#and sure. maybe i deserve that. maybe we Shouldn't be welcome

[masterofmaagnetism]

loving the hostile pride months these past few years but not how it's targetted almost exclusively towards other queers

[urproblematicfav-arsonk]

Oh so when you're in love with a cannibalistic serial killer sadomasochist who openly admits to helping people just to get the opportunity to push them into failure and suffering 'cause he thinks its funny, its cool and normal and just basic Tumblr Sexyman shenanigans BUT WHEN I'm in love with a gangster murderer, rapist, sex trafficker who drugs people and is a narcissistic stalker I'm suddenly endorsing abuse and am bad wow ok

[joonie-beanie]

A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"

Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.

The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.

Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.

And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.

The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.

“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”

Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself. 

Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.

Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.

The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.

“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.

Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked. 

When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.

He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask. 

Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.

“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”

“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.

“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.

Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”

…

Huh?

“Here.”

Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.

Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.

“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.

Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.

“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”

You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.

“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”

“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.

“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”

You grin, holding your head high.

Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.

“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”

You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.

“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”

Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”. 

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.

Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.

Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building. 

“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.

“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”

“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands. 

“Take this when you go in, that should help.”

“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.

You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.

Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.

Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment. 

Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.

Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?

“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.

“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”

“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”

Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.

“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”

For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.

Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say. 

“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.

Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.

“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”

“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”

Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…

“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”

“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”

Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.

“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”

The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.

“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”

Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.

“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”

Both men look your way. You smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.

“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.

You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.

“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.

Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”

Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.

“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”

“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.

He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket. 

Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.

While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.

By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.

“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”

“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.

So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.

Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.

“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”

How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.

“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”

“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”

You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.

In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.

It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).

However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.

When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”

You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.

“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.

His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.

The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.

“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”

And really, who would pass up that offer?

So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.

Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.

“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”

“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours. 

“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you. 

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.

You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.

As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today. 

From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.

And he seems to be…for the most part.

Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.

Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.

You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).

By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.

Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day. 

He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.

However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.

“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you. 

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.

“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.

After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.

He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.

You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.

Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.

“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.

Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?

Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”

Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.

Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.

“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.

He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.

Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.

As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.

On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be. 

You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.

It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.

So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.

You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.

As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.

In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.

Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.

You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…

You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.

Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright. 

So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.

A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.

In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.

“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.

Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.

And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.

A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat. 

You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.

Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.

Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy— 

“I told you not to return here.”

The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening. 

You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.

“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice. 

“I sent you away for a reason.”

His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks. 

His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm. 

However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.

The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.

“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.

“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”

He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.

“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”

He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.

His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.

Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.

“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”

The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.

“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.

“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”

Run.

Run.

Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back. 

His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.

All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.

You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat. 

Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.

But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him. 

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette. 

You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.

Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.

“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass. 

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay. 

“This is wrong of me…”

The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.

A quiet laugh leaves you.

“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”

Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.

The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.

The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.

Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe. 

Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.

However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.

He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.

He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.

He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—

Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.

You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.

Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.

In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.

The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.

He pries your legs apart. 

You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.

His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.

As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.

His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.

But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.

No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.

The first taste of his meal.

You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.

He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.

And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.

His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours. 

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop. 

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body. 

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm. 

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you. 

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt. 

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head. 

Finally, you're bare beneath him. 

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass. 

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before. 

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger. 

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away. 

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!” 

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much. 

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair. 

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.” 

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you. 

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is. 

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension. 

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole. 

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom. 

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin. 

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours. 

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body. 

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more. 

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go. 

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss. 

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. 

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. 

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts. 

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you. 

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent. 

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips. 

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you. 

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you. 

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you. 

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek. 

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy. 

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station. 

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office. 

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more. 

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes. 

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body. 

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment. 

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze. 

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

[ronearoundblindly]

Not In Front of the Fish...

Jake Jensen x roommate!Reader follow up to Watch the Fish (see previous or JJ Masterlist)

Summary: You've caught Jake doing something he shouldn't, but there's no reason you can't string him along...and along...and along until the line snaps.

Warnings for smut (many references to masturbation, protected sex), horrible puns (yes, hello, I'm Ro, welcome!), heavy innuendo, trolling this poor boi as hard as humanly possible, taking the lord's name in so much vain, kinda *aggressive* foreplay, aftercare, fluff, and whipped!Jake (deserves a warning because I sure as sh*t wasn't prepared 🫠).

Blame @bigtreefest...or thank Essie, ya know, whatevs! No beta, we die drowning in the fish tank. MINORS DNI. And yes, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, the glasses stay on 🤭 Y'all may not realize this but I myself am an ultra-awkward nerd, so I identify with Jake's struggle and yet would absolutely, endlessly tease this mothaf**ka.

"Hey, Jakey. Whatcha doing?"

Well, thank fuck he's not still hard standing there with his metaphorical dick out, the last image from your laptop's screen seared into his eyeballs of some woman taking a load in her open mouth.

"Need me--" you steadily lick vanilla ice cream off a spoon, some caught at the corner of your wide open lips "--for anything?"

He stares. He stares so intently he almost falls over. Apparently, he's leaned into his staring.

"My help, perhaps?"

Your tongue rolls across the edge of the refilled spoon.

He thinks maybe he'll cry if you keep this up, but for the love of Christ, please keep this up.

"No," he squeaks. "Just..." Must you be wearing short-shorts? Is it essential that your tank top dip so low? "...saying 'hi.'"

His hand flings out in a wave, five fingers managing to point in eight different directions because he can't commit to any sort of normal human movement.

"So... Hi."

Some ice cream drips off the spoon down your chin and to your chest.

Jake is not here right now. Jake has died.

"Sure." You wipe up your mess and keep eating. "Sweet dreams, big guy. You look ready to hit the sack after a long...satisfying...shower." You let the spoon dangle from your mouth while brushing past him, which you have to do. You have to touch him because Jake can't fucking move for the life of him, and he swears to god you made your hand sweep across the front of his hip.

He jolts to follow the contact before overwriting his hind brain. His hand slaps the wall as he catches himself trying before collapsing into a begging puddle at your feet.

He should tell you. He'd rather die.

He should admit what he's done, admit what he wants to do, but when he stops pinching his eyes shut for strength, Jake turns to find you bent over in the doorway.

"Hello, sweethearts," you coo to the fish, "what would you like to do this evening? Maybe watch another movie?"

You wiggle your butt and make this happy sort of popping noise that Jake can't unhear.

Fuck, is this a thing he's gonna have to deal with now? Listening to you watching porn? His mind instinctively scans your room for a glimpse of any toy you may have left out. He's dying, yeah, but dying to know what they look like, if he's bigger than whatever you bury inside you now.

"Jake," you repeat in a breathy way that has him swallowing his tongue. You've stood back up, holding a bowl with oozing white liquid that teeters close to the edge as it melts.

His dick could top that off in jiffy if you'd like.

He coughs. "Yeah, uh, what?"

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Fuck me, every muscle, bone, and braincell in his body screams at once.

All he manages is an anatomically-correct impression of a fish. No sound comes up from his desperate lungs. He flees to his room.

He hears you shut your door just as he shoves down the shorts he threw on and grabs a squirt of lotion from the bottle nearby.

Too many images speed through his brain all at once, cum and cream, sex and porn, your open mouth, your presented ass, that peek of cheek beneath soft fabric, the shadow along the seam where the material ran right through your folds--probably, at least, he's filling in gaps wherever he pleases--and the breathy sounds of 'Jakey' 'need me' 'help you' 'satisfying,' and 'anything.'

"Fuck me," he growls out in earnest, sparing no trick to get himself off as fast as possible. Maybe if he's quick he won't learn exactly how hot he finds all this. He already relies on you as the voice in his head.

It's like you're right there on the floor with him, cupping his balls and whispering in his ear.

So hard for me, huh? So heavy and in need of attention. Why did you wait to fuck your fist, Jakey? Had to hear me? Think of this dick filling me better than any toy...

He gasps and groans, shoving his face into the nearest side of mattress to muffle the carnal sound.

It puts his ear right next to his discarded headphones.

"Daddy was so rude just then, huh? I know. He's shy. He'll come see you tomorrow. He just needs to be all alone in his bed when he's tired. I know, I know. It makes mommy sad, too. She doesn't like to be all alone, but that's why I have you. Look at the camera and wish daddy goodnight..."

Oh, fuuuuuuuuck me, Jake wails into his sheets when he hears the sound of you blowing a kiss through the speakers.

Poor thing doesn't know you're torturing him on purpose, but at least he came...with his bare knees aching on the hardwood floor of his room and the nosepiece of his glasses digging into his eye sockets as he buries his shame in his bed.

You suggest he have the fish in his room for a while, like shared custody, but then he knows you would have access to listen to him via the livestream.

If he tells you you have to mute it every time, you'll know he might not have. If he refuses to keep the feed up or the camera functioning, you'll be suspicious of why. If he says fucking anything against your very thoughtful and adorable idea, it'll be a cold day in hell since he will endure all forms of torture just to see your elated smile as the tank is finally setup between his closet and his bed across the room from his desk.

The keystrokes from his work are too faint for the camera's microphone, and he proceeds to wear headphones for music, take calls outside, and never touch himself in his own room for weeks. Ok fine, two, he makes it two weeks.

Deprived of hearing you, which he grew rather dependent on, and needing to inconspicuously lengthen his showers, Jake is a mess.

Why didn't he record anything? Why would he??? He was supposed to get himself together like a man and either ask you out or get the fuck over it.

He even watches (but mostly listens to) porn through his headphones without touching himself in an attempt to fade the memory, but then you show up at his door, asking to visit with the 'kiddos' and checking with the Marauders if 'daddy' is treating them well.

He's not gonna make it, man.

You settle on his bed to read for a while because why the fuck would he say 'no' to you, and this is the part that does Jake in the most: his sheets smell like you after and turning in his desk chair to find you accidentally asleep in his bed just... He can't.

He's unwell thinking about how sweet you are, how fucking horrible he's being by fantasizing about you this way, how if he just had the balls to crawl over to kiss you, he'd--but he doesn't. He just gets worse.

He gets real messed up horny one evening when you're out at some fancy event with friends.

You leave wearing this dress that practically had him on his knees the way it molded to you and yet draped so smoothly in places. He thinks of his mouth molded to you that closely and his body laying so smoothly over yours.

Damn it. He has to do something. He goes into your room, and it's not that bad, he just picks up a t-shirt, that's all. He's not the world's worst perv or anything. It's not underwear, for god's sake, but on a fluke (because he has no idea how long he was in there) he climaxes at the sound of you yelling 'I'm home' from the kitchen and scrambles to the bathroom with his gym shorts wrapped around his thighs, hand still catching spurts of cum as he for sure doesn't calm down, with milliseconds to spare.

Thank fucking god you're slower to climb the stairs in heels.

He takes it back. He is the world's worst perv.

Your t-shirt mysteriously disappears until he can sneak it back into your laundry.

He runs out of floss and absently searches your drawer for--oh my god.

OH. MY GOD.

That...is a large, veiny dildo you have there. Oh fuck.

Jake slams the drawer shut without thinking.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just...just gotta put floss on the grocery list."

"Use some of mine," you call out casually.

"It's fine!" His voice was too high and he answered too fast, but if he's not mistaken, you have now invited him to poke around in your things.

He feels slightly less pervy...and a hell of a lot hornier.

It reaches a point where coming in the shower isn't enough.

He falls asleep ok but wakes restless and craving friction. There's want and then there's need, and Jake fucking needs this or he'll never rest.

He goes on as quietly as possible, thinking that getting up, going to the bathroom, and turning on the exhaust fan will make far more noise than humping his sheets and biting his pillow.

The fish tank glows as usual at the foot of his bed.

Look away, kids, Jake thinks and immediately doesn't know whether to be sick or laugh. Daddy is gonna fucking die like this.

He knows it's pathetic. The entire thing has been pathetic from start to finish, but he's just too tired and too het up to care.

A few whines escape the insulation of his pillowcase. He misses the gentle patter of footsteps down the hall.

There's a soft knock followed by "Jake?"

God damn it. The one time he gives in, and he's already ruined it.

He tucks himself up into the band of his boxers which is not exactly subtle but can't be helped. Jake rolls out of his bed, finding his glasses in the dark to crack open the door with his body strategically behind it.

"Yeah, what's up?"

He can't make out a whole lot in the low light, but you don't say anything. Your arms are spread out to hang on either side of the frame, making your (again) very low-cut tank top his only focal point.

Well now he's sorta worried this has absolutely fuck-all to do with his problem. "Are you okay?"

"I...I thought..."

Your voice is soft and timid. It makes Jake want to wrap you in his arms, but he's still worried that you'll say you heard him and it's not okay and he's gross and this is all way, way out of line.

He holds his breath to better listen.

"I hoped you would have needed me by now."

What. Air rushes out of him like he's been tackled.

Sorry, WHAT?

"What?" the question finally falls out as he leans intensely again, shifting so the door doesn't slam in your face, his bare chest and lower half now visible as much as they can be. "You...what now??"

Your arms fall and you step forward. It looks to him like you move with trepidation, that your head is lowered in embarrassment, that somehow you're shy about your confession. Maybe you are, but only the tiniest amount compared to him.

"Tell me if I'm wrong, Jake." You slap one hand to his chest with a crinkling noise, and he swiftly moves to take the wrapped condom. "Tell me if you don't want this," you continue, lowering your voice and hand until your thumb grazes the exposed head of his cock.

Lightning strikes and super-charges his need.

"But if you don't th--"

He'll be damned if you finish that thought. Jake scoops your jaw into one big hand, angling you just-so, barreling you both into his door as it swings into his closet with a wobbling bang. He's clumsy and his grip goes everywhere to bully you flush with his body yet not drop your timely offering.

His kisses are feverish and sloppy. By the feel of you groping at his back and shoulders, you're not mad about it. He fumbles with the wrapper behind your back. It takes his attention away for a few seconds.

"I prepped for you," you whisper hoarsely. "I'm ready."

Jake has no legs at that point and takes you with him in a heap to the floor. While stripping away his boxers, he realizes his naked ass is high in the air of his room.

All he can see in his mind is fish pressed against the glass, staring, judging. Gah, not here.

He maneuvers into your hold again and says, "hang on," crawling to the hall runner so the 'children' won't see. No, he can't make it any further because his length is snuggled between your fucking thighs and somehow the hallway is a fucking mile long to your room. No, he's not immune to your whines from where your head is tucked in the crease of his neck.

Here's fine.

As gracefully as he can, Jake collapses onto you, collecting the noises he missed so much directly from the source.

For being made of such little fabric, your shorts are in his way, and he's genuinely annoyed to have to lift from you again, even though it's necessary to discard them and necessary to get the now-open condom rolled along his aching cock.

His glasses are already smeared from haphazardly exploring your skin. If Jake couldn't see before, he's all but blind now. The only garment close enough to try and clean them is your tank top, but he ignores it because it's still dark. He needs to feel you more than anything else in the world.

Lightly, your fingertips flicker down his abs and lead him to close the gap between you.

Jake groans as he lines himself up and easily notches into your welcoming heat. As aroused as you are, he still edges himself deeper and deeper in barely-controlled strokes, grabbing the railing at his side for leverage and stability.

He grunts instead of articulating how magnificent you feel. He moans instead of voicing what an utter blessing it is to finally fuck you. He gasps with the rolls of your hips because you taking control while beneath him just...unravels him.

This was too long coming, and he wasn't prepared.

Jake's apology for being fast to finish perches at the tip of his tongue when you cut off his words and the last of circulation to his brain.

You shake and pant, mewling 'yes' and his name, while your body squeezes him like a vice. He's being pumped to completion without moving another muscle, and, good fucking god, he has to hang on, falling to his forearm, keeping his open mouth hovering over yours.

Jake thinks maybe he just drowned and got brought back to life.

Right there, in his face are your precariously covered tits, nipples rock hard and taunting him. He doesn't care what his dick's doing anymore; he wrenches a strap down your chest and lavishes your plush flesh with attention.

Too long coming and in no way prepared... Neither were you.

Your hands brace his head, fingers buried in his short hair as you wiggle and hump at his semi-stiff cock inside you. Jake hisses in over-stimulation but doesn't stop you. He swears he will never, ever stop you.

His attentions on your breasts slow but he can't seem to let you go for a long time, long after your legs fall away from him, limp and twitching.

A pair of goodbye pecks is his parting gift before Jake nuzzles up the column of your neck and takes what little breath you've regained, curling his arms around you as his tongue curls with yours.

When he adjusts again, he realizes how sore he's getting from kneeling on the floor, and sits up to help you, too.

