s kinda late but i really need it.”

“oh…yeah, sure.” jake answers, looking away from you.

you bite down a salty smirk.

(❤︎)

after going over to jake’s house you turned his texts to mute and haven’t looked ever since.

it’s saturday night, which means football competition. a neighboring team is at your college’s home field to play head to head, and right now, it’s anybody’s game.

you’re in the middle of a cupie stunt right now, your base holding your body up with one hand as you focus on balancing and keeping on a big smile.

once your team’s routine is over you go to sit on the sidelines as the announcer’s voice booms over the speakers.

“hey, i’m gonna go get a gatorade.” chaeryeong taps on your shoulder, pointing at the food vendor who walks up the bleacher steps. “do you want anything?”

you turn to look, which proves to be a mistake as you make direct eye contact with none other than jake sim, who’s staring right at you amongst the crowd (and he looks a little ticked).

you snap your head back straight, letting out a yelped ‘no’. chae luckily doesn’t really pick up on your change of tone with how loud the crowd is, and replies with an ‘okay’ before jogging after the descending vendor.

she comes back a few moments later with her drink and a bag of chips.

“i don’t know how you eat during the games, aren’t you afraid you’ll get sick during a routine?”

“you’re on tiktok too much.” chae replies as she pops open the bag. “stop watching those horrible clips. it’s not very likely to happen at all. and i’m not a flyer like you. even if i puked, it wouldn’t get on anyone.”

“okaay! sorry i brought it up, getting grossed oout!”

chaeryeong laughs, bumping her shoulders with yours.

“hey, tell me about how it went with jake?”

you sigh with a roll of your eyes. “he only taught me for like, an hour.”

“oh!” chae squeals amidst chewing. “perhaps that was because you were too busy falling in love?!”

“oh my god, shut up, chae!”

the girl takes a quick swig of her drink before doing the exact opposite of what you asked. “do you know how many couples start off hating each other? you know, that burning anger you have for him could make for some hot se—“

“chaeryeong!” you gasp and chae laughs at how you sound like a scandalized victorian woman who just saw someone’s ankles. “stop it! that’s never happening.”

“i bet you’d have really good bed chem.” she states like it’s a fact.

“whatever.” you say just as the stadium erupts.

your home team doesn’t win, but your cheer squad goes out on the field to do your last routine anyways. you all go to the locker room to change after, most of your team moving quick to go to some party.

“you not coming, y/n?” your friend asks, chaeryeong also looking at you for your answer.

“i don’t think so, guys. maybe next time.”

eventually everyone walks out, leaving you alone as you set your pom-poms down.

amidst taking off your top, your hair falls into your face, leading you to shake your head as you blindly place your shirt inside your locker. when you open your eyes, you spot jake in your peripheral, staring at you wide eyed like an idiot while holding open the door.

“jake!” you screech, moving to cover your chest with your arms. “what the fuck!”

“i’m- i-i’m sorry, i was just trying to find you-“

“i don’t care, pervert! don’t come in the locker room!”

even with the distance, you can see how jake’s ears turn red. his face morphs from embarrassed panic to mad (and still embarrassed), the boy stomping closer until he’s right in front of you.

“i’m not a pervert, you kept ignoring my texts! we had a deal, you know!”

“well, you pissed me off!”

“me! how did i piss you off?”

“you- you’re…so fucking annoying!” you let out, not even knowing where you’re going with this as you get up in jake’s face.

“you ruined my chances with heeseung and act like an ass all the time!”

“ruined your chances! how did i ruin your chances with hee?” jake asks, and you back down a bit, not wanting to tell jake that you heard what he said that night.

at your silence, jake takes the opportunity to continue. “i mean, yeah. i don’t want you to be with heeseung, but that doesn’t mean i’d meddle—“

“and why don’t you want me to be with heeseung,” you interject, getting closer inch by inch to jake’s face as he stands his ground, giving you the same piercing eyes you challenge him with. “is it because…you think i’ll break his heart?”

you try to ask the question with just as much bite as your previous, hoping your insecurities don’t show through.

jake blanches, slightly taken aback by the directness of your question before he doubles down ten fold, pressing closer to you until your noses almost touch.

“yeah. maybe i do.” he grumbles to admit, breath puffing into your face.

you inhale to scoff, but then your chest brushes up against his, and suddenly you both remember that you’re only in a bra and cheer skirt.

jake glances down, eyes flitting over how your boobs press together when you have your arms angrily crossed, before meeting your gaze again.

the next thing you know, your lips are on his.

you don’t know who leaned in first, all you know is that he tastes like lemonade, tart but sweet enough to leave you wanting more.

his hands immediately go to your breasts, pushing you up against the lockers in his haste as the metal clangs and echos around the room, covering up your soft moan of shock.

your hands naturally move to rest at his stomach, where your surprised to feel the firm divots and raises of abs.

“do you-…do you workout?” you pant after parting from jake’s lips to take a breath. the boy doesn’t bother stopping, trailing his mouth from the corner of yours to down your neck, kissing and mouthing along your bra strap.

“can i take this off?” he asks, ignoring your question. you nod with a quiet little ‘yes’, jake reaching behind you to snap open your bra with one hand.

you try not to be too impressed (and fail), noting to yourself that the rumors must be true and this nerd does indeed fuck.

jake hastily guides your bra down your arms and tosses it to the side, latching his plush lips to your bud as his veiny hands continue to kneed at your breasts.

“oh my god,” you whisper under your breath, fingers moving to run through his hair as you let your head lean back against the locker. jake lets out a breathy groan at the feeling of you on his tongue and how you’re unconsciously giving small tugs to the tufts of his hair.

you whimper and flinch at the ghost of jake’s teeth on your nipple, quite literally feeling the curve of his smile on your skin as he glances up at you, not bothering to detach from your tits as his eyes sparkle with mischief. you let out a sigh as you smirk down at him, giving a now conscious, firm pull to his hair and watching how jake’s eyes shut in the stinging pleasure, a throaty moan escaping him.

“you’re a jerk.”

jake kisses from the swell of your breast and down your stomach in response, as though apologizing. now on his knees, he pauses at the waistband of your skirt. your hands move to take it off before jake stops you, sliding his palms over the material and to your thighs, squeezing at the plushness of them as he moves his head downward.

butterfly kisses are now being pressed up your legs until jake’s face is fully under your skirt. you put a hand over your mouth as you feel jake slowly sliding your panties down, trying to contain a needy moan at his teasing.

“damn, you’re wet.” jake whispers, the breath of his voice tickling your skin and causing your legs to tremble.

“please?” you whine, but only barely, still trying to hold on to some of your dignity.

“please what, pom-poms?” jake asks, and you can hear the smugness in his tone even while his face is hidden.

your eyes roll.

“oh my god, jake. please just shut the fuck up and eat me out!”

“can do.”

that’s all the warning jake gives before burying his face in your pussy, going at it like he’s starved.

you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out, not wanting jake to know just how good his mouth feels. (god knows his ego doesn’t need the boost.) you think you’re doing pretty good at keeping quiet, even when jake flicks your clit with his tongue, you only flinch slightly.

but jake takes notice of your silence, and it’s pissing him off.

so he runs a digit through the wetness of your pussy before pressing the entirety of it into your hole roughly, feeling how tightly your walls clench around him.

“f- fuck!” you startle.

it’s only one finger, but the length of it and the stretch his knuckles provide as he pumps them in and out of you mercilessly is making you come undone quicker than you would have thought.

jake’s making lots of slurping noises as his tongue licks at your leaking hole, nose nuzzling over your pulsing clit.

fuck, this man knows how to eat pussy. and when he presses a second finger inside of you, you know you’ve lost the quiet game. a whine comes from your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut, hips moving in small motions to meet the thrust of jake’s fingers.

he’s growling against you, eyes shut as he seems lost in the taste of you.

it isn’t until your head rolls to the side in pleasure that you notice he’s tugged his pants down just enough for his (to your shock, very big) cock to spring out, jerking himself off furiously as pre cum dribbles from the head.

“are you- fucking serious?” you laugh breathlessly, jake not stoping but opening his eyes to give you a confused glare.

“you’re getting off just from eating my pussy? how many of your hookups know you’re a munch?”

jake’s suddenly pulling his mouth off and fingers out of you with a cold look, but the hand on his cock never slows. if anything, it gets faster.

“if you’re gonna be a brat then i’m not making you cum.”

you’re thrown off, not expecting him to react this way, or how strangely embarrassed yet turned on it makes you feel. something about how angrily jake glares at you while he fists his big cock, even while he’s the one kneeling at your feet, it makes you feel oddly small.

and as much as it pains you to admit, desperate.

“i’m- i’m…sorry?”

jake lets out a humored scoff, shaking his head.

“you’re gonna have to do better than that. beg.”

you grit your teeth as you let out a frustrated sigh, unable to make eye contact as you force yourself to speak.

“please…make me cum.”

jake gives you an utterly unimpressed expression. “or i can just leave-“

“no! please, i- i’m sorry. i’ll be good, i wont be a brat anymore. just please make me cum?”

jake’s lips slowly stretch into a smirk that makes chills run down your spine, watching as his hand returns to his dick to rub over the leaking tip.

you unconsciously lick your lips and swallow.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks darkly.

“y- yes. i’ll be a good girl.”

jake’s diving back in with double the passion, his fingers slipping right back in as he curls them just right inside of you, hurling you towards climax.

“ah, j-jake, please! need- can i?” you pant, hardly able to get a word out as he’s sucking at your clit, giving it special attention.

he hums and you take it as a yes, thighs trembling as you cum all over jake’s chin.

“my turn.” jake growls, standing up and pushing you down to kneel in front of him, barely giving you any time to catch your breath before he’s shoving his dick in your mouth. still, you moan out happily, admittedly dying to have him in your mouth the moment you saw his pretty, pink tip and how big he is.

“that’s it, suck my cock like a good little slut.” jake orders, admiring how hot you look sitting on the floor in your short little cheer skirt. he grabs your hair in two fists, chuckling at how it looks like makeshift pigtails as he pulls on your hair to guide you further down his cock.

you sputter, struggling to take his bulbous tip down your throat but loving it and the stretch your jaw has to make to accommodate him.

he’s literally fucking your face, letting out little groans as he harshly snaps his hips against you.

once he looks down and sees your pretty eyes already looking up at him, it’s over.

jake deeply growls when he presses your face flat against his pelvis, cock shoved deeply down your throat as he pumps out his hot load, forcing you to swallow it all. (not that you wouldn’t have anyway.)

jake pulls you off of him with a wet pop, trying to it to ogle at how you lick his cum off your lips.

tucking himself back inside his pants, you look for your own clothes as jake finds a towel to wipe his hands and face off with, before tossing it in a nearby hamper.

“um,” jake starts, biting his lip as an awkward air takes over between you. “i am actually sorry, about…whatever i did that’s made you feel like i ruined it with heeseung for you.”

“it’s…it’s whatever. i’m sorry too, i kinda lost it.”

jake laughs softly, the sound breaking a little of the tension as he looks up to make direct eye contact. “i think we both did, but it’s okay. maybe we should just call it even?”

“sure,” you smile, combing your hair out of your face, trying to make it look like you didn’t just get eaten out and throat fucked in the locker room. (though you doubt anyone is around at this point, or at least you hope.)

“i’ll come around sometime to walk layla, just shoot me a text…and i really will answer this time.” you joke, jake taking the initiative to grab your cheer bag for you.

“sooo…do you still want me to be your tutor?”

“yeah! i do.” you answer simply, an annoying little voice in the back of your head saying that maybe chaeryeong was right, and you really did just need to fuck the frustration out of each other. even though there wasn’t actually any fucking…

“i still have something i’m wondering though,” you say as the two of you walk out of the locker room, jake letting you lead the way out of the stadium.

“what were you doing at basketball practice? on monday.”

“oh, well, normally heeseung comes with jay to our place and we game or something, after their practice. but i got off early and just decided to drop in.”

“where do you work?” you ask, looking over to jake and watching how he slightly swings your bag side to side as he walks.

“part time at the cafe, in the cafeteria…you haven’t seen me?” he asks jokingly, a faux pout on his lips.

“no.” you play along, answering ‘smugly’ as you lift your chin up, before giggling. “no, i usually have my lunch in the library.”

“oh, toooo…study?”

“i wish. if i spent that time studying i probably wouldn’t need a tutor,“ you admit with a bashful smile. “but usually i’m reading something.”

“oh! what do you like to read?”

“ah,” you whine, covering your face as you let out an embarrassed laugh. usually you’re undisturbed in the library, everyone else is typically there to study, have some alone time, or eat their lunch in a place that’s quiet. you’ve never had anyone ask you what you’re reading.

“it’s…embarrassing. i’m gonna sound boring.”

“what?” jake laughs, turning in front of you and walking backwards so he can fully look at you. “tell me, i’m dying to know now.”

“i mean, usually it’s about animal history-“

“right! biology major.” jake remembers.

“yup.” you nod. “buuut, sometimes i read biographies or like, theories.”

jake’s ears practically perk, but you don’t notice, pushing open a door before jake’s back can run into it.

“oh, thanks.” he says before returning to your side after the close call, deciding he’d rather not possibly fall right in front of you with your heavy cheer bag to land on top of him. “theories? what- what kind of theories?”

“right now i’m reading einstein’s.”

jake looks over to you with widened eyes, surprised because he’s never met anyone else that actually has an interest in stuff like that. he’s tried to rant to jay or heeseung about that kind of stuff, be he can tell they’re just replying on auto pilot, not really listening.

jake wonders how far you’ve read, what all you know. he’s practically tingling with excitement, about to ask you if you know about the team of scientists that disproved one of einstein’s theories when-

“well, i’m gonna get back to my dorm now,”you say just as you reach the campus sidewalk, street lamps lighting the path as dusk turns to darkness.

“i can walk you? it’s pretty late.” jake offers, already moving as though to go with you.

you feel your heart stop, a feeling you can only describe as ‘oh no’ burning a hole into the pit of your stomach.

“jake…earlier…it was just casual, yknow…”

jake stares at you, eyes round and capturing the lights in his dark pupils like stars in the sky. he stills, free hand going inside his pocket while the other still holds your bag.

“not that i’m assuming anything!” you hurry to add. “just thought i’d…clarify.”

“yeah…yeah, i know. i just- i just didn’t think it’d be a big deal to walk you home.”

“it’s not a big deal. that’s why i can do it myself.” you explain as nonchalantly as you can, but on the inside you feel like there’s needles pricking your skin, hairs all standing on end. you’re dying to be out of this situation, anxiety making you feel like prey, wanting to run, run, run.

“right! yeah, of course!”

you smile smoothly, leaning in to take your bag from his hand.

“i’ll see you at our next session, okay?”

“okay.” jake smiles softly, but you don’t look for too long, turning your back too soon, listening to the voice yelling in your head to leave.

you hear jake’s voice behind you as you walk down the paved path, his voice slightly carrying into the night.

“stay safe, pom-poms!”

you laugh, little and quiet to yourself as you whisper.

“jerk.”

(❤︎)

for the next week you’re busier than ever: tutor sessions, cheer practice, competition days, your usual studies and classes, taking layla on walks every now and then when jake is at work.

and yet, you’re thriving.

jake’s ‘hard work on you’— as he put it, is paying off.

you’re at your usual spot that you and jake have your sessions, his house.

the clock strikes 10 pm when you finally call it quits. layla (who’s been switching between sitting on your and jake’s feet from underneath the table) jumps up the second she hears the slam of your notebook and jake getting up to put away his study material.

“what is it, girl?” you laugh, watching the golden furred dog do an excited little wiggle dance in front of you.

she looks from you, to the front door, and back at you again.

“jake, i think she wants to go outside.”

uh-oh. you said her buzzword.

at the mention of ‘outside’, layla becomes twice as restless, whining and pawing at the front door with her claws.

“layla, no,” jake stops her, pulling her away from the door before she can scratch the wood.

“are you gonna take her?” you ask, jake turning his head to you as he continues to pat and scratch layla’s back, trying to sedate her.

“maybe just for a little bit, once you go home.”

“…i’ll go with you.” you offer, jake’s brows raising slightly in surprise.

“you don’t have to, y/n. i know we have a ‘deal’ but i don’t actually care if you-“

“i want to.” you shrug.

“you do?”

“yeah?”

“aren’t you tired?” jake asks, standing up and tilting his head at you.

you tilt yours back at him, a teasing smirk on your face. “i’m not. are you?”

jake takes one look at your smirk and falls into your trap, so easily persuaded by even the notion of a challenge. grabbing layla’s leash out of a nearby drawer in the kitchen, he hooks it onto layla’s collar and puts on his slides.

“lets go.” he smiles, you laughing at how his accent really pops out when he says the word ‘go’.

“what’s so funny?” he giggles with you despite not knowing why, watching as you hurriedly slip the shoes closest to you— which happen to be jake’s crocs that he never wears. they’re way too big, you putting them in ‘sport mode’ to try and combat the obvious size issue.

it doesn’t work. but despite that, they stay on.

“you look like a garden gnome,” jake laughs, letting you playfully slap him on the shoulder and watching how you bolt out the door a second later with a screech, like a kid playing tag.

“don’t run in them!! poms, you’re going to fall!” he yells, quickly grabbing a coat off the hook for you in case you get cold before he and layla hurry out the door and after you.

you walk around for about 15 minutes, eventually coming upon a gas station.

“…you hungry?”

you end up being the one to go inside the gas station while jake stays outside with layla, since dogs aren’t allowed in. he watches you closely the entire time though, staring at you while he stands right at the glass door entrance.

“i’m a big girl, you know.” you laugh once you walk back out, jake holding the door open for you. “im not gonna die if you’re not there to watch me.”

“i know, but gas stations at night just kinda freak me out.” jake whines, taking the plastic bag from your hands while you hold the two cups of hot ramen. you go and sit at a nearby bench that’s right beneath a window, the glow of the gas station’s light’s shining a light on the area around you.

“did you make it how i told you?” jake sing-songs as he ties layla’s leash to the bench’s leg, the dog taking the time to enjoy the break as she lays by his feet obediently.

“yes, i followed your obscenely specific instructions down to the very detail to make you the perfect ramen, jake.” you roll your eyes in faux annoyance, handing the cup of ramen to him, as well as a plastic fork.

“thank you.” he smiles coyly, taking the container from you.

“you’re welcome, princess.” you sigh jokingly.

you take a few bites of your ramen before speaking up again, as jake seems completely content to wordlessly munch on his food.

“so what are you and the boy’s gonna do this weekend?”

“mmm,” jake hums, swallowing before continuing. “i think we’re going over to felix’s.”

“oh.” you reply, picking up your drink to take a sip a second later.

even though it was chill when you last saw felix, you still feel a little awkward when his name comes up…or maybe it’s guilt you’re feeling.

“what’s up with that?” jake asks, looking at how your body language has changed to uncomfortable.

“what’s up with what?”

“…all of it, i guess.” jake specifies, and he sounds serious. like he really wants to know your history with felix.

you exhale and hope it doesn’t sound shaky, giving yourself a moment to take another bite of your food as you gather your thoughts. usually you might say ‘i don’t want to talk about it’ or ‘i don’t know’, but after hearing what jake said that first time you were over at your house…you want him to hear your side. even though your side doesn’t really excuse what you did.

“we…i liked him, freshman year. and he didn’t at first, but then he came around and eventually asked me out. and…he was honestly really great, he was a wonderful partner and i…really, really liked him.”

“so then…why? why’d you…”

“drop him?” you finish jake’s trailed of sentence for him.

he nods.

“i just…” you pause, looking down at your shoes and twisting the soles of them into the concrete. your heart wanes in realization that you’re about to talk about it. “sometimes i get really scared when- someone…cares about me? i don’t know. i don’t know how to describe it.”

“why does someone caring for you scare you?”

“i’m not sure. feeling…pressure? to be perfect, to keep them from leaving? or…scared of having someone that i care for so much, because…that means they could really hurt me.”

“when did that start?” jake asks softly, voice free of judgement, even pity— you think. just a gentle desire to understand.

