#but we should see the journey she took to get there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

santaasi · 1 month ago

Text

obviously blind

pairing: james potter x bsf!fem!reader

summary: for years, james potter thought he was chasing love. sirius black knew better — he’d been holding it all along.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love, james calls reader love, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 11.3k

a/n: it was probably the longest idea to write and edit. i rewrote every moment a bunch of times trying to bring it all to perfection. therefore, this time I hope more than ever that you will like it and you will support me with a like, comment or reblog. have a nice time reading this work! love u <3

ᯓ★ now playing…

slaves – footprints

You left your mark on me like footprints in the snow

Would you promise me you'll never let me go

November 15, 1971 My dear best friend, Hogwarts is brilliant! You should see the castle; it’s massive, with these moving staircases that sometimes take you to places you didn’t even mean to go! I tried to get to Charms class last week and ended up in the Trophy Room instead. Sirius says it’s part of the fun, and I’m starting to agree. Speaking of fun, I made a new friend! His name’s Sirius Black, and he’s a bit of a troublemaker like me. Don’t tell Mum, but we might’ve let some Filibuster’s Fireworks off in the Great Hall during lunch. The teachers were furious, but the look on their faces was worth it. How’s Beauxbatons? Is it true your castle is magical in a totally different way? Sirius said something about unicorns roaming the grounds. Is that real? Write me everything—I want to know what it’s like over there. Hope you’re having as much fun as I am. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK WAS UTTERLY SPENT. Not the charming, rakish kind of spent he might brag about after a late night of mischief, but truly, completely, soul-drainingly done. The journey to the Potter family cottage, which should have been a brisk jaunt, had turned into a Herculean trial. Blame the snowstorm that had swept through magical London like some vengeful Norse curse, burying everything in its path under heaps of frosty misery.

It started with a delayed train — no, not delayed, imprisoned. Sirius and James were already aboard when the announcement came, trapping them in a stuffy carriage surrounded by loudly complaining wizards and at least one crying baby. And because the universe clearly found Sirius’ misery entertaining, the train came to a jolting halt halfway to their destination, snow packing the tracks so thickly that it took hours of magical clearing before they moved again.

When they finally arrived at the station, they discovered that Mr. Potter, their much-needed savior with a warm car and a better attitude than either of them, had been delayed at work. Thus, Sirius and James were left to trudge through the snow-laden countryside, dragging their trunks behind them, with James’ endless chatter about Lily Evans ringing in Sirius’ ears like a persistent curse.

“Her smile, Padfoot,” James had sighed dreamily at least seventeen times, his glasses fogging up as if even thinking about Lily caused them to malfunction. “And the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating—”

By the sixteenth sigh, Sirius had been sorely tempted to shove a fistful of snow into James’ face. By the seventeenth, he was mentally composing a list of Unforgivable Curses and ranking them by efficiency. Yet, even as he grumbled under his breath, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to abandon the trek. The Potters were the closest thing he had to a family, and spending Christmas anywhere else — no matter how dire the journey — was unthinkable.

When they finally reached the Potter home, Sirius didn’t so much step inside as collapse into it. He shoved the front door open with the dramatic flair of a man escaping death itself and sprawled across the polished wooden floor like a martyr for his own cause. His trunk fell beside him with a satisfying thud.

“Home at last,” he groaned, voice muffled against the rug. “Tell me, Prongs, do they serve last rites before cinnamon rolls, or do we skip straight to the feast?”

The cottage, of course, was as warm and welcoming as Sirius remembered. Strings of fairy lights twinkled across the beams, casting a cozy glow of red, gold, and green. A holly wreath hung crookedly on the wall — lil’James’ handiwork, no doubt — and the scent of pine mingled with the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon, butter, and something sweet. Sirius’ stomach growled audibly.

“Oi, shut it, you ungrateful mutt,” James shot back with a grin, though Sirius could see his friend’s eyes darting toward the kitchen. “You’re embarrassing us in front of the wreath.”

James hadn’t even set his trunk down before a figure appeared in the doorway.

At first, Sirius barely registered her presence. He was too busy muttering about the injustice of underage magic restrictions. But then — oh, then — she stepped fully into view.

A girl.

Not just any girl, but you.

You moved with a kind of quiet confidence that Sirius instantly clocked, your steps unhurried, your presence undeniable. The golden glow of the fairy lights danced across your hair, giving it a shimmer that seemed almost unreal. You were wrapped in a deep blue jumper — Sirius realized this after a moment’s brain lag — and your cheeks were rosy, likely from the heat of the kitchen.

You carried a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, the scent of melted sugar and spice trailing after you like some kind of domestic enchantment. Sirius’ mouth went dry, and for the first time in years, he was at a loss for words.

“Well,” he managed after a beat, hauling himself upright and trying for a semblance of decorum. “Now I see why you were so keen to come home, Prongs. You’ve got cinnamon-roll-bearing angels dropping out of the sky.”

You laughed, soft and melodic, the sound so unguarded it seemed to wrap the room in warmth. Sirius couldn’t help but notice the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts inviting and mysterious.

“Hello to you too, Sirius,” you said, your voice carrying a familiarity that made his ears perk up.

Sirius blinked. Wait. Of course. This wasn’t some celestial being summoned to his rescue; this was James’ childhood best friend. The one James had vaguely mentioned — just a handful of times over the years, always in passing and with a strange softness that Sirius hadn’t thought to question before.

And yet, here you were. In the flesh. Standing in the middle of the Potters’ living room with a tray of baked goods and a smile that Sirius suspected had the power to stop traffic.

“Well, well, Jamie-boy,” Sirius drawled, nudging James with his elbow and watching his friend with amused curiosity. “You never told me the famous cinnamon-roll angel was also — what’s the word? Ah, yes — real.”

You raised an eyebrow at Sirius’ antics, though your smile didn’t falter. Instead, you glanced toward James, who looked like he’d been hit with a Confundus Charm.

Sirius smirked. “James, mate, you alright? You’ve gone all... slack-jawed.”

But James wasn’t paying him any attention. His hazel eyes were locked on you, wide and brimming with something Sirius couldn’t quite place. He watched as James' gaze traced over the streak of flour smudged on your cheek, the stray strands of hair escaping from your ponytail, and the red apron dusted with flour and cinnamon.

Sirius almost snorted aloud. This was the James Potter who couldn’t shut up about Lily Evans — the boy who spent half his waking hours plotting ways to win her over. And yet, here he was, staring at you like you’d just descended from the heavens.

“Jamie,” you said softly, setting the tray down on the nearby table.

It was just one word, but the way you said it — warm, tender, and utterly unguarded — sent a jolt through Sirius.

Before he could process what was happening, James crossed the room in a few long strides and swept you into his arms. You squealed in surprise, and the sound was pure delight, echoing off the walls.

Sirius blinked, startled. The way James held you — hands firm on your waist, his head dipping into the crook of your neck — wasn’t friendly, not by a long shot. Sirius had known James since he was eleven years old, had seen him charm and flirt with half of Hogwarts, but he had never seen this.

“Missed me, Jamie?” you teased, your fingers slipping into his unruly hair with the kind of ease that spoke of years of familiarity.

“Always,” James murmured, so quietly Sirius barely caught it.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

He glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to explain this baffling scene, but it was just him, James, and you, wrapped up in some intimate little bubble that made Sirius feel like an intruder.

James murmured something into your shoulder — too soft for Sirius to catch — and you laughed, your voice light and unrestrained. The sound pulled James’ head up, and Sirius couldn’t miss the way his eyes traced your face with a kind of devotion Sirius had only read about in sappy romance novels.

It was then that the memories began to click into place. The scattered mentions over the years, the odd tone James always took when he talked about you. “She’s not like anyone else, Padfoot. She just gets it.” Or that one summer when James had come back to Hogwarts looking utterly miserable and wouldn’t explain why. Sirius had teased him about it for weeks, thinking it was Lily-related. But now, seeing the way James looked at you...

“Wait a minute,” Sirius blurted, his grin widening as realization dawned. “You’re the one. The one he’s always sneaking off to write letters to, the one he’s all secretive about.”

James shot him a glare, his cheeks burning bright red.

“Padfoot—”

“—the one who sent him that hideous scarf last Christmas!” Sirius continued, thoroughly enjoying himself now. “I knew there had to be someone. Prongs doesn’t just get that moony-eyed look over just anyone.”

You laughed again, covering your face with your hands, while James muttered something about strangling Sirius later.

Before Sirius could needle him further, the kitchen door creaked open, and Euphemia Potter swept into the room. She was radiant as always, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her dark hair streaked with silver. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw James.

“There’s my boy!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug before he could even attempt to protest.

“Hi, Mum,” James mumbled, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Euphemia pulled back, cupping his face in her hands as though memorizing every detail. “It’s been too long, Jamie. Too long. You’re far too skinny — have you been eating properly at school? And what have you done with your hair?”

James groaned, though his smile was fond.

Then her eyes fell on Sirius, and the warmth in her expression grew tenfold.

“Sirius, my dear,” she said, moving toward him with open arms. “I’m so glad you’re home, too.”

Sirius froze for a moment, caught off guard. He wasn’t used to this — the genuine affection, the way Euphemia made him feel like he belonged.

When her arms wrapped around him, the embrace firm and filled with love, Sirius felt an odd lump form in his throat. He couldn’t help but think of his own mother’s cold, perfunctory hugs, her disdainful gaze, and the way her affection always felt like a transaction.

“You’ve grown even handsomer,” Euphemia said, pulling back to study him. “Fleamont’s going to be jealous.”

Sirius managed a crooked grin, the lump in his throat still stubbornly there. “That’s the goal, Mrs. Potter. Keep him on his toes.”

Euphemia laughed, her eyes twinkling, before cupping his cheek briefly. “You’re family now, Sirius. Never forget that.”

Satisfied, Euphemia turned her attention to you. Her face softened even more, and she reached out to squeeze your hands. “Oh, there you are, dear. I was wondering where my helper had gone. The mince pies won’t bake themselves, you know”

You shot James a quick, playful glance before following Euphemia toward the door. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you said, your smile lingering.

As Mrs. Potter ushered you toward the door to finish the pies, Sirius remained rooted to the spot. The warmth from her hug lingered, and for a fleeting moment, he thought of how lucky James was to have parents like that — and how lucky he was to have stumbled into their lives.

James watched you leave, his gaze following you until you were out of sight. Sirius couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mate,” he said, clapping James on the shoulder. “You’re a goner.”

James huffed, shoving him away, but the goofy grin on his face was impossible to hide.

And Sirius? Sirius couldn’t wait to see how this played out.

July 2, 1973 My Love, Summer’s only just started, and I can’t wait to see you. Mum’s already planning another one of her “legendary” tea parties, which means she’ll fuss over you endlessly. You’ll smile politely and charm her like always, and she’ll end up spoiling you with biscuits to take back to Beauxbatons. I’ve got so much to tell you. Sirius and I found this secret passageway that leads straight to Hogsmeade. We’ve been practicing spells to make it even harder for Filch to find us. Remus is shaking his head, but I think he secretly loves our schemes. Oh, and Lily—she’s still brilliant. She’s got the most incredible laugh. But you, my love, I bet your laugh would still outshine hers any day.

Do you still walk in those Beauxbatons gardens at sunset? I can imagine you there, glowing in the soft light. It suits you. Write me back quickly, won’t you? The days are always better when I hear from you. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK HAD ALWAYS KNOWN JAMES POTTER WAS A TACTILE PERSON. James spoke fluently in the language of touch — claps on the back that lingered just a second too long, overly enthusiastic shoulder bumps that almost knocked you off your feet, and the occasional arm slung around your shoulders like he was staking a claim. But this? This was something else entirely.

It wasn’t just the way James touched you. It was the way he seemed to orbit you, like some lovesick moon drawn to its planet. Wherever you were, James was never far behind — hovering, grinning, completely and utterly besotted without even realizing it. And for someone so allegedly brilliant, he was astoundingly stupid about it.

Sirius noticed it within minutes of their arrival at the Potter cottage for the holidays. As the snow settled outside, so did James — right beside you, always beside you. If you were arranging the flowers Euphemia had insisted on, James was there offering suggestions like he’d suddenly become an expert on floral arrangements. If you were curled up in the drawing room with a book, James was sprawled across the nearest sofa, pretending to read but actually just watching you out of the corner of his eye like some hopeless romantic idiot in a badly written Muggle novel.

Sirius had been rolling his eyes so much, they were practically stuck in the back of his head.

THE SECOND MORNING WAS WHEN THINGS REALLY CLICKED. Sirius had woken up earlier than usual — a rare and uncomfortable event for him. He had no plans to do anything productive, of course, but the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway intrigued him. Padding out of his room, he peeked around the corner just in time to see James sneaking toward the kitchen.

Naturally, Sirius followed. He found James standing at the counter, sleeves rolled up like some kind of domestic god, arranging breakfast with the precision of someone preparing an offering to Merlin himself. There was a plate of toast with cream cheese and thinly sliced avocado, a bowl of berries that looked like they’d been picked by woodland elves, and a steaming cup of coffee. The smell alone was enough to make Sirius reconsider his usual disdain for mornings.

“Fancy,” Sirius said, leaning lazily against the doorframe, voice still scratchy from sleep.

James jumped slightly but recovered quickly, flashing Sirius a sheepish grin. “Morning, Pads. Coffee’s on the counter.”

Sirius eyed the tray suspiciously. “Is this for you, or is it for your favorite person in the world aka me?”

James’s ears turned pink. “It’s for her,” he admitted, almost bashfully, like he hadn’t just spent ten minutes crafting the most meticulous breakfast Sirius had ever seen.

“Of course it is,” Sirius muttered with a smirk, grabbing a mug for himself. “You realize this is bordering on embarrassing, yeah?”

James shot him a look, but before he could respond, you appeared in the doorway, still looking half-asleep. Your hair was mussed, and the oversized jumper you’d borrowed from James was slipping off one shoulder, but you somehow managed to look effortlessly radiant. Sirius rolled his eyes again.

“Morning, love,” James said, his voice soft and warm in a way Sirius had never heard before.

“Morning, Jamie,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep as you shuffled into the kitchen.

James practically tripped over himself to hand you the coffee. Sirius watched, amused, as James’s fingers brushed yours in the exchange, his entire face lighting up like someone had cast Lumos Maxima directly on it.

You took a long sip of the coffee, humming in contentment. “Perfect, as always,” you murmured, looking up at James with a sleepy smile that could have melted a Dementor.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Sirius nearly choked on his coffee. He wasn’t sure what was more painful — the nauseating sweetness of the moment or the fact that neither of you seemed to realize how completely ridiculous you were.

“Right, well, I’ll just... leave you two to it,” Sirius said, waving his mug in mock surrender as he backed out of the room. “Try not to get married while I’m gone.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” James called after him, but the way his voice wavered slightly betrayed his embarrassment.

By the time Sirius reached the living room, Euphemia and Fleamont were already seated by the fireplace, exchanging knowing glances like they’d seen this coming a mile away.

“Is he making her breakfast again?” Euphemia asked with a smile that was far too pleased for Sirius’s liking.

“Every detail,” Sirius confirmed, sinking into an armchair. “I’m starting to think he’s auditioning for Witch Weekly’s ‘Most Devoted Boyfriend’ feature.”

“Don’t tease him too much,” Euphemia said with a chuckle. “He’s just like his father was with me.”

“Merlin, it’s contagious,” Sirius groaned, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “If I start acting like that, someone put me out of my misery.”

But even as he joked, Sirius couldn’t help but smile. Because for all his teasing, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that James was hopelessly gone for you. And judging by the way you looked at him, Sirius had a feeling the feeling was mutual — even if neither of you was bright enough to figure it out.

AND THEN THERE WERE THE SMALL, INTIMATE TOUCHES SIRIUS COULDN’T IGNORE, no matter how much he wanted to. James’s hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through a doorway, like you might somehow lose your way without him. The way his fingers traced lazy patterns on your knee under the dinner table, as though the contact grounded him. Or how he’d tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just long enough to make Sirius roll his eyes and fight back a gag.

It was maddening to watch, really. Not because Sirius minded the affection — no, James deserved a bit of softness in his life, and you were undeniably good for him. It was maddening because you were both so oblivious. James was a goner, sure, but you weren’t far behind. Every time you leaned into his touch, smiled up at him like he hung the stars, or called him Jamie in that soft, teasing tone, it was like watching two wizards tiptoe around a cauldron, waiting for it to explode.

One evening, as the three of you lounged in the living room, the dynamic was on full display. The Potters had insisted on a family movie night — Euphemia’s idea, of course, because family time was important. Sirius couldn’t say no to the fire roaring in the hearth, the massive bowl of popcorn, and the ridiculous Muggle Christmas film flickering on the screen. But as the minutes passed, he started to regret not escaping upstairs.

James had situated himself squarely in the middle of the sofa, with you tucked neatly under his arm. His hand played absently with the ends of your hair, fingers twisting the strands like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. You had your legs curled beneath you, leaning into him with the kind of comfort Sirius had only ever seen in old couples who had been together for decades. James pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring something Sirius couldn’t quite catch.

It was unbearable.

“Oi, lovebirds,” Sirius interrupted, launching a piece of popcorn at James. It hit him square in the forehead, a small but satisfying victory. “Some of us are trying to watch the movie without choking on all this sap.”

You burst into laughter, sitting up just enough to toss a handful of popcorn back at him. “You’re just jealous, Black.”

“Jealous? Me?” Sirius placed a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “Of what, exactly? Watching James Potter transform into a human puddle before my very eyes? No thanks. I’ll pass.”

James didn’t even flinch. He just grinned, looking every bit the lovesick fool he was. “You’ll get it one day, Pads,” he said with infuriating calm.

Sirius snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing it into his mouth. “Right. Because what I’m really missing in my life is the chance to turn into that.” He gestured at the two of you with a dramatic wave of his hand.

But despite his teasing, Sirius couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. James, the arrogant, Quidditch-obsessed, devil-may-care prankster he’d known all his life, was utterly, completely, hopelessly in love. And the worst — or perhaps best — part? He didn’t even seem to realize it.

BY THE END OF THESE COUPLE OF DAYS VACK AT THE POTTER COTTAGE, SIRIUS KNEW. James Potter wasn’t in love with Lily Evans — not really, not anymore and maybe not ever. He was in love with you. It wasn’t in the dramatic declarations Sirius had once teased James about making to Lily. No, this was quieter, deeper. It was in the way James’s gaze softened whenever you spoke, like he couldn’t believe you were real. In the way his hand always seemed to find yours, even when there was no need for it. And in the way his entire being lit up when you smiled at him.

And you? You weren’t much better. You laughed at his terrible jokes, poked fun at him with an ease Sirius envied, and looked at James like he was the center of the universe. It was so obvious it made Sirius want to scream.

“This isn’t normal, you know,” Sirius said later that night, cornering James in the kitchen as he made tea.

“What’s not normal?” James asked, far too casually for Sirius’s liking.

“You and her. You’re not just friends. Stop pretending you are.”

James frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “We are just friends. She’s my best mate, Pads. You know that.”

Sirius laughed, loud and sharp, shaking his head. “Oh, Prongsie. You’re an idiot.”

“Am not,” James shot back, but there was a flicker of doubt in his voice.

Sirius leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “If you’re just friends, then I’m a unicorn. Face it, Potter — you’re in love.”

James opened his mouth, probably to argue, but then you walked into the room, yawning and looking for all the world like you belonged there. James’s expression softened immediately, his gaze lingering on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Sirius didn’t say another word. He didn’t need to.

Because James Potter was already lost, and for once, Sirius didn’t mind watching his best mate fall.

March 30, 1975

My Love, It’s been ages since your last letter, and I miss you like mad. Exams are coming up, and I’m hopeless at concentrating without your words to keep me sane. The Marauders are in full swing, though—our latest adventure involved sneaking a swamp into one of the corridors. Filch is still grumbling about it. I told you before how Lily has the most beautiful laugh, right? Well, I think she might finally be warming up to me. I’m playing it cool, but honestly, every time she looks at me, I feel like a kid with a new broomstick. And yet... you’re still the one I write to when I want to share everything. Funny, isn’t it? How’s the ballet going? I remember you mentioned your school recital. I wish I could see you dance. You’d be like a dream on stage, graceful and bright. Maybe one day. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK WASN’T ONE TO BELIEVE IN LOVE — not the kind spun into poetry or whispered in secret corners of libraries. Sweet words, fleeting touches, long glances… all of it sounded like an elaborate prank. A fantasy created by people who hadn’t tasted the bitterness of the world.

How could anyone believe in love when raised in a house where affection was a weapon and the family motto might as well have been stab first, smile later? The Black family had given Sirius many things: wealth, privilege, and a last name dripping in infamy. But love? That was a foreign concept, spoken in a dialect he’d never been taught.

And yet, Sirius Black — child of darkness and rebellion — had found light. That light had a name: James Potter. From the moment James had barreled into Sirius’s life, grinning like the sun itself, everything had shifted. James had yanked him out of the shadows and dragged him into a world Sirius didn’t know existed — a world filled with warmth, laughter, and actual hugs.

It wasn’t just James, though. It was the whole bloody Potter family. Euphemia and Fleamont were like characters out of a Muggle holiday film. Euphemia, with her soft, unrelenting affection, had made it her personal mission to drown Sirius in love and sweaters. Fleamont’s laughter could fill a room, a deep, belly-shaking sound that warmed Sirius from the inside out. Together, they moved through the world as though their love was an unshakable force, a steady undercurrent in every shared look and word.

“Darling,” Fleamont would call from across the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a newspaper in hand.

“Yes, Fleamont?” Euphemia would reply, her smile soft and teasing as she stirred whatever heavenly dish she was making.

Never by name. Always darling.

Still, if love like that was rare, James bloody Potter seemed hell-bent on stumbling into it without even realizing.

James and you had been dancing around each other for years, so oblivious it was borderline painful. Sirius sometimes wondered if you two were practicing for a comedy sketch, the way you acted like best mates while exuding the kind of tension that could make a Dementor blush. If Sirius had a Galleon for every time James looked at you like you were the only person in the room, he could have bought his own Quidditch team by now. And he's only been watching you for a couple of days.

IT WAS THE FOURT DAY OF HIS CHRISTMAS STAY AT THE POTTER HOME, and the dynamic was impossible to ignore. You and James were practically inseparable, moving through the house like two planets caught in the same orbit. You helped Euphemia with the decorations while James carried boxes of ornaments up from the cellar, always hovering nearby like he was afraid you might vanish if he looked away.

“You know,” Sirius said, leaning casually against the doorway, “most people don’t need to supervise someone hanging tinsel.”

James didn’t even glance back. “She’s not most people, Pads.”

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “For Merlin’s sake, just marry her already.”

James froze, an ornament dangling from his hand. “What are you on about? We’re just friends.”

“Sure, and I’m a Muggle,” Sirius shot back, rolling his eyes.

You, blissfully unaware of the conversation, turned from where you were perched on a stepstool. “What are you two arguing about now?”

“Nothing,” James said quickly, his cheeks tinged pink. “Sirius is just being Sirius.”

“That’s never good,” you teased, smirking at Sirius.

“Oi! I’ll have you know I’m delightful company.” Sirius crossed his arms, feigning offense. “But if you’re not careful, pretty, you’ll end up trapped in Potter’s web of undying devotion.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping down from the stool. “Potter’s web of what now?”

James shot Sirius a warning glare, but Sirius just grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just that James here is—”

“Hungry!” James interrupted, loudly and awkwardly. “Right, Pads? Didn’t you say you were starving?”

Sirius barked a laugh, shaking his head as James practically shoved him out of the room. “Subtle as ever, Prongs.”

From Sirius’s vantage point, it was painfully obvious. James was hopelessly, stupidly in love with you. And you? You weren’t much better. The way you smiled at him, teased him, trusted him without question — it was all the evidence Sirius needed. And yet, you were both blissfully, idiotically unaware.

One evening, as Sirius sprawled on the sofa in the Potters’ living room, he couldn’t help but notice the way you and James interacted. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, rifling through a box of Christmas decorations Euphemia had set out.

“Jamie, hand me the gold bauble,” you said, tossing him a quick glance over your shoulder.

James, who had been half-heartedly untangling a string of lights, immediately perked up. “Which one?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “The one in your hand, genius.”

James laughed, tossing it gently toward you. It missed entirely, landing with a soft thud on the carpet.

“Good aim, Prongs,” Sirius drawled from his spot on the couch. “Truly inspiring.”

“Shut it, Padfoot,” James shot back, but his grin never faltered. He turned to you, sheepish. “Sorry, love.”

Love. Sirius didn’t miss the way the word slipped out so naturally, like James had been saying it his whole life. And he definitely didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed as you ducked your head, pretending to focus on the decorations.

LATER THAT EVENING, SIRIUS FOUND HIMSELF LAYING ON THE SOFA IN THE LIVING ROOM AGAIN (it probably was his favorite place in the house by now), a book abandoned on his chest as he watched Euphemia and Fleamont dancing in the kitchen once, a slow, swaying movement that didn’t match the upbeat Muggle music crackling from the wireless. Euphemia had rested her head on Fleamont’s chest, his arms wrapped around her like it was the only place in the world she belonged. It wasn’t dramatic or flashy — just simple and unshakable. And it made Sirius ache in ways he didn’t understand.

And a moment later they were in the same kitchen, preparing tea and laughing softly as they worked.

“Darling, pass me the sugar, would you?” Fleamont said, his voice warm and affectionate.

Euphemia handed him the sugar bowl without looking up, her smile soft. “Here you go, darlin'.”

It was the kind of exchange that Sirius might have mocked once. But now, as he watched the way Fleamont leaned in to kiss Euphemia’s cheek, or how she swatted him away with a laugh when he tried to sneak a biscuit, he felt something unfamiliar tugging at his chest.

“They’re sickeningly sweet, aren’t they?”

Sirius turned to see you standing in the doorway, a mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

“They are,” he admitted, sitting up and motioning for you to join him. “But it’s sort of... nice. In a vomit-inducing way.”

You laughed, settling beside him. “I think it’s lovely. They’re so in tune with each other, you know? Like they’ve been dancing to the same song for decades.”

Sirius tilted his head, watching you as you spoke. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want that? The whole ‘dancing to the same song’ thing?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your mug. “I don’t know. I suppose it would be nice, but... I’m not sure it’s in the cards for me.”

Sirius frowned. “Why not?”

You shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “Because my dance partner’s too busy tripping over his own feet to notice I’m right here.”

Sirius stared at you, his mind racing. Did you mean James? Surely you meant James. But before he could say anything, James walked in, ruffling his hair like he always did.

“Alright, what are you two plotting?”

“World domination,” Sirius replied without missing a beat. “Want in?”

James grinned, flopping onto the sofa and immediately throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Always.”

Sirius watched as you leaned into James, your head resting against his shoulder. James turned to look at you, his expression soft and unguarded.

And that’s when Sirius knew — again, because he seemed to be realizing this every ten minutes — just how much trouble you two were in.

DAYS LATER, SIRIUS WAS STANDING BY THE WINDOW OF THE POTTER COTTAGE, a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming his hands. The world outside was a vision of winter — snow blanketed the ground in pristine white, the trees bowed under its weight, and the air held a sharp, crystalline stillness. Inside, the house was alive with warmth: the crackle of the fire, the gentle hum of Euphemia’s humming, and Fleamont’s cheerful banter as he set up a chessboard by the hearth.

But Sirius wasn’t watching any of that. His attention was fixed on the two figures trudging down the snow-covered path just beyond the window.

You and James walked side by side, your mittened hands brushing against each other with the kind of unconscious familiarity that spoke volumes. The path ahead glittered in the weak afternoon sun, the frost catching the light like scattered diamonds. Clouds of breath curled into the frosty air as you laughed at something James said, the sound clear and bright, even from a distance.

Sirius couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. He saw everything in the way James turned his head toward you, his face lit with the sort of joy that was impossible to fake.

Then it happened — your foot slipped on a patch of hidden ice. Sirius’s grip on his mug tightened for half a heartbeat, but James was already there. His hand shot out, steadying you before you could fall, as if the world might crumble if he didn’t catch you in time.

“Careful there, love,” James said, his voice carrying easily through the crisp winter air.

You laughed, brushing snow from your coat as your cheeks turned pink — not just from the cold, Sirius was sure. “You’d think I’d have learned how to walk by now.”

James grinned, tugging you a little closer to his side. “Good thing you’ve got me.”

“Good thing indeed,” you replied, your eyes crinkling at the corners, your voice soft and full of affection.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, James reached out to brush a stray snowflake from your hair. His fingers lingered for just a moment, his expression open and unguarded, filled with something so pure that Sirius had to look away for a second.

It wasn’t the first time Sirius had seen that look on James’s face. It was the same quiet, awestruck gaze he’d noticed a thousand times when James thought no one was watching. But seeing it now, against the backdrop of snow and laughter, it struck Sirius like a Bludger to the chest.

That’s how Fleamont looked at Euphemia, Sirius realized. He’d seen it that very morning, when Euphemia had walked into the kitchen with a sleepy smile and Fleamont had paused mid-sentence, his face lighting up as if she were the sunrise itself.

Sirius took a long sip of his hot chocolate, the sweetness of it sharp against the lump forming in his throat. He muttered to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Never by name. Always love.”

“What are you smiling about, Sirius?” Euphemia’s voice broke the quiet, warm and curious. She stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

He turned, raising his mug in a mock toast. “Oh, nothing, Mrs. P. Just watching James make a right fool of himself in the snow. Again.”

Euphemia chuckled, stepping closer to peer out the window. Her gaze softened as she spotted you and James, now engaged in some sort of playful shoving match, James clearly letting you win.

“Hopeless,” Sirius added, shaking his head.

“Like father, like son,” Euphemia said with a knowing smile.

Sirius huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the scene outside. Sirius’s gaze lingered on James’s hand as it rested on your shoulder, the ease of the gesture speaking louder than words.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sirius allowed himself to believe. Not just in the love he saw in James’s face or the easy affection between Fleamont and Euphemia. But in the idea that maybe—just maybe—love wasn’t the cruel, twisted thing his family had tried to make him believe.

Maybe love, real love, was something entirely different.

November 27, 1976

My Jamie, Winter has settled over Beauxbatons, and the mountains are kissed with snow. I wish you could see how the frost sparkles on the trees. I think of you often, imagining the mischief you’re up to at Hogwarts. I heard you’re Quidditch Captain now — congratulations! I can already picture you soaring through the air, the wind in your hair and that unstoppable grin. You were born to lead, Jamie, and I’m so proud of you. Your mum wrote me again last week. She’s sent another scarf, this one in Gryffindor colors. She says it’ll keep me close to you. It does, in a way — I wrap it around myself when I miss you most. Do you think of me as much as I think of you? You’re my constant, my warmth on the coldest days. Soon it’ll be Christmas, and we’ll have the stars and endless nights to talk about everything. Until then, stay safe, my Jamie. Forever yours, Love

THE CHRISTMAS CHAOS AT THE POTTER HOUSE STARTED BEFORE SIRIUS EVEN HAD A CHANCE TO GRUMBLE ABOUT THE HOUR. The sun wasn’t up yet, but Fleamont Potter most certainly was, barreling into James’s room with the energy of a man half his age. Before Sirius could properly complain — or hide under the covers — he and James were unceremoniously hauled to the garage. Their mission? Assembling the absurdly large Christmas table that Euphemia insisted on every year.

Sirius swore under his breath, wrestling with the oversized wooden monstrosity. “You know,” he grumbled, glaring at James, “if your parents had just gone for a nice, normal-sized table, we wouldn’t be out here freezing our—”

“Language, Sirius!” Fleamont interrupted cheerfully, though there was a definite glint of amusement in his eyes.

Sirius rolled his eyes but complied, though only because Euphemia’s kitchen smelled like heaven, and he was determined to earn his way to a plate of whatever was roasting in the oven.

Inside, the house was a picture of festive perfection: holly strung along the bannisters, twinkling fairy lights glowing softly in the corners, and a wireless by the fireplace playing carols just loud enough to make Sirius hum along when no one was listening. Euphemia’s soft laughter echoed from the kitchen, mingling with yours as the two of you prepared a feast fit for kings — or in this case, a house full of Marauders.

And James? Well, James wasn’t himself.

Sirius noticed it almost immediately. His best mate was usually a hurricane of enthusiasm during the holidays, cracking jokes, sneaking sweets from the kitchen, and generally making a nuisance of himself. But today, James kept glancing toward the kitchen like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home.

The idiot was besotted.

Every time your laughter drifted into the room, James’s head whipped around like he was under some sort of spell. If you so much as said his name, he’d stop mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up like the Christmas tree in the corner. Sirius would’ve teased him mercilessly if it weren’t so... obvious. Painfully, ridiculously obvious.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, WHEN JAMES AND FLEAMONT HAD VANISHED TO THE GARAGE — probably to charm something they had no business charming — Sirius found himself tasked with tidying up James’s room. He grumbled the whole time, of course. Cleaning wasn’t his style, and James’s room was a disaster zone: Quidditch magazines spilling off the desk, parchment crumpled in corners, and socks scattered in ways that defied the laws of physics.

“Honestly, Prongs,” Sirius muttered, holding up a suspiciously stiff sock with the tips of his fingers. “How are you supposed to woo Evans — or anyone, for that matter — when your room smells like the wrong end of a hippogriff?”

As he moved to clear a particularly cluttered shelf, a box caught his eye. It was tucked in the far corner, partially hidden behind an old textbook. Sirius raised an eyebrow. Anything stashed away like that was bound to be interesting. With a mischievous grin, he reached for it, only for the entire thing to tumble off the shelf, spilling its contents across the floor.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, crouching to pick up the mess. His hand froze mid-reach when he realized what had fallen out: letters. Dozens of them, bundled in ribbons of various colors.

Sirius sat back on his heels, eyeing the pile. His curiosity, as always, got the better of him. With a glance at the door to ensure James wasn’t about to barge in, he grabbed the nearest stack and plopped himself onto the bed, cross-legged and grinning like a kid about to open a box of Zonko’s best tricks.

The first letter he unfolded smelled faintly of vanilla. Your scent, Sirius realized, and his grin faltered for just a moment.

October 7, 1971 Beauxbatons is so different from Hogwarts. The professors here are so strict, James, sometimes it feels like I’m being watched all the time! I miss the feeling of freedom you must have at Hogwarts, even if you’re always getting into trouble with Sirius. Do you ever just wish you could escape the rules and run wild?

Sirius chuckled softly, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting. “Trouble? Me? Never,” he muttered, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

But as he reread the letter, a strange tightness settled in his chest. The way you wrote about Hogwarts — it wasn’t just about the school. It was about James. Even miles away, you saw him as something larger than life, as the embodiment of freedom and adventure.

And James? The idiot probably thought you were just being polite.

February 21, 1971 Sirius sounds like a bit of a handful, but I bet he’s hilarious. I think I’d like him, even if he does cause chaos. You all sound like you’re constantly up to something, but I imagine you get into trouble a lot, don’t you? Anyway, I’d love to hear more about his pranks— I’m sure you and him must make a great team!

Sirius barked a laugh. “A handful? Pretty, you have no idea.”

Still, the words struck a chord. He could see it so clearly now: the way you’d woven yourself into James’s world with every playful question and teasing remark. You weren’t just curious about his adventures; you wanted to be a part of them, to understand the boy behind the Quidditch bravado and the wild schemes.

Then came the letters about Lily.

March 25, 1973 James, you always talk about Lily, and I think it’s sweet that you have such admiration for her. I bet she doesn’t even know how much you like her. She sounds like she’d be really hard to win over, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Just don’t forget to have fun along the way, yeah?

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin’s saggy pants, Prongs, how thick can you be?”

He could almost picture you writing those words, the careful balance between encouragement and self-sacrifice. Even as you pushed James toward Lily, your letters were saturated with love — pure, unguarded, and heartbreakingly unspoken.

It was infuriating. How could two people so obviously meant for each other be so oblivious?

By the time Sirius reached the later letters, the humor had drained from his face.

December 5, 1974 Your mum sent me another gift! She’s so sweet, and I can’t believe how kind she is to me. It always makes me feel so loved. You know, when I’m away from you, it’s like I’m missing something... like the best part of my day. I never want to take our friendship for granted.

The parchment crinkled slightly as Sirius’s grip tightened. That wasn’t just gratitude — it was devotion, raw and aching. The kind of love that didn’t need fireworks or grand declarations because it was already woven into every moment, every memory.

And James? Sirius shook his head, a pang of frustration mixing with pity. James had spent years chasing the idea of love, blind to the fact that he already had it.

The final letter undid him.

December 12, 1975 I was thinking about you today, and how you’ve always been there for me — whether it was listening to me complain about the Beauxbatons professors or laughing with me when I’m in a bad mood. You’re always there, and I think that’s why I trust you more than anyone else. You’ll never know how much that means to me, Jamie.

Sirius closed his eyes, letting the words sink in. You didn’t just see James; you knew him. The real James — the boy who laughed too loudly, who lived for Quidditch, who couldn’t resist a good prank. You loved James, not the idealized version he tried to be for Lily or anyone else.

Sirius exhaled sharply, folding the letter with a reverence he didn’t usually bother with. His heart ached — not for himself, but for you, for James, for the years you’d both spent dancing around the truth.

“Merlin, you’re both idiots,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now.

Sirius ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it further into disarray, his mind replaying what he’d just uncovered. The letters — those bloody letters — had been the key. Now everything fell into place: James’s barely-there smiles over the past few days, the way his gaze lingered when you entered the room, the softness in his laugh when you said something clever. James Potter, his brash, unrelenting, wildfire of a best friend, was utterly transformed around you.

Balanced. Grounded. Sincere.

It was unbearably obvious now, as if someone had pulled back the curtain.

And yet, the idiot still had Lily Evans’s picture on his bedside table in his dorm.

Sirius’s gaze fell on the stack of letters once more, neatly tied with a ribbons that seemed far too delicate for James’s usual chaos. He could have left it alone, let James figure things out in his own thick-headed way — but that wasn’t Sirius Black’s style. If there was one thing he’d learned from years of pranks, broken curfews, and bending the rules until they snapped, it was this: sometimes people needed a push, even if it stung a little.

Sirius exhaled and leaned back against the headboard, the letters still in hand. "You're a fucking idiot," he muttered under his breath.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. Oh, the look on James’s face when he confronted him — it would be priceless. Sirius wasn’t one for sentiment, but for you? For James? Maybe, just maybe, he’d make an exception.

The door creaked open, and James stumbled into the room, his steps heavy with exhaustion. Sirius watched as his best friend all but collapsed into the armchair by the bookcase, running a hand through his already-messy hair. He looked like he’d been wrestling dragons all day — or, more likely, his dad’s endless list of chores.

But there was something else, too. A tension in his jaw, a restless energy that practically vibrated off him. Sirius could see it plain as day: James hadn’t seen her all day, and it was driving him mad. She was so close — just a staircase or two away — and yet untouchable.

Sirius cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, Prongs, is this why you’ve been obsessing over the owl schedule for years? Didn’t peg you as the secret pen-pal type.”

James’s head snapped up, his hazel eyes narrowing in confusion. They darted to the bed, where the stack of letters lay exposed, and then to the shelf where the box had clearly been moved. He froze for a second before letting out a long, resigned sigh.

“Pads,” James said, his voice low and uneven, heavy with an edge Sirius rarely heard. “It’s not cool to read someone else’s letters.”

The room seemed to still, the words settling into the air like dust, soft but laden with weight. James’s eyes — those unmistakable hazel orbs that always held a spark of mischief — were guarded now, a flicker of something raw and unspoken behind them.

Sirius leaned forward, a grin stretching across his face like the blade of a knife, sharp and unapologetic. “Not cool,” he echoed, his voice laced with mockery, “is keeping this from me for six bloody years. Care to explain, or should I guess?”

James flinched, the tension in his shoulders visible even through the soft knit of his jumper. He moved toward the bed with the slow, deliberate steps of someone walking a tightrope, balancing the fragile threads of anger and restraint. The dim light of the room cast long shadows over his frame, making him seem taller, older — more vulnerable.

He reached for one of the letters, his hand hesitating for the briefest moment before his fingers curled around the parchment. His thumb brushed over the faded ink, tracing the loops of her handwriting like a blind man reading Braille. The edges of the letter were frayed, softened by years of touch, and as he lifted it to his face, Sirius caught the faintest smile tugging at James’s lips.

It was a small, private thing, that smile. Reverent. It wasn’t the boyish grin Sirius knew so well, the one James wielded like a weapon to charm or disarm. No, this was different — softer, as though the mere act of holding the letter in his hand brought James closer to something sacred.

Sirius felt his chest tighten. He’d seen James in every possible state — triumphant on the Quidditch pitch, livid after a prank gone wrong, devastated when the world seemed too heavy — but this? This was new. This was James Potter unguarded.

“She’s different, isn’t she?” Sirius said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.

James didn’t look up. He sat on the edge of the bed, sorting the letters with a precision that bordered on ritual. Each movement was deliberate, his fingers careful not to smudge the ink or crease the paper. Sirius had never seen him handle anything with such care — not his broomstick, not his glasses, not even the Marauder’s Map.

“It’s not what you think,” James murmured, but the words lacked conviction, as though he knew they’d crumble under scrutiny.

Sirius scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated snort. “Not what I think? Mate, I think you’re in love with her and too much of an idiot to admit it. Am I wrong?”

James froze mid-motion, the ribbon he was tying slipping from his fingers. For a moment, he didn’t speak, didn’t move — just stared at the letters as if they might answer for him.

“She’s…” He trailed off, his voice barely audible. “She’s different, Pads. She’s… everything.”

There it was. The confession, raw and trembling in the space between them. Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his expression unusually serious.

“Yeah,” Sirius said softly. “She is. And that’s exactly why you’re a bloody idiot for pretending she’s not.”

James let out a bitter laugh, the sound low and fractured. He raked a hand through his already-messy hair, his movements frenetic, as though he were trying to shake off the weight of the moment.

“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice cracking under the strain. “It’s not that simple.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Sirius shot back, his tone sharp but not cruel. “I’ve watched you for years, Prongs. You talk about Evans like she’s some kind of bloody trophy, but her? You look at her like she’s the air you breathe. Like without her, you’d suffocate. And you’re sitting here telling me it’s complicated?”

James’s laugh turned hollow, empty. “Lily’s… safe. She’s who I’m supposed to want. She’s not my bloody childhood best friend.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Sirius said nothing. Then, he barked out a laugh, loud and biting.

“Safe?” he repeated, incredulous. “Since when have you ever played it safe, James Potter? Love’s not supposed to be safe. It’s messy, terrifying, and completely bloody worth it. Or are you seriously telling me you’d rather be ‘safe’ than happy?”

James looked up at him then, and Sirius’s breath caught. His best friend’s hazel eyes, usually so full of fire and mischief, were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you think…” James’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “Do you think she feels the same?”

Sirius’s grin returned, slow and wolfish. “Mate, judging by these letters? She’s just as much of an idiot in love as you are.”