"Let me get--I'll just--"

Jake can almost reach a towel inside the bathroom from this position with his long arms, but he's sure to warm up the tap and trash the condom before returning to gently wipe you. He may have made a quick pass at his lenses in there as well.

You look dazed and delightfully sated, basking in the streak of light from the bathroom, leaning on your palms like you're on a beach somewhere.

"Fuck, you're stunning," he says without thought.

He...lingers a while to clean you up, overtly mapping these bits of you he hasn't seen yet.

"What took you so long?"

Jake tosses the towel up into the sink behind him and manhandles you into his arms.

"I might've ruined everything." He starts to lower you into your bed, but you don't release your arms from around his neck. "You could've kicked me out."

He's not going to argue. He won't say 'no' to you.

"Come here, you dork. You can't keep me waiting anymore."

Jake climbs into the cramped, cozy space with you, mentally noting that a bigger bed is definitely on the shopping list.

A/N: I am strategically leaving out my thoughts on the next morning for now because I'm just too excited, eeeee!

[Next part: Feed The Fish]

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Humble request for a bottom villain x top hero where the villain struggles with insomnia, and out of desperation (and mayhaps horniness), suggests that the hero “help” them fall asleep, if you catch my drift ;) An extra helping of spice with that, thank ye!

“When did it start?” the hero asked. They took off the villain’s shirt and pressed a wet kiss to the villain’s neck.

They could be quite straightforward when they wanted to be. The villain welcomed the candor, they found it quite refreshing when the hero told them a plan was full of logical errors or that the villain’s actions were unacceptable.

“Like…” The villain tried to think but it was getting more difficult with the hero levelling their weight on the villain’s hips and leaving a path of kisses up their neck. “…fuck, I don’t know. Like, two months ago?”

The hero paused with the kisses and looked at the villain with a hint of a frown on their face.

“Two months?” they asked. The villain could see their chest heave rhythmically and it was, stupidly, demanding a little too much attention.

“Yeah…”

“Help me with your pants, will you?”

“Oh—okay—” The villain didn’t even have enough energy to be excited. They were exhausted but couldn’t sleep. At this point, they were used to turning and tossing in their bed. It was an actual punishment and although they believed they deserved this to some degree, it slowly began to turn into a cruel and violent thing.

A part of them had already lost all hope of getting a good night's sleep.

Headaches accompanied them all day. They couldn’t eat, they had troubles with their vision. They had tried most things the internet had told them to: physical activity, an optimised work schedule, balanced nourishment. Nothing had worked so far and they refused to see a doctor.

Once their pants were off, the villain felt even more incompetent than when they had suggested all of this.

“Are you nervous?” the hero asked and when the villain looked up at them, they looked quite concerned.

Hell, the hero could be so kind.

“I’m fine,” the villain lied.

“Do you have any preferences?” The hero touched the villain’s naked chest gently and instinctively, the villain took in a deep breath. They preferred to swallow their moans. That was pathetic to some degree but unfortunately, it had become a habit.

Sometimes, it was even astonishing to the villain how little their self-confidence was.

“I don’t think so, no…” It probably meant nothing to the hero. It was probably like a job to them or maybe they were even using the villain for their own benefits — the villain wasn’t sure and they were actually terrified this would turn out to be very painful.

But they were undeniably desperate. Desperate for something to actually work, desperate for rest that lasted more than two hours.

"To be clear, we are taking this very slow," the hero said. Their voice was soft, softer than it should have been.

"Hm?" the villain asked. They hadn't realized how hard their fingers were digging into the hero's waist.

"Well...it's our first time together, so we shouldn't rush it." The villain couldn't believe that the hero was actually blushing. Usually, figuring out the hero's true feelings was an entire puzzle game.

"But isn't quick and rough more, I don't know, appropriate for our relationship?" the villain asked. At least, that was what they had expected - something purely physical that had no other feelings attached.

The villain wouldn't have minded.

"Oh, I..." The hero scratched the back of their neck. "I actually thought it would be more helpful if it was a little more ardent. I mean, considering your condition, you really need to rest and I guess it could help your body more if you were actually really into it. And, uh...if, you know, we are more intimate, we could take our time to communicate more and you can tell me what you like and what you dislike and if we take it slow, you can really get used to it and...I'm gonna be honest, two months is really bad."

The villain stared at the hero, eyes wide. Were they actually losing their mind or had they just heard more words coming out of the hero's mouth than they had thought to be possible?

"Wait, are you saying you don't want to or you can't or...?" The villain blinked several times. God, it was so frustrating to be so slow with their thoughts.

The villain felt like they could actively tell whenever a brain cell of them died.

"No, darling, I..." The hero put their flat hand on the villain's naked chest, right where their heart was. The hero's fingers were so warm against their chest that it was actually very pleasant. "I knew you struggled but I didn't know this started two months ago. I could have helped you sooner. Two months is actually fucked up and I don't know if I can really help you."

"Oh..." The hero raised their hands, suddenly alarmed.

"Of course I will try but you should see a doctor nonetheless." They took the villain's hands and pressed soft kisses against the villain's knuckles. "Also, I don't want your money."

"Are you sure?" the villain whispered.

"Very sure." The hero bent over and pinned the villain's wrists above their head. There wasn't much space between them anymore, in fact, the villain's lips were nearly brushing against the hero's. And it seemed to the villain like their enemy was hesitating.

If the villain's brain had functioned properly, they would have probably come to a very convincing and quick explanation as for why the hero was acting like that. Blushing. Talking a lot. Hesitating.

But the villain had all the clues in front of them and couldn't connect them.

"Ready when you are," the villain said and the hero only nodded quickly.

It was quite different from what the villain was used to. They had never considered themselves to be a good lover. Most of their relationships had crashed like a car - quickly and painfully. Hence, they had rather told themselves to concentrate on themselves first.

But for some reason, the hero made them feel a little better about themselves. Their sweet and innocent kisses only slowly evolved into something more passionate and carnal.

A few times, the hero parted from them to moan the villain's name or to kiss their body.

And then, the villain couldn't really explain it, they actually got tired. They supposed it was the warmth and the intimacy. They supposed it was the hero's sweet voice and their kind words. For a while, they fought it. They tried to concentrate on the hero but it was getting more difficult by the second.

It was something so strange and foreign, yet so comforting that only for a second, the villain thought they had completely lost it. They managed to wrap their arms around the hero and reply with lazy kisses, even though the hero was doing most of the work.

For the first time, they felt truly at peace. It was quite impossible. They felt safe, they felt protected. It wasn't like they had been more stressed than usual or that they had felt unsafe at home.

But the hero who was gentle and kind really gave something within the villain the kind of solace that they didn't know they had needed.

The villain allowed themselves to close their eyes and relax for a second.

"Are you okay?" the hero whispered. They kissed the villain's forehead but the villain didn't open their eyes.

"Yeah...yeah, just...gimme a sec." The hero raked through their hair and that was the last thing the villain could recall.

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Han are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion to catch up on the life after the retreat (7k words)

Author's note: Just a reason to use THEE Han Jisung pic hehehe

HOST: Welcome back to the Too Hot To Handle Extra Hot reunion episode. Now, on my virtual sofa is a pair who actually managed to keep their hands to themselves, well, most of the time. Before we meet them, let's have a look at their time in the villa!

[VIDEO PLAYS]

HOST: Here they are, everyone! The winner of Too Hot To Handle season 3! [Applauds]

YOU: [Squeals] Hi! HAN: [Waves hand]

HOST: First, congratulations on winning Too Hot To Handle. I literally jumped on my seat when you were announced winners. What have you done with the money?

HAN: I spoiled my family with the money and shortly, after the retreat, we also took a vacation to celebrate our win [grins]

HOST: How about you, my darling?

YOU: The same for me. I treated my mom to a shopping spree and went out with some friends.

HOST: Honestly guys, I was genuinely happy for you both when Han, you asked her to be your girlfriend.

HAN: I owe that one to her, actually.

YOU: No, really. The way you've done it was just perfect [smiles]

HAN: She thought I was joking though [chuckles]

YOU: Obviously, because we joked around a lot and we talked about things then suddenly he asked me to be his girlfriend so I was like what? And he was like 'I'm serious' and my eyes got teary a bit [laughs]

YOU: It was lovely [smiles]

HOST: I'm holding myself back from asking this question but I think we all want to know if you are still together.

HAN: [Laughs]

YOU: [Laughs] No, we're not.

HOST: [Frowns] How did it end? What happened? Talk to me, guys.

YOU: We got used to each other, we always had each other and were with each other every day during the retreat, and then suddenly, nothing at all.

HAN: Yeah.

YOU: It was just really hard but we stayed in contact. We still text each other every other day, FaceTime.

HAN: Yeah [Nods]

YOU: And we're still close, it's still us [Smiles]

HOST: Flabbergasted. Completely flabbergasted. It's almost like... you started as friends, developed and blossomed, got in a relationship and you guys went on a vacation together then... you guys become friends again?

HAN: Yeah [laughs]

YOU: [Laughs]

HOST: Is it completely dead though? Cause I still can see the chemistry there, I'm not going to lie. Han close your ears because I'm going to ask the girl first.

HAN: [Covers ears]

HOST: My darling, will you ever get back with Han

YOU: [Sheepishly smiles] I don't know. I haven't been dating in a long time so you never know what could happen.

HOST: Okay girl, now it's your turn to cover your ears.

YOU: Okay [covers ears]

HOST: Han, will you ever get back with her?HAN: Can't say anything [chuckles] because I haven't seen her in a while but who knows? [Shrugs]

HAN: But we shared such an incredible journey and we'll always be able to celebrate that so who knows, really.

HOST: Well, I think you guys are well-deserved winners.

HAN: Thank you!

HOST: Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me.

YOU: Thank you. Bye [blows kisses]

HAN: [Waves hand]

-

A MONTH LATER

Maybe it is what it seems to be.

Han invited you to see him performing and that's all, you shouldn't be overthinking it. It's just a friendly gesture because that's what you are now, just a friend to him.

Why you dressed nicely is because you wanted to look good and why you're nervous is because you haven't seen him in a while, these are all reasonable.

You arrived at the bar where he's going to perform a few minutes late, not sure what to do first, get a drink or try to find him first?

Since you need a little liquor courage, you head to the bar to order a drink and on the way there, you walk past the way to the restroom and it gets you wondering if you should check for your appearance first.

There you go, you overthinking it again. You get a hold of yourself and go with your initial plan to get a drink first. The bartender is busy tending to the other customers so you have time to pick your concoction, rubbing your lips as you think hard over drinks.

After a while, the bartender finally comes to take your order and you haven't settled on a drink yet.

"I'd have uhm... a vodka soda," you settle on a drink.

"You only drink Cosmopolitan on a vacation, huh?" Someone says.

You turn on your feet to see that it's him, Han. He looks the same yet different at the same time, but you can't quite put a finger on what makes him different.

"You came!" He says with a bright smile.

"Like I wouldn't miss the chance to see you embarrass yourself on stage," you jokingly say, welcoming him for a hug.

He puts his arms around you and gives you a tight hug, along with a kiss on your cheek. He then slowly pulls away but keeps his hand resting on the small of your back.

"Your drink is here," he tells you.

"Thank you," you quickly mutter to the bartender.

As you take a sip of your drink, you notice that his hair is longer and somehow, it's making him cuter than he already is.

"Your hair," you point out.

He reaches for it and gives it a quick ruffle, "I permed it. Do you like it?"

It's endearing that he still asks for your opinion, you nod and say, "Yeah. I like it."

Then you have another look at him, paying attention to how he dressed tonight in blue jeans and a black shirt that loosely hangs on his broad shoulders, this ensemble with the permed hair gives him that edge. Also, reminds you of someone.

"Hate to tell you that you'll never be Asher," you joke to him.

"Ouch!" He gasps with his hand clutching his chest.

With his hand that still lingers on your back, he's pulling you to the side to avoid people passing by.

"I'll never be as cool as him," he meekly says.

You place your hand on his forearm and look at him, "And Asher will never be as cute as you," you say with a flirtatious eyebrow raise.

He drops his hand to catch yours in his and holds it, "Glad to know I'm still the cutest."

Cute guys are your weakness and Han with his gummy smile is going to send you to your death. Maybe you were right to overthinking it, maybe it's more than just an invitation to see him perform, maybe there's... something else.

"Two shots, please?" He orders to the bartender.

The bartender comes with the drinks right away, serving two shots on a small tray and slides it across the counter at Han.

"Double shots, huh?" You say as you notice his drinks.

"The other one is for you," he simply says, putting a glass into your hand.

"But I–I already have a drink," you stammer, quickly putting down your other drink on the counter.

"Oh, come on! You're not going to let me have a shot by myself," he grumbles, linking his arm around you by the elbow for a love shot.

You have no other option but to cave in, better get it over with before anyone in the bar notices what the two of you are doing.

"I hope you break a leg," you mutter as a toast.

"Figuratively," he adds with a grin.

Signaling each other through eyes, you both tilt your heads as you take the shots in one go and gasp from the bitter aftertaste almost at the same time.

"I needed that," Han says as he takes a sip of your drink to help wash it down.

Someone from the other side of the bar is calling for him and Han raises his hand to let him know that he heard him. He turns back at you and awkwardly smiles, "I have to go to do uh... soundcheck," he says.

"Yeah, you should go," you coyly say but you're reluctant to let his hand go.

He looks at you with glints in his eyes, reminding you of what the two of you had been and could have been if you stayed together after taking that vacation together.

"Uhm... I hope you endure the whole time I'm on that stage," he playfully says.

"Don't worry. I'll be booing loudly for you," you joke.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

You nod with a smile on your face.

He pulls you close before finally letting go of your hand and turns away, heading toward the stage until he disappears behind the big curtain.

Knowing that the performance is about to start, the crowd moving toward the stage and leaving the stools around the counter unoccupied, you waste no time sitting on one.

"Am I late?" Someone says.

You thought you were hearing a stranger's conversation until you feel a hand on your shoulder and you turn your head to the side to see a familiar face.

"Oh, my God! Avery?" You gasp in surprise.

Avery's smile hasn't changed a bit, it's bright and warm, so welcoming. She doesn't hesitate to throw her arms around you and pulls you into an ecstatic hug.

Once you pull away from the hug, you immediately take a step back to take a good look at her and her appearance doesn't change much except that her hair is now in a shade of lighter blond.

"It's unfair that you're only getting more beautiful and here I am..." you sigh in sheer envy and a fake snide smile.

"No..." she hastily denies with her Australian accent and holds both of your hands in hers, "You look amazing!"

"Even if you're lying, I'd still believe you," you jokingly say.

"I'm being honest!" She assures you.

"Are you meeting someone in here or...?"

"Han didn't tell you I was coming? Oh, that guy," she sighs with an adorable pout.

For what other reason did she come here, unless it was coincidental, then it means Han invited her too. Your heart sank and you blame yourself for having your hopes up, there's nothing else here but a friendly gathering.

"How are you?" Avery asks.

"I'm great," you shortly reply, "What about you?"

You quickly put on a smile and answer all of her questions, asking the same thing back to catch up on things.

"Let's get you a drink, shall we?" you say since you also need a refill then you raise your hand to get the bartender's attention.

"Appletini, please?" She tells the bartender her drink order and then fixes her hair which is flowing down her back in soft waves.

Avery is effortlessly beautiful, the kind of girl who doesn't need to try hard to look that good, and the guy standing next to her who's been staring at her nonstop is proof of it.

"So where is the charming guy?" She asks, turning on her seat facing you.

You reckon what she means as the charming guy is Han and he'd be jumping in joy if he knew Avery called him a charming guy.

"He got called to the backstage. I think it's about to start any minute now," you answer.

Avery finally notices the guy who's been ogling at her and flashes him a smile, just enough to make him go berserk. She giggles in reaction and turns her attention back to you.

"Watches the reunion show and bummed to know that you guys broke up," Avery says.

A moment later, she suddenly grabs your elbow, "Please tell me that you guys played a prank on us and still secretly dating each other!"

You awkwardly chuckle and mindlessly stir your drink with your straw, "Trust me, if we were still dating, I wouldn't let him invite you tonight," you half-jokingly say.

Avery almost chokes on her drink hearing that, she gently wipes her mouth with a napkin and tries not to ruin her glossy lips. She opens her mouth to say something but someone checks the mic on the stage, causing a high-pitched feedback that echoes in the room.

Not long after the MC introduces the list of performers for tonight, Han finally enters the spotlight and slings his guitar strap around him, he says a few things to everyone in the room before starts playing his guitar.

Before this, you've only seen him performing through videos so that makes this the first time you watch him live and it's a whole different experience. You get to hear him sing, hear every strum of his guitar and if you ignore the other people in the room, you're also sharing this moment with him.