“oh, i don’t know.” you laugh, though there’s no real humor behind it. you look down at layla and the way the light hits her fur, turning the tips a flaming gold. “parent stuff, friend stuff…i had a really shitty ex in high school.”

jake barks out a short laugh. “same, i think it’s a part of the teenage experience.”

“trauma builds character.” you say matter-of-factly, jake giggling as you can’t help but join him.

“i am sorry though, about what happened to you and that it’s made you feel this way. you didn’t deserve that.”

you bite your lip, staring at each other as your stomach twists from the soft timber of his voice and the gentleness of his words.

you look away.

“i know what i did to him was wrong. it doesn’t excuse it….”

“…no.” jake confirms. “but it does make sense. and it’s good that you know what the problem is now.”

“yeah,” you agree with a small smile, heart still heavy, but at the same time you do feel a bit better after talking about it.

“and i have gotten better. i still get scared, and sometimes i have unconscious bad habits, but i’ve gotten better at…telling my brain to shut up, when i realize.” you struggle to explain, but jake nods his head like he gets it.

your arms shiver slightly, from the cool night air or the adrenaline rush after voicing your feelings— you’re not sure.

jake unties the jacket from around his waist and lays it over your shoulders, but your goosebumps remain.

(❤︎)

as you walk into physics class you take a small glance at jake, offering a quick smile as you pass by him at his usual spot in front row before you go and sit down towards the middle.

there’s already someone sitting to your right, so you’re about to sit your bag on the left seat for chae (who’s apparently running late) when jake abruptly appears and takes the spot.

you’re staring at him with a confused ‘what the fuck’ face as he finishes opening his backpack and placing his things down, putting on his glasses so he can see the professor and their material from far away before turning to smile at you.

“hi,” he whispers.

you try to change your expression to a more casual one, seeing that he for some reason decided to change his usual seating arrangements to sit next to you, and that seems to be his only prerogative.

“hey…” you whisper back, turning to face the front after.

the professor begins the class, but you can’t focus. jake keeps trying to help you, leaning close to add on to what the professor is saying, then he notices the eraser on your pencil is almost gone and gives you a new one. but worst of all, when you tilt your head to write something down, hair cascading like a curtain over your face, jake gently moves to tuck your hair behind your ear, smiling sweetly at you when you glance at him.

you’re not confused anymore. you think you know exactly what’s going on and you’re…you don’t know what to do. everything suddenly feels like it’s spiraling into a mess and you desperately want to feel like you’re in control of it again.

so you cross your legs and lean in jake’s direction, taking it slow and simply brushing up against his pant leg.

jake’s eyes look down but quickly move back up to the front of the class, maybe assuming it’s on accident, though his expression does look slightly frazzled.

you want to mess him up more.

thankful for the table that’s about to cover your sins, you place your hand right above jake’s knee.

he fully acknowledges you now, snapping his head to give you a confused look, trying and failing to hide how flustered he is thanks to his blushing ears.

you tilt your head to indicate confusion, your ‘innocent’ act not fooling him at all as you creep your hand farther up his leg, to the meatier part of his thigh. the higher you go, the pinker his cheeks grow, looking more and more adorable.

you feel like a predator that’s caught her prey when you squeeze and his body jerks, hair falling into his eyes before he shakes it away and adjusts his glasses.

you feel like your pupils dilate at the action, watching jake sitting there and not even telling you to stop, letting you touch him in class where anyone could catch you. he’s dressed like the smart boy he is today, his polo shirt and kaki pants paired with oval framed glasses almost giving a nerdy virgin vibe. it makes you really wet, especially since you’re so close to his cock, which you never got to touch with your hands.

a bulge is starting to grow in his pants and you let your fingers barely graze over it as you start massaging his thigh.

“y-y/n?” he speaks so softly you would miss it if it weren’t for how close you sit together.

“hm?”

you glance up at him casually, like you’re fingers aren’t narrowly avoiding his cock right now, and it’s driving him crazy.

it’s making him desperate.

you’re in the middle of class and yet he’s dying for you to just touch his dick already.

he’s debating between if he should ask or not when you finally put your whole hand over his bulge. he stops a whine from bubbling up his throat as your touch is still feather light, not even giving him the grace of more pressure. pushing his hips up into your palm, you pull away, bringing your hands back into your lap and attention back on the professor.

“what? b- baby-“

“what, nerd?” you say with a little bite, and the name has jake twitching in his pants.

“pl- please? can you keep…touching me?”

“we’re in class, jake.” you say, pretending to be mildly annoyed, as if you weren’t the one who started all this.

a tiny noise escapes from jake’s throat, squeezing his eyes shut as he clenches his thighs, trying to relieve the pulsing of his own dick as blood rushes down south.

“jake!” you scold with a harsh whisper, genuinely surprised by how shameless he’s getting.

“please, y/n.” he struggles out, voice whiney. “i need you.”

your breath turns shakey, the facade of being unaffected crumbling as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on. granting him mercy, you bring your hand back down to fully grope his bulge, eyes growing wide as you’re reminded of how big he is.

“fuck.” you sigh, jake giving a twitchy thrust at your voice.

“dirty boy.” is all you say before facing the class again, really trying not to get caught now as your touches turn into you basically jacking him off over his pants.

jake humps into your hand as subtly as he can, almost missing how the professor’s asking him a question if it weren’t for how you pinch his thigh to break him out of it.

“w-what?” jake asks, sounding far from intelligent.

“i said, what is the speed of darkness, mr. sim.”

“oh- um,”

your hand goes right back to jacking him off, stopping at the tip of his dick to massage over it. jake swallows down a cry.

“i expected this to be easy, especially for you, mr. sim.”

“it- it has none.” he croaks out, voice almost raising in his efforts to avoid his building orgasm, the panic almost making him reach that point faster. “darkness is the absence of light, so it doesn’t h- have any speed.”

“correct! dark is simply the absence of photons which means-“

“i’m gonna cum.” jake says as quietly as possible, leaning back in his chair and pushing his face into the side of your arm, hiding his face. “y/n, m’gonna!”

you stop your hand and push him off of you, sitting up straighter as you whisper “after class”, leaving jake trembling in his chair, panting under his breath and too desperate to argue.

it feels like an eternity has passed when class ends, you getting up immediately and jake rushing to follow you. you lead him out into the hallway, hurrying up and opening a closet door before the crowds of other students fill the halls. jake practically moans when you grab him by the shirt and shove him inside, shutting the door behind you. it’s dark as you feel for the light switch, unable to find it.

“fuck, where’s the lights?”

you hear a click and the small closet is dimly illuminated, jake standing right in front of you with wide, shiny eyes, holding a string that’s connected to the one lightbulb that lights the space, which you now can see is a janitor’s closet.

“oh, thank you.” you say normally, like your panties aren’t soaking wet, before pushing him against the wall, almost knocking over a mop bucket as you intensely make out with jake.

the boy lets you swallow down his long moan of relief, needy hands grasping at your hips and already trying to rut against your leg.

“you really that desperate? can’t help but hump your big cock against me?”

jake whimpers, looking at you with big, pretty brown eyes as he wordlessly begs you.

“maybe you aren’t that smart of a nerd. can’t even talk? does your dick getting some attention make you that dumb?”

“yes! yes, yes, m’ so dumb. so stupid for you. please make me cum? it hurts, baby, please?”

“fuck me.” you order. “then you can cum.”

jake takes a second to process your words before he’s stripping himself bare.

“can- can you take off everything, please? wanna feel all of you.” he asks adorably, and you grant him his wish, albeit— you have to tease him. you peel off your clothes so slowly, jake watching every inch of your skin being revealed like he’s never seen a woman’s body before, hands clenching at his sides with the need to touch you.

“please, please, please.” he chants under his breath, almost to himself unconsciously.

“c’mere, jakey.” you coo, him hugging himself up to you a millisecond later.

he’s whimpering and slobbering into your neck as he attempts to give you kisses in his messy state of mind. you start to giggle until his cock catches at the entrance of your pussy and causes you to let out a whine, jake getting more excited (if it’s possible) after feeling how wet you are for him.

“y/n, please.” he blubbers, resting his forehead against yours.

“you can go inside, baby. fuck me, touch me. i don’t care anymore, just give me your cock.”

jake slowly pushes himself inside, the both of you moaning in relief before jake starts fucking into you slowly.

his face is sweating, glasses sliding down his nose bridge as he tries to give you time to adjust fully to his length. you’re so tight, looking so pretty while your eyes are squeezed shut, head leaning back against the wall as you’re stretched out around his dick. jake peppers little kisses all over the exposed expanse of your neck, you letting out happy little noises at his careful care and the feeling of him inside you.

“you okay, babygirl?”

“yeah, jakey. you can go deeper.”

slowly, jake pushes in as far as he can go, hips flush against yours. his cock is long, reaching places that haven’t been reached in a long time, but still…

“no,” you tremble, knowing it can be even better. “hold on.”

pushing his chest off of you a little to give more space, you lift your right leg and hook it around his shoulder, your other still firmly on the ground.

“okay, keep going.” you almost beg, desperate to be fucked into the wall.

“holy shit…” jake marvels, thrusting as deeply into you as he possibly can go, the new angle making his tip press into your cervix.

“oh my god!” he almost growls as his control slips from his grasp, hips gaining speed as he starts to pound into you. the rough quality of his previously sweet tone has you clenching, making him lose it even more. “you’re so fucking flexible.”

“m- m’a cheerleader.” is all you can manage to get out and explain when jake is fucking you so hard, making you feel so good. the slapping noises of jake’s thrusts and your wet pussy isn’t quiet, but you’re too cock drunk to worry about it, and jake is too lost in the way your needy cunt takes him so well.

“damn right, you are, baby.”

forcing your eyes to focus an jake’s intense gaze as he watches every one of your minute expressions, you see how his glasses rest lop sided on his face, releasing the grip you have on jake’s strong shoulders to fix them.

there’s a shift in jake’s eyes after you do this, and you’re beginning to feel as though he’s looking right through your skin and into your soul. then jake’s big hands wrap tightly around your back, stretching your leg further as you’re pressed flush against him and the wall. his rhythm turns erratic as your moans get louder, the hot air in the small space too thick for you to catch your breath.

“sweet girl, with an even sweeter little cunt, yeah?” he drawls, accent turning thicker as he licks into your mouth and presses sloppy kisses onto your lips in between words. “taking my cock like a champ, baby. taking me like a good girl.”

“please, jake. need to cum.” you cry weakly, looking up at him with glassy eyes.

“cum for me, sweetheart. make me all messy.”

you obey his words with a muffled cry as he cradles your head into his neck, trying to make sure no one hears your sounds of pleasure.

he tries his best to hold on long enough to fuck you through your high before he pulls out, fisting his own cock.

you don’t want to miss it, falling on your weak knees and opening your mouth to stick out your tongue, looking up at him and begging with your eyes for him to give it to you.

jake can’t even speak as his hands moves in a blur, the only cognitive thought in his mind how pretty you look kneeling for him, begging for his cum, before he’s unloading into your mouth.

you take it all, swallowing and leaning forward to suck on his tip like a lollipop after, licking him clean.

once jake is able to get himself together and your legs feel a little less like jello, who helps you stand and get dressed.

you laugh once you’re both fully clothed, watching jake clean his glasses lens with his shirt.

“what?” jake smiles tiredly, straightening his polo. “do i look normal?” and like we didn’t just fuck in the janitor’s closet?

“no,” you giggle, shaking your head as you reach up to comb through his very tousled hair. “okay, that’s better.”

“thank you.” jake smiles tenderly, making that funny feeling in your stomach present again before he presses a quick kiss to your lips. “i’ll text you, baby.”

“o-….okay…” you mumble, jake giggling as he thinks your dazed look is just because you’re still a little fucked dumb.

“you want me to slip out first?”

“um, yeah.” you answer, watching jake peek out the door before flashing you one more sweet smile before he’s out, shutting the door behind him.

you don’t know what you’re going to do.

(❤︎)

“dude, just ask her out already.” jay says as he lays down to spread out on jake’s bed like a star fish.

“i am!” jake insists, accepting that he’s probably not going to get anymore studying done when jay’s in his bedroom yapping away. shutting his laptop, jake swivels his desk chair around and quirks a brow at how jay lays on his bed like he owns it.

“then do it! what are you waiting for?”

“i just don’t want to overwhelm her, i think if i move too fast it’ll scare her. but…i think I’m gonna ask her tonight.”

jay sits up on his elbows. “you’re inviting her?” he asks, referring to the game night the boys were planning to have with heeseung at their place.

“yeah. i’ve already asked her, she says she can come after some cheer event she’s doing today.”

“wow…” jay sighs, now looking a little surprised as he processes.

“what?”

“i can’t believe you got a cheerleader girlfriend before me or heeseung.”

jake starts to be offended before he smirks, standing up from his chair and combing his hair out of his face.

“that’s because i’m sexy and smart. now take the L and help me clean up before she gets here.”

(❤︎)

it’s 8:00 pm when you finally get to jake and jay’s house, jake waiting for you by the door.

“hi, how was the event?”

“it was good. they had us outside all day but the weather wasn’t too warm.”

“good!” jake smiles as he opens the door for you and leads you to the living room. “ready to beat these guys in a game with me?”

“i really suck at video games, jake.” you laugh just as you walk into the room, seeing jay and heeseung sitting at the sofa.

jake sees heeseung’s eyes light up when he sees you, and jake feels a bit annoyed— then guilty. heeseung doesn’t know about you and jake, the australian not having time to tell him about your ‘thing’ before you showed up.

“hey, y/n! come sit.” jay invites.

you move to sit down on the couch, the only space available being next to heeseung. jake sits against your legs, his cuddly nature making you blush and feel a little self conscious while in front of everyone else, moving your legs to criss-cross them on the cushion instead.

something about being at their house with heeseung over again, in this room, makes you think about what you’ve been trying not to this entire time: what jake said.

do they all think you’re a player?

do they know about you and jake’s hookups?

if the answer is yes, then they probably also think you’re just with jake to get in his pants, to chew him up and spit him out.

but what do you really want?…and what…what does jake want?

you’ve felt off since the classroom incident, and you thought maybe hanging out casually would make you feel better, but it seems to only be making it worse.

“y/n?”

heeseung concerned voice snaps you out of your head and you look at him. he’s holding out a gaming controller for you, and you take it, the object feeling a bit big in your hands.

“here,” jake offers gently, turning around from his place on the floor as he positions your hands over the controller. “it’ll probably be easier for you to hold it like this.”

“thanks.” you say unconsciously soft, probably because of the proximity between you and jake’s faces.

he smiles that cute smile at you again, the one that makes his eyes sparkle, and you feel legitimately sick.

“do you want me to explain the game to you?” heeseung offers.

“i can,” jake starts to interrupt, but you stop him as you gesture for him to sit back down.

“it’s fine, jake. hee’s right here.”

you hope the excuse of heeseung sitting right next to you is a good enough excuse for why you don’t want jake coddling over you. you just…you can’t think clearly with him near right now.

once you start the multi player game and you go for a few rounds, heeseung starts getting kinda touchy with you. first letting his thighs touch yours, which is probably unconscious. the sofa is rather squishy and deep, it’s easy to sink into it— and thus, you. but then he starts smiling at you a lot and praising you whenever you do something right. you try not to encourage heeseung’s treatment while also ignoring how jake keeps turning to take peeks at you together.

very unexpectedly, you find a few advantage items and end up winning a round, heeseung throwing up his arms in excitement while jay loudly cheers.

“that was awesome, y/n!” heeseung says before wrapping you in an unexpected hug. you smile proudly at yourself, returning his quick hug.

“y/n and i will go get some drinks.” jake abruptly announces in a low tone before grabbing your arm and pulling you away from heeseung.

“jake. jake! why are you pulling me?” you say as he continues down the hall, not looking or speaking to you until you get to the kitchen.

“what was that?” he asks demandingly after spinning around to face you, eyes hard and looking at you angrily.

“what was what?”

“you and heeseung!”

“there is no me and heeseung, jake.” you sigh, rubbing your temples as you feel a headache coming on. this whole evening has honestly been nothing but stressful, and you’re starting to regret coming.

“well it sure looked like you were a thing…i thought we…”

he trails off and your heart full on stops, eyes wide as you stare at jake.

“you thought…what?” you ask, scared out of your mind.

“i like you.” jake says softly, looking up from the floor to gaze at you with hopeful eyes. “and i think…i think you like me too, right?”

you take a few deep breaths, brows furrowing as panic and fear take over the rational part of your brain.

“you sure you want to like the ‘typical dumb cheerleader’?” you air quote, jake’s face falling as your eyes already start to sting.

“oh my god, you heard that? baby, i’m so, so sorry. i-…i don’t think that now, i was being an asshole.”

despite how hard you try to keep them at bay, to blink them back, to keep the angry facade up— you can’t. your walls finally crumble down as you cry into your hands, letting the ache that’s been slowly growing in your heart over these past few weeks take over your whole chest.

“you- you don’t still think i’m a h- heartbr- break-“

you can’t even get a full sentence out between your crying and gasps of air, jake coming closer with open arms to wrap you in a hug, to squeeze you against his warm chest.

“no, no, no. sweet girl, oh my god.” he says almost like it’s to himself, before he’s culling your damp cheeks.

“c’mon, baby. look at me?” he coos sadly, and you do, putting aside your shame and lifting your face, watching his regretful eyes flit over your teary orbs and broken expression.

“i am so sorry that the harsh, untruthful words i said hurt you so badly, and i’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to apologize. i was legitimately an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. i had you pinned down in my head of who i thought you were and i treated you differently because of it, when i didn’t even bother getting to know you. and i’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

jake tries to wipe away the tears that slip down your cheeks as you try to calm down, still hurt but feeling better after his words.

“you- you don’t think i’m a bad person? because- because i honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did.” you dare to ask.

“no!” jake states firmly. “no, baby. you’re not and i don’t think that. i think you’re kind and generous. hardworking and smart. beautiful and funny and so, so easy to fall for.”

“jake…” you whisper, cheeks burning as you attempt to hide you face in his chest. but jake doesn’t let you, cupping your jaw in his palms as he nuzzles his nose against yours.

“do you like me, poms?” he whispers nervously, breath fanning over your lips as you feel like you’re about to drown from the depth of emotions he manages to hold in his eyes.

“i…i do, jake. i really, really like you.”

jake smiles, teeth biting at his bottom lip to try and contain it.

“but,” you’re quick to say when jake starts to lean in, halting his actions. “i…i need time…to think. i…”

“it’s okay, y/n. you don’t have to explain it to me. i’ll wait for you.” jake whispers, staring forlornly at your lips, but not moving. “even if you tell me not to, i’d still wait for you.”

your heart skips a beat and you pull away, afraid you’ll lose your resolve and dive into his kiss if you don’t.

“okay. i’ll…i’ll see you, jake.”

“see you, y/n.” jake smiles, but despite trying his best, it doesn’t make it to his eyes. you walk out of the kitchen before fleeing from his house, speeding to your dorm and collapsing onto your bed and bursting into sobs.

(❤︎)

3 days.

3 days, going on four, since you’ve spoken to jake. you know he’s trying really hard not to overwhelm you, to resist coming over and talking to you, but you still catch staring at you in class when he thinks you don’t notice.

you do.

you notice him, always.

you want to go to him, you miss him so much. but it’s feels like there’s chains of fear wrapped around your heart, weighing you down and tugging you away from him.

you’re walking across campus in the afternoon to go back to your dorm, feeling like a zombie like you have been since you last spoke to jake.

you run into something with stops your lazy, slow steps, looking up to see felix staring wide at you.

“oh, y/n! hey!”

“h-hi! sorry, lix.” you apologize for running into him, trying to sound at least half as chipper as him.

“that’s alright. so, jay told me about you and jake,” he implores in a teasing way, nudging your arm with his elbow as he smiles. “how’s that going?”

it takes you a few seconds to feel the pain in your heart at simply hearing his name before you start crying, felix almost flinching back in surprise as you try to wipe your tears away as quickly as they come.

“i’m- i’m so sorry, felix. i’m a mess right now.”