For a moment, James didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. And then, like a dam breaking, he laughed — a shaky, unsteady sound that grew louder, freer, until it filled the room.

“What do I do?” James asked, his voice raw and trembling with vulnerability.

Sirius stood, crossing the room to clap a hand on James’s shoulder. “You start by telling her everything. No more hiding. No more pretending. You owe her — and yourself — more than that.”

James nodded slowly, the faintest glimmer of determination flickering in his eyes. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Sirius said, smirking. “I’m always right.”

As James reached for the letters, carefully tucking them back into their box, Sirius watched him with a rare sense of pride. This wasn’t just James Potter, the fearless Quidditch captain, the prankster extraordinaire. This was James Potter, a boy on the cusp of something extraordinary.

And for once, Sirius Black wasn’t just causing chaos — he was helping someone find their way through it.

THE SNOW OUTSIDE FELL IN HEAVY, DELIBERATE FLAKES, BLANKETING THE WORLD IN A SOFT, UNBROKEN QUIET. Sirius stood on the second-floor landing of the Potter home, a mug of hot coffee cradled in his hands. The rich aroma mingled with the faint scent of pine and cinnamon wafting from the decorated tree below. The whole house seemed to hum with a kind of warmth that Sirius rarely allowed himself to imagine, let alone experience.

From his vantage point, he had a perfect view of the living room below. The fire in the hearth crackled gently, casting golden shadows across the walls. Mr. Potter sat on the sofa with an arm draped around Mrs. Potter, the two of them cocooned under a soft plaid blanket. A book rested on Fleamont’s lap as he read aloud, his voice low and steady. Euphemia’s head rested against his shoulder, her eyes half-closed in serene contentment. Every so often, she’d smile at something he read or reach up to adjust her husband’s glasses, her touch so light and familiar it made Sirius’s chest ache with longing — not jealousy, but something softer. A wistfulness for this kind of unshakable bond.

But his gaze didn’t linger on the Potters for long. It drifted to the corner of the room, where the Christmas tree’s twinkling lights bathed two figures in a kaleidoscope of warm colors. You and James sat on the floor amidst the chaos of torn wrapping paper and open boxes. The morning’s gifts had already been exchanged, but it seemed James had saved something special for last.

Even from here, Sirius could see the faint nervousness in his best friend’s posture. James wasn’t one to fidget, yet his hands moved restlessly, smoothing invisible creases on his trousers, brushing imaginary dust from the tree skirt. His eyes, though, were unwavering as they watched you. You were cross-legged on the fluffy white rug, your hair falling in soft waves over your shoulder as you picked idly at a ribbon. Sirius noticed how your gaze lingered on James, curious and full of quiet affection.

James leaned closer, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable lilt of mischief. “One of the owls was late,” he said, holding up a slightly weathered envelope. The parchment looked a little worse for wear, its edges crumpled as if it had been handled too often. “It dropped this off this morning… asked me to give it to the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you reached for the envelope. “Still using that line, are you, Potter?”

“Can you blame me? It’s worked wonders so far.” His grin was cocky, but Sirius saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he handed it over.

You rolled your eyes, but the way you bit your lip betrayed your own anticipation. Turning the envelope over in your hands, you ran your fingers along the black-inked scrawl of your name before carefully breaking the seal. Sirius leaned forward slightly, his coffee forgotten as he watched the scene unfold.

The moment the letter emerged, the air seemed to shift. Your eyes darted across the page, your expression softening with each word. Sirius could see the precise moment the meaning settled in — the way your lips parted in surprise, the way your shoulders tensed, then relaxed, as if letting the weight of something long unspoken sink in. James’s hand rested on your knee, his thumb moving in small, nervous circles.

“Love?” James’s voice was barely above a whisper, his usual bravado stripped away. He was watching you as though the world rested on your reaction, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around yours. “You’re awfully quiet. Should I be worried? Say something. Anything.”

You didn’t answer immediately. Your eyes stayed fixed on the page, even as a tear slipped down your cheek, catching the light like a tiny diamond. James froze, his face paling slightly.

“Hey, hey, no…” His voice cracked. “Don’t cry. If it’s rubbish, just say so and we can forget it. Burn it, even.” He laughed nervously, though it sounded forced. “I’ll… I’ll pretend it never happened.”

That’s when you looked up, meeting his gaze with eyes so full of emotion it made Sirius’s breath hitch even from across the room. You didn’t say anything. Instead, you reached out, cupping James’s face in your hands. He stilled under your touch, his wide-eyed surprise melting into something softer as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss Sirius might have teased him about — not fiery or impulsive. It was quiet, deliberate, and full of a tenderness that made Sirius feel like an intruder, even though he couldn’t look away. James’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as though you might slip away if he let go.

Sirius smiled to himself, feeling a rare swell of pride. James had always been the heart of their little group, the one who wore his feelings openly. And now, here he was, finding a kind of love that Sirius knew would anchor him forever.

A sharp click shattered the moment, and both of you turned your heads to find Sirius standing at the bottom of the stairs, a wide grin plastered across his face as he waved a freshly developed photo in the air.

“Perfect!” he announced, shaking the picture. “This one’s going in the family album. And when my godchildren ask how their parents got together, I’ll tell them Uncle Sirius orchestrated the whole thing.”

You laughed, leaning your forehead against James’s shoulder, while James groaned, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “You’re a menace, Pads,” he said, though his voice held no bite.

“A charming menace,” Sirius replied, retreating toward the couch where the elder Potters were watching the scene unfold with amused smiles.

“Everything alright, dear?” Euphemia asked, her eyes twinkling with affection as she glanced between you and James.

James nodded, his hand still firmly clasping yours. “Yeah, Mum. Everything’s perfect.”

Mrs. Potter’s smile widened, and she reached over to pat your hand. “Welcome to the family, my dear. Though, truth be told, you’ve always been part of it.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

THE REST OF THE DAY PASSED IN A GOLDEN HAZE OF LAUGHTER AND WARMTH. Euphemia roped you into helping her in the kitchen, insisting you learn the secret to her mulled wine. Sirius watched from the doorway, sipping his coffee and grinning as you tried to follow her directions, only for James to sneak in and steal a taste from the pot, earning himself a playful swat on the arm.

By evening, the fire burned low, and the snow outside had blanketed the world in an even deeper hush. Sirius sat in his favorite armchair, a blanket draped over his legs as he watched the scene before him. You and James were curled up together on the rug, a cozy tangle of limbs as you whispered to each other, your laughter soft and unguarded. The Potters sat nearby, sharing quiet conversation, their hands intertwined.

For a moment, Sirius closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the room and the sounds of contentment wash over him. He thought of his own childhood Christmases — cold, sterile affairs devoid of joy. And then he thought of this… the home James had built, not just for himself but for everyone he cared about. It was the kind of love Sirius had always believed was out of reach. Until now.

“Merry Christmas, Prongs,” he murmured, raising his empty mug in a toast to his best friend.

James glanced up, catching his eye. “Merry Christmas, Pads,” he replied, his grin soft but unmistakably James.

James had turned to you, his hand cradling your cheek as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. You smiled up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his arm.

"Merry Christmas, love," James murmured, his voice low and filled with a tenderness that made Sirius’s chest tighten.

"Merry Christmas, Jamie," you replied, resting your forehead against his.

Sirius chuckled, settling back into his chair, the warmth of the moment settling deep in his bones. The world outside might be cold and uncertain, but here, in this house, surrounded by love and laughter, everything felt exactly as it should be.

He thought about how James Potter had once given him the home and warmth he never had. And now, it seemed, Sirius Black had helped his best friend find his way home, too.

FROM THE ARCHIVE OF SIRIUS BLACK:

To my future, undoubtedly brilliant, devilishly handsome, and wildly talented nephews,

Listen up, you little rascals. You don’t know me yet, but let me make one thing very clear: I’m the reason you even exist. That’s right, your ridiculously perfect Uncle Sirius is the mastermind behind it all. Without my charm, wit, and expert meddling, your parents might still be doing the whole "will-they-won't-they" nonsense.

So, when you’re out there ruling the world, remember to thank yours truly. The coolest, suavest, and most humble uncle you'll ever have — Sirius Black. You're welcome.

December 25, 1976 My Love, It’s Christmas, and the house is quiet now, the soft hum of the tree lights the only sound. I’ve been sitting here for hours, staring at this parchment, trying to find words big enough for what I feel, but they don’t exist. Still, I need to try. Love, I see it now—what I’ve been too blind to see all along. I’ve always thought of myself as brave, fearless even. But when it came to you, I was a coward. I didn’t want to risk losing you. You, who have been the brightest part of my life since the moment we met. You, who’ve filled every corner of my world with warmth and light, even when we were miles apart. Every summer, when you stepped into my life again, it was like the sun breaking through a storm. You’d sit by the lake with that book you never quite finished because I was always distracting you. You’d laugh at my terrible jokes, your nose crinkling just so. And you’d hum when you thought no one was listening, always off-key but somehow more perfect than any melody I’ve ever heard. I thought I was looking for the kind of love my parents have — their unshakable bond, the way they look at each other like the world begins and ends with them. And all this time, it was right here, under my nose. You were under my nose. I think I was afraid, love. Afraid that if I let myself feel what’s always been there, I’d ruin us. That I’d lose the only person who’s ever truly known me, the only one who can look past the pranks, the bravado, and see me—the real me. But Sirius, being Sirius, knocked some sense into me. He said I’ve been acting like a fool, and for once, he’s right. Rereading our letters with him was like seeing my life laid out before me, and every line, every word pointed to you. Even when you were far away, you were my everything. The letters you sent were more than ink on parchment; they were lifelines. When Hogwarts felt too big, too chaotic, you were the quiet in the storm. When I felt lost, you reminded me who I am. Do you know how many times I reread your words, just to feel close to you? I kept your letters in my trunk, hidden from the others like a secret treasure. Because that’s what you’ve always been — my treasure. How could I have been so blind? How could I have wasted so much time thinking it was Lily I wanted when it’s always been you? I’ve spent so long chasing a dream when the real thing was right in front of me. I see it now, clearer than I’ve ever seen anything. You are my stars, my moon, my sun. You’re the laugh that makes everything brighter, the voice that feels like home.

I love you. I love the way your handwriting gets messier when you’re excited. I love the way you argue with me over the silliest things just to see me smile. I love the way you hum when you’re nervous and how you always know exactly what to say to pull me out of my worst days. I love you. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I hope with everything in me that you do. And if you don’t, I’ll understand. Because having you in my life, even just as my friend, has been the greatest gift I could ever ask for. But if there’s even the smallest chance you might love me too, then I promise to spend the rest of my life proving I deserve you. Merry Christmas, my love. You’ve been my greatest gift every day since I met you. Forever yours, Jamie

thankx for reading <3

god, this is my biggest work and I was so afraid to publish it, cause it seems to me that no one reads such long fics (I myself adore long fics).

and if you've finished reading this, thank u and I love you so much! I hope you enjoyed every part of it and I will be very glad if you leave a comment, because it seems to me that I have left all of myself in this work!

you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox. btw my requests are open so… make a wish :3

– your santi 🪐

masterlist

#– santi 🪐#james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfiction #bsf!james potter #james potter x fem!reader

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planetaryupscaled · 7 months ago

Text

Newfound Wonder

Male OC x Newjeans Hanni

Tags: 9k, first time, creampie, dub con, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Come on, hurry up already!” Under the watchful eyes of her friends, Hanni stumbled out of her parents’ house while dragging along a suitcase nearly twice as heavy as her petite body.

“Ye-yeah, I know, I know!” The stuffed container dragged across the asphalt while she put all remaining energy into pulling it towards the parked camper van just a few feet. After which she uttered a sigh of defeat upon realizing that she would still have to lift the suitcase at least a foot off the ground in order to haul it into the back of the rusty old van.

It sucked. It hadn’t even been her idea to go on this spontaneous camping trip, it had been her friend’s, Danielle. A childhood friend, she was pretty and clever, even if she had a tendency to always see the best in people.

Difficult to decline such an offer to be away from home for a day. At least sometimes, Hanni had to pretend that she enjoyed going out instead of sitting at home all day. Her parents were happy to remind her that doing new things, helps to turn you into a responsible adult. It’s not like her genes were making it easy to spend time outside even if she wanted to.

The sun is Hanni’s worst enemy. She’s like a vampire, just without any valuable superpowers other than the ability to get a sunburn twice as easily as her friend.

“Need a hand with that? I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of the day.” The third and final victim to join the small adventure was Danielle’s boyfriend. A tall handsome guy — Minsoo. Pretty athletic and in very good shape, he enjoyed working out and has more flavors of protein powder at home than any sane person should possess. As to why he decided to start dating Danielle, it’s a mystery. He’s a few years older and already done with college. “Here, there you go.” Minsoo easily lifted the suitcase up and into the back of the van before returning to the passenger seat.

Hanni climbed in as well and took a seat herself, brushed some dust off her jeans and shot her friend a quick glare. Danielle’s family was seriously well off, it must’ve been an itch for nostalgia that urged her to rent a cheap old vehicle like this.

“There you are Han! You got all your stuff, then? I swear you’re gonna love this!” Danielle was grinning from ear to ear, giddy as a kid for this opportunity to go camping. Another advantage of having plenty of spare money — if she really wanted something, she simply went ahead and did it. It’s a surprise she managed to remain a grounded, decent person.

“I guess.” The engine gave a loud groan, but started dutifully and the trio’s journey began. Through the city and plenty of farmland, over a mountain and past large patches of empty land before eventually arriving in a dense forest, hours away from where they had left. It was a decently idyllic place, untouched by civilization. Bumpy hills and vegetation as far as the eye could see.

“You doing all right?” Danielle kept one hand on the steering wheel while handing her girlfriend a bottle of water, something to get by for another hour.

Hanni happily accepted the treat. “Are we there yet?”

“Add another ten minutes for each time you ask that question,” came the witty response. The road was getting rockier, harder to traverse without slowing down significantly. At least the atmosphere changed dramatically, lush colors were surrounding the area. Trees large enough to pierce the sky. If you pay enough attention, you could even spot a natural lake here and there.

Not like Hanni was paying any attention, she held her smartphone tightly and stared at the bright screen while playing games. Old habits die hard.

The car eventually came to a stop, and Danielle basked in relief at the sight in front of them. The road ended right into a large open space in the midst of towering trees in all directions. “That’s what I’m talking about!” she announced gleefully. “Told ya we’d find a nice spo-” she turned her head, glancing at her distracted companion. “...spot. Han! Are you even looking? Come on!” she insisted. “Look!”

Finally the distracted teenager lowered her phone and gazed out the window. “I guess, it doesn’t look half-bad. Good graphics, ten outta ten. Just be careful not to get eaten by a tiger. “

A sigh of frustration followed. “Tigers live in India and Russia. And apparently in your fantasy.”

Minsoo opened the door to exit the vehicle and a fresh breeze of nature greeted the trio. It was a damp, wild forest smell. It’s something you just don’t have in the city — no impurities, no weird unidentifiable stench around every corner. Just nature. He took a pleased deep breath. “Worth it.”

“Oh shoot!” Danielle reached into her pocket and rushed out of the car. “I almost forgot!” She began to frantically toy with her phone only to utter an annoyed groan. “I can’t get a signal! Crap. My parents wanted me to leave them a message before we go! Aw...” she whined. “It uh... it should be fine, I guess. I already sorted the important stuff before we left.”

In the meantime, Minsoo already opened the backside of the van to retrieve the tent and various supplies. “It would be even finer if you’d lend me a hand over here.”

Hanni used the opportunity to retort. “Ah-huh. The dude who is into weightlifting is asking girls for help? You can lift things ten times heavier than what I can carry!” she scoffed.

“Perfect, then you can grab the tent while I carry the heavy anchors and the hammer. See it as opportunity to show some...female empowerment or something.”

Hanni rolled her eyes at that and reluctantly climbed out of the car to follow his instructions. After the tent was set up and ready to go, Hanni waited to continue helping but was left dumbfounded. “Uhh- where’s the second and third one? Where are you guys going to sleep then?”

Minsoo gave her a quizzical look. “We...share one tent? Obviously? If you don’t spread your arms and legs in all directions we’re going to fit in just fine. Just please, try not to eat any beans before we go to sleep.”

Hanni face flushed a bright red, eyes wide open. She quietly turned and walked off, using the lack of knowledge of the area as excuse to go for a walk. Maybe she would find something of interest. Or perhaps...maybe not. It was an uneventful walk and she found little besides more trees and insects everywhere. Seriously a lot of bugs. It would’ve been nice to find a secret cave, or waterfall. Like in the movies. Alas reality was harsh and dull.

She returned an hour later to see that Danielle and her boyfriend had set up a proper campsite. A big log had been cut in half across the center, to create two comfortable makeshift benches. They were strategically placed around the campfire for maximum comfort. The large flame already helped to illuminate the nearby area, and the soft crackling of burning twigs and branches was a soothing sound to behold.

Both lovers were already seated by the fire and cuddling closely, Danielle clung tightly to her boyfriend’s arm and affectionately rubbed her cheek against him. “Dan! Did I miss anything?” Hanni approached and reluctantly sat down on the second, unused bench. The wood was hard, nothing like her computer chair.

“Not really. I think.” Danielle reached to the side and slid her hand into a bag of chips, retrieving a handful and leaning back to enjoy the view. “Oh! But! We did think about playing a round of truth or dare, if you’re up for it. Could be fun. Also a chance for you to get to know Minsoo a little better! It would be amazing for the two people I care the most about to become close friends too!”

He agreed as well and conjured a bottle of bourbon from behind the log. “Every time you get picked, you take a shot. To up the stakes a little.” Minsoo produced three shot glasses, and rearranged the seats so that each person would be seated near the tip of an imagined triangle.

Hanni watched on. “I...guess it’s too late to say no. Sure, whatever.” Once more did she take a seat, and Danielle — as host — went ahead to be the first one to spin the bottle. It pointed at Hanni.

“Do you have any secret boyfriend you haven’t told us about?” asked Danielle, grinning slyly.

Her friend shook her hand and furrowed a brow. “No? You’d be the first one to know. I already told you that I don’t have any plans to waste time on that stuff, not until after we’re done with college anyway, and that’s still years away.” Hanni leaned forward and gave the bottle a new spin, it pointed at Minsoo this time. “Since you two seem to be into asking private questions, here’s one. Have you banged yet? You two seem awfully close so I can only imagine that you’re going at it daily, like clockwork.” There was a hint of jealousy in the way Hanni said those words, and Danielle instantly averted her gaze and stared at the ground.

“Nope. She wants to wait.” Minsoo answered. Nothing else was said and there was a brief silence while Hanni was torn between nagging for more information, or leaving the topic alone. Minsoo reached for the bottle and gave it another spin, it spun and spun before slowing down and pointing at... Hanni!

“Hold on, I already had a turn just now!” Hanni objected.

“We are just three people,” he pointed out coldly. “Bold question you gave me. Have you even had sex yet?” His gaze was entirely focused at Hanni, and she had no choice but to lean back, completely taken by surprise.

It was Danielle who interrupted the awkward, tense moment. “Okay, okay. This was a bad idea. That wasn’t at all how you’re supposed to play the game. There’s also another thing both of you forgot, I guess now is as good as time as any.” Her slender hand reached for the shot glasses and she filled each one, after which she quickly drank one in a single gulp and poured herself another.

They sat there, quietly. For the longest time they simply looked at the campfire and listened to it. Occasionally drinking another glass of strong whiskey. Each one of them thought about something different. Hanni felt a deep pit in her stomach, awash with the guilt of prying into something she should’ve left alone. Danielle felt both upset, and embarrassed — her family valued chastity until marriage. An outdated concept, but not something that’s worth getting disowned for just to break it.

More time passed without any of them speaking a word, they kept going until the bottle had been emptied. Danielle managed to pass out while still seated on the bench. Her head was tilted to the side with closed eyes, and the empty bottle slipped out of her lap. Minsoo caught it just in time.

“That’s it, then.” He slid his arms underneath her and lifted her up. There’s no way she could walk, he had to carry her to the tent. “This night is officially over, let’s get some sleep,” he spoke, only to notice that Hanni was nearly equally smashed and moments from falling off her seat. Swaying from side to side, much like the subtle movements of the large flame in front of her. It was a dreamlike sequence, almost like watching a pair of innocent twins — the girl’s flowing mane scarlet hair and the identical red fire.

Hanni’s eyelids felt incredibly heavy. Each time she blinked, it was a taxing achievement to open them anew. Her vision became a blurry mess.

Every time she opened her eyes, she felt slightly more...at ease. Comfortable. She began putting more effort into narrowing her eyes, focusing her view, only to stare up at the ceiling of the tent they built earlier. How did she get in there, when did she get there?

Hanni raised her head up, straining to do so. Her entire body felt stiff and heavy. As she looked down, she stared back at her naked breasts, even though she couldn’t remember removing her top, or taking off her bra. Her legs began to move on their own, rising up...and there in the dark she could see two hands manipulating her body.

Minsoo looked back at her, while his hands were holding onto the waistband of her underwear to peel them off her body. Just like that they came free and he tossed them off to the side. With her legs still up like that, Hanni could look at her own crotch. Her hairless, bare slit was completely exposed. It took her another moment to fully comprehend — she’s completely nude, and Minsoo was able to look straight at her womanhood. “Wha...what’s happening?” she groaned. “What the heck’s going on...” she slurred drunkenly.

“It’s cool, relax. We are going to help each other out tonight.” Minsoo gently lowered her legs back down to the cushy blankets that layered the ground. “I totally get why you were asking those things earlier.” His hand reached for his belt buckle. As soon as it came loose, he removed his pants completely, followed by his boxers. As soon as that fabric was out of the way, his erection jumped into sight as it bounced in excitement. A shimmering fat bead of pre-cum rolled off the engorged tip of his organ and dripped onto Hanni’s inner thigh.

The rapidly panicking teenager reached to the side, reaching for her friend. “D...Dan!”

Minsoo swiftly grasped her wrist and pulled it back in. “It’s all right, she’s sleeping. This is going to be our secret. You want her to be happy, right? Since I haven’t gotten laid in... fucking months. But something tells me that you don’t care about meaningless shit like remaining a virgin, right? It’s ridiculous. Tiny bit of skin. That stuff shouldn’t prevent you from enjoying your life, yeah?” His much larger body size made it nearly impossible for Hanni to squirm away, with a simple grip on her wrist he was fully in control of her actions. It didn’t help that her petite, small body was a much easier victim to the alcohol they consumed earlier. It had barely any effect on him, but she had become an utter mess and could barely even remain awake. Minsoo’s grip moved up to Hanni’s shoulder and hips, and with a single push he rolled her over onto her belly. She could feel the pit in her stomach, her intoxicated mind was spinning out of control.

He spat, presumably into his hand, since she could soon feel his fingers applying something wet to her labia. He spat again, but this time he shoved a finger into her slit and began spreading the lubrication around within her vagina. There was an immediate resistance and she moaned in discomfort. “What the...fuck, man. I am not Dan.” Hanni crawled a few inches forward, but he chased after her and simply shoved his finger back into her to finish applying his saliva to her delicate insides.

“I know, I told you. She wants to wait with sex, but you don’t. Either we fuck, or I’ll break up with her since lord knows I need some action.” Minsoo withdrew his finger and inhaled the subtle scent of her pussy. It clung to his finger after what he did. Hanni almost retched at the thought that he now knew exactly what her pussy smelled like.

She drunkenly pulled her arms close and placed her hands flat on the blanket, attempting to push herself off the ground while cursing under her breath. Her muscles behaved like wet noodles, there’s no tension. The tent began to feel even darker when she noticed Minsoo’s large body hovering over her own and casting a shadow. One of his arms moved underneath her to pull her in for a tight embrace. Her breasts were squished up against the blanket because of the added weight on her back.

There was a pause, until she could feel something fat and blunt kissing the lips of her pussy. His dick. Another push allowed it to nestle right there between the soft embrace of her labia. He simply needed to keep applying more pressure and that mushroom-shaped head would follow the trail of spit, right into her snatch. “That’s...all kinds of mes...messed up, cut it out...! You’re... her boyfriend. Boyfriend,” she repeated twice. The world continued spinning even faster now. Hanni reluctantly took a deep breath and stopped trying to talk, she was moments from throwing up. Any more effort and she would lose control.

A wet smooch announced the sudden entry of his dick, her insides were immediately stretched to the brim to try and accommodate the bloated, smooth crown. “Ahnn! Nnnnh...!”

The tight grip of his hand suddenly pushed against her mouth, silencing her almost entirely. “I know, babe. The first time is always the hard part. It’s just like opening a wrapped gift, ‘kay? After you’ve opened the box once, there you go, it’s always going to be nice and... accessible, right? I’m gonna open that little gift you’ve got down there, okay?” The remnants of saliva inside her did little to help his advances, and her gaze constantly shifted back to Danielle still sleeping just a couple feet away. Would their relationship really come to an end just because he didn’t get laid? His reasoning almost made sense, maybe she should let it happen. She stared down at the pillow while struggling to decide.

An angry demanding shove forward, out of nowhere, suddenly sunk his entire length into the petite girl. Her fragile hymen tore and disappeared. Her pussy instantly clenched down hard, a futile attempt to expel the invader while she sharply inhaled through her nose. Everything inside her felt sore, stuffed, stretched! For the first time in her life, she had the entire length of a cock wedged into the deepest parts of her cunt. She hadn’t even noticed herself groaning into his palm, a sound of pure defeat.

While Minsoo remained still and completely sheathed within her body, Hanni gradually became aware of...more. The shape of his cock. Every ridge, every bump, every vein. She fit like a glove, that soft warm flesh of her deflowered womanhood offered a loving embrace around every inch of his manhood. It was an intimate connection unlike anything else she ever experienced. Even moments after his rough intrusion she could feel her insides rhythmically tensing up and squeezing down on his erection. Loving spasms that caressed his appendage despite her reluctance.

It’s like her own body was betraying her. Tightness, heat, stimulation. Her pussy freely offered him everything he could’ve hoped for, including plenty of convenient space to dump his seed into.

“Come on, come on...fuck.” Hanni was vaguely aware of Minsoo’s annoyed tone, just an inch or two away from her ear. His breath was caressing her neck, it felt impossible to tell how many moments had passed.

Every sensation, every feeling, all of her attention was centered on her crotch. It’s the only thing she could do to keep her head from spinning all over again. All nerves inside her remained utterly overstimulated, firing off like a million alarms while her pussy refused to relax. She was torn between terror, confusion and uncertainty. If only she hadn’t touched that stupid alcohol. Her mind was the only thing that even remotely functioned, her body was all but useless.

Was she supposed to try and struggle, or was she meant to accept her situation however cruel it may be. The choice slipped out of her grasp when she felt herself blessed with another unfamiliar sensation.

More wetness, deep inside her loins. It was warm and gooey, pouring into her. The result of months of forced celibacy. Cloudy globs of Minsoo’s sperm were rapidly spurting into her crotch and splashing into the deepest corners of her love tunnel. His cock was quickly delivering it all, pumping and pumping it through the entire length of his manhood and depositing it inside her. Minsoo kept himself hilted inside the unfortunate girl, to make the most of his premature explosion by relishing the grip of her cunt for as long as it would last. His masculine erection continually throbbed and thrashed against her tightness, dumping as much seed as possible inside her pristine cunt. It was his first proper climax in so long that he made sure to get the absolute most of it, the idea of pulling out hadn’t even crossed his mind.

The former virgin struggled to keep up. The warm and slippery sensation... it began to awkwardly spread and ooze into every corner of her womanhood...everything inside her felt sticky and gross. It dawned on her that she just received her very first creampie, willingly or not. Her pussy had succeeded in gulping down every drop of semen that his cock had to offer. He was the first man to truly inseminate her little cunt.

His sweat dripped onto her back and he collapsed, pinning her in place and sinking his dick just a tad deeper into her abused twat. He had popped her cherry for good. The aftermath of losing her virginity was nothing to write home about either...there had been no romance involved. He didn’t kiss or cuddle her. He didn’t whisper into her ear that he loves her.

Hanni is stuck with the sensation of warm goo sloshing around within her most intimate parts.

She wasn’t even on any birth control, and there had been nothing to separate their genitals when he ejaculated all that pent-up semen into the welcoming comforts of her pussy. They had been intimately connected — like only lovers should be. It absolutely messed with her mind that she hadn’t been able to put up more of a struggle. Her only comfort was that she had done Danielle a favor, essentially by taking care of her boyfriend’s needs. While Danielle receives the cuddling and love. Hanni was only there to satisfy his cock and to carry his seed inside her — that thought was the last thing on her mind before the last remaining energy in her faded away.

Absolutely drained and exhausted, she passed out with his softening appendage still being kept in place by the lips of her cunt. Those soft folds remained neatly wrapped around the very base of his dick, just barely tight enough to prevent him from going completely flaccid. Her limit had been reached long ago and her body surrendered, there was no way she would wake up again anytime soon.

And when Minsoo woke up an hour later, it only took a few strong, deep thrusts into her before he sighed his approval — moaning into the sleeping girl’s ear while allowing his cock to twitch and squirt another helping of fresh cum deep into her unprotected loins. Two more times did his insatiable need return, and each time he took full advantage of Hanni’s peachy cunt. Every time he managed to last longer. For her final ride, nearly half an hour passed before another creampie was forced into her.

She was in absolutely no shape for repeated intercourse, not after she had just lost her virginity. Her tightness provided so much friction that she had rapidly reached her limits, and it would take her a long time before she would return to normal down there. It was her first marathon fuck, and she slept right through most of it.

Her sleep had been restless, fueled by negative emotions.

It was only sometime in the late morning when she stirred and woke up, the pesky chirping of birds surrounded the tent. An intense headache assaulted her long before she even managed to open her eyes, and she regretfully remembered the night of drinking. Those cursed birds weren’t making the morning any more pleasant. She felt like she awoke from a terrible dream, her entire body was sticky with sweat and she looked around to find herself safe and sound in her sleeping bag. Her memories weren’t all there, she couldn’t quite remember what happened after the little game they played. “Dan?” She glanced at two empty sleeping bags nearby.

Hanni slipped her arm out of the tight comforts of her sleeping bag and unzipped the sides, but she winced as soon as she attempted moving her legs. Her crotch felt horrible bruised and sore! While trying to remember what had happened after the game by the campfire, she slid the zipper down to the bottom and took a better look at herself. All of her clothes were gone. Her perky breasts had nearly a dozen of bite marks and hickeys, especially her nipples — usually pink — were reddish and tender.

A soft gasp escaped her mouth when she lowered her gaze further and spotted the current state of her womanhood. It wasn’t the sight of a subtle slit, the unremarkable view she was used to seeing between her legs. Her labia was fully engorged and red, the swollen flesh was glistening and wet after an entire night of being stimulated. The intense, pungent smell of unprotected intercourse assaulted her nostrils and she coughed in protest. The usual, ladylike smell of her vagina was overshadowed by something else. Her cunt had the smell of a good few hours of fucking.

Upon leaning forward, she also spotted a string...a cotton string dangling out from between the raw lips of her pussy. A thick, sticky substance kept the folds of her cunt almost glued together and a pool of mostly translucent fluid had gathered underneath her crotch. She gingerly touched the string and gave it a gentle tug. There’s a familiar feeling somewhere in her tummy. It’s a tampon. And it’s pretty deep inside her. It was then that she noticed the...sheer wetness inside her. It’s like someone had popped a water balloon in there. This wasn’t the normal default state, this wasn’t even arousal. Her memories came flooding back.

She carried his sperm still inside herself. Millions and billions of those grotesque tadpoles. All of them swimming around inside her genitals, hoping to find an egg. He had happily transferred the contents of his testicles into her defenseless womb without thinking of the consequences. Hell, he probably had no sperm left inside his balls at this point, all those wiggly excited things were now safely stored inside her young and receptive vagina. And the tampon kept her nicely plugged up, giving his spunk all the time it needed to get the job done. The fool probably thought he was doing her a favor, a real gentleman, plugging her up like this so that she wouldn’t spent the entire night leaking cum.

Again she felt her stomach churning. Her highest priority was to get back to the city and to get a morning after pill. At least he had been right about one thing, she really didn’t care about her virginity all that much. Sex is just that, a physical act. Dick goes into vagina, both participants have a good time, dick pulls out and you’re done. Nothing special.

When she stood up, Hanni could feel the mass of goo shifting around somewhere inside her flat stomach. She’s gonna have to remove that tampon as soon as possible, this felt just too weird. It sent a cold shiver down her spine. It’s creepy that a guy had taken full control of her lady parts like that, and it felt even weirder to think that she’s carrying a batch of his DNA inside her crotch. Literally the only purpose of that stuff was to plant a baby in her tummy, it was repulsive.

Hanni carefully gathered her panties and her shirt and began to get dressed, enough to conceal the awkward cotton string dangling below and to hide the marks on her tits. Every step made her wince in discomfort, but she simply couldn’t leave the tent while naked.

Upon brushing the flap aside to peer outside of the tent, she spotted Danielle and her boyfriend by the campfire as if nothing had even happened. The two lovebirds were affectionately cuddling and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. It was a golden opportunity for Hanni to sneak just behind the tent, squat down, and to peel the crotch of her undies aside before removing the plug that had kept her sealed for lord knows how many hours.

A gush of liquids spilled out of her almost instantly, and she gasped at the awkward realization that nearly all of it was just...remnants of serving as that guy’s cum dumpster for a night. It poured out of her tender slit. The pressure faded rapidly, and as soon as it did, the stream began to trickle down her inner thigh to create even more of a mess. “No! No, no...shit.” This wasn’t at all like in the movies, why did she have to put up with this humiliation when she hadn’t even been the one to enjoy an orgasm? She reluctantly stayed put, awkwardly peeing out that guy’s cum for the next few minutes...

Simultaneously, Danielle experienced a whole different kind of adventure. She was entirely locked up in her own little world of fun and experimentation, knowing nothing of the struggle that happened just a few feet away. Her eyes were fixated on what was just a few inches in front of her face. “Are you sure? I didn’t think we would need this. I’m not even sure if it works,” Danielle laughed nervously, staring at the object of her desire.

“Yeah of course it’s going to work, Dan. Just try it.” Minsoo did his best to reassure her, right now there was only one thing he could think about.

“All right! I’m going to do it!” With a nervous grin, Danielle continued holding onto the heavy cast iron skillet before squeezing a big chunk of pancake batter out of the plastic bottle, which she held in the other hand. As soon as the thick fluid spread into a large enough circle in the midst of the pan, she moved the frying pan to hold it over the open flame of their wild campfire. Soon enough, the batter formed bubbles and she yelped in amazement upon flicking her wrist and successfully flipping the pancake in the process. She felt like a master chef. This was her world. This was all she ever wanted, pure joy.

“This is the best thing ever!” she cheered in bliss. Cooking in the kitchen just didn’t quite feel as special and raw as this. After preparing the first few pancakes, she also spotted her friend appearing from behind the tent. “Han! Breakfast is ready! I didn’t even know you were awake!” The petite girl approached on unsteady feet, more hungover than anyone else by the looks of it.

“Ye-yeah. Nice. Coming.” Hanni struggled to keep herself from walking bow-legged. The events of last night need to remain a secret for the time being, regardless of what’s going to happen in the future. Her gaze lingered on her bestie instead of the guy by her side — she couldn’t bear the thought of looking at the one who pounded her into submission just a few hours prior. She could still vividly remember the distinct feeling of his dick as it plunged into her over and over. Up until then, nothing had made her feel so out of control. But after what happened, it didn’t even feel like her pussy was still entirely her own. A part of her now belonged to him. She couldn’t deny that there had been some weird, primal connection between them. Perhaps sex was more than just a physical thing after all.

Hanni half-heartedly nibbled on her breakfast while sitting on her lonely bench by herself.

“Oh I almost forgot!” Danielle interrupted. “I got...some good news and some bad news, which do you wanna hear first?” she asked while looking over to her absent-minded girlfriend.

“I guess the good news? Are we leaving after breakfast? I need...to do something. We gotta stop by the pharmacy. I’m not feeling so well.” She took another bite of the pancake and lazily chewed the soft texture.

“Well that’s going to be a wee bit problematic. I mean you see, the good news is that you’re gonna get to enjoy the mountain air a little longer since we may be here for a bit.” A nervous laughter followed and a faint blush crept onto Danielle’s cheeks. “You see, I kind of forget the car keys in the ignition, so the car battery’s all dead. It doesn’t help that our phones can’t get a signal here. But!” she said while reaching an arm forward and raising her index finger to the sky. “Don’t you worry! I had told my parents where we are going. They’re on a trip for the weekend but they’re without a doubt going to pick us up as soon as they return! With some rationing, our food’s easily gonna last for two days! Two or three days and we’re gonna be rescued with an amazing story to tell! So yea, take the good with the bad, yup?”

Hanni’s heart sunk right down into the dirt beneath her feet. She doesn’t have two days, even one day would be stretching it. Remnants of his spunk still lingered inside her. At this rate she would’ve left home as pristine virgin, and she’s bound to return home as freshly pregnant teenager just a few days later. This camping trip had been just the worst so far.

She could feel Minsoo’s gaze stripping her again. He’s an asshole all right, and there’s no doubt he’s had sexual intercourse with her without a trace of consent, and his sperm has got to be one of the most vile things she’s ever had the displeasure of dealing with...but she couldn’t deny that having his cock inside her tender slit felt lewd, perverse...natural.

And now that Minsoo had gotten a taste of the paradise Hanni’s carrying between her legs, he couldn’t wait to get back in there and to continue where he had stopped. Strangely enough for Hanni, a tiny part inside her was actually beginning to look forward to it. There had been countless times when Danielle and her gossiped and chatted about that curiosity, about what it may be like to have sex.

Neither of them had ever been in a position to experience it, but now Hanni had a chance. Her memories of the first encounter were foggy at best...but simply by remaining quiet about the ordeal, she would soon enough be forced to repeat the encounter. While sober. Perhaps it would feel good this time. Better. It could even end up feeling amazing, like the only part she’s been missing her whole life.

Needless to say, breakfast had done nothing but to fill the teen with more anxiety and reasons to doubt both herself, and the situation she’s in. At least she didn’t have to worry about it until nighttime, or so she thought.

“All right...” Danielle glanced back at her childhood friend. Something was quite clearly upsetting her a lot, and Dan had nobody to blame but herself for the dead car. “Since we might be stuck here for at least two or three days, I guess we should try to make the most of the situation, right?” The reasons eluded her, but both her boyfriend and Hanni had been completely distracted. As far as she knew, they were bothered by the dire circumstances. “How about you two stick around and give it another try to fix the car battery? Han is good with electronics, and Min knows how to handle a car!”

She reaffirmed her beliefs with a confident nod. “And for the worst case scenario, I’ll go ahead and grab the backpack with some snacks and see if I can find a lake somewhere nearby. At least we can take a bath and clean ourselves if I find one. I did notice you two were a bit sweaty...but no pressure. It’s supposed to be a hot day today, so a bit of sweat is normal. I’m sure I will find something!”

“Wa-wait, already? I think you should stick around for a bit.” That nervous stutter was more than enough for Minsoo to realize that Hanni must have remembered what happened during the night — if the sticky mess between her legs hadn’t already clued her in. That simple thought was already enough to fill him with a familiar ache in his loins and an urge to bend her over again. On the contrary to his expectations, the rumors about the petite girl were true. Her pussy was the tightest he’s ever had, and the orgasms with her were addictive. He could still remember struggling to pull out of her in the early morning, it was like a damned vacuum seal, her cunt was practically sucking him right back in.

“I think that’s a great idea Dan,” Minsoo pointed out. “If anything happens, just yell and I’ll be right there for ya,” he added while leaning in to give Danielle a kiss on the cheek. She beamed with pride and quickly retrieved her backpack. She was determined to make them happy.

“Okay! Great! If you do manage to fix the car, don’t forget to pick me up before leaving!” The way he suddenly seemed to be at ease was enough motivation for Danielle to get right to it — if finding some fresh water would be enough to redeem her for her mistake, then that’s something she would happily do, without hesitation. “I’ll see you guys later, good luck!” With that, she took a quick look around the area before walking forward and entering the shadowy area of dense forest vegetation.

Which left Hanni entirely alone with the guy who had stolen her virginity. They sat on different benches just a few feet from each other, and he stared at her. There was no love or affection between them. No romance. What they both felt was little more than pure instinct, a physical need. They both had something which the other person needed, like two pieces of a puzzle.

Hanni could feel it. Despite her hesitation, her body was already taking over in anticipation of what’s likely to happen. She could feel the blood rushing into her crotch, her natural lubrication began to flow more freely, and a vague emptiness inside her was yearning to be filled. She didn’t even like the guy! Even less so after he casually blackmailed her. But her pussy was trembling and aching. Subtle contractions squeezed her pussy around an imaginary invader, and jolts of pleasure teased her from head to toe. Every spasm left her a little more breathless.

“Same deal as before. Get naked, or I’m going to break up with Dan.” A long moment of silence followed while her eyes wandered across the earthy ground, pondering her options. Almost in slow motion did Hanni eventually give in and surrender to Minsoo request. She hadn’t always been a perfect friend to Dan, but at least like this she could keep that relationship intact. Assuming he didn’t break his word. Plus, she couldn’t deny being at least a little curious about what sex is like without being drunk.

Her petite hands moved down to grab the thin fabric of her panties, and she gradually pulled them down her slender legs until she held the bundle in her hand. Even now, her peachy slit was glowing red and had dried white flecks of cum across her labia. Her inner conflict grew even more when his hungry gaze pinpointed that delicate triangle between her legs. “Just... just promise to keep it secret, okay? Don’t tell Dan...and you have to pull out! You can’t come inside me!” She quickly dropped a hand down to block the view at her battered womanhood.

This was a terrible idea, what was she thinking? She once more realized that she’s entirely unprotected, there would be absolutely nothing to separate them once he’s inside her. Bareback, that’s how they would be doing it. There was too much at stake, and she definitely didn’t want to get knocked up before graduating. She didn’t want to get knocked up at all. The idea was repulsive, she didn’t want to carry some guy’s DNA inside her belly for nine months.

“You are way, way overthinking this,” Minsoo told her while approaching. It was easy for him to pick her up, one quick arm underneath her knees and one to support her back, just like that he lifted her up and she yelped in surprise. He began carrying her towards the tent, the same place where he robbed her of her virginity. This is what he had always wanted. Not a girl in her mid-twenties, who already fucked a dozen guys and learned to rely on rubbing her clit just to tease an orgasm out of her twat.

He was Hanni’s first. He had a chance to teach her what she’s allowed to enjoy. In addition, her body was untainted and never endured all the chemical changes that can be caused by using a hormonal birth control. Plunging into her bare, unprotected cunny was as natural and desirable as it could get.