Another thing that makes it different is the subtle eye contact he's making at you and there is a chance that he may be looking at someone else, but delusional or not, you get that fluttering feeling.

It's the way he's immersed himself in his singing, the way he stands so nonchalantly yet oozing with charisma, the way he engages with everyone in the room, the way his hand grips the neck of the guitar that reminds you—

Before your mind wanders too far off, you take a big gulp of your drink and you wince at how the alcohol burns the back of your throat.

"Oh, my God! He's so cool," Avery says with her vivacious smile.

You almost forgot her presence and the fact that she's the girl Han initially crushed on, and probably still crushing on. It won't be a surprise if that's also the reason why he invited her.

"Yeah, he's cool," you say back and take another gulp of your drink.

You hate to hate Avery because she doesn't deserve the hate in the first place so you try not to let your negative thoughts get in the way of your friendship, especially over a boy.

In the last song, Han plays one of his songs that you know by heart. You sing along to his singing and notice that Avery is also doing the same, you put your arm around her to sing it out loud together against the loud crowd in the bar.

-

The crowd scatters around as they wait for the next performer while you stay where you are with Avery, waiting for Han with another round of drinks. As you laugh over Avery's joke, he finally appears in your line of sight, sucking on a bottle of water.

Avery turns around on her stool to see him and immediately jumps down to give him a hug, "That was incredible, Han!"

"Thank you!" Han awkwardly says, a little surprised by her hug.

You've been with Han long enough to know what the big grin on his face means and it means he doesn't mind any of that.

"And what do you think?" He asks you.

"That was really great!" You genuinely compliment him with a smile.

He brightly smiles and then brushes his damp hair to the back, exposing the sheen of sweat covering his forehead. You hurriedly take a napkin from the bartender's counter but Avery gets ahead of you.

All of sudden, Avery links her arm with Han then links her other arm with yours which forces you to get off your stool.

"You know what, guys? Drinks on me tonight," she says with a sly smile on her face.

"Are we celebrating something?" You curiously ask.

She looks at you with a pout, "I'm just so happy to see you guys," she simply answers.

You feel bad for asking and feel bad for letting her treat you when you should be the one treating her, you won the prize money after all.

"And I want to get you two drunk," she adds with a devilish laugh.

"That's a great idea! I'm in," Han agrees but he's looking at you as if he seeks your approval.

Eventually, the two team up and begin making puppy eyes at you, making it hard for you to say no to them. You don't like getting drunk, it's the queasy feeling, the headache, the getting home, and the hangover. However, there's always an exception and tonight is one of them.

You lowly sigh because you'll regret it tomorrow, then say, "I say let's get wasted."

-

Avery takes you to a different bar a few blocks away from the previous one and her friend already has a table reserved for all of you. Apparently, this bar is quite popular and that explains why it's so crowded, and you hate being in a crowded place like this.

Thankfully, the table is on the quieter side of the bar. You take your jacket off before sitting on the sofa that faces each other with an elegant-looking glass table in the middle and it seems like Han is about to sit next to you but Avery's friend claimed it first.

"I'm Lucky," he introduces himself to you right away.

"Oh, are you?" You teasingly say with a sly grin.

Lucky laughs and does it attractively with eyes full of crinkles, "Well, I met you so I guess I am," he teases you back.

The whole time, Avery leads the conversation and always tries to get you involved in it. Then it hits you why guys like her, not only she's beautiful, but she knows how to keep people engaged either with eye contact or a slight touch, and she just knows how to keep things fun for everyone, those are things that can't be taught, she was born with it.

"My friend here is cute, isn't she?" Avery asks her guy friend.

Lucky looks at you while you're sipping your drink and the ice cubes hit your lips. You force on a smile as you wipe your cold and wet lips.

"An absolute lush to be honest," he says with a seductive smile.

And you can say the same thing about Lucky, he's tall, with dirty blond hair and tattooed hands, and he also has those stunning light blue eyes. Maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel like teasing him back.

"You're not so bad yourself," you jokingly say.

Avery laughs in amusement, enjoying the exchange between you and him. She refills everyone's glasses with more drinks while talking at the same time.

"The best part is she's single," Avery says.

Your eyes somehow dart to Han and you find his eyes are on you too, for a second, you both stare at each other until Lucky slowly leans in, getting Han out of your sight.

"Are you ready to mingle though?" He asks with a half-smirk that looks good on his angular face.

You prop a hand under your chin and pretend to think for a moment, then slowly turn your head his way to say, "Why don't you find out?"

The next thing you know, you're on the floor dancing with him and you don't even anxious about being in the crowd because you're busy enjoying yourself. However, constantly moving your body in not so much space gets you hot, you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your back as you keep dancing.

"I need to go to the restroom," you whisper right into Lucky's ear as it is the only way he can hear you against the blaring music.

Following the sign, you push through the sea of people and head to the hallway that leads to the restroom. You take a moment to cool down, fixing your hair and tapping the back of your sweaty neck with cold water.

You take another look at yourself in the mirror before going out of the door. On the way back to the floor you catch Avery in the corner with someone, well, it doesn't make sense if anyone is not attracted to her until you identify that someone and it's Han.

They're standing facing each other and leaning in close whenever they talk, Avery laughs a few times while Han is continuously talking into her ear.

Knowing their history, it shouldn't surprise you that Han is probably still crushing on her. Again, Avery is undeniably attractive and you're just... you, so you understand that getting over his crush is not easy.

You shouldn't take this personally because he is not in a relationship with you. However, you've been getting this sinking feeling in your chest every time you see them together and it intensifies when you're watching them talking so close to each other.

Before either of them notices you, you make a turn to your booth and immediately collect your jacket and bag, you finish your glass of drink quickly and wince as it burns your throat.

"Hey, I've been looking for you," Lucky says.

You wipe your wet upper lip from drinking and force on a smile, "You know what, I just realized I have this... uh thing to do tonight," you made up something on the spot.

Lucky lets out an awkward chuckle, "All of a sudden?"

You put your jacket on first before answering, "Yeah, I... I have to go," you stammer.

"Like right now?" He asks with a perplexed expression.

"Yes," you hastily reply, grabbing the strap of your bag as you walk away.

You don't even know why you're in such a hurry that you forget your manner, you abruptly stop walking and turn around.

"It was nice meeting you, Lucky," you say with a smile.

You manage to not bump into Avery or Han on your way out, it's better that way. You plan on sending a text to Avery explaining your disappearance once you get on a taxi home.

You aggressively wave your hand to hail a taxi, wanting to get on one soon before any of them catch you leaving without saying anything.

Not long after, a taxi stops on the side of the road and you waste not another second to get into the backseat. As you're about to close the door, someone rushes in and sits next to you.

You roll your eyes once you realize who it is, "Why are you here?"

Han reclines on his seat and massages the bridge of his nose, "I think I'm drunk," he meekly answers.

First thing first, no drunk person is aware that they're drunk which means he's lying. You scoff as he keeps pretending to be drunk.

"Where to?" The taxi driver asks.

Since he's already inside the taxi, you can't force him to get off or even have the heart to push him out of the door so you decide to let it slide, then tell the driver where to go.

The whole taxi ride, you keep your arms crossed in front of you and look out of the window as the taxi glides through the city streets.

When you arrive, you hand the fare to the driver and get out of the taxi, all the while you're acting like Han isn't there. It doesn't take long for him to follow you out of the taxi and chase after you as you enter your apartment building.

"Why did you leave me?" He asks as he trails behind you.

"Obviously, you're not drunk and you can take care of yourself," you answer, starting to climb the stairs to get to the fourth floor.

"Why are you mad when you were the one leaving without telling me?" He asks again, also climbing the stairs two steps behind you.

"I have other things to do," you simply answer even though the other things you have to do are get home and sleep.

"You're lying," he says with a sigh.

"And you lied about being drunk too," you coyly say back.

That seems to shut him up for good but hearing the silence in reply makes you uneasy, you look over your shoulder to see him standing in the middle of the stairs looking up at you.

"I'm sorry I lied," he sincerely says.

That face... looking at that face makes you the slightest bit melting inside but you remain firm even though you're not sure with the reason why you're mad at him.

"Just go home," you tell him and continue walking up the last flight of stairs to your floor.

You start rummaging through your bag, searching for your keys inside as you walk to the door and are aware that Han is still following you.

"Can we talk?" He meekly asks.

"About what?"

"About everything," he answers.

"Well, I don't think we have the time to talk about everything," you detect the jingling sound of your keys and search for it with your hand without looking.

"About us?" He asks.

You let out a chuckle at that, "There's no 'us' to begin with."

After a minute of searching in the abyss that is your bag, you manage to successfully get it out and unlock the door to your apartment.

"Why are you like this?" He asks, his eyes wistfully looking at you.

To be honest, you have no idea either. You were so excited for tonight yet somehow, your mood significantly changed at the end of the night.

"All I wanted is to talk to you. Actually, that's what I've been trying to do the whole night."

You take your keys back and hold them, turning on your feet to face him, "If you wanted to talk to me, then why you brought someone else?"

This is your first mistake tonight, letting him know that you're upset about him inviting Avery. In your defense, you wouldn't be like this if he told you beforehand that his ultimate crush would be there too.

"So that's what this about? Avery?" He says with a sigh.

Han catches you clam up so there's no way of denying it, you turn the knob and push the door open, he stands in the doorway to keep you from closing it.

"I indeed invited her but it wasn't because I still like her or whatever it is you thought," he tells you.

You give him the chance to explain himself and stare at him, this way you can tell whether he's lying or telling the truth.

"And why is that?"

Han sighs, he then roughly brushes his permed hair, making it messier than before and you hate that he looks this good when you're mad at him.

"She was supposed to help me talk to you about something. But instead, she introduced you to this lucky guy," he says with a spiteful tone.

"Help you with what?" You curiously ask and urge him to answer by intensely glaring at him.

He bites his lower lip and sighs again, "Getting back together with you."

Everything you knew is far different from the reality of it and you almost let out a laugh at this newly acquired information. The whole thing is endearing yet annoying at the same time, you can't decide how to react to it

"Instead of doing that, she sets you up with Lucky," he cutely grumbles with his small mouth almost forming a pout.

"So you're jealous?" You coyly ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" He shortly answers with his mouth curling into a snarl.

He leans the side of his body against the doorway and looks at you, "So are you."

"What?" You defensively ask.

"You're jealous of Avery," he replies with a grin.

"No, I'm not," you deny with your foot slowly taking a step to the back.

"You lied again," he says with a pout.

"I'm not," you deny again while nervously chuckling.

Han boldly takes a step inside and closes the door behind him, he then stands with his back resting against the door just looking at you.

There's no one else in the room except you and him, it'd be less embarrassing to tell the truth. You swallow air and slowly exhale.

"Yeah, okay, I'm jealous," you finally admit.

A smile rises on his face and it grows wider as he comes closer. He only stops with a few inches of space between your bodies, then he leans in to softly whisper, "I know."

In reaction, you turn your head his way only to allow him to easily crash his lips against yours. He puts his arms around you as he deepens the kiss, a kiss that makes you dizzy and almost lose your footing.

You would be lying if you didn't miss his kiss, as a matter of fact, you do, you terribly do.

"Guess Lucky isn't that lucky tonight," he pulls away from the kiss only to say that with a shit-eating grin on his face.

As he's about to kiss you again, you dodge away and lightly chuckle.

"And you think you're lucky?" You teasingly ask, then gently push him away.

He hurriedly pulls you closer and tightens his hold around you, "I am."

You shake your head in disagreement, "I don't think so."

He hastily kisses your open mouth and then presses his mouth close to your ear, "You're about to get lucky too."

Without warning, he lifts you off the ground and steers your body toward the bedroom all the while both of your lips are locked in a rapturous kiss.

-

Han is too impatient. He doesn't even bother to take your dress off first, his hand goes under and pushes the hem up, making the dress hunches around your waist.

You let out a sharp gasp the second his hot mouth makes contact with your sex and out of reflex, your legs are clamping his head in between.

Thankfully, his arms are steadily keeping your legs open as his greedy mouth alternates between licking and sucking on your cunt, and a moment later, combining it with his two fingers pumping in and out of you.

It doesn't take long for him to sync those stimulations together to give you the utmost pleasure. If there's anything different about him from the last time you met him is how he's getting better at giving you head, he gets you squirming and moaning non-stop.

"Oh, my— Oh!" you loudly moan against the silence in the room.

Your hands are constantly crumpling the sheet underneath you with your back arched and your waist lifted off the bed.

Han abruptly stops and lifts his head to look at you, "What is it? I can't hear you with your legs around my head," he innocently asks with his mouth glistening wet with your essence.

"Just keep going," you breathlessly say, pushing his head down between your legs again.

He obeys your words, tirelessly pleasing you with his mouth and taking you closer and closer to your release while you're tugging at his hair harder as the pleasure intensifies in each passing second.

When you finally reach your high, you accidentally shut your legs together with his head caught in between. He slowly parts your legs open but keeps them around him, watching you riding down from your high while softly kissing your inner thighs.

After a while, he comes up and hovers above you. You eagerly pull him down, letting him lay himself on top of you. You can taste yourself on him as you kiss him, on his lips, his tongue, and around his mouth.

While your lips are busy lathering his, your hands are roughly pulling at his t-shirt, helplessly trying to get it off of him. He reluctantly lets go of the kiss to do that for you and you shift your focus on unbuckling his belt next.

It's your turn to be impatient, shoving your hand inside his boxer the second you successfully unzip his fly open. You palm his semi-hard cock and slowly stroking it in your hand.

"Gosh, I miss you so much," he breathlessly says.

You open your mouth to speak only for him to tug your lower lip between his teeth and playfully pull at it, making you forget what you're about to say to him.

As a way to get back to him, you surprise him by turning him over and straddling him, having him under you as you stare down at his face.

He's just as beautiful as the last time you saw him, your index finger touches the tiny mole on his fluffy cheek. His honey skin is still as warm as you remember, soft and searing to the touch. You swipe your thumb across his lips before leaning in to kiss him.

"Mmh... baby?" he hums against your lips with his hands cupping your ass and kneading on it.

"Yeah?" You breathlessly ask with your lips lingering on his.

"Help me take off your dress," he whispers.

You lowly chuckle and sit straddling him, taking the hem of your dress to take it off, pulling it over your head, then tossing it away.

The bewilderment is apparent on his face as he looks at your body with wide, lustful eyes and he slides his hands up the side of your body, eagerly waiting for you to take off your bra next.

"Mmh, yeah, get those tits out for me," he playfully says with a sly grin on his face.

His body is shaking along with yours as you laugh at his words while he enjoys touching you, running his knuckles down your front.

There's no denying that you miss his touch so much and how you crumble under the faintest of his touch on you, moreover, how it makes you want him more.

You land a long kiss on his lips and smile at him when you let go, "I'm going to get us a condom."

"Good idea!" He says along with a quick peck on your lips.

You get off him, rolling to the side of the bed, and pull open the drawer on the bedside table, rummaging through the contents to get a condom.

Han is kicking his jeans off the bed when you crawl back to his side while holding the condom in your hand, you put your leg over his as you get comfortable lying next to him.

He turns his head to be greeted by your gaze and tenderly puts his hand on your neck, he then leans in with his mouth open and slightly curling into a smile.

His hand brushes your hair to the side before resting his hand on your neck and instead of going straight for a kiss, he rubs his lips against yours and you can feel his breath on you, hot and raging with desire.

"Oh..." he lowly moans as you gently suck on his lower lip.

He flashes you a wicked grin before licking your lips then crashes them against yours again, slowly yet deeply. You are intimately making out with him as your hand goes down his front, not stopping until your hand meets his engorging member.

Using your index finger, you gently circle the tip of his cock and at times, alternate it with a few strokes on his full length, making it harder and hotter in your hand.

When you deem that both of you are hot and ready enough for it, you tear open the foil packet, then carefully take the rubber out.

You concentrate on putting it correctly, pinching the tip of the condom then slowly unroll the rubber down his length. He intently watches as you meticulously put it on for him and delightfully sighs once you're done.

"Wonderful work!" He playfully comments, pulling you close to him again, "You are welcomed to put it on me for the rest of my life."

You hold his chin and snidely laugh, "You wish!"

Unamused with your remark, he tightens his hold around you and uses his strength to flip you over to have you under him this time.

He plants his lips on you again and kisses you slower with his hand gently kneading on your breast, fingers circling on your hardening bud.

Your body is responsive to every stimulation he's doing to you, your legs are spreading open and you keep seeking that closeness.

The tension hits high as he settles himself between your legs, placing one hand on your thigh and the other aiming his cock at your entrance. He teases you by rubbing his cock on your clit, making you more drenched than you already are.