“hey, hey, it’s okay, y/n. why don’t we sit down and you can tell me about it.”

felix wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder and leads you to sit down at a nearby bench. taking a gentle hold of your hand, he encourages you to tell him what happened.

and you do, you tell him everything. from the very beginning to the very end.

“i just- i don’t know what to do, felix. i like him so much it scares me. i’ve never let- let somebody get this close to me this fast before.” you sniffle. “and i just- i can’t stop thinking about how much it would hurt this time, because- because i think if i let myself be with him, i’ll never want to leave.”

“oh, y/n.” felix sighs, pulling you in for a hug. “don’t you see? jake is an amazing guy, and you like him. which isn’t a reason to leave, it’s a reason to stay, to keep going and not give up. don’t you get it?”

he asks, looking you in the eyes as you feel his words click something into place in your brain. it isn’t a reason to leave, it’s why you should stay.

“don’t give him up, y/n.” felix urges softly. your heart squeezes with undeniable fondness, reaching forward to wrap the boy in a tight hug of your own.

“you’re right. thank you, felix.”

“it’s okay, y/n. go get your man.” he smiles genuinely.

“and felix?” you begin as you pull away to look him in the eyes.

“yeah?”

“i’m sorry, lixie.” you apologize, and he knows what for.

“i know, y/n.” felix’s voice wavers at the unexpected sentiment, but his sunshine disposition still remains. “i’m happy now. we’re okay. all is forgiven.”

you know it’s not a good enough apology despite his words, but you’ll find another time to properly say sorry, to give him the apology he deserves. but for now, you give him one more tight squeeze before running off to find jake.

he’s not working at the cafe today, all his classes are usually over by now and there’s no basketball practice for him to tag along to, so the only other place you can think to go look is his house.

when you messily park in the driveway and knock at the door, it’s a bewildered jay that answers.

“oh, y/n! he’s- jake’s walking layla right now.”

“do you know which direction he went?”

jay points and you take off down his neighborhood sidewalk, jay watching you disappear around a corner with his jaw slightly open in confusion, finger still raised, before he shrugs his shoulders and goes back inside with a mumbled little ‘whatever’ to himself.

your running turned to jogging, and now you’re sluggishly walking, your exhaustion and the sight of the sun setting making you lose hope as you stare down at your own feet that lazily step on the pavement.

what if jake doesn’t even want you anymore? did you already mess it up?

an echoed voice carries down the street and you lift your head, the tone of it sounding familiar. turning the corner one more time, your heart feels like it’s been brought back to life when you see jake and layla in the distance.

jake crouches in front of layla, the dog looking bored and tiredly panting as he raises his hand to scratch behind her ears, giving her a sad little smile.

“sorry, girl…i know. i miss her too.”

something tugs you forward, those heavy chains that were previously around your heart broken and unable to hold you back anymore.

“jake!” you call, jake looking up to your approaching figure.

“y/n?”

your slow steps turn to running when jake opens his arms, practically catching you with how you leap into his embrace.

“y/n?” he repeats, looking deep into your eyes like he can’t believe he’s feeling your smaller body in his arms right now, seeing you so up close again.

you wrap your arms around his neck and crash your lips into his, jake immediately kissing you back with just as much fever. your tongues lick into each other’s mouth like you haven’t tasted the other in ages, jake raising a hand to cup your cheek and press you impossible closer.

“jake,” you gasp in air after fighting to part from jake’s eager lips.

“sweetheart.” jake practically coos, eyes half-lidded and sounding love drunk as he spares you only a moment before he’s kissing you again.

“jake!” you pull away again, your attempt to sound scolding failing due to your little giggles that give your true emotions away. but how can you not when jake’s ticklish butterfly kisses are being peppered across your neck.

“let me talk!”

“hurry.” jake whines, pressing to more pecks to your lips.

“i- i wanna stay! i want to be with you.”

“i wanna be with you too, babygirl.” jake whispers fondly, staring into your eyes and how they capture the sunset’s shining rays. it’s the prettiest sunset he’s ever seen, viewing it in this way. “does this mean you’ll be mine?”

“i think i’ve been yours for a while already, jakey.”

jake’s like a kid at a candy store with your lips right in front of him. you’re unable to enjoy his absolutely gorgeous smile from your words for more than a second before his lips are attached to yours again, capturing you in another passionate kiss.

you whine into it, pushing at his chest much to jake’s displeasure.

“but i’m probably still gonna get scared sometimes.”

“i know, baby.”

a kiss.

“and- and i’m good at communicating but-“

another.

“sometimes i need encouragement.”

“i can do that, sweetheart.” he promises with another deep kiss. you push him away again.

“but, jake?”

he smiles with a defeated groan, leaning his head onto your shoulder before he looks at you.

“yeah, sweetie?”

“what if i…did try? to run away again.” you ask, not because you think you will, but because you want to know his answer.

he answers easily, like it’s a no brainer for him.

“then i’d chase after you every time.”

“…promise?”

“i promise.”

(❤︎)

jake doesn’t even take layla’s leash off when you bust through the front door, barely taking the time to shut it behind him before he’s picking you up, giggling at your adorable squeal and how your legs wrap around his waist without thinking.

you don’t even stop kissing as he blindly carries and maneuvers you around the house, feeling for his bedroom door knob with his one hand and opening it successfully.

he walks forward until he feels the frame of his bed against his shins and sets you down gently, finally detaching from your lips to gaze at you and how gorgeous you look laying in his bed, staring up at him with so much cb affection in your eyes that it has his cock twitching.

“what?” you smile, feeling a little squirmy under his gaze, but you remain still.

“nothing…you’re just so beautiful.”

your cheeks burn, biting at your smile as you move to take off your clothes. jake rushes to do the same, though it takes him a little longer as he has to stop every few moments to watch you strip.

you rub your thighs together with a moan as you see jake’s throbbing length, it’s pretty pink tip shining with his excitement.

“oh my god, baby. i don’t wanna go a day without you ever again. seeing you, talking to you, kissing you, fucking you. shit, m’gonna make you take my cock every day from now on.”

“please, jake, just put it in.” you whine, spreading open your legs and causing jake’s eyes to almost pop out of his skull.

“damn, baby.” he marvels, kneeling up on the bed as he comes closer to you, caressing his hands up and down your thighs as he stares at your pussy.

“jaaake, fuck me!”

“be patient, babygirl.” he warns with a small yet stinging slap to your thigh. “i will. but i gotta taste you first.”

he makes a spot for himself between your legs, laying on his belly before spreading open your pussy with his two, long fingers. clear slick webs between, jake shuddering out a heated ‘fuck’ before going in to lick it up with his tongue.

“oh god,” you whimper, raising your hands to your face, embarrassed by how wet you already are and how jake’s slurping every bit of it into his mouth.

“mmm,” jake hums disapprovingly, departing from your pussy only for a moment. “dont don’t do that. wanna watch my baby’s face while i eat her out.”

then jake goes back down to slowly push his tongue inside your entrance, your thighs twitching with the unexpected intrusion.

“j-jake!” you cry as he falls into a rhythm, rubbing your sopping clit while he fucks you with his tongue, big brown eyes staring you down as you find yourself unable to look away.

“o- oh, ffuck!”

your hands grip up the sheets into a fist, toes curling as jake’s incessant licking into your cunt and the perfect little circles he rubs into your clit makes you come more and more undone.

jake groans in pleasure at your own, the sound sending vibrations straight to your core and causing your entire body to flinch as you cry out.

“i- i think m’gonna cum already if you don’t stop, jake.” you whine, voice high pitched and unlike yourself.

the boy doesn’t stop. in fact, he goes deeper, curling the tip of his tongue into the spongy part of you.

you cum with a cry, legs trembling and squeezing around jake’s head as he happily cleans you up with his mouth.

“mmm, such a messy cunt, baby. taste so good.” jake sighs as he repositions to hover over you body, one hand stroking over his dick as he spreads your left over juices from his fingers across it.

he reaches across to his night stand, you presume to get out a condom.

“don’t. want- want you to fuck me raw, please? m’on the pill.”

“…holy shit.” jake murmurs, wide eyed.

he leans on his elbows, dipping closer to your face as you watch how his eyes roam over your every feature, taking in your beauty in the same way as you’re taking in his right now.

“my pretty girl, my good girl...” he gives you that smile that used to make you sick, but now it has butterflies in your stomach and your pussy clenching.

“mine.” jake whispers proudly, rubbing his nose against yours as he pushes inside of you slowly.

“how-“ you struggle, interrupted by your and jake’s moans as his dick is sucked in by your greedy cunt. “how do you talk so sweet when- when you’re doing bad things?”

jake just responds with an out of breath chuckle, bracing himself with a hand to your hip, groping and squeezing at your soft flesh.

as he starts thrusting into you, deep and slow, you feel like all the air has been knocked out of you.

you don’t know why, maybe it’s the angle or how he’s looking at you, maybe it’s because you just came or the emotional high of being reunited. all you know is that it only takes a few minutes for you to be trembling and whimpering into jake’s sheets as he fucks you dumb.

jake’s latched onto your tits— of course, moaning and whining as he slobbers all over your chest like your nipples taste like candy. and they might as well be, because to jake they’re that good.

“mmm, jakey, please. please. m’so close.”

jake is no better off than you, sweat glistening on his skin and his hips start to erratically buck into yours, his pants and your whimpers filling his bedroom.

“yeah, baby? my cock make you feel good?”

“y- yes!”

“y’gonna let me have this cunt every day, sweetheart? take my cum every day?”

“yes, baby, yes!” you either against the sheets, twisting your head to the side from the overwhelming pleasure as you try to hold back your oncoming orgasm, waiting for his permission. “gotta cum, jakey.”

“no, no, sweetie. gotta look at me first, babygirl.” he gently orders in a way that makes your stomach flip, holding your chin between his thumb and fingers before turning your head back to look at him. he brushes your hair out of your face, greeted with your glossy eyes and pouty lips, begging for him to have mercy.

“there she is. there’s my little girl.” he trembles out, biting his bottom lip and forcing his eyes to stay open and look at you, even as the pleasure gets too much. “look so cute while you’re falling apart on my cock.”

“pl-please…jake! need- need’ta-“

“let go, sweetheart. cum with me, baby.”

jake seals your lips with a kiss to suppress the cry you let out as you reach your highs together, trembling bodies holding out for as long as you can to ride out your orgasm.

jake collapses on the bed and cuddles you into his chest, hands brushing through your hair and making sure none of it is in your face.

jake’s phone dings with a text, and he leans over to pick it up. you watch his pretty, brown eyes as he reads the screen, before his lips quirk up in a smirk.

“what?” you ask.

“jay…he‘a asking if we’re done fucking yet.”

“oh my god!” you whine with embarrassment, burying your face into jake’s chest even further as he giggles.

“it’s okay. he said he figured he should put on some noise canceling headphones and make himself scarce when you came by looking for me.”

“still embarrassing…” you mumble, jake cupping your face to lift your head up and press a kiss to your forehead, then your lips.

“m’so glad you found me.” he confesses softly. you smile.

“i think we found each other.”

“mmm,” jake hums, resting his forehead against yours, looking at you like he can’t get enough of you. you’re sure you look the same.

“never gonna be able to go without my dumb little cheerleader girlfriend again.” he smiles teasingly, referencing to his previous harsh words he said about you.

it’s so funny how things can change when you really get to know someone. when you give them a chance.

“and i’m never gonna be able to go without my nerdy little boyfriend again.”

“hey,” he laughs, no real feelings other than happiness behind it. jake sits up on his elbows, caging you in to press a sweet, long kiss to your lips.

he pulls away just enough to be able to look into your eyes as he whispers.

“that was mean, pom-poms.”

you huff, shaking your head with a smile as your hands move to run through his hair, pulling him in for probably the hundredth and definitely not last kiss of the night.

“jerk.”

note) wow, you made it through! i really hope you enjoyed reading my baby 😭

i tried to make reader a lovable character with layers that some might find relatable/comforting, and that she didn’t seem like a pick me. so i hope that came across. the subject of being afraid of emotional intimacy while at the same time desperately wanting it is something that i struggle with myself. also the anxiety of letting someone see you wholly for who you are, and them still loving you. it’s horrific and scary but beautiful if you only let yourself be vulnerable enough.

the reason i ended it with reader still having anxieties and even saying ‘what if i try to run away again’. is because it’s not happily ever after once you’ve found your person, and reader’s problems aren’t going to magically go away because she ‘got the guy’. she’ll keep learning and growing and making mistakes. but the difference is she has someone in her corner who will be with her through it. hence jake saying ‘then i’ll chase after you’.

at some points i thought the dialogue might seem cheesy, but this is based in the way that i/my friends talk and conversations that i’ve had. so…take that how you want. maybe me and my circle is cheesy lol.

pleaaassseee leave a review/ask/comment- whatever. as i said this is my baby and im curious to see whatever you have to say about this work, what it made you feel or think about, and also answer any questions!! i have these characters pretty fleshed out so i’d like to think i have the answers lol.

thank you again for reading!! — jaz

[jimxnslight]

Fool's Gold || Part I

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

<< masterlist || next part >>

“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”

Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook. 

Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises. 

On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month. 

When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence. 

“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”

He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again. 

“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence. 

“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”

Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”

Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”

He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously. 

“I don’t know.”

Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again. 

“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”

“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”

“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”

“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?” 

Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”

Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him. 

“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.

“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”

Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”

Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer. 

“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.

Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”

Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery. 

At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now. 

Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love. 

Only power. 

The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white. 

You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands. 

The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle. 

To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did. 

He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too. 

He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin. 

Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head. 

A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone. 

Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him. 

Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.

As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you. 

You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month. 

The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.

Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof. 

Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there. 

Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.

To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words. 

At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be. 

Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention. 

A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 

So he tried not to be unsettled. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground. 

He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.

Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?

-

-

-

The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance. 

The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him. 

It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.

Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely. 

There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax. 

He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat. 

The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids. 

“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”

The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly. 

Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.

“Well?” He prodded. 

Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”

Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”

“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought. 

“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly. 

“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on. 

“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”

Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”

Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”

“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. 

Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding. 

It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons. 

Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two. 

“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”

The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.

“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”

Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.

“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”

To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them. 

Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”

Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information. 

“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant. 

Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful. 

A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open. 

The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead. 

Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space. 

The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you. 

You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance. 

You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well. 

“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him. 

Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her. 

“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now. 

His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed. 

Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights. 

“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee. 

Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?

“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze. 

Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other. 

But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything. 

“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well. 

You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief. 

He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”

You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne. 

He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous. 

“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”

You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak. 

Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster. 

Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side. 

It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands. 

“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?

He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later. 

“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway. 

“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment. 

He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”

But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again. 

“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”

Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you. 

You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him. 

A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer. 

His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.

His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look. 

Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.

Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud. 

“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes. 

Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink. 

“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.

But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions. 

“Jungko-”

Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold. 

“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.

Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form. 

“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest. 

“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.

 “P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air. 

Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke. 

“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout. 

Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now. 

“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.

You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression. 

He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation. 

“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more. 

“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”

Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”

You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”

Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”

But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous. 

“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability. 

“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”

The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.

“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow. 

Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.

Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”

You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.

“I want a divorce.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it. 

It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment. 

You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.

“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.

Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.

“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”

Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.

Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly. 

“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump. 

You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone. 

“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”

He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”

Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”

It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak. 

“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”

You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him. 

And that was something he needed to make sure you knew. 

“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”

Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”

“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick. 

“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”

Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation. 

It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare. 

He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.

“Good, then we’re done here.”

He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.

“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”

Jungkook tilted his head in response. 

“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”

Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”

He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.

Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony. 

Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing. 

His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze. 

What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness. 

But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce. 

Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.

You were quite the enigma.

But he was going to enjoy the challenge.  

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!

[aledmorningstar]

╰┈➤Misunderstood

Summary: How the gang finds out about Sukuna's girlfriend in a misunderstanding.

Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader

Word count: 3.0k

Note: I'm a liar, I know I said this would go up yesterday, in my defense we set very optimistic goals. Please comment and feel free to send me anything to my inbox

-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, bad english

The house of the twins Yuji and Ryomen seemed more lively than normal, as every weekend they had planned a movie afternoon, the meetings began early after leaving school, buying snacks, preparing comfortable clothes and choosing some games of table.

Yuji's face wrinkled into a displeased grimace at seeing his twin dressing casually to go out for a walk down the street, while he and his friends were already prepared wearing their comical pajamas, it wasn't fair. This time it was Yuji's turn to choose the movie so as not to let his brother get away with it.

“What are you doing?”

Sukuna turned to look for a second indifferently at his brother while he finished fastening the buttons of his dark shirt. How could he take seriously his brother who maintained an irritated pout while wearing those ridiculous tiger-themed full-body pajamas?

"I'm going out, tell mom I'll be late"

Yuji's moan of annoyance echoed throughout the house, drawing the attention of Nobara and Megumi who were stealthily trying to spy on the conversation by hiding behind a wall.

"You said you would watch Human Worm 4 with us today!"

The one with the caramel eyes began to complain about the injustice that was occurring, a perfect time for his faithful friends to take action.

“We already prepared everything, you can't leave us stranded for an afternoon of movies!”

Nobara grumbled as she tried to fix the sleeves of her raccoon pajamas.

"We made a pact, you must suffer with us"

Megumi was supposed to be the most mature of the group, perhaps Sukuna had overestimated him because he never imagined seeing him share the same neuron as his friends while also wearing ridiculous beige dog pajamas.

“It's a shame brats, it'll have to be another day.”

The older twin's hands didn't stop moving trying to find the car keys; he had somehow managed to look appropriately with a hint of elegance, but without losing that menacing aura, a pair of black pants held up by an expensive belt that he had stolen from his father, a dark gray shirt with the first few buttons open showing his collarbones and the sleeves perfectly arranged at his elbows showing his tattooed arms.

"You look like a criminal"

“Who said I'm not?”

Itadori's intentions to plant some blame on his brother for abandoning them on a seemingly important night were noticeable for miles.

"At least have the decency to tell me where the hell you're going."

Sukuna took a while to respond, his eyes straying suspiciously and the trio could see a slight nervousness on his face. Wait, nerves? Sukuna? Those words were naturally contrary, it even seemed strange to put them together in one sentence. Here was definitely another shoe that was taking a while to drop.

"Mind your own business, don't be nosy"

Itadori instantly stood between his brother and the front door, blocking his way, he would get to the bottom of this matter at any cost.

"Are you planning something bad? Mom will be angry if you get into trouble again"

"Yes, yes, yes. I plan to do many bad and illegal things, in fact in this mood I plan to strangle the first person in front of me"

Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi looked at each other before leaving the hallway clear, letting Sukuna walk.

"Behave badly, take good care of yourself and if they discover you, deny everything"

“See you”

Once the so-called evil twin left the house, the hallway was completely silent for a few seconds.

“Don't you feel...? Curiosity?"

An excited Nobara looked at her friends with bright, gossip-hungry eyes.

"No not really"

Megumi's voice was ignored as Itadori pushed the Fushiguro boy's face away with his hand.

"I was hoping you'd ask, Nobara! In fact, my brother has been acting strange lately."

Itadori put on a thoughtful expression as he remembered his brother's unusual behavior in recent weeks.

"What do you mean he's been acting strange?"

At that moment Nobara had taken on a detective attitude, while the previously disinterested Megumi began to listen attentively to his friends.

“He's been coming home late, more than usual.”

“That doesn't seem strange for someone like him.”

An exalted Itadori raises his hands dramatically as he defends his argument.

“But when he is usually late it is always because he is causing problems in the streets and he is not at all careful with his arrival, now it is different!”

Sharing a room with Itadori, Sukuna didn't care how scandalous he could be when he showed up at home after curfew. He didn't pay attention to the fact that the noise of his shoes being thrown to any side of the room or that the sound of his swear words every time he tripped over something could disturb his brother's sleep.

Lately, however, the nights that Sukuna had spent late away from home had become more frequent, and Itadori couldn't help but notice even in the dead of night how messy his twin's clothes were every time he returned with silent footsteps and he also did not overlook the large number of marks that stood out on Sukuna's neck.