He could barely wait to bust another nut inside her, to force her vagina to absorb more of his spunk. It’s like a delicate ecosystem in there. Dump enough sperm inside and things will go haywire. He looked forward to filling her many more times. Until he managed to erase every last trace of the girly scent her vagina used to produce, and she’s stuck with the musk of his own semen continually escaping her slit. He loved the idea of completely owning her sexuality. Even if she were to sneak off to rub an orgasm out of her little cunt, she would be forced to inhale the warm pungent smell of his cum as soon as she got wet enough. It would be an instantaneous reminder that her pussy belonged to his dick and nothing else.

Hanni had no idea of the consequences if she were to keep welcoming him with spread legs and a bruised cunt willing to accommodate his fuck-stick, despite the discomfort his size was causing her.

“I ain’t overthinking anything, okay!? Dan is my best friend so this is something I do only for her sake. And you can’t come inside me! Do you even know how high the risks are? The average sperm count of a normal ejaculation is-” Hanni was instantly interrupted when Minsoo dropped her onto the blankets and zips the tent back up, closing the only exit. “Ou-ouch...what the hell, man?” She had dropped right on her perky bum, and rubbed the sore cheek. She didn’t even notice that she was sitting spread-eagled and gave him a good view of her pussy. There was a faint glistening, a shimmer of arousal. It was obvious that her body was at least slightly interested in repeating their previous encounter.

“It’s just sex, all right? What do you think a pussy is for anyway? That’s like...literally what it’s made for. I think you spent way too much time on the internet or something, just accept you’re not a guy. You are a girl. This is your purpose.” Minsoo began removing his shirt, followed by his pants. “You’ve got a perfect little cunt down there, so we’re going to use it. I’m going to use you. The less you talk during it, the better.”

A furious blush crept across Hanni’s cheeks. Did he seriously just dare reducing her to little more than what is between her legs? She furrowed her eyebrows. That charming personality he’s putting on around Danielle had all but disappeared, he didn’t even attempt to be pleasant. He spat into his hand and once more lowered it down to her crotch before thrusting two of his fingers into her, coaxing a gasp out of the startled teenager. He gradually moved those digits back and forth, spreading his saliva inside her.

“Did no one ever tell you that’s...gross and unhygienic?” She gazed down and looked at the vile combination of lubrication her pussy was coated in. A mixture of her own juices, his frothy spit, and old cum that had still been inside her. He was able to shove his fingers in much deeper than in the past. Her hymen was no longer in the way. He had made sure that one is permanently gone.

Even if he was right and getting laid is just a simple matter, it was still heavily nagging on Hanni’s mind that he treated her like a pile of meat. On the other hand, it was difficult to care a whole lot about having sex one more time, considering the...current state of her vagina. It wasn’t flattering. She was a sloppy mess down there. His choice of words was pretty spot on. This didn’t look like a cute virginal slit anymore. It was a cunt, one that looked like it had been fucked a few times, by a cock that had been just a tad bit too large to fit in properly. Nothing would change if she took him in just one more time.

It was so incredibly difficult to think straight with so many emotions in her head. She felt furious but excited. She felt shame and arousal.

He removed his underwear and revealed his cock once again, semi-erect. It was slowly pulsing to life, still growing and hardening. It’s the first time that she saw one in person, in broad daylight. It was veiny and grotesque, dicks are not an attractive sight. But it didn’t need to be. She knew where to hide his fat erection. Inside her.

A warm throb echoed through her crotch and she was reminded of that dull empty feeling inside her. It was disgusting how needy her body felt. It only grew stronger when she inhaled that musky scent of sex that still originated from her pussy despite her earlier attempts to clean up. It was their combined smell, their mingled juices, his cum as well as her own. Her vaginal walls were saturated with it, her pink flesh had soaked up every last drop of their intimate encounter and she knew that she would never again feel clean on the inside.

“Whatever,” the feisty girl added with her eyes embarrassingly glued to his appendage. She remembered his insulting preference to take her from behind, and reluctantly rolled over onto her belly. It was a mutual preference, at least this way she didn’t have to look him in the eyes while he used her. It only took him a few seconds to climb on top of her while he kept a fist wrapped around his chubby dick. He placed it right up against the entrance of her well fucked pussy, and unceremoniously shoved it inside with a single greedy thrust until her labia snugly engulfed the base of his member.

“Ahnn! Nnhaah!!!” Hanni tensed up, every muscle in her body went stiff, and it suddenly felt like her entire cunt was stretched to the brim to make space for his cock! However, she knew well enough by now that complaining or whining would just urge him on to be even more of a dimwit. Minsoo proceeded to hold himself there for a few more moments while she endured that unpleasant, sharp feeling somewhere in the back of her lady parts. Unbeknownst to her, he had managed to hilt his entire length within her — that smooth crown of his dick touched the end of her love tunnel, smooching her cervix. A milky bead of his pre-cum already escaped his tip, joining what he had dumped inside her during the night.

He began with slow, steady thrusts. Mechanically. Fucking into her and loosening her up from the inside. Every now and then he would change the position of his hips a little bit to the left or right, causing him to thrust in at an unusual angle and straining her insides further. Hanni didn’t make a sound, she was firmly biting down on her pillow to prevent herself from moaning out loud. There was a growing feeling of pleasure the longer he kept going, her pussy was surprisingly quick to adjust. It was humiliating to think that she was gaining something so pleasant out of having sexual intercourse with her friend’s boyfriend, it was so wrong but was beginning to feel so incredibly right.

Her bigger concern was that she noticed how it wasn’t merely the presence of his meaty package which turned her on so immensely, it was also the needle-like sharp pain whenever he pushed too deep. It made her flinch and groan into the pillow, but it felt so oddly arousing at the same time. It was a good pain.

His pace quickened, and his carelessness grew. Both of his hands grabbed a tight hold of her hips while he aggressively hammered into her snatch, filling the small tent with the audible sound of sex. His crotch slammed against her shapely ass repeatedly and audibly, akin to getting spanked, and it only drove her crazier. Hanni could feel herself reaching it, the peak, way up high and just barely out of reach.

But then he simply groaned into her ear and collapsed on top of her. He had finished just as she was about to have a good time. His entire weight fell onto her backside, which in turn pressed her breasts uncomfortably against the ground. They had been bruised already, so this pushed her right off track and ruined her orgasm.

Instead, she was treated to a warm wet sensation spreading inside her loins, and the dull throbbing of his appendage while he pumped wave upon wave of fresh cloudy cum into her receptive cunt. His balls contracted rhythmically, dutifully delivering his seed at a rapid pace, as nature intended. She immediately blamed herself more so than anyone else — she should’ve known better. Of course he didn’t pull out. This was her punishment. She’s his cum receptacle.

However, Hanni could feel her own excitement coming right back at the thought of him using her for nothing but his own selfish desires. It’s the first time a guy had ever shown such an obsession with her, even if that interest lingered mostly on her privates. She could feel her heart beating faster. Her skin tingled with desire. By sheer instinct she suddenly began to buck her hips back against him while inhaling sharply. Her own eyes widened in surprise as she felt spikes of pure pleasure thundering through her entire being, robbing her breath and making her acutely aware that she’d just climaxed at the mere thought of being used like this.

A small orgasm, but she’d undeniably gotten off to the thought of being his puppet. She enjoyed that he cared so little about her that he didn’t even bother to pull out. For a split second, she even thought she could feel his sperm as it began to swarm her cervix, swimming inside, chasing down the egg that may be waiting inside her. “Oh god...what the hell is wrong with my pussy, why does this turn me on so much,” she mumbled to herself, after which she immediately rushed a hand up to cover her mouth. She did not mean to say that out loud!

She waited. She couldn’t tell if Minsoo had managed to hear her words. He must have, considering she could feel his breath on her cheek. Slow and calm. “Wait, are you...” Raising an eyebrow, she twisted her head to glance up at his face and confirm her suspicions. He had fallen asleep, with his flaccid dick still lodged inside her womanhood and his weary testicles resting against her tenderized labia. She was uncomfortable, sweaty, and the obscene scent of unprotected sex began spreading inside the small tent...it couldn’t get any worse.

Until someone began unzipping the tent...and Danielle stuck her head inside with an innocent expression on her face.

“Where is everyo-” she interrupted herself, after which she at first coughed in disgust, and then took a step back. “What the...Han? Min? What’s going on?! What are you two...?” Her gaze lowered down to where their genitals were still connected. The vaginal lips of her best friend were horribly stretched around the thick penis of her boyfriend. She struggled to believe her eyes. Unlike Hanni, she was a devout religious person and had never even seen the privates of someone other than herself. Her world begun spinning, she felt dizzy, this couldn’t be...

“Da...Dan! This isn’t what it looks...no, I can explain!” as the girlfriend just kept watching from the entrance of the tent, watching the way her friend suddenly squirmed and struggled to try and get free from underneath her lover. Danielle stumbled backwards on unsteady feet before collapsing to the ground. The shock had been too much for her to endure. She passed out.

Her vision went black.

It felt impossible to tell how much time passed.

Consciousness returned only slowly and Danielle couldn’t manage to open her eyes just yet. She could however hear and listen well enough, to the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. There was also a distinctly wet and slippery sound, a perverse squelch that accompanied the rhythm. Danielle parted her eyes and found herself on top of her sleeping bag with a blanket to cover her. She was inside the tent.

And in plain sight, she watched Hanni on all fours, completely naked, with widely parted legs while being taken from behind. Each eager thrust from her partner caused a small shockwave to ripple up along her body, the force caused her breasts to jiggle and bounce in tune to the primitive pounding. She still couldn’t believe it. How could this have happened? Her heart broke into a thousand pieces, and shattered into another thousand each time she listened to the sound of their lovemaking.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Danielle spoke weakly, her voice trembling. “This is disgusting! You are both disgusting...!” Minsoo glanced at her for just a moment before gazing right back at the ravishing girl he mated with. He had a newfound interest in knocking her up. It was entirely new to him, but the idea of inseminating Hanni’s cunt and forcing a baby into her belly was hot. She had to be the most petite girl he had ever seen, and it was a thrill to think how she may look like with his child growing inside her.

“I don’t even care anymore, you should’ve introduced me to your friend earlier.” He began speeding up, feverishly fucking into that pristine pussy. There was no grace to his actions, this was all about taking charge. “It took a single day to get into her panties, and she gets off on being treated like a slut,” he added. “She’s prime fuck-meat. A perfect little whore.”

Right there between the teenager’s legs was their visible connection. Minsoo’s hairy crotch repeatedly met with the hairless opening into Hanni’s pleasure box. It was an airtight vacuum. Nothing escaped her, nothing else entered her. They had become one, together. Every inch of cunt meat inside her was stretched taut around his erection.

Hanni buried her face in the pillow, both to muffle her gasps and sighs, but also to hide her face. It stung that he was telling the truth. When he finally reached his orgasm to end the ordeal, he used his grip on her waist to sheathe every inch of his dick inside her while uttering a guttural, pleased groan. He injected her with multiple thick bursts of his semen, pumping her full until it was overflowing and dribbling out of her peach to join the puddle underneath her crotch. Hanni cried into the pillow upon feeling her own climax triggered by the sheer humiliation of it all. Her body shivered uncontrollably. She hated just how much she loved the discovery of her own perversion. It wasn’t going to end. She had gotten addicted to it. At this point she would do almost anything just to keep her womanhood stuffed with his prick as much as humanly possible. They belonged together.

And so, for the following three days, Danielle had no choice but to accept the new circumstances. She lost the two people she cared most about. Not only that, but she had to watch them — and listen to them — having sex for nearly the entire time up in the mountains.

The two lovers didn’t care for the lack of privacy. They went through every possible position, wherever they could, while keeping Danielle as spectator. The entire campsite reeked of their combined cum. When they ran out of clean clothes, they simply remained naked. It wouldn’t make a difference. Hanni kept a rich coating of dried semen along her thighs and her entire vulva was kept sticky and gooey. Minsoo had remained true to his words, every creampie was served directly into the girl’s twat while Dan had to watch helplessly.

When her parents came to pick everyone up, the car was dead silent. Overall, it was the complete opposite of what Danielle had hoped to achieve with the spontaneous camping trip. She never told her parents what happened. She cut off all contact with everyone, to focus on her studies. To distract herself. To pretend none of it ever happened.

Her only relief, bitter-sweet as it may be, was seeing a familiar face a few months later at the prom party towards the end of high school. Hanni wore her jet-black hair in a long ponytail, cute red blush adorned her cheeks. She almost looked like a princess. Almost.

Some girls envied her, others laughed at her. She was the only girl at prom with a big healthy baby bump.

#hanni smut #newjeans smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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illusioninfnty · 1 year ago

Text

"i'll do anything!" ↠ day 23 ; virginity loss

↠ bo sinclair x reader

fandom: house of wax word count: 2.8k warnings: nsfw 18+, bimbo!reader, reader has shitty friends, coercion, corruption, dubconish, fingering, blowjob, cum swallowing, dirty talk, kind of semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pervy!Bo, allusion to murder, the plot is like a bad porno but i promise this is good guys

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“God, did you forget to fill the tank again?”

You lean over from the backseat to take a look at the fuel gauge, and see the arrow is nearing empty. You furrow your eyebrows. “I was sure it filled up all the way,” you murmur. You try to recall when you all last stopped at a gas station, and how your friends delegated you to fill up the car while they went into the shop and bought snacks.

“Well it obviously didn’t, you idiot!” Your friend jerks the wheel and pulls over on the side of the desolate road. “This is why we never like to go anywhere with you.”

You bite your lip, holding back tears. It wasn’t your fault that you were so forgetful sometimes, always getting distracted and lost in your thoughts.

This was supposed to be a fun road trip with your three closest friends, celebrating your college graduation nearing. But after a car karaoke session that went on for too long made you guys miss an exit, you’d been stranded on empty roads with nothing but trees surrounding you for quite a few miles now.

Your friend sitting in the backseat with you turns to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. “You should be the one to go find a gas station,” she protests. “It’s your fault we got stuck out here anyway.”

Your two friends in the front row look back at you and then at each other before nodding in agreement.

You crane your neck to look at the journey that would be ahead of you. It looked as though it continued to stretch for miles and miles with no end in sight, only the empty road and dying trees.

“By myself?” you ask hesitantly.

All three nod in unison.

You huff in defeat, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the vehicle.

“I’ll try to be back—”

They slam the door in your face before you can answer.

“—Soon,” you finish before sighing and starting the long walk, hoping to find some destination before it got too dark.

Bo was not expecting to see a pretty little thing like you around Ambrose when it was nearing dusk, especially all alone. You had your arms wrapped around your bare midsection, and even from his spot inside the gas station he could see that you were shivering from the cool air as the sun set. You were looking around frantically, and he could tell immediately that you were lost and looking for help.

He smirks. Oh, he’d help you, alright. Bo took that as his cue to reveal himself to you. He wipes his hands with a dirty rag and tosses it aside, exiting the station.

You hear the ringing of the bell as Bo opens the door, and you turn your head towards the source of the sound. You scurry on over, seeing Bo in his mechanic’s uniform.

“Sir! Hi!” you start, fumbling over your words. “You work here, right? Do you have some gas? My car—well, it’s my friend’s—but it’s, like, miles back there and we ran out.”

Your eyes then shift to the side and he could tell you were embarrassed. “It’s kind of my fault.”

Hmm. Sir. He liked hearing that come from your pouty lips.

Bo gives you a toothy grin. “Don’t gotta worry your head ‘bout it, sweetheart. I’ll get ya all settled. Come with me.” He slides his hand across your lower back, just barely grazing your ass. You gasp under your breath at the feeling, and Bo can’t help it when his cock stirs at the sound.

As you walk into the gas station, Bo scans you up and down. He notices that you have nothing on your person but your clothes, and even then it’s just little scraps of a skimpy top and skirt—which means you must’ve forgotten a wallet, too. His grin widens even more.

Reaching behind him without you noticing, he cranks the thermostat down. The air gets cooler within seconds, and Bo revels in seeing your nipples harden as they poke through your top.

He goes to find a can of gas, rolling up his sleeves as he plucks it from a top shelf. He notices when you gulp and stare at his muscles as he flexes them subtly.

You were such a cute little doll. He was going to have fun with you.

He plops the can on the counter. You go to reach for it, but he holds a hand out. “Ten bucks, little lady.”

Your eyes bulge almost comically and it takes all of Bo’s strength not to laugh at your expression.

“Wow, that’s a lot more than I thought it would be,” you say nervously, shifting on the balls of your feet.

Bo exaggerates a sigh. “Times are tough out here, owning a small business like this. We don’t get many customers out here.” He opens his hands to motion to you the desolate town of Ambrose.

You completely buy into his bullshit excuse, nodding your head in complete understanding. “Oh my god, that sucks, like, a lot.” Patting down your lame excuse for a shirt, you look up at Bo with wide eyes, jaw dropped in surprise. “I forgot to bring my wallet!”

You were such a dumb little thing. What were your sorry excuses of friends thinking, sending you off all alone?

“I’m so sorry, sir!” You clasp your hands in front of you in a pleading manner, looking up at him with big, watery eyes. Bo holds back a groan. Jesus, those eyes could make a man cream his pants if he wasn’t too careful. “Please, is there anything I can do to pay you back? I’ll do anything!”

Bo pretends as if he’s thinking long and hard. Oh, he knew exactly what you were going to do as payment.

“You know, I get lonely sometimes,” Bo starts, a mock frown on his face. “A cute lady like you could really help a man like me out.” He shuffles up to you, and palms your ass under that sorry excuse for a skirt.

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing onto his arm. “That’s really sad, sir.” You look lost in thought for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know if I can do that for you though.” You bite your lip, looking unsure of yourself.

“Aw, you gotta be kidding,” Bo clicks his tongue, rubbing his hand around the plumpness of your behind. “I bet you’ve helped lotsa guys out, huh?”

“A-actually,” you look down in shame. “I’m a—” you lower your voice to barely over a whisper, “—virgin.”

Bo blinks. That wasn’t a response he was expecting from you. So the slutty clothes were just for show, was it?

“Oh really?”

You nod, blatant regret all over your face. “I don’t think it’ll be good for you, ya’know, since I haven’t really had any practice and all that.”

He puts a smile back on, laughing gleefully and patting you on the shoulder, rubbing a thumb between the groove of your collarbone. “Well, that’s no problem for me, sweetheart. I can teach ya!”

Your eyes lighten up. “You can?”

“Sure I can!” He starts to undo his belt, throwing it aside on the counter. “Just need you to get on your knees for me and I can show you what to do.”

His cock jumps in anticipation, looking forward to seeing your juicy, plump lips wrapped around—

“Wait a minute!” you cry out, interrupting his fantasies.

Bo pauses in his movements, his jaw ticking at your interruption. “Yes?” he askes, concealing his frustration.

“What’s your name? I don’t wanna do this without knowing it.”

He sighs and points to the nametag on his jacket. “I’m Bo.”

You slap a palm across your forehead and nervously giggle. “Oh jeez, I should’ve known to look first!”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bo mutters through his teeth impatiently. “Now lemme help you out, alright?” “Oh! Yeah, sorry!” You—finally—drop to your knees in front of him. “What do I need to do?”

The sight of you in front of him like that, so eager and pliant, had his cock jumping in his pants.

Bo lowers his jeans and boxers, his hard cock now revealed to you. He wraps a hand around the base stroking his full length as it puts it on display for you.

“That’s…big,” you murmur. You look up at him, concern plastered across your features. “I dunno if it’s gonna fit.” Your eyebrows crease together and those damn pouty lips of yours come out again.

Bo bites his cheek to conceal his smirk. This was gonna be a lot more fun than he thought. “I told you, that’s what I’m helping you with, ain’t I?”

You nod.

“Great. Now open those pretty lips up for me.”

You open your mouth as wide as you can, giving Bo a perfect hole to stick his cock into. He guides himself inside you, hissing as the warmth of your mouth envelops his length.

“Good girl,” he praises. He begins to thrust his hips slowly, your lips latching onto him as he does so. “You gotta let me move, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you mumble around him, and he groans at the vibrations that travel up his cock.

Your lips loosen and you start to suck on his cock, the suction of your lips making shivers of pleasure run down his spine. He grips the back of your head, controlling the pace of his thrusts.

“Fuck, look at you,” Bo hisses. You look so pretty and innocent with his cock stuffed down your throat, gags escaping your lips. “You’re a natural. Sure you haven’t done this before?”

“I told you—!”

Bo slaps your cheek, shushing you. “Stop talking.”

You nod obediently, the action making him pulse inside of your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens as his thrusts become harder, more primal. He fucks your mouth with vigor, ignoring your gags and the way your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.

He cums faster than he’s ever had before, groaning as his hot release coats the back of your throat. You cough around his cock, spurts of liquid splashing against your cheeks.

“Swallow it,” Bo commands.

You gulp harshly, your lips still secured around his cock. The extra pressure has him bucking his hips and like a good girl you swallow all of his cum. He pulls his cock out of your mouth, and you begin to cough and sputter as you regain your breath.

“Is that it?” you question him.

“Baby, I still gotta get rid of that virginity of yours.”

“Oh.” You giggle behind your hand. “Right.” You start to strip, only taking a couple of seconds since you’re practically naked already. “What do I do now?”

Bo’s cock hardens back to life at your nude form in front of him. Your nipples are hard, attached to your perky breasts that bounce up and down right in front of his eyes. He stares lecherously, licking his lips. “Now that you got my cock all wet,” Bo rubs his length, now slick with his cum and your saliva, “I can stick it in your pussy.” You bite the inside of your cheek and nod, your eyes flicking between his face and his cock. “I know I asked before,” you begin, and Bo moves to place your hand over his cock, “but will it really fit?”

Lord, he was really starting to understand why your friends let you go alone.

“Yeah, I told you, I’ll make it fit.” He lifts you from the back of your legs and places you on top of the counter. He brings his thick fingers to your pussy, sticking a fingertip inside.

You gasp and arch your body into him, throwing your arms around his broad back. Your bare breasts brush up against his chest and he relishes in the contact.

“That feels really good, Bo!” you cry out. He adds a second finger inside of you, pushing the digits in deeper. He can feel how wet you are and the way you clench around him so desperately. Your hips jerk into him unsteadily, chasing the pleasure his fingers bring you.

He chuckles. “It’ll feel even better when I stick my cock in you.”

Bo removes his fingers, basking in the way you whine as he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing and desperate to be around him. He lines his throbbing cock with your entrance and pushes himself in without hesitation.

“Bo!” You scream, nails digging into his back. Little gasps leave your mouth as he begins to thrust in and out of you. Your pussy grips him like a vice, and it’s difficult for him to move inside you with you so needy for him.

He shushes you, gripping your cheeks and watching as tears leave your eyes.

“It hurts,” you whine to him. Your nails grip onto him as if your life depended on it.

He shoves his face into the crevice of your neck, placing kisses upon it. “Gotta relax a bit for me, okay?” he coos into your ear. “Or it won’t feel good for you.”

“You promise?” you ask through glassy eyes.

He nods, and feels as you unclench just a tad around him. Bo is able to rut himself into you harder now, and he can’t help but be more forceful with his thrusts as it causes your breasts to bounce right in front of him.

“Look at that.” He motions towards where the two of you are connected, his cock pulsing at the way your blood and juices coat the base. “Look at how we're connected now.”

Oh wow,” you gasp in awe. “That’s kinda romantic, huh?”

Bo doesn’t respond. If you wanted to put it that way, he wouldn’t stop you. He ignores the way his heart stutters in his chest.

His hips continue to pound into you, your body bouncing along with the power of his thrusts. The whines that come out of your mouth sound so angelic, and Bo has to fight the urge to kiss you.

“I—I think I’m gonna cum,” you moan out, your head thrown back and your eyes are scrunched up in pleasure.

Bo didn’t need you to tell him that. Your pussy goes back to clenching down on him, your walls tightening around his cock, fitting themselves to the shape of him. He curses quietly into your neck. He never wanted to leave the warmth of your pussy.

“That’s it, baby,” Bo coaxes you. He moves a finger to your clit, enjoying the way you jolt at the newfound sensation as he rubs circles on the bead. “Cum around my cock.”

“Cumming!” Your voice is squeaky as your legs come up to wrap around his backside, and you finally reach your peak. Your pussy tightens around Bo even more, and he can’t help it when he cums for a second time as you squeeze every last drop out of him.

You pant heavily as you come down from your orgasm, sweat rolling down your temples despite the cold air of the station that surrounds the two of you.

Bo’s own breathing is heavy, something he’s not used to much. You squirm out from beneath him as you drop from the counter, legs still shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm. You bend down to gather your scraps of clothing, and Bo has to take all of his strength to conceal his groan as he watches his cum slowly leak out of your pussy.

“Leaving so soon?” Bo didn’t know what compelled him to say that. You were just some cute college kid passing through that was a chance to get his dick wet. Yet there was something about you that drew him to you, like a moth to a flame.

You shimmy back into your clothing, and he notices how you ignore the trail of his cum that runs down your thigh. “My friends’ll be mad at me if I take too long getting back.” You pause in your movements. “I can take the gas now, right?”

Bo’s heart drops in his stomach. He realizes quickly that no, he wasn’t going to let you take the gas. In fact, he wasn’t going to let you leave at all. He wanted you—needed you—here with him. He couldn’t let a pretty little thing like you just pass by him like that.

He glances outside quickly. The sky's already turned to a pitch black hue, and he knows there’s no streetlights on your way back to where your friends wait for you. He turns back to you as you stand awaiting his answer.

“It’s pretty dark out there, little lady.” You peek over his shoulder, and your eyes widen as you realize just how late it had gotten. “It ain’t safe for you ta’ be out walkin’ all alone. Why don’t you stay over at my place for the night?”

“B-but what about my friends?” A pout overtakes your face and you look up at Bo with puzzled eyes.

Bo smirks, holding you close to his chest and running a hand over your hair. “Don’t need ta’ worry about them, sweetheart. My brother’ll come an’ fetch ‘em.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair #house of wax x reader #house of wax smut #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher smut #slashers x reader #slashers smut

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foldingfittedsheets · 1 year ago

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We had the most egregiously evil little pony horse when I was growing up. I know everyone says that. Ponies are one of the animals that truly understand how to commit crimes but she was really deeply atrocious. One time she tried to murder me. Her name was Fancy.

I feel I should slightly explain here. See, my parents bought two acres with a house and a barn and pasturage and went “We’re farmers now!” They had absolutely no idea what they were doing. And at a certain point along that journey my mom got her hands on a horse. Technically she was half pony half horse so she was this weird middle size.

Fancy belonged to a friend of hers and he showed her how to saddle Fancy. And that was it. That was all we knew about this horse. So my mom brings her home and saddles her and we decide to go for a ride on this new creature in our lives. But Fancy, being the savvy bitch she was, was far too canny for our dumb asses.

Her maiden ride went to my older brother and ended rather abruptly when the saddle slid completely sideways and my brother toppled off her, miraculously unharmed but unwilling to ever try again. This made me like Fancy somewhat, because I hated my brother.

Those familiar with horse trickery would have caught her ruse but Fancy had deliberately held her breath to make the saddle seem tight enough. But in stride she let the breath out, the saddle loosened, and my brother came toppling down. She planned that fuckup.

I was a bit more game, being a dedicated horse girl. I wanted to succeed where my loathsome brother had failed. Keep in mind: none of us had ever ridden. We had no idea what we were doing, and in the only defense I’ll ever make of that hoofed demon it was probably not pleasant to have a human flopping on her back like a sack of potatoes. But I paraded around in a circle until she scraped my leg against a fence post. I lasted longer than my brother but had to admit riding an animal radiating malice at you is not comfortable.

We didn’t really ride Fancy much after that. She was a decorative aspect to the fields. Sometimes I’d sit on her bare back while she was eating. Every so often she’d buck me off for assuming familiarity with her.

But Fany's coup de grâce took several months. Most of the pasturage had electric fence running along it to keep the livestock from testing the fences or getting a taste for freedom. My parents were constantly moving fence posts and reallocating land to different purposes which is how one of the major gates ended up with electric fence running over top. During a move the wire got left up from the last border and now it was strung over what should have been an open passage.

I was taking a ride on Fancy, living in a fantasy that I had any idea what I was doing. My mom was out working in the yard, and as she passed through she left the gate open, forgetting the wire hazard. You know who didn't forget?

Fancy.

She beelined for the open gate and I realized a second too late what her plan was. I hauled back on the reins with all my strength but she powered through, charging at the wire. If I'd caught on sooner I could have tipped forward and probably cleared it.

It was roughly chest height. But she was too savvy, keeping a slow pace right up until the passage, and I didn't have time to react. The thought of getting electrocuted sent me down into a terrified backward limbo, desperately trying to flatten myself along her back.

Her assassination almost worked. But instead of beheading me the wire caught under my chin, pressing back into my neck like a garrote. The only good news was that the wire wasn't live, but I was still in terrible danger. I squealed and wiggled and managed to twist my neck enough that the wire scraped over my face instead of pressing deeper. Once we were through Fancy stopped and turned to regard me, disappointed that her murder had failed. My neck was bleeding but my head remained attached.

My mother was absolutely terrified and I was pretty shaken myself. We unsaddled Fancy for the last time, as full on attempts on my life were a bit more than I was willing to bear for the sake of pretending to be a fantasy hero on an epic journey. My neck still has a faint scar from her homicidal tendencies.

Fancy got to remain a decorative horse for many years after that, free of our attempts to ride her. Her last torment was when my mother decided to try to breed her to achieve an animal that was less interested in murder.

But Fancy, true to form, brutally attacked the stallion sent to service her, even when hopped up on horny hormones. There would be no foals from Fancy, and her saga ended when we sold her to another unlucky soul.

#ramblies #writing #story #funny story #true story #horses #horse #horse girl #ffs foibles #pony

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itsswritten · 4 months ago

Text

feels like home

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: The start of fairy readers journey and how she ended up in the Night Court. Essentially the start of the love story we all now love <3

Wings Universe - More from this world.

Autumn

Now you weren’t the arrogant kind — Fairies were always known to be humble. It’s why for the most part, your kind kept to your meadows, didn’t construct social hierarchy like Fae, and kept those mesmerising wings hidden.

However you were proud of your skills as a fairy. You were dutiful, talented, and worked incredibly hard. The youngest fairy to ever be enrolled on the fairy council. So the fact you were failing now, was quite a humbling awakening.

You blinked again, Elodie’s panicked voice blurring into the autumn breeze.

Your first stop on your travels was the Autumn Court. Visiting your cousin, who had offered refuge after your reluctant departure from Spring. Although you missed your home terribly, you were really trying to embrace this opportunity— the chance to explore a new court, spend quality time with family, and further your studies on the other seasons. Turning the dire situation you had to abandon into something positive.

However things were not going how you had expected. Apparently Autumn didn’t agree with you as well as Spring always had.

“Y/N, there are snowdrops…in Autumn,” Elodie's concerned tone broke through. Your gaze hadn’t left the scene in front of you. Dewy snowdrops glistening under the cool autumn sun.

You swallowed, your throat dry. “I’m aware.”

The snowdrops were your flowers. Beautiful but wrong. Your magic had manifested a spring flower in an Autumn court. Something that should never happen.

It had been two months. Two months of no problems, and although the autumn shades didn’t necessarily suit you and the breeze didn’t sing as sweet as home, you had managed to settle in.

You learnt how to get by. However the mess in front of you told you otherwise.

“What are you going to do?” Elodie pressed, her nervousness emitting beside you. You never got things wrong, you were always the one everyone else relied on– Mistakes were a rarity for you.

“Trying to figure that out,” your hands fisted the fabric of your dress at your sides. Your mind whirring as you tried to figure out a plan. The intricacies of your ability had always come so naturally to you in Spring, but grappling with a new season left you fumbling for a solution.

“What. Are. Those?!” Your cousin's voice hitched in a tight tone, her voice hushing towards the end so as to not draw attention. She stalked over, her autumn-hued dress billowing behind her, hands were flailing towards you as she stormed in your direction.

With a spin you turned to her, stepping in front of the patch of snowdrops that had sprouted— as if she hadn’t already seen the little blooms that seemed to sway in the wind in mockery.

“I don’t understand…you were doing so well. I asked you to help bring the harvest along. You know, pumpkins, squash, apples. Not flowers!” Your cousin’s brows were drawn in tight, confusion and dismay in her tone. You could practically see her mind reeling as she took in the scene before her.

Instinctively your hands came up towards her, creating space, trying to calm the situation.

“I know. It’s just a small hiccup, I can reverse it. It’s fine,” you reassured quickly, not even allowing yourself to fester in the worry.

You were the youngest fairy on the council you reminded yourself— a mentor to many of your friends and colleagues. This would not phase you.

Rolling your shoulders back, you looked at the taunting flowers straight on. Flexing your fingers as a drop of magic glowing like a little firefly, sunk slowly from your fingertips to the ground. Seeping into the deep earth that was covered in a blanket of burnt coloured leaves.

A beat passed as the three of you held your breath. The forest seemed to hold it’s breath too, it’s mild wind coming to a silence.

Then, one of the buds quivered slightly, vibrating before it began to shrink and swirl back into the ground it had birthed from. A heavy sigh left your lips, shoulders dropping as Elodie gave you a slight smile. Chewing the inside of your cheek you gave her a knowing wink.

But that moment of relief quickly dissipated. Before your eyes more and more flowers began to spring before you. As though your magic had the opposite effect you had intended.

Relishing in your victory too early served you your humiliation. Your cheeks turning hot as you watched the disaster unfold in front of you. It was rare for you to fluster, but you could feel the simmering of your pride burn deep within your gut at the sight of your mistake. Eyes wide as the white petals spread further beneath your feet.

This had never happened before.

Your fingers twitched beside your sides. Magic at your fingertips itching to resolve the mess, but your confidence had been knocked. You didn’t fully trust yourself or your ability, and that was a hard acknowledgment to make.

“Okay, you need to leave now.” With a light push, your cousin ushered you away from the disaster you had created.

“What? Wait! Just give me a moment to think. To fix this” You pressed back, your ego not allowing you to submit to this defeat.

“I don’t have time y/n. That Vanserra princling’s on his way, and if he’s anything like his father he will have your head. So leave. I will fix this."

Your expression must have spoken a thousand words, words of vulnerability and insecurity, because your cousin's expression softened for a moment. Bringing you to a quick embrace.

“Your time in Autumn is up. Mistakes happen, and that’s okay. But it’s time to go.”

“But—“

She cut you off. “No but’s. You’ve both done amazing, but let’s not pretend. This isn’t the place for you, don’t think I hadn’t noticed.” Her expression was warm and understanding, as welcoming as the shades of fall. But despite how welcoming this season had been, it didn’t feel like home.

“Go explore the land, go find somewhere that feels right y/n,”

“What if…—”

What if nowhere felt like home? What if you didn’t fit in anywhere else?

Elodie grabbed your hand with a tug then, someone had winnowed to the outskirts of the field. A figure with fiery hair and a tempered presence.

There was no time for what if’s. So you left. Left your cousin to face the flame, and left to find a new home…if that place even existed.

Winter

“Why are the bears awake?!” There was a scream across the forest that ran through the barren trees. You recognised the tone, one of your Winter mentors no doubt. The shriek so sharp that any remaining creature that slept must have surely been awoken.

“Oh no..” Elodie almost cried, her feet slipping in the snow beside you. You could almost hear her heart pounding in sync with yours.

The bear—the bear you had accidentally woken—groaned and yawned, its massive paws stirring the snow as it pawed at the air, confused and sluggish. Its hibernation had been broken, and it was far too early for it to be awake.

You had been at the Winter Court for only a short time, and already, things were falling apart. The sharp, biting cold of the court was one thing, but the coldness of its people? That had been harder to handle. Their bluntness, their stoic ways, had left you feeling like you were constantly on the edge of doing something wrong. And now… you had.

It seems Autumn was not the only season that didn’t agree with you.

You blinked back your own tears, swallowing hard as you almost lost your own footing.

“Elodie, help me,” you commanded, snapping into action as you pushed against the bear’s thick fur, trying to guide it back to its den. The beast groaned again, but refused to budge, blinking its sleepy eyes at you.

The entirety of your weight was pushing against the giant bear that groaned against you, your heels digging in deep to act as an anchor in the cold white snow.

No matter how hard you tried, against your advice, the bear wanted to wake.

“Go back to sleeeeeepp little beearrrr- hicc- pretty pleaseeee” Elodie sang desperately, her voice wobbling with panic.

“Elodie that is not the lullaby,” you hissed, your own frustration bubbling up.

“I know, I’m panicking. I’ve forgotten it, y/n. What is it?” She replied beside you, face squashed against the bear’s fur as she tried with all her might to push the bear back to its bed.

You blinked. You couldn’t remember the song either.

You pressed harder, trying to remember the words yourself. Your breath was coming in ragged puffs, visible in the freezing air. Your wings, though hidden by magic, felt stiff from the cold, and your fingers ached from pushing against the giant furry animal.

By some stroke of luck after several attempts from Elodie to lull the bear back to sleep, the words of the forest lullaby found your tongue. Your magic flowed with the song, wrapping around the bear in a gentle embrace, lulling it back to sleep. Slowly, so slowly, it began to plod back toward its cave, its massive body sinking into it’s cosy bed deep within the cave.

“We did it,” Elodie breathed, her face as flushed and exhausted as you both slumped into the cold snow beneath you. The bears snoring filling the frosty air. “Maybe we got away with–” before Elodie could even finish her sentence, a shadow cast across you under the winter sun.

Your winter mentor, whose expression was as harsh as the court’s wind. Her cold, judging eyes swept over the scene, her lips pressed into a thin line as her long slender finger pointed towards the border.

Summer

It was everywhere.

Sand that is.

There was sand in your clothes, shoes, hair and even your pretty wings you always kept hidden— but that didn’t matter because that sticky Summer Court breeze would somehow ensure you were absolutely covered in it.

Blinking away yet again another gust of sand in your eye, you sat slouched under the shade of a canopy.

You were on shell duty today, meaning you had been out in that blistering sun all day. You’d always enjoyed the heat you thought, but perhaps now you realised you enjoyed it in much smaller doses.

That beacon in the sky felt especially relentless today. Your skin was burning to the touch, head heavy, dry throat and eyes stinging.

With a huff you watched as Elodie came and slumped down beside you. She went to nudge you gently with her shoulder, but you both gagged as your skin stuck and peeled away from one another with sweat.

“I heard the Day court borders are open…” she muttered, glancing towards you, anticipating your reaction.

You didn’t like giving up. Call it Spring stubbornness, but it wasn’t in your nature.

After a moment you murmured back, “Is there sand in Day?”. You swallowed hard, eyes set ahead on the expansive blue ocean before you, the line where the water met the sky blurring in a haze.

“Not nearly as much as Summer,” Elodie replied in a beat.

You didn’t like giving up. But clearly Summer didn’t agree with you either.

“Let’s go.”

Day

Perhaps it was your series of bad luck that had now left you with an attitude of indifference but as you crouched behind the freshly preened hedge you wondered how quickly your impeccable reputation had crumbled on your travels.

You were now about to commit a crime.

Perhaps crime was a bit dramatic. But trespassing was still trespassing. Trespassing on the High Lords home too.

You had been here over a month now. The Day Court wasn’t unpleasant—far from it. The libraries were vast, the streets safe, and the people, though indulgent, were kind. Yet something within you stirred restlessly, a quiet unease that had only grown with time. You had given it weeks, trying to settle in, hoping the feeling of displacement would fade. But it hadn’t. Every corner of this sunlit paradise felt like it belonged to someone else.

It didn’t feel like home.

So your papers were arranged. Tomorrow, you'd travel to Dawn, hoping to find something there that felt more like yours.

But before you left, there was one thing you had to see. One thing that had tugged at your curiosity since the moment you'd arrived: the Pegasuses. Said to be the pride of the Day Court, magnificent creatures kept under Helion’s personal protection, far from the eyes of the public.

That was why you were here now, slipping through the shadows of Helion’s estate, your heart racing in your chest. The Pegasuses weren’t just for show, or figments of stories; they were alive, breathing, and you wanted—no, needed—to see them yourself. Call it that fairy instinct, but you weren’t leaving till you saw them with your own eyes.

Your path led you through twisting gardens, till you found yourself at the heart of Helion’s estate. You crouched quietly behind the foliage, praying to the mother you’d catch a glimpse of what you’d been searching for.

Your breath caught in your throat.

There they were.

An entire herd of them, grazing peacefully. The sunlight gleaming on their coats. A shimmering silver that resembled the glow of your own wings. The sight of them took your breath away. They were even more magnificent than you’d imagined.

So magnificent that just looking wasn’t enough.

With a swift quietness and feather light steps you moved from your hiding place towards the herd.

If Elodie could see you now, you’d be sure to be scolded. You’d left her with the cute librarian in the city, told her to enjoy her last day. That you still had papers to sort– she didn’t need to be an accomplice in what you were committing. She didn’t need to know.

The Pegasuses flicked their ears, one of them lifting their head to look at you. You froze for a moment, the hairs on your arms rising, anticipating their reaction but as it blew a breath there was an ease that settled over you.

They didn’t shy away, as if they’d always known you were there. As if they had been waiting for you to pluck up the courage to meet them.

Marvellous creatures.

One of them stepped towards you, meeting your hand as it grazed across the plain on its face. Your gaze ran down its back to its wings that stretched out and then flanked back in.

“Well aren’t you beautiful..” You sighed with a smile, your fingers scratching the sweet spot behind its ear, its hoof tapping against the earth as if in agreement.

You’re not sure how time had passed, but it was distant laughter that blew in on a breeze that reminded you just how precarious your situation was.

“Come Rhys, come see my pride and joy…” A voice chimed across the garden.

You didn’t need to stick around to guess whose voice that belonged to, so with a gentle kiss against the velvety nose of the Pegasus you bid your farewell. Quick as a sprite, you slipped back into the shadows.

Just as you reached the edge of the estate, you glanced back over your shoulder. Offering a sweet smile to the Pegasuses you had met, hoping that despite Day not feeling like home your paths would cross with the magnificent creatures again.

It was Azriel who stood by the golden archway in the garden. Watching as Helion presented the treasures he boasted so often about– the beautiful Pegasuses that were now grazing in front of them.

“I would like one..for Feyre,” Azriel heard Rhys try to negotiate with Helion, their voices blending over the soft breeze and rustles from the animals. That he hadn’t even noticed his gaze had fallen elsewhere, all the way to the border of the estate he noticed a rustle in the leaves, a flicker of light perhaps, but there was a faintest scent of something on the wind—a hint of honey and peonies.

He paused, tilting his head as if attuned to something that beckoned him, though he couldn’t quite place it, but maybe with time he would.

Dawn

Imbuing the sky sounded easy. Fun even– But as you glanced up at the Dawn sky that resembled something more like dusk you swallowed hard.

The golden hues of the Dawn Court greeted you with a warmth that felt almost too soft. Here, everything shimmered with the glow of early morning—pastel skies, the gentle rustling of trees in the breeze, and the constant hum of quiet tranquillity. It should have felt peaceful. It should have felt right.

But instead, it felt fragile. Like a dream you couldn’t quite hold onto.