When he finally enters you, you let out a long moan at how hard and how good it feels to be slowly filled by him.

"I still have more, baby," he murmurs at you with a caress on your cheek.

Han props both hands on each side of you and looks down at you, he's using his hips to push the remaining length inside you while leisurely watching for your reaction, eyes fluttering shut overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Too good," his lips grazing yours as he speaks, "You always feel too good."

When you open your eyes, you can see one corner of his mouth curls into a cocky smirk and you so badly want to take it off his face so you pull him into a kiss.

He starts thrusting slowly, setting a steady pace as he continuously lathers his lips on yours, making you gasp for air in between kisses and moaning against his lips.

The sex feels different because it's not always about the sex itself but who you're doing it with. With Han, you're less insecure about yourself, you don't have to worry about your body and how it looks to him. With him, you can fully enjoy the intimacy between you and him, and also with yourself.

Noticing that you're getting close to your release, he hastily kisses you and says, "Cum together, yeah?"

Unable to answer verbally, you repeatedly nod at him in response.

He keeps the same pace but does it intensely as he's close to his release as well, your lips lingering against each other but both of your eyes are closed and he's groping around for your hand, holding it tightly as he fastens the pace.

When you finally come to your release, he keeps thrusting to ride out his high and then collapsing on top of you. With his eyes half shut, his hand dearly holds the side of your face and slowly puts his lips on you.

The kiss feels a lot gentler, almost like he's kissing a fragile object and you like that. You return his kiss even though you're still coming down from your high, panting in between kisses.

In the midst of it, you get hit by a realization and you immediately push him away, breaking the kiss. You let your head fall onto the pillow and lowly curse, "Fuck..."

"What's wrong?" He asks, slightly concerned.

You let out another groan and roughly brush your hair to the back, "I was planning to make you wait for, at least, a week for that."

He laughs in satisfaction and makes you put your hands around his shoulders again, "You can't help it because I'm cute," he confidently remarks.

You turn away and sigh, "You're not that cute."

Han places slobbering kisses on your neck and face in protest to that, making you laugh under him.

"This is exactly my plan to get you back," he tells you.

"And it's not working," you jokingly say.

He props his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you, "You have to admit that there's no reason for us to not get back together," he tells you.

It's true, you still have feelings for him and so is he, he wants you back as much as you want him back. You both want to get back together so what's holding you back?

He props his head with his hand and pulls the duvet to cover both of your bodies, "Honestly, I've been wondering why we broke up in the first place," he suddenly admits.

You look at him and see the turn of expression on his face, "We weren't ready," you answer.

"I was ready and I still am," he shortly denies, his eyes are open and wide, full of conviction.

You rest your hand on his neck and play with the hair on the nape of his neck, "It was me. I wasn't ready."

There's another change of expression on his face, his eyes downturn and looking sad, "Why?"

You awkwardly shrug and sigh, "I don't want to get hurt," you sadly admit.

His eyes wistfully look at you and his hand tenderly holds the side of your face, "I'm not going to hurt you, baby."

"I know," you respond.

"I like you too much to do that," he assures you with those eyes that shine for you.

The way he convinces you is endearing, you can't help but smile at his words. You don't even know why you think he's capable of hurting you when he's adorable like this.

"As a matter of fact, I love you," he blurts out.

Your heart aches in so many ways hearing those words from him, you smile and cup his cheek in your hand.

"And that's why I'm scared because I love you too," you say those words back to him with all of your heart and with worries that looming around it.

He softly kisses your lips and leans in so close his nose is poking at your cheek, "But we have each other remember?"

It's unfair how easily he can make you fall in love with him again, as easy as taking a breath but that's just the power he has over you, it's taking over you.

"You're right," you agree with him.

He triumphantly smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips, long and lingering, making your heart ache than before as he holds it in his hand.

"We have each other," he murmurs once he pulls away from the kiss.

And you realize that you have his heart in your hand too so you smile and murmur the words back at him.

"We have each other."

-

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[weird-an]

There's no home Billy has ever been welcome in. His dad made sure that every house they lived in was a place that hurt, where he couldn't hide.

Steve's home is something Billy pays for with kisses and touches, pleasure and bites. Billy doesn't mind. He can't afford Steve, but he can take a loan.

He wakes up earlier than Steve, after they fall asleep, worn out from their orgasms, limbs entangled. He always watches the other sleep, long lashes fluttering when he dreams, listens to his breaths and soft snoring. Mornings like this Billy indulges the thought that he could wake up next to Steve every day. That Steve's home, a cluttered apartment above an Italian restaurant that always smells like cheese and tomato sauce, could be his, too.

He knows it's a dream, a pink bubble reality pops every time he goes back to Cherry Lane where Neil waits with his anger about Billy's lack of discipline, about his uselessness. When he goes back to the house where bruises bloom in purple and green every other night.

"You know you can stay here," Steve says one morning, when Billy is about to leave.

It's so cruel to say that. Sure, Steve doesn't know, chasing after more pleasure, still dizzy from sleeping in on a Saturday.

"We can have breakfast," he offers. "Robin comes over later. It's movie night."

Of course there's a limit. Don't meet the girlfriend. Or best friend. Or a person Steve cares about.

"No, thanks, pretty boy," Billy sucks on his cigarette and only tastes ash and bitterness. "Not hungry."

He is hungry. Hungry for more, hungry for Steve, hungry for home. He leaves with a rumbling stomach.

The next time it's before they fall asleep, when Billy is all blissed out and the pillow feels like a cloud, Steve's arms keeping him from floating.

"Stay tomorrow," Steve says. "I'm making pancakes."

Billy shouldn't stay, shouldn't fall asleep here. But then he can't count Steve's heartbeats in the morning.

Pancakes come with coffee, orange juice, bacon and eggs. Billy wonders if he can pay for it all, with his skilled tongue and lips.

Breakfast becomes routine. It's so easy to stay, it's scary. It makes the bruises turn bigger, too, but they don't hurt as much as the look in Steve's eyes when he leaves.

One day Billy comes over and there's pizza and pasta on the table, from the place downstairs it seems. Robin Buckley sits on the couch, waving at him.

"Finally you're joining us," she says.

Finally? His heart is in his throat when he sits on the couch next to Steve who hands him a pizza slice and then later wraps his arm around him. Robin doesn’t comment on it with words, but winks at Billy with a wide grin.

Billy feels like a fraud, like he has gotten a ticket to a place he can't be at.

A week later, when Billy sips on the coffee he doesn't deserve, another gulp of debt he can't repay Steve, he nearly chokes.

There's a key on the kitchen table. Shiny and silver. Way too expensive for Billy to touch.

"Move in with me," Steve says. "I want this to be our home."

Billy stares at Steve. The world turns all blurry and soft. All the words are gone as if Billy has run out of them.

A home is nothing Billy knows or deserves or can afford.

But maybe it's the garden of bruises on his back or his father's shouts ringing in his ears or the emptiness his mother left behind or the memory of Steve's arms around him, holding him together.

"Our home," he repeats Steve's words. It tastes sweet, almost like the fluffy pancakes Steve made when they first had breakfast together.

He nods and there's a tear running down his cheek, dripping into his mug and turning his coffee salty.

"I don't know what a home is," he admits, a little shaky.

"Whatever we want it to be," Steve says with a smile.

Maybe a home doesn't get bought, but made, Billy thinks.

[bitchy-craft]

Are You On Santa's Naughty List | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out if you are on Santa's Naughty List. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterpost > Questions > Paid Readings [NEW]

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

Absolutely not! You've had an incredible difficult year, and for all that you've pulled through you deserve nothing less than to be on Santa's Good List this year! You deserve all the presents you get, all the love, all the food, all the drinks, everything. 2024 will go better, it really will. So enjoy this month, use this past year as experiences, see them as memories, and go into 2024 with a fresh start.

Pile 2:

Yes. We all know you've been laughing your ass of at those submarine memes a couple of months ago, some of you will have made them as well! Of course, you will not be kidnapped by Santa, nor get a sack of coal, and you will still receive presents (because everyone deserves that), but your name will still be found on that list all the little kids fear to ever be on.

Pile 3:

Santa is still debating even though it's Christmas Eve, he may even put your name on both the Good and the Naughty list. You will have done some things Santa will see as bad; being annoying to your sibling, stealing something in a shop, laughing at certain situations you maybe shouldn't have laughed at etc. But you've done plenty of good this year too; caring for family, being kind to your friends, helping people (even if it's with little things). So maybe you should decide for Santa this year;

Are you on the Good List? Or the Naughty List?

[zyhkoo]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

eye candy ♡ willy wonka 2023

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✦✦ 𓏏𓏏 part 2: ms. y/n rosewell, a famous botanist has come back from town after a year. she had returned with special flowers from her trip and famous willy wonka has caught her attention. will they get along? ♡ part 1

a/n: i got lazy for this, so the writing style will be a little different!

The next morning, a jar of chocolate arrived on your porch. It seemed a bit nicer than the chocolate he had given you before, with a more classy appearance and a somewhat larger size. It's Valentine's day, but unfortunately you were closed.

Today was the weekend, and you do not work on weekends. You'd usually sleep in or go grocery shopping on weekends, although they may get boring at times. During working hours, when you had nothing to do, you would normally read or sketch to pass the time.

Your favorite activity, however, was listening to the radio; you enjoyed the music and the issues spoken by others. Unfortunately, your radio had broken down while you were gone. So that's a bummer.

You thought for a moment, why not try something new? You never considered walking around town, it could be fun.

You stood up and dressed more formally. When you were about to leave, you opened the jar of candy and popped one in your mouth. It really tasted good, you loved the bitterness especially.

You locked your shop, dusted your clothes and begun to walk around the town. There were a few changes here and there, but was still the town you remembered. You remembered playing with your sister, while your father would bring home a toy or two every week.

You weren't poor, but you didn't had a lot. You wished you switched places instead of them, because you knew that nothing lasts forever. You wanted to move on, but you couldn't help but think about them.

You walked in the gallery gourmet. You noticed that Slugworth, Ficklegruber and that other guy's shop had disappeared. Could they really have gone? You walked deeper into the place, new candy and chocolate shops were built and in the middle was Willy's store.

Something was telling you that you should go inside. But I don't even like sweets that much. You thought. Never mind, I shouldn't be saying anything. I literally traded over my most expensive flower for chocolate!

Maybe a peek?

You walked forward, it was quite the busy place for sure. You stopped on the front glass, taking a peek inside the store. It looked so beautiful. It looked like the placed you explored in when you were traveling, so wonderful. You made up your mind and decided to enter the store yourself.

Behind you, someone greeted "Welcome to Wonka's Miss! May I help.. Ms. Rosewell?" you recognized the voice behind you and you turned around "Hello, Mr. Wonka." you couldn't help but smile to him.

He smiled back "What brings you here Ms. Rosewell? Are you interested to buy some chocolate?" you shook your head "No, no, no. I just came to look around, this is very beautiful." you complimented him.

"Well, I'm glad you like it! Why won't we find somewhere to sit?"

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He led you in a private room, he took a chair and then offered you to sit down. "Tea?" he offered "Sure." you replied. "I was hoping to see you again, I am quite interested about you from all the stories I heard." you softly smiled "Hm, I guess the town has heard about my deeds from afar.. I'm quite embarrassed."

"How so?" he asked, "I like attention, just not too much." you said, Willy understood "I see, but you deserve praise! You've been to a land full of danger just to retrieve beautiful flowers." you laughed "Well, aren't we the same though? Willy Wonka would climb mountains and swim oceans to make the perfect chocolate."

"You got that right," he proudly beamed. "But have you noticed that I am also a great magician? Watch this." His eyes were filled with a strange mix of mischief and affection. You tilted your head and, in a blink of an eye, he took out a rose with an unusual pattern.

Wait a minute.

"Hey, isn't that mine..??" you reached to his hand, then suddenly it turned to coins. "2 sovereigns right?" you stared speechless but accepted the coins "Silly.. don't steal from me again." Willy's eyes widened "Willy Wonka never steals! In fact, what I just did there is called: buy now, pay later."

"Well, thank you for paying me back Mr. Wonka."

"It's my pleasure."

You hadn't felt this warm in a long time. You couldn't recall laughing with anyone like this before; it seemed unfamiliar. "You put your pride and love into this store, didn't you?" You said, continuing the conversation, "Truly, what could be better than a candy land? Or.. edible change?"

"You can make anything edible at this point."

Willy grinned. "What matters to me the most is that if people are happy. I'm happy, what about you?" you choked on your tea a bit "Me?" you asked.

What did make you happy? Flowers? Traveling? The radio? You thought for a while "I feel happy right now, talking to you like this." you answered his question, "But, don't get the wrong idea.." Willy answered, "Why would I? Thats not bad at all, I enjoy talking with you too."

A blush crept up your face "You mean it?" you asked "Of course, I've never met someone similar to me." you smiled "Maybe so." you never knew talking with a person you just met would make you happy.

"Do you have any hobbies?"

Strangers never asked personal things about you, it was usually how skilled you were.

"Bouquet design, drawing and I suppose singing.."

Almost everyone asked you the same question. How do you create bouquets? Where do you get your flowers from? How can I get money with flowers? And honestly, you thought that people only saw you as a botanist.

"Singing! I love to sing too." Willy said, "Maybe you should give me a performance, imagine this: (name)'s spectacular singing show!"

You would ignore any signs of friendship and love, because you were scared of losing it. But maybe you should give this a chance.

"You're such a dreamer.." you rolled your eyes "Thats my specialty." Willy smiled.

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Yesterday was nice, the two of you spent your time getting to know about each other. It felt really good finding someone to talk with topics you actually enjoyed. And because he made you happy, you felt like you owed him something.

"Welcome to Timmy's Tailors! Can I help you madam?" you entered a tailor shop, you thought that a coat would be good gift. "I want a coat, he's this tall and hm.. maybe red? Im not sure what his size is, I just want it to be a surprise." you explained.

The tailor nodded "Who is it for? Your brother? Your father? A lover?" you shook your head "Just a gift for a friend, do you mind if I picked a size?"

You ended up picking a coat with a (pattern) felt, it perfectly fits you as well. You were a tall woman, just 3 inches away from Willy. If it didn't fit him you could always come back to the tailor and fix it, it was no problem. This was the first gift you gave that wasn't a flower, you realized he was one of your firsts.

A first friend and a first gift.

That warm feeling came into your senses again, you were changing. What is up with you and that chocolate maker? You felt stupid, you've only seen him twice and it felt like you've known him forever. You snapped out of your thoughts, think! You just met this guy for 2 days, you shouldn't get too attached.

You arrived back to your shop, you went upstairs and placed the paper bag on the table. For a moment, your stomach growled. You couldn't cook, at all. In fact you were a very terrible cook, that was one thing you didn't have common with Wonka. So you would usually get pre-heated food or take out.

Unfortunately, you were out of food so you were planning to eat out for dinner and forgot, but hold that first thought.. why did you even go home in the first place?? Aren't you supposed to give this to him??

You covered your face and groaned in frustration, okay so new plan:

You go out and eat for dinner.

Give the coat some other day.

But maybe give the coat after you eat?? No, it would be embarrassing for some reason. Well if you do give the coat, what on earth are you going to say? Thank you for talking to me, heres a coat! Absolutely not, you need to think this through. You went out your store again and double checked to see if you forgot anything.

Okay, everything looks good.

You walked out, locked the door and started to walk to the restaurant. You decided to treat yourself to your favorite place, you missed eating food from this town. Sure, you've eaten one of the finest dishes before when traveling but nothing hits hard like the ones at home.

The restaurant you were looking for was a bit far from your house so you needed to ride a cable car for fifteen minutes to arrive. But you didn't mind, all you wanted was to eat.

You entered the restaurant, the waiters smiled and welcomed you. Thankfully there was one table available. You placed your bag in your left side and took the menu, no way everything got cheaper!

You double checked the menu to see if you were actually not getting crazy. It is definitely real. You couldn't wait so you immediately called the waitress.

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That was so amazing. You felt like you unlocked a core memory in your mind, you felt so happy. It was evening, there were barely people in the streets in this hour. You walked the streets while humming a tune, you could hear your boots syncing with your tunes.

One things for sure, you loved the night. While you traveled, you would often stare into the stars above. They all had their own place fit just for them. You looked up to the sky, you couldn't see any stars tonight. Instead, it looked rather cloudy.

Drip, drip, drip.

Suddenly it started to rain heavily, at this point you didn't even try and look for shelter. It could be worse. No wonder no one was walking in the streets, they probably noticed that rain was going to pour.

You exhaled, the unexpected keeps happening to you. You could hear footsteps approaching behind you, but you didn't look. You could tell this person stopped for a moment, thats when you decided to turn around. Your breath hitched.