“Also, he has been trying hard in all his school subjects, he has turned in all his homework and sometimes he goes out to the library to study. Did you hear what I said? He goes to the library to study!”

“That's definitely not the Sukuna we know, something is happening to him.”

The three teenagers headed to the living room to sit down to discuss more calmly and solve that mystery.

“Do you think someone is bullying him?”

Itadori looked worried for a split second at Nobara's statement until Megumi gave him a strange, brief sarcastic smile.

“Are you serious right now? Do you think Sukuna, the most feared man on campus, could be bothered by someone? Jesus Christ even earned the nickname “The King of Curses”

They didn't need much time to agree with Megumi, it was impossible to imagine Sukuna being submissive to anyone.

“True, it would make more sense for him to be the one who bothered someone… It can't be possible”

“I told him clearly not to get into trouble, but he never listens to me!”

“Wait, Yuji, calm down. Don't you think that if that's the case, he's spending too much time on that person?”

Itadori seemed to think about it for a second and his face transformed into one of much more dramatic horror than before.

"So he really hates that person! Maybe he's planning a murder? Your brother isn't exactly known for being patient"

Nobara's words were the little push Itadori needed to panic.

"Sukuna definitely can't go to the correctional facility again!... Mom was very sad back then..."

Nobara and Megumi looked into each other's eyes, unable to abandon their friend in such a situation.

"Fine! Our mission today is to prevent your brother from becoming a criminal.”

"Are we allowed to use force? I still have to get revenge for the books I lent him."

The brown-haired girl, Kugisaki, was the first to stand up and was followed by Fushiguro. It seemed like a scene worthy of a movie, this was the motivational part because both friends extended their hands to the boy in tiger pajamas.

“Wait, wait, wait… What happened to your books?”

“I'll ask your brother when I see him.”

It had been approximately 30 minutes since the trio of friends had located and followed Sukuna, a difficult mission that had begun with the friends running after the older twin's car. The fatigue was overcome by surprise when seeing the target enter a flower shop.

“We're late, he's already planning the funeral!”

“Wait, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… Maybe he's going to visit a friend?”

“Impossible, my brother has no friends”

Nobara and Yuji's brief talk was interrupted when they saw Sukuna leaving that flower shop with a huge and pretty bouquet of yellow carnations.

"You see it? Maybe your brother is not as bad as he seems” Nobara's voice tried to be optimistic, and it also seemed strange to her that a man would buy flowers for no apparent reason.

“Now I'm quite confused” Itadori, for his part, narrowed his eyes, staring at Sukuna, trying to read his brother's mind.

Megumi spoke with a stiff voice drawing the attention of his friends.

"Don't be so surprised, in the language of flowers, carnations of that color mean contempt"

"Is he turning his assassination attempt into a performance? He's getting creative"

"Hey, he's leaving. Hurry up"

The gang quickly got into a taxi and like every chase scene, Itadori and Nobara yelled at the driver to follow the car in front of them, Megumi had to apologize to the driver at the end of the ride.

Sukuna drove his car until he reached the darkest and most dangerous neighborhood that anyone could imagine, clearly that place had an invisible sign indicating that it was better not to be there, there were few passers-by and the streets were cold with graffiti everywhere.

The older twin got out of his car after having entered the area a little, he walked as if that place was his territory, as if he felt at home, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, raising them to his elbows, with a bored look he observed the time on his watch and then leaned his back against the wall waiting patiently. Meanwhile, the trio had remained hidden behind a pile of boxes and seemingly useless objects, thinking about Ryomen's intentions.

"There isn't a soul in this place, what is he planning to do?"

Itadori's question was answered when Megumi held his jaw making him look to his right, his eyes widened as he saw a girl with a small frame, transmitting an aura of delicacy and fragility, she was the complete stereotype of a little princess wearing a pink dress and white sneakers, light makeup and a flower crown adorning her hair, she looked out of context walking with a smile and humming a song in that horrible alley.

"It can't be her... There's no way Sukuna..."

Nobara's words were cut off when the red-eyed man put out his cigarette and walked over to where the girl was with a proud smile on his face.

The fear that this small, fragile woman could be hurt by his violent brother made Itadori quickly get up from his hiding place and stand in front of his brother.

"Sukuna! Stop right there, don't do it!"

The sudden entrance of his nosy brother surprised Sukuna who maintained a displeased scowl at his twin's actions.

"What the fuck? Get out of the way brat, I'm on something important right now"

"Don't you dare take another step, don't do something you'll regret!"

Itadori's voice took a drastic change, sounding too threatening compared to his usual cheerful tone.

"What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone, I don't have time for this."

Sukuna looked at the horrified girl who was just a few meters away from him, he pushed his brother away with one hand with the intention of walking towards where she was, however he was stopped and subdued on the ground by Megumi.

“Don't even try it, you disgusting scoundrel.”

“Leave me alone, you fucking bastards!”

While the three men argued and fought among themselves, Nobara also came out of her hiding place and walked towards the frightened woman, being careful not to exalt her even more, Kugisaki placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.

"Are you okay? “Did he do something to you?”

The girl's hands remained covering her mouth, completely surprised by the situation. She instantly left Nobara and ran quickly to where Sukuna was lying on the ground.

"What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!"

Megumi and Itadori's movements stopped, still holding Sukuna on the ground, they turned to look completely surprised at the owner of that little voice, their minds went blank as they watched her approach, she put her hands on Fushiguro's chest. making an attempt to push him away from the red-eyed twin.

"What are you doing to my boyfriend?! Leave him alone!"

Still bewildered, Itadori was the first to move away and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for him to do the same, allowing Sukuna to stand up a little dazed.

"I don't know what 'Kuna did to you, but what you are doing is not right, it is not right to intimidate others, problems are solved by talking"

You stood in front of your boyfriend trying to be the one to defend him this time, you used to be a little shy when talking to strangers, but you weren't going to let your lover be the victim of such an unfair situation.

"Honey, calm down. They are—"

"No, love! They were very mean to you, no matter who they are!"

You knew that Sukuna had a special weakness for you that made him want to protect you from any danger, everyone told you that, obviously he would also want to take control of this situation in his hands. No, this time it was your turn to protect him, to be his knight in shining armor.

On the other hand, there were also the three idiots who had tried to play detective, watching the situation in astonishment.

"She... just called him love"

“Yes, she really did”

"I can't believe it"

Ryomen had tried to calm his girlfriend's little anger by taking her hands and caressing them, it worked for a few seconds until that trio spoke again.

Upon hearing the incredulous voices of those strangers, you let go of Sukuna's hands and walked a few steps close to those you thought were criminals.

"Listen, my parents are very important people, I will make sure you are punished appropriately"

Your acute and sweet angry voice was silenced by Sukuna's lips, one of his large hands finding a place on your waist while the other caressed your soft cheek.

"It's okay, princess"

"No, it's not okay-"

You tried to reply to his deep voice, you would be lying if you said it didn't make you shiver, his voice was only directed at you, only for you to hear, that made you calm down and also lowered the tone of your voice.

"Pretty, this is my stupid brother and his friends."

"...Impossible, it can't be…, they were subduing you"

"Don't worry, I'm sure they have a good explanation for doing all this, right?"

The affectionate look that Sukuna had given his supposed girlfriend had changed drastically when he turned to look at his friends, removed his touch from his beloved and walked towards the frightened trio, cracking the fingers of his fists.

"Last words?"

Approximately 10 minutes had passed after that disastrous encounter, Sukuna had considered himself generous that day so he decided to take his brother and his friends to the house where they should have stayed from the beginning, very kind, it had nothing to do with his girlfriend will look at those three idiots like abandoned puppies.

"How were we supposed to know you were visiting your girlfriend?"

"What kind of dates are you taking her on?"

"Yeah, you looked like you were about to commit a crime!"

Of course Itadori, Megumi and Nobara tested their patience throughout the car ride, complaining from the back seats and trying to alleviate the pain caused by the car owner's blows. Your curious little eyes turned to look at the trio with intrigue.

"Why do you say that?"

None of them knew how to answer your question, the answer was so obvious that they thought you were stupid or blind, of course none of them said that thought out loud, not when they felt Sukuna's psychopathic gaze in the rearview mirror. However, that didn't stop Yuji from continuing the conversation either.

"You were alone in that horrible and dangerous place, it is the perfect opportunity for a madman"

"Oh, that..."

Your calm reaction to that comment only confused them more, you were too sweet to be in those places and even worse to be there with Sukuna for no good reason.

"Her parents are renowned people and they do not agree with our relationship, that is why we must meet in the most discreet places possible"

"Sometimes dad hires people to watch me, so our meeting point for dates is that place."

The older twin's words left the dynamic trio thinking, especially Itadori and Nobara, Megumi didn't really care much, your complementation made them imagine a current version of Romeo and Juliet. The explanations of your strange relationship had clarified most of his doubts regarding the strange day.

"Wait, what about the flowers?"

Nobara's comment made all the attention focus on Ryomen who wrinkled his face in confusion until he remembered the detail that his friend was talking about at the same time that he stopped the car in front of his house.

"What flowers?"

"Oh right, I brought you something"

Sukuna got out of the car and went to the back taking something out of the trunk, a nice big bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you held by your handsome boyfriend.

"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have bothered."

"It's no bother when I can make you happy"

You received the beautiful flowers in your small hands, allowing yourself to smell them, such a fresh smell while you lovingly observed your loved one and he returned the same look, absorbed in that cloying atmosphere.

Of course that beautiful moment was not the most comfortable for everyone present, much less for Yuji Itadori imitating his twin with a shrill and annoying voice, since he had never seen his brother in that silly state.

"It's no bother when I can make you happy"

“I'm going to kick your ass”

Megumi couldn't stay silent for long either, because something kept echoing in her mind.

"But the meaning of flowers..."

"Excuse me?"

You looked at him with a smile so sweet and innocent that he hesitated for a second on his next words.

“Those flowers have a negative meaning…”

"It's funny you think my 'Kuna knows the meaning of flowers"

"We should have assumed that"

⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here

[cherry-leclerc]

lolita ☆ cs55

genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature

word count: 14.9k

You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding. 

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.  

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).

cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY. 

She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground. 

He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.

But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began. 

Where Paradise met Hell.

-

Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.

They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew. 

You liked them older.

Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.

And that’s a story for later.

-

Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.

Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.

And your older sister, Ollie? 

Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one. 

Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.

Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good. 

Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped. 

“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”

Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.

“Papi, how are you?”

Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.

“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”

You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?

You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.

“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”

-

It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.

Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.

Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?

“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”

Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.

Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-

“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”

Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.

Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room. 

He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. 

“I am so, so, sorry.”

Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume. 

Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down. 

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”

Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”

Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between. 

“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”

Wait.

“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”

No, no, no.

“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”

Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?

What was so fucking special about her?

Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man. 

Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest. 

“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you. 

-

It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that. 

Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze. 

“How’s school?”

Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”

The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming. 

Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain. 

“What do you do for work?”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.” 

You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair. 

“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”

Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.

“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”

The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”

“I might.”

Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”

You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.

-

You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities. 

Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”

He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.

“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”

He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”

It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over. 

“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”

“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”

7 years.

Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”

“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”

Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.

“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”

He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.

“Calling him wh- Papi?”

He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again. 

“Forget it. How would I know?”

-

Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless. 

Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.

Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.

“Not having fun?”

Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.

“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.

“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night. 

“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights. 

You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.

“You know the groom or the bride?”

“Bride.”

He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.

Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.” 

“It is. Thank you for caring.”

He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”

“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”

He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it. 

“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”

Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Maxie.”

Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.

The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”

“Nothing that should concern you.”

His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.

“Right. Have a good night.”

-

Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all. 

So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.

Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place. 

“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”

“Ouch.”

Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.

Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be. 

“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”

Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke. 

“When was this taken?”

“The day of our engagement.”

You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you. 

Fuck her, honestly. 

“Why’d you propose?”

He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?

“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware -  and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”

Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults? 

He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words. 

You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you. 

Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”

“You should leave.”

You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff. 

“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”

Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought. 

He’s fucked. 

-

The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along. 

“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room. 

It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back. 

Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you. 

The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight. 

His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete. 

His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion. 

Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps. 

“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law. 

“What are you doing up so late?”

Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs. 

“First time?”

“No. It’s just been a while.”

You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns. 

“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”

And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes. 

His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly. 

“You know what you remind me of?”

You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips. 

“A Lolita.”

A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin. 

The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.

A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home. 

-

More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce. 

Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.

“Are you okay?”

Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up. 

“Why’d you do it?”

Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue. 

“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”

Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-

His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.

He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello. 

“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”

His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips. 

“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”

Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.

“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.

Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling. 

“Take care, Carlos.”

-

It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.

“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”

You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”

Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.”

“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”

The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.

“What are we talking about?”

“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.

“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”

Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”

“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”

Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other. 

“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”

“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.

Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular. 

“The fuck - Are you crying?”

“What do you want?”

She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”

Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.

“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”

You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience. 

But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?

She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away. 

“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”

We probably shouldn’t-

Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.

“You and him…”

She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.” 

“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”

If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.

But now you did.

“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”

-

Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.

Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.

“How are we all doing?”

They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.

Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.

Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.

“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”

Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”

You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”

“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.

“Not a word of this to Carlos.”

“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”

Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”

“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”

“He won’t believe you…”

She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”

“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”

Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you. 

“Are you okay?” 

Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.

“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”

“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”

Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”

-

If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this? 

You hated her.

You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.

Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.

“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”

You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.

“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”

“Thank you,” you blush.

Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”

“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”

“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”

Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”

Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?

“I always find you alone.”

You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.” 

“Ah. I see.” 

You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”

“About?”

“Marrying a monster.”

He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”

“You were thinking of quitting?”

He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”

It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.

Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow. 

“Want to dance?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”

“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”

Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”

His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.

“Mentirosa.”

“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully. 

The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…

His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap. 

Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

-

Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie. 

He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely. 

“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”

Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.

“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.” 

He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins. 

Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!

The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.

Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.

With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches. 

“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”

Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.

As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast. 

“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.” 

True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps. 

“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”

-

Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red. 

Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.

“Boo!”

“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”

“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.

“You’re fucked up.”

Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”

“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.

“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”

He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”

Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.

Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.

“Fucking delicious.”

Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe. 

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of cours-s-e.”

Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.

“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action. 

“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”

Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.

Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.

“Do you-”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”

If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it. 

His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.

“How about mine?”

He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you. 

He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.

You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.

“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”

Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss. 

“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”

“You know it’s always been for you.”

With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.

“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”

His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”

Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out. 

“Let’s start off with something else then.”

You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place. 

“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”

“Yes.”

His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck. 

Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria. 

“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.

And that was only going to multiply.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”

No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.” 

His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.

“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”

Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.

He adds a fourth digit.

“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”

He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax. 

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.

This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening. 

Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.

Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.

Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.

Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.

His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser. 

Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.

The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins.

Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips. 

“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”

When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release. 

Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more. 

Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths. 

“Will you fuck me now?” 

You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.

“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”

In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.

“Then you should be fucked as such.”

With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.

First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.

I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.

Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.

“Oh God.”

Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.

“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment. 

Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets. 

The keys for the gate to Heaven.

Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.

“Does that feel good, bonita?” 

Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours. 

In this moment; he looked immortal.

“Carlos, I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.”

Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”

You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear. 

He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.

“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”

It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex. 

Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.

He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-

“I will.”

-

When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”

Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.

“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”

-

There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.

You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.

You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.

“Nice ceremony.”

“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”

He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right? 

The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.

Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.” 

“Good to know.”

“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”

“Like you care.”

She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”

No.

“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”

It can’t be. 

Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.

Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”

She knows. He told her. And they still got married. 

“Ollie, don’t…”

Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.

“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”

Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?

“Ollie, please…I love him.”

Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”

Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by. 

Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.

You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.

“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?” 

Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.

“Carlos!”

Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake. 

“Coming.”

-

Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.

“¿Bonita?”

Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?

Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists. 

As red as your dress.

He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.

“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey.  C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.

“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.” 

But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore. 

A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene. 

None of it mattered anymore.

[dreamcubed]

i think he knows | theodore nott x reader

song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

masterlist

"wanna see what's under that attitude."

—————————————

Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.

The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.

"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.

"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.

"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"

You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."

"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."

You sighed, unable to argue.

"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."

That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.

"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.

"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."

You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."

"It's not that hard."

"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."

"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."

"Whatever you say."

Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.

***

It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.

Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.

Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.

"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.

You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.

You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."

His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.

Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.

Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?

***

The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.

Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.

It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.

A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"

You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.

"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."

"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."

"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."

"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.

"I mean, maybe he likes you back."

"What?"

"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."

"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"

Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."

Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"

"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."

"Easy for you to say."

***

You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.

"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.

"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."

You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.

"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.

"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.

He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.

You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?

"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.

You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?

It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.

Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.

What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.

This might not end well.

***

You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.

"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."

You had a feeling you knew what was coming.

"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"

"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."

"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"

Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.

"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."

Your breath hitched.

You used coconut shampoo.

Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.

"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"

You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.

You felt warm underneath his gaze.

He smirked.

***

You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.

The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.

"You aren't subtle."

A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."

He shrugged, "It's cute."

Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.

"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.

"No. Just quiet."

You clutched your books close to your chest.

"You're shy," he added.

You nodded.

He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.

"Hogsmeade," he said.

You hummed in surprise.

"This weekend. Me, you."

Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.

But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.

***

"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.

"I don't even know if it's a date."

"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."

You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."

"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."

You gave your best friend a small smile.

"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"

***

You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.

How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.

He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.

Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.

At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.

"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"

You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.

"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.

He shrugged.

It was frustrating.

You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."

He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.

"Nott?"

He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.

"Theo- what are you doing?"

Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.

You hummed in agreement.

"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."

Your breath hitched, "Really?"

"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."

You felt your ears heat up.

"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."

A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.

"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."

You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.

"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."

"Horrifying?"

"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——

[landosjpg]

risk | ln

lando norris x teammate!reader

the one where you find your crush with someone else.

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: just a little bit of angst with happy ending

note: based on this request. i haven’t written anything longer than 500 words in so long so bare with me please, i hope this is good enough :) reader is a driver but it doesn’t play a big role on the story/is only mentioned like once or twice!

you felt anxious, the nerves eating you alive as you lied in the darkness of your hotel room. you knew it was normal, in only a few hours you would be on your way to your first ever home race as a formula 1 driver.

but you also needed sleep, and as hard as you tried, nothing seemed to put your mind at ease, your mind just going back to making up every possible scenario of what would happen as you stepped in the car the very next day. the good, and also the bad.

after hours of tossing and turning around in bed, you desperately sighed: there was only one thing that could help you relax. someone.

cozied up in your pajamas you silently made your way out of your room and walked down the corridor to lando’s room. you knew he was, most likely, still awake despite of the late hour, well aware of his bad sleeping habits.

while most people thought your relationship was merely professional, during the previous months lando and you had grown extremely close to each other. too close, some would say.

countless nights, you had spent hours in each other’s rooms, trying your best not to wake up the whole building with your laughter. and most of those nights had finished with your limbs tangled with his under the thin blankets, whispered conversations and lingering touches lulling you to sleep.

you weren’t sure where your relationship really stood; every time you took a step forward, it seemed like you went back another three the next morning, the few moments of intimacy quickly forgotten as soon as the sun came up.

but he was the only person around who could make you forget about all your worries in just a few minutes, so you knocked on his door, hoping to not wake anyone up.

you heard his voice on the other side of the wall, but you couldn’t quite understand his words. only a few seconds later, the door swung open, a dishevelled lando standing before you.

“hey,” he greeted you in a whisper.

“hey,” you repeated, trying to catch on the undertone of his voice. normally, he would had pulled you inside already.

“i wasn’t expecting you to come.”

“i…” you started explaining, your words cut off by a figure walking out of the bathroom. your eyes widened and you took a step back. “oh my god, sorry. i didn’t know you were… i’m just gonna…” you said, slowly walking back.

you heard lando sigh and close the door as you made your way to your room again, your chest tightening at the realization. You had completely misunderstood your relationship with him, and now you felt stupid.

you crawled under your sheets with a heavy heart, and as much as you tried to think about something else, the image wouldn’t leave your mind.

the soft knock on your door only a few minutes later startled you and still with a blanket wrapped around your body, you made your way to open.

what you hadn’t expected was to find lando in front of you again, leaning against the doorframe.