You had tried. When you first arrived, you thought maybe this would be the place. The Dawn Court was steeped in a quiet sort of magic—delicate, but powerful. It suited you in theory: a blend of intellect and beauty, the balance of light and creation. You had forced yourself to adapt, to fit into the patterns they laid before you, hoping this time, this Court, would finally feel like home.

But when tasked with the simple task of imbuing the sky, it had stirred something deeper, something darker, and the sky had responded.

You opened your eyes, gasping in horror as you watched the colours bleed across the horizon—not the pale blush of dawn, but the rich, burning tones of dusk. Deep oranges, purples, and indigos streaked across the sky like a wildfire, swallowing the soft morning light with every passing second.

The magic swirled around you like a storm, the sky thick with colour, draping over your skin like an ink-stained canvas. You tried to stop it, to pull it back, but it wouldn’t listen. The darker hues clung to you, soaking into your skin, wrapping around you like tendrils of shadow.

From dawn to dusk and then to twilight..

It was beautiful in a way—if only it wasn’t so terribly wrong.

“Don’t.” You bit out through gritted teeth, stopping Elodie from saying anything. The deep purple hue of sky covered you. The shimmer iridescent resembled something of a paint, but it was almost too beautiful to even be compared to that.

You didn’t even wait for your Dawn mentors to scold you. Simply went to pack your things and leave.

Lip quivering at another failed court, another failed attempt at finding home.

Night

The Night Court was the only place left. The last court you hadn’t yet tried, the last hope you had of finding where you truly belonged.

Which at this point you felt as though living amongst the thorns of Spring was a better option. You should never have left. Perhaps this was your punishment for abandoning your court, despite having no other option.

Your fingers tried to brush away the sky that was still infused to your skin, you looked ridiculous. As if you’d painted yourself in the night court's colours out of admiration. You were grateful the midnight hues concealed how embarrassed you looked.

The Night Court was a stark contrast to the sunlit lands you had just fled. Shadows danced among the trees, and a cool breeze whispered amongst the glistening stars.

It truly was beautiful.

But there was a looming weight with that realisation. Every court you'd experienced was beautiful– in its own unique way. So why would Night be any different? Why should you believe this would be the court where you truly belonged?

“Papers please,” A soft voice broke through, a female was reading through your documentation. Dorned in a dark robe, Illyarin soldiers flanking her sides.

She quirked a brow as she took in your appearance.

“It’s just sky…” Elodie butted in as if it was a normal occurrence– normal for one to be covered in the celestial shimmers of the sky. You swore you heard the High Fae mutter something under her breath, a small bite about meadow fairies that had the males beside her snicker. However after a quick assessment, she waved you both through.

You had assumed this admission would feel like every other court, plain, dull, but the moment your feet stepped across the border there was a simmering in your chest. It was as if the Night Court itself was welcoming you, the ancient forest shifting its branches above to clear a path for the stars to twinkle down upon you. The gentle breeze carried the distant melodies of the city, wrapping around you like a soft embrace.

You dared to speak of what you were feeling, but one quick glance at your friend and you could see she felt it too. A twinkle sparkled in her eyes as she shared a smile with you, a silent exchange that spoke of hope and dreams. For the first time in what felt like ages, laughter bubbled between you, light and carefree. You clasped each other’s hands, giggling at the energy and magic you were feeling.

There was something about this place, something that felt so familiar–

So enamoured by your senses you hadn’t even been paying attention when you bumped into something solid.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” you sputtered quickly, a breathless laugh escaping your lips before Elodie gasped, pulling you back into the crowd of newcomers.

“You just bumped into an Illyrian!” she whispered urgently, her wide eyes darting over her shoulder.

Your gaze followed, landing on the broad backs of two towering Illyrian males. One had long, dark hair, loosely tied back, his wings flexing slightly in the night breeze. The other, taller with shadows whispering around him, his presence somehow more commanding– more intriguing. Your eyes lingered on him the longest, an odd tug pulling at your chest.

“Oops…” you shrugged, voice bright with laughter as Elodie tugged you further into the crowd, your chuckles mingling with the hum of the night.

You hadn’t felt this carefree in so long, hadn’t felt this light. As the lights of Velaris approached and the noise of music filled your ears you had a feeling that perhaps this was all going to work out okay.

That perhaps you had found somewhere you belonged after all.

𓇢𓆸

Azriel felt the brush of something against his side and turned slightly, pulling him from his conversation with cassian. They had both been sent to do border control, and had watched an array of individuals enter the court. It was his job as Spymaster after all, whether it be from the shadows or to stand in example at the borders he would vet the newcomers.

The night had been slow, no disturbances, no conflicts– uneventful. Just how he liked it. Only people seeking a fresh start had crossed into Night. He took pride in knowing so many chose his home for that new beginning. He was listening to Cassian as he gushed something about Nesta, when a light nudge to his side had pulled him from conversation.

They stood in the centre of the track that ran from the forest to the city, the two males, a stoic divide, as people flowed around them like a river parting. Except one– you.

You hadn’t moved around him.

Lightly, as though your thoughts had been tangled with the stars above, you had brushed against Azriel. His shadows hadn’t even warned him of your approach, and for a brief second, his breath caught at the softness of your touch. He turned, drawn to the quiet apology that lingered in the air, following the sound with his eyes.

And there you were.

You shimmered, wrapped in twilight, your skin glistening in the soft hues of the night sky as though the heavens themselves had adorned you. It was hard to distinguish where the night ended and you began, your form almost blending with the dark expanse around you.

But before he could speak, before he could even process what he was feeling, you disappeared into the crowd. A fleeting figure, gone in an instant, leaving him staring after you.

Azriel’s shadows hummed beside him, them too grappling with a need to know more.

He hadn’t caught your name, hadn’t had the chance to see your face clearly, but something about you had gripped him, held him in place. The faint scent of honey and peonies lingered in the air where you'd passed, stirring something deep within him.

Instead of words or answers, Azriel was left with a feeling—a pull. One he couldn't quite explain, but one he hoped to find an answer for.

a/n: Thank you for the wait...but here is the beginning of our favourite fairy and Azriel. I actually started writing this when I was visiting @writingcroissant in Edinburgh and we were sat in a little cafe till 10pm writing our little fics! It was so fun <3 (I'm still awaiting Crush...no pressure ;) ) I'm so glad it's finally finished. It was so hard to keep the stories this short, I feel like I could have easily explored more of fairy's travels in the courts (It wasn't all bad experiences I promise) lots of good memories too, so perhaps I will explore another time. But I hope you enjoyed the little connections to Azriel even though they still don't know each other yet tee hee

This is also dedicated to @searchingforbucky I'm pretty sure you said you were excited to read this/I said I would write something for you (If i have got it wrong, correct me) so here you are my lovely! Thank you for constant support.

Sorry to everyone that there isn't much Azriel and romance in this, Wings really has become a world of it's own at this point but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Please please please let me know what you want from these two next <3 - lottie xxx

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

Wings tags: @minaethrym

#wings universe #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #angst #azriel shadowsinger #fairy x azriel #fairy reader x azriel #fairy reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

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jensthwa · 4 months ago

Text

woo's prelude: a clown's remedy to heal a broken heart (JWY x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

A drunk and kind of akward conversation inside of a closet is the start of Wooyoung's journey into healing his broken heart. Only he doesn't really know the name of the Scarlet Witch that helped mend a heart that wasn't supposed to break anymore, even if she starts plaguing his thoughts and dreams after that.

PAIRING: wooyoung x fem!reader.

GENRE: halloween hookup to [redacted] (we'll get to that when we need to).

WORD COUNT: 11.9k

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, insults, woo getting his heart broken by his ex girfriend even though they're friends and they haven't been romantically involved in YEARS my god he's a dummy, reader getting her heart broken too, some self worth issues, frat bros being stupid and getting drinks throw at them for stepping over the line, howl!wooyoung (not for people with weak hearts and strong imaginations), making out, biting, description of female anatomy, sweet dirty talk and praising , fingering, semi-public (they're at a party, does that count?) and protected sex (wrap it up please), switching them positions for him, masturbation, hook up talk and the start of something new that we won't see for now but soon!

NOTES: hi everyone! decided to do a halloween drop on halloween day because spooky season is not over until i get this story out of my system it seems! this story is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone finally yay! THIS A PRELUDE TO WOO'S STORY, a little taste of what's to come for him and his boo (see what i did there?). this took place BEFORE we can't be friends (san's story) and will be placed accordingly on the masterlist to clear any future confusion. there's mentions of the characters that show up in wcbf so if u want to better understand the dynamics, you can read that but it's def not needed!

this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: october 31st 2024 at midnight!

masterlist

There's a particular way one too many tequilas can make a room spin that Wooyoung absolutely adores.

When it happens, he lets himself catch the world swirling around him before closing his eyes and praying for a little bit of lucidity to come to him so he can get his drunk ass home safely.

As he opens his eyes, his face scrunches at what he sees: San, dressed as Gomez Addams, waving a hand in front of him. It takes him a little to remember where he is.

It's a bit extra confusing with all the costumes and strangers and the music blasting through the speakers but when it finally clicks, he's grateful that he's not completely gone yet.

“Are you good?” He can faintly hear San ask over the music, San’s girlfriend by his side dressed as Morticia, eyeing him with a quirked brow.

Why is San with her? He will never, ever get it.

Kyungmi is not really right for him. It's been a few months already since they made it official and Wooyoung can just tell. He always tells. He's not as oblivious as everyone paints him to be.

There's one girl who's right for San but, in all honesty, Wooyoung is too tired to fight him on it.

San always shoots back with a comment about him and Gyuri, his ex girlfriend (now best friend) and it always brings his mood down for some stupid reason.

He's oblivious to why that happens. By choice, of course, but oblivious nonetheless.

He prefers it that way.

Wooyoung would nod, but he knows it's dangerous to do so “Just peachy.”

“Why don't you—” San starts but he interrupts.

“Some air and water,” he smiles, taking the water bottle from his friend’s hand “Waaaay ahead of you, babe.”

Kyungmi rolls her eyes “Quit calling my boyfriend babe, dude.”

San laughs, Kyungmi does not.

“Don’t be jealous because he loves me more than you,” sticking his tongue out, he stumbles his way around them both “I'll be back.”

He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until he reaches a very big window. It's larger than usual.

Oh.

It has a door. A door that slides!

It's a balcony. Amazing, just what he needs: To be a safety hazard and a possible traumatic experience for everyone at the party.

He should probably turn back around before he's accidentally leaping over the edge but then he sees it.

He sees her.

Corpse bride. Her blue makeup being wiped off by somebody's tongue in a secluded corner of the backyard of this stupid frat house the friend group ended up for the night.

Gyuri is kissing someone.

His chest tightens, his mouth drops slightly and his heart thumps hard enough for him to feel it on his throat.

Why is she doing that?

She's wearing matching costumes with him. She carefully picked them out, she ordered everything a month and a half ago and now she's kissing some… Some… Attempt at a Superman costume.

Which is pretty fucking hilarious because how do you fuck up a Superman costume?

But Wooyoung is not laughing. He's hurting, he's fucking pissed and, at the same time, he can't pull his eyes away from her. From them.

Is feeling this pathetic something that would fit Víctor?

Vector?

Whatever his name is?

He's never seen the Corpse Bride, so he doesn't remember the name of the dude he's dressed up as. He just knows he wants to wipe the pale complexion Gyuri painted on him off.

Off. Off. Off. Out. He needs to leave.

But he ends up going back inside and downing another shot before he can really think about it, giggling to San and pretending nothing happened because who the fuck is he to Gyuri to get upset over it?

Her ex, sure. But that happened a long time ago, so it doesn't count anymore.

So it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters when he finds Yeosang (dressed as the Phantom of the Opera) and drags him to the dance floor for what it feels like forever.

And then, one thing leads to the other and he's sitting on the floor, in a circle of people he doesn't even know, playing spin the bottle.

Or is it seven minutes in heaven? A vampire and a fairy kissed in front of him half a second ago, but Zuko and the creepy doll from that one netflix show got up and into a closet like… six minutes ago.

He didn't really pay attention to the rules.

Oh, well, he's about to find out anyway!

Fingers grasping the soju bottle in the middle of the circle, he carefully inspects the faces of everyone sitting there, expectantly looking at him.

His vision is a little blurry but he wants to pick whoever strokes his fancy the most to try and get rid of the funny feeling he gets when he sees Gyuri walk right in front of him and head for the drink table.

He decides quickly that, as long as it makes him forget the image of that dude's tongue down the mouth of the love of his life, he's good.

So he spins the bottle. It spins and it spins and it spins and everyone leans forward in anticipation until it stops in front of someone.

There's someone on his left that audibly gasps and Wooyoung looks at them before his eyes focus on the person he has to… Kiss? Get in a closet with?

What does he need to do?

“You can skip her if you like,” some dude with red paint dripping down his forehead and cargo shorts tells him. He's not even sitting down in the circle but lying on the couch closest to it “She's in a bad mood.”

That’s when the Scarlet Witch that the bottle landed on rolls her eyes and gets up.

Wooyoung thinks he's about to lose his turn and wait for the next round or until the bottle lands on him when she offers him her gloved up hand.

He gets up. He's a little bit more sober now, alert as he plants his feet on the carpet again just to not make a fool of himself, throwing a glance at Gyuri just to find out she's not actually looking at him at all.

The pang on his chest comes back.

“Don't throw a drink on him just for trying to kiss you too, sweetheart, that's what the game is all about,” the same dude from before tells her as they both pass by the couch and head for the space Zuko and the doll who, he assumes, just got done with their seven minutes was occupying “Don’t say I didn't warn ya, Wooyoung!”

Who is this obnoxious motherfucker and why does he know his name?

It takes two and a half hazy steps until the darkness of the small space engulfs him and Scarlet Witch.

It's one of those long closets with narrow walls that leave absolutely no space to move around when you actually need to put something away, but it's a perfect nook to make out.

He would know, he's been in this situation many times.

He lets go of the stranger's hand, only because she turns away from him and then she huffs once the door closes. Wooyoung hears a thump against the wood of it, so he assumes she hit it with her fist or her boot.

“Fucking asshole.” She mutters under her breath but he hears it.

It dawns on him that the reason he sat down to potentially kiss strangers that night was to be seen.

Wooyoung wanted people to see him so they knew he was completely fine and, as soon as Gyuri walked into the room, his motivation was for her to see him doing completely fine.

Cool. He's cool. He's one of the actual cool guys at the university, he's been told so before.

He also wanted her to feel a little bit jealous but now, eyes closed for a few seconds to try and regain composure after whatever just happened, he realizes that she probably wouldn't even care.

So this whole thing is useless anyway. Only now he gets to meet (kiss?) someone dressed as one of his favorite characters of the decade.

There, as his eyes adjust to the minimum light that's filtering under the door, he realizes his mistake: he said nothing to defend her.

In his defense, his drunk brain processes the information a little too late. And, in her defense, Scarlet Witch seemed like she didn't really care what the asshole said in the first place.

Now he notices that's not true.

It's hard to make out her figure but he hears another soft thump and when he turns his head to the right angle, he's able to make out that she just leaned against the door.

He opens his mouth to apologize, he thinks, but she beats him to it.

“We don't have to kiss or… fuck or whatever people do with their seven minutes.”

“Wow,” he laughs, his back finding a wall and almost knocking something placed on a tiny shelf next to his arm “I promise I wasn't expecting you to—”

“Yeah, yeah, save it,” she lets out a breath. “If you want to tell them that we kissed, that's fine by me. I know how your frat bros behave when you don't do what you're supposed to.”

“They're not my frat bros. In fact, they are not even my bros,” he frowns, and slides against the wall because his legs are threatening to give in. He's suddenly very, very exhausted “I don't know them.”

“Isn’t your name Wooyoung?”

“Y-yes?”

“Then you know them,” she shoots back, matter-of-factly “And I'm not interested in kissing any of your kind tonight.”

“My kind?”

“Men,” she clarifies and Wooyoung can feel her smile in her next words “Although frat bros are a different kind of species altogether.”

“I'm not a frat bro!”

It takes a second and his honest frustration but she laughs “Sure.”

In the dark, with his ego bruised and his heart crushed, Wooyoung thinks it's a pretty laugh.

He thinks it's even prettier when he hears a little ruffling and then her body heat invades his space, kind of. She just sat beside him, thigh against his and perfume reaching his nostrils. It's a mix of something sweet and something citrusy.

It's really nice.

He gulps before asking “W-what was that about?” and then points to the door like she can see him.

“He's in one of my classes. He thought he could kiss me and when I said no, because fucking look at the state of him, he tried to kiss me anyway,” she says all chirpy but Wooyoung picks up on the sarcastic tone and let's out a soft ew at the story “I preventively threw my drink on him because I got a little freaked out and now I'm sober and pissed off. I think he's a little upset about me thinking he was about to take advantage of me.”

He grimaces “You can't never be too sure, though.”

She hums and then sighs a: “I know.”

“I don't even know his name but he does sound like a fucking asshole.”

“Why does he know you?”

Wooyoung shrugs and he's a little glad it's dark. He's not exactly smiling, his playful nature not coming out at the moment. “I'm a pretty popular guy.”

“I don't know you.”

“Well, I don't know you either, so we're even,” he shrugs again and it's kind of hypocritical because, to be fair, he didn't get a good look at her face at all “I just know you s-smell nice.” He murmurs, tripping on his words like a babbling drunk idiot.

Maybe because that's what he is right now.

“Thanks… I guess.” She sounds weirded out by that but he's not sober enough to care.

“You're so welcome.”

There's silence in which Wooyoung does nothing but try to find her in the dark. He eventually does, given the fact that the light from under the door casts a little on her face now that she's sitting down.

He doesn't recognize her, which is odd. Wooyoung knows almost everyone. At least her voice would ring a bell but there's absolutely no frivolous memories with this girl and he kind of likes it that way.

If she doesn't know him, she doesn't know about Gyuri. That's a plus because there's no reason for her to be walking on eggshells around him like every other student at the university who finds him attractive.

There's another beat of silence between them both, music blasting outside and making the floor slightly thrum underneath him.

He's not usually this quiet. When he doesn't feel like crying, he's usually very annoyingly outspoken. Mind glowing in red alert, he practically stumbles his words out to fix that.

“I like your costume.”

“You do? People didn't get it.”

“That's because they care more about Captain America than Wanda Maximoff,” he scoffs. “It’s the Multiverse of Madness one, hm?”

“Wandavision post-credit scene,” she whispers back and Wooyoung nods, encouraging her to go on even if she can't see him. He thinks she's about to maybe rant about the show or the character or the party or anything that can help him forget, but she does the opposite “I, uhm… Also like your costume.”

There's a tint of shyness in her voice, like she's not used to being nice.

“Victor, right?”

“I've never seen the movie.” He makes sure to clarify before she asks him about it.

“You don't really have to see the movie to know the character, Wooyoung,” he feels when her head hits the wall slightly, on purpose maybe “I don't like him anyway.”

“Then why did you say you liked my costume?”

“I lied. It's called trying to keep the conversation going,” her explanation makes no sense to him in that state of inebriation, but he lets it go “I don't exactly know what to talk about when I drag someone into a closet.”

Wooyoung pauses and then laughs to himself “We were not exactly supposed to talk in the first place. Have you never done this before?”

“No. I don't usually go to frat parties,” she says after a second where Wooyoung was met with silence, a moment where he wondered if his question was out of line “Coming here tonight was a mistake.”

He finds himself asking without thinking, again “Then why did you?”

“I'm so bored.”

That takes him by surprise.

“Bored?”

“Yes, I'm bored. My dorm room mattress has a hole in it because I never go out and… Well, there's a boy I liked that came here tonight, so, I came as well.”

Liked?

Wooyoung doesn't really ask her about it.

Eyebrows practically touching his scalp, Wooyoung thinks for a split second she's talking about him but that's not really possible because they've never met until now, she said it herself.

“Well did you find him?”

She takes in a shaky breath and then lets it out. Sadness suddenly fills the constricted space and Wooyoung isn't sure if it's just him or if Scarlet Witch is going through a heartbreak as well.

“Yeah, I did” she whispers back and doesn't elaborate, so he doesn't ask “There's a bride going around the party. I saw her, she looks really cool, maybe you could—”

“She's my best friend,” he interrupts because the mention of Gyuri, so directly at that, has his heart racing with anxiety. So long for her not knowing about his ex girlfriend “We, uh… We dated in highschool and we stayed friends, so it's not really happening again.”

“Oh… Do you want it to happen again?”

“W-what?”

“I mean,” she laughs a little awkwardly, like she's nervous “You sounded very sad when you said it, a little angry too.”

“Did I?”

He definitely didn't mean to sound like that at all.

Scarlet Witch hums in agreement and he really thinks about what to answer. The short answer is a simple yes but, if he's being honest, he already knows that they're not good for each other. Not like that, anyway.

“I don't really know what to tell you.”

“You don't have to tell me anything,” she says right away and it calms his nerves a bit. “Just know that there's no real helping when you like someone, it doesn't matter if you thought you didn't like them anymore. It just happens. It sucks but it just happens.”

The unsolicited advice doesn't really help him, if he's being honest. It stirs something inside him that he wants to keep hidden, concealed, so he turns the topic of conversation away from him.

Away from Gyuri.

“Speaking from experience?” He asks, half jokingly.

“Yeah, so I can confidently say that it fucking sucks.”

She turns to him with a smile (he's hyper focused on her, there's no way he could've missed that) before laughing and a tiny force lifts up the corners of his lips. That's one pretty laugh.

Maybe, in an universe where was a little bit more sober, he could've actually spent these seven minutes kissing her.

Kissing her.

He wants to kiss her. That's going to take his mind off Gyuri, sure.

His heart beats quicker this time, for a completely different reason.

He leans in.

He's going to kiss her.

She clears her throat “Are you going to the party next saturday?”

Huh?

Oh.

“Yes, I think so,” he's a little breathless and probably blushing because of what he was about to do “Why?”

After the night he had, he thought he was going to struggle to even bring out this sort of excitement out of himself. When Scarlet Witch raises her gloved hand and brings it to the nape of his neck, he wonders if she actually has magical powers.

It effectively distracts him, it sobers him up and makes him feel drunker at the same time. Short nails caress the skin where her fingers lay and then she grasps the strands of hair sticking out, not gelled down for the sake of his costume.

“Is this real?”

What does she mean? This feeling taking over his body? The heat that spreads all around? He's not sure if it is, if that's what she's asking.

Hia mouth feels like cotton when he asks “Is what real?”

She laughs softly again “The hair, the length.”

Oh.

“Yes, it is.”

Maybe he should've taken his time in answering because, as soon as he does, her touch leaves him.

“You should go as Howl,” she murmurs and he melts a little “It'll suit you better than a Tim Burton character, I think.”

He laughs, it's short lived and through the cloud he feels he's on right now “You think?”

“Yeah,” he can't see her, but he knows she's nodding “Even if you claim that you're not a frat bro. You know, the whole seducing ladies and stuff.”

Wooyoung laughs “Howl did not seduce any ladies, it was all a rumor!”

“He did, in the book.”

“Oh, I don't read.”

“See?” she clicks her tongue and then her shoulder touches his, teasingly “Total frat bro.”

Wooyoung thinks about it again.

Kissing her. Now out of pure want instead of selfish motivations.

She said she didn't want to, earlier, if he recalls correctly and that's okay.

He still wants to though, so…

The question is on the tip of his tongue, he even thinks he makes out the start of it before it's cut off by the sound of the door opening.

Closing his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light, it takes a few seconds for them to adjust to it and, when they do, he finally sees her face.

He should've kissed her.

The costume she's wearing it's cool, sure, and she's even wearing a wig that looks very expensive so he confirms the fact that she likes to dress up sometimes but that's not really what amazes him.

Maybe it's because he sort of already formed a judgment of her character but she's beautiful and he really, really, really, should've kissed her.

“Time's up, you're hogging the closet. Oh, and someone is looking for you,” the girl dressed up as Zuko points in his direction and then, because neither of them makes an effort to stand up, she nods and steps aside “I'll give y'all a minute.”

Scarlet Witch laughs and Wooyoung wishes he could share the sentiment. At this point, he thought he would be done with a makeout session and in desperate need for another drink to keep the night going.

Now, he wants nothing but take her hand in his and find a quiet spot where he can keep getting to know her. Maybe get her number.

And he swears he's going to ask, but the universe is not in his favor. When she turns to him, he loses all ability to speak and when she leans in to peck his cheek his breath hitches and he feels like a teenager getting a crush for the first time.

“In case you need to tell anyone I kissed you,” she whispers in secrecy, leaning back a bit “So you don't have to lie. I hate liars.”

He gulps “Noted.”

She doesn't even give him the opportunity to escort her out of tiny space: she gets up, bolts for the door and when Wooyoung's brain catches on to the gigantic problem of his own creation, as he gets out of the closet and looks around for her, she's already out of his sight.

“Are you good?”

It's the second time tonight San has asked that. It's not annoying by any means but when it comes with the concerned faces of Yeosang, Kyungmi and Gyuri he has to think his response through.

But the Scarlet Witch's words echo in his mind.

I don't like liars.

“No, I'm not,” he says, a little out of breath “I didn't get her name.”

This time, the entire crew joins him, Gyuri, Kyungmi and Yeosang to go to the party.

He wishes his other best friend came along as well, but she's really not that fond of parties in general.

Which sucks because she would look good in a costume and maybe that would prompt San to act on his feelings and break up with Kyungmi in the process.

She was a pain in his ass tonight. Didn't really help his nerves at all.

Yes, he's nervous about possibly seeing Scarlet Witch again.

Yes, he thought about her all week and tried his best to find her on social media but couldn't.

Yes, he's aware tonight's theme for the party is a mix of a masquerade and a normal costume party or whatever the sorority organizing it said in their invite.

And yes, he's dressed up as Howl Pendragon, wearing a black and white mask that he borrowed from one of the girls in the group. They decorated it with little gold and pink stars and it looks cute on him but that's not the point!

Masks complicate his quest for the night.

He hopes that she's here tonight. He also hopes that the costume alone is enough for her to recognize him: There's a lot of people here tonight.

Even waiting in line to pay the cover fee for the party felt stuffy.

He turns to Gyuri and she's laughing at something her date for the night is telling her. That's right, for the first time in many, many years, Wooyoung is not her date.

Superman is. He's dressed in the same costume he saw him in last weekend, he thinks he even sees as smudge of Gyuri’s corpse bride body paint on it.

She's Wonder Woman for the night. So original.

Wooyoung feels bad as soon as the bitter thoughts go through his head. He didn't even know they exchanged numbers, let alone kept chatting to coordinate their costumes for tonight's party.

He found out when she told her that the Raven and Beast Boy costumes would have to wait until next year.

And he, actually, was relieved that he didn't have to paint his face green for God knows how many hours just to keep losing his date in the crowd and finding her kissing someone else.

Ugh.

Bitter. He's as bitter and jealous as someone who has to see the love of his life not give a damn about them or their feelings can be.

But that's okay, he has other plans for the night anyway.

As soon as they all get through security (there's security at a house party, what the hell), they all scatter to do what they do best at parties.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa head for the drink table, Yeosang and Jongho head for a corner of the main room, San, Kyungmi, Gyuri and Superman go straight to the backyard and Mingi, his girlfriend and Yunho walk with him to the dancefloor.

He dances with his friends, he pretends he's paying attention to their banter as his eyes scan the crowd looking for someone familiar behind a mask.

He thinks he remembers her face very well, it stayed on his mind for a whole week but, even after dreaming about their conversation, Wooyoung is having a hard time in finding her.

She didn't even tell him what she was going to dress up as or if she was even going to show up.

Or did she?

His memories are all blended together. He's going to make sure to be sober tonight, just for the sake of remembering every little detail if he does end up finding her.

But the hours go by and he still can't find her.

He's losing hope, he's beginning to believe she didn't even show up to the event which, hey, sucks but that means that he can finally get her out of her head.

Sort of.

There's a Scarlet Witch staring at him. But there's this alluring nature to his Scarlet Witch that can't be replicated, or so he thinks.

He's about to convince himself he drunk dreamed the entire thing but then he sees him.

The obnoxious motherfucker. Her classmate, mister can't-take-no-for-an-answer.

In all honesty, the first thought that crosses his mind is to punch him in the face. He's still dressed up all frat bro-ish and his mask is a paper mask, completely diy-ed and with a dick drawn on the right side.

And then he abandons the thought because, although an asshole, he can lead go finding his Scarlet Witch.

Only issue is: Mister asshole is walking away with a girl on his arm and heading straight to a… room? bathroom?

Stopping his movements, mid a Troye Sivan song and cutting Yunho off in whatever he's telling him, he let's out a loud “Fuck!”

Yunho stops, Mingi and his girlfriend turn slowly to them with wide eyes and concerned expressions

“What did you do to him?” Mingi asks Yunho and his best friend laughs nervously.

“I didn't do anything! Did I do something?” he turns to Wooyoung “I didn't, did I?”

“No, no. Sorry, I… I gotta go.”

“Go where, Serena Van der Woodsen?”

Wooyoung doesn't get the reference Mingi’s girlfriend makes but he laughs like he does “I'll be right back!”

He's never been so determined before, moving through the crowd like his life depends on it and crashing into Batman and his Joker on the way to stop the guy who's potentially changing the course of his night.

“Hey!” He yells behind him but the music is somehow louder on this side of the house and five people turn their heads, but not the guy pushing a Silent Hill nurse into the bathroom door to kiss her before opening it.

Damn it.

He runs faster and faster and he thinks he's going to miss his chance when the tip of his boot catches the door before it fully closes on his face.

Breathing hard, his lips turn up in smirk when he catches the way the guy's face scrunches in confusion before opening the door again and looking at him.

Wooyoung takes it a step further and gets into the bathroom with them, closing the door behind him and lifting up his mask.

“What the fuck, Wooyoung?”

“Hey, so sorry for interrupting your fifth makeout sesh for the night but I need to ask you something. Hi.” He says to the nurse and she smiles a little before turning to the Frat Bro and raising her eyebrow inquisitively.

“And it couldn't wait?!”

“No,” he says right away, smiling sardonically and getting straight to the point afterwards. “So, remember the Scarlet Witch that I ended up going to the closet with last week?”

“Who?”

Wooyoung is going to kill him.

“The girl who threw a drink on you last week for trying to kiss her even if she said no the first time you tried,” he reminds him, “Is she here?”

“Y/N?” the name comes out in a whisper and Wooyoung sucks in a sharp breath.

Y/N.

It fits her.

“Your classmate, yes.”

“Uhm, yeah, I think she's here,” he looks a little embarrassed at the recalling of the events of last week and Wooyoung wants to smile because of it, but he just looks at him with an insistent look so he can catch that he needs more than that to find her. To find you “Look, bro, I don't know where she is right now. I think she's dressed as a… Clown? A jester? Some weird, indie costume, uhm… She has a pointy black birthday hat? I don't know.”

He's slurring his words but that's not enough for Wooyoung to feel bad for him. He, however, does not want to speak with him anymore.

“Alright, thank you for that, I'll… Leave you to it,” he opens the door again and frat idiot scoffs, so he turns and looks directly at the Silent Hill Nurse “Please make him wear a condom.” And he can tell she's a little turned off with the whole conversation.

So, as he closes the bathroom door and scans the crowd one more hopeful time, he counts that as a second victory. A little revenge on your name, even.

He wanders the house, the hallways and rooms and little hideaway spots but he finds no sign of you in them so he heads for the backyard and looks up to the second floor.

The first room is presumably empty, lights turned off and no activity in it the few seconds he observes it.

The second room has an ambiance light turned on and he sees what looks like a Mad Hatter run across the window and then he hears something crashing, so he hopes that's not where you are.

The third room has a balcony. It's dark, there's not one light lit in the entire room but there's neon lights in the backyard and streetlights and the moon casting perfectly on it, so he's able to see it perfectly from where he stands.

And there, draped in some sort of vintage looking clown costume, wearing striped tights and a black and white pointy hat, mask in your hand and your forearms supporting your weight, you stare past him.

You look sad, but it could also be the illusion the makeup you put on gives.

He doesn't know you enough to know what your sad expression looks like and it bothers him a little.

You also don't notice him at all, which is odd, because you're staring directly over his shoulder. You only blink fast and focus on his face once someone calls out:

“Woo!” That's Gyuri's voice. Raising your head, you wave to him and smile a little. He smiles back.

He has to literally force himself to peel his eyes from you and look behind him, at his best friend “Are you okay? Come hang out with us!”

She looks so happy. A little drunk, but happy. San is also right beside her and he shoots him a knowing smirk that he ignores because he has to leave and speak to you.

“I'm a little busy, Yuri. I'll be down in just a sec,” that's a lie but she nods happily and so he turns to you, your smile a little bigger now “Don't move.” He warns cheekily in a whisper and you seem to get it, because you smile wide, raise your arms defensively and open your, once again, gloved hands in defeat.

He practically sprints to the second floor after that.

You hope Wooyoung didn't notice.

Staring daggers at the girl he told you last time is his best friend? Yeah, that could turn into a fight really fast if he reproaches it.

You don't remember her name but you do remember her kissing the guy you've liked since forever. She's been doing that all night tonight, too.

It pisses you off for all the wrong reasons. Sure, she's not exactly at fault, but the human mind is horrid when it comes to mental self flagellation and you, unfortunately, are an expert at that.

All kinds of things went through your head. The main one, a question: Why do you feel so possessive over something that clearly isn't yours?

His heart.

His heart it's not yours, it never was, it never will be.

It's time you come to the realization that that's okay even if it hurts you. The obsession you have over it, over what happened with the two of you it's starting to get pathetic and it makes you feel lonelier than usual.

You really hope Wooyoung didn't notice.

As you walk to the door and unlock the room you claimed for the night (because you want to leave, but the cover was expensive and there's no way you're letting it go to waste) you let yourself detach from the emotions you've been feeling all night.

Wooyoung doesn't need to know what's going on in your head. You have a good memory of him, you even filtered a little last weekend and you want to keep that going.

He doesn't need to know, he doesn't need to stay in your life for too long either.

It makes you giggle when he opens the door and scans the moonlit room of this sorority house like he doesn't really believe you were there in the first place. He smiles wide when his eyes land on you, back against the wall closest to the door.

“Hey.” You say, biting down a smile.

His chest is heaving, like he ran all the way up here and it does nothing but send nervous tingles down your spine.

He smiles beautifully, entering the room and closing the door behind him “Hi.”

Peeling your back from the wall, you start walking around the room because that keeps your body busy and unable to embarrass you.

“Thought I missed you completely tonight, Y/N.”

Frowning, you give him a glance over your shoulder “You know my name.” You say, rather than ask.

“You didn't want me to?”

Shaking your head, there's a tiny smile that curves your lips when you turn to him. He's walking around as well, slowly, carefully, like you're about to disappear if he moves too fast.

“I don't really enjoy mysteries that much.”

He smiles as well “You didn't tell me your name last time.”

“You didn't ask me,” shrugging, you take a few steps his way and scan his costume without any discretion “You see?”

“Hm?”

“How good you look as Howl?” tilting your head slightly, you don't miss the way his cheeks darken slightly and that makes the remains of your shyness disappear from your body. You tell yourself that you, in this room, there must be no space for it. You point at his cape “Was it hard to get this?”

“Overnight shipping,” he whispers, taking a step in your direction “You look very cute.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I really like the, uhm…” he gestures to your costume “Vintage vibe.”

You don't have to be a genius to notice he doesn't really know what you are. “I'm a pierrot clown.”

He scoffs “I knew that.”

“Sure you did, buddy.”

There's a pause and then you both laugh but it dies down quickly and there's this tension between you both you don't really know why it's there.

You two didn't exactly connect that much last time. At least, you don't think you did. He was kind of drunk and you weren't really thinking straight either.

“Y/N…” Your name sounds good out of his lips.

“Yes?”

“Why did you disappear last time?”

That makes you laugh again. You didn't exactly plan on it, you were going to wait for him outside the closet but then you saw them kissing goodbye and your heart couldn't really stand it, so you bolted.

You walk towards one of the two beds, sitting down on it carefully, to not disturb it too much. He follows you with his eyes, his head turning slightly in order to do so.

“You mean when I left the party? I didn't disappear on you,” that's not really a lie, you convince yourself. You kind of bid your goodbye to him that night “Didn’t think you wanted me to stay, either. Did they give you too much shit?”

“For what?”

“I clearly didn't kiss you that night. I think it was obvious, so… Your frat bros didn't give you shit for it?”

Closing his eyes, the smile he gives you in return for the inside joke you two have going on makes your heart flutter “Stop insisting on that, will you?”

“You can't really fight the truth, Wooyoung.”

“Hm,” he walks over to you again, sitting on the bed next with his thigh touching yours. Innecesarlly so, because there's plenty of space, but you enjoy the warmth it spreads around your body so you don't say anything “You did tell me you didn't like liars.”

“Oh, you remember that?”

“I remember everything,” he nods, “I wasn't that drunk.”

You give him a look “Weren't you?”

He laughs again and you follow, pushing him slightly with your shoulder like you did back in the closet as well.

You don't really know what to say anymore, so you clear your throat slightly.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

“Are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seemed kind of sad when I saw you, there,” he points at the balcony and that makes you sigh. He noticed, kind of. That's disappointing and impressive at the same time. “I thought it was the makeup but it doesn't really seem like it.”

“I’m not sad,” you admit, “I'm hurt.”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

“Not really, no,” shaking your head, you stare out of the big panel windows into the night sky. He doesn't need to know entirely, but you can tell him something about it “Remember the guy I told you about last time?”

“The guy you went to the party for?”

You nod “Well, he's here tonight too. With a date this time.”

“Oh,” when you turn, catch him licking his lips before continuing and your eyes are fixed on the motion for a second too long “And that hurts you, duh, obviously.”

You think it's adorable he's also a little nervous but you only smile and don't give him shit for it like you would do to anyone else “When you're obsessed with the idea of someone specifically seeing you a certain way, yes, it hurts,” you shrug “I'll get over it though.”

“I feel that,” he says and you can imagine. You sensed it in his feelings last time, you can't actually believe the coincidence and irony of it all “Did you and this guy…?”

“We went to highschool together. He was the only person who I thought saw me for who I was, whoever that is,” there's a bitterness in the laugh you let out you don't enjoy “We kissed a few times, he told me pretty things and I feel. Totally forgot about me when he had a summer glow up before we started our first semester, though.”

“Well, he's an asshole.”

“He's not, not really,” and you desperately need to change the topic to him, so you bump your shoulder against him one more time “Did you come with your Sophie?” you ask, pretending to not know about Wonder Woman and the fact that she's here with somebody else.

He catches who you're talking about, though and shakes his head, giving you. tight smile.

“No, no, uhm… She has a date.”

You hum “Are you hurt too?”

“I'm bitter,” he whispers back, right away “Don't know if that's the same as being hurt, but I'm bitter.”

Silence falls comfortably around the understanding in between you both. You stare at each other, lips slowly curving upwards until you end up laughing yet again at the absurdity of the situations you're both in.

“Guess we're just… A pair of losers tonight, huh?”

“And what a pair we make.”

You agree. There's this electricity running through you, you even dare to say it's running through him too and it makes you slightly regret not kissing him last week.

If you did, the desire to do so right now would be easier to come to terms with.

Thankfully, the same thing seems to be going through his mind “I know I was drunk, but I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

“Are you drunk now?” You ask back in a whisper. He shakes his head.

“Don't want to ruin your pretty makeup. Besides, you said last time—”

You lean into his space a bit.

“That was then,” you interrupt with a tiny smile “And now is now.”

“That's how time usually works, yes,” he laughs and you join, rolling your eyes at the bad joke. You can see the second he makes the decision, his hand hesitantly finding your cheek and, when you don't recoil at the possible contact, he leaves it there “But are you sure it's okay?”

You know why he's asking. He doesn't want to take advantage of a vulnerable moment, neither do you.

But you want to kiss him.

“It’s matte,” you say instead and you hope he understands the real meaning behind your answer “The lipstick, it's matte. And the base It's set with really good powder, too, because I thought…”

You thought that somebody else was going to kiss you tonight.

He gets it. He understands why you did it and he scoffs with mild annoyance at it, which makes you smile.

“Y/N,” he closes the distance between you even more and your breath hitches with anticipation before he whispers: “I'm going to kiss you so good, you'll forget about his lips forever.”

That's the best thing someone has ever said to you, ever. You shudder at the thought and just stare, eyes dropping when he leans in further and his nose bumps into yours.

“Do you want that?”

Sleeping with Wooyoung won’t fix your problems. It sure won’t, not yours, not his but it doesn’t need to. You don’t know what the remedy for a wounded heart is but a distraction from the hurt can’t be all that bad.

It's still a little bit pathetic how you whimper in response to his question.

But it gains you the prize of tasting him for the first time, his minty flavor mixing with the remnants of whatever soda you had earlier and you sigh into the encounter. He’s not as delicate as you thought he would be.

Wooyoung kisses you hard, with want, with need, with something you recognize in yourself and give back: the need for a distraction, for a feeling other than that hurt and bitterness you two mentioned not even three minutes ago.

You don't know what to do with your hands, where to put them, but he fixes that. He grabs them, puts them on his shoulder, scoots a bit more into you and so your chest touches his and he sighs in contentment at that.

You feel a little bit nervous, but that’s okay.

It’s not like you’ve never been touched, like you’ve never done this sort of thing but it is the first time you want it. You want him.

You’re not numb this time around, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when his other hand joins and keeps you in place, pulling back a second to take in some air before going back in for another toe curling kiss.

Mind disconnecting from the outside world, you curse the layers of clothing (and there’s a lot) in between you when his hands travel down to your waist, against your body, caressing it and then grasping it in a way you’ve never felt before.

It’s not rushed and it doesn’t really feel like something that you both want to get out of your system even though it is. You don’t really expect Wooyoung to ask you on a date after hooking up at a sorority party, after all.

Oh.

The party, that’s right. Did you lock the door? No, no. He walked in and didn't, you think.

You can’t really think straight when he’s biting your bottom lip and then licking it as an apology for his misbehaving. It draws a breathy moan out of you and he drinks it, tongue meeting yours for the first time ever as you stand up from the bed, kiss never breaking, his body following yours.

You’re wearing a lace ruffle white collar that goes with your costume. It’s cute, surprisingly not itchy at all and right now it seems to be getting in his way. His fingers look for the velcro clasp and then, when he loosens it enough, he janks it off.

Somehow, you enjoy the theatrics and you giggle as his mouth abandons yours.

“Woo…” You manage to say when his lips start to make acquaintance with your neck, over your pulse. Craning your head to the side, he moves to the skin that unveils because of it and it’s hard to think of anything but the way you start to tremble under his touch.

Grounding yourself by sinking your fingers in his hair, you attempt to speak again but he keeps distracting you.

“Fuck, say that again.”

Humming, you return “Woo,” you say again, “the door…”

He moves to the other side of your neck “What about it?”

“It’s— Oh,” teeth sink into your skin and you moan out loud, you can practically feel his smirk on your skin after that and your face burns as a consequence. “W-we need to lock it.”