"Rosewell?"

You both looked at each other for a brief moment "Hello again." you said.

Willy approached you, tilting his umbrella for a bit so the both of you could share. He smiled "Now what are you doing getting drenched by the rain?" you huffed "Well, in my defense I didn't expect it to rain." you told him. A hint of mischief was written on his face "Really now?"

You sighed "I was spacing out as well, anyways what brings you here?" you asked casually as if you're not drenched in rain "I live near here. Hold on to this, you're soaked." he gave the umbrella handle to you then he let you hit coat and hat.

"Thank you Willy." he was caught off guard for a moment. "You're welcome (name)." he replied.

"Why wont I escort you home?" he suggested "..You see I live quite far from this place. I only came here to watch at my favorite restaurant." Willy laughed, "Is that so?" you frowned "Don't embarrass me please."

"I'm sorry, alright enough talking. Would you like to come over to my place?" he asked.

You nodded "Yes please, I'm going to freeze."

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His home was nice, it writes 'Willy Wonka' everywhere. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'll gladly lend you my clothes." he offered "Will they even fit?" you asked "Oh, I'm sure they would." he reassured you "Shower is upstairs!" he said.

After a long hot shower, you dried yourself up and wore his clothes. He was right it did fit, you sighed in relief because that meant the coat probably fit him. The clothes you wore were very comfortable, probably something he'd only wear when he was at home.

You wouldn't mind wearing masculine or feminine clothes. Either would fit you well anyway, so it doesn't matter. You walked downstairs, you couldn't see Willy anywhere. You figured he was in a different room, so you just looked around his living room.

He walked in the room, holding two glasses of hot chocolate. He placed the glasses on the table and walked towards you "They fit you perfectly!!" he said, he sounded really excited just the sight of you wearing his clothes. "It looks real good on you too." he added.

You smiled at him "You think so?" you said "Well I most certainly do! You look real nice." he reassured, his hands holding your arms "Oh, sorry. I just felt excited to see it fit you perfectly." you sighed "Its fine, can I sit?" you said.

"Oh, right. I got hot chocolate." he said "Nothing is better than Wonka's late night lax hot cocoa." you carefully took the cup out of his hand, the heat stung your fingers a little.

You drank the hot chocolate, Willy watched and waited for reaction. You looked at him "Is something wrong?" you asked "Not at all," he answered "I just wanted to know if you like it." he said.

You hummed "Well, I love it." you said "Glad, I changed it a little for your own liking." he said. Though his tone was calm, his face was full of excitement and you couldn't help but chuckle. "What's with the face?" you asked "I just feel happy. I've never invited anyone in my house before." he said. "Well it's quite lovely." you said.

It was still raining outside, thunder had already to clap. It would be a real hassle to go back home, hopefully your flowers won't get ruined by the rain though, oh no.

"Mind if I stay for the night?" you asked "Of course you can, you don't even need to ask." Willy said "You can sleep in my bed." you squinted "Well, where will you sleep?" you asked, Willy shrugged "Oh, don't you worry. I'll sleep on the desk."

"No, I can sleep in the couch. I'll feel bad." you told me "Its fine (name). It's really no problem for me." you sighed "You're too nice, are you plotting something?" you asked, Willy shook his head "Of course not! Why would I?" you chuckled "I was just kidding."

The two of you talked the whole night, eventually the clock strikes 12 and you were getting sleepy. "I feel sleepy, I think we should head to bed." you suggested "Sounds great." he said standing up "Are you really going to sleep on your table?"

He extended his hand to you "Well I don't see a problem with that. As long as my first guest is comfortable it's fine." you reached out his hand and pulled you up.

His bedroom felt like healing your inner child, it was beautiful. "I love.. your bedroom." you said, amazed by everything around it. From the glowing stars on the ceilings, and the numerous amount of small lights everywhere. "Thank you! I designed it myself." he said.

"I'd definitely enjoy this if I was a kid." you said "My old bedroom was somewhat similar to this." he said "I took inspiration from that." Willy smiled "You can lay down if you want, i'll just be here. See?" Willy extended out a chair, in front of him was a small cute factory. It was reminiscent to the luggage he carried.

You got into the covers getting comfortable "Thank you Willy, I owe you a lot." you smiled, he looked at you "Its no problem. Anything for a friend." he reassured "You're not going to sleep?" you asked him, you still felt guilty for hogging his bed. "Nope, i'll work on this first. Now go to sleep."

Something about his soft voice would always make you feel warm on the inside.

"Good night, please don't stay up too late, Willy."

"You too, (name)."

You woke up, your eyes still felt heavy and your body was still tired. You recalled everything that happened last night, the rain, the hot chocolate and the clothes you wore. You looked at the clock hanging in the wall, it was 7:13 in the morning. You said to yourself. "Well, I slept real late. And it's still early, so I'll just sleep in."

Then, the door opened "Wake up sleepyhead, time to wake up!"

"..." you stayed silent.

You could sense him sitting down on the bed "Is she awake?" he said to himself "No." you responded. Willy decided to play along with you "Is that sleep talking I hear?" he mischievously said "Do people still get hungry when they're asleep?" he asked you "What's for breakfast?" you muttered.

"Croissant, crispy bacon and some chocolate bread." he said. You told him; "Eggs.. with bacon.. and some milk." he hummed "That's quite a delicious dream. Well, when shes ready to get out of bed. Can you tell her I got her some breakfast?" Willy said with a soft voice.

You slightly covered the blanket to your head "She'll come out in a few minutes." you said, you can feel him stand up from the bed "Alright, then tell her to come to the kitchen." he said, closing the door. You immediately sat up, pushing your knees to your chest.

"What's going on with me?"

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You went downstairs and found the kitchen "Good morning, Willy." you greeted him, your voice was still raspy. Willy greeted back, "Good morning (name)! Huh, I thought you'd get up a little late." he said, cracking some eggs.

"I envy you," you told him "Really? How so?" he asked while you softly sighed "Well, you can cook and I cant. I usually just eat pre-made foods or go out in restaurants." you explained.

"I see, then how did you eat when venturing?" he asked, you thought for a while "Hmm, from what I can remember. I packed a lot of foods like berries and such, a shame to say I ate a few flower petals."

You explained further "I have the fear of fire and heat, so maybe thats one of the reasons why I don't want to cook. A restaurant can be pricey sure, but it's delicious."

Willy hummed "Well, why won't I teach you how to cook?" Willy said as he placed the cooked egg on the plate.

You stared at him "You might not want to trust me to cook." you said, averting your gaze away from him. "It'll be fine, I'll be here watching you! You won't be injured in any way, I promise." he said. That smile of his, how could you say no?

You gave in "Fine," you sighed "What would you like me to start on?" he grinned "Let me prepare these first."

After preparing a few things, he told you to come and cook some bacons. "So, I just.. place them there right?" you were holding some tongs and a plate of uncooked bacon.

"Yep, the stove hasn't turned on yet so it's fine." You carefully placed the 5 bacon strips on the stove.

Willy nodded in approval "Now, turn on the stove and use medium heat." you turned the stove "Like that right?" he hummed "Hmm, the fire is too weak." Willy turned it further "There we go, now you need to wait till it sizzles. Then flip it over till its ready." he advised.

10 minutes passed, you managed to cook decent bacons. Although the last one burnt "See, it wasn't that bad!" he smiled while you were frowning "But one of them got burnt." you reminded him.

"Well, it doesn't mean the others are bad." he reassured you "Lets eat! Can you help me with the plates?" he asked "Of course." you replied.

The two of you settled down the table "It's been a while since I cooked some heavy breakfast." Willy said "Oh, me too. I usually eat cereal and start my day." you told him "I'd say the same, I eat a lot of sweets." he said "I can see that." you chuckled. "I feel quite ashamed for you to let me in your house like this. Let alone borrow your stuff."

He tilted his head "Why so? You're a friend of mine, they're meant to help each other." he reassured you, you looked at him with a soft gaze "If thats what you think." you told him "If I were in your shoes, I'd probably escort them home. I wouldn't trust a stranger whom i've meet for a few days." you added.

"Well I trust you." you huffed "Oh don't say such nonsense." you said, looking away from him "Well, didn't you trust me the moment I gave you shade with my umbrella?" he said. You stayed silent "...Eat the bacon." you turned away from him. He tilted his head, afraid he said something for you to act like that.

"Sorry, did I say something?" now you felt bad "No, nothing. Thank you for taking me in, Willy." you reassured him. His smile returned, "Of course." he said.

After breakfast, the two of you talked again. Your clothes weren't dry just yet, so Willy allowed you to have his clothes. You were about to leave his house, but you wanted to bid your goodbyes first. "Willy?" you called out his name, you looked around and saw him sleeping in the couch.

He must've had stayed up all night, you spotted a blanket on the side of the couch and wrapped it around him.

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hi everyone! ive decided to stick with (name) instead of y/n because to me it feels more normal. but anyways, yay!! another chapter, sorry if their relationship is quite rushed here.. im trying to write slowburn haha but i couldn't help it

happy reading!

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 3

First / Previous / Next

Ma-ren was busy.

Helena had called out so, they were down a server during the lunch rush. Ti'ka helped spread the load, so it wasn't insurmountable, but it was busier than she had been in a while. She had told Fen to stay home today just to give things another day to cool down so Ma-ren felt additional obligation to make some extra money.

A bell sounded, and an unseen hand from the kitchen slid out a plate of pancakes for that new human eating outside. Ma-ren grabbed her plate and the coffee pot and strode out.

"Here are your pancakes, sorry for the wait! Would you like another coffee?" She placed the plate in front of him and made sure he had napkins and syrup.

"I would love another cup, thanks so much." He grinned widely as she poured. "Hey, I'm sorry for staring earlier, you just look familiar."

"Oh it's all right. Maybe I just have that kind of face." Ma-ren flicked her tail and looked back towards the kitchen. "You're new here right? When did you arrive?"

He finished chewing the pancakes and swallowed. "Just came in a couple hours ago on a freighter. I'm going to see if I can find some work and earn enough for passage on to the next station."

"Oh? Where are you headed?" Ma-ren switched to Colonic smoothly. Then, she realized what she was doing, shook her head, and her ears twitched. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry. I apologize, you don't have to tell me your business."

He chuckled and waved his hand, dismissively. "I haven't had a chance to speak Colonic in years. It feels good, like dusting an old cabinet. "No, no it's fine. I guess I'm making my way to Lemilar."

"Well, good luck on your journey!"

"Thanks Ma-ren, I'll try." He looked down at his food and then back up. "Actually, Ma-ren, can you recommend a hostel around here? I need a place to stay for a week or two."

Ma-ren laughed. "Friend, there's no place like that for humans or K'laxi here."

The human looked around. "Yeah, I kind of got that impression from the welcome wagon down on the promenade."

"Oh? Did you meet Tam? How much did he shake you down for?"

"He tried for one hundred Stars, but he didn't get any."

Ma-ren blinked. "Wait, you beat up Tam?"

The human shook his head quickly. "No! I just dodged his half-assed punches until he got tired and left."

"Oh I wish I could have been there for that! Someone needs to take Tam down a peg or two. He goes after humans and K'laxi, and not just newbies on the promenade. He comes up here and causes trouble, and when security comes, they harass us." Ma-ren looks back at the kitchen. "Look, I have to get back to work, but anyone who can take on Tam and walk away deserves praise. I've got a couch, you can crash with Fen and I for a day or two while you figure things out."

He blinked. "Are you sure? That's awfully generous. You just met me, I don't even think you know my name."

"Hey, we take care of our own up here. Ancestors know nobody else will. There's no reason for you to sleep out in the common if you don't have to." She winked. "So, what's your name then, friend?"

He suck out his right hand. "I'm Gord. Pleased to meetcha."

Ma-ren leaned back. "What's the hand for?"

Gord looked at her, and then at his hand, and put it down slowly. "Don't worry about it. It's an old greeting."

Ma-ren's ears twitched again. "Well Gord, I'm on for another couple of hours and then I'll take you back to our place. I'll bring you the check for the pancakes, but I can keep the coffee going so the boss doesn't wonder why you're still here."

Gord finished his food and took out a battered pad and read while sipping three or four coffees while Ma-ren finished her shift. When she was finished, she walked out in her street clothes. "Ready Gord?"

Gord snapped the pad shut and picked up his pack. "Sure thing Ma-ren. Lead the way."

She took him to her apartment over on the other side of the floor. As they approached her building, they passed Da'reni sitting out front reading again, his gray muzzle buried in his pad. Ma-ren waved. "Hey Da'reni, I've got a boarder for a couple of days. New arrival."

Da'reni grunted and flicked his eyes up. He did a double take and stared. His ears flattened, and he looked like he was going to say something. Then, he fluffed his fur and grunted and went back to his pad. "Careful, newbie. You've got that kind of face. The one that gets security called up here."

Gord raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Ma-ren's tail flicked. "Don't worry Gord, that's just how Da'reni is. Come on, you can come up and meet Fen and get settled.

Ma-ren bounded up the stairs while Gord walked more carefully. When she got to the apartment door, she touched the locking stud and the door buzzed and opened with a loud click. "Fen hon, I'm back and I bought a friiiiiiiiend!"

There was bustling from the kitchen area. "Oh, who is it? Did you drag Helena back again?"

Ma-ren laughed. "Nah, newbie off a freighter. Get this, he managed to dodge getting beat up by Tam!"

Fen leaned around the corner, face covered in flour and a towel draped across her shoulder. "Okay, you win. Hey newbie, I'm Fen."

He waved. "Gord."

"Sit Gord, you drink tea? Too bad, I'm making some. I'll have cookies out in an hour."

Gord, Fen and Ma-ren sat around their small table, drinking tea while Gord brought Fen up to speed and telling them about dodging Tam.

"Shit Gord, I know how hard Tam can hit-" Fen rubbed her cheek "-first hand, and the fact that you dodged him is nothing short of impressive."

"Oh, it wasn't so much, but thanks all the same. He really telegraphs his moves, and I know that a Gren really only has three or four punches in them." Gord sipped his tea politely.

Gord put his cup down. "So Fen, Ma-ren how long have you been here? Sure seems like they are trying to get all the humans and k'laxi to move along."

Fen and Ma-ren shared a look and then laughed. "Oh Gord, we were born and raised here. Most of the time, the station authorities ignore us. Our parents came in on Spyglass and these days it's not going anywhere so we just... stayed."

Gord blinked. "Wait, Spyglass? The Starjumper? She's here? Where?"

Fen raised an eyebrow. "Docking bays thirty three through forty. We have a big fundraiser every year to pay the docking fees. We probably should just scrap it, but we can't bring ourselves to do it. It saved all of us."

Gord looked at them in horror. "Scrap her? No, you can't do that! Have you even asked her what she thinks of that?"

Ma-ren looked at Gord carefully. "Her? Gord, Spyglass is a ship. A creaky, old, cold, human made ship. It's probably the oldest thing on this station by a long shot. It's not alive."

Gord boggled. He shut his mouth and took a deep breath in, and then out again though his nose. He picked up his tea and Ma-ren noticed his hand was shaking. "Gord? What are you not telling us?"

At that, Gord smiled. "Quite a lot, actually. But that's neither here nor there." He sipped his tea, took another cleansing breath and seemed to collect himself. "Can we go over to Spyglass? Can we go in her?"

Fen shrugged. "I mean, it-she's cold. The reactors failed decades ago, but she's not like, guarded. We used to play there as kids."

"Will you take me there? It's important. I need to see something." For the first time since they met, Ma-ren noticed that Gord was nervous.

"S-sure Gord. We can head over." Fen looked up at the clock over the stove. "Curfew isn't for a few cycles, let's go now."

[simp999]

A New Home Ch. 38

Various! Splatoon Manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader

A/N: Dedicated to my boyfriend who's an Emperor fan. You're welcome <3

Wc: 1k

Back to the start! Previous Next

You sobbed yourself to sleep that night.

The night you defeated Emperor you were left stranded, homeless.

Ironically enough, rain began to fill the air, waking you and leaving you no choice but to hide in the exact spot you first found yourself when you got here. In that dark alleyway, off to the side.

Every once in a while, enough drops of rain would fall against you, stinging your skin.

Then it stopped.

Then it stopped?

And there was a shadow on the ground before you. You looked up a bit higher and you spotted some white boots.

"What are you doing out here all alone, friend? Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

His tone was so innocent.

Such a nice break from all that recently happened.

"I..." You were afraid to put it too bluntly, but you had no choice.

"I don't have a home right now."

"Did something happen?" He offered you his hand. You accepted and nodded your head without another word.