“can I come in?” he straight up asked, his eyes analyzing your form.

“I thought you were…”

“she just left,” he cut you off, rising his eyebrow as if to ask you again to let him in. you stepped aside, inviting him inside and closing the door behind him.

“i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” your voice was almost a whispered, embarrassed every time the scene played in your mind again.

“you didn’t,” he said, taking a sit on the edge of your bed. “you’ve been crying?”

no,” you quickly lied, shyly drying your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“your eyes are red,” he tried to ignore your gesture, but curiosity got the best of him.

“i’m just tired and can’t fall asleep,” you weren’t fully lying.

“mind if i..?” he mumbled, leaning back on the mattress.

He didn’t have to finish his sentence; you already knew what words followed: mind if i stay the night?

And normally, you would have giggled and told him that he didn’t even have to ask, but this time it felt different.

“i don’t think your girlfriend would like that,” you said before you could even think about your words.

an amused chuckled left his lips, “is that jealousy i hear?”

your cheeks heated up at his question, embarrassment growing inside you. and you couldn’t answer, too scared to mess up again.

“we didn’t do anything,” he explained, a softness in his eyes as he looked at you. “realized I would rather spend my time with someone else.”

your heart skipped a beat at the implications behind his words, silence falling hard between the two of you.

“really?” you finally managed to quietly ask.

he patted the spot next to him on the mattress, silently asking you to join him, “you’re that oblivious, huh?” he chuckled.

slowly, you made your way closer to him, his hands reaching for your body as soon as you were at arm’s length; his hands were hooked at your hips and he pulled you into him, standing in between his legs.

he looked up at you, a sly smile spread on his lips when your hands rested on his shoulders.

“you’re not just saying that, are you?” you questioned again, not completely sure of if he was just playing with you.

“don’t be silly,” he shook his head. “i’m actually crazy about you.”

your fingers found home in his curls, softly running a hand through his hair as your gaze met his, “what does this mean for us then?” your voice came out in a nervous whisper.

“i don’t know,” he answered in the same low tone. “but i’d really love to kiss you right now.”

your breath hitched at the statement, and you only could give him a slight nod of your head before he closed the gap between your lips, freeing you from all the worries that had been tormenting you for hours.

[rizsu]

can you do another one of your boyf megumi but with itadori 😶‍🌫️ similar plotline to your megumi and nobara one pls

+ love ‘su: *taps mic* hi hello, today we'll yet again be discussing first time bf meg— *dragged off stage*

boyfriend megumi who keeps a passport-sized photo of you in his wallet.

whenever times get rough on his side, he pulls out his wallet to adore you. you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen; looking at you calms him in seconds, but it's no match for you being physically there with him.

yuuji, however, hasn't learnt of megumi's new relationship yet. whenever he sees his friend looking like he's reminiscing about old times with the person in the photo, he assumes it's a beloved relative that's passed on.

similar to the latter, yuuji has once again found himself secretly worried for his best friend. he's even contemplating if he should contact gojo. has things truly been this rough? is he missing that person? what should he do?

so many questions, so little answers. the only thing left for yuuji to do is to sit himself near megumi, opening the pack of gum to offer him. megumi accepts, popping the gum in his mouth immediately.

he closes his wallet, shoving it into his pant's pocket before he leans back into the chair.

“i get it.” yuuji nods, folding his arms across his chest. “sometimes you just miss them, yet there's nothing you can do.”

intrigued by his friend's sudden speech, megumi responds, “yeah.”

“it's okay, though! you can share your worries with me.”

“huh?” megumi's now confused.

“i'm sorry that you lost a loved one, bro. i, too, lost my grandpa. but it's okay—”

“itadori, what are you on about?” megumi interrupts him, chewing on his gum as he judges yuuji. the sudden change in the direction the conversation's going greatly confused him.

yuuji's arms unfold. is he the one who misunderstood...?

“that girl in your wallet... isn't she dead? or something?”

megumi's head shakes, he has no clue why yuuji assumed such. to him, he didn't give off any behaviour/signs that indicates so. it's totally not like he's always slumped in a corner.

“that's my girlfriend who's very much alive. she's just on a family trip, so i haven't seen her in two weeks.”

“ah.” yuuji's mouth hangs open. the new information did not share any similarities with his previously believed one. it's completely wrong.

a hand moves to the back of his head, awkwardly scratching his hair, “haha, so— my bad?”

unsure of how to ease yuuji's awkwardness, megumi laughs it off. it isn't that big of a deal, and it's an honest mistake — it's not like he's the first one to assume you're dead anyway. maybe it's time megumi sets up a date to formally introduce you.

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act I, Scene II: The Crude Suggestion)

A provocative joke leads Spencer to contemplate, yet ultimately avoid, a crucial conversation with you.

Part warning: a little suggestive comment and two idiots being stubborn Words: 2.1k A/n: I want to remind you that each part doesn’t necessarily follow one another, the story focuses on their relationship and not on the cases being told. This is just a collection of shenanigans and nothing too serious!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about being in the middle of nowhere for a case. Maybe not exactly nowhere—you knew where you were, you could pinpoint this city on a map, but there wasn’t the same bustle and constant noise you were used to in Quantico. The relative quiet was unsettling, yet oddly comforting.

Although nothing was comforting about checking the crime scene deep in a forest in broad daylight. It was a small, unnaturally circular clearing where the grass was trampled down in places, and in the center was the remains of what you were there to investigate.

“So,” you started, your eyes scanning the place. “Do you think the Unsub uses these remote areas to avoid detection, or is he just a fan of the great—albeit bland—outdoors?”

Spencer glanced at you from the other side of the clearing.

“Statistically speaking, the isolation could serve to minimize the risk of witnesses. However, it’s also plausible that the Unsub finds comfort in solitude. Or maybe he just dislikes traffic.”

“Dislikes traffic,” you repeated, deadpan. “Yes, because serial killers are really just misunderstood commuters.”

Just as Spencer was about to retort with what you assumed would be a wildly thrilling statistic about traffic patterns and criminal behavior, Emily’s voice cut through the tension. “Can’t you two ever not bicker for more than five minutes?”

You turned to her. “I’m just trying to get a straightforward answer. But apparently, that’s too much to ask for.”

“I’m giving you a range of possibilities, which is what profiling is about. Sorry if that’s too complicated for you to understand.”

“Oh, I understand completely,” you replied, matching his tone. “I just find that half of your theories are unnecessary.”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “The depth of analysis ensures we don’t overlook anything. It’s thorough, not unnecessary.”

“You call it thorough. I call it overthinking.”

Emily stepped between you, raising a hand. “Alright, enough. Can we focus on the case now?”

“He started it,” you couldn’t resist muttering under your breath as you moved to another part of the clearing.

“Me? You were the one who—”

Emily cut him off with a loud, exasperated sigh, tilting her head back as if seeking divine intervention, before turning her gaze sharply back to both of you.

“Most people go to therapy to deal with this much-unresolved tension,” she remarked dryly. Then, fixing you with a pointed look, she added, “You know what else might help?”

You frowned, glancing towards her. “What?”

Emily paused dramatically, her gaze shifting from you to Spencer and back again at you, lingering a little too long. She didn’t say anything, but the way she raised her brows and the smirk playing on her lips, you knew what she was implying. It was as if there was an unspoken code that only years of friendship between women could understand.

You looked away, a slight burn along our cheeks.

Spencer, still oblivious, looked from Emily to you, confusion written all over his face. "What? What are you talking about?”

“Well—”

“No!” You stopped her. “Don’t listen to her.”

Spencer’s confusion deepened, his gaze shifting from you to Emily, trying to decipher the underlying message. Emily’s smirk only widened, clearly enjoying the discomfort she’d stirred up.

“You should ask Y/N,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’m sure she knows some great ideas for... tension relief.”

You felt your face heat up even more, and you shot Emily a warning look, partly annoyed and partly embarrassed by her insinuation. But she simply just laughed, and when a sudden car pulled up near them, Emily found a way to escape.

“Oh, look, the sheriff is here,” she said, swiftly changing the subject. “You guys check the area while I talk to him.”

Emily walked off to meet the sheriff, leaving you and Spencer alone in awkward silence. You turned away, eager to divert your attention back to work when you felt him hang back slightly to walk with you.

He seemed to hesitate before speaking. “What was she referring to?”

You glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction, wondering if he was genuinely confused or just looking for a way to keep the conversation light.

"Nothing," you replied with a dismissive shrug, keeping your eyes on the ground ahead. “She was joking.”

“I could tell, but what about?”

You paused, realizing that the vague explanations weren't going to satisfy him this time. His analytical mind was both a blessing and a curse in moments like these.

"She was suggesting—jokingly—that we might relieve our constant bickering... through more unconventional methods."

"Unconventional methods?"

“Sex, Reid. She was implying sex.”

His face instantly turned a shade of red, perhaps deeper than you had ever seen before. He blinked a few times, clearly taken aback by the bluntness of your clarification.

"Oh," he managed to stutter out, the usual fluency of his speech faltering under the weight of the topic. He bit his bottom lip, a nervous habit that you had come to recognize as his attempt to buy time while he gathered his thoughts. 

“That’s…”

“Crazy, right?” You pressed on. “I mean, nothing good will come out if we start blurring pleasure and professional lines like that.”

There, you said it, an underlining of your words that carried more weight than the immediate conversation. You wondered if he understood your double meaning, and maybe he did, because his gaze met yours sharply.

He exhaled, his demeanor shifting as he processed not just Emily's joke but also the deeper reference to that night—the one neither of you spoke about but still lingered between you.

“Right,” he finally responded, his voice firm, yet there was a hint of something else you couldn’t quite decipher. “Nothing good at all.”

“It would only complicate things.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

“The worst.”

For a moment, you both stood there, the forest around you fading into the background. You broke the silence first, turning away from him. "We should finish up here. There's still a lot of ground to cover."

With those words, you moved ahead, feeling his gaze on your back. The crunch of leaves under his steps echoed as he followed in silence.

It would only complicate things… as if it wasn’t already complicated in the first place.

Spencer looked over to where you stood; it was clear you were trying to avoid him for the past hour. He watched as you meticulously examined every leaf and twig, your focus seeming more like an escape than an investigation.

He knew he should say something, perhaps bridge the gap with an apology or an olive branch of some sort, but every potential word seemed to catch in his throat. It seemed like a constant cycle of hesitation and missed opportunities. Every time he thought to speak, doubt would claw its way back, holding him silent. 

He wondered if perhaps it was the same for you.

“Hey,” Emily’s voice filled the silence as she joined back. “Did you find anything?”

Spencer’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted by Emily’s arrival. He straightened up, quickly shifting his focus back to the present. He gestured towards the markings on the ground that you both had been examining.

“We might have found something.” 

Emily crouched beside you, eyes scanning the evidence with practiced ease. “You think this is from our Unsub?”

You nodded, offering the specifics, “The pattern and depth suggest it’s not natural. And the spacing might give us an idea about the size and weight of the Unsub.”

“I’ll get the forensics team to take a closer look.” She stood up, looking between you and Spencer. “You two okay here?”

“Yes, we’re fine,” Spencer answered quickly, a bit too eagerly. You simply nodded without saying a word.

“Alright, maybe I like it better when you both bicker.”

He saw you shrug nonchalantly. “I’m gonna check the other side,” you announced before walking away.

"She's avoiding me," he stated, a note of helplessness threading through his voice.

“Can you blame her?”

“What?” He asked, his voice tinged with defensiveness. “So it's my fault?”

“Well… did you do anything wrong?”

There was a pause before he glanced away, his mind racing through that night. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice low, almost reluctant. 

"There you go, you have your answer.” 

He shifted from one foot to the other, visibly uncomfortable, as his fingers twitched at his sides. “Do you think we’re overreacting?”

She sighed. “Look, I don't know the details of what happened, and as much as I want to help, it’s between you two. The way I see it, you have two options: either resolve the problem or continue bickering.”

He frowned, mulling over her words. He glanced toward you and faltered for a moment, noticing the glare you were throwing him even from the other side of the clearing. It was clear you didn’t want to engage in any type of conversation with him.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to stick with bickering.”

Emily laughed. “Really? You don’t want to consider my suggestion earlier?” When she caught the blush creeping on his cheeks, her grin widened. “Finally caught on what I meant?”

His blush deepened, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Oh, yeah, well, that's definitely not an appropriate solution," he stammered, trying to regain his composure. Collecting himself, he latched onto a more comfortable territory—facts. 

"Actually, according to a study, about 20% of workplace relationships lead to marriage, but they can also significantly complicate professional dynamics, increasing the potential for conflicts of interest.”

Emily simply smiled, clearly amused at how flustered he was. Her silence only urged him to continue.

"And, well, that doesn't even begin to cover the fallout if things don't work out. The workplace can become, um, a challenging environment for both parties involved. It's just... it's tricky."

Spencer winced to himself, because ironically, the fallout was already happening. The situation he was theorizing about in vague terms was unfolding right in front of him.

"It sounds like you're speaking from experience.”

“I’m not!” He responded almost too fast. “I’m not.”

She studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed his reaction. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the ground. The quick denial had been too sharp, too reflexive, and now he felt cornered by his own reactions.

“I’m not,” he insisted again. “I just... I mean, I've read a lot about it. You know, studies, research papers, it's nothing personal."

Emily nodded slowly, not entirely convinced but choosing not to push further. "If you say so.”

Her eyes lingered on him for a while, and when she realized the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, she turned around and left him.

“Where are you going?”

“Comforting her,” she called out, walking backward. “Something you should’ve done.”

He watched Emily walk away, her words stinging more than he wanted to admit. Then his eyes traveled to you, and it was as if you could sense his lingering stare, you looked up and met his gaze.

Anger. Annoyance. It was what he caught in your eyes before you quickly masked it with a neutral expression. The intensity of that brief exchange was enough to make him realize just how deep the rift between you had gone.

Spencer knew talking about it was the mature thing to do, but he also feared that bringing up that conversation might only open another can of worms. He felt stuck, unsure if addressing the issue would heal or harm. So he went back to being a coward and turned in the opposite direction.

It was for the better. You didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

[theemporium]

poly drivers (literally any idk they can all take me to Paris) reacting to a media personnel making a comment about reader… 👀👀

a mood💀thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“My next question goes to the two fellas on the right.”

You pressed your lips together to try and bite back your smile as you watched Max subtly roll his eyes as he reached for his microphone. 

It never failed to amuse you how much the boy hated media duties, even after so many years being involved with the sport. He hated it, he thought it was a waste of time, and if he could avoid it, he would. 

Meanwhile, Charles sat next to him with a charming smile on his face. Despite his questionable acting skills, he was a performer in front of the cameras. He seemed to naturally know what people wanted to hear, what they wanted to hear from him. He seemed to have the media stuff under lock and key after so many years of having a camera shoved in his face. 

And conferences like this one—where both your boys were in one group—were your absolute favourite to watch. Just seeing the mere difference in the men you loved never failed to entertain you.

But as quickly as your good mood came, it quickly dropped when you heard the reporter's question. 

“Do you think sharing the same woman has helped your relationship on track or made it worse?” 

Your stomach dipped as the room fell silent, only the clicking of cameras and scribbling of pens on notepads could be heard. You didn’t care about the other journalists gawking at you, or even the other drivers on the couch. Your eyes were firmly glued to your boys.

Charles was frowning, a look mixed with shock and disbelief written across his face. Your boy in red liked to see the best in people, expect the best in people. And you could actively see his brain trying to work around the question to see if he just misunderstood what the man had just asked. 

But Max was a different story. 

His face was stoic and the glare he sent the reporter was almost bone-chilling. You honestly expected him to storm off, or even throw something at the reporter—to act out in the way you knew he was constantly scolded about by the Red Bull PR team. 

What you weren’t expecting was for Charles to be the first one to speak. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

The shock and surprise was clear on everybody’s face as Charles straightened up in his seat, his brows furrowed as he stared at the reporter in disgust. The man opened his mouth to speak, to probably defend himself, but Charles didn’t give him the chance. 

“No, seriously, who do you think you are?” Charles continued, his accent coming out a little thicker as he spoke. “We are racers. This is our job. Our relationship has nothing to do with anything, and it’s disrespectful that you would even bring it up, let alone talk about our girlfriend like she’s an object. She’s a human, unlike whatever you are.”

You stood there, mouth agape at the words that just came out of your boyfriend’s mouth.

However, Max almost looked proud before he lifted the microphone to his lips.

“You’re a fucking dickhead, have fun completely ending your career,” he stated simply with a smug look on his face before he dropped the microphone, not even bothering to listen to the media managers as they scrambled to get him to sit back down as he walked out with Charles following. 

Your cheeks burned as everyone turned to look at you, but you didn’t pay them any attention as you quickly slid out of the conference room. You barely made it three steps out the door before you felt an arm winding around your waist and tugging you towards a hard body, the smell of Charles’ cologne hitting you seconds later. 

“Amour,” he murmured as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you like he was scared you would disappear. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Shh, it’s not your fault,” you cooed as you wrapped your arms around him, your fingers running through the hair on the nape of his neck as his body sagged against yours. “You were quite bold in there.”

“Didn’t like the way they were talking about us,” he grumbled.

You lifted your head when you spotted Max a few steps away, the smug look still painted across his face as he reached for you, his hand placed on the small of your back. 

“Personally, I think that was the best conference I have ever been a part of,” Max commented with a shrug, his smile widening a little when he saw you snort. 

“Be nice,” you chastised.

“I am,” he defended. “It was hot.”

“It was,” you agreed, and Charles’ arms tightened around you. 

“Let’s get him fired,” Charles said suddenly as he lifted his head to look at you both, trying to ignore the fact his cheeks were burning at your words. 

“I think he did that fine on his own,” Max said.

“No, I want him fired,” Charles frowned. “I don’t want to see him near a paddock ever again.”

“Okay, calm down,” you murmured as you ran your hands up and down his back. “Let’s just get out of here and let you cool down before you do something irrational. I think you’re on an adrenaline high.”

“I don’t like people who say things about us, about you,” Charles huffed.

You smiled as you leaned up, pressing a lingering kiss against his pouting lips. “And I appreciate that very much, baby.”

“Our knight in shining armour,” Max teased, only to wince a little when you pinched his side. “Kidding, schatz, I love you both.”

“Better,” you grinned before pecking his lips too. “Let’s stop by the Red Bull motorhome before we head back to the hotel, I want more of those churros.”

Max snorted. “Whatever you want.”

.

[pollyperks]

so luz went from the girl at school failing her classes with no friends, completely misunderstood by her teachers, other kids, her mom even, to the girl with friends for life (and an awesome girlfriend) who has half the people on the boiling isles show up for her quinceañera because turns out she's a hero and she's found the place she belongs and is understood and completely loved for who she is

willow went from miserable, bullied girl who didn't believe she could do anything right and tried to make herself so small to a natural team leader and complete girlboss (with a cute boyfriend) who just...oozes confidence in everything that she is, there is no way you can look at her and believe people once dared to call her half-a-witch and if anyone did now she could take them to the cleaners except she couldn't care less and the rest of the hexsquad would do it for her anyway

gus went from the kid who didn't think he could do anything right to a confident teacher who gets to show students his passion for the human realm (and he can pop in and out all the time which is the dream!) and being a prodigy is really a gift now, not something that sets him apart and makes him a target but instead an awesome teacher who can empathize with students having a hard time and is just plain cool on top of all that as he teaches them not to eat paperclips

amity went from one dimensional mean girl actually desperately trying to earn her parents' approval to wild, adventure seeking author who made up for who she was, cut ties with her emotionally abusive mother and terrible friends, has a close relationship with her dad now plus the best friends ever (byeeee boscha), and also has an awesome girlfriend as she travels all over the isles doing exactly what she wants with no one controlling her

and wow okay hunter went from the golden guard who obeyed belos' every order out of the insane desire to be needed and special without realizing if he messed up belos was literally growing his replacement because he was always just a copy of someone belos both hated but couldn't let go of haha that's dark to being just hunter who has guardians he doesn't have to flinch away from and tons of friends and he gets to carve palismen just how he wanted and his girlfriend could definitely bench press him and he'll always remember the first friend who ever found him (chose him!!) and saved his life in so many ways THE HEXSQUAD IS SO GOOD I JUST!!!!!!!