“Afraid someone will walk in on us?” he finally pulls away enough for you to see his face. His lips are swollen and there’s a flush across his cheeks that sits beautifully there when he smiles, forehead resting against yours a second later “You don’t like that thought?”

There’s a part of you that doesn’t think it’s proper. It’s bad enough you’re hooking up with a somewhat stranger in a room that isn’t yours, but people finding out? That should terrify you.

But it doesn’t. He seems to read it on your delayed response and the way your eyes widen with need when he pulls away again to watch your reaction to what he said.

“You do, don’t you?” and then you’re moving, backwards, backwards, backwards until your back hits the door and there’s this passion glistening in his eye that excites you and sends spikes down your spine and into your core “You want people to know I’m kissing you dumb, hm? You want them to see what I’m doing to you?”

He pauses and you feel like it’s on purpose, you feel like he takes in you heaving chest and the way your eyes follow the veins down his arms when he presses his hand behind you, pushing into your space a bit more and you should feel overwhelmed like you normally do with everyone else, but you don’t.

You want him to get even closer.

“You want them to see what you do to me?”

His whisper shakes you, awakens something in you that you desperately want to explore. It makes you feel shy and brave at the same time and the contradiction makes you bite down a smile.

There’s no need for you to see what you’re doing to him, you can feel it when the hand that wanders to his waist pulls him closer, forward, until his hips meet yours and his leg finds a home between yours. Grunting, he raises a brow and gives you a knowing grin, but you enjoy surprising people.

Your black gloves contrast against his skin and the white of his shirt when you caress the arm planted next to you and he follows the motion, letting out a breath “What if I don’t?” you ask, low, like it’s a secret you don’t want anyone else to find out even if you’re alone in this room “What if I want to keep you all to myself?” Watching his expression carefully, you try to measure if you’re crossing the invisible hookup line with your words but he closes his eyes and there’s no way for you to tell, so you correct your possible mistake in a whisper “For the night. You don’t want me to be only yours tonight?”

Something twitches against your leg and the brief tension melts from your shoulder. Damn, you’re not that mouthy during these sort of scenarios so you almost, almost fucked up, huh?

It doesn’t really matter when his free hand brushes his knuckles against your stomach, over your clothes and the ridiculously big buttons of your costume and then leaves you to twist the lock on the door “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, by the way.”

“I want you.” The words get out before you think it through and you don’t mind it. You value honesty, you love when your body acts before your mind has the time to make you feel ashamed of your own feelings and wants.

It pays off because his expression morphs in pure want and his tone is a whimper when he begs you, forehead meeting yours again “Again.”

“I want you, Woo…” You whisper against his lips and then his mouth is on yours hungrier than ever before. The wood hurts against your back but Wooyoung’s hands pull you against him to move you away from it.

This time, your hands know exactly what to do, because you know exactly what you want. They tug at his cape, trying to find the clasp of it with desperate trembles because your heart is beating faster and faster and you’re impatient, body too impertinent and rebelling against your wishes of taking this slow and savoring every little touch.

Cape on the floor, you feel his hand trying to figure out your costume. It makes you laugh and you’re glad he returns it, looking down at it and frowning at all the fabric he finds. With your hands against his chest, you push him into the mattress and he lands gracefully on it, supporting himself with his arms “I’ll do it.”

“Baby, this is a great costume and you look so fucking cute on it but why is there so much layering?”

The nickname is new and he doesn’t seem to catch that it slipped out of his mouth so you don’t comment on it but it sure deepens the color on your cheeks and you laugh shyly, tilting your head to side in a playful manner.

“I told you I like dressing up.”

“And it shows! Mine’s a little simple,” without the cape, he just looks like a dude with a loose white shirt and black trousers. A handsome dude, but just a dude nevertheless “But I wanted you to find me, so…”

“What was the first option?”

“Beast Boy.”

There’s something that crosses his expression that goes away the second he sees you slowly working the buttons and the skin underneath reveal after each one. His eyes fix on it and you’re sure you look ridiculous in the makeup and the get up and all but he’s looking at you with so much need you feel sexy wearing it.

The shirt comes off. You’re wearing a cropped top and a bra underneath and you hook your thumbs under it to make him believe you’re taking it off, but you don’t.

“You’re killing me.” He groans out and you laugh at him, making a show of bringing your hands down your torso and into your hips. You move to take off the striped bloomers that are matching with the tights you plan on taking off next.

Your underwear doesn’t exactly match but you weren’t really planning on any of this with anyone. You weren’t planning on going this far but you don’t really care when it’s all, eventually, it’s just going to be off, so it doesn’t really matter.

“Want to take these off yourself or you’re going to make me do all the work?”

Smiling, he sits straight on the bed, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth he nips the satin fabric of your glove, it loosening around your index when he pulls. He must see the way it affects you immediately, the way you breath catches, because the corner of his lips lifts up before he does the same to the thumb, the middle finger, the ring and the pinky and then he pulls the glove completely off.

You feel like you short circuit for a second, even more so when he keeps the hand close to him and starts kissing the pad of your fingers so softly it doesn’t match the hunger in his eyes at all.

And you’re killing him?

It happens in a flash but the other glove is off and then your tights, your top and his shirt are off and on the floor and you’re sitting on his lap, tongue parting his lips and mouth bruising against his and you feel like you’re in a small pocket in time no one can really disturb. No one can burst this bubble, this cloud you land on when he turns you around and the expensive material of the sheets touches your bare back.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

When did he take off your bra? It doesn’t matter, his lips are making their way down your throat and exploring your chest, gaining puffs of air and moans from you when he flicks your nipples with his tongue, expert and careful, measuring your reaction and doing it again when your back arches off the bed instead of verbally asking for more.

He kisses down, down until his teeth are catching your underwear. Looking up to you, he searches for an answer in your eyes and you both come to an unspoken agreement. Even if you’re both taking your time in exploring each other, there’s no actual time for him to eat you out, for you to get on your knees and taste him as well.

You immediately wonder if there’s going to be another opportunity to do all of that. Either way, there’s not enough time to wonder. You help him get out of his trousers, his boxer briefs and you stare at him with an eyebrow up and an open and watering mouth.

He laughs at your reaction, like he was expecting it.

He stops laughing when you reach for him. Breathing hard when your thumb teases his tip, gathering precum, he shakes his head and you immediately stop “Baby, we… Not tonight.”

Then when? You want to ask.

You just nod before bringing the thumb to your mouth, tasting him and humming in content. Wooyoung leans in and puts his tongue on yours a second later.

He smiles, teeth sinking on your bottom lip before diving in for another kiss “Dirty girl.” He teases you and you shrug.

“You look so good,” You say against him, pecking his lips, “Couldn’t help myself,” fingers grasping the hairs at the nape of his neck, like you did the night you met, you stop him from kissing you again just to whisper “You taste so good too.”

His eyes almost roll at that, hips stuttering against you and almost brushing where they need to. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that to me, Y/N.”

“Sorry.” You say but it’s clear in your smile that you’re not sorry at all and maybe you shouldn’t have because when it comes to taking your last piece of clothing off, he takes his time.

Fingernails raise goosebumps as they softly go through your skin and he lets out a ragged breath “So fucking beautiful.”

You feel beautiful. That’s good, because earlier tonight, before you catched him staring up at you on the balcony, you felt undesirable. You felt little, small, incomparable in the worst way possible because… Why not you?

His words reassure you. Even if you know that’s something you need to do yourself (built enough confidence to not let the choices of a man who doesn’t give a damn about you define your self worth), it helps you tend that wound that reopened.

He touches you and you feel worth it again. You believe it when your panties fall to the ground and your legs part for him and he looks at you in delight, thumb finding your clit and circling it right away “So fucking wet, fuck.”

Your hips go up when he finds the right pacing, the right pressure to it and you really shouldn't moan this loud but you don’t care when he lets out a moan of his own at the way your face scrunches in pleasure “I want you.” You let out, breathy and pliant under his touch.

“You got me,” he’s sweating but you don’t really care, you love the way his pretty nose touches yours when he leans in, index searching and then entering you. “Fuck, I could slip right in, hm? Is that what you want?”

A moan slips out when he finds your sweet spot and strokes it carefully, he takes it as a reply and, honestly, it is all you can let out at the moment. You squeeze the second finger as it enters you, so it gives away how much you like the thought of that.

“You do,” he says, teasingly and smiles against your lips as he pecks it “Dirty girl,” He repeats and you shake your head again, hips bucking up when the heel of his hand press against your clit and it sends a new wave of heat across your entire body “Impatient girl. I wish you were in my room now, fuck.”

You wish that too.

“Woo…”

“I had to—”

“I know but there’s people—” Passing the door, you can sense it. In this midst of anything, you can sense it.

“Who cares about them—”

There’s a phone vibrating somewhere in the room and it’s definitely not yours. He ignores it, fingers picking up their pace.

“I need you,” you whisper, propping yourself up to kiss his mouth “Please, please fuck me.”

“I want you to come first.” He communicates his crude intention so cutely you might actually miss him when this is all over.

“And I want to come with you.”

That stops him and you can literally feel him get harder where he rests against your inner thigh.

“Condom?” You ask in a whisper.

“Condom, right, fuck—” Both moving to reach his pants on the floor, you giggle and his lips find your cheek for a second as your torsos hang from the bed and you can safely say you never had more fun during sex before this.

It’s lighthearted even if you’re both practically strangers and then it grows hot, sexy, passionate again when he finds the condom, breaks the package open and then rolls it on with practiced moves. He kisses you, laying back down against the pillows and aligning himself with your entrance.

“Wait, let me just…”

“What?”

You turn around, laying flat on your chest and arching your back just a little so that you can open up your legs for him to enter. You look at him over your shoulder and his surprised expression makes you giggle “You never tried this one?” you ask and at his silence, you nod “Look how easy it is for me to—” Reaching down your stomach and reaching your clit with your fingers for him to see, you circle it a few times and close your eyes at the sensation.

He kisses the small of your back “Holy fuck, Y//N.”

“I told you that I’m coming with you, I’m helping.”

He leans into you, his tip pressing against your clit deliciously “You’re so fucking hot, I almost came.”

“That’s the point, Woo.” You say through pants, his hands kneading your ass and spreading you open for him to see. It’s a little nasty and you wonder what you both could do with a little more time and less people waiting for you outside. For him, at least.

When he enters you, the moan that leaves you echoes his and you probably needed just a little bit more prep for the size of him but since you’re so turned on it barely matters when he’s completely seated inside of you and this position just makes it feel ten times better “You feel so good, baby, fuck.”

“Yeah?” His chest is touching your back now and his lips are leaving open mouth kisses on your shoulder. He moves his hips experimentally and you moan into the sheets, sweat running down your neck and your chest into them but you don’t have time to feel bad for the owner of the bed at all “Was that okay?”

“You can go harder.”

“Yeah? Fuck.”

He complies right away and it feels so good you let yourself close your eyes and fully enjoy it, consequences be damned.

People outside the room hearing you moan? Who cares when your fingers the weight of Wooyoung against you feels so right?

When his thrusts help you grind your clit on your fingers just right, especially when he increases the speed of them and the wave of pleasure that hits you squeezes him around you so good his moan bounces off the walls and outside of the balcony where someone downstairs giggles and whistles.

“Oh, God,” he says, a little ashamed but never slowing down and you turn your head, searching for his lips “We should’ve closed that door too.”

You decide to tease him to wipe that emotion from him and just focus on you “Thought you wanted to give people a show.”

Opening your eyes, you are able to watch when his eyes harden slightly at the thought, pace faltering as he lets out a tiny whimper.

“And I thought you wanted me for yourself tonight,” he resumes his relentless pace, thrusting in and out of you with ease now and your cheek meets the sheets again so the bed can muffle your sounds “Maybe next time.”

Next time.

You don't really have time to dwell on what that means because you’re so worked up it won’t take much for you to come. You let Wooyoung know and he nods, his forehead against your shoulder again “Kiss me.” He whispers and you crane your neck to do so, to swallow his moans down and keep them with you forever.

You swallow all of them down when his hips stutter and he comes and you know he keeps yours when you let yourself come right alone with him. He fucks you through both of your orgasms and slows down gradually until he grows sensitive and hisses at any tiny movement and your arms go kind of numb underneath you.

There’s a sense of urgency your mind picks up immediately after but you ignore it. You have nowhere to go and they charged you twenty dollars to get into this stupid party so they can wait for you two to return to it.

But there’s a phone vibrating somewhere. And even if you both hear it, Wooyoung turns you around and leans in to give you a kiss so sweet you almost want to keep it with you as well.

When he pulls away, you wipe the sweat on his forehead with your hands and brush the hair out his face so delicately he closes his eyes and seems to enjoy your touch.

Now what the hell should you say at a moment like this? Where he doesn’t seem in any rush to leave you and you don’t really want him to leave either.

Do you tell him he did good? Do you tell him you enjoyed it, that he made you feel safe? That’s the first time in ages you enjoy a quick fuck this much?

That—

“Please give me your number.”

Oh, he’s actually adorable. He takes your stunned expression and silence the wrong way, though, and he sits on his knees, pulling out of you and working on getting his condom off while he speaks.

“I can give you at least ten reasons you should give me your number. Number one, I enjoyed this a lot and I can do better if you give me time, number two—”

“Woo, you literally just fucked me with clown makeup on. I think we’re past you giving me reasons to sleep with you,” you sit up as well, taking his face in your hands again and leaning in to kiss his cheek soundly “Give me your phone.”

He gets off the bed and looks around the room for the trash can. It’s a tiny one, sitting on top of a desk and you really, really start to feel bad for the girls who are going to have to sleep off their drunken night in this room. You’re surprised that no one knocked on the door but, on party eastern time, it’s still kind of early.

Two thirty am reads the clock on Wooyoung’s phone when he hands it to you, unblocked. There’s messages flowing in and you try your best to not read them as you enter your number and name into his contacts but you do notice they’re from a group chat.

You wonder if his friend group is big, if he’s close to all of them, what kind of friend he is. You’re impatient, you want to get to know him all of the sudden and you know it’s dangerous for expectations to grow after a hookup but, as you hand him his phone back, you can’t help but let out a “Woo, do you just want to fuck me or do you want to be my friend too? Something more?”

He’s reading the messages on the group chat with a frown when your questions register in his brain and he looks up, a curious expression and a tiny smile “You’re very direct, aren’t you?”

“I hate wondering and mysteries,” you shrug, “I don’t want to expect the wrong thing.”

“Fair,” he nods. “I’m more of a… Just wait and see what happens kind of guy, but if you want an honest answer I just don’t really know. I want to see you again, though.”

“I want to see you again, too,” You murmur back and he smiles, leaning in a fraction to try and kiss you again but then there’s a thud against the door and a soft ouch coming from behind it that interrupts you “We should really get out of here.”

It takes a millisecond for him to misinterpret what you meant, smirk growing on his lips when you shake your head disapprovingly and blushing while you pick your panties from the ground and get up to slip them on.

“Not what I meant!”

“I mean,” he starts to dress himself as well, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“No,” you say but you don’t sound so sure of it yourself and it makes him smile even wider, so you roll your eyes. “Where are my…”

“Here.” He hands you the tights and you thank him, almost falling while trying to put them on fast the next second. He laughs at you “Just sit down, babe.”

“Don’t laugh!”

“I’m literally not!”

You tease each other as you get in costume again. This time the fabric bothers you a little but only because you’re sticky and sweaty even if it’s the last day of october.

Fully clothed, you walk to the door and you suddenly feel very shy and nervous at what can await you behind it. Wooyoung seems to see it on your face, so he steps in your space and kisses your lips sweetly, holding your waist respectfully like he didn’t just make you come less than ten minutes ago.

“I’m so glad I met you,” he whispers against you and you melt even if you don’t want to. He doesn’t specify why and you don’t ask, but he does smile when you peck his lips one last time before stepping away “Do you want to step out together or do you want to go first, should I go first? We can meet downstairs,” he clarifies before you can think the worst and you giggle “We can leave together too, if you want.”

You know he means the party.

But his phone vibrates again, insistently shaking in his pocket and you rest your head against the door softly “I feel like you have people that need you right now.”

He takes the phone out of his pocket. The screen reads “yuri”, with a series of heart emojis and a middle finger emoji at the end and his expressions turn worrisome immediately.

“Shit, no, you’re right, um…”

Stepping away from the door, you grab the knob and open it for him “Do your thing, Woo.”

You think you know exactly who's calling him.

Like you already knew, sleeping with Wooyoung didn't fix yours problems at all:

It hurts that she's been chosen over you again, but you keep the soft smile on your lips either way.

“I'll text you. I'll call you, I—” he leans into you again, stealing a hard, parting kiss that you probably are going to think about until he keeps his promise “Hey, everything alright?” You faintly hear when he picks up the call.

When he leaves the room and closes the door behind him, you sag against the wood of it and let yourself meet the cold floor to try and plan out how you're getting out of there and how long it would take you to walk to your dorm room at this time.

But then your phone digs in your hand, screen lighting up the dark room and your face.

+82-8-918-2910: my friend got sick bc she drank too much. wish i could take you to your dorm. text me when you get there, yeah? x

It makes you smile. Despite it all, it makes you smile really hard.

+82-8-918-2910: it's wooyoung btw ;) +82-8-918-2910: send me pic of how you save meeeee +82-8-918-2910: okay my friend is puking in the pool and her date it's fucking useless i have to go text me back pls!! xx

When you catch yourself re-reading the texts on your home screen and grinning, this time like a complete fucking idiot, you know you'll have to start thinking of another recipe to mend yet another broken heart.

That's fine. At least you're not thinking about Superman anymore.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, don't be afraid to go to my inbox and leave your thoughts there, i love reading them!

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justauthoring · 10 days ago

Text

This is the Beginning [2/?]

Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.

A One Piece Live Action Rewrite

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

TW for this chapter: kuro, canon typical violence, kuro makes a comment about your eye, that's about it

Word Count: 11,044

A/N: This chapter was so fun to write and I'm even more excited for the next because... SANJIIIII!! Which of course means we get to see some jealous Zoroooooo

I hope to have chapter three out soon, but school is crazy as usual so be patient with me <3

Tag List: @emmaiscool22

Chapter Two - Acceptance

“Are you sure you don’t mind me borrowing some of your clothes, Nami?”

Glancing up from the Grand Line map she’d been studying, Nami just raises a brow down at you. “I’d rather you borrow my clothes then wear those atrocious clothes that clown had you in,” she shakes her head, almost shuddering at the memory. The sight pulls a small smile to your lips. “Seriously, he had no fashion sense.”

You let out a small laugh. “They were pretty ugly, weren’t they?” You grin up at her, and she pauses, as if shocked you were smiling so openly. You don’t mind. You realize you did look pretty miserable that time they’d set you free, extremely self-pitying too. You still had your self-doubts, of course, but Luffy’s excitement at you joining them was pretty reassuring and it was hard not to appreciate how freeing the whole experience had been.

There was still the whole issue that Luffy seemed to be the only one convinced that you were in fact a pirate crew. Nami and Zoro seemed insistent on denying that, repeatedly telling him they were not a crew when he’d tried explaining it to you. Nami said she was only with the two because she had a shared interest in the Grand Line map. When you asked Zoro, he’d just shrugged, saying he was seeing where it took him. You’d snickered silently to yourself at that, thinking to yourself that the both of them just weren’t ready to admit that they were in fact a part of Luffy’s crew and probably liked that fact.

But you’d let them lie about it for now.

As for you, you nodded at Luffy when he explained how the goal was to find the One Piece and for him to become the Pirate King. In response, you’d shrugged and said; “Sure, Captain. Sounds like a plan.”

His eyes had practically sparkled at that while Zoro and Nami instantly groaned in response, berating you for enticing Luffy. You’d only laughed, saying you didn’t mind calling him Captain and being in his crew because there was nowhere else for you to go.

You’d been a captive of Buggy’s for years. Forced to be a part of his crew and do his bidding day in and day out. There really was nowhere else for you to go or call home. You’d suffered scars and injuries that would never leave, both mentally and physically. But Luffy, Zoro and Nami seemed to think nothing of your doubts, especially your eye. Despite his initial assurance, you felt extra assured by the fact that you had your eyepatch back and no one was going to be forcing you to take it off to make a mockery of you again.

Those days were gone.

With a wistful sigh, you turn, moving to the edge of the boat and breathing in the air. You never enjoyed being on Buggy’s boat but that hadn’t been because you didn’t enjoy being out on sea, but rather because it had been Buggy’s boat in the first place.

You are unaware of Nami’s eyes following you until she lets out a rather undignified snort.

“More than ugly,” she rolls her eyes as you turn back to glance at her. “More like atrocious. We should burn them when we get the chance.”

You let out a chuckle. “You think? I’d sure like to get rid of the memory of them.”

Nami’s lips part to respond, but before she can, she’s cut off by Luffy;

“Nami! Y/N!”

Rolling her eyes, Nami shifts her attention in front of you as you spin around to face Luffy. “What?”

Grabbing the large sheet of fabric he’d been fiddling with for the past hour or so, he stretches it wide in front of him, blocking what you’re sure is a beaming smile, and calls out; “it’s ready!”

Lips parting, you tilt your head, trying to get a good look at the lopsided skull.

“And what is it?”

Lowering the fabric so his face pokes up over it, Luffy grins; “our Jolly Roger. Every pirate crew has to have one. And now we do!”

“We’re not a crew,” Nami huffs, “and you are not hanging that on my boat.” With that, she turns back to the map.

Luffy blinks at her.

Stepping forward, you smile gently at Luffy; “it’s a little lopsided too, no?”

Peeking over the top, Luffy raises a brow. “I think it’s perfect.”

You bite your lip, holding back your laugh just as the door squeaks open behind him. Glancing over Luffy’s shoulder, you meet Zoro’s gaze.

“Zoro!” Luffy wastes no time spinning to face his friend, “Zoro, check it out.”

Pausing in the door, Zoro lets his eyes drag across it for a moment before meeting Luffy’s gaze, expression never changing.

“That’s unique.”

“It’s kind of cute in a way.” You offer, feeling a bit bad for Luffy who clearly had worked hard on it. “It has its own charm.”

Zoro just rolls his eyes at you. “It’s definitely not going to scare any other pirates.”

Turning back to Luffy’s jolly roger, he turns to you expectantly. As you let your eyes drift across it again, you have to admit, it’s more adorable than frightening. With a grimace, you offer him a pitying smile.

“Nami,” Zoro calls, leaning against the edge of the boat. “I think the toilet’s busted.”

Peering at him behind her glasses, Nami blinks, “we don’t have a toilet.”

There’s a pause, before Zoro offers a short; “oh.” Turning back towards the door, he shrugs. “Well, then something back there’s leaking.”

“What?”

Not hesitating a second more, she hops off the boxes she’d been sitting on, storming past the three of you and slamming the door shut behind her.

Luffy waits one second before he says; “where should I hang it?”

“Uh, Luffy,” you call, “I don’t think Nami will…”

He ignores you, eyes snapping round to find the best place.

“It’s best to let him do what he wants,” Zoro calls from behind you, your head turning round to glance at him. He’s crossed his arms over his chest again, leaning nonchalantly back. “And not get involved.”

“Is that what you do?” You ask, raising a brow. “Choose not to get involved?”

Zoro just stares at you. “Not if I don’t have to,” he answers, as if that’s the obvious answer.

Something told you that wasn’t the whole truth.

Before you can respond, however, Nami comes back out.

“We’re taking in water. What did you do?” She accuses Zoro.

Zoro leans towards her; “I didn’t do anything.”

Eyes flickering between the both of them, feeling the tension rising, your stomach twists uncomfortably.

“Guys, maybe we should—”

“The way you’re clanging those swords around, you must’ve broken something,” she scoffs.

Zoro snorts. “If you’re such a good thief, maybe you should’ve stolen a better boat.”

“Guys, guys, guys,” Luffy calls, successfully cutting their argument off. You let out a breath of relief at that, grateful they at least chose to listen to Luffy. “Okay, crew meeting.”

On cue, both of them huff; “not a crew!”

You offer a nervous smile.

Unphased as usual, Luffy turns to the three of you. “We're gonna need a better ship to make it to the Grand Line. A real pirate ship.” Then, pausing for dramatic effect, he smirks; “worthy of the Straw Hat crew.”

“Wait,” Nami calls, “Straw Hat crew? Really?”

“Yeah,” Luffy nods, “I thought it had a nice ring to it.”

“‘Demon’ has a nice ring to it,” Zoro scoffs. “Headgear? Not scary.”

“Well,” you speak up, meeting Zoro’s eyes before turning to Luffy. “I like it. It’s unique.”

Nami rolls her eyes, “do you have to keep encouraging him?” She asks you.

You shrug, smiling.

Luffy beams at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” He turns to Zoro, “and who says pirates have to be scary?”

At that, both of them give pause.

“I definitely don’t want to be scary,” you mumble, more to yourself than anyone.

“The point is we need a new ship.” Luffy backtracks, “so where do we get one?”

Grabbing her maps, Nami sighs. “Our closest bet is the Gecko Islands. We can probably make it there before our ship sinks. Ditch this one and get a better one.”

“Good,” Zoro drawls, “with a working toilet.”

Nami glares at him but Luffy just grins; “great job, navigator.” He turns back to grab his jolly roger.

“You’re still not hanging that on my ship,” Nami reminds.

After Luffy and Nami’s disagreement of stealing a ship and the former running off to somehow convince a salesman to just give him a ship, you’re left wandering around with Nami and Zoro.

You weren’t a big fan of stealing a ship either, but you knew realistically that Nami was right. None of you had enough to berry to be able to buy a ship legally and Nami’s old ship was no longer an option.

Trailing behind Nami and next to Zoro, you let your eyes drag across the hustle and bustle of the shipyard, unable to fight the smile that curls on your lips as you watch people flutter around, completely in their own worlds. It’s such a simple thing and yet, you can seem to pull your eyes off of the bustling crowds completely engrossed in their worlds.

“Never been to a shipyard before?”

It takes you a second to realize Zoro is talking to you. With a blink and parted lips, you turn to him, meeting his eyes. It’s clear he’d been watching you, dark and intense eyes already on you and the realization pulls a light flush to your cheeks.

“I’ve been,” you answer, nodding. Eyeing Nami out of the corner of your eye and watching as she carefully glances around, entirely for a different reason than you had been. She’s in her own world, promptly and probably pointedly ignoring the both of you.

Focusing back on Zoro, you lick your lips. “It’s just…” But you trail off, unsure.

“What?” Zoro asks, blunt as usual.

The look on his face tells you he’s waiting to hear what you were going to say.

“Different,” you shrug, moving to hug your arm as you curl in on yourself. It’s clear you’re not as open as you were trying to pretend you were since joining Luffy’s crew. While the three of them were definitely nothing like Buggy, it was hard to deny that Zoro was intimidating. You’d only been with them for a short amount of time, but Luffy was easy to get along with. He did most of the talking anyways and his energy was infectious.

Nami you’d been unsure of at first too, and while she sometimes seemed closed off, she was easy to hold a conversation with. Sometimes short or cold, you still found her approachable.

Zoro, for some reason, made you nervous. You couldn’t rightly explain it. Every time you met his eye or tried to talk to him, you’d clam up with nerves and find yourself stumbling more than you usually did. Honestly, you made yourself look like a fool more times than not with him. His gaze was heavy, and the second it landed on you, it was like he was trying to unearth all your secrets.

“Different how?” He asks, pressing.

You lick your lips. “It’s… different seeing all these people without having to fear that Buggy might snap and kill them all.” Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in his eased stride and the way he always keeps at least one hand on his swords, you glance out towards the sea of boats. “He enjoyed making people's lives miserable.”

There’s a beat of silence before; “yours especially, it seems.”

You turn to him in shock, eyes widening at him. He’s no longer looking at you, head turned straight, but the expression on his face says it all.

“I guess,” you mumble, hugging your arm tighter.

Silence envelopes the both of you, all whilst Nami continues to lead to way completely oblivious to the tension that has surrounded the two of you. You’re careful to not glance Zoro’s way, even though you desperately want to.

Your mind races with wonder of what exactly he meant.

Luckily, you don’t have to stew in your thoughts for too long. A few minutes later the three of you hear the distinctive and familiar voice of Luffy, and with one glance at each other, you’re picking up the pace.

When you find Luffy, he’s standing at the front of a ship, grinning ear to ear.

“There you are,” Nami calls.

“Guys!” Luffy cheers, moving to make his way down to the three of you. “I found it,” he declares. “I found our ship.”

Turning your attention to said ship, you silently muse to yourself it’s not a bad choice. Luffy seemed to make rash decisions but he always followed his gut and you can’t say that this ship was a result of a bad decision. It was a decent size, not too big that it’d be unmanageable with four crew members but not small like the previous one. It had a certain charm to it as well.

“And this guy will sell it to us!”

You turn in the direction of Luffy’s gesture, noticing the man slumped over the edge of the ship that you hadn’t realized before.

Standing up, he turns to make his way down to Luffy as well, eyes wide as he stammers; “uh, w-wait, what…?”

“Yeah!” Luffy nods, oblivious. “The ship, we’ll take it.”

The man winces; “technically, she’s not for sale.”

“Huh?”

“And technically,” he continues, “I’m not a salesman.”

“Do you even work here?”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay,” you nod, smiling warmly. “What do you do then?”

He meets your eyes, “I’m Chief Technician in charge of encrustation removal and aviary waste eradication.”

Luffy’s face twists; “encru what?”

Zoro huffs next to you. “He scrubs barnacles and cleans bird shit.”

“He can’t help us,” Nami adds.

The two of them turn to leave.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” The boy frantically calls, shaking his hands at you. “I can help you. The owner of this ship just happens to be my closest friend in the world.”

Nami seems unconvinced. “Your friend owns this ship?”

“Not just this one,” he grins. “She owns the whole shipyard. She’s rich rich.”

Luffy gasps; “oh!”

“I’m sure you could strike a deal with her.”

So it turns out Usopp, you learned his name was, was not lying about his friend owning the whole shipyard. It did, however, seem he was lying about how invited he truly was in his friends house—mansion.

Kaya herself didn’t seem to have any issue with Usopp, but her butler had a stick up his ass about him and that included the four of you.

If it hadn’t been for Kaya insistence that it was her birthday, you’re sure all five of you would’ve been promptly kicked off her estate and back to square one. Somehow, that didn’t happen and now you’d found yourselves invited to dinner.

Currently, you were eyeing the room you’d been given for the night with a sheen of excitement. You’d never been in a house, let alone a room this nice before. It was a major upgrade compared to the small, dingy tent Buggy had let you stay in. The bed itself was almost the entire size of what your tent had been.

It’s astonishing enough to you that you lose track of time. After spending far too long just exploring the room—because it was big enough to explore—you went to have a shower. It had been far too long since you’d been given the opportunity to bathe yourself, and you definitely weren’t about to pass it up.

You definitely spent far too long showering, letting the water soak into your skin and taking your time scrubbing the filth off your body.

By the time you’re finished, the bathroom is thoroughly fogged and you’re feeling refreshed.

It’s only then you remember you still have to find something to wear. Klahadore, the butler, had made it clear the clothes you all were wearing were not nearly good enough to eat dinner in—whatever that meant.

Leaving your room, you pause in the hall, glancing both ways as you try to remember what direction Klahadore had told you the clothes were in. He’d been rather gruff about it, barely able to hide the contempt in his gaze and you’d been too busy trying to ignore the discomfort to really listen to what he’d been saying.

You’re left wandering for about ten minutes before you see Nami slipping out of a room.

“I’m so happy to see you,” you breathe, grabbing her arm as she turns to you. She seems slightly unsure of your touch but she doesn’t pull away. “I’m sure I would’ve been lost for hours before I found my way. You look amazing, by the way.”

She really did. The red piece she had on was truly beautiful and it looked stunning on her.

Snorting faintly, she smiles softly. “Thanks,” she nods. “There’s a ton of outfits to choose from in there. The boys are in there too, but be careful, they’re hopeless.”

You let out a chuckle, “they weren’t any help?”

“Those two?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure neither of them even know what a compliment is.”

Biting your lip, you pull back, letting her go. “Well, I’m gonna give it my best. Hopefully I can find something.”

Perhaps sensing a bit of nerves from you, Nami hesitates before leaving. “You’ll look good in anything, I’m sure.” She reassures, offering a gentle smile. “There’s lots of options and we might not get the chance to dress up like this again. Go crazy.”

You’re instantly eased by her words and sending her a warm smile and a nod, you turn towards the door, letting her head back to her room.

You’re instantly greeted by both Zoro and Luffy the second you slip inside, the two boys turning to face you as you smile at them gently in greeting.

“Woah,” you breathe, letting your eyes flicker across the room. “That is a lot of clothes.” You hadn’t thought Nami was lying, you just hadn’t expected this much.

Zoro snorts as Luffy nods; “right? What would a person even need with it all?”

You let out a laugh, letting your hands drag across a rack of them, not even sure where to begin.

“Well, I’m gonna go with this,” Luffy calls and you turn back to him, eyeing the waistcoat he’s holding in his hands. You pause when you realize he’s only holding a waistcoat.

“Uh, Luffy—”

“See ya!”

He’s out the door in the next second, leaving you gaping in the direction he’d gone.

A moment later, you turn to Zoro; “he’s aware you’re typically supposed to wear a shirt under a waistcoat, right?”

Zoro shrugs, chuckling. “Probably not.”

You let out a laugh in response before turning back to the clothes, suddenly realizing you’re alone with Zoro. You’re still unsure about the conversation the two of you had had back at the shipyard so it’s hard to ignore the slight uncertainty you feel at being in the room alone with him.

That and the fact that he makes you nervous in general.

“Did you, um,” swallowing thickly, you meet his eyes. “Did you find something to wear?”

He holds up the shirt that had been on his lap. It’s a dark bronze button up, with what looks like silk material. It’s beautiful, and you can’t help the thought that pops into your head that it’ll look extra beautiful on him. “Nami found something.”

“Ah,” you nod, “it’s a nice shirt.” You smile at him, before pausing by the folding screen at the back end of the room. “I guess I should hurry and find something, huh? I took too long showering,” you chuckle nervously to yourself. “It felt so good, I couldn’t convince myself to get out.”

Laugh fading out, you swallow thickly when you realize Zoro is just staring at you.

“Did you need help finding something?” He asks after an agonizing moment of quiet.

You turn to him in surprise. “Huh?”

“A… dress or something,” he gestures loosely to the clothes, now looking slightly uncomfortable. “Did you need help finding something?”

You stare at him, stunned. You for a moment think you’ve imagined Zoro’s offer. Maybe you were still in your room, or maybe you were still stuck with Buggy and this was one big hallucination.

You choose to ignore why Zoro would be a part of your hallucination.

“I thought you didn’t like getting involved?” You offer him.

Zoro smirks, the edges of his lips tilting upwards. “Only when I don’t want to.”

It’s hard to fight the blush that spreads across your cheeks at his words or ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You’d be stupid to say you didn’t notice that Zoro was a rather… attractive man, but you’d pointedly ignored those thoughts in favour of focusing on more important things. But when he smirked at you like that and offered to help you… find something to wear, of all things, it was hard to ignore them.

Turning away so he can’t see your flush, you swallow thickly. “S-Sure,” you mumble, before shifting the conversation to save you some face. “But Nami warned me you and Luffy were practically hopeless.”

Zoro huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m certainly more helpful than that idiot.”

Grinning, you bite your lip, turning back to him.

Zoro frowns at your grin. “I know fashion.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t,” you laugh, holding your hands up in defence.

Scoffing, Zoro stands up, leaving the shirt Nami had picked for him over the arm of the chair as he crosses the distance of the room over to you. You freeze as he grows close, trying to ignore the race of your heart as he stops behind you, chest inches from your back, and reaches past you to grab a dress off one of the higher racks.

You watch as he pulls it down, trying to ignore the bulge of his bicep as he does.

The dress he picks is light beige in colour, floor length with one shoulder strap. The strap of the dress has an extra piece of fabric that billows out around it. It’s a simple silk material, but the hem of the dress is decorated in a darker, bronze lace trim.

It’s beautiful.

You’ve certainly never worn a dress so beautiful.

“Here,” Zoro calls, handing the dress to you. “This one. It’ll look nice with...” he gestures loosely to your eye, as if unsure how to say it.

You blink up at him, warmed at his words and how he hadn’t just chosen the dress at random like it seemed he had. Had he seen the dress when Nami had been looking and thought of you? That thought made your heart race.

“Try it on.”

Wordlessly, you take the dress from his hands, meeting his eyes one last time before turning to step behind the folding screen. You hear footsteps grow distant so you figure Zoro went back to the chair, and with only a second more of glancing at the beautiful dress, you move to slip off your clothes. Once you’ve slipped the dress on, it takes you a second or two to fully zip it up, unused to the movement.

The second it’s fully on, you glance down at yourself, letting your fingers run down the length of the dress, marveling at how soft the material is.

“You done?”

Jumping at Zoro’s voice, you cough faintly, swallowing thickly. “Y-Yeah.”

“Let me see.”

Blunt as usual, Zoro leaves no room for argument, so, with a nervous dip of your stomach, you force your legs to carry you out from behind the folding screen. You hesitate to meet his gaze, feeling nervous and unsure in a completely different way at the way Zoro’s eyes drag across your figure.

You’ve never worn a dress before, period. And certainly not one as pretty as this. Nami wasn’t lying when the clothes Buggy had made you wear were ridiculous. Corny and too colorful, Buggy had adorned you in clothes that made you look closer to a doll than an actual human being. It had been objectifying and humiliating.

And even though this was still a form of dressing up and even though you’re nervous, you can’t deny you feel beautiful.

Truly beautiful.

“What… What do you think?” You ask, finally meeting Zoro’s gaze as you tip your chin up.

There’s the briefest of seconds where his lips are left parted and an expression you’ve never seen washes over his eyes. Your stomach twists painfully, thinking that reaction was one of distaste, but before you can say anything, he’s coughing out a response;

“It’s… good.” The words seem forced, but not in a way that he’s lying but rather that he’s unsure of how they sound on his own lips. “You look… pretty.”

The blush returns. Ten-fold this time. Your whole body grows hot in response, nerves feeling like they’re on fire, as you stand there. You’re frozen still, for some reason scared to move.

“Oh,” you finally manage. “Thank you.”

He stands. It seems like an unconscious decision. “You’re welcome.”

Silence follows.

“You think this is the one?” You ask, before turning to the rest of the clothes. “Or should I—”

“No,” Zoro cuts in, sharp, before righting himself as he coughs, again, trying to play it off. “I mean, no, I think that’s a good choice.”

Believing it, you nod; “okay.”

Zoro glances at you, before glancing down. “I should get ready.”

“Oh,” you blink, “yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Standing there, opposite ends of the room, the two of you don’t move for a minute more. Then, Zoro finally turns.

“I’ll see you at dinner.”

“You too,” you whisper, watching his back disappear out the door.

You catch sight of the dress shirt Nami had found for him, and try not to let out a gasp when you realize the lace trimming of your dresses matches perfectly with his shirt.

Letting your eyes drift across the array of dinner food set out in front of you, you try not to let your obvious desire show. It was hard to deny how good everything smelled, though, and the want to just dig in and stuff your face like Luffy currently was was more than tempting.

But you wouldn’t let yourself look so silly. Not only was this a fancy dinner, you were wearing the nicest dress you ever had and surely ever will. You had no intention of soiling that opportunity by being anything less than ladylike.

Sat in between Zoro and Usopp, you tentatively glance around to see if anyone else has started grabbing food.

Luffy was the only one actively stuffing his face full. Usopp and Nami had grabbed food, but the latter was taking it much slower and Zoro…

Well, Zoro didn’t really seem interested in eating at all. He’d grabbed the bottle of wine on the table the second he’d seen it and after managing to chug through the entire bottle in a few mere minutes, he was already asking for another.

Deciding to just bite the bullet and ignoring the nerves of reaching for food, you grab a little bit of everything that catches your attention. There’s so much placed on the table you’ve no hope of ever being able to try it all, even though that’s what your heart desires. You settle for starting with what looks most appetizing and leaving the rest for if your stomach has the room for it.

Smiling to yourself, it takes you a moment before you realize there’s a set of eyes on you.

You instantly glance to your left, in the direction of Zoro, blinking when you find his eyes already on you. He has the glass of wine he’d poured for himself pressed against his lips, angled back to be able to watch you more easily.

He seems to freeze at being caught and you quickly divert your attention back to your now full plate before either of you can say anything. You’re hyper-aware of yourself in that moment, especially the dress you're wearing.

“I’d love to try the fish tonight.”

Looking up from your plate, you glance to the head of the table, watching as Kaya turns to the maid with a gentle smile and flutter of excitement.

“I’m sorry, Miss Kaya,” Klahadore cuts in before the maid can respond, stepping towards the girl. “But that is not possible.”

Kaya’s face falls. “Maybe just a small piece?”

“Now,” Klahadore sighs, as if exasperated by her simple request. “You know that certain foods can affect your constitution. Here, Buchi has prepared your special soup.”

At his invitation, Buchi steps forward, taking the bowl off his tray and setting it in front of Kaya.

You almost immediately blanch at the sight.

Whatever that was, it didn’t look anything like soup.

“Kaya,” Nami calls, “it’s your birthday. You should be able to eat what you want.”

You instantly nod. “And certainly something more special than… that.”

“Miss Kaya’s medical condition necessitates that I closely monitor her dietary needs,” Klahadore explains.

You meet Nami’s gaze from across the table.

“Does it mean you also speak for her?” Nami challenges, glaring at the man.

Blinking, Klahadore tilts his head, the action oddly threatening.

“I’ll take her fish!”

Leave it to Luffy to miss the entire point of the conversation.

Pressing a hand to your forehead, you shake your head.

“Luffy,” Usopp says, and you silently thank him for diverting the tension. “Isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to Kaya about?”

“Oh, yes!” Luffy exclaims, pointing at Usopp in recognition. He turns to Kaya, grinning. “Usopp told me you own the whole shipyard.”

“Well, actually my parents founded the shipyard, and Merry’s been running the business since…” Her voice trails off momentarily, eyes falling to her lap. “Well, since they passed.”

Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with the napkin on your lap.

“But all of that’s about to change,” Kaya continues, pulling your eyes back on her. “Tonight, at midnight, I will become the sole owner.” Her eyes naturally drift towards Usopp and the two share a soft smile between one another.

You grin at the interaction.

“Ah,” Luffy nods. “Well, that’s great, because we want to buy a ship from you.”

Kaya’s face eases in understanding. “I see. Usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.”

“Nope. Not sailors.” Raising his glass, Luffy smiles. “We’re pirates.”

You freeze at that, pointedly ignoring the way Usopp chokes on his own drink. Your gaze falls to Luffy, as if in doubt that he’d actually just said that. By the proud grin on his face, you’d say he in fact did.

Bringing his glass to his lips, you hear Zoro mumble under his breath; “this ought to be good.”

Kaya falters. “Pirates?”

Luffy nods; “yup! We haven’t sailed together for long, but we have already defeated an evil clown,” you shift at that, “raided a Marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe for a hand.”