You assumed the two of you were walking around aimlessly. That is until you realised you stood before a massive mansion. How long had you been walking?

"Stay the night with us? We've got plenty of room. I'm sure brother wouldn't mind,"

The urge to say no was there, feeling like you didn't deserve a place to stay. But you knew in your heart that Milo could never forgive himself if he found you injured from the rain, you knew your team- your family still cared. Even a little. So, you accepted his offer.

"Ya want some snacks er somethin'?!"

Eging Jr. was not-all-that-surprisingly calm about you staying the night. After Prince showed you your room- the bed was absolutely massive- he chuckled at your slack jaw, you awkwardly sat with the team in the lounge. N-Pacer seemed comfortable, in her robe holding a cup of tea and reading. Emperor stood off to the side staring you down. You couldn't quite tell what emotion lied behind those eyes, but if you had to guess, it would be curiosity.

He then signalled for you to follow him. You did, to your room. He sat on a chair while you reluctantly sat on the edge of the bed, afraid to ruin the sheets.

"Why don't you have a home to go back to?"

"It's a long story."

"We have all night, dear."

You were still reluctant- the idea of him kicking you out for your wild story seemed very possible to you, and you were afraid of being seen out there. It was humiliating. You won against him, yet he's the one offering you a place to sleep? - Already embarrassing enough.

Before you knew it, tears were rolling down your cheeks, recounting the memories of your friends leaving you. He waited patiently, no judgement in his eyes. Were you angry? Sad? You deserved this, didn't you? You didn't deserve anything they gave you in the first place. You don't even know how you got here.

And soon thoughts turned to babbling and mumbling, breaking down and telling Emperor everything.

"...I'm the strongest character of course, right?"

That's what he cared about right now? Cod, he really is such an insolent-

"It was a joke, darling."

He walked over to you and sat beside you. Crossing one leg over the other before leaning down next to your ear and smirking,

"Of course I am."

You wish you had a snarky remark. Your expression grew irritated, but then you turned to notice the genuine smile on his face. The real chuckle that escaped him.

He was being lighthearted to cheer you up.

"You don't think I'm insane?"

"Well, maybe a little~" He answered in a teasing tone. "But what you need is comfort, my dear. As well as a place to live. You didn't deserve to get thrown out by your own family like that, not for that backstory. You came to this world by accident. You should not be blamed for that."

He carefully brought his hand to your cheek, silently asking if you were comfortable with the touch. You didn't flinch or make any move to get away, so he continued.

"I personally think you're a very skilled individual, no matter where you might come from. And that deserves respect." He carefully guided your head towards him for a hug, gentle enough so that you could pull away at any time.

But it was warm, comfortable. You stayed in his hold for what felt like what should have been too long. Once you were comfortable enough to be on your own, from sobs to sniffles, he left you to get some rest, and wished you goodnight.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You woke up to somebody nudging your arm gently. It was a gentle touch but almost frantic. It was Prince, and he wore a worried expression.

"Are you alright, Prince?" He shook his head. In a small voice, he uttered:

"I had a nightmare, and brother wasn't in his room when I went searching for him."

You contemplated your options, rubbing your eyes, still groggy from recently waking. "Would you like me to help you find him?"

"Please," He whispered as he nodded.

He gently held your hand as you roamed the halls together, sleepily trudging forward.

Eventually, the two of you found him in the lounge. He claimed he was unable to sleep because his room was too stuffy. He closed his book and looked up at you two, and that's when he froze, and his expression softened absentmindedly. The sight of you carefully holding his younger brother's hand, taking care of him, making sure he felt safe- Emperor couldn't explain what he felt in that moment. Soft, maybe? As if he wanted to care for you in return.

It was surely an odd feeling.

.

.

.

May.23.24

Next part

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 2

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"I hate my kids."

"What?" I laugh.

"I hate them, Val. They all are so… so… annoying."

"You've only been with them for three hours, Emma."

"Enough to know that I hate them" she sighs. "What about yours?"

"They seem lovely so far. We've been playing some games to get to know each other and they all were really into it."

"Lucky bitch."

"Hello, girls" says Beth, the headmistress of our school,  as we walk into the staffroom. "How's the day been so far?"

"Good, good" I say, stopping Emma before she says something she shouldn't.

"That's wonderful" Beth smiles. "Oh, Valeria, this came for you earlier" she says, giving me a big bouquet of flowers.

"These are for me?"

"Yep. And there is a note too."

"Why hadn't you told me you have a secret admirer?" Emma says.

"Because I don't" I reply, opening the note.

Hope you've had a good first day and that you don't need these flowers to cheer you up, just to remind you of how cute I am. -P

"P? Who is P?"

"Just a friend" I quickly say, hiding the note.

"He must be a special one. Look at that smile and the colour of your cheeks" Beth chuckles.

"We just met, it's nothing serious."

"But if he is already sending you flowers, that's because he likes you. Luis, why have you never sent me flowers?" 

"What?" Beth's husband says, looking up from the newspaper he was reading. One where Pedri is on the cover, a big smile on his face while joking with Gavi during training. 

"You've never gotten me flowers on my first day of work."

"What is the point? We've been working together since we got married" he shrugs, hiding once again behind his newspaper.

"See what I have to deal with?" she sighs. "Your boy is a keeper."

"I agree" Emma says. "And if he has a brother or something…"

"I'll let you know" I chuckle, my eyes fixed on the newspaper, on that smile I've gotten to see almost daily for the past couple of weeks. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Thank you for the flowers. They are beautiful.

You're welcome 😊 

But wait, why are you texting me? Shouldn't you be in class?

I am, but they are busy painting, they aren't paying attention.

Naughty, naughty 😜 

Are they good kids?

They are. I am really lucky this year.

But I am your favourite kid, am I not? 😇

I thought I had upgraded you to young man 🤔

Is that still standing?

It is. Thanks to the flowers you've earned yourself to keep that status 😜

Thanks to being cute, you mean

Yeah, that too

Do you give your kids a sticker or something if they behave or get good grades?

I do, yes. Had to buy some Barça ones and 🤢

🙄 

But I think I also deserve something 

You get to keep your status Also have I told you yet how stupid you look on your profile pic? 😂

Always so nice, Val 🙄 

I look cute, which is what I am, and the reason why I think I deserve a kiss

Are you free this afternoon to give me the one from today?

Not really. Still have to prepare some things for next week.

What if I stop by your house?

That needy are you for a kiss? 😂

You can't even imagine 😩

Then ask one of the many teenagers who slide into your dms 🤷‍♀️

But I don't want their kisses. 

I want YOURS

I'm busy

C'mon, Val. You know like them too 😏

I can't today, I'm busy

It'll be just a kiss

No

A teeny tiny one 🥺

We don't do that type of kisses and you know it 😂

We don't, no 😏 

But c'mon 🥺 

No

And if I buy you one of the cookies we ate the other day on our way back from the beach?

🤔…

Is that a yes? 👀

It's a maybe. Let me think about it

Yes! 💃🏻

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Aren't you going to ask me to come in?"

"You came here for a kiss, didn't you?" I say. "You don't need to come inside for that."

"What if your neighbours see us?" Pedri asks.

"They aren't home right now."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Did you bring me the cookie?"

"I did" he says, showing me the small paper box. "But my kiss goes first."

"Fine" I say, giving him a peck.

"That isn't a kiss."

"It is."

"Not for us. I deserve one of our kisses, I got you flowers and a cookie, remember?"

"Ok, fine" I say again, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You are so needy, Pedri." 

"As if you didn't enjoy it" he smirks. "Kiss?"

"Shut up" I say, kissing him like he wanted me to while he hugs me against him, leaving no space between our bodies. 

"Someone is coming" I whisper against his lips when I hear the lift.

"What?"

"Inside, now" I say, pushing him in.

"Careful, Val! What if I get injured?"

"Not sorry. Last time you were out Barça played like shit, so" I shrug. "Can I get my cookie now?"

"You have a really nice place" he says, completely ignoring me.

"Thank you. My cookie?"

"Which one is your room?"

"Pedri…"

"This one?" 

"Can I please get my cookie?" I insist.

"Nah, this isn't yours. This one, on the other hand…" he says as he walks in.

"Hey!" I say, following him.

"Nice bed. Very comfortable."

"Get up from there."

"Why? Haven't you thought about me laying here?" he smirks.

"I haven't. Now get up."

"Liar."

"Pedri, get up from my bed."

"No."

"You asked for it" I say, grabbing him by the ankle and trying to move him, but he is way heavier than he looks.

"You are gonna end up hurting yourself" he chuckles.

"Then move!"

"No" he says, quickly sitting up and grabbing me by the waist, making me lay down with him.

"What are you doing?" I protest.

"Cuddling" he says with an innocent smile.

"I don't want to cuddle. I want my cookie and for you to leave. I have work to do."

"All that can wait" he says, moving us so we are spooning.

"Pedri…"

"That's my name, yes" he says while kissing my neck, the feeling making me shudder.

"You have to leave."

"No" he whispers, kissing my neck again as his hand moves under my t-shirt.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Pe…" But I can't keep talking, the feeling of his thumb over my nipple and his lips on my neck making me moan.

"Were saying?" he chuckles against my skin. 

"I… want…"

"Yes?" he says, kissing me and moving his thumb once again. 

"I want you to leave."

"No, you don't."

"I… I do. Leave."

"That's not what you want and you know it" he whispers in my ear while still moving his thumb, my hips unconsciously moving against him. "Tell me what you really want."

"I… I want…"

"Yes?" he whispers.

"I… I want you" I say, finally giving up.

"Didn't you want the cookie?" he teases me.

"No" I say, turning to face him. "I want you, Pedri. Now. Here. Naked and all over me, on me, inside me. I want you. All of you."

"Thought you would never ask, Valeria" he smiles before kissing me. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Val?" Silvia says, knocking on the door. "Val, are you awake?"

"Kind of" I grunt.

"You left your phone in the living room and your alarm has been going off for a while. If you don't get up you are going to be late for work."

"Just five more minutes."

"Ok… I'll be back in five minutes" she sighs. "Don't fall asleep again."

"I won't" I yawn.

"You are definitely falling asleep again" someone chuckles next to me before kissing my neck.

"Fuck!" I scream, sitting up on the bed.

"Or maybe not" Pedri laughs.

"What… What are you doing here?"

"That wasn't the first thing I expected to hear when I woke up today" he laughs again.

"What?" 

"I expected to wake up to something like good morning, handsome while we cuddled for a bit."

"Not happening" I say, leaving the bed.

"Next time then."

"There won't be a next time, Pedri" I say while looking for my underwear among all the clothes scattered on the floor.

"Ha!" 

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I don't believe a word you just said. And neither do you, to be honest."

"It won't happen again" I insist. 

"Sure, Val. Sure. And they are here, by the way."

"What?" 

"Your knickers" he says, nodding to his left. "I know because I threw them there. They are really cute, I like them."

"Shut up" I say, quickly picking them up and putting them on. "What time is it?" I ask while looking for something else to throw on.

"8:05."

"Fuck."

"What time do the classes start?"

"9:30."

"Then you still have time for some cuddles" he says.

"No, I don't. Because yesterday I should have washed my hair, and now I have to do that today. And shower. I'm all sticky."

"We had a good workout yesterday, didn't we? Or a few workouts" he smirks, putting an arm behind his head, his biceps popping. Focus, Valeria. Focus.

"Whatever" I say, managing to look away. 

"Why don't you come back here?"

"I've told you I can't! I have to shower, and get ready, and then it's Friday today, which means that there will be more traffic and the tube will be packed, and I'll probably be late. And it's all your fault."

"Mine? Why?"

"Do you seriously have to ask?" I say, rolling my eyes.

"It's not my fault I'm irresistible."

"Irre… whatever. I'm going to shower" I say after finally finding something to wear.

"Do you want compa… Ok, ok" he laughs after I give him my most murderous look. "But that t-shirt you are wearing is mine."

"Not anymore" I smile before leaving my room. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Why are you still here?" I say, walking into the kitchen after finishing getting ready.

"Val, manners!" Silvia scolds me.

"Why are you still here, Pedri?" I repeat, completely ignoring her.

"One, because I don't have a t-shirt and I can't go outside half naked, and two, because your lovely flatmate invited me to have breakfast with her."

"You did?"

"I couldn't let him leave on an empty stomach after all the exercise he did yesterday. He is a professional athlete but he also is human, you know?" Silvia says while sipping from her cup and trying to hide her smile. 

"Urgh" I groan.

"Where are you going now?"

"To find your t-shirt so you can finally leave!"

"And your breakfast?" Silvia asks.

"I'm not hungry!"

"But Val, you can't leave on an empty stomach either! You need to recharge your energy!" 

"I'm fine" I say when I'm back, throwing the t-shirt at Pedri's face. "And now you can leave."

"I'm not leaving until you eat something" he says.

"You two are so annoying."

"We just care about you. Don't we, P?" 

"We do."

"P?" I laugh. "Since when are you bffs?"

"Since we've been chatting a bit and getting to know each other. And I've also seen him shirtless and heard him while practicing a very intimate activity, something I didn't ask for despite wanting it to happen, but oh well. At least you guys had fun."

"We did" he smirks. 

"Well, if you aren't leaving, I am."

"Oh, c'mon Val" Silvia says. "Don't be like that."

"I can't be late on my second day of work."

"You can't and you shouldn't. But wait" Pedri says, quickly leaving the kitchen.

"Where is he going now?"

"I don't know" Silvia shrugs.

"Here" he says when he comes back.

"My cookie?" I chuckle.

"You didn't get to eat it yesterday. It may not taste as good, but at least you will be eating something."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome" he smiles. "Can I get a goodbye kiss?"

"A kiss is what got us into this mess, so no, you can't. Goodbye."

"Ok, fine" he sighs. "I'll text you later."

"I won't reply" I say, opening the door.

"That's what you always say, and then…" Pedri smirks, his smile being the last thing I see before I leave. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Were you late for work?

Nope

Thought you weren't going to reply to my texts 🤔

🙄

🥰 

What are your plans for the weekend?

Work

Boring

Not for me

I'm alone in the house this weekend

And? Are you scared? 😂

I actually am, yes. Will you come and make me company? 🥺 

Pass

I could show you around the neighborhood. And the weather still is nice, we could swim in the pool. And while I'm at training you can work. And then on Sunday you could come watch me play, it's the first game of the season. 

I'm not setting a foot on the Camp Nou 🤢

🙄🙄 

C'mon, Val. It'll be fun. A weekend just for you and I, getting to know each other. 

And you don't have to cheer for me. You can boo me if you want

That's what I'll probably do, yes. But from my sofa

Please, Valeria 🥺 

I would like to have you there

The game is at 9, I have to work on Monday

I'll drive you home after the game and then leave, I promise. 

No

Please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Fine 🙄  I'll think about it

I'll pick you up at 8 😊

Wait, what? I didn't say yes

When you say you'll think about it you always mean yes 🤷🏻‍♂️

I don't

Yes, you do 😊 

Pack some comfy clothes and something nice for the game. The pyjamas and the bikini are optional 😏

🙄

See you at 8! 🥰

[charlewiss-writes]

mein sieger / mick schumacher

masterlist

day 15: win (part of one-word november prompts!)

pairing: mick schumacher x reader

summary: after haas had dropped mick in the 2022 season, it had been a whole journey back to feeling like himself again, and returning to the grid.

warnings: poor translated german. not proofreaded enough given that i should be sleeping rn jajdjsjs

word count: 1.2k

abu dhabi, 2022.

you had never seen mick like this.

he was pacing his small driver room, fuming. if he could, he would've been walking on the walls too. the german boy was speaking a mixture of english and german, and you could only pick up a few of the things that he was saying, everything that came off his mouth sounding so unlike him. he, that was normally calm as the ocean, now furious as a tropical storm.

"I can't believe this. they told me i was in! god, i never should have trusted them. now I've got nowhere to go. fuck!" it was so strange to hear him swearing that it caught you off guard. you knew he was furious, and he had every right to be: haas had promised him the seat for next season, and last moment had backed off. mick now found himself stranded, without the chance of picking another team, given that the one where he was currently in made sure that he shouldn't negotiate anywhere else, due to him having his seat for next season secured.

"mick, baby, I'm sure this isn't the end. you'll come back." obviously you had plenty of faith in the words you were saying, but you didn't knew how he would react to them. he continued, now stopping on his track to get close to you. "how? I just fuck up cars. I don't have a single point off the last races. I'm a fucking fraud" at that last sentence, his voice got cut off due to the sob that escaped his lips. you quickly jumped to hug him tightly. and even though he doubled you in size, in that moment, mick looked like a lost child, and your heart broke at the sight. "hey hey, we won't go into that. you know it's not only your fault, mickie".