[ddarker-dreams]

thinking about chrollo in a Normal relationship (he's still a possessive weirdo at times but not so much as his yandere counterpart)

affection is a strange concept to chrollo.

as your relationship progresses and your bond deepens, how he expresses it changes. what started out as grand, romantic gestures meant to dazzle you steadily softens. he isn't familiar with authenticity — it's a stranger he thought he'd long cut ties with. your presence in his life has him wondering if he should rekindle the acquaintanceship.

you don't need a fancy dinner with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. you just need him. his intentionality. texts throughout the day of his various musings, the genuine kind, untainted by constant attempts to woo you.

This first date to my side is developing nicely. The guy's complaining that his philosophy professor 'refuses to challenge her own innate subjective worldview.' Direct quote Who do you think his paper was about? My money's on Hegel. Turns out it's Nietzsche who foiled his future in academics He corrected her pronunciation (they're both wrong) 'Global warming is a red herring, religion will be the unraveling of society, not some carbon monoxide' She's checked her watch five times in the past minute Do you think this misunderstood intellect will get a second date? Or will fourth-wave feminism get in the way of true love?

you don't know how to describe the shift. he's never come off as anything but confident, but now it's like he's actually comfortable with you. relaxed. it's odd — nothing's changed, yet everything has. 'your place,' becomes 'our place.' he has a preferred seat at your dining table. he's familiar with your workplace drama and requests updates, setting your freshly prepared drink next to his wine glass as he does so.

commercials advertising wedding rings make him feel strangely warm. he's somehow breathless after kissing you, despite supposedly having complete control over his body. he traces his finger over your signature, wondering how it'll look when your surname matches his. he doesn't just chuckle at your antics anymore, he laughs freely, his face sore from how wide you make him smile. your lexicon bleeds into his.

he says that you taught him how to love. it's a claim you mistake for one of those clichés he spouts just to make you groan and roll your eyes. maybe it would've been an empty platitude at first, but now, it couldn't be more true.

[theoihalioistuff]

Do you have any information on misconceptions about Hades & Persephone? I'm not well read but all the portrayals of them as a #goals power couple doesn't seem quite right to me (also am I losing my mind or did Persephone get girlbossified?) I could be totally wrong of course! There's a lot to learn in the world. Hope your day is good ^-^

Hi Anon! Sorry for taking so long to reply, (I'm in the middle of exam season and have tons of work to do T~T)

There's a lot to unpack here, as this is basically the most popular greek myth nowadays and one of the most affected by misinformation and people spreading their headcannons as facts. Broadly, in every surviving account their marriage is a forced abduction, where Persephone is very much unwilling. For example in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (our earliest and most complete source): she cries out in fear for help as she's seized and dragged away under the earth "So he, that Son of Cronos, of many names, who is Ruler of Many and Host of Many, was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal chariot — his own brother’s child and all unwilling", is mournful and despondent until she gladdens at the news of being brought back to the surface and reunited with her mother, is "grieved to tell the tale" of her abduction, and finally is not so much tricked as force-fed the pommegranate "I sprang up at once for joy; but he secretly put in my mouth sweet food, a pomegranate seed, and forced me to taste against my will."

On the other hand, it's true that their marriage is one of the few where they are presented as standing on equal footing and ruling jointly (compared to, for example, Zeus and Hera, where she's generally very much subordinate to him), to the point where Persephone frequently eclipses her husband as sovereign in myth (sending forth the dead in the Odyssey, recieving Herakles when he goes to the underworld, permitting the return of Sisyphos and Alkestis, etc.) and it's widely theorised that Persephone predates Hades in her role as ruler of the underworld. Also in several parts of Magna Graecia their marriage seems to have displaced Zeus and Hera's as the ideal model in cult.

I get the appeal many feel for the myth (though also frankly sometimes get a bit tired of it), but regarding original sources I would certainly hesitate to call a kidnapping and a forced marriage a #goals power couple. As for Persephone getting "girlbossified", I completely agree and find it really disappointing how in most so called "feminist retellings" the only sort of shallow "empowerment" she gets is "fiercely stricking a pose and looking cunty in black next to her bad-boy misunderstood sweetie of a goth/millionaire fifty-shades-of-grey husband."

All that aside, for a great retelling that in my opinion successfully presents Hades and Persephone as a compelling love story and skillfully avoids the pitfalls where most other retellings fall short, I can't recommend @a-gnosis comics enough. They're really well researched, original, beautifully drawn and peopled with actually well written characters (non-perfect, endearing, interesting, etc.) instead of 2D caricatures. She balances a delightful romance without ignoring and addressing the beats of the original myth (as much as possible anyway, no easy feat in my opinion), and all her comics are free to read on her tumblr, deviantart and comicsfury. I really recommend them to anyone interested!

[sunfyresrider]

ミ♥︎OUR LAST SUMMER | NETEYAM SULI

❥Summary: You were never allowed to leave the lab, especially to venture off into the forest. However, one day you get a extreme urge to go to the river and that’s where you met him. The man who would surely be your downfall. ❥Word Count: 8k ❥Tags: obsessive tendencies, love struck Neteyam, mild manipulation, jealous!neteyam, interspecies relationship, wingman!Lo’ak, smut, fingering, oral, p n v, choking (slightly), mild angst. Am I missing anything? Lmk! ❥Author’s Note: This can be seen as a part one to a future fic of mine ‘Mated for Life’. S/O to me for finally remembering to add a word count LMAO. This is inspired by an older fic of mine so I’m kinda copyrighting myself😎

Neteyam knew from a young age everything would fall on his shoulders, that all the responsibilities of an adult would be his to bear. It made him pretty fucking miserable to be honest, but he would never let it show. It made him a better person in many ways, a better son, a better warrior, and a great brother. It did not make him happy nor did it make him forget the loneliness he felt.

Lo’ak always claimed he was misunderstood but Neteyam dare say he had it worse. No one viewed him as other than perfect, no one attempted to see what’s under the surface, and no one was there to love him in the ways he thought he deserved. Today was one of the days that proved he wouldn’t be anything other than the perfect soldier. Another day he had to take the blame for something he did not do.

His brother had snuck onto the battlefield and nearly killed them both. The second their ikrans landed his father had a speech to give to them both, even while his eldest son was bleeding. He took the blame as he always did, the yelling, the insults, and the beratement to protect his younger brother. How much more could he take though? After his wounds had been healed he found himself in the corner of the forest, knees pressed tightly to his chest.

Neteyam prided himself on not being weak but today he let the tears flows. He let the river attempt to wash away the burden that he had no choice but to carry. Neteyam wanted someone, just anyone, to understand him. That is what he prayed for from Ewya, even though the great mother did not involve herself in petty things such as this, he hoped she would this one time.

You had grown up on Pandora, your mother being one of the great scientists who worked with Grace Augustine and Jake Sully. She didn’t allow you to venture outside often like spider, you were too small, too precious to her to risk being harmed in the wilderness. In your opinion it was a load of bullshit and you deserved to play with the Na’vi kids just like him! Except now you were older, inexperienced, out of shape, and would probably die by a viper wolf attack.

Unfortunately for her you were born with rebellion in your heart and a strong sense of will. Dusk had fallen on the moon and the light from the windows inside the lab were beginning to fill the room's orange. It was one of the rare moments you were able to be completely alone. It was a strict rule to return to your room after biology lessons with Norm but you had plenty of time to stroll. Right now, your mother would still be aiding the warriors returning from the recent battle. It was prime time to make an escape and explore.

You first met Neteyam in a very compromising position, curled up by the stream and sleeping. There was a subtle stain on his blue skin from tears that were shed earlier. He looked pathetic, not in a bad way, in an abused puppy way that made your heart melt. How could you leave him out here all alone? Granted, he was twice your size and carried many weapons but that thought did not ease the ache in your heart. No one should ever be left alone to cry. You crawled next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “Neteyam?” You whispered into his ears.

His eyebrows began to furrow slightly, ears twitching in the direction of your voice. “Neteyam, wake up.” He jumped up and snatched your wrist, startling you. “Brother?!” His eyes scanned the surroundings quickly and you before settling with a confused expression plastered on his face. “S-sorry Lo’ak isn’t here,” you mumbled out. You knew the former vastly better since he visited the lab so often, all you knew of the eldest was stories.

Neteyam’s quickened breathing settled, his eyes scanning over your form. Which human were you? You were too pretty to be another scientist, too young to have lived here during the war. It took him awhile of staring at you for his brain to finally put it together, “star girl.” His hands released you slowly as his mouth hung slightly agape, why in Ewya’s name would Lo’ak hide you from him? He had seen you in passing once or twice but he didn’t realize you looked like this.

Neteyam never considered an alien could be beautiful but you proved him very wrong. You had the perfect lips, your eyes glistened with his reflection inside your pupils. Your hair fell perfectly, highlighting your pretty face. And from what he could see from your strange clothes you had a nice body too. “Lo’ak told me many things about you, all good so far.” He quickly cleared his throat, pulling his hands away to wipe the tears from his eyes. This was embarrassing, but he was going to push through it.

Two tiny, four fingered, hands cupped his cheeks. Your skin was warm, soft and distracting him from his original thought. “Are you alright? Was someone being cruel to you?” You regretted the last sentence as it stumbled out, he was just in a battle you idiot! Oh Ewya, help him because you sounded like the angels his dad spoke about. Neteyam was too dumbfounded to say anything coherent, maybe too starstruck by your presence.

You weren’t necessarily wrong, his father did hurt him deeply. His mother hurt him by not standing up for him either. The most perplexing part was you cared to ask, your tiny self risked being in these dangerous lands just to see if he was alright. Neteyam forced himself to nod slowly, not entirely sure how to react to such comfort.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best thing to do but your mother always comforted you in this way. You had even done this to Kiri a few times when she came to the lab to cry about her own problems. Gently, you swiped the tear tracks from his face, pressing two gentle kisses where they laid. “Don’t cry, you’re an amazing warrior, a good son, an even better brother. You finished your Rite of Passage before anyone else your age. You have so much more to offer than just those things and they’re just too blind to see it. And so many people love you like-”

“My child,” the sounds of your mother's cries echoed in your ears. Shit, she knew you had escaped. You let go of him quickly, preparing to run into her arms and feign innocence. Before you left though, you jumped onto him, arms embracing his frame the best they could. “You're perfect, okay? I’m always here to talk if you need it." You jumped to your feet, brushing off the dirt you had collected whilst exploring. "I gotta go... feel better!"

Neteyam sat up and watched you scurry away, his eyes were wide and time had stilled around him. Where the fuck have you been his entire life? His heart felt full in a way it hadn’t before, Neteyam’s stomach twisting around itself. The thoughts of your little hands, your little frame, your sweet voice and soft lips swirling in his head. You were so… perfect, so inviting… You had to be his.

He had never truly thought about having someone all for himself, especially an alien. But even the perfect son needed to indulge his own desires at times, even the hardened warrior needed to be held in times of sorrow. At this moment all he could think about was stealing you away, keeping you safe in his home, protecting you from the dangers of this world forever. He needed more, desperately and as soon as possible.

Neteyam pulled himself up, with a new found confidence he ran home. It was time he talked to his parents about finding a potential mate.

The talk went about as well as Lo’ak claiming his ikran. He mentioned he had found someone, and he was prepared to finally choose a mate. His parents rejoiced, the proud look they reserved for him finally returning. Until he mentioned that it was you, and the light drained from their eyes, the colors fading from their faces.

Neteyam’s idea was shot down faster than he could manage to speak it. You had an avatar body in that damn lab and he knew it! You could easily become one of the people like his father and be his mate. Why was his mother so against it? His father at the very least gave it some thought before succumbing to his mother’s rants.

It wasn’t her fault she was traumatized, but it was hypocritical considering his father was an alien when she met him. Fine, Neteyam was used to a challenge and he would claim you before they had another chance to say no. Hopefully this time around his love for you would override his fear of disappointing his parents.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next time he came across you was far after eclipse, everyone in his home was fast asleep while he made his move. It was incredibly hard to sneak out of the camp, even harder to sneak into the human camp. Your stupid cameras and metal monstrosities make it nearly impossible to creep through, let alone into you. Neteyam vaguely remembered where Lo’ak claimed you slept, in moments like these he was grateful his brother had his back.

The more he tiptoed around the camp the angrier he became, were you even real or was that a fever dream? He stumbled onto a group of tree metal homes stacked against each other. Carefully, he peeked his head into each one searching you out. To his disappointment the first two were occupied by a snoring Norm and a drooling Max. It took him one more attempt before he finally saw your sleeping figure.

You were so adorable, all bundled up in the things called sheets and holding a pillow tightly to your chest. It made his soul melt at the sight, Neteyam wasted no time welcoming himself inside, pushing the first door open and closing it tightly behind him. If he let any air in from the outside you may die before he got the chance to touch you again. Thankfully, the next door was easier and much quieter than the first.

Neteyam had to crouch as he approached you, ignoring how terrifying he probably looked. He outstretched one of his long fingers to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, admiring the peaceful view in front of him. If Ewya allowed it he could stay and watch you sleep all night but your air was already taking an effect on his lungs.

“Yawne… wake up,” he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, urging you awake. You were an incredibly light sleeper, your eyes shot open and you jumped back as if you were about to scream. Neteyam quickly shoved a hand over your lips, bracing the back of your head with the other before it crashed against the wall. “Shhh, shh yawne, it’s Neteyam.”

You crooked your head to the side, watching him closely. Obviously pondering why he invaded your space at such a late hour. “Neteyam,” you murmured into his hand, confirming if this was a dream or reality. A wide grin blessed his features, “good morning, baby girl.” He heard that nickname from his father, and by the blush on your cheeks it worked quite well. “What are you doing here?”

You rubbed your eyes, gazing out the window, “it’s after eclipse...” you drawled into a yawn. His entire body language shifted, excitement coursing through his veins. “I’m always too busy during the day to visit so I thought now would be the perfect time.” You sat up on your bed, he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face again. His eyes were completely memorizing, and he touched you with the gentleness only your mother did. “O-okay.”

Neteyam smiled at you with such kindness, even with his size you didn’t feel threatened in slightest. “I thought since you never get to go out I would take you tonight. Of course, you would be under my protection the entire time.”

Your face lit up, you could finally leave and see what’s outside these dull walls. But at the back of your head the sound of your mother's voice telling you what not to do rang strong. The fear of disappointing her was even stronger and the fear of potential punishment. “I- I can’t.”

“No one will find out, I promise.” His amber eyes peered up at you with the same heart wrenching expression as the other day. “You wouldn’t want to make me sad, would you? I- I just thought you would want to spend time with me.” It was manipulative, he knew but it worked flawlessly with you. Neteyam would make up for this one transgression later. “Fine, just wait for me outside please. " you said in a nervous whisper.

Neteyam didn’t take his eyes off you as you slid into your “outside” clothing, at some point he would need to get you actual ones instead of the odd human fabrics that cover too much. You hastily slipped your mask on, taking in a deep breath as you did. He hated that thing, hopefully soon he could get rid of it. A very subtle, almost unnoticeable feeling of butterflies filled your stomach as you exited the lab.

“You ready, baby?” The word sounded foreign on his tongue but music to your ears. You nodded in excitement, letting Neteyam grasp your hand and pull you along. He was gentle with you no matter how much excitement was coursing through his veins. You moved in unison through the thick leaves, granted he whisked you off your feet anytime you seemed to falter. The farther away from the encampment you got, the happier you became.

The forest was naturally lit with bioluminescent flowers, vines, and grasses of all kinds. The noise of animals coming out to play filled your ears and for once it did not frighten you. Neteyam was basking in your joy, your voice carried only the excitement of someone innocent to this world. And when you glanced at him? It felt like Ewya herself had sent you to make his heart ache.

To avoid any possible maimings or accidental injuries he kept you very close to him. If Neteyam’s arm was not around you then his hand was on yours. The warmth you radiated felt like his only life source. To your surprise, he was naturally funny and laid back. You had only assumed he was cold, stern and serious, this must be a side of him he only showed a few.

You spoke with him more than anyone, babbling about everything you saw, heard or felt. It may seem obnoxious to others but to him it was like a melody being played by a flute. Each time you squeezed his fingers he felt the blood rush to his head, pounding at his skull in the most beautiful way. You had completely and irrevocably captured his heart.

As the evening progressed the original point of this journey was almost lost to the daze you put him in. Instead of immediately taking you to the sacred place he opted for the stream where you originally found him, you could call it a second, better, impression. It was memorizing in the eyes of a girl who never got to leave her cave of comfort. The fish glowing beneath a gentle stream, a waterfall glistening under the light of several moons.

But this place would be the start of your inevitable downfall. It started off as a dare that turned into swimming half nude with a man twice your size. You let the water flow past you, cradling your body in its warmth. Neteyam was a better swimmer than you, granted you had never gotten the chance before. You chased him in circles below the surface, quickly becoming distracted by the fish that swam by.

The orange was your favorite, reminding you of the sunset. His favorite was the yellow, said it reminded him of you because yellow was the color of happiness and you made him happy… It was a very sappy way of flirting but it worked. Neteyam spent most of his time indulging you on what you wanted or asked the entire night and he did not mind for one second.

You asked him personal questions no one else dared to, further carving your way into his soul. If he thought he knew what love was before he was terribly wrong. Whatever you were doing to him was much worse in all the right ways. It was about the time he came to the realization, staring into your eyes and seeing your future together, you started to nod off. Your eyes become droopy, yawns escaping your throat every other sentence.

Neteyam would stay like this forever if he could, drowning in your existence. Your health was more important to him though and you desperately needed sleep to survive. You tried to fight him off when he said it was time to go, whining to stay here forever. It was cute, and he almost didn’t make you leave, until another adorable yawn left you.

He whisked you off your feet without protest, wrapping your legs around him so he could carry you home. You felt embarrassed at first, realizing you probably looked like a baby being carried by their mother. But then you began to feel his breath on your neck sending goosebump down your spine, long fingers wrapping around you to keep you in place. The low, deep, whisper of his voice telling you sweet nothings echoing in the walls of your mind.

A new sensation washed over you as Neteyam’s lips brushed against your ears ever so slightly. A sweet ache between your legs that progressively got worse the longer he held you. You attempted to pull away, embarrassed he could feel the heat, but he easily overpowered you. Neteyam was determined to keep you in place, as close to him as humanly possible.

He paused his stride, gazing at you for a moment and then back to the forest ahead. You avoided his eyes, but you could feel the smirk creep onto his face. He didn’t say anything on the way home, deep in thought it seemed. However, you could hear his breath becoming ever so slightly heavier.

Neteyam should be a good little soldier and take you home and feign ignorance. He noticed every sound, every look, every smell, every movement coming from you. The warm feeling across his waist that was driving him to the brink of insanity. His own arousal was bound to be noticed the second he put you down… How far could he go with you before he was stopped? You wanted him and why should he not give you what you wanted?

Sneaking back inside the second time was easier than the first, and this time he intended to stay a little longer than necessary. You were drowsy, too tired to change yourself into dry clothing. You probably told yourself he was used to seeing people in less clothes and that it was nothing to Neteyam. Oh how wrong you were. He managed to keep quiet though, attempting to avoid the thing between his legs.

“Time for bed, yawne.” You threw yourself onto the bed, melting into the mattress. Sleep evaded you, the wetness between your legs making it unbearable to get comfortable. To your surprise, he climbed on top, hovering mere inches from your face. “You okay, baby girl?” His ears twitched, Neteyam’s tail betraying his thoughts. There it was again, the foreign nickname that rolled off his tongue like honey.

You crossed your legs together tightly, “I-I’m okay.” He cocked his head to the side, bringing a finger up to brush your face. “I can help you if there’s something wrong,” he purred. You gulped, opening your legs ever so slightly to make a little more room, but that only made the ache worse. His knee found its place between your thighs, applying pressure to the one place you were trying to avoid.