Biting your lip, you sink into your chair, pressing a hand to your eye patch. Maybe you’d blend in with the chair and disappear from sight.

“These sound a lot like your adventures, Usopp,” Kaya turns to her friend.

Usopp lets out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.”

“Oh yeah!” Luffy cheers, and before you even realize it he’s standing to his feet, taking the glass in his hands and climbing up on the table. “And we’re just getting started.”

“Oh my God… Luffy!” You whisper, trying to meet his eyes so he’ll get down.

“What are you doing?” Klahadore bellows, astonished. “Get down from there at once!”

Luffy ignores you and the butler. “Being a pirate has been my dream for as long as I can remember. And I’m finally making it a reality.” Ever oblivious to the reactions of everyone else there, Luffy shifts to take a knee towards Kaya. “We’re heading out to the Grand Line, where even more adventures await us.” He moves to stand up straight again, making his way down the length of the table towards Kaya. “And at the end of the journey, I’m gonna find the ultimate treasure, the One Piece, and become King of the Pirates.”

Head tilting back to meet his gaze, Kaya’s lips part; “you’re… serious?”

Handing the glass he’d been holding to Klahadore, who accepts it with a barely concealed growl, Luffy crouches in front of Kaya, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Kaya, you have a beautiful ship out there. A caravel with a sheep figurehead. It spoke to me. That’s the ship we need to follow our dreams. I promise you, we’ll take care of it. Maintain it. Treat it like any other member of our crew, because a ship is also a home.”

Silence follows, no one says anything for the briefest of seconds. You focus your attention on your lap, fiddling with your fingers, wishing Luffy would get down from the table.

But before Kaya or really anyone could say anything, Klahadore’s voice booms;

“That will be quite enough! I should’ve known Usopp would bring riffraff to our doorstep.”

Kaya shakes her head; “Klahadore, it’s okay. I—” A violent cough pulls from her lips. It starts to wrack her body, cutting off what she’d been about to say as she hunches in on herself in response.

You sit up, leaning towards her. “Are you okay?” You ask, not sure if you should get up and help.

Klahadore steps forward before you can, pointedly glaring at you before shifting his gaze to Luffy. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve upset Miss Kaya. All of you, out of this house at once!”

“No,” Kaya rasps. “It’s late. Let them stay the night.”

After the disaster that was dinner, you’d elected to stay in your room for the night.

You’re almost positive that the rest of your friends wouldn’t be able to rest or stay still for that matter. Even though you’d only been with them for a short while, it was easy to tell that an opportunity like this wouldn’t allow any of them to simply stay in for the night and sleep. Luffy was probably looking for more food, given that dinner had been cut short. Nami was definitely exploring the mansion, whilst grabbing whatever shiny trinket caught her attention. And Zoro? He was probably looking for more booze. You’ve very quickly come to learn that the man enjoyed his alcohol, and needed it in most instances.

You, however, were exhausted. A lot of things in your life had so rapidly changed and being out on sea, cramped in a small ship hadn’t left you a lot of opportunities to rest. The bed you’d been given for the night seemed far too tempting to ignore, especially knowing you probably wouldn’t get a chance like this one again.

So, changing out of the dress you’d borrowed from Kaya, feeling slightly disappointed you hadn’t gotten the chance to wear it for longer, you changed back into the clothes you’d borrowed from Nami and lay down on the bed.

You instantly sink into the cushion that is your mattress for tonight, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you feel your tense muscle instantly ease.

However, you learn quickly it isn’t so easy to fall asleep. Even on a large and soft bed, you were now struggling with the actual act of falling asleep. You couldn’t completely relax. For a multitude of reasons. Even though you were free of him, you’d only escaped Buggy a short while ago. The scars of what he’d done to you were still heavily prevalent and you doubted they’d go away anytime soon. Every time you close your eyes, you can see those gleaming eyes and hear his laugh echo in your mind.

You can feel the scars that cover your body from his abuse.

Beyond that, you can’t get rid of the uneasy feeling you felt about Klahadore. It was obvious the man was more than just a nasty butler. He’d been extremely controlling over Kaya all night, starting with not letting her eat anything other than that soup (which definitely wasn’t meant to be consumed) and the presence of Usopp and you and your friends seemed to particularly annoy him. It was obvious he was hiding something, you just weren’t sure what.

An hour or so must pass of you lost in your thoughts without getting any closer to actually falling asleep. You’re just about to give up in frustration, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes with a groan of frustration, when a large bang startles you. It’s instantly followed by a mechanical whirring noise. You jump up, gaze snapping around for the source of the noise. You frown when you realize the noise is coming from the large window in your room. There was a shutter coming down, blocking out the nightlight and effectively trapping any escape through it.

The lights in your room, despite having been turned off for you to sleep, were now flickering on and off.

Swallowing thickly, you crawl out of bed, moving towards the window. Your hands tentatively reach out for the window only to realize the shutter is on the other side of the glass pane. It was clearly intended to block people out, but also lock people inside.

“What the…”

Turning around, your eyes fall on your door, rushing towards it and letting out a soft breath of relief when you realize that it is still open.

The windows in the hall are no different than the one in your room. You also notice that the lights are flickering on and off in the whole house, making the large mansion seem entirely eerie in a different way.

Heart racing, your unease from before triples into terror as you begin moving down the hall. Your hope is to find one window or door that isn’t being barricaded, to try and escape. That doesn’t happen. Every window is blocked out by the metal shutters. Someone was putting the house on lockdown.

You fear you already know who that someone was.

Picking up the speed of your step, you turn down the hallway, glancing back the way you’d come in fear there was someone following you. Only, that causes you to crash right into another body. You let out a startled scream, fighting the hands that fall on your shoulders, thinking you’ve run into Klahadore himself.

“Y/N! Y/N, it’s me!”

Blinking, you turn, focusing your gaze in front of you and easing when you seem a familiar head of orange hair.

“Nami,” you breathe, relieved. Reaching for her, you grab her arms. “I’m so happy to see you. Where’s Zoro? Luffy? Do you know what’s going on? Why is the house in lockdown?”

She just shakes her head at you, eyes flipping around, seeming rushed. “I can’t answer all those questions right now,” she huffs, shuffling back as she tugs you along, fingers wrapping around your wrist. “There’s no time. Kaya’s in danger!”

She turns to race back down the way you’d just come from. You let her pull you, rushing to match her pace as you shake your head in confusion.

“Kaya’s in danger?” You echo, “Nami, what’s happening?”

Glancing at you over her shoulder, never slowing her pace, Nami frowns. “It’s the butler, Klahadore. Him and that maid and chef are going to kill Kaya! They’re pirates and they want the shipyard! They’ve been poisoning Kaya this entire time…”

Eyes widening, you quicken your pace so you’re next to her rather than beyond. Briefly, Nami glances at you once more, and you just nod at her. You’re shocked and you’re dying to ask more questions; like how she knows or where the rest of your friends are. But you know time is of the essence right now and you don’t need to know all those to believe her. “Lead the way,” you assure. “You know where Kaya’s room is?”

Blinking at you, Nami only pauses for a second. “Y-Yeah,” she answers. “It’s just down the hall.”

A few minutes later the both of you are stopping in front of a set of double doors. You let Nami take the lead, chancing a nervous glance behind you in fear that Klahadore will come around the corner any second. It takes Nami a few seconds before she manages to get the door open, and the second she does, you both rush in.

Her shoulders ease when she sees Kaya, Usopp behind her. “Thank God you’re alive.”

Kaya hovers by the table she’d been sitting at, frowning.

“Why wouldn’t we be alive?”

“Poison?” Kaya echos, breathless. “What are you talking about?”

Shuffling near the door, you glance between it and Kaya and Nami.

“I overheard them in the kitchen,” Nami explains. “It’s been going on for years.”

Kaya hesitates, fiddling her hands in front of her as she glances over at Usopp. “Did Usopp put you up to this?”

“I didn’t even know,” Usopp instantly denies. He doesn’t look angered by Kaya’s accusation, if anything, he looks more upset than she does. His face is distraught, eyes flickering across the tea set Kaya has on the table. “I gave you that tea.”

“Think about it, Kaya. When did you start getting sick? Was it around the time Kuro started working here?”

By the expression on her face, the answer is obvious.

“Listen to me,” Nami urges, grabbing her hands and pulling her focus back on her. “If we stay here, we die. We have to leave now.”

“Easier said than done,” you breathe. “Everything is locked down. And if Klaha—Kuro is after you, he’s probably already on his way here.” Shaking your head, you turn to look at them. “Where are we gonna go?”

Meeting your eyes, Kaya lets out a shaky breath.

You freeze when Kaya starts coughing, your entire body tensing.

Almost instantly, five blades slice through the wall of the mansion, missing Kaya and Usopp by an inch as the two of them fly back. You stumble back in response, trying to make room in the narrow servants corridors. But then, Kuro is pulling his blades back before slicing them back in in a different spot, this time right by Nami.

Just as Usopp turns to rush forward, Kuro’s blades stop him.

“It’s your birthday,” Kuro growls from the other side of the wall. “It’s time to celebrate.”

He slices his blades through again, this time both, one of each side of Kaya, the ones on her left nicking her on her arm.

Heart falling at the small cry that leaves her lips and processing just how dire of a situation you’re all in, the thought that pops up in your mind seems like the best option. You say it before you even realize what you’re saying. “Go,” you hiss, quietly enough that Kuro can’t hear you but the three of them can. Their eyes instantly fall on you. “I’ll distract him.”

Eyes widening, Nami shakes her head. “What? Y/N, no!” She turns to face you.

You jump as he sends his blades through once again, this time narrowly missing you, Nami stumbling back in response to avoid them as well.

“We’ve no choice,” you argue, “he’s going to kill Kaya!”

“Y/N—”

You don’t let Usopp finish, ignoring the look in Nami’s eyes as you step back.

“Stay here until I’m gone,” you whisper, meeting each of their gazes before nodding.

Then, with one last breath in, you pick up your pace, deliberating making your footsteps loud as to entice Kuro. You force a cough from your throat, hoping the barrier of the wall muffles the fact that your voice sounds different from Kaya's. As you run, you hear footsteps following you, and the distinctive voice of Kuro laughing;

“Come on then, Kaya! Don’t keep me waiting!”

With no plan in mind, you continue running, going back the way you’d just come and hope that Kuro continues to fall for the bait. You hope he’ll just assume Kaya got scared and went running back to her room.

Breathless, you continue to make your footsteps loud, forcing a cough every now and then, trying to buy as much time for Kaya and the others as you can.

Making your way back to the entrance you’d gone through in Kaya’s room, your eye flickers across her entire room, trying to find something to help yourself. You couldn’t fight to start with, but something was better than standing there helplessly. Grabbing one of the chairs around her tea table, you make your way towards the door. You definitely didn’t want to be trapped in her room with Kuro.

The second you step out of the room, you see Kuro in the hall, a few feet away from you.

You freeze and his eyes widen when he realizes it’s you and not Kaya. For a second, you both just stand there, waiting, and you watch as anger blazes in his eyes, mouth setting into a thin line. You fear he’ll go back in the direction of Kaya and the rest, so, stepping forward, you take the chair you’d grab and throw it at him. It doesn’t even reach him, crashing into the ground before his feet as his eyes lower to eye it, before falling back on you.

Then, you run. You turn to the right, racing down the hall opposite of him, making yourself move as fast as you possibly can. Maybe you could find Zoro, he’d know what to do. Nami had explained Luffy had been poisoned, but maybe if you could find him, you’d at least be able to help him. He’d defeated Buggy after all, so maybe he’d…. Shaking your head from that though, you remind yourself he’d been poisoned. Finding him would probably only put him in more danger.

Maybe you could find the switch that was keeping this place in lockdown. If you flipped it back, that’d help Kaya and the rest and give you an opportunity to escape.

You turn down a series of hallways all whilst hearing the thunderous steps of Kuro behind you. You’re happy he’s following you and taking the bait, but now that you’ve done it, you’re not exactly sure what your plan is. He curses at you, threatening he’ll do worse to you if you don’t stop. The threats make your heart race and your throat clam up with fear.

You never stop running though.

At least, until there’s nowhere else to run. As you make a turn, you realize you’ve made your way to the main foyer.

Your eyes instantly fall on the maid and chef.

Their eyes instantly zone in on you, gleaming with interest and smiling as your eyes widen at the sight of them.

“Fuck,” you breathe.

Just then, Kuro catches up to you, stopping right behind you.

You’re thoroughly trapped, pinned on either side by Kuro and his crew, and the only exit was currently locked down.

“Got nowhere to run now, have you?” Kuro laughs, voice thick with desire to kill. You inhale sharply, stumbling back as he steps towards you. As you make your way down the small set of stairs, you’re quickly reminded of Kuro’s crew as you hear them laugh mockingly behind you. A quick glance behind you tells you they're right behind you, so you freeze in the spot.

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

Cornered, you try to look for an escape, but there isn’t one. You already didn’t have a hope of fighting off Kuro, and you definitely didn’t have a hope of fighting all three of them. Your only weapon had been that chair, which was now broken and hadn’t even hit Kuro.

“Annoying,” Kuro hisses, glaring down at you. “Playing the hero and leading me away from Kaya.”

Shoulders tensing, you stare up at him.

His hand swings out before you can dodge it, slicing across your face in a way that pulls a scream from your lips. It hits directly on your right cheek, slicing across the strap of your eyepatch and into your skin. Blood beads across the four slices as your eyepatch falls to the ground. You watch it hit the ground in despair, shredded by his blades. Biting back the sob that wants to fall from your lips, you clutch at your cheek, turning back to look at Kuro.

He grins at you. With your right eye now visible, there’s a particularly cruel gleam that floods his eyes. “Well, look at that.”

Embarrassment brews in your chest, wanting to turn your face away and hide. The sting of your cheek is painful, and you can’t help the tremble of your body. You’re all too easily reminded of your helplessness. You’d told Luffy you were a lousy fighter and when he’d brushed it off with no concern, that’d given you the hope that maybe it wasn’t so bad. You were naive to think having no fighting skills wouldn’t catch up to you when dealing with pirates and even more of a fool to think that your brave plan to help Nami, Usopp and Kaya wouldn’t end in your death.

You didn’t regret doing what you had. You hope that by leading Kuro away, they’d already found an escape route. But you didn’t want to die either. You’d just escaped from Buggy too, and now you were going to die at the hands of another sick pirate crew.

“Such a shame too,” he mocks, “you were so pretty.”

Biting your lip, you swallow thickly.

“Finish her off for me and we’ll hide her body with the green-haired swordsman after I’ve finished with Kaya.”

Your heart starts at the mention of Zoro, terror flooding you at the thought that he might be hurt, or worse, dead.

“Zoro?” You breathe, voice pitching. Turning to Kuro, you shake your head. “What did you do to him?”

Kuro snorts, “he’s dead. Along with your captain, and your friends, as well as Kaya, will follow suit soon.” He grins, ear to ear, as his crew laughs behind him. “Try not to worry then, dear. You’ll be reunited with them all soon enough.”

Kuro turns to leave then, not sparing you another glance, leaving his crew to kill you off for him.

“Y/N. Y/N!”

Feeling hands grab at you, your limp body is spun and pulled into a chest as you slowly blink open your eyes. Everything hurts, your entire body is stinging to the point that even the slightest movement has you crying out in pain.

“Y/N!”

You recognize that voice. Forcing your vision to clear in your left eye, you ease when you see a familiar head of green hair. The relief that floods you is immediate, allowing you to ignore your own discomfort.

“Zoro,” you rasp, voice cracking with strain. “You’re alive.”

Zoro frowns down at you. “What the hell happened?” Shifting, his left hand falls on your waist, pressing against the nasty cut you were currently bleeding out from. His eyes fall on the wound and he huffs. “Shit. You’re losing too much blood.”

Setting you gently back on the ground, Zoro leans back, grabbing the hem of his shirt and ripping a strip of it off. You watch him with your good eye, bleary and dazed, body limp in his grasp as he tugs you up, slipping the strip under you so he can tie it around your waist, applying pressure to your cut.

Using all your strength, you raise your arm, gripping onto his arm. “Kuro,” you gasp, voice pitching. “The butler, he—”

Zoro shakes his head. “I know, Y/N. Fuck, did you really try to fight him?”

You laugh at that, weakly. “I’m a lousy fighter.” When Zoro doesn’t laugh with you, you sigh, letting your head fall back. “He was after Kaya… I distracted him to give them time.”

Zoro just blinks down at you, stunned, taking in the cuts across your cheek, and the bleeding wound in your stomach, his chest flooding with rage.

“We need to get you out here,” Zoro says, moving to pick you up. “We need to get you help.”

You just shake your head, pushing against his arm. “Kaya, Usopp and Nami… They… They need help.”

“Luffy’s got it,” Zoro says, trying to grab you.

You push harder. “Those two—the ma-maid and chef… they’re still—”

“Here?” A new voice cuts in, both you and Zoro glancing towards the front door only to see both of them there. Despite their ridiculous get up, your heart races with fear.

Something shifts in Zoro’s gaze. It’s an expression you’ve never seen. His eyes darken as his lips straighten, and he’s gently pulling back from you, making sure you’re settled on the ground, as he stands, pulling out the two black handled katanas.

“Just hang on, Y/N,” he whispers down at you, meeting your eyes from above as you glance up at him. You’re surprised by the burning rage in his gaze and it’s not at all directed at you. “I’ll kill them and then we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

Too tired to realize how those words would’ve made you feel normally, you nod weakly, letting your head fall back, knowing that Zoro will keep his word.

Zoro had been deliberate about keeping the fight away from you.

Having tucked you into the corner, you could only really hear the sounds of his fight. You wanted to get up and help, but you knew even without your injuries, you wouldn’t be able to do anything. And as you hear the sounds of metal clanging against metal, you make a mental note to actually take those lessons from Zoro up. You were learning and had learned far too quickly that having not even a bit of self-defence skill was not possible if you were going to be on Luffy’s crew.

It takes Zoro an impressively little amount of time to defeat Kuro’s crew. You can hear the waning sounds of fighting as you force yourself to turn, ignoring the ache that burns through your entire body. Your left eye shows you he’s in the midst of tying the two up, both of them growling in frustration and fighting weakly in protest.

Unaware of the way Zoro’s gaze falls on you, you press your hand to the ground, using it as leverage to push yourself up to your feet. Your teeth grind against one another as you lift yourself up, managing to shift your feet underneath you before a sharp shoot of pain has you crying out. Instantly, your arm gives out beneath you, and you go crashing towards the ground.

Or, at least, you would’ve, had an arm not caught your fault.

“Are you crazy?” Zoro breathes, shaking his head at you as he shifts you in his grip. “You’ve lost too much blood for you to be trying to stand up.”

Letting your hand fall on his arm, you breathe in sharply. “We… I’m worried about Kaya, Usopp and Nami,” you rasp, voice cracking at the end. “I need to check on them.”

“I told you Luffy had it, damn it,” Zoro huffs, before he shuffles, setting his left hand on your back and the other moving to hold your hand. He helps pull you to your feet, going slow to not hurt you more as his eyes flicker from the wound in your stomach to your face. You're drenched in sweat and blood, but the expression on your face is determined. “Worry about yourself.”

He says it with an expression of frustration, but he lets you lean your entire weight against him and doesn't pull away.

Meeting his eyes, you frown. “I’m worried about Luffy too.” You breathe, “and not because I don’t have faith in him but—”

“Zoro! Y/N!”

Lips parting, you glance up, eyes falling on Luffy himself as he comes racing down the stairs to your right. Behind him is Nami and then Usopp and Kaya. The smile that had been on Luffy’s lips falters at the sight of you when he sees the blood on your shirt, hesitating by the bottom of the stairs. Something shifts in his gaze, a look of anger you’ve never seen on the boy before. But before you can ponder on it for much longer, Nami pushes past him.

“Oh, my God,” Nami calls, eyes wide. “Y/N.”

She reaches you in seconds, bending to get a better look at the wound in your stomach.

You glance at her, then at Luffy, before your eyes drift past him to Usopp and Kaya. Everyone looks at you in a similar way, eyes drowning in concern.

“I’m okay,” you assure, trying to ease their worry. “It’s just a scratch.”

“She’s lying,” Zoro grunts, never letting go of you. “She needs medical attention.”

Nami shakes her head. “She probably needs stitches,” she breathes, voice pitching in panic as she pulls back your tattered shirt, getting a closer look at the wound. Turning to Zoro, she meets his gaze. “I know a little bit but not for something like this.”

“I can help,” Kaya calls out, weakly stepping away from Usopp’s arm as she smiles at you. “I know a little about stitching and cleaning a wound. Plus, it’s the least I can do. Leading Kuro away like that… I can’t ever thank you enough, Y/N.”

Smiling faintly, you brush her off; “you don’t need to thank me. You’re my friend, I wanted to help.”

Kaya looks at you astonished, but before she can respond, Nami is turning to her. “We better be quick,” she urges, looking concerned for you but also antsy. “The marines already know where we are. The longer we stay, the closer they get to catching up to us.”

Kaya nods, instantly moving towards her, just as Luffy speaks up;

“Where are we gonna go?” He asks, seemingly snapping out of his revere as he glances at his friends. “We don’t even have a ship.”

Pausing by you, Kaya turns to him; “yes,” she smiles. “You do.”

“Honestly, the both of you, I’m fine.”

Glancing at each other, Nami and Zoro make it clear they don’t believe you.

Sat in between them, you huff, touching the now stitched and bandaged wound on your stomach before letting your fingers drift across your cheek. After Kaya had stitched you up and given you something for the pain, you’d all headed out immediately. The ship she’d given you was named the ‘Going Merry’ in honour of her late friend Merry and Usopp and Kaya had shared a rather sweet kiss before the former agreed to join you.

Now with a bigger ship and five members, it was starting to feel like you all were actually a pirate crew. You felt closer with all of them and sharing that fight together, even if all you’d managed to do is get hurt, felt like you’d all truly bonded.

That, however, seemed to have both Zoro and Nami acting like overbearing, worried mothers over you. You could barely take two steps without one of them telling you to rest.

“Seriously,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not a child. I can still do things for myself.”

“You have a cut that wraps around your entire waist, Y/N,” Nami reminds, curling a brow at you as she sets down the Grand Line map. “Not to mention your face.”

You gape at her, trying to find something to argue against and coming up blank, you turn your gaze to Zoro. He’s slouched back against the edge of the bench you’re all sitting at, head turned towards the window, but the expression on his face and his returning silence tells you he feels the same as Nami.

Seriously, for two distant and rather intimidating people, they sure were overprotective.

“I promise I’m fine. And the second I’m fully healed, I’ll be roping Zoro into giving me some fighting lessons so something like this never happens again.”

That pulls Zoro’s eyes on you. “I definitely will be teaching you some moves,” he assures. “For the next time you decide to sacrifice yourself.”

He glares at you but it doesn’t amount to much and you let out a small giggle at that, cheeks warming faintly. You miss the way his gaze softens the second you do, but Nami who’s sat across from him definitely doesn’t. Zoro promptly ignores her knowing smirk.

“I think it was badass!”

Sharply reminded of his presence, all three of your eyes fall on Luffy who’s sitting at the other side of the table.

“Though,” he pauses, a smile faltering on his face. “I would rather you didn’t get covered in blood next time we fight.”

You snort at that, sending him a reassuring smile. “No worries, Captain,” you send him a thumbs up. “I’ll make sure not to worry everyone again.”

Nami rolls her eyes and Zoro scoffs, but Luffy’s face stretches into a wide smile, nodding at you.

“A shame though,” he adds a moment later, almost as an after-thought. “I did think your eyepatch was cool.”

Shoulders tensing, you’re sharply reminded of the fact that because of Kuro, your eyepatch had been sliced to shreds. You’d asked Kaya if she’d be able to stitch it back together, but she’d only frowned and said it was ruined beyond repair. You knew you could just get a new eyepatch, but you didn’t know when you’d get the opportunity to do so. Let alone if you’d even have the money to buy one.

As a result, you’d been forced to depart from Gecko Islands without it and feeling entirely too seen and vulnerable with your eyes there for everyone to see. You’d been hiding behind it for as long as you can remember and you were desperately trying to ignore the fact that you couldn’t until now.

You knew Luffy meant nothing behind it, but you couldn’t help the way you instinctively curled into yourself in response.

“Cha,” Zoro calls out, clicking his tongue, “she doesn’t need it anyways. She looks badass enough without it.”

Lips parting, your stunned eyes fall on him. He’s pointedly not looking at you, eyes focused back on the window to his right, but you notice a faint flush across his cheeks.

Nami giggles quietly to herself. “Zoro’s right,” she agrees, smiling at you when you turn to look at her. “The eyepatch just hid your face and you shouldn’t be ashamed of the way you look.”

Lips still gaping, the warmth that floods through your chest is undeniable.

“Ah!” Luffy exclaims a second later, “you guys are right! Your eye is even more awesome than the eyepatch! Both of your eyes!”

A smile curls onto your lips, eyes falling to your lap as you let their words flood through you, basking in the kindness. No one has ever made you feel so… normal about your eye and the way it looks. Not just normal, but accepted.

In that moment, every cruel insult that has ever been thrown your way becomes immeasurable to the words your friends say to you then.

“Guys! Check it out!”

Swallowing thickly, the moment is interrupted as Usopp comes bounding into the room, a grin plastered on his face. “Using my unparalleled artistic talent, I made us a new Jolly Roger for the ship.” Grabbing Luffy by the arm, he pulls him up to his feet, making Luffy hold the Jolly Roger as he opens it to show you all.

It’s a skull, as expected, but… Usopp-ified.

“Ta-da!”

Usopp chuckles in excitement, still grinning from ear to ear, as you grimace. Luffy was not going to like that.

“I know. I know,” Usopp laughs, “my flair for design often leaves people speechless.”

Folding the Jolly Roger back up, Luffy hands it back to Usopp with a forced smile.

“I already drew our flag,” Luffy explains.

“Okay,” Usopp snorts, “but this one is so much better.”

Zoro just sighs from beside you. “Neither of the flags are gonna scare anyone away.”

“Okay,” Usopp drawls, wrapping his Jolly Roger around his shoulders. “But the Jolly Roger is supposed to reflect the captain.”

Luffy doesn’t hesitate; “I am the captain. We are the Straw Hat crew—”

“—They call me Captain Usopp.”

You bite your lip, watching as the two proceed to talk over one another.

Then, Nami laughs.

It gives everyone pause, turning to her as she lets her head fall in amusement, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Everyone follows suit after that.

Pressing your hand to your lips, your eyes crinkle in warmth and delight.

“You see?” Luffy grins, patting Usopp on the shoulders. “This is what it’s all about. From now on, it’s all gonna be smooth sailing.”

As if jinxing it, the sound of a cannon firing echoes right after his words. A second later, a thud hits the boat as the entire ship rocks, causing you to lose your balance and fall forward. You tilt, pain shooting through you as you agitate your wound.

Hands fall on you.

“You okay?” Zoro asks, eyes flickering across you.

You nod, “yeah.” You say slowly, breathless, as you glance around at the rest.

“What was that?” Usopp gasps.

Nami just sighs, moving to stand. “You had to open your mouth.”

Waiting for Zoro to stand, you follow after him, moving slower than the rest as they make their way up to the deck. Cannon continues to fire, some rocking the ship, until you all see the cause of the explosions.

“Marines!” Nami yells, “we’re under attack!”

Moving up the stairs, you nod gratefully at Zoro as he helps you up the final few steps, watching as Luffy takes the telescope to see who's attacking you.

Your eyes widen, however, when he calls out;

“Grandpa?!”

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece live action #opla #opla x reader #opla x you #opla zoro #opla zoro x reader #zoro roronoa #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa imagine #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x you #zoro x reader

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fawninthesnow · 2 months ago

Text

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞: 2 | Maternal! figure | Caracalla & Geta

Summary: You visit the young princes in the palace; While teaching, you tell them a folktale of a wolf and its two creations.

Warnings: Fluff, (slight) angst, english is not my first language, foreshadowing, spoilers

Work count: 1k

a/n: Keep in mind they are around 14-16 here and orphaned already. After looking through some deleted scenes from the script, I found that all the boys want is to be adopted and loved. This series is for that.

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

“Give it to me! I want to read it!” The boys tugged at the letter, snatching it back and forth between them. Finally, Geta managed to wrest it from his brother's grasp and held it high above his head. “You can barely read her writing. Let me read it to you!” Caracalla folded his arms and listened.

Hello, my loves. I’m writing to you from Germania. I miss you both more than words can express; my heart aches at the thought of you being alone in that palace. However, I take comfort in knowing that you have each other. I eagerly await the day when I can hold you both in my arms again. I’ve written two letters, so please, for my sake, stop arguing over who gets to keep the paper.

Caracalla took the envelope from the table; the boys sit beside each other, reading from the papers.

When I get back, we can get to your studies. Hopefully this time without much of a fight—Geta.

Caracalla nudged his brother.

If you are reading this, I should be on the coast of Corsica.

The two turned to each other, “That means she is only a day away, Calla!” His brother excitedly beamed, holding onto the letter in his hands with a careful yet tight hold.

Each moment feels like a journey around the sun without both of you. Please know that my love for you exceeds what I can express and what you can ever imagine. With all my love, Lady [Y/n].

The boys stayed awake that night, eager not to miss your arrival. Typically, it was Caracalla who would stay up late or rise before dawn to spend more time with you. However, since they hadn’t seen you since the holidays and with the new year already upon them, neither wanted to waste a moment away from you.

Geta held a small torch in his clutch, his brother’s hand in the other. “Calla, stay awake.” He sighed as his brother nodded off while standing. Geta led his brother to his room and tucked him in bed.

“Where are you going?” Caracalla asked as he regained some consciousness.

“I will stay with you.” He laid his head back onto the pillow.

You glanced into the bedroom when you heard their voices. The two were facing each other, unaware of your presence. As you stepped inside and smiled, Geta instantly stood up and rushed into your arms. “He is sleeping?” Geta nodded, his head buried in your clothes. “Are you tired?” He didn't need to agree; it was evident. You climbed into bed with Caracalla and carefully lifted Geta, bringing him in as well. In response to your scent, Caracalla turned toward you and wrapped his arm around your side. On your other side, Geta mirrored the gesture. You pulled the blanket over all three of you. “I love you both so much.”

***

“Grab it, Caracalla!” His brother yelled as he jumped back into the fountain. His brother continued to laugh, taking his time with the slithering creature. “Caracalla! I swear!”

The boy picked up the snake in his two hands and inches closer to his brother. “…oh, Geta?”

“I’ll tell! I’ll tell [Y/n]!”

“Tell me what?” You left the palace and joined them in the overgrown courtyard. Upon seeing the snake in Caracalla’s hands you frowned, your hands on your hips. He looked down at his feet and placed the snake back into the bushes. Geta ran to your side and held onto your clothes. “You know better.”

“I know.”

“You know your brother hates snakes too.”

“I know.” He repeated. You did not need to tell him to apologize. “I am sorry, Geta.”

“If I see another snake in your hands, you will go to your room.” The boy groaned, “Wait…why are you both out here? You should be inside with your studies.” The two brothers looked at each other.

Inside, you read from a scroll and the two boys took notes, “Beyond the oaks in Germania, Gray wolves are carnivorous and primarily hunt ungulates such as deer, wild boar, and even smaller mammals; ready to traverse for several miles. Do you recall the ways they communicate?”

“Howls, body language, and scent marking.” Caracalla said, rather doubtful of himself.

“That is true! Good job.” You cuffed his cheek. “Wolves have a special place in German literature; representing wilderness and the untamed spirit of nature.” You gaze fell on the two and cleared your throat. “Would you both like to hear a story?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, please.”

You took a few of Caracalla’s wooden toys; a wolf, two boys and two rather worn figures. “There once were two people…although they tried, they never could tame this wolf.”

“Hm? Why didn’t they just give it away?” Caracalla asked.

“Well, it is an animal that cannot be disposed of. Now, others would come to their home and would give the two all kinds of advice! ‘Just hit it, it will listen.’ ‘Let it be, it will listen.’ ‘Put it outside, it will listen.’ Nothing worked. The wolf would always come back…rowdy, violent and disobedient.”

“It is a wild creature! Why would they invite it into their home to begin with?” Geta asked and leaned forward, rather invested.

“Some things come inside without an invitation.” The two brothers looked at each other. You pushed the two figures away, leaving the two boys and the wolf. “And the two people…they had two children soon after, leaving the wolf with them.” The boys looked rather puzzled, sad---

“As the children grew, the wolf would linger around the home. Eventually, the children grew fond of it. They shared a bed, food. Soon, they built a home just for the wolf, visiting it every day.”

“They should kill the wolf.” Geta spat.

“That is a very big task, Geta.” You said softly, looking him in his brown eyes. “What do you think, Caracalla? What would you do?”

“I am not sure…I would treat it like a wild animal. I would never make a home for it.”

You squeezed their cheeks. “Alright. That is enough for today.”

Part 3

A/n: Wolf is in reference to the movie but does not mean the same thing. <3 After doing more research on the actual twin emperors of rome, I am now aware Caracalla is older yet loved his brother very much; I will be going off of their real stories instead of the movie! I love the movies dearly lol but I prioritize my writing.

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Must be following to be added to next taglist! I prioritize my followers <3

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flowerandblood · 6 months ago

Text

The Price of Pride (7/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mutual masturbation, targcets stuff, infidelity, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence, some kind of sexual harassment (unwanted touch), death threats, bad things ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Waiting for the arrival of his betrothed in the courtyard of the Red Keep, forced to do the deed by his mother, he thought, staring blankly ahead, that he longed to be anywhere else.

In his bed, in the Small Council chamber, on the back of Vhagar flying through the skies.

Even the vision of an evening spent with his cousin in the library teaching her the language of Old Valyria did not sound as awful as the prospect of what he would now have to do.

He was not good at pretending or lying – false flirting, sweet gestures and gifts to win the heart of a beloved woman were not his domain and aroused his pity. Conversing about nothing or romantic walks were also not what he wanted or needed.

He should be planning the war with Criston Cole, not courting a woman who was indifferent to him.

Worse, now that he had managed to forget what he had done to his nephew, he knew that along with Floris Baratheon's face all the memories, nightmares and unbearable pain in his eye socket would return.

He sighed, straightening up, standing with his hands folded behind his back as a couple of carriages drove through the gate, one with only the chests, the other surely with the person to whom they belonged.

Gods, how long was she going to stay here?

The door opened and he moved ahead reluctantly, needing to show at least a bit of courtesy, giving her his hand – Floris smiled at him gratefully and placed her soft palm on his, stepping out the carriage like the princess she surely longed to be.

"My Lady. Welcome to the Red Keep." He said, letting go of her hand, folding it behind him again.

A squeal and a cry of a little boy before Luke was swallowed by the Vhagar's maw.

He swallowed heavily, feeling a cold sweat on the back of his neck and an unpleasant stab of pain in his eye socket.

His betrothed bowed before him.

"My Prince. I am tired after my journey. Please, guide me to my chamber." She said, and he nodded, hoping that she was very tired and would not require any other effort from him.

He took a breath, surprised, feeling discomfort when they moved ahead and her fingers slid under his arm right away, snuggling into his side as if they were a pair of lovers.

He closed his eye and swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his throat, rage, humiliation and shame, aware that the guards and servants might have been watching and mocking him, knowing how much he hated such familiarity.

For her, however, what was more important was not how he felt, but what she imagined in her head.

He was only to adapt to her fantasies.

As they walked into the chamber his mother had specially chosen for her, Floris smiled – her windows looked out onto the harbour itself, the beautiful sea and the sun.

He hummed, wondering if he would be able to escape.

"Get some rest, my Lady. I will see you at the supper." He said, wanting to take a step back and leave, but he heard her sigh quickly, seeing out of the corner of his eye her furrowed brow.

"I was hoping that we would get to know each other more closely. That you were also looking forward to this moment like I was. We could take a walk in the royal gardens and talk." She said with a hopefulness that made him feel a discomfort in his stomach.

He thought that he had not been waiting for this moment at all.

His brother had told him to get Borros Baratheon's daughter, and he did.

It was a decision dictated by politics, not the desire of his heart.

Deep down, he wished that as soon as the war was over their betrothal would be undone.

Storm's End would then no longer be of any use to them.

But he couldn't tell her that.

He finally looked at her, seeing her gaze full of desire but also excitement, as if she had already imagined what this marriage would give her – that he would surely slowly fall in love with her, that his behaviour was only due to embarrassment and his shy nature.

It didn't even occur to her that she could be indifferent to him, and that was exactly the case.

How was he supposed to make something out of nothing?

"What would you like to discuss with me?" He asked, wanting to shift the burden of this awkward exchange of words onto her.

His betrothed exhaled quietly, as if comforted that he hadn't left, though she smiled, something in her gaze that he didn't like.

"My heart broke when I learned of your lonely expedition. I understand, my Prince, that you did it for the good of the Kingdom, but you must know how awful and difficult the experience was for me, knowing that there was a young, unmarried woman at your side." She said in a way that indicated, in his opinion, that she was not sad because of it, but angry and irritated.

He hated it when someone did not say directly what was on their mind.

"At my brother's request, the Maester has dispelled your doubts, my Lady. My cousin remains untouched." He said coldly, however his grin was wide, menacing – he knew by the look on her face that she understood that she had frustrated him.

She, however, instead of accepting his explanation or negating it, decided to probe deeper into the subject.

"But did you touch her, my Prince? With your hands or your mouth?" She asked, looking at him proudly, as if she recognised that these questions were necessary for her to feel that her position remained unthreatened.

She felt his hands clench into fists behind his back.

"I touched her with my hands. It's hard not to when you're flying together on the back of a dragon."

"So I also want to fly with you on the back of a dragon." She communicated, like a child demanding the same toy from him.

He felt his teeth clench in his jaw, his heart pounding like mad in his chest with rage.

Who was she to demand anything from him?

Stupid cunt.

"I cannot agree to this, my Lady, for the sake of your safety. Your father has placed you under our protection." He said lightly, smiling so that for a moment he exposed his teeth, as if he wanted to bite through her artery.

"With you, I will certainly be safe." She didn't give up, clearly annoyed that he was denying her what he had given to another woman.

"I do not agree. Rest, my Lady. I will see you during supper." He replied and, without waiting for her farewell or a word, left the chamber with a slam of the door.

He felt like shouting, hitting someone, a guard or a servant, beating them until they lost consciousness.

And then he remembered.

Tyland Lannister's fucking servant.

It was time to make him pay for his lack of discretion.

"Robert is no longer serving in the fortress, Your Highness. He was moved to Casterly Rock by Lord Lannister." Said one of the boys when asked where he could find him.

His brother knew what he would want to do and removed the man from his sight so that he could not take revenge on him for his betrayal.

Fucking bastard.

He pounded his palms on the top of his table and cursed in rage, feeling like he was about to explode – he had the urge to ride to Vhagar, get on her back and burn everything he came across in his path.

He closed his hands into fists and leaned forward, panting heavily, feeling like a caged animal.

Why were there traps waiting for him on every side, set for him by his mother and his brother?

Why did he still experience from them the two feelings that caused him such pain: rejection and humiliation?

Sitting at the great table among the lords and their families, staring blankly ahead, pretending not to see the expectant glances of his betrothed in his direction, hoping for any kind of conversation, he thought for the first time in his life that he wished he simply didn't exist.

He wanted to disappear so that he didn't have to deal with all this.

What did he get in return?

A sad, disappointed look from his mother and a sneer from his older brother.

"What's that grave look, brother? Do you not rejoice at the sight of your chosen one, Lady Floris? She has come a long way to see your displeased face." Said Aegon and laughed, licking his lips, none, however, echoed him.

If it had been the first time, or the fiftieth time, but he could no longer count how many times he had humiliated him in this way in the presence of others, and he always, every time, felt the same squeeze in his throat, sadness and emptiness.

Why didn't he instead take him aside, ask him what was happening?

Doesn't he need help?

His brotherly understanding, advice, support?

Was he not worthy of this honour?

He sighed, deciding it didn't matter, when he heard the chamber door open and his King's attention turned to another guest.

"Ah, here is my dear, fearless cousin. Come here, my Lady, I have assigned you a seat next to my brother. Perhaps your presence will lift his spirits." His brother called out, and he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, not even bothering to look at the expression on his betrothed's face, hearing her twist next to him in her chair.

He wondered if it wouldn't be better if he just killed him.

He heard her footsteps behind his back, and a moment later he smelled her pleasant, floral scent – the servant had pushed back her chair for her. She sat down beside him, to his right, and for some reason he felt a little better.

She was by his side.

He didn't understand why, but he struggled to restrain himself from slipping his hand under the table and placing it on her thigh, wandering up and down, wordlessly letting her know that he missed her in some strange, twisted way.

She was always honest with him, his little dragon, her and her sweet, sharp tongue that cut like a dagger.

"My Lady." He heard Floris's voice to his left, leaning forward to see her better.

Gods, have mercy, he thought.

She was going to express her jealousy in front of everyone.

"I congratulate you on taming a dragon. No one expected you to succeed." She said with feigned admiration from which he rolled his eyes and shook his head, glancing at his cousin.

She, to his surprise was smiling broadly, her eyes shining dangerously, as if his betrothed amused her but also irritated her at the same time.

"I didn't believe it myself, my Lady. I was convinced that I would burn and become dust." She said with such light-heartedness that he and several people at the table chuckled at her words.

Why did he feel satisfaction?

"The gods have spared you. Will you stand to fight your father?" Floris continued, deliberately changing the subject to one that was uncomfortable for her, to force her to make a mistake and say something she shouldn't.

"Enough." He said impatiently, wanting to spare her this, however, his cousin decided to respond, finding her question surprisingly easy to answer.

"My dragon lacks experience and composure. I will be a mere support for the King and the Prince."

He smirked under his breath, thinking she had been clever in answering politely and cordially, while giving his betrothed no reason to mock or cause him or the King himself to distrust her.

To his relief, Aegon interrupted this exchange of words by ordering music to be played, and he decided to eat something, feeling that, indeed, his cousin's presence by his side had lifted his spirits and restored his appetite.

He pressed his lips together and sighed when Floris's hand brushed his wrist.

Did she have to touch him all the time?

Did she think it was romantic, that she was arousing his desire in this way?

The only feeling he felt was frustration.

"Will you pass me a tray of goose pate, my love?" She asked in a whisper, as if she was telling him some important secret, and he simply nodded, handing her the platter.

"Thank you." She said, but he answered her nothing, concentrating on his roast, hoping she wouldn't make him speak to her with his mouth full.

When he had quenched his thirst and satisfied his appetite, he thought it was time for him and his cousin to leave, however, they could not do so together – that would arouse the displeasure and curiosity of his betrothed, and he did not want that.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to get her attention, but she was focused on cutting the meat, immersed in her own world, not caring about what was going on around her.

The desire to sink his fingers into her thigh returned to him with redoubled force making his manhood pulsate softly in his breeches, but he limited himself to pressing his knee against hers, hoping she would understand what he meant.