"yeah, but who's without a seat for next season? me".

you took his head out of the crook of your neck, and looked straight into his eyes, the once blue ocean that you saw in them and that brought you so much calm, now looking devastated, as they were filled with tears. softly, you whispered for only him to hear. "and you'll come back. maybe not next year, but I'm sure you'll find a way. and I'll be here when you get another chance".

—

and mick had been waiting for another chance for a while now.

he maintained busy with activities that didn't involve racing cars during 2023, his first year off, which included building a big portfolio full of pictures he took throughout the year. for the first time in forever, he could be present for birthdays, anniversaries and holidays. and even when you were immensely happy to have him with you, getting to fall asleep and wake up next to him, you knew that on the back of his mind, he was waiting to get a chance back at accomplishing his dreams, an opportunity to come back like he deserved, to fulfill what he believed was meant for him. written in the stars, in a way.

his first step to get back came with joining indycar in 2024, where his old mate callum, who he had raced alongside on f2 during the 2020 season, welcomed him with open arms. and even though the spark in his eyes had lightened up again, still, it wasn't as bright as it used to be.

a spark that you only saw again when 2025 came, and his old friend, sebastian vettel, called on a random evening, announcing that he was the new team principal at ferrari. it wasn't surprising to you when mick told you that the older german wasn't just calling to share the good news: he wanted him to be a driver for the scuderia, the same one that was deeply connected to him and his family due to his father, who had engraved his name in history by becoming champion of the world five times while dressed in red.

so here you were now, back in bahrain, to witness another start of the season, 3 years after the last one you got to see in 2022. with mick dressed in ferrari red, you couldn't do anything less than wear the famous rosso corsa yourself, with the surname of your boyfriend and his number on your back: schumacher 47.

you thought being a few years older, the nerves that came with every racing weekend would have subdued by now. but it was quite the opposite, you soon realised, as the expectations on your boyfriend's back where even bigger than before. not only he was making his comeback, trying to prove everyone that didn't trust him back in haas that they were wrong, but he had to embrace the legacy that came with being a schumacher dressed in red.

thankfully, everything went great. not only the car was working really well with him, being instantly comfortable with it, but also his teammate, charles, was a dream. the two of them had previous history, being close in age and both having the pressure of having their fate already written for them: il predestinato and the prince, heir of the legacy.

—

"it's mick schumacher, and it's his first f1 win here in bahrain! the prince brings ferrari back to their winning ways. 1-2 for the scuderia, with charles leclerc coming second! what a great result for the team, what a great start of the season for the cavallino rampante! I'm sure sebastian vettel is buzzing on the garage!".

mick jumped off of the car as quickly as he could after parking it behind the sign that indicated that he had taken first place and won the race. the other red car parked behind him, in close second, and his dear friend esteban went third. he swore he could be dreaming: not only was he back in the grid, but he was now part of a competent team, with a competitive car where he could fight for wins and podiums, just like he wished all those years ago when he first reached the category.

the blonde boy made his way quickly to the red sea of mechanics that engulfed his body whole when he first got close to them, buzzing with the feeling of another great season for the scuderia after charles got his first world drivers championship a year earlier. once they had let your boyfriend go, he got closer to you, being close but not exactly in the middle of it all. you could swore that his smile right now could have lighten up the whole race track, and even the city, too. his hair was all messed up due to the inevitably sweat that came with being on the car for too long, but he still looked like the most beautiful man to ever exist.

you beamed at him when you reached for his face, grabbing him by his neck to bring him closer, so you could share a little moment where you told him what you had said to him since you've met him, but now, it had more meaning behind. "never been more proud of you, mein sieger".

[whump-place]

Adopted.

9-Training.

Masterlist.

Content: Multiple Whumpees, Pet Whumpees, Conditioned Whumpees, Multiple Whumpers, Reluctant Whumper, Group punishment.

Ray knew something was coming when Liam got down to the basement himself. He tried sitting gracefully, keeping his head down and his hands folded on his lap. Maybe Liam would give him a second chance, maybe..., maybe if he showed he could learn Liam would accept him.

But of course that was just a childish thought.

"You know there's a new one, don't you? I like him, and so does Master."

Oh. No, he was just going to spit on his face how unworthy he was, again.

"And we want him to feel welcomed, so you know what will happen next. I trust you to at least be compliant."

Ray knew. Ray knew. And that was the worst part.

He didn't complain when his hands were tied behind his back, or when he was dragged up the stairs, or when he was thrown out in the rain. He tried to show some improvement in his behavior, and maybe he could be good. Just maybe if he took it all...

"Hi! Long time no see!" Leo greeted him, pulling him by the leash when Liam got tired of holding him. "The new's name is Micah! Or Amy, Star liked Amy, but I like both. Master said he got to use both names as long as he wanted. I wish I could have two names too."

He talked way too fast for Ray to even try to answer, but that was for the best, if Liam got bothered by his voice he would get muzzled.

After a few minutes, Star and the new Pet got in front of him. The new, Micah, was wearing Leo's jacket, and Ray knew Star had put make-up on him, he was perfect, just like all of them. Ray wasn't perfect.

Liam explained his mistakes, the way he was too dumb to learn anything, the way he was thrown out because his master didn't like him enough to at least sell him. He was just so worthless.

But then they said that. They said they were going to 'train' him again.

Ray did lose any will to fight them anymore, he learned after years of being their punching bag, but still. He feared 'training', Liam never really cared what kind of training he had to endure, as long as he learned something. Sometimes Ray pretended to understand what his mistakes are, just to earn the privilege of being forgiven.

He thought he was doing better.

His body curled up on itself, the rope was like sandpaper on his wrists, he was sure there would be blood soon enough if he kept cowering away, but that didn't matter. Anything was better than training. Training means he isn't trying hard enough to be a good boy. Trainin means pain, and blood, and being a step away from being the perfect Pet Master deserves!

Ray tried to look up at Micah, maybe he would understand. When their eyes locked up, he only saw the disgust everyone felt towards him.

"Please." He tried to beg, but he was quickly corrected by being kicked in the rib cage. All the air escaping his lungs.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts so much. Please. Please. He can be good. Please!

"Look at that! Liam, did you see that? I knew Micah would-!"

"Good. Next time go for the legs. He's trying to avoid his training." Star's excited voice was cut off by Liam, who instructed Micah where the next kick would land.

They all were smiling.

Ray closed his eyes. He knows how this is going to be, but he also knows there's no reason to keep his eyes open to look at them beating him up, and laughing at his weakness.

What was he expecting? Why did he ever try to believe his life would be better?

No one likes him. No one loves him. Not even Master.

Ray lays down, his face stained with mud when Star stepped on his head and pushed him against the floor.

At least he should be grateful to have a family, shouldn't he?

---

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist please let me know :)

--

Taglist;

@sola-whumping

@octopus-reactivated

@otterfrost

@taterswhump

@risk606

@silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING part. 18

Do I have a problem? Probably. I can't stop writing. And if you want to listen to "Movement" by Hozier during this chapter I recommend it!!

MASTERLIST

18. Betrayal

After two hours you finish your dress, a simple blue dress that is a little too elegant for the district but absolutely plain and casual for Capitol City, but this is the best that you can do with curtains - curtains you never saw and that disappeared and you know absolutely nothing about it. 

You hear the door open and Effie comes into the room, with a wide smile on her face and red cheeks.

«Why are you here? I thought you would sleep at Portia’s.» You ask, as curious as a monkey. 

«We decided not to make it fast.»

Oh. You did everything fast. One minute you said something about your feelings and the moment after you were moaning on his disgusting bed.

But then again, you were going to die, they are not.

«Wise women. So…?» You pat the bed, so she could sit there. 

«I don’t know, Daisy. I really don’t know. Mather would kill me.» You stroke her hair. Now that she has natural hair she is even more beautiful, you think. Strawberry blonde hair, you have no idea why she used to hide them. If you had strawberry blonde hair you would show them off everyday. 

«Welcome to the club, we meet on Saturdays.»

«I always thought we were friends. I loved her, but… I loved her as a friend. And now I’m feeling something else. I don’t know what I like, but I know I like Portia. I thought about losing her and I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe.» You take her hand.

When you discovered you liked Dianna you were terrified and alone, at the age of fourteen in your room with a big secret that you knew could be dangerous in a place like District 12. Now it doesn’t have to be like that for Effie. It won’t be like that for Effie, if you can do something about it. She is not alone. 

«I’m so happy for you, Effie. You deserve it.» You hug her tight. «And Portia is beautiful, you are beautiful, you will make a great couple at the party!» 

With the last word is like she wakes up from a dream, she has a wedding to prepare. She almost finished everything, always on schedule, always on time. 

«Oh yeah, the party. Do you want a dress? I managed to take some with me.» She opens the little wardrobe they gave you. There are two or three dresses, such a pity for all the beautiful things you are sure she has.

«Oh no I did it, but can I say it’s one of yours?» You innocently ask. «I don’t think they would like for me to use their curtains. And maybe Perla or Lora won’t have anything to wear.»

«Of course.» She laughs, but then her eyes soften a little. «Ehi, I’ve seen your mother around. She is always with that woman.»

That woman. Marjorie. You don’t really want to hate her, but it’s like she tries to steal everything from you. She befriended Holly, and you and your mother are not on the best terms right now. You say hi, ask her how she is and then nothing. It’s a pity, considering you two were really close before the games.

«Yeah, I know. They were friends when they were children or something, apparently Holly was her babysitter.» You scuff, clearly annoyed.

«Is that okay for you?» Effie is too polite to say what she wants to say. Holly, on the other hand, is never kind with her opinion on the woman.

«I suppose.» You look at her, «No. No, it’s not okay. She’s the woman that broke my heart. My mother shouldn't want to spend time with her.» You curl against her. You never sleep in your bed, maybe Portia won’t like it and you will begin to, but for now you want your cuddles. «Is that selfish of me?»

«Maybe.» She takes some hair out of your face. «But your mother should have you as a priority.»

«I don’t get it. She said she was sorry for Clark when she saw he wanted to kill me, now she is friends with the woman who stole Haymitch from me… and I know it’s bad to say, women don’t “steal”, but she kinda did it. Just her.» You pout. You are being unfair and you know it, Marjorie has been through hell, but she demanded her price without thinking of you. You were there. You exist.

«You know your mother didn’t want you two together.»

«Yeah, she probably is her best friend for this reason.» You shrug, «Maybe she would prefer me to be still perfect but dead.»

«Don’t even mention it. I prefer you very much alive, darling girl.» She wraps her arms around your waist.

«And that is why you are my best friend.» You watch her with a grin. «And now that Portia is your girlfriend, I can be your best friend too!»

«You are sweet, you know that?» She laughs at you. «Yes.»

After a morning spent trying to prepare a very frightened bride, it seems like you succeeded. Annie is beautiful in her white long dress, with her red hair wrapped in a complicated braid and a little bit of makeup on her face. She is very simple, the best definition for her is pure. She is pure.

She will be a very happy bride. 

«I’ll go check on the groom.» You announce, because you don’t trust the men to do a great job with Finnick. «I’ll come back.»

Finnick is, in fact, alone in his room. Stupid men. How is it that Annie is surrounded by her friends and the male companions didn’t think of it? Nobody should prepare himself alone on the day of his wedding. 

You knock, but he already saw you and he just smiles at you. «If you came because you are utterly in love with me and you want to beg me to cancel the wedding, I’m afraid I can’t anymore.»

You roll your eyes. «You break my heart.»

«Well with you in this dress, likewise.» 

His flirting means nothing, you are well aware he is stranded with love for Annie Cresta. You admit you are beautiful today, tho. The dress you sew yourself suits you like a glove, and now you are wrapped in a long blue dress with a low cleavage - just to spite your mother - and a round skirt. Your raven hair is up in a loose braid, and you went for simple makeup too, it is all you have after all.

«Do you need help with that, Odair?» You ask, lifting the tie. He does not, you already know that, they are great with knots in District Four, but it’s a bit of a tradition. Mags is not there for him, and nobody apparently cares enough to stand with him - he is very close to Katniss, but the poor girl is not in her right mind at the moment, losing Peeta broke her. 

You can step up for a minute.

«If you want.» He flashes a smile at you. He is so happy and so calm. He is twenty four and he is getting married, and he is calm.

«How am I more nervous than you are?» You tease, while you knot the tie. 

«Annie is the woman of my life and I love her?» He guesses. «I’m sure of my intention. I want a family with her, raise a bunch of children, and I want to love her forever. Why would I be nervous? This is the first thing I’m sure of in my entire life.» 

Your smile fades a little. You are being selfish, but you can’t help but compare the situation. Finnick is sure he wants a future with Annie, and they went through hell and back to be with each other. Finnick was abused, Annie was tortured, and yet they were never in doubt with the love they had for each other. She is his first thought in the morning and the last at night. They are what poetry is about. 

He was her mentor too. They have just a few years of difference, but he was the first fourteen years old victor in the history of Panem. He has loved her since he was sixteen, like in a fairy tale.

«I envy you. What you have is precious.» You cup his cheek on your hand and squeeze a little in reassurance. «I’m sure you won’t waste it.»

«You will have that too. One day someone will step on the door and you’ll know you will love him forever.» 

You can’t help but shake your head. «I wanted it with someone and he didn’t. End of story.»

«End of story? You are twenty four!» He protests, but you shush him. 

«This is your wedding day. Let’s not talk about me.»

«Finnick for fucks sakes why you didn’t tell me- oh. Sweetheart.» 

Haymitch barges in the room like a fury, raging about something until he sees you. He is in his jumpsuit, didn’t bother to change into something more fitting for the occasion, but he is still handsome. His hair is brushed and he cutted his beard.

Or she did it for him.

Capitol City, two days before the games

You have been in the bathroom for an hour now and you didn’t accomplish anything. Alone you would, but your mentor is not as disciplined as you.

«Dear heavens Haymitch, I will hurt you! I have a blade in my hand!» You laugh, trying to sneak out of his embrace. He doesn’t let you go, though. Too busy kissing your neck, biting your collarbone like a damn cannibal.

«Why bother with the beard when we could spend our time together in a different, tastier way?» He grins as he puts a hand on your thigh, trying to open your legs a little. He is not gentle, he is never gentle, but he can handle his strength and he is sure he is not hurting you. 

«Tastier? Am I a cake?» You giggle. 

«You are delicious, sweetheart.» Now his hand is definitely between your legs, and you can’t think about anything when he kisses you like that.

«And you will be handsome when we cut your beard! Hands where I can see them!» You order. 

«You like my beard.» He pouts. He actually pouts. He is adorable when he is vulnerable, and you can’t help but kiss him again and again and again.

«Yeah, when it’s in control. Now it’s out of control and your hands shake too much to do it alone.»

«I trust you with a blade, gorgeous.» He grins like a devil, «It’s just hard to stay close to you without touching you.»

«Really?» You wrap your arms around his neck. «Are you whipped like that?» 

«I refuse to answer.» He locks you in his arms and pecks your lips. «Hi beautiful.»  

You look at him in a way that you really hope he doesn’t understand. «Hi. We won’t shorten the beard, will we?»  

«Let's see, shorten a beard or devour my girl?»

In the end, you didn’t cut the beard.

«Hi.»

He looks at you. You feel proud that his eyes go wide and he can’t stop wandering through your body for a moment before recollecting himself. You always loved how he watched you, like you are something precious, to protect. You don’t think you need protection so much, but you want someone who is willing to do that.

And then you remember you don’t have him anymore.

«Hi.» You answer, trying to keep your voice down.

«You look nice.» He offers, as he takes a step next to you. You are not sure you want him close, if you can’t kiss him. 

«You don’t look so bad yourself. You shaved.» You point out, memories creep in your mind. 

He shrugs, «Yeah, I needed it and it’s a way to keep Katniss out of her thoughts.»

So it’s Katniss who helped him, not Marjorie. It’s nothing, but you feel happier already. Although you don’t know if it’s safe to keep Katniss near a blade right now. 

«She did a good job.» You grant. He takes another step closer to you.  

«She didn’t cut my throat and that’s enough, I suppose. Nice dress.» 

You can’t help but grin when his eyes stare again at your body, knowing that he wants it too. A month ago he could have ripped it out of you at the end of the day. You would lie if you refused to admit you did sew it thinking about his reaction.

«I did it myself.» You add, very much proud of your job. 

«You are talented, I’ll give you that.» He caresses your hip with the palm of his hand and you whimper. «Are you going alone tonight?»

«All alone, yes. Well, with Perla and Lora.» You don’t want to ask him that stupid question. You know he doesn’t go alone at the wedding, he is taking that disgusting woman and you don’t want to be reminded of that.