You turned away and evaded his gaze. You felt like a complete idiot, a grown woman acting like a horny teenager, it was disgusting! However, when you looked back at him he was still looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask for his help. His knee moved forward once more, you bit your lip to avoid the sound attempting to escape. “I can show you what helps me, yawne.”

He whispered lowly, you didn’t have time to think, or reply before his lips were connecting to yours. You attempted to push him back, tell him no, this was wrong, and you could get in so much trouble. But the feeling of his legs between yours was easing whatever plagued you. A sound of pleasure escaped you before you could stop it, and that seemed to embolden him.

His lips pressed harder against yours, the sweetness of his mouth made your mind hazy. Neteyam’s tongue found itself entangled with yours, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment. The feeling of need was quickly becoming too much so you moved your hips against him, desperately trying to release the pressure.

Neteyam chuckled into your mouth, his fangs glistening in the light. “All you had to say was your problem was down there,” he purred. “I can fix that for you,” Neteyam’s voice turned into an exhilarating whisper, sending chills down your spine. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers gently slipping inside your waistband, hovering over the spot you really wanted him.

You grabbed his hand, your nerves getting the best of you. “W-what if someone finds out.” Neteyam moved forward, cupping your pussy . It was so wet and desperate for him, how could he stop? “I won’t tell if you don’t.” You closed your eyes, nodding your head. Neteyam kissed you once more, this time more rough than before. Internally, he hoped everyone would find out.

He slipped his finger inside of you, his eyes growing wide at how tight you were. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, and you were practically throbbing. Neteyam’s fingers were large enough to easily reach your sweet spot, stretching you out as he added another. You clenched around him, a high pitched sound leaving your lips.

He groaned at the sight of you, you were far too good to be true. Neteyam leaned down, gently nipping at your neck and sucking on your pulse point. His fangs occasionally gliding across your sensitive skin. Neteyam continued to pleasure you, fingers moving at a steady rhythm, a pace he knew he could keep up for hours.

You bit your lip to hold back your whines, each breathy exhale turning into a high pitched moan. The sound was like music to Neteyam, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, tasting your skin as he left marks. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, in one way or another.

His thumb began to circle your clit, thankfully human anatomy was similar to his own. His tail wrapped around one of your legs, pulling it to the side, allowing him more access. You gripped onto him, burying your face in his chest to hide the embarrassment of the sound leaving your lips.

Neteyam kissed your forehead, nuzzling you softly as he quickened his pace. You clenched tightly around his fingers, bucking your hips against his hand, riding it out as much as possible. Neteyam had you pinned under him, mercilessly trying to pull out your orgasm. He was almost certain he would cum in his loincloth.

"You're doing so well for me, baby girl." He purred into your ear, his tongue darting across it as his hand worked you. His fingers consistently applying pressure at the spongy spot inside of you. His thumb continued to move across your clit, working it to match the pace. You gripped tightly to his broad shoulders, rolling your hips against his hand as you felt your body begin to give way. "Oh, I-I-I..."

“Hmm? Baby girl I can’t hear you.” His breath was hot on your neck. “S-sgood, Teyam,” your new nickname for him made him groan. His fingers continued to move, making your words come out more high pitched and incoherent than before. He nipped at your neck, biting it and sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

He didn't want to stop, he didn't want this moment to end. The feeling of your warm cunt tightening around him as your body tensed. Your nails digging into his shoulders, you back arching and hips bucking. His hand moved at a steady pace as your body began to unravel, letting yourself go. The euphoric feeling washing over you like a tidal wave.

Neteyam took his time as he eased you through it, gently bringing you down as he whispered sweet nothings. He peppered kisses across your face, murmuring how good you were to him as you relaxed. "Good girl," he whispered. He carefully removed his fingers, and your body mourned the loss of him. “You did so good for me, yawne.”

Your body was limp underneath him, your weighted breaths slowing. “I’m so tired,” you murmured. Shh, go to sleep, yawne. I’ll clean you up.” And he did exactly what he said, unsurprisingly. He took the time out of his night to carefully clean up the mess he made on your body and clothes. It was pathetic to admit but at some point, he came in his loincloth, and it was leaking out onto your sheets.

Neteyam watched you sleep peacefully until the light began to shine into the camp. He rushed back home and thankfully, no one noticed his disappearance. This became a routine between the two of you, and Lo’ak became his best wingman. He pretended to not know anything, made excuses, and visited you pretending like he wasn’t just going so Neteyam had an excuse to follow. For once he was very grateful his little bro was the way he was.

Things were looking up for you as well, Now you got to leave the human lab more often and you got to watch him train with the other boys. A few people noticed the way you watched him and how he watched you, the way he moved if you moved. It was kept quiet, as far as anyone knew you had no relationship. Neteyam was always teaching and showing you exciting new things, making you laugh constantly, showering you with affection you received from no one else. He worshiped you in a way you never thought possible.

Neteyam was completely beside himself, and it was going to kill him eventually. You told him you loved him, were proud of him and he was so much more than just the perfect son. You liked him for the reasons no one else did, seeing him for how he truly was and wanted to be. It was no wonder he was infatuated by your existence.

Neteyam, thankfully, found enough self-control to not fuck you. To do enough to keep you attached to him but not enough to ruin you completely. He was pretty positive he wouldn’t even be able to fit inside you anyway. It didn’t change the fact he thought about it every single day. It was hard to explain the things he was feeling but he knew he was stuck to you. Without you he wouldn’t be able to breathe, eat, or sleep like he used to. Neteyam’s existence would become completely meaningless without your presence.

But for now, it was new and perfect. Shiny like a freshly carved toy bound to break.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

All good things come to an end, you learned that after Quartich had returned and Neteyam was being stolen away to a reef clan too far from you. The moon stopped its rotation, all of the life you had being stolen away after he uttered the words goodbye. It was an indescribable pain, unrelenting and all consuming. It took weeks for you to be able to leave your bed, for the nightmares to cease, but the thoughts of him haunted you at every waking moment.

The only place you could find him was at the river, in memories. A part of you wished to go back, to have never left the lab and stayed oblivious to his existence. In your heart you knew he was bound to carve his place into it one way or another. Neteyam used to say how he prayed to the great mother for you and Ewya always finds a way. Day and night blurred together, you stopped counting the hours and let them fly past you. In your darkest moments you repeated a chant to yourself, a prayer almost, One day, Neteyam will come back for you.

He cried, a pathetic display, in front of his parents to bring you with. Neytiri was disgusted, but not enough to hate you as much as spider. He took that as a small win in a losing battle. Jake never faltered on his stance, only family could come unless you wished to put yourself in danger. All he received for his pleas was sympathy from his siblings and a harsh scolding from his parents. It felt as thought his heart had been torn from his chest, the air sucked out of his lungs. You would be here alone, without him, doing all the things you should be doing with him. Neteyam would be stuck in the middle of the ocean with strangers on a droll island.

He did not adapt to the way of water like Lo’ak did. His brother had finally found an environment to thrive in but he was completely lost without you. It was becoming harder to maintain the perfection his father strived for. Even whilst in mourning he had to care of everyone, protect them, comfort them and receive none of it in return. It was a hard life to live but what other choice did he have?

Neteyam only ever felt happy again when he drifted off in his sleep. He was always with you in his dreams, feeling, touching, hearing and smelling you again. For a few hours each night he was back in your room making stupid jokes and listening to rave about your newest discovery. It was always sunny in his dreams, even when it was nightfall. Each time Neteyam closed his eyes it was as if he was in the promised land… but everyone has to wake up eventually.

To ease the eternal ache, he started pleasuring himself more often. It would be a sad sight if anyone ever caught the once mighty warrior stopping to such levels but desperate times called for desperate measures. Neteyam fully intended on stealing you away one day, human or avatar body he didn’t care anymore. If anyone was against you he would kill them… except his own blood, of course.

When he connected to Ewya he saw you, crouched down by your mother in a body he didn’t recognize. Oh, your avatar, your mother is finally allowing you to use it. You were still ethereal in the new body, still tiny, but you looked much more like him. You felt so close to him, your warmth radiating through the connection. He was at peace again, for a limited time only. Neteyam was dragged away the second he felt a shift in the water… Kiri

“We’re leaving… now!” You scrambled to grab the med supplies before you leaped onto the helicopter. For all that it was worth, you hoped Kiri was okay. Still, a very selfish, disgusting, part of you was glad you now had an excuse to visit Neteyam. Norm wouldn’t allow you to go in Avatar form, too early to tell if it would last the long journey ahead. You nervously picked at your fingernails the entire way there, she would okay you knew it.

Neteyam could only watch as your little form rushed past everyone to get to his sister. He never left her side or yours for that matter, choosing to stay outside and watch you work. He couldn’t put into words how grateful he was for you, for the effort you were devoting to his family, to saving his sister. He felt a sliver of happiness just watching you again, seeing that you were alive and well.

You hadn’t given him the time of day though, too busy checking Kiri’s pulse and giving her an IV. If you were being honest with yourself this didn’t appear to be a normal human illness. Almost all people can wake up from seizures naturally, almost, as she wasn’t waking up at all. You didn’t know as much about Ewya as everyone else but if this happened whilst she was connected to the tree… then it was probably due to that.

Of course, you hadn’t voiced this out loud in fear of insulting Norm and his hard work. Also, Neytiri breathing down your neck had you too scared to move, a good mother, but a very scary woman. Eventually, you were all kicked out and you nearly fell on your face rushing onto the woven walkways. They were much more bouncy than you expected but a rather large Metkayina boy caught you before you dived head first into the ocean.

“You should be more careful, alien.” You gazed up at him with wide eyes, he was even bigger than Teyam! The last word was in Na’vi but you knew very well what it meant. Luckily, it wasn’t filled with disdain like it usually was, rather disappointment paired with curiosity. A strange thing you did notice was his hand remained on your shoulder, was this normal? “Thank you…” His head raised, eyes scanning you cautiously, “It’s Aonung.”

The crowd around the marui had finally begun to disappear and Neteyam was able to release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stood up from his crouching position, thanking ewya for saving his sister and welcoming her back to the land of the living. It was times like this he was grateful his dad pushed him so hard, if he was too weak, too careless, she could very well be dead.

Neteyam slowly stalked out of the marui, lost in his own thoughts. He knew you would love the ocean, the water, the creatures, and all of the plants you fawn over. His dream was to be able to show you it eventually, under more positive circumstances. For now, he would accept showing you what he could whilst you remained here. A childlike smile graced his features as he looked around, head turning in all directions to spot you.

“I’m going to kill him,” his eyes twitched and Neteyam’s hands unconsciously balled up into fists, granted they were not the same as those with four fingers. Aonung was touching you, talking to you as if you weren’t an alien. After all the bullshit he’d done to his siblings he had the nerve to touch you? He felt the bile in his gut rise to his throat as you smiled at something he said. “It’s a waste of time,” Lo’ak appeared beside him and if he was in his right mind Neteyam would have demanded to know where he has been.

Except he wasn’t in his right mind. “Fish lips,” his younger brother mumbled under his breath before turning to go into the marui where Kiri rested. Jealousy, rage, hate, hurt, Neteyam couldn’t put a name to everything that was boiling inside, but it was too much. You hadn’t even fucking glanced in his direction the entire night. Before he knew it his feet had carried him right behind you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

“Teyam,” you exclaimed, more excited than you have been in months. Your smile fell when you noticed the way his eyes were staring daggers into the water boy, enemies perhaps? “Back off,” he gritted through his teeth as he poked at Aonung’s chest. Obviously, this wasn’t a fight the other was interested in. He glanced at you with a raised brow, if he had a brow, and back at your Teyam.

“Okayyy then,” he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “It was nice meeting you, human.” Aonung spoke to Neteyam more than you, his smirk directed only at him. You swore you heard him growl lowly, maybe the heat was getting to your head. He didn’t move as he watched the fish boy walk away, his tail swaying violently behind him. “Neteyam?” You turned to him, staring at his face after what felt like centuries.

“Teyam-” you were cut off as his hand wrapped around your wrist, literally dragging you away from the camp. You protested at first, slamming your fist into his arm, offended by how he was behaving. Did the reef people make him cruel? “Let. Me. Go!” you shouted at him, but your cry fell on deaf ears. The grip he had on you wasn’t bruising but his strength far outmatched yours and this was completely unfair. You whipped your head around to watch where he was taking you, the sandy beach quickly turning into heavy shrubbery.

It was beautiful at the very least, you told yourself to remain positive. There hasn’t been a time where you’ve seen Neteyam this angry, especially at you. He paused in his steps when he felt you were now far enough away from everyone. Neteyam let your hand fall to your sides, taking a deep breath, “you!” You flicked when he raised his voice, your fear only heightened at your sheer size difference. "Y-yea, me."

Neteyam huffed, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze piercing though you. “Why haven’t I seen you all evening” Normally, he kept all of his feelings under check, making sure to never express them in case they would upset someone else. Now, the anger radiated off of his shoulders and his words dripped with malice. His question came out as more of a demand, and you could feel your own anxiety spike up. “I was helping Kiri.”

“Helping? You were too busy swooning over fish lips to help anyone.” The words fell from his mouth faster than he could process, regret immediately flooding his system. You wished the ground would open up and Ewya would swallow you whole. “I- I-'' you choked on your own words, tears welling in your eyes. “You don’t love me anymore?” Your damned mask began to fog as you stumbled over your words.

Neteyam's hands were around your shoulders before you could even react, pulling you into him, “don’t cry please, you’ll suffocate to death.” His tone was gentle and he spoke softly, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. The tears came quicker now and your heart hurt. His large hands ran up and down your back in an attempt to calm you down.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't mean to," You sniffled, attempting to keep the tears in your eyes. Neteyam didn’t mean to make you cry, although seeing you like this for him was far better than watching you with the other. Shit, was this manipulation? He dropped down on his knees so you could almost be the same height, placing his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Shh, I still love you. I would never stop loving you. No matter the time we spend apart or the distance between us, you’re in my heart forever, yawne.”

He always knew the right things to say, it made your heart swell and warmth fill your body. Neteyam could make the worst situations feel okay. "I-I," Neteyam placed a hand over his heart, "you don’t need to say anything to me, I've upset you." You sniffled "I still love you too," Neteyam released a deep breath, his face turning stern once more. “Let me prove to you how much I care about you.”

It took minutes before you were laid out on the sand, your pants long discarded. Neteyam had your legs over his shoulders, devouring you. Your toes curled against the cool beach as the wind blew through your hair, the breeze from the water chilling the heat radiating off of you. It was a new sensation, his tongue rubbing circles around your clit. The feeling was foreign and intense, sending jolts throughout your body.

Your hips bucked as his fingers prodded at your entrance, forcing all three inside as an attempt to stretch you more. Neteyam growled in response, the noise sending vibrations throughout your core. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling against the top of you to press into the soft spongy spot that had you crying out. Neteyam lapped at the wetness leaking out of you, drinking up every single drop of you.

His eyes met yours, you felt as if the whole world was spinning, a euphoric feeling bubbling inside you, building and building. Neteyam's tongue pressed against your clit once more and you felt the orgasm ripple through you, your walls contracting against his fingers and squeezing them. The pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn't do much but writhe and cry out as Neteyam brought you down from your high, licking you clean of your mess.

He pulled away and you whined at the loss of his body heat, until you heard the sounds of his loincloth falling to the ground. You pulled your head up off the ground and gasped, he was large, incredibly too large for you. His tip was a bruising purple, shining with precum. Your eyes nearly burst out of your skull, it looked painfully hard as his veins popped out. “T-teyam-”

Neteyam climbed on top of you, shushing you with his finger. “I’ll be gentle I promise,” he purred, his hand snaking down to his tip, rubbing the sticky liquid around the head before placing himself at your entrance. “I’m gonna claim you, mark you with my scent so no one else fucking touches you.” The head of his cock prodded at your entrance and the pressure was intense, your walls achingly slow stretching to fit him. "I can't," Neteyam pushed the head of his cock into you, forcing a choked cry from your lips. “Shh, just be a good girl for me.”

It hurt, yet it felt good in the most bizarre way, a tingling sensation shooting through your body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside you. “Oh ewya, you’re so fucking tiny, baby girl,” he groaned as he pushed deeper. His cock was stretching your walls, the pain slowly disappearing as you grew used to his size. You could feel him against the very base of your cervix, his hips pressing flush against your thighs. “F-f-fuck,” you choked out in a choked whimper, trying to get accustomed to his girth and length, it had to be the size of your forearm at least.

Neteyam began to pump into you slowly, giving you a few seconds to adjust to his length before snapping his hips and forcing the air out of your lungs, causing you to scream and arch your back. You couldn't believe the noises coming out of your own mouth, the moans and cries echoing around the beach. Neteyam moved painfully slowly, thrusting himself in and out of you.

He used one of his large hands to press against your stomach, feeling his cock move inside of you. “You feel that, yawne?I can feel myself moving inside of you. Fuck, you're so perfect, sweetheart, taking all of me inside you.” He hissed as his movements got faster and more erratic. The feeling was indescribable, the mixture of pain and pleasure that had your head spinning and mind hazy.

Neteyam couldn’t fit all of himself in you no matter how hard he tried, he settled for slamming into the top of your cervix, forcing a scream from your lips. He hoped everyone could hear you screaming his name from miles away. “You like that, baby?” Neteyam growled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, clawing at his shoulders. “Ssyes teyam, sgood,” you slurred your words, feeling the waves of euphoria begin to roll inside of you again.

His thrusts started to become faster, and your mind began going numb. Your cunt clenched around him as your eyes welled with tears. “Teyam, p-please. Please!" You stuttered between moans and whimpers. Neteyam wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing softly. "That’s my girl,” his praise made you whimper for more. His cock was throbbing inside you, his seed threatening to spill at any moment. "Louder, yawne. Everyone has to know you’re all mine," he growled into your ear, putting emphasis on 'mine’. Your entire body was going limp beneath him.

Neteyam removed his hand from your neck, wrapping his arm underneath your legs, spreading them as far as they could go and angling you so that he hit the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you, pounding against it rapidly. Your vision started to turn blurry and you felt yourself begin to fall over the edge again, a new kind of wave washing over you, “F-Fuck! Tey- teyam- please in for me!"

Your cunt clamped down around him, forcing Neteyam to cry out, his thrusts becoming shallow and erratic. You could feel Neteyam release inside of you, ropes of hot cum filling your insides, mixing with your own fluids.

The sound of a twig snapping nearby pulled you both out of your haze, “Neteyam!” Jake’s booking voice echoed around the beach. Both of your heads shot to the left, staring at the mortified father whose eyes were boring into you. Oh, you were completely fucked.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The walk of shame you both endured was the most humiliating moment of your entire life. It was an excruciating silent trip back home but at the very least Jake waited until you boarded the helicopter, with a traumatized look on his face, before he called your mother. Without a doubt he told Neytiri soon after and you could only imagine her utter rage. Norm and Max said nothing, opting to stare out the window and dissociate from the entire situation completely. You were extremely grateful for their silence.

You couldn’t imagine the scolding he was about to receive, the punishment he was going to endure. Your mom, although mortified, let you off the hook easily. No avatar for another month, and no Neteyam for the rest of eternity. That one hurt, you felt the same soul crushing despair as you did when he first left.

On the other side of Pandora Neteyam remained completely unphased. He took the yelling, the punishment and everything else like a strong man. In the end he had won, you were covered in his scent and no one was going to touch you again. As for your future together? He had a plan for that too. Neteyam had already practically mated with you no matter what his mother said and once you’re in that new body, he would run away and do it again.

You may not realize it yet but he was coming back for you. One way or another you were going to come to the reef with him, be a part of his family, bear his children, and never ever leave his side again. Even if it meant disappointing his parents one final time, but he had hope in Ewya that would not be the case.