He saw that she froze and breathed a sigh of relief when she finally stood up, communicating to all assembled that she would retire to bed, to which his brother-king, already completely drunk, agreed.

He waited a long time before getting up himself.

"My brother. Are you leaving us already?" Aegon asked.

"I am tired." He explained, looking at him coolly.

It was not a lie, he thought.

"I will escort you to your chamber, my Prince." Floris said, immediately rising from her seat, and he nodded, wanting nothing more than to escape from this room as quickly as possible.

This was what his evenings were to be like for days, weeks, months, years, once she became his wife.

He swallowed hard, stepping out into the corridor, feeling the contents of his stomach and the roast he had eaten rise to his throat as if he was about to vomit.

He closed his eyes and pulled away from her as she tried again to grab his arm.

"No." He growled more harshly than he would have liked, feeling his heart pounding like mad as he simply walked ahead.

Her silhouette walked beside him, her face raised at him filled with bitterness.

"Why? We are betrothed. I long to feel your closeness, at least for a moment."

He stopped, looking at her as if he was about to tear her apart, feeling himself breathing loudly through his mouth.

"But I don't want it." He said in a breaking voice, thinking that perhaps if he played the wounded boy it would give him at least a little peace and space.

"It's just a touch of the hand, my love. Nothing bad." She said, against his request touching his arm again, stroking it in a gesture of comfort.

He closed his eyes and grinned coldly, shaking his head, feeling tears of despair under his eyelids.

He thought he hated her.

"Sleep well, my Lady."

"This corridor. This is not the way to your chambers." She said in a trembling voice.

He looked at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart thump harder in his chest.

"I need to do one more thing."

"Do you..."

"That's enough. One more word from you and I'll lose patience. Don't provoke me." He said and turned away, walking towards the library.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he looked over his shoulder and saw that she was gone.

He ran his hand over his face, thinking that he couldn't stand it.

That he had to somehow get rid of her from the Red Keep and his life.

His brother was not worth such a sacrifice.

He felt at home in the library – the old oak bookcases filled to the brim with thick volumes reminded him of his childhood, the years he had spent in that great hall, hiding from the world.

He pulled out a few of the books he had used himself to study, knowing most of them almost by heart, and spread them out on one of the tables where one of the servants had lit some candles.

"You may leave." He said, and the boy nodded and left.

When the door finally opened and he saw her, he froze.

She was wearing his mother's robe thrown over her nightgown, that was certain, however, he did not understand why she had put it on now – that attire should only be worn in the privacy of her own chamber, outside of it being in a degree of negligee.

He swallowed quietly, watching as her girlish figure moved across the floor towards him with a quiet rustling of the shiny, delicate fabric tied at her waist.

He had a feeling that if he pulled at the ribbon, he would reveal her entire beautiful, bare body before his eyes, hidden only beneath the thin layer of her linen shirt.

He grunted as she sat down beside him, smelling her pleasant, fresh scent, sliding a few books towards her.

He knew what he wanted to practice with her and he was doing it deliberately.

He needed to take it out on someone and she had become his victim.

"We'll start with the basics. The most important and simplest terms." He said, pointing his finger at one of the words.

"Jelmor." He hummed. "North."

"Jelmor." She whispered, her voice soft and calm, clearly focused on her task.

She really wanted to learn, he thought with surprise and pride.

The heritage she so despised had become dear to her.

He felt a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen and satisfaction at the thought.

"Ñāqon. East."

"Nāqon." She said, however, with a mistake, not making the right sound at the beginning of the word.

"No. Roll your tongue at the n." He explained, and she swallowed hard, as if gathering the courage to say it again.

"Ñāqon." She said, slightly better this time.

"Better. Vēzor. South."

"Vēzor."

"Endia. West."

"Endia."

"Muña. Mother." He hummed, looking at her intently, and saw exactly what he wanted.

She froze completely, and her body tensed all over as if he had hit her.

"Muña." She said softly, warmly, her voice trembling slightly, betraying the pain she felt.

"Mmm. Kepa. Father." He said, and she looked at him in a way from which his manhood instantly swelled and pulsed hard, causing his lips to part in a sigh.

Her brown eyes were glazed from tears, her eyebrows arched in pain as if she was asking him why he was doing this to her.

"Repeat." He whispered.

"Kepa." She said, as if she was praying to one of the gods.

Kepa.

A single, lonely tear ran down her cheek, a sign that she still loved him, her father who had abandoned her, after all these years remaining a small child craving attention and praise, helpless and powerless, beautiful in her suffering.

Noble.

He lifted his hand to her cheek, for some reason wanting to relieve her, to let her know that he understood her, that he didn't think what she felt was a cause for shame.

She shuddered as his thumb brushed the wet mark from her plump cheek, the gaze of her doe eyes fixed on him, only on him.

"Trēsy. Son." He said softly, quietly, as if he was afraid to frighten her, his index finger running over her jaw, admiring the shape of her smooth face.

"Tresy."

"No." He said. "Trēsy. The letter 'ē' needs to be read deeper, as if you want to sing."

"Trēsy."

"Tala. Daugther."

He saw her shake her head, pressing her lips together as if to tell him that she was incapable of doing it, of uttering a word the meaning of which remained foreign to her.

She didn't know what it meant to be someone's daughter, just as he didn't know what it meant to be someone's betrothed, someone's son, someone's brother.

He pressed his forehead against hers, sinking his hand into the back of her neck, stroking soothingly her soft skin, feeling himself grow hard, his breath deep and uneven, filled with desire.

Her closeness was never forced, he thought with tenderness, to which his heart thumped harder in his chest.

Just like with her dragon, she allowed him to approach her when he wished, watching her from afar, circling around her until he himself, of his own accord, fell again and again into her arms.

"Tala."

"Hāedar." He hummed, feeling his erection throb hard in his breeches, his gaze fixed on her face. "Little sister."

She opened her eyes upon hearing those words, and he saw what he wanted in her hazy, hot gaze.

She was wet.

She merely sighed as his other hand did what he had longed to do since supper, touching her knee, travelling lazily upwards to her place of pleasure.

"Hāedar." She exhaled, her puffy, pink lips parted sweetly, her hard nipples peeking through her robe.

Gods, how he craved her.

I'm going to caress her, he thought, and then I'll take her here, on this table.

"Lēkia." He breathed out in a trembling voice, closing his hand over her womanhood, her eyebrows arching in disbelief as a quiet, innocent moan broke from her throat. "Older brother."

Say it, he thought, feeling his cock twitch in his breeches in impatience, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Lēkia." She moaned as if calling out to him, begging him to end her suffering, and his hand immediately clenched in her hair allowing his mouth, swollen with desire, to close on hers in a greedy, hot kiss.

She gasped in his throat as their one lustful kiss turned into a second, a third and a fourth – a surprised murmur of delight broke from his lips as her soft hand touch his cheek, combing through his hair at last, her closeness so unforced, tender, warm, innocent, desired.

He thought he had never allowed himself to be kissed on the mouth by Madam, while his lips sank again and again into her helpless sobs of pleasure, breathing hard with the loud clicks of their saliva, his impatient, slick tongue forced its way deep into her hot throat as his hand lifted the material of her robe higher.

She mewled and shuddered all over, clasping her hands on his body as his fingertips finally dug into the leaking, silken structure of her folds – he groaned low, surprised to feel her cunt pulsing all over, hot and moist under his fingers, ready for his further caresses.

She wanted this.

She wanted him inside her.

He thought his cock was about to burst with desire, but he knew he couldn't take her yet, so in an act of desperation he grabbed one of her hands and pressed it against the throbbing, hard bulge in his breeches.

They both groaned, panting into each other's mouths, teasing each other with the tips of their wet tongues as, while his fingers circled around her little pearl, she trailed over his long, swollen manhood.

He pulled her to him, embracing her around the waist, feeling her sweet nipples pushing against the material of his tunic as her swollen lips and soft thighs parted invitingly before him with her cry of pleasure, the tips of his fingers pushing against her slit, ready to slide into her and feel how tight and warm she was.

A voice stuck in their throats and they both pulled away from each other as if burned, terrified when they heard someone open the door – in some subconscious, involuntary reflex he wiped his fingers, sticky with her wetness against his breeches, her hands quickly leaving the material of her robe down.

When he saw Floris's grave face he closed his eyes and sighed, feeling his heart pounding like mad in bitterness and disappointment, his cock pulsing and twitching in his trousers, not understanding why he had interrupted their caresses when what he had experienced was so pleasurable.

So right.

"The guards told me I would find you here, my Prince. I did not know you would have company." She said quietly, and he looked ahead with a blank stare, wondering how he could believe that she would just go to sleep, that she would not move after him, suspicious and full of concerns.

Rightful concerns, moreover.

"I am teaching my cousin the language of Old Valyria. It is the only way she can communicate with her dragon." He said, feeling only weariness and fatigue, not having the strength to look at her or speak to her.

He knew he had been cruel, but there was nothing he could do about it.

If she had been wiser, she would have seen that he did not care about her or her welfare and would have asked her father herself to break off their betrothal, not wanting to suffer such humiliation.

She, however, preferred to remain the prince's betrothed, even if unwanted one.

Floris walked over to the table and flipped through one of the pages, pretending to understand anything of what was written there.

"May I join you? I would also like to learn the language of your ancestors, my love." She said, and although he clearly asked her not to touch him, her hand laid on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, feeling an unpleasant shudder.

Her hand on his shoulder or between his thighs, what difference did it make?

"I will not be able to concentrate with you standing by my side, my Lady." He whispered in a weak voice, for some reason feeling humiliated, having the urge to cry like a child.

Take your hand off me, he thought, but her hand slipped lower, to his forearm.

"Does my presence disturb you, my love?" She asked, but more than her question, his attention was drawn to the fact that his cousin wanted to get up from her seat.

"I'll leave you alone. With your permission." She said, and he pressed his lips together, feeling panic.

No, he thought.

Don't leave me alone with her.

"Daor, hāedar."

She looked at him in shock, her lips parted slightly in disbelief, her eyebrows arched in pain, in her eyes warmth, tenderness and something else from which he felt a pleasant tingling in his fingertips as he watched her sit back in her seat.

She stayed.

"What did you say, my love?" Floris asked, and he licked his lower lip, feeling impatience.

"I don't allow it. We are not finished yet. Soon her dragon will move to fight at my side and she must be ready. I ask that you never interrupt us again. If you wish, we will take a walk around the royal gardens tomorrow, just as you desire." He said, willing to give her what she wanted as long as she left him alone and took her hand off him.

"Is it because she is your cousin? Like any Targaryen you prefer your own kin?" His betrothed asked with anger, and something snapped inside him – his fists hit the table with all his might, both of them jumping as he stood up like an enraged lion, thinking he was going to kill this whore with his own hands.

Who the fuck was she to speak to him like that?

He could have had her tongue for that and sent it in a small casket to her father as a warning so that none of his daughters would appear in the Red Keep again.

"Lēkia." He heard her pleading voice, her soft hand gently touching his arm in an attempt to stop him.

He looked at her, at his hāedar, at her sweet face red with emotion, her gaze full of request, her puffy lips parted in an uneven, deep breath.

If he could, he would kiss her again, her moist lips, her long neck, her plump breasts, her hard nipples, her smooth stomach, to finally sink his face into her leaking, soft cunt.

For a moment he considered doing this, he decided, however, that doing so would humiliate her, and he did not want that.

Her hand let go of him when she saw that the first wave of his anger had passed, replaced by a second, much more threatening one.

He looked at his betrothed, at her face twisted in a grimace of anger and pain, at her eyes filled with tears.

She had come to marry the image of a man, not him.

"I will consider that you never said it, my Lady. Otherwise I would have to recognise that you intended to insult me and my family. And that would mean, in turn, that my betrothed is a fool. Is that how it is, my Lady?" He asked with a sneer in his voice, the corner of his mouth twitching when he saw the frown on her forehead at his words.

"No, my Prince. I am not." She said, looking at his cousin in a way he didn't like, before he could say anything, however, Floris turned and walked away, leaving them alone.

Silence fell – he glanced at his cousin out of the corner of his eye, partly hoping that they would finish what they had started, still half-hard, but he saw that her face was turned away in embarrassment, her figure bent.

Unlike him, she had a sense of shame, he thought regretfully.

"You may leave." He said.

She nodded and moved towards the door, as if she was afraid that if she looked at him she wouldn't hold back and they would both sin even more than they already had.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard as the door closed behind her – he sat down in his chair, undid the belt from his tunic and untied his breeches, immediately putting his hand inside them.

He groaned throatily and leaned his forehead down, pressing it against the wooden table top, imagining that he was actually cuddling it to her sweet breasts, gripping his erection in his palm.

He imagined how he would do this to her – how gentle his thrusts into her delicate, warm body would be, rocking his hips lazily back and forth, rolling them each time his fingers squeezed the base of his swollen, pink cock, sighing in pleasure.

"– hāedar – oh, fuck –" He exhaled, speeding up, panting hard, imposing a more aggressive, faster pace on himself, squeezing his painfully hard erection with loud smacks of his palm against his stones, feeling that he would reach his peak embarrassingly quickly.

"– ah –" He moaned like a little boy, feeling tears under his eyelids at the thought of how great the relief that shook his body was, his mouth wide open as his pearly, sticky spend trickled down his fingers.

For a moment more he moved his hips in rhythm with his hand, imagining that he was deep inside her, in her warmth, snuggled between her soft breasts, calm and safe.

And then he opened his eyes and felt a squeeze in his throat, seeing the books and the candles all around him, feeling an embarrassing, painful emptiness.

His jaw trembled, his breath became heavy, but he did not allow himself to shed any tears, getting up from his seat, bringing himself to order.

He was just fastening the belt of his tunic when one of the guards suddenly rushed in, terrified.

"My Prince. Your prisoner has been attacked."

He stood over her bed feeling that he was quivering with rage, not hearing his mother's or his brother's discussion, looking at her gentle face immersed in sleep.

"Will she survive? We need her. How the fuck could this happen?" Aegon said, pacing around the room furiously, running his hand over his chin.

"In my opinion, she was hit in the back of the head with a long, heavy object, after which her head hit something hard again, probably the stone floor. This night will determine her death or life. If there has been bleeding inside her skull, nothing can be done." The Maester said, and he looked away, staring at Floris' face, who stood beside his mother, pale, afraid to lift her gaze to him.

For a moment he wondered, sure that it was her doing, whether to expose her in front of his brother, then, however, he decided that she might begin to say something about what she had seen, to spread rumours about his and his cousin's relationship.

He had to deal with her himself.

"We have fucking enemies everywhere. Maybe it was her father who sent someone to get rid of her?" His brother continued, thinking out loud.

Floris looked at him and nodded.

"It is very possible, Your Grace. Certainly Prince Daemon is furious that she managed to tame a dragon. Poor girl." She said, as if she was actually worried and sympathised with her, and he looked at her, grinning broadly.

I'm going to fucking kill you, he thought.

"Aemond. Do you find this amusing?" His mother said to him, snapping him out of his reverie.

"I find it very amusing, mother, because I think I know who did it." He said lightly, glancing at his brother, who spread his arms in a gesture of invitation.

"So tell us this secret." He said, and he looked at his betrothed with a smile.

"As soon as I am sure. Meanwhile, I will escort my betrothed to her chambers. She must surely be tired, and I do not wish to see her suffer a similar fate to my poor cousin." He sneered, cocking his head, stepping towards her.

"No need, my Prince, don't bother." She muttered, panicking, unable to look him in the eye as he towered over her.

"I insist."

Floris Baratheon's head slammed into the wall with all his strength as soon as the door to her chamber closed behind them – he grabbed her by the throat, holding the blade of his dagger against her chin.

"You will return to Storm's End and tell your illiterate father that our betrothal was broken because of you. Furthermore, you will tell him what you did to my cousin. You will say that the Crown could not, because of your unacceptable behaviour, bring about our marriage, but that the agreement between your father and the Realm is still in force. If your father objects, I will come to Storm's End on Vhagar once more, and I promise you that you will meet the fate of my nephew, you dumb, insolent cunt." He growled and let her go – Floris fell to her knees, drew in her air loudly and burst out sobbing, curling up in fear.

"– why are you hurting me? – I have nothing to do with it, I swear –" She mumbled, choking on her own tears.

"– and I swear you that if you insist on becoming my wife, I will hurt you every morning and every evening, for all the days of your life, and then I will fuck my cousin in the chamber next door so that you can listen to what pleasure means, which you will never know from me – you are to leave the Red Keep with the first light –" He said coldly and left, closing the door behind him with a loud slam.

When he returned back to her chamber, there were only the physicians and the Maester, who was supervising their work, laying cold cloths on her forehead.

"Did she get a fever?" He asked, sitting down beside her on the soft bed, touching her cheek.

It was hot.

"Yes." He said, bringing a new bowl of water and ice.

"Leave it. I'll do it myself." He said, rising from his seat, undoing the belt and buckles of his leather tunic, staying only in his white linen shirt tucked into his breeches.

"I will come to examine her again in an hour, my Prince." Said the Maester and bowed to him, leaving him alone with her.

He sat back on the bed beside her, pulling the cloth from her face, sinking it anew into the cold water only to place it on her warm forehead again.

"– umbagon lēda nyke, zaldrītsos (stay with me, little dragon) –" He hummed tenderly, his hand moving from her forehead higher, combing her soft hair with his fingers.

"– kepa –"

He froze, looking at her in pain, her brow arched in misery.

She thought he was Daemon.

He swallowed hard, leaning toward her, stroking her head with his hand as if she were a small child.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, his full lips pressing a soft, warm kiss on her hot forehead. "– you're safe now –"

She opened her eyes – he saw her tears, glistening in the candlelight, running down the sides of her face, as if his words had both hurt and soothed her.

He sighed as her small hand lifted to cup his scarred cheek, the tips of her fingers brushed against his skin.

"– lēkia –" She mumbled, something about the way she said it, the relief he saw in her eyes, made their lips press together in a sticky, tender kiss.

"– mmm –" She sighed as he repeated the caress with a quiet click of their saliva, running his thumb over her jaw and chin, sinking into the moist sweetness of her plump lips again and again, uniting with her in that innocent, intimate way.

They both breathed heavily as he pulled away from her, looking at each other for a moment, his erection pulsing hard in his breeches, letting him know he had to stop.

He couldn't take her now.

He hummed, seeing that she closed her eyes again, stroking her hot, rosy cheek with his thumb, her face nuzzled into his hand.

"– sleep, little sister – your brother will stay by your side –"

451 notes · View notes

jinxthequeergirl · 6 months ago

Text

The Ol switcharoo (pt4)

Stan x reader/ ford x reader

Summary: You journey into stanfords mind for the sake of the shack when you learn more than you probably should have

Warning: none Look, I'm trying to lay down more romance. The stakes are gonna get raised soon. We can't keep tiptoeing guys

Also sorry if it feels a little choppy and all over the place

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~

Stanford had been distant a lot more than you would like to have admitted over the past few weeks. Sure, you'd get the kids together, and all of you would hang out and have your own little adventures, but more often than not, you couldn't find him before you followed your new adopted great niece and nephew out the door for the next great adventure or activity for the summer.

You loved going out with them, taking them to lunch, or to shop Dipper even more recently, inviting you to monster hunt again. But when you weren't invited and the kids went on their own journey, you found the house was only quiet.

In the what seemed to be rare and far in-between days stan was with the three of you, you felt a great wave of peace wash over you. The four of you laughing in the car after narrowly escaping one of stans crazy ideas, sitting with him on the back porch, watching the kids run around.

You felt a buzz inside you when you sat next to him, watching him laugh at dippers water balloon hitting the ground without a pop. You loved your routine with him before the kids arrived. It seemed like that was becoming all you knew.

But the shack felt different with laughter filling it up. And if you realized it or not, those two kids were bringing you closer to Stanford when he hung around. You took a deep breath and scooted in closer to Stanford, his arm instinctively wrapped around the back of the couch, letting you fill as much space next to him as you wished.

"I can't believe this is my life now. I don't know what i did to deserve this." He said, looking down at you as you now watched the twins in the yard. "Everything happens for a reason, remember?"

"I guess so." His hand fell softly onto your shoulder, snuggling you closer. "Look out!" You and Stanford both jumped up as one of the water balloons landed where you were once sitting.

"Can't a guy get any peace around here!?" You laugh at him as he runs out into the yard demanding a balloon.

The feelings washed away, knowing he'd be hiding by tonight.

He was right, though. You couldn't believe this was your life as of right now.

"Y/n?"

You hummed in response as you cleaned dippers cut. "Would you say your feelings for Grunkle stan are...of the romantic kind?" Mable asked from right beside her brother her own adventure wounds needing to be rented too.

"Mable!" Dipper yelped, knocking her over with a nudge. You laughed out loud at her question. "Sorry..sorry." You cleared your throat. "Excuse me. Mable, what would make you ask something like that?"

"Oh c'moonnn as a love expert-"

"Your twelve-"

"I can see how you and grunkle stan look at eachother, you've been friends for years, and you've really never felt anything more than friendship for him?"

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about her question. "I guess maybe a few years ago... but things were different back then, and I never knew how he felt about me. Besides, so much time has passed that I'm sure that old fart feels anything other than tired anymore." Mable jumped to her feet and smashed your cheeks together.

"Y/n it is my mission as a matchmaker and love expert of gravity falls. I make it my mission to get you and my grunkle together!"

"Mable, why do you even care? Grunkle stan has shown no interest in anything other than money since we've been here."

"Dippers got a point." You say pulling tables small hands from your face. "Besides, I'm not taking love advice from the girl who dated little Gideon not too long ago."

Mable's face grew red, and she pulled the neck of her sweater up. "Ugh, don't remind me." You chuckled again, refocusing the attention to the wounds on each kid as Dipper went back to explaining what had happened in the first place.

You'd gone the next few weeks thinking about mables question. Did you still have feelings for stanford?

It wasn't something you thought much about. You two just existed with eachother nothing ever really came out of it since you were young. Besides, you'd never make a move unless you knew his exact feeling for you. He'd been so secretive recently that the only way For that to happen, you'd have to get inside his mind to find anything like that out.

Of course that was almost impossible.

"Y/N THERES A LITTLE YELLOW GUY TRUING TO TAKE OVER STANS MIND WE NEED YOUR HELP DIPPERS GOING TO TAKE US IN THERE COME ON COME ON!"

Of course maybe you spoke to soon.

"Mable slow down! What's going on!?" You asked as she dragged you by the sleeve into the family room where Stanford sat sleeping.

"So like we saw little Gideon in the woods and poof a little yellow man appeared and he made a deal with him to go inside stans mind to get the code to the safe that Mr pines keeps the deed in." Soos explained in one long breath you could see his face Turing a strange shade of red and violet.

"Wha-"

"No time we need to go now before it's to late!" Mable cried before you could even think to ask for clarification or any follow up questions.

You followed along with what Dipper told you to do, and you watched as he read from an oddly familiar book.

You make a note to ask him about it later.

Your thoughts were cut off as dippers chanting got louder, and before you knew it, the world had melted away from you, and you were suddenly sitting in a patch of grey grass.

"Wow! This is stans mind?" Mable said, hopping up and looking at the grey landscape before you.

You pushed yourself and looked around jaw on the floor. "I've done some pretty crazy things in my day, but this is beyond me..."

"Thanks for coming along y/n!" Mable said.

"Of course! You know you can count on me for anything, kids."

"OK, we need to keep an eye out for the triangle guy." Dipper stated as you headed twoard the shack.

"Yea, look put for the triangle guy!" You jumped at the voice that appeared out if no were surprised to see it belonged to exactly what the kids and soos had said.

"It's him it's the guy!" Soos said in alarm pointing at the glowing shape.

"You leave our grunkles mind alone, you isosollies monster!" Mable shouted as she charged at him. "Mable!" You and Dipper shouted each holding out an arm to grab her.

You watched in horror as the triangle swallowed her up and waited a minute before spitting her back out into your arms.

"Stan's family, it's good to finally meet you! Some more than others!" He said, floating particularly close to you as he said so. You scowled at him and shielded Mable from him. "Names bill cipher."

"Get out of stans mind! You have no business here!" Dipper shouted.

"Trust me, kid! You're the only one who should be getting out of here your way over your heads." His one winked as he shot a finger gun twoard Dipper shooting ahole through him. "I'm gonna find that code and and you're not going to stop me!"

He flew away, leaving a triangle shape hole in the shack.

"We gotta get that code before that freak does." You said pausing to giggle as Mable reached her arm through the hole in dippers chest.

"Mable!" You coughed and put on a serious face. "Alright, kids...and soos.. let's go."

You lead the way into the shack of stans mind your eyes darting from door to door each labeled a different thing.

Fears, hopes, etc.

"Look! Stans memories!" Soos pointed out. You all ran into the hall watching memories play out all around you. "Quick, let's split up and cover more ground."

You turned to open a door but the mables' hand caught yours. "Look what I found!" She squealed with giddy. "You found the code? Already?" She shook her head and dragged you out down the memory hall and too a door with a heart carved into the wood. Signage warning against opening the door nearly covering every inch.

"What is this?" You asked the girl beside you. "Look for yourself." She lifted up a "get lost" sign to reveal the doors true label.

"Y/ns memories."

"Oh Mable I dunno...we should really be looking for the code."

"Oh, c'mon, you said it yourself that you never really knew what he felt for you it wouldn't hurt to look!"

"Yes, Mable, it would! the shack is at steak-"

Before you could continue, Mable had opened the door and pushed you in. "Face your fears y/n! Face your emotions!" She slammed the door shut on you. "Don't worry y/n we'll find the code before bill does, I'll come back for you when we do!"

you huffed and stood up dusting yourself off, this was ridicules you knew how Stanford felt about you you've known each other for what felt like your whole life. Besides you told Mable already if anything was to happen it would have by now. your hand grasped the door handle as you prepared to chase the twins and Soos down.

"Congratulations!" you heard a voice say from behind you. you turned to see one of the many doors cracked open. despite your better judgment to go after the kids you went straight for the door pulling it open. to see your wedding day.

well, your fake Vegas wedding. stan stood at the counter with the cashier in a dinky thrift shop on the outskirts of Vegas itself, waiting for you. "oh right..." you mumble to yourself watching your shared memory through Stans eyes.

"I'm sure you're very excited about the wedding." Stanford shrugged. "Trust me, I've been married a few times...this ain't nothing new for me." you frowned a little, you weren't sure why, you knew that's how he'd felt and it wasn't a real wedding. "Stanford! Look at this!!!" you yelled excitedly to him pushing open a dressing room curtain behind him.

you excitedly spun around in the wedding outfit you had picked out, you were so much younger, it suspired you too see yourself.

you watched Stanford's face flush upon seeing you his eyes fixated on you jaw almost on the floor. you didn't remember him looking at you like that. "wow you look...you look amazing!" he said rubbing the back of his neck trying to find the right words. you squealed in a pitch similar to the one Mable had done earlier before shutting the curtain again. "you were saying this wasn't something new?" the cashier asked raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"listen between you and me this whole Vegas wedding isn't anything new for me...they're corny, cheap and lousy all things y/n doesn't deserve any of that stuff, and I don't know why I'm telling you of all people, but I've known y/n for a while now the way she makes me feel isn't like how anyone has made me feel before I could never tell any of this too her, I've ruined to many relationships I could risk losing her in my life so try to act nonchalant about these types of thing, don't want to give myself away you know." the cashier stared at him unsure of how to react to all the information dumped onto him.

"here's 20 bucks to forget everything I said." he said sliding money across the counter.

you shut the door with a smile before looking down the long hallway. you crept over to another one. opening the door only to see a normal night you asleep on his shoulder as he continued to talk about the movie that was playing without realizing. it took him a whole monologue before realizing you had passed out. he leaned over careful not to wake you but enough to see you where sleeping.

he took a deep breath before talking some more. "Here goes nothing, y/n you've been with me through thick and thin when no one had my back you where there...I guess what I'm trying to say is y/n I...I think I have feeing's for you...you've made me an honest man in some ways...and.." you jumped upon hearing screaming.

"Oh no Kids!" you took off running swinging the door open and running down the hallway running past memories trying to find the kids. "Dipper!? Mable? Soos!?"

"Dipper!-"

"This here's a-"

"Stan Vac-"

"Stanley do something-" you could no longer hear the kids let alone see them in all the noise of Stanford's memories. you began running out of the memories hall in hopes you'd find them somewhere else. "Dipper!? Mab-" the wind was knocked out of you as you and dipper crashed right into each other. "Y/n! there you are!"

"Dipper you're ok! where is your sister and Soos!?"

"Bills got them! Don't worry I have a plan!" you followed dipper through Stanford's mind following his exact plan, you never even thought about what you could do in ones mind, flying and giant water guns didn't never even cross your mind.

"Hey one eye!" you and dipper grabbed bills attention as you floated up to his level neon colored squirt guns in hand. "WHAT!?"

"Dipper! Y/N! how are you doing that?"

"This is a mindscape you can do anything you imagine in here!" you explained."who told you that? dont liten to them!"

"ready dipper!?"

"ready y/n! aim and..."

"Fire!" you both shot your water guns at bills eye causing him to cry out in pain, you watched Mable conjure herself kitten fists and launched them at bill.

"Now think of a portal out of stans mind!" the four of you shut your eyes and all thought as hard as you could as a portal opened up under bill. "No No No wait! wait! wait! ENOUGH!"

you all flew back as the space around you was now a white void. "you know you're all a lot smarter than you look! I'll let you go for now, you might prove to be useful especially you y/n."

you scrunched your nose at him. "but remember there will come a day when everything you care about will change! until then I'll be watching you!"

there was a bright flash and he was gone. "well that wasn't ominous.." you said "we did it though! He left!" dipper cheered.

before you knew it Stan woke up and you were all wakening up in the Livingroom. and for a moment everything was normal again. "Ugh I had the weirdest dream." stan said rubbing his head. "You're ok!" you exclaimed running over to hug him and planting a quick kiss on his lips. his face heated up as you did so and before you knew it the kids had joined the hug.

a few hours later you'd gotten the kids to go to bed and found Stanford sitting on the back porch. "care for a drink?" you asked offering him a pitty cola he accepted with a smile. and you sat down next to him.

"where have you been?' you asked. a lot had happened today a lot that made you think things over and you decided to start there.

"what do you mean?" he asked with a chuckle. "I've been right here like i always have."

you shook your head. "Most days we can't find you, its been me and the kids or just me in the house, a lot has changed since those two came around most of its been for the better but i didn't think it would drive you away."

he frowned. "do you trust me?"

"Of course." you answered without hesitation.

"I've been working on something i cant tell you what but it's important. and I'll tell you what if it bothers you so much, I'll be around more." you smiled.

"good, I miss you." you said bumping into him.

you both chuckled and then there was a beat of silence you looked up at the sky and took a breath. "Stanford."

"Yea?"

"I think...we'll in light of some recent events...Stanford you mean the world to me."

"uh-oh is something wrong? why are you getting all sappy?"

you took another breath and exhaled all the words you were trying to say.

"Stanford pines I think I'm in love with you and I think you feel the same way about me!" you covered your mouth after you spilled it all. and he stared at you in shock. "Y/n...I uh..."

"I know this is random...buy. You know better late than never, right?"

stan stared at you in awe where your eyes sparkling in the starlight. was this really happening to him right now?

"Stanford?" you placed a hand over his when went silent. normally he would jump at an opportunity like this. sweep you off your feet. But as he stared at your hopeful eyes all he could do was wonder how much of what you felt was really for him, Stanley Pines and how much of it was for who you had believed him to be.

"Oh come on Grunkle stan! Take her on a date already!" Mables voice shouted from above you.

"Mable? what are you doing up!?" you shouted standing to your feet to look up at the twins practically hanging out their window. "yea c'mon Grunkle stan!" dipper agreed with his sister.

"Date! Date! date!" the two kids cheered into the night air.

"alright! alright!" stan said trying to shush them.

"y/n...would you do me the honors of going to dinner with me?" you laughed and his heart swelled at your answer. "Of course Stanford pines."

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

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#ford pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #stan pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #Stanley pines x reader

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moonlightazriel · 1 year ago

Text

Love Sick ///Aemond X F!Reader

Summary: Alys Rivers had a vision about the prince’s arrivals, using her charm to lure him, she haven’t anticipated you, his new wife. So a little something might help him see who he truly belongs.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 1,8K

Notes: I have read a lot of love potions fics and decided to give it a try. So here we are.

Main Masterlist

Alys Rivers always had visions, the flames would always tell her their secrets, this made it easier for her to survive. Yet, one vision kept appearing for her, a Targaryen Prince, dressed in his battle gears, long silvery hair tied to his back, a scar across his beautiful face.

She anticipated his arrival at Harrenhal way before it was even decided he should go. So when she heard the roar high in the skies, and saw the huge dragon landing in her home, she knew her time had come.

She had tended to him since he stepped his foot in Harrenhal, preparing his bath, serving his food, and occasionally flirting with him, she noticed how he looked at her, she was a pretty woman, long black hair and emerald green eyes, she was sure that it would just take a couple of days and he would fall for her.

Whoever, what Alys Rivers haven’t seen in her visions, was the Baratheon beauty arriving a week later. Lord Borros' third daughter, known for her breathtaking looks and even more impressive brain.

Lady Baratheon strolled through the front door, guards behind her as she walked through Harrenhal. And Alys watched with horror as the woman entered the dining room, giving a little smile to the Prince before slowly making her way towards him.

“Lord Husband.” She greeted, kissing his cheek and squeezing his shoulders, Aemond gave her a small nod and gestured for her to join him.

“How was your journey, my lady?” He inquired as the servers prepared her a plate, she politely thanked the maid before taking a piece of green bean with her fork.

“Quite exhausting, I am happy to finally settle down.” She bites her food. “Your dear mother was right, it feels good to be away from the Keep.” Aemond chuckled.

“Do not remind me of all that chaos.” She smiled at him, Alys kept in the corner watching the exchange in silent anger.

“Queen Helaena sent her greetings to you, my dear.” He held her hand.

“Did she talk to you?” Y/N nodded.

“Just a few words, but she seems better.” Helaena was still grieving the loss of her children in the hands of Daemon’s assassins.

“More wine, my Prince?” Alys intervened, her voice low and sensual, the prince turned his eyes to her, lifting his goblet. She could be his wife, but Alys knew what desire looked like, perhaps the prince just needed a little help.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Prince Aemond was in his study room, book in hands as he took some time off. Alys knocked, hearing his powerful voice commanding her inside.

“I brought some tea, my prince.” She placed the mug with the hot tea on his desk.

A simple love potion, she knew that he had feelings for her, so this would simply amplify them, make them so unbearable that he wouldn’t have any other choice than to go looking for her. He would claim her as his, as it should’ve been.

Alys excused herself, going straight to her room in the servants wing, she needed to get ready for when Aemond Targaryen knocked on her door and took her in his arms.

She had cleaned her room, and then, took a long shower, rubbing a scented soap on her skin, making herself look flawless. She sat on the bed and waited for him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N brushed her hair, Harrenhal was quite hot, so she asked the maid to run her a bath, she didn’t plan on leaving her chambers, so a silky nightgown covered her body while she took care of her hair.

The door was abruptly opened, making her jump in her seat. Her husband, without his coat and with four buttons of his linen shirt open, looked at her, a smirk on his lips as he entered the room.

“You know, dear wife?” He closed the door, walking towards her. “It was always you, when I went to Storm's End that day, it was you I had in mind.” His tone was slow, like he had been drinking.

He grabbed her hand, removing the brush and placing it on the desk. His other hand brushed her shoulder, pulling the straps down just a little.

“So beautiful, such a smooth skin. I know I had to have you.” He pulled her up, spinning her around until she was facing him, her hands splayed on his chest while he held her close by the waist. “You smell so good.” The prince said, smelling the skin of her neck.

Y/N felt her cheeks flushed at the attention, heating pooling in between her legs, forcing her to close them for some friction, as Aemond started to kiss her neck.

His touch was delicate, his lips cold against her hot skin. Kissing, licking and biting, making her whimper at the sensation spreading across her body.

“A-Aemond.” She half spoke half moaned, making the prince grow impossibly harder, his cock painfully restrained by his pants.

“You sound divine when you moan my name.” He said, getting away from her and walking towards the bed. He sat down, still looking at her, his shirt was messy and fully opened now. “Come here, my dear wife.” She made a move to walk to him but he stopped her. “Take it off.” He ordered.

She shivered as she saw the lust on his gaze, with shaking fingers, she undone the laces holding her nightgown in place, letting it pool at her feet, standing there completely bare to his hungry eye. His pink tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he eyed her up and down.

“You’re a goddess, I cannot wait to see you choke on my cock.” He grabbed her hand as she got close, pulling her straight to his lap. He kissed her, tongue exploring her mouth, hands cupping her ass.

She reached for the eyepatch, throwing across the room, she hated that damned thing, covering his beauty from her.

“You’re so beautiful, my prince.” She breathed, his lips attached to her breasts. Sucking the nipple in his mouth and moving his tongue in circles, making her squirm in his lap, brushing his hard cock.

He squeezed her flash, kissed her like he was going to die in the next second, and she moved her hips against his clothed cock, making it very hard to keep controlled. He never felt that kind of lust before, but he was ready to give in.

Y/N got up, and slowly kneeled in front of him, she had heard the ladies in court talking about the pleasures the mouth could bring to a husband, and despite the lack of experience, she wanted to try.

She reached for his belt, removing it and opening his pants, he lifted his hips just enough for her to slide all the pieces of clothes he was wearing down, freeing his dripping cock from its cage.

She swallowed hard, hesitantly grabbing it in her hands, earning a hiss from him. She moved her hand up and down, slowly, taking encouragement in his groans, the pleasure growing in him as she gently stroked him.

In a more bold move, she lowered her head, giving it a lick in the tip, Aemond shivering as she did so, she looked at him, giving him a small smile that could be the death of him. Then, she took him in her mouth, bobbing her head and masturbating what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. Aemond closed his eyes, buckling his hips and enjoying the sounds of her choking on his cock whenever she went too deep.

She hummed, sending vibrations down his cock, making his balls tight and the orgasm wash over him, his cock twitching, sending hot cum down her throat. She removed her mouth, coughing a little.

“You look so beautiful, kneeling in front of me.” He praised, his thumb caressing her cheek, making her blush as he looked at her. “Allow me.” He said, pulling her up and laying her down.

He got in between her legs, his breath fanning over her hot core, he circled the back of her legs, squeezing her skin and pulling her thighs apart. Smirking at her glistening cunt, he sank there, lapping at her folds, collecting all of her juice as she arched her back, moaning his name like a prayer.

He kissed her clit, rubbing circles with his tongue, making her see stars. Freeing one of his hands, he inserted two fingers inside her cunt, pumping them inside and out, in the same ruthless pace as his tongue. She moaned his name loudly enough to echo around the walls, feeling the knot in her belly grow until it was ready to snap. Driving her over the edge, her walls clenching around his fingers and closing her shaking legs around his head.

Aemond smirked against her, feeling her recover from her orgasm, he looked at her, sweat coating her forehead and panting, her chest moving up and down rapidly.

“Do you want more, my goddess?” She looked at him, smirking at her like the devil and she nodded. In a second, Aemond was on top of her, without any clothes and his cock ready for a second round.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Alys tapped in the bed frame, growing restless as the potion should be working in this exact moment but Aemond was nowhere to be seen. She got up, grabbing a robe and sliding it over her shoulders.

She walked towards the Prince chambers, forcing the door open just a little, she gasped as she peeked inside.

Lady Baratheon was facing the door, her eyes closed and mouth slacked open as she moaned loudly for him. “Do not stop!” She begged, her voice hoarse from all the screaming.

She was on all fours, her ass high in the air as Prince Aemond pounded inside her from behind, moving so fast that her breasts bounced back and forth.

Alys wanted to move but she was rooted in place, the potion had clearly worked but with the wrong person.

“Please, Aemond. I am going to cum.” She whined, and the prince pulled her hair behind, forcing her to look at him.

“And i am going to stuff you full with my heirs, make you swell with my seed and birth my children.” His tone so raw that Alys felt her cheeks hot in embarrassment, Lady Baratheon moaned his name, her body convulsing as her orgasm crashed down on her again, followed by him spilling inside her.

Alys watched as the prince removed himself from inside her, his hands stuffing his cum back inside her cunt. “I love you.” He breathed, pulling her by the hair again and kissing her with all he had.

“I love you too.” She replied, face flush red as she tried to recover from the amazing sex.

Alys walked backwards, running away from the scene, knowing that no matter what she did, she could never break the bond the two shared.

#prince aemond #aemond x y/n #house of the dragon aemond #aemond #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #moonlightazriel #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic

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shockercoco · 11 months ago

Text

Little Do You Know

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - none just fluff

Word count - 1144

a/n - request: "I have a request. I was think about when Austin was in Budapest filming Dune II and reader showing him or the whole crew (Timothee, Zendaya, Florence) around the city in their free time and Austin gets a crush on the reader and the crew teases him about it" - hopefully i fulfilled your vision :)

“You need to get out of this place, you know, get some fresh air,” you tell Austin as you stand in front of him.

He was currently reclining on the lounge chair in front of you reading Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. The book was literally centuries old, but somehow it caught his attention.

“I went out with you guys earlier,” he says referring to you and Florence, his eyes still attached to the book.

“That was for breakfast, and afterwards we came straight back here. I’m talking about just getting out and walking around to explore. This is your first time in Budapest, do you really want to spend your days off from filming surrounded by four walls all day?”

“It’s no use, he’s been stuck in that position all day,” you hear Florence say. Florence was sitting out on the condo’s balcony – it had been rented to the three of you for the duration of filming Dune. She swivels her chair around to join the conversation currently happening inside.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” you glance at her before looking back at Austin. “This is unacceptable. You have plenty of time to read, the book isn’t going anywhere.”

“And Budapest isn’t going anywhere either, we’re going to be here for a while,” Austin looks up at you while he speaks, but immediately looks back down at his book when he’s done.

You scoff before you snatch the book out of his hands and hold it behind your back.

He lets out a big sigh and says, “really?”

Austin looks over at Florence as if he was silently asking for help, but she says, “I’m not on your side.”

He laughs at her statement before looking up at you. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to say something.

“I guess…I can take a break,” he finally says.

You smile and hand his book back to him, before turning around and heading to your room to change. This causes you to miss the smile he gives you back and the way he stares at you as you walk away. Florence notices, though, but she already knew about his crush on you. It was the main reason he caved in so quickly.

What everyone doesn’t though is his reasoning for not wanting to go out – he doesn’t know how to act around you. When you look up at him he can’t help but smile, he also can’t help the way his neck turns red, but you don’t notice. When you asked him a question and he gave you an answer, he would end up overthinking for the next hour if his response was too long, or wonder if his answer was good enough, or even wonder if he made too much eye contact with you.

“Are you going to tell her, or should I,” she smirks at him as she comes inside from the balcony.

“Don’t you dare,” Austin points at her, and she laughs.

You took responsibility for being the tour guide around the city, this is what you do in all new cities. Anytime it was someone else, you just ended up being in charge in the end, but of course you took suggestions.

“Where to next?” you ask everyone behind you as you look down at the minimap on your phone. Timothee and Zendaya had finished filming for the day and ended up joining you guys on the sightseeing journey.

The sun was setting and you all had just left St. Stephen’s Basilica, or as the locals call it Szent Istvan Bazilika.

“Oh, now you want to ask us?” Timothee jokes from behind you, causing you to turn around to see him smiling at you, Austin standing next to him with his hands in his pockets. You continue walking, but backwards to keep moving.

“Well I wasn’t going to, but I figured it was rude to not hear from the group,” you joke back with a shrug of your shoulders.

“I’m fine with you leading, you’re doing a great job,” Zendaya says from beside you, Florence hums in agreement from the other side of her. You look at Austin for his answer, and he just nods with a grin on his face

“Well thank you, I’m glad my service is appreciated,” you say to no one in particular and then look back at Timothee.

“Do you have a suggestion?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Well since I’m the only one that seems to have a problem, nope,” he laughs and you smile back.

Meanwhile, while you were talking to Timothee, Austin was watching you. He watched the way your face lit up as you joked with Timothee, the light from the sunset reflecting on your face. He watched how the whites of your teeth showed when you smiled and the way your lip gloss made your teeth look even whiter.

When you bumped into someone on accident from you walking backwards, he watched the way you immediately apologized and helped the person pick up their dropped belongings. He saw the embarrassment on your face when you turned back to the group to ask, “So no one was going to tell me that I was going to crash into someone?”

You easily brushed it off and turned around to continue walking, allowing Austin to stare at you as much as you wanted. When he heard you laugh at something Florence said, a grin instantly appeared on his face.

Austin felt Timothee nudge him in his side to get his attention. When he looked over, Timothee leaned in with a smirk to whisper, “you’re making it so obvious, just tell her.”

Austin playfully pushed him away. He did want to tell you, he just didn’t know how to tell you, which he knew was ridiculous because you wouldn’t be the first girl he admitted his feelings to. Another thing holding him back was the thought of you not liking him back and just seeing him as a friend.

What Austin didn't know, though, you had feelings for him too, but you were one of those people who would never admit their feelings first. You getting rejected? No. There was no way you could just move on and pretend like it didn’t happen.

Florence and Zendaya both knew how you felt and kept asking you to tell him because according to them “It’s obvious Austin likes you.” You just thought they were saying that to try and convince you, not knowing it was actually true.

Eventually, Austin would admit his feelings to you when it felt like the right time, and of course you would say yes. When everyone found out that you were dating, you two would have to deal with the endless amount of teasing and ‘I told you so’s’ because little did you both know, the feelings were reciprocated.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfiction #dune part 2 #feyd rautha x reader #dune imagine #austin butler smut

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cappulcino · 2 months ago

Text

Where The Wild Things Rest

Read on AO3

Words: 10,122

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Reader

Summary: See prompt here. You're the keep's master of King's Landing and find yourself under the protection of Brienne of Tarth on a quest for medicinal herbs. When a violent ambush leaves Brienne wounded, you seek refuge in an abandoned shack to treat her wounds and wait out the upcoming storm. One thing leads to another, and Brienne gets cared for in more ways than one.

Tags: Slow burn, smut, mutual pining, soft dom!reader

Trigger warnings: NSFW, description of violence, mentions of injuries and blood, graphic description of nudity and explicit sexual content (minors DNI)

A/N: If you're interested, you can find the link to the playlist I listened to while writing here.

"Honestly, Ser, I'm perfectly capable of fetching a few herbs on my own. I doubt the Kingswood has become a den of outlaws overnight."

With one hand resting firmly on the hilt of her sword, Brienne stood unwavering by the gate and her horse, her eyes not unkind but uncompromising on you. You were about to leave the city and had found her there, waiting for you. Apparently, the King himself had asked her to accompany you on your journey, and she would not budge.

"Many refugees and former soldiers have turned to theft and smuggling after the war I'm told, and the forest is less predictable than you'd think."

"I suppose I cannot convince you," you tried.

"No. My orders were clear," Brienne insisted with a firm shake of her head before she buckled her own saddlebag. "His Grace does not want you travelling without a guard."

You sighed, casting a sideways glance toward the treeline where the road to the Kingswood began. You didn't dislike Brienne of Tarth, quite the contrary, but you needed to focus on your mission, and you feared she would be… distracting.

"Well, His Grace worries too much. It'll only be a few bundles of feverfew and willow bark… maybe some yarrow. It's not that valuable and neither am I. The horse is worth more, but–"

"The king believes you are valuable enough, and so do I," Brienne cut you off, taking a brisk step closer. "We have already lost too much. We cannot afford to lose someone with your knowledge and skills. Not now."

She paused briefly and avoided your gaze as she spoke her next words, her voice mellowing ever so slightly.

"Or ever."

You put your hands on your hips and, again, looked into the distance, considering your options.

"Thieves, you say?"

"And smugglers. They might find you an easy target."

You gasped and raised your eyebrows at that statement, only half-feigning the offence showing on your face.

"I did not mean to call you weak," Brienne quickly rectified. "But with your hands full and your attention elsewhere, anyone could come from behind to attack you."

Brienne had a point. You tended to get quite absorbed by any task you undertook and crouching down to pick the herbs wouldn't exactly put you in the best position to retaliate and defend yourself should someone come at you. Still, you didn't understand why the King had appointed his best knight to this mission.

"Very well," you said. "I give up."

You pulled yourself up on your horse and went through the gate, and, from the outer corner of your eye, you saw Brienne letting out a soft exhale. Her apparent relief made you smirk, and you suddenly found yourself thinking that perhaps her company wouldn't be so bad.

For the first hour or so, you both rode in a silence interrupted only by bird songs, your horses' hoofbeats, and the metallic sounds of Brienne's armour. For some reason, she was riding a couple paces behind you and had not uttered a single word since you had left King's Landing.

So you took a halt and turned your horse around to face her, and Brienne, apparently too caught up in her thoughts, almost didn't notice you were no longer advancing and stopped abruptly, a mere pace away from you.

The face she made then and the way she quickly made her horse step back pulled the corner of your lips up once more.

"If we are to spend the day together, we might as well ride side by side," you said. "And maybe talk, get to know each other a little?"

Brienne blinked.

"We have known each other for months already," she replied, furrowing her brow.

"Correction: I know your name and you know mine, I have repaired your armour twice, you constantly refuse the ointments I make for the knights' wounds, and we exchange banalities regarding the keep's security when we cross paths. This is not what qualifies as knowing someone."

Brienne shifted her weight in her saddle, somewhat uncomfortable.

"There isn't much to say."

"Oh, I beg to differ. One cannot become the first female knight of all Westeros, first Lady Commander of the Kingsguard, and say she has no stories to tell."

"My stories have already travelled further and faster across the country than I have."

You weren't sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes at her reluctance to share the slightest bit of information.

"They have indeed," you confirmed. "And I have listened to each of them with great interest. But perhaps you wish to tell me your own version of those accounts, or to share stories yet unknown?"

"I would only be boring you, I'm afraid."

That was it; you rolled your eyes and resumed riding. Brienne could be stubborn as a mule if she wanted, and you couldn't waste the entire day trying to make her understand that you were, in fact, very much interested in anything she would be willing to say.

Brienne stayed frozen in place behind you a couple seconds, trying to make sense of your sudden wish to bond with her before she ordered her horse to catch up with yours in a quick trot, making her armour clank loudly as it did so.

"I don't understand why you would want to get to know me better," she said, now riding to your right.

You snorted softly.

"Evidently."

"An hour ago, you didn't want me around."

"I merely said I didn't need your protection." You glanced sideways at Brienne, and she looked rather disappointed by your constant dismissal, so you quickly added, "But since you must be here, why shouldn't we try to make it enjoyable for us both?"

When Brienne said nothing, you fully turned your head to face her. But she looked away, pretending to survey your surroundings for your safety, and you understood she didn't believe you could truly enjoy her company. The realisation made your heart clench harder than it should.

"Ser Podrick Payne was right," you muttered after a moment of silence.

Brienne's eyes skewered you. She had spent a long time with Podrick back when he was her squire, and she had opened up to him in ways she had rarely done with others. The idea that he could have betrayed her trust and repeated things she didn't want you to know made her blood boil.

"What did he say?" she asked in a clipped voice.

Your expression softened and you offered Brienne a small smile, trying to let her know that she didn't have to worry. Ser Podrick Payne would be the last knight to speak ill of her.

"That you wear more than one armour. And it's a shame."

Again, Brienne didn't reply to your comment. But you saw the crease between her eyebrows relax ever so slightly, and it gave you enough hope that, by the end of the day, she would trust you enough to let you in.

Another hour had passed, and you were now in the Kingswood, keeping your eyes peeled for the herbs you needed to gather.

Brienne still hadn't spoken much, but your genuine softness towards her had somewhat appeased her and you had been pleasantly surprised to find out that while she wasn't one to talk about herself so much, she could be a good listener –one who seemed keen on hearing about anything you had to say.

And so, in the past hour, you had answered many of her questions and told her about your childhood –what you remembered of it, at least–, where you had learnt about the duties of a keep's master, how the King had come to appoint you. And Brienne listened to each reply, with great intent, it seemed.

"Look, feverfew," you said, suddenly putting an end to your monologue.

Brienne followed your gaze and noticed the little white flowers blooming by the trail, right where the sunlight filtered through the trees.

"There is never enough of it in our inventory," you added as you pulled on the reins before handing them to Brienne. "Here. Would you hold onto Galewind for me? He likes to run away when I'm not looking."

Brienne gathered her own reins in her right hand before reaching with her left to grab yours. And as you handed over Galewind's reins, your fingers brushed against Brienne's –a fleeting contact, yet enough to make you pause.

You glanced up at her face, momentarily struck by the unexpected tenderness of the touch while Brienne's eyes flicked down to where your fingers had touched her hand, her expression unreadable. She shifted slightly in her saddle, her lips parting as though to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she only nodded, assuring you your horse was in good hands.

"Thank you. He can be stubborn," you said as you dismounted before clearing your throat in an attempt to chase the awkwardness away.

"Of course," Brienne replied, her tone uncharacteristically soft.

You walked to the feverfew and knelt down to examine the flowers, but your mind lingered on that moment. True, you had "known" Brienne for a while now, yet she remained as much an enigma up close as the stories had painted her from afar. But with what had just happened, you considered for the first time how much strength and gentleness seemed to coexist in her –and you weren't entirely sure she wanted others to notice that other side of her.

From behind, you could feel her eyes on you, watchful and cautious, as if she were guarding more than just your back. A flicker of something stirred in your chest, but you pushed it aside. There were herbs to gather, and you didn't have time for silly, fleeting thoughts –not now, anyway.

A couple of hours later, you had already gathered quite a good amount of herbs and were enjoying the slow ride along the trail when the soft sound of rushing water caught your attention. Glancing toward the noise, you spotted a narrow stream cutting through the trees. At first, you only admired how the water glittered in the sunlight. But then your eyes honed in on a cluster of tall plants nestled on the far bank.

"Motherwort," you murmured, almost to yourself, before halting. "That's a rare find."

You then turned towards Brienne as she stopped beside you and winked at her.

"Perhaps it is you bringing me luck. I shall take you with me more often."

"What is it used for?" Brienne asked to create a diversion from your comment –though the brief clenching of her jaw and the faint blush on her cheeks seemed to indicate you had actually hit the target.

"Oh, many things if you know how to prepare it. But mainly female health."

Brienne nodded in a detached way as if she didn't even feel concerned, and you went back to the matter at hand.

"But it's on the other side of the stream and at this time of year, that water is freezing. I'd rather not risk crossing."

Brienne tilted her head.

"Why not have Galewind jump it? He would clear it."

"Not without trampling the herbs," you pointed out, stroking your horse's neck. "Besides, he has a habit of… misjudging his landings."

Brienne arched an eyebrow in a somewhat judgemental manner, wondering why you insisted on riding this colt if he had that many flaws. This time, you were the one ignoring her and you turned back to the stream, trying to think of another solution.

"We'll have to find a way across."

Brienne's expression shifted, her eyes scanning the area before landing on a large fallen tree a few paces away. She pointed at it.

"What about that?"

You blinked.

"The trunk? Ser, that thing must weigh more than both of us combined."

But Brienne had already dismounted, her boots crunching on the damp soil as she walked toward the tree with purpose.

"I'll manage."

You watched, half in awe, as she planted her feet and bent down to grip the log. Her arms strained, muscles shifting under her tunic and armour, yet she dragged the trunk closer to the stream swiftly and made it look almost effortless, rotating it until one end caught against the bank.

"That should hold," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face and staining her pale forehead with a bit of dirt. "I'll cross first."

You kept looking at her as she stepped onto the log with care. The wood creaked under her weight, but she moved steadily, her balance precise. When she reached the other side, she turned back and gestured.

"Your turn."

You still hadn't dismounted and hesitated. Brienne could leave her mare without a care in the world, but you had had to chase Galewind too many times to do the same without worry.

"I told you my horse liked to wander off."

"He's grazing," Brienne pointed out. "He'll be fine for five minutes."

You sighed, reluctantly getting off your saddle and stepping onto the makeshift bridge. The bark was slippery from the recent rain, and the rushing water below only made it harder to concentrate.

About halfway across, you noticed Brienne offering a hand and you looked up. But the sight of her muscular silhouette waiting for you made you lose what little focus you had left since that fortuitous skin contact, and your foot slipped, causing a yelp to escape your lips.

Before you could topple, the same firm hand grabbed your arm. Brienne hauled you upright with ease, pulling you against her steel-covered chest. Your heart was still pounding as you looked up at her to find her eyes filled with concern.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice once again unusually soft.

"Just my pride," you muttered, realising how your hands had instinctively gripped her shoulders for balance. "Thank you."

Brienne's lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile and her hand lingered on your arm a moment longer than necessary before she seemed to realise what she was doing and let go of you.

"Well, go on, then. The herbs."

"Uhm, yes. Of course."

You took a step back, re-establishing a proper distance between the two before you went and crouched by the patch of motherwort, carefully snipping the stems and placing them into your satchel.

"We should follow the stream," you said on your way back to your horse –which, thankfully, had deemed the grass much more interesting than running away. "Many herbs that I need grow where the soil is wetter. Then maybe we can stop somewhere to rest for a bit. You brought something to eat, yeah?" You asked, not wanting to waste time hunting.

"I did."

"Good. Then let's go. And, well… Thank you again for not letting me fall, Ser."

"You're welcome," Brienne said, visibly content to be of some help to you. "And if it pleases you… Brienne's enough."

The stream widened into a river ahead, its current rippling faster over smooth stones. On the banks, the graceful bows of willow trees dipped toward the stream, their leaves fluttering like whispers in the breeze. You tugged on Galewind's reins and pointed to a flat patch of grass beneath one of the trees.

"We should stop here. I need some willow bark, and the rocks will make decent seats."

Brienne agreed and dismounted with ease, then cast a practised eye around the clearing before securing her horse to a sturdy branch. You followed her lead, double-checking Galewind's knot.

"No escapade this time. Right, big boy?"

From your satchel, you pulled out two modest bundles wrapped in cloth. Brienne joined you as you settled on a smooth rock close to the river's edge. The air wasn't too chilly when the wind calmed down and it carried the faint scent of damp earth and leaves that had decomposed during winter. For a moment, the two of you sat quietly, the sound of the rushing river filling the space between.

Then, breaking the silence, you gestured to Brienne's meal.

"What'd you bring?"

Brienne unwrapped her bundle: strips of dried meat, a hunk of bread, and a slice of cheese. She glanced at yours, which displayed colourful slices of carrots and radishes nestled beside cured meat.

"If that's not a proper knight's meal…" you teased lightly, breaking your bread.

Brienne didn't reply, but her lips twitched –an almost-smile that warmed you more than you cared to admit.

You looked up to see movement on the opposite bank. A magnificent deer had emerged from the undergrowth, its antlers rising like branches. Its coat was sleek and golden, catching the sunlight in a way that seemed almost unreal.

"Look at that," you breathed, leaning forward. "Isn't he magnificent?"

Brienne lifted her head, her expression impassive as she studied the creature.

"He'd make good stew," she said matter-of-factly.

You blinked, startled, before a loud, genuine laugh escaped you.

"You cannot possibly look at that majestic creature and think... stew!"

Brienne's straightforwardness, combined with the absolute seriousness in her tone, was too endearing to be frustrating.

"Do you see beauty in anything at all? Or just potential dinner?" you asked as your laughter slowly died.

Brienne's brow furrowed, and for a moment, you thought you'd offended her. But then she spoke, her voice quieter than before.

"My father had a fondness for deer. He liked how graceful, quiet, and watchful they were." She looked back toward the forest, her expression softening. "He also said does reminded him of my mother." A pause. Then, almost to herself: "I never knew her well enough to say if he was right. I never knew her at all."

The unexpected vulnerability caught you off guard. You held your breath, not wanting to disturb the moment. For once Brienne dared to talk, so you would let her. Her gaze remained on the deer, now grazing on the other side of the river.

"Once, when I was little, he found a fawn tangled in some brambles. It must have been abandoned, it was too weak to fight. He carried it home and we tended to it for weeks, feeding it by hand. He told me he wanted to teach me the gentleness my mother could no longer teach me and how to care for the weak. He said even the smallest life deserved consideration."

You kept staring at her, struck by the tenderness in her voice.

"What happened to the fawn?" you asked softly.

"It got strong enough to run." Brienne shrugged, her expression hardening slightly. "One day, it left. I suppose it went back to the forest."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The deer on the far bank raised its head, as though sensing your attention, before darting gracefully into the woods. Brienne turned back to her meal, the shutters of her composure sliding back into place.

"That was a long time ago," she said as she briefly shook her head, her tone almost dismissive. "And then my father taught me how to fight instead."

You wanted to say something, maybe tell her both her parents would be proud of the woman, the knight she had become. That, in a way, she still took care of the weak. But the words felt too heavy for the moment, so you swallowed them.

Instead, your gaze fell back to her meal and you decided to try to lift the spirits.

"You know, I don't see a single vegetable in there," you said, a teasing lilt in your voice. "Here, have this."

You plucked a bright chunk of carrot from your bundle and held it out to her. Sensing her confusion, you insisted, jerking the vegetable in her direction.

"They make you loveable, you know."

Brienne frowned.

"Loveable?"

"Absolutely. People see you munching on a carrot, and they think, 'There's someone approachable.'"

Brienne stared at you, her lips parting slightly as though to protest, but then the words tumbled out. Now she was offended.

"I don't suppose I seem approachable to most," she said as she snatched the piece of carrot from your hand and glanced away, her voice stiff. "I try to be better, more gentle. Like my father first wanted me to be. But... I'm just not."

You blinked, surprised by the sudden confession.

"Brienne, I–"

She barrelled on, as if afraid to let you interrupt.

"I'm too blunt. Too hard. Pod was right about what he told you. And since travelling with him, I've tried to be better. I've tried with many people, but… Maybe if I were different, I–"

"Brienne, stop."

Your voice was soft but firm, and it made her pause. You leaned closer, meeting her gaze.

"You don't have to change. Not for anyone. You're perfectly fine as is."

Her expression faltered, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes.

"You don't mean that. No one–"

"But I do. I like you. Just the way you are." You said it simply, but the conviction in your tone made Brienne gawk at you, stunned into silence.

Only then did you notice the smudge of dirt on her forehead. It made you smile.

"But if you do want to change one thing, maybe start with that dirt on your face."

Her hand shot up as her cheeks turned crimson, and she awkwardly wiped at her forehead. But instead of cleaning it, she only managed to smear the dirt even further. You chuckled, pulling a cloth from your satchel.

"Here, let me."

"I'm fine."

"Clearly… Now stop whining, and let me help."

You reached up, the cloth brushing her skin as you wiped the dirt away. She stilled under your touch, her eyes locked on yours, and the air between you suddenly grew heavy with unspoken things.

In the silence that followed, your gaze lingered. Brienne had always appeared to you as striking in her own way –an unpolished charm she seemed intent on hiding beneath layers of stoicism and practicality. But here, now, with the golden sunlight catching in the loose strands of her hair and the silver gleam of the water reflected in her eyes, she looked... ethereal.

It wasn't just her appearance that caught you, though that alone was enough to leave you momentarily breathless. It was that, for the first time, she felt closer, not the distant figure of knightly legend but a woman, warm and real, and achingly human.

Your thoughts wandered to places you hadn't allowed them to go before. Had they been there all along, quietly waiting, or was this the first time you truly left your mind unbridled? Either way, you found it impossible to look away, and something deep in your chest stirred, a pang you didn't want to understand but couldn't ignore.

But then came the sound of snapping twigs, interrupting the beauty of the moment. Brienne's head whipped around, and her hand instinctively moved to her sword.

"Someone's here," she muttered, her voice low and sharp.

You both stood up as six men emerged from the trees, their faces covered by hoods or old helmets, their intent clear in the way their hands rested on their weapons. One, slightly older with a jagged scar tracing his jawline, stepped forward.

"Nice horses," he said, his tone almost conversational, though his grin was anything but friendly. "And a nice haul of herbs, too. You've saved us the trouble of finding our own."

He then looked you up and down in a way that repulsed you so much you found yourself shivering and added, "Maybe we'll take that one back to the camp, too. And your money."

"Leave now," Brienne commanded, "and no harm will come to you."

The leader chuckled, glancing at his companions who sniggered as well.

"That's rich, coming from one damsel against men like us. And no helmet? Bold choice."

Brienne's hand tightened on the hilt of her sword, her gaze never leaving the man. She turned her head slightly, just enough to murmur to you, "Get behind those trees and stay out of sight."

"But–"

"Go," she snapped, her tone brooking no argument. "I'll handle this."

Reluctantly, you obeyed, slipping behind a thick oak as the tension in the air snapped like a drawn bowstring.

The scarred leader barely had time to shout an order before Brienne's sword slid out of its scabbard with a metallic hiss.

She surged forward, her blade arcing in a precise downward cut. The man nearest her, wielding a rusted mace, barely raised it in time to block the blow. The force sent him staggering backwards, but Brienne pressed her advantage. She kicked his knee with her boot, sending him to the ground with a cry.

Another man darted in from her right, swinging a short sword. Brienne pivoted, deflecting the strike with her armoured forearm before slashing across his chest. Blood sprayed, and he collapsed.

The youngest of the group, barely more than a boy, took one look at Brienne's bloodied sword and at the two downed companions before turning tail. His cowardice earned him a curse from the leader, who was now advancing on Brienne.

"Get her!" he barked, drawing his own blade.

Brienne turned to face him, but the man she had kicked earlier had regained his feet. With a snarl, he swung his mace into her exposed flank. The dull thud of impact echoed in the clearing as Brienne fell to the ground, her breath catching.

"Brienne!"

From your hiding spot, you watched the fight unfold, your chest tightening with every blow she took. She moved with precision and strength, but there were too many of them. The man's mace strike had slowed her down, and you saw the hesitation in her steps. You gripped the tree bark, your heart pounding and feeling utterly useless.

The leader lunged, and Brienne barely managed to parry his sword in time before slamming her fist repeatedly in his face. Groaning, he reeled back long enough for Brienne to roll them over.

She was about to punch him some more when one of his accomplices grabbed her from behind and pulled her back to her feet, attempting to strangle her. She once again freed herself by pushing her elbow into his ribs before driving her shoulder into his chest and forcefully crushing him between her armour and a tree.

The leader, weakened but still willing, charged at her with his sword. Brienne raised her blade to shield herself from his attack, but the movement left her vulnerable and allowed a fist to crash above her eyebrow. She stumbled, a cut opening and blood trickling into her eye.

Yet, through it all, she didn't stop. She growled, planting her feet and driving the leader back with a series of quick, precise strikes. Her sword then found his thigh, cutting deep. He crumpled to the ground with a scream, clutching the wound.

"Enough, dammit!" He cried out. "We're done!"

One of the others pulled him by the arm and dragged him away followed by the last uninjured men, leaving their fallen comrades groaning in the dirt. Brienne stayed still, her chest heaving, sword raised in readiness until they disappeared into the trees. And then, as though the fight had drained the last of her strength, she dropped her sword and fell to her knees, her breaths ragged.

"Brienne!" you yelled, coming out of your hiding spot to lunge by her side.

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth, attempting to wave you off.

Obviously ignoring that lie, you looped an arm under hers and did your best to haul her upright, the effort straining every muscle. Even without the steel plating, Brienne was solid as stone, and the armour made her nearly impossible to move. You groaned and so did she, her strength faltering as she slumped heavily against you.

The sky that had already turned grey during the fight chose this moment to crack open with rain.

"Of course," you muttered bitterly.

As if getting Brienne back to the horses wasn't hard enough, the rain would soon start to make her armour slippery and you weren't sure you would manage at all.

"Do you think you can get up?" you asked Brienne as you reached her horse.

"Yes…"

But Brienne half-lifted herself before sagging back, too weak to climb.

"It's alright, let me help."

You tried a couple times to lift Brienne up so she could get on her saddle but to no avail. Her armour made her too heavy and her horse was too tall –you lacked the strength to pull her onto a mount so high.

"Seven hells," you cursed when Brienne fell back down for the third time.

"I'm sorry…"

"No. Don't you dare be sorry, Brienne."

Turning around to look at Galewind, you wondered if you should try to get Brienne onto him instead –he was shorter after all.

Galewind's ears flicked toward you and suddenly, as if sensing your desperation, he bent his forelegs to the damp ground and shifted lower.

You barely believed it but had no time to marvel, and promptly guided Brienne to push her onto his back. Her weight nearly sent you sprawling, but this time, you miraculously managed.

"Good boy," you murmured, patting Galewind's neck once Brienne was secured into place. "Hold on, will you?" you told her.

As you hopped on Brienne's horse –which displeased the mare, though she chose not to make a fuss–, you took a second to look at the darkening sky above you and assess the situation. The wind only seemed to bring more charcoal clouds, with no hope for clearing in the distance.

Returning to King's Landing wasn't an option with Brienne in this state, and you wanted to be gone before more men came back for their wounded peers –if they ever did.

Think, you urged yourself. Then you remembered seeing a cabin a league back, just off the path. A forester's or healer's shack, maybe, abandoned but intact enough to provide sufficient shelter.

"Hold on, Brienne," you repeated, as much for yourself as for her, urging the horses forward.

The ride was somewhat gruelling because of the stress it caused you as you saw how Brienne kept swaying dangerously with each step every time you turned around. But Galewind almost seemed to understand he needed to be careful and to have forgotten his fugitive tendencies. Your heart ached for Brienne, perhaps in disproportionate measures, but you had no time to think about this now.

By the time you reached the cabin, the rain was a steady downpour, soaking through your cloak and threatening to make Brienne slip off the saddle. So you pulled both horses to a halt and dismounted with haste to help her down.

She leaned heavily on you, her breaths laboured, as the two of you staggered toward the door. Kicking it open, you guided her to the straw bed there was thankfully still inside. She slumped onto it with a groan, her head lolling back as exhaustion overtook her.

"Stay with me," you ordered in a whisper as you brushed a strand of wet hair from her face before running back out to get your satchels and herbs.

You felt guilty for leaving the horses out in such weather, they could get seriously sick. But you had no choice and other priorities –well, one priority.

Back in the shack, you moved with purpose, thoughts reeling as you began to work.

"First things first, fire," you said, needing to enunciate everything you were doing to keep your mind from wandering back to the feelings Brienne had strangely ignited inside you.

You noticed a pile of firewood under a dirty cloth next to the stone hearth and threw a few logs into it. The air was damp for the rain, and your fingers fumbled over the tinder you had also found nearby. It took quite a good amount of tries, but finally sparks caught, flames flickered, and the fire took.

"Good."

As you rummaged to find something to put some water to boil, you couldn't help but keep glancing at Brienne, slumped on the straw bed. You were worried sick for her.

"No sleeping yet, Brienne. You hear me?"

Brienne didn't answer and it got you even more worried, but you kept working.

At last, you found a stewpot and a clay basin.

"Perfect."

It wasn't ideal, but you decided the quickest way to gather water. You would boil it anyway so it would be drinkable. So you took the stewpot outside and left it there. As you did so, your eyes landed on a patch of stinging nettle. You decided it could be useful and harvested a few handfuls.

Back inside once more, you grabbed the satchels you had brought in, pulling out the gathered herbs that you methodically placed on the dusty table next to the stinging nettle.

You glanced at Brienne once more, and her pallor was far from reassuring. But then again, she had always had an extremely fair complexion –one of the things you found most beautiful about her.

Your heart ached to see her like this, though you were silently commending her for defending you against those thieves. She had fought so hard, so bravely… Those men had never stood a chance –in your eyes anyway.

"Brienne…" you called out softly as you approached the bed she was lying on.

"I'm fine."

"You are anything but."

"You worry too much."

Brienne's voice was hoarse so you walked back to the table to grab your flask in your bag. You had almost no water left, but Brienne needed to drink.

"Open up," you urged, slipping an arm under her shoulders to lift her. "Don't make me pour it down your throat."

Your tone –half-teasing, half-desperate– made Brienne huff, enough to let you tip the flask against her lips. She drank sluggishly but obediently, her eyelids fluttering as her body resisted consciousness. Then you laid her back down gently.

"Will you let me take off your armour? You can't breathe properly like this."

Brienne nodded weakly and you moved tentatively to undo the straps of her armour. But your hands were shaking and you found yourself struggling, until a rugged hand reached for yours, brushing almost tenderly against your fingers.

"Leave it," Brienne rasped. "I can do it."

You weren't so sure about that but let Brienne work out those straps. It was embarrassing for you as you were supposed to know how to deal with that kind of equipment, and your cheeks slightly turned pink. You counted on the dark and Brienne's poor state to hide the blush.

Brienne pulled on the straps and they seemed to fall right off. You cleared your throat and thanked her with a silent nod as she let her arms fall back on the bed. Then you started by removing her gorget, pauldrons, and rerebraces, setting each piece down nearby with care.

The cuirass' turn then came, and you couldn't help but wince in sympathy when you heard Brienne hiss.

"Sorry…" you muttered, though you knew the word wouldn't help.

Brienne shook her head as if to dismiss your apology and groaned through gritted teeth, her fingers clutching her arming doublet. You quickly understood that her abdomen was injured and that any heavy layer caused discomfort. So you took the padded jacket off as well and folded it into a makeshift pillow for Brienne.

"Better?"

"Yes."

With that done, you decided to let Brienne rest for a moment and got back to work. First, you retrieved the stewpot from outside, now brimming with rainwater, and set it over the fire. Once the water was finally boiling, you scooped some into the clay basin and set it aside. Some of the water would be used for a willow bark and stinging nettle decoction, and some for a comfrey poultice. The latter would help with the bruising, the former was for pain relief. Yarrow would help with the bleeding, too.

You crushed the willow bark and stinging nettle between your fingers and sprinkled them into the stewpot with practised precision. You let the mixture simmer and moved on to the comfrey root, crushing it into a thick paste in the clay basin with the handle of your dagger. Finally, you sat at the old table to pluck the yarrow leaves you needed from the stems.

It was only as you caught yourself staring at the remedies that you realised Brienne's breathing had slowed down.

"Hey, no, no, no!" you commanded as you rushed back to her side. "I said no sleeping yet."

"I'm only resting my eyes."

"Later. When I'm sure you're alright."

Brienne shifted a bit to be more comfortable then and hissed again, her face contorting as she grabbed her stomach. You had to take a look.

"Alright. Uh, Brienne…" you said, your voice much softer now, almost a whisper. "I have to check your wounds. And your tunic… It has to come off, or I cannot treat you properly."

Brienne's brow furrowed faintly and she turned her head away from you, stubbornness lingering despite her exhaustion.

"Please, Brienne," you insisted, your fingers now hovering hesitantly near the hem of her tunic. "I will only do what's necessary. Nothing more, I swear."

A long moment passed before she gave the faintest nod, and you pulled the fabric up and away, trying to keep your touch clinical despite the sudden heat rising to your cheeks. You expected another layer beneath, but there was only bandaging, tightly wound around her chest and soaked with blood. Practical, efficient, and utterly intimate in a way you hadn't anticipated. Your breath hitched and you looked away immediately, your face now crimson.

As keep master, you spent many hours a week in the infirmary and had seen many people in various stages of undress. But for some reason you had yet to understand –or rather, yet to admit to yourself–, it all felt much different with Brienne.

"I-Is that… from an older wound?" you stammered, pointing at the blood stain on Brienne's ribs.

Brienne followed your gaze.

"Yes."

"We… We'll deal with those later."

You took a deep breath in to compose yourself, and let your eyes roam as professionally as you could over Brienne's body trying to assess her injuries, then tentatively brought trembling fingers to her bruises, starting with those on her collarbones. Thankfully, they weren't broken and nor were the ribs above her breasts either, so you moved on, checking her arms and hands from every angle. You could feel Brienne trying to keep her body limp, abandoning herself to your expert hands, trusting you completely.

Once you were certain she had no broken bones or dislocated limbs, you carefully let your fingers slide over her abdomen, stopping here and there to apply gentle pressure and check for deeper damage, and wincing at every hiss she couldn't suppress.

Eventually, you reached Brienne's hips and lower abdomen, and she flinched and let out a soft gasp when your fingers dipped right between her navel and pelvis. You froze and your eyes shot up, meeting Brienne's for a brief instant –a fleeting second that still felt like an eternity– before turning away.

"Did that hurt?"

"No, not really," Brienne replied, her voice low and still roughened by fatigue. "Carry on."

You nodded, willing yourself to stay focused, then went and retrieved a piece of cloth from your bag –you always had a few, just in case– and plunged it in hot water before coming back to sit by Brienne's side on the straw bed.

"I need to clean those wounds before I can treat them."

Brienne took a sharp, shaky breath as if needing to compose herself, too, and you began gently cleaning the cuts and scrapes on her hands and face. She had one particular cut over her left eyebrow that you knew would need more than one yarrow leaf. You dabbed at it and, as you did so, glanced at her eyes again. With the flames that danced in the hearth lighting up her face, they looked like clear skies pierced by a winter's sunset. You were captivated, bewitched. But you cast those thoughts aside –now wasn't the time.

Pulling away, you went to fetch the processed herbs, then made her drink a bit of decoction and sat down again before busying yourself with applying the poultice.

"This will help with the bruising," you explained needlessly, now avoiding Brienne's gaze.

"You're kind. Too kind, perhaps," she suddenly said.

You glanced up, startled by the softness in her tone.

"You would do the same for me."

"Aye. But not with such… tenderness."

With the way your heartbeat quickened and each breath seemed harder to take than the previous one, you felt as if the air had considerably thickened.

Searching for a safer ground, you added, "Tenderness is the least I can offer someone who has risked everything for me. Besides, we cannot afford to lose someone with your knowledge and skills. Not now. Not ever."

The words managed to make Brienne smile faintly. But the corners of her mouth quickly fell back down when she noticed you setting the poultice aside and glancing at her bandages. She knew what your expression meant.

"I… I need to check that wound, too. I don't want it to get infected," you said, confirming her thoughts. "May I…"

Brienne's jaw tightened, but she nodded once more. You carefully unwound the binding, the linen sticking stubbornly to the flesh. She tensed but didn't complain.

Controlling your breathing became harder at the sight of her completely bare chest. Her breasts were small, but you couldn't help the thought crossing your mind that they would fit perfectly in a palm –your palm.

Mentally berating yourself for such a lewd thought in such a grave moment as this one, you gently poked around the reopened scar to see how it was healing. You thought about asking Brienne how she had got it to distract you both from what you were doing, but no words came out, and you figured it was best if she didn't waste her energy anyway.

Leaning over her, your breath tickled her skin lightly and, as you dabbed the wound with the damp cloth, your attention got caught by the goosebumps on her skin and her nipples, peaked and taut in the cool air. You immediately averted your eyes, your face burning once more.

"Are you cold?"

"N-No," Brienne stuttered awkwardly after a while as rosy patches formed on her neck and across her upper chest.

The single syllable hung between you, heavy and impossible to ignore.

"You're so different…" Brienne eventually whispered out of nowhere.

You didn't dare ask what she meant. Instead, you rested a reassuring hand on hers, careful but steady.

"Rest now. I'll be here."

"I thought–"

"Rest. I still need to apply yarrow leaves here and there but you can close your eyes now."

Brienne's eyes drifted shut, and her fingers brushed yours before dropping still. You watched the firelight dance across her face and her chest, rising and falling steadily.

Your thoughts churned as you placed crushed yarrow leaves on her face, scraped knuckles, and chest, and adjusted your cloak as a blanket over her, unable to suppress a silent ache of longing and gratitude. Brienne was strong, stubborn, yet startlingly vulnerable and… well, excruciatingly beautiful in her own, unconventional way.

Truth was, Brienne had always unsettled something deep within you, something you had never dared name. You had told yourself time and time again that it was merely admiration, respect for her strength, her relentless honour. But you would be lying if you said there hadn't been nights when her image had haunted you, unbidden and unrelenting –so much that your mind and hands had gone to forbidden places.

You loved the sharpness of her jaw, the fierce intensity in her eyes, and the way she rode her horse with effortless grace despite her imposing frame. Of course, you had long dismissed such thoughts as impossible, shameful even. And yet, seeing her now –scarred, undeniably her and, above all, naked–, the ache you had buried carved its way back to the surface.

The soft rustling of straw pulled you from your thoughts. Brienne stirred, blinking groggily as her gaze landed on you. You straightened abruptly, anxiously waiting for a reaction. Brienne's brows knit in confusion before she noticed your cloak draped across her bare chest.

"You didn't have to," she said, clutching to the hem of it as if the gesture meant more than she let on. Her expression softened –not quite a smile, but something dangerously close. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I'm not sure," you said, standing up to go fill your flask with more decoction and bring it back to Brienne. As she sipped from it, you added, "I had time to add two other logs to the fire and replace the leaves, though."

Brienne glanced at the dirty window near the bed and hummed. The sun was still hiding behind dark clouds, but what little light filtered through them did at a much different angle than when you had first laid her down.

"I'm sorry I left you alone all that time," she muttered.

"Nonsense. You needed to rest. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Better, much better. Thanks to you."

"I'm glad."

Brienne's gaze lingered on your face with an intensity that made your chest tighten. Determined to regain control, you focused on your task.

"Let me recheck your wounds."

You gently lifted the cloak, mindful to avoid staring at Brienne's breasts again –though her nipples were still deliciously hard– and started cleaning the poultice before inspecting each bruise and scrape with the same care as before.

Brienne kept watching you, smiling ever so slightly at the line that had formed between your eyebrows while you peeled the yarrow leaves off her cuts and scrapes –on her hands first, then on her chest. Finally, you reached for the leaf above her brow. Carefully, you set it aside, then leaned in to examine the cut.

It looked good and had stopped bleeding. But before you could say anything about it, Brienne's hands shot up to cradle your face. She pulled you down firmly then and her lips crashed into yours, fierce, urgent, leaving no room for doubt.

Your breath hitched as Brienne's lips claimed yours, heat surged through you, from your face down to your chest. But then a thought struck like a blade.

So you pulled back, trembling. Not because you didn't want her –you did, you ached for her– but because the world spun too fast. Brienne. Brienne of fucking Tarth… kissing you? You had never dared believe she could want someone like you –or anyone at all, really.

Did she mean this, or was it just a fleeting need, a desperate attempt to feel something other than pain? Was she seeking comfort, something temporary and raw after coming yet again so close to death?

Brienne saw your hesitation and expression twisted painfully, then hardened into something bitter. She scoffed, the sound as sharp as steel grinding on stone.

"Of course," she spat, voice cracking. "Kind words, soft touches… They meant nothing. What was I thinking?"

"Brienne…"

"What an utter fool I am! I should've known. Men mock me, women pity me, even you."

"What? No, I–"

"Don't. You needn't spare my feelings."

"That's not what I–"

"Save it!" Brienne snapped, fists clenched tightly around your cloak. "Everything you have to say, I've heard it all before. I thought maybe, maybe this time… I should have known better."

Before she could retreat deeper into her wounded thoughts, you were the one to crush your lips to hers. She gasped, trembling beneath you and hesitated for a moment, then kissed you back just as hungrily, fingers tangling in your hair like she feared you might vanish. There was no hesitation this time, but though the kiss was passionate, your hands cupped her face delicately and your thumbs brushed over her cheeks as if she were made of glass.

"I wasn't pulling away because I don't want you, Brienne," you confessed when you broke the kiss for air. "I pulled away because I do. More than you know. And I'm scared. Scared that my passion may cause you pain, scared this might not mean what I want it to mean."

Brienne's breath shuddered against your lips as her fingers loosened their desperate grip on your hair, sliding down to your jaw with surprising tenderness. Her eyes searched yours, still wary but now lit with something… alive.

"Do you think I'm not scared, too?" she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. "I've never… I mean, I have but not like this."

"We can take this slowly if you–"

Brienne shook her head impatiently, then tilted her chin so her lips grazed yours.

"I'm tired of not taking what I want. So, if you'll have me…"

"Yes. Gods, yes."

Something inside you snapped. You claimed her mouth in a kiss far deeper, more insistent. You worried about her wounds and feared she might be in pain, but she met you with equal intensity, pulling you down even closer.

Your hands slid down from her face to her shoulders and bruised collarbones, then lower, finding the strong muscles of her arms that had briefly held you up earlier today. You traced them as if committing them to memory, marvelling at the sheer power contained within her tall silhouette.

Brienne shivered under your touch, and a low, involuntary sound rumbled from her throat as your fingers brushed her bare skin. Emboldened, you let one of your hands travel more daringly to the swell of her breast, enjoying how good it indeed felt in your palm. The sound she made in response sent more heat coursing through you, this time pooling in your belly.

For the first time, you were acutely aware of the heat radiating from her skin and the steady thrum of her heartbeat. When she arched her back to press herself against your body, you seized the occasion to let your mouth trail from her mouth to her jawline, then down the column of her neck, nipping and licking at her pulse point, all the while you made her nipple roll under your thumb.

"Please," Brienne begged, though it seemed she wasn't too sure what for.

But you knew.

"I want to see you," you whispered seductively. "All of you. Touch you everywhere I can."

Brienne's only response was a weak groan and a faint roll of her hips. The vulnerability of the gesture, the trust it implied, sent a jolt of arousal through you. Driven by those sweet sounds, you lowered your mouth, capturing one sensitive nipple while your hand lavished attention on the other. Her fingers tangled in your hair once more, holding you close as she whispered your name like a prayer to both the old gods and the new.

Then, in a matter of seconds –you weren't exactly sure how but you didn't care–, you were both fully naked. You took Brienne's other nipple in your mouth while her hands slid down to your waist. The touch was a bit tentative, as though she feared you might withdraw again. But when you didn't, when instead you leaned into her touch, she grew bolder and her hands tugged you down until you were straddling her.

"Brienne, your bruises