You don’t speak anymore and neither does he, but you stay there, he has a hand on your waist, you begin to do small circles on his arm with your finger, your hazel eyes locked into his blue ones, and you really don’t want to move because for a minute you can pretend he is taking to the wedding, that everything is normal again.

Until Finnick clears his throat. 

«I feel very much ignored on my wedding day.» He declares, annoyed and offended. «Now, Haymitch has to stay with me at the altar and Daisy needs to help Annie, so go.»

«I’ll go, I’ll go!» You jump at his voice and you run to the door, back to reality.

You end up crying at the wedding. The ceremony is beautiful, Finnick and Annie are burning with happiness and they are so beautiful, they sincerely look like a team. If there’s someone out there who deserves it it’s Finnick. 

Also, the cafeteria is very nice and you are proud of what you and the others have done, the atmosphere is almost magical for a grey and sad place such as District 13. 

When the groom and the bride start the dance, you go sit down at a table. You are not in the mood for dancing, not with Holly who watches you like a hawk and Marjorie who is begging Haymitch to take her for a dance, claiming too loudly that he danced when he was sixteen and it’s just like a bicycle.

Effie and Portia are dancing together, and you don’t want to disturb them, Lora is nowhere to be seen, you are content just to stay alone.

«I refuse to see you like that.»

Perla sits next to you and she takes your hand in hers, and she ignores your glare. She is very beautiful tonight, she borrowed a dress from Effie that fits her like a glove, a bustier sundress white and silver. Not exactly Effie’s colours - she’s great in golden, but then again she must have packed the most simple dresses she had. 

Her auburn hair is let loose on her shoulders and, well, her sparkling blue eyes are always mesmerising. 

«Perla! I was perfectly fine-»

«Watching your ex dancing with his girlfriend? No way. You are hot. You are young. He is the one who has to eat his guts in regret.» She seems very convinced, and she is your friend, but you would really prefer to stay on your seat. «I’ve met someone.»

«Perla, it’s fantastic! Who’s the lucky guy?» You ask her, curious, but she dismisses.

«Not important.»

«Must be very special.» You deadpan.

She ignores you. «What’s important is that he has a friend.» 

You immediately shake your head. «No way. I’m sorry but I’m not ready for…»

«I’m not offering you the love of your life! Flirt a little, give him a kiss, have mind blowing sex to help you forget! That’s what boys are for. His name is Caius. C’mon… you know you want it…»

You roll your eyes and you are about to say no, but then you see them. Marjorie succeeded in the begging, and now they are dancing and laughing about something. He is not a dancer for sure, but he is trying, and she looks like she’s having the time of her life, smiling so hard that her face will ache tomorrow. They whisper and talk and sometimes she gives him a kiss on the cheek, always a little closer to the mouth. 

They are objectively cute. Same age, same district, same passions and same history. Made to be together. 

You repress the urge to cry. 

«Okay.» You tell her, «Take me to Caius.»

Caius is a good looking man. He is thirty, a guard in District 13 (You wonder if there are other jobs in this bloody district), he has blonde hair and green eyes, he is fit and tall. Good looking indeed.

And he is utterly, majestically, completely boring.

He takes you to dance and his hands are too low on your back for their own good, while he has a smile on his face that you claim all your patience not to call “stupid”.

C’mon, you are being mean. You are being mean and he is surely a great guy.

«…And that is how I managed to become a guard. I’ve watched you in the games.» He begins, and you try not to tense. You never talk or think about the games, but during the night sometimes you scream until Effie wakes you up and then you cry into her arms. Saint Effie. «The way you killed that man? Clever.»

You force a smile at him. At least now he wants you to talk, after half an hour of monologue. «I wish I wouldn’t. I had to.» You remind him. It has not been exactly a choice. 

«Yeah, yeah, of course. Now you are safe.» 

«Thank you, by the way. Your district saved us.» Your bloody disgusting district who nearly killed your lover.

Ex lover.

«When we take the Capitol, everything will be like District 13.» You hope you die before it. 

«Although… There are things I miss. Like the sun. Or the clothes! Don’t you want your own clothes?» You try. You really miss the sun, you are used to take care of Haymitch’s garden at home, and grow your plants. You miss the damn geese. 

«What do you mean? You have clothes.» He is confused. It’s okay he is confused, he grew up in hell.

«These are not clothes, they are uniforms. Clothes are supposed to be different, to be yours. You can express yourself through your choice of clothing. Like, I used to braid daisies in my hair and embroider them in my dresses.»

«Why?» 

«Because… My name is Daisy.» You look at him and you decide that the talking part is done.

The kissing part is no better. You don’t have that much experience, but even his kisses are boring. There is too much tongue, his hands are exploring you like you are a new continent and yet you don’t feel anything.

Nothing. Dry like the desert. 

«You are beautiful.» He pants. That, you like. You don’t like so much he took you in a dark corner and started to kiss your neck, but then again… at least it’s not your mouth.

«Thanks.» You answer and you kiss him again, absolutely not because Haymitch is looking at you. 

«Can’t wait to be in my room.» He keeps going. He talks a lot. «The things I’ll do to you.» 

«Yeah? Like what?» You try, you really try. Your hand is on his firm chest and you lift up your leg a little against his pants, just to give him a peek of what it could be having you. 

«Well, like… well I’ll show you.» He blabbers and you reprime the urge to roll your eyes. 

«Of course you will.» You pat his chest in a very friendly way and straight up. «Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet.» 

«I’ll wait here!» He offers, but you shake your head.

«Don’t need to, I’ll find you!»

You won’t.

You run through the corridor and stay there. You are hiding like a coward, but it’s better to listen to him talking again and again and it’s surely better than watching the wonderful couple dancing together. Oh, and Holly was looking at you like you were a complete disappointment and you probably are and…

«There you are.» You suddenly feel a hug from behind and you are ready to tell Caius to go away, but it’s not his voice, it’s another. A voice that should be dancing with a new girlfriend.

«What are you doing here?» You ask harshly, but you relax in his embrace. 

«I’ve seen you storming out and I got worried.» He makes you turn around and his face darkens. «Why are you crying? Did he do something to you? I’ll-»

«No.» You put a hand on his chest to block him. You didn’t even realise you were crying. «He didn’t do anything. He is nice.» 

«You like him?» He asks, and his voice is more accusing than what he is right to be. 

«So what if I do?» You shoot back, but then you make a face. There’s no point in lying. «No, I don’t. I tried. He is fucking boring.»

«Sweetheart…» He cups your face with his callous hands. It’s funny, Caius is your age, he is better looking, he is fitter… and yet right now you would jump Haymitch’s bones just because he caressed your cheek. «That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You have to find someone you really like. Even if it takes longer.»

You really don’t want a lecture from him, just because he found his person, his “One”. He was your One. He has no right to tell you what to do.

«I just wanted to fuck.» You answer bluntly, or better yet, you lie. You had no intention of going into his room. «Do you have a problem with that too?»

«No.»

«Good. So don’t save me when I fall, don’t punch people because of me, don’t follow me in dark corners, don’t do anything! Don’t talk to me, don’t touch me because every time you do that I want you more!» You push him away, clearly hurt. He is taken by surprise. «So what if I want to fuck all the boys from District 13? I’ll do that and then I’ll fuck away the pain and it doesn’t matter if I’ll be-»

You can’t finish your sentence, because his lips are on yours in a crashing kiss. His arms are around your waist and his hands on your back and he almost crushes you, but you let him. In a moment you are against the wall, and you know you should stop but you won’t. 

«I can’t stop thinking about you.» He whispers against your lips. «I try and I end up following you like a fucking lovesick puppy.»

You can’t help but smile fondly. «Because I’m perfect.»

«Because you are perfect.» He agrees, even though it was a joke, and he lifts you up, his hands touch you in places that are his. There’s not even competition.

«I should let you go.» He murmurs, but this time you are ready, this time you kiss away his doubts. 

«Don’t let me go.» You whisper in his ear.

«I’m being selfish.» He protests, but your hands are already unbuttoning his shirt. «When I saw you with that man I-» He kisses you again, with rage, with jealousy, but when the clothes are on the floor and you two are one, there is no doubt who you belong to. 

taglist: @crimsonincursive

[toon-tales]

Hiya! Have another chapter of the 'Branch has a child' au, because I love this au so much!

Anyway, this takes place after Branch confessed to Poppy in Twt

Your comments and thoughts are always appreciated and welcomed! Enjoy!

Branch knew he was better off keeping his love hidden. He had a child counting on him, for crying out loud.

Besides, he had always known his dark and gloomy exterior would never be enough for someone as vibrant and colorful as the queen of pop herself. But the case now was different. He had gotten his colors back, his relationship with Poppy was significantly better, and maybe he valued their friendship too much to jeopardize it by revealing his feelings for her.

But every time he saw her smile, heard her laugh, or watched her dance, his love for her only grew stronger. Poppy was the embodiment of joy that Branch secretly yearned to embrace. She, with her infectious enthusiasm and relentless optimism, was like a beacon of light in Branch's often shadowed world. He couldn't help but feel drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, even though he had believed he was destined to linger in the background, unnoticed and unloved.

He loved her, so much.

And he wasn't even aware of himself confessing at Volcano rock city that fateful day until she had said "I love you too, Branch."

And now, he was facing the consequences of this moment of weakness.

His eyes wandered, his gaze landing on his daughter, that little bundle of joy who had brightened his life in more ways than he could have ever imagined. She was innocent and pure, still so new to the world he had prevented her from for so long, and in need of his care and attention.

He watched her gracefully play with youngsters from different types of trolls, exploring her surroundings with wide-eyed wonder, and couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility and protectiveness towards her. Rosiepuff was so full of curiosity and energy, always eager to learn and discover new things. She kind of reminded him of a younger version of Poppy, with her vibrant personality and infectious laughter, and he smiled at the thought, feeling Poppy's grip tighten around his hands, her gaze on him, and it made his stomach churn. He wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Poppy..." he started, his voice low, "I... I can't... I-I shouldn't have said that..."

And at those words, the queen felt her world shatter. "What...?"

"I have a daughter..." Branch murmured. "And she's been locked up for so, so long..."

"She can explore all she wants!" Poppy exclaimed, her voice laced with hope. "We'll be by her side! We won't leave her alone, ever!"

Branch shook his head. His hands slowly retreated from his lover's, despite his heart protesting. It hurt. But he'll just hurt both of them if he said yes. "It's just that... she needs her father, you know?" his voice was soft as he continued, "and I haven't been what she deserves." He paused, smiling just a fraction. "But I'm here now, and she needs this new me. And you won't..."

"Won't what, Branch?" Poppy persisted. "You know I love Rosiepuff like a daughter."

"I know, I know..."

"Then what?"

"It won't be fair to either of you, okay?"

Poppy looked at him, really looked at him. "What do you... mean?"

The older sighed. "Poppy, I love you, alright? But if we got together, then I can't promise to always be present."

Poppy nodded. "I understand-"

"You don't," Branch interrupted. "You just... don't..."

"Then help me understand!"

"Look, Poppy, I love you. Really, really love you," Branch uttered, "but we just can't be..." And with that, he turned away, heading outside to get his daughter and go home.

But unknownst to the pair, their conversation wasn't as personal as they thought.

---------------

Rosiepuff's brows furrowed, her coloring coming to a halt as the earlier interaction between her father with Poppy rang in her head.

He sounded so sad, you could hear it in his voice as he was talking to Poppy. He would sound so melancholic when talking about her now, too, even after days. And in all honesty, it was confusing the little girl. She has always watched him closely, noticing the way his eyes would light up despite the sadness when he spoke of Poppy, the way his voice would soften with affection. It was clear to Rosiepuff that her father loved the queen, but there was something that she couldn't quite comprehend.

Why was he so... sad? Almost like before?

She didn't want him to turn back to his old self. Don't get her wrong, Rosiepuff loved her father dearly; he took her in and took care of her, and he always made her feel special. Maybe because she was the only person he would hug when the hug time bracelets went off. But either way, she loved and respected him. Though a part of her, a really big part of her, as much as she hated to say it, didn't want the old Branch.

She loved the new one. The one who would sing her to sleep, who would let her play outside (even if he's keeping an eye on her from afar), the one who smiled and talked and laughed.

She wasn't ready to lose that version. Not now, not ever.

She stood up, making her way to the living room. If her father had taught her that talking about her feelings made her feel better, so that's what she was going to do to him.

"Daddy?"

Branch's head snapped up, the book in his hand momentarily forgotten at his daughter's look. "Yes, sweetie?"

"We need to talk."

Branch blinked at her tone, setting the book aside. "Okay..."

Rosiepuff took a deep breath. "You're sad."

"What?" Branch chuckled. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

Rosiepuff crossed her arms over her chest, her pastel-yellow cheeks gaining a hint of pink. She wasn't used to playing the playfully-strict daughter. "Why aren't you honest?"

"And who said I'm not being honest?" Branch asked, smiling despite himself.

"You look sad..." Rosiepuff muttered. "I don't want you sad..."

"Sweetheart, I'm not sad," the older assured her, "I'm just... thinking."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Old people stuff."

Rosiepuff eyed him. This was going to be harder than she thought. "Like 'girlfriend' stuff?" she asked, desperate for any information her father might give, and genuinely concerned. "What does it even mean?"

"Oh, um, a girlfriend is..." Branch hesitated, unsure how to explain such topic to a seven-year old. He pondered for a good minute, before saying, "When a boy loves a girl so much, and she loves him too, they become boyfriend and girlfriend." Simple, perfect, at least for now.

"So kind of, like, a special relationship between a boy and a girl?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you can say that."

Rosiepuff hummed in thought. "So if you love aunt Poppy so much, why did you say no to her when she asked you to be her boyfriend?"

Branch's eyes widened. "What? Rosiepuff, were you eavesdropping on us?"

The girl looked away. "No..." she murmured, but her father's gaze on her was too intense. "Alright, maybe I did hear bits of the conversation. But you guys were loud!"

"Loud, huh?" Branch propped, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes, you two were so loud."

Branch's hand flew to his face. "Sweetheart, I understand you're curious, but eavesdropping is wrong. Don't do it again."

"Okay..." Rosiepuff's smile returned. "Now tell me why!"

"Rosie, there are some things that you shouldn't intervene in, okay?" End of discussion.

But Rosiepuff went on, "You can talk to me, Daddy! I thought our relationship was built on trust!"

The cyan troll shook his head. "Trust, yes. But you're still too young for this kind of conversation."

Rosiepuff's heart sank as her father dismissed her attempt to get him to open up. But who was she to give up? "But Daddy, I can handle it!"

Branch shook his head, his expression a mix of sadness and reluctance. "Rosie, there are some things that you shouldn't have to worry about. Dad's got it under control, okay? Just trust me on this."

But Rosiepuff wouldn't be deterred. "But trust goes both ways, Daddy. You've always told me that we can talk about anything."

Branch sighed, his gaze softening as he looked at his determined daughter. "I appreciate your concern, Rosie. And I do trust you, more than you know. But this is something that I need to figure out on my own. It's complicated."

Rosiepuff glanced up at Branch with a thoughtful expression, her young mind trying to make sense of the situation. She bit her lip hesitantly before tentatively speaking up.

"Daddy, I know it's complicated, but... I just want you to be happy. And if aunt Poppy makes you happy, then I'm okay with that," she said in a small voice, her words laced with sincerity.

Branch's eyes widened in surprise at her words, a mix of emotions swirling within him. "You... you really mean that?" he asked, his voice soft and vulnerable.

Rosiepuff nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yes, Daddy." Before her face fell again. "But... you'll still hang out with me, right?"

Branch's smile took a softer turn. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, "nothing and no one could ever take me away from you, you know that."

Rosiepuff hummed in response. Maybe she should have thought about this more.

"Come here." Branch opened his arms, and slowly, ever so slowly, his daughter buried herself in his lap. His grin widened. "You know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, right?"

"I know..."

"Then you should know that no one ever is going to replace you."

She looked up at him. "Really?"

"Really." Branch confirmed. "And if you're not good with me getting into a relationship yet, then It's okay-"

"No!" Rosiepuff suddenly exclaimed. "I'm good, promise! But... if you dated aunt Poppy, does that make her my mommy?"

Branch smiled. Poppy was not exaggerating when she said Rosiepuff was like a daughter to her. He could see how eager she was to the idea. "It does, sweetie-"

"So she'll live with us?!" Rosiepuff asked eagerly, her eyes wide.

Her father chuckled "Not yet. But eventually, yes."

"We'll be officially a family?!"

"Mhm."

And that was enough to send the girl jumping up and down, squealing with delight.

And Branch, for the first time in months, felt a weight lift off his shoulders. At least for now.