[hedgehog-moss]

I meant to do some greenhouse cleaning and tidying today because my mum is coming to visit and I don't want to be judged. It involved finally bringing myself to say goodbye to my moribund basil plants (by turning them into pesto) among other things—but my plans were derailed when I took down one of the aquaponics towers and heard a big splash. I thought I'd disturbed a fish that was napping amid the plant roots in the water, but no.... I looked into the fish tank and saw a big frog indignantly swimming away.

I went to get a little dip net and spent a solid half hour trying to fish the frog out—she swam so fast! And was really determined to stay in the fish tank, even when I told her I would put her outside somewhere watery and nice where she could meet frog friends. But I did catch her in the end.

I'd never seen a completely black frog before! When I googled for more info, all I found were photos of the (amazing) African rain frog, which one website compared to an angry avocado.

Back to my tank squatter—she was delicately placed on the edge of the barrel that collects spring water in the pasture and invited to start a new life here, and she morosely sat for quite a while, mulling over her options.

I'm not even lying to you, frog: I found a beautiful toad in the pasture some time ago... I'm moving you from a place of existential alienation (lone frog in fish tank) to a hot spot of batracian life.

I tried to film the moment when the frog accepted her fate and gracefully jumped into the barrel but of course I started filming just a second too late and she refused to come back for a second take. In the meantime, every pasture dweller had noticed that something interesting was happening, and converged towards me. When they found my hands and pockets empty of snacks their reactions ranged from sharp betrayal to distant melancholy.

Pirlouit looked so sad in the rain staring at the horizon, pondering the inherent unfairness of life, I ended up letting him sniff the dip net, like, did you actually WANT to eat a frog?

I know, but this one was too large for you.

Poldine was the only one who didn't resent me for visiting them with a frog and no snacks; she was just happy for the opportunity to kiss someone's cheek.

When I went home and looked at my frog pictures I realised there was an apple floating in the barrel ! which I hadn't seen since I was too focused on the frog. The apple tree has shed nearly all of its fruit by now, it must be one of the last apples of the year... And since entering the pasture with a poor slimy excuse for a snack in my dip net had clearly made a dent in my approval ratings, I decided to go back and offer llamas & donkey the apple along with some vegetable peelings.

Pandolf was intrigued when I fished an apple out of the barrel; he sat down in front of me the way he does to signal that he is a good dog and possibly deserving of good things; but UNLIKE SOME he wasn't disappointed with me when he realised the thing I was holding wasn't meant for him because the world doesn't revolve around him.

.... approval ratings skyrocketing 📈

Look at Pirlouit in the background, startled and horrified as he realises he left the scene to soon!

Look at him leaving a cloud of dust behind him as he rushes towards us!

Don't worry Pirou, I saved you a whole half courgette <3 You can drop the tragic misunderstood persecuted look now.

[bonefall]

Clear Sky is a Monster.

Of all the characters in Warrior Cats, I think Clear Sky was the most heavily mishandled.

At every turn, the narrative begs you to sympathize with him, to "understand" the "misunderstood." To this end, his brother Gray Wing is used to "keep faith" in his inherent goodness, his abused son, Thunder, is forced to go back to him over and over, and his second dead wife is completely lobotomized in death to absolve him of all sin.

Because of this, of all this set-up for the "redemption" arc they're trying to tell in the last three books, DOTC is Clear Sky's story. Everything primarily exists to benefit and serve his arc. Thunder and Gray Wing might have POVs, but HE is the character who truly drives the plot. So in order to HAVE conflict for that back half, two evil foreign cats, Slash and One Eye, are summoned to act as contrast.

Their narrative purpose is to display "true evil" to make Clear Sky look less bad in comparison. Unfortunately, Clear Sky is the most malignant, deadly character who has ever blighted Warrior Cats.

The "pure evil" examples they summon aren't effective contrasts because they're flat. Clear Sky is what real abusers look like.

His rhetoric is what it sounds like when a cult leader is trying to keep control over a group. He lies when it benefits him, justifies his actions with his tragic backstory to assuage his guilt and manipulate others, and violently lashes out when his feelings are hurt before blaming his victim for making him angry.

He only made "some mistakes" in that SOME of his actions were accidents-- the vast majority of them were malicious, self-absorbed, intentional choices to punish, hurt, and kill others.

I've spoken about Bumble. I've tallied his body count next to Tigerstar. I've talked about how his infant son's death was his fault in sequel books, and called attention to the infected wound face shoving scene that no one talks about. I can't fit every detail into a single post-- because he's so rancid that I would practically be posting entire books.

So what I want to do here is tackle the heart of Clear Sky. Everything he does, everything he's motivated by, is absolute and utter control over other people. He leverages his "trauma" to evoke empathy from his targets to make them easier to manipulate. He's a dirty liar. He breaks down to physical violence when all other tactics stop working.

He's one of the most severe and realistic abusers I've ever read about outside of very adult literature-- and when I read the reasons why he's attracted to Star Flower, my stomach immediately lurched.

The Killing of Misty

Starvation Rhetoric and the Memory of Fluttering Bird

Aside; a question

Hunger as a punishment; he doesn't care about starvation

Exoneration arc

Predation: Star Flower is a replacement for his son.

I think that index is an evocative content warning. But to say it again; this post contains child and domestic abuse, physical assault, public humiliation, incestuous grooming implications, and a lot of murder.

I need to start with the death of Misty. I see a few people saying that Clear Sky killed her for "being on his land" or trespassing, but this is actually a misstatement that I feel is important to correct.

Misty and her children were on their own land. It was her house. Clear Sky killed her to take it.

This is one of the most important details to remember about Clear Sky, that this is the consistent end point of his obsessive need for power and control. By harassment, by violence, or by death, he will brutalize anyone who does not give him what he wants, or who makes him feel bad, and find some way to justify it.

This territory expansion was for no logical reason. There was plenty of food and plenty of land. Any aggression that's happening on this territory is in response to how he's been stealing land and mauling people.

When it's found out she was fighting to defend her children, Clear Sky's immediate response is to slaughter them too.

Petal doesn't have milk either. It wasn't about the logistics. He wanted to kill the kids, because looking at them made him feel bad, and she just managed to stop him.

Starvation Rhetoric and the Image of Fluttering Bird

It is often said that Clear Sky is doing this because he's "traumatized" from how his little sister, Fluttering Bird, starved to death in the mountains. That the emotion came from wanting to feed people. That's incorrect. It wasn't about food. Fluttering Bird's death, and all the "starvation" he's faced, are used as manipulation tactics to guilt, influence, and control other characters, particularly when he might meet resistance or be held accountable for something.

It was always, ALWAYS, about control.

He does not care about actually helping people; "Starvation Rhetoric" through Fluttering Bird is an image he can invoke to justify the actions that are as bloody and cruel as the one this post starts off with. Either in his own mind, or in the minds of the cats he's manipulating.

He does this to Falling Feather, before slicing her face open in anger when she doesn't buy it. He does it to Rainswept Flower, before he strangles her to death. And he does it in the chapter just before Misty's murder, both to his Clan and then to Thunder,

Clear Sky climbed up in front of an entire crowd and gave a grand speech about hunger and "adjusting" the borders around territory he plans to conquer. When he gets to "forgiveness" he feigns pain to make his point because he is performing. If the sentiment is not a total lie, then at bare minimum, he is intentionally playing this up for the crowd.

He is rallying the Clan to support his violence against the cats whose land he wants to steal, and selling it with his life's hardships.

The audience is clearly well-trained, because several cats recognize the cue, particularly Frost who is praised for loudly comforting him. This signals "loyalty" because showing your sympathy towards his "suffering" is how this type of emotional manipulation works. It creates a persecuted, righteous in-group.

He's also apparently used this tactic before, since this entire crowd knows what "I Would Never Forgive Myself " means.

He's made sycophants out of his followers. Like a cult leader.

His abused son, however, hasn't been fully indoctrinated yet. Seeing Thunder uncomfortable with the idea of expanding the borders for no reason, Clear Sky calls him over for a personal propaganda session.

Clear Sky begins the exchange by calling this a "duty" and a "great honor." Immediately framing what he plans to do as righteous.

He puts on the act when Thunder shows resistance, dramatically pausing to let the guilt trip sink in.

"Thunder waited, realizing that he said the wrong thing."

And then Clear Sky launches into infantilizing Thunder, talking down to him like a child who's too inexperienced to see the "signs of starvation," acting like he's being "patient" in "explaining" it.

And then we get it. "I know what starvation looks like (so stop trusting your own eyes) because I have been through more than you (so shut up and do what I tell you), and I'm being a HERO for what I'm about to do (so opposing me would make you a bad person)."

Thanks to these crocodile tears, looking "moved," the act works. The victim is immediately wracked by guilt because the abuser seems genuinely emotional.

He even lovebombs him over the corpse of Misty in the next chapter, making Thunder feel threatened.

Thunder doesn't have the words to describe what is happening to him, but he knows that this sudden snap to praise isn't natural. That something is very wrong.

A Question.

Before I move on to show that this IS an act, and that he is lying about how important avoiding starvation is to him, I will ask a question. Please think about it, because I promise I mean it genuinely;

Why does it matter if Clear Sky actually believes this or not?

The victims are just as dead either way, yes? Thunder is just as abused and guilt tripped. The entire Clan has been driven towards violence while coddling and cooing at their Supreme Leader. Clear Sky is slowly annexing the entire forest. If you have ever accepted that he had "good intentions" as an excuse for the harm he did, or that abuse and murder was what he imagined was "the right thing," or that his trauma justifies the way he leverages his own pain to make cats do what he wants... why do you think that?

Why does that make it morally better, as the narrative concludes? Would you accept the same for every other WC villain or antagonist? Tigerstar? Slash? Tom the Wifebeater? Brokenstar? Rainflower?

How could you tell the difference, if you couldn't read their actual thoughts on the page? ...are there any other "good intentions" you've accepted, somewhere else?

Don't share that answer with me. It's a question for you. Sit with it.

Hunger as a punishment; he doesn't care about starvation.

...but, regardless, Clear Sky is not deluded about starvation. It's a justification for his obsessive need for control, and always has been. There was no shortage before stealing Misty's land and kits, he is fully aware that there's more prey than they can eat.

He punishes Falling Feather with hunger and harassment for thought crime, by briefly thinking of leaving. But first, he invokes Fluttering Bird at her like he did before, flying into a screeching fit of rage when she doesn't buy it,

"I'm sorry I hurt you... BUT" is THE wifebeater phrase. THE stereotypical line of a domestic abuser. "I'm sorry I hit you... but it's your fault for making me so angry."

She went through the same exact starvation he did, calls out that he's just framing his greed as being for the collective benefit of his subjects, and is assaulted for that.

When we're in his head, we see his REAL concerns are not about hunger. He invoked Fluttering Bird to try and make her shut up and bow down to him; what he's focused on is her "gossiping" and "whining" about the open wound he left on her face. He's still furious at Fircone and Nettle for how Thunder QUESTIONED him. So he will "strengthen their commitment."

When "starvation" DOES enter his thoughts, it is to assuage his own guilt and JUSTIFY what he already did. What he already WANTS to do. It's post-hoc.

He had to suppress his own guilt at how his greed and ambition made these children into orphans, completely unable to admit that he's ever been wrong or has a change to make, so he invokes the starvation rhetoric at himself to excuse it. So he feels less bad.

Everything, EVERYTHING, in this confrontation is about his pleasure at being able to torment his subordinates. To continue the abuse when the initial confrontation is over. If it isn't pride in his power and control over them, it's plain sadism.

He invokes starvation in front of the crowd, again, after being pleasured at the guilt in her eyes, hoping that everyone sees her writhing with shame and embarrassment. Fear wasn't at the root of why he assaulted Falling Feather; rage was, and now he feels better that he got to humiliate the person who offended him.

Starvation Rhetoric is a manipulation tactic.

It goes RIGHT BACK to his twisted idea of "loyalty." Obedience.

A cat who's actually, primarily concerned about starvation wouldn't encourage other cats to steal her food if they feel like it. He wouldn't be using it as a weapon to retaliate against her because she hurt his feelings.

This is paired with the fact he restricts and monitors the diet of his cats. They eat when he allows it, and only what he gives them, in spite of there being piles of dead animals rotting, going to waste.

We then find he personally doles out food from these piles, plucking carcasses off them and flinging them at his cats, one by one. Probably so he can watch how grateful they are to him and make sure they stay a little hungry-- and definitely because it means he can control WHO gets to eat at all.

If Clear Sky chucked a mouse at Falling Feather and someone took it? She would have gone hungry. For not groveling to him. Like when he decides to starve her brother; a hostage who he promised to feed and care for.

He's a dishonest snake. He lied about abandoning baby Thunder, calling it a "test of strength," he lied about Bumble's death, he lied about keeping Jackdaw's Cry fed.

And he lied about starvation to Thunder, because he was just making up an excuse to steal more land.

He wasn't "seeing the signs" of starvation when he moved to "adjust" his borders. Even FURTHER into this so-called "delusional slip" into tyranny, he's freely admitting that it takes months for a person to starve when it benefits his sadistic need to punish undeserving cats.

"Dumb moor cats, always expecting more than they DESERVE."

Not need. DESERVE. It's not a delusion about starvation and it never was. STARVATION is how he CONTROLS SkyClan, and once again he's angry that his pleasure has been sullied.

The massacre at Fourtrees was started over Jackdaw's Cry catching a bat after being starved, on land that Clear Sky has decided RIGHT NOW that he also owns, because it mades him think about being disobeyed.

The bat is forgotten as Clear Sky pivots into a tantrum, wanting to make his family HURT for being 'disloyal' and 'ungrateful.' For leaving him. He LIKES seeing people grovel, cower, and beg, getting PLEASURE from watching how he can hurt and command other cats, and if you don't give him what he wants he will kill you.

Which, make no mistake, is what the "First Battle" actually is. Clear Sky attempting to murder those who don't worship him or swear their undying fealty to him and his twisted dictatorship. Particularly his own son, the most prominent victim of his emotional abuse.

It's not about the bat. It was never even about food or starvation. It's about retaliation for any perceived lack of control.

Once again he breaks out starvation rhetoric to try and manipulate someone, and when Rainswept Flower doesn't buy it just like Falling Feather didn't, he murders her in another fit of entitled rage.

Exoneration arc.

At the end of this battle that was entirely his own fault, we're introduced to the hollowed-out ghost of Storm. She has been flushed of all personality, so that she can be the perfect narrative mouthpiece.

She accepts yet another Fluttering Bird Invocation in spite of how we saw it's not sincere. He was lying the entire time and using starvation rhetoric as a manipulation tactic to get control over his victims.

And that's it.

That's the consequence. Storm's a little mad at him until he says "Buttering Flird" and she swoons.

He doesn't have to be ""afraid"" anymore because the cats just invented an afterlife to believe in. He keeps all of his power and influence and gets off scot-free, because "guilt" (which we SAW him repressing anyway) is supposed to be the best consequence for murder, abuse, and tyranny.

The husk of Storm even materializes again at the end of book 5 to say it outright; he "never drove anyone away." Not even after Book 4 where it's also his fault One Eye took over his Clan for 5 minutes. It was just destiny.

His "redemption arc" is just an exoneration arc. The narrative doesn't think he really did anything wrong.

EVERYTHING about Clear Sky has ALWAYS been about making grabs at power, but since the narrative didn't see a problem with him extorting his personal tragedy and the death of a child, his own sister, he continues doing it. As if these behaviors are normal personality 'traits'.

Even when that sister COMES OUT OF HEAVEN TO YELL AT HIM DIRECTLY,

He finds a way to COMPLETELY miss the point, so he can interpret her words in a bizarrely specific way that will conveniently end with him being the supreme dictator of the entire forest. Just like he ALWAYS does.

It's the entire 5th book. Clear Sky trying to convince everyone, including himself, that it's Fluttering Bird who wants him to grab at power, NOT himself and his own ambition, that THIS time, he promises, for realsies, it's actually about keeping everyone safe.

But just like ALWAYS, because he does not change, when this tried and true tactic manages to work on Thunder, during ANOTHER exchange where he's dramatically pausing and using the cold shoulder to make his pitiable act land harder,

He lapses right back into bullying his child, creating situations where Thunder will have difficulty or be put in pain, so that he can have an excuse to mock and belittle him.

And this all comes to a head when Clear Sky takes romantic interest in Star Flower, his abused son's previous romantic interest.

Predation: Star Flower is a replacement for his son.

Direct parallels are drawn between Thunder and Star Flower. Star Flower contrasts her loyalty to her father to Thunder's "disloyalty" to his own, in an appeal to Clear Sky.

Clear Sky brushes it off for now, citing that he cannot accept her because of who her father was.

But then, Thunder makes the connection between himself and her, because he knows what it is like to be a victim of parental abuse and correctly clocks that they have this in common,

On his vouch, Clear Sky accepts her into the group. She starts trying to offer himself to him; hunting twice as hard as the others, self-imposing harsh conditions like taking a wet sleeping spot. In their second interaction, Clear Sky begins to take interest in her.

Thunder himself points out that Star Flower is seeking an abusive tyrant to replace her own father, which reads like he's deflecting the stress of how his father is abusing him to deny a connection he already made. As if Thunder sees so much of himself in Star Flower that it makes him (rightly) feel sick that his father is romantically invested in her;

Thunder then goes on to follow his own advice and form his own Clan, because Clear Sky IS like One Eye... while Star Flower remains here. At Clear Sky's side. Because she feels like this is what she "deserves," that she "understands" him, truly believing that her crime (warning her father that Clear Sky brought an ambush in case he lost the 1 on 1 death match he requested, which he did) are on the same level as his abuse and murders.

Clear Sky is attracted to Star Flower because, in his own words;

She is young.

She will not betray him.

She won't question him,

and she obeys him.

We've seen what "betrayal" is to Clear Sky-- not taking his excuses or his beatings. To "disobey" is betrayal. To "question" is disobedience.

These are ALL things he's tried to drill into Thunder. We saw him happily exploit their difference in age to tell him he can't have an opinion. He constructed humiliating games in retaliation for ever being questioned. He tried to murder Thunder and his friends for their "betrayal." Even now, being disobeyed causes explosive reactions.

He was previously grooming the things he now identifies as attractive in a young woman into his child.

If your body becomes too useless to serve him, like Frost and Jagged Peak, you're thrown out. If you don't unquestioningly follow his bloody commands, like Falling Feather or Thunder, you're subjected to abuse and public humiliation. If you're in his way, like Misty or Rainswept Flower were, you die.

If you meet all of his expectations...

You will be in a horrific position where you will never have agency over your own life ever again. Every move, every word, will have to be carefully crafted so that he feels like you're "loyal" to him by the arbitrary standard he feels that day. Never step out of line, never doubt his decisions, never live for anyone except him and the children you will give him, not even for a moment, because then you will not be "worthy" of his grace.

Star Flower would be in serious danger if this series wasn't written by abuse apologists. They accidentally wrote a perfect reflection of how child abuse victims often find themselves in unsafe and toxic romantic relationships with large age gaps which mirror what they went through as kids; but this team doesn't clock it, playing this relationship as wholesome and genuine.

He finally has someone who ""understands"" him. Because they think the character they wrote is misunderstood.

but reality is plain to see.

Clear Sky is a monster. The most realistic monster in all of WC-- far, far closer to real life predators and domestic abusers than the "born evil" rogues like Slash and One Eye. The Erins seem to believe that what separates Clear Sky from One Eye is "fundamental" good and "fundamental" evil, when the truth is that they'd be separated by very, very little.

If they had realistic motivations, they would be exactly like the character their existence is meant to excuse.

Slash and One Eye HAD to be kept flat and one-dimensional. If the book was more earnest, the only difference between Clear Sky and One Eye would have been that One Eye is stronger. So strong that Clear Sky needed to manipulate the other groups into helping him.

While anyone can change, not everyone will, and Clear Sky has no reason to. He sees no consequences. He has everything he wants; power, a pretty and obedient young mate, and unchecked authority over a brainwashed forest cult. There is always a victim on a leash, a naive enabler, or a bunch of desperate and gullible marks somewhere in his proximity to bully into doing his dirtywork

Whether his "intentions" were sincere or not (evidence points towards not) at its root it was always about control. Power is something he perpetually keeps, and continues to violently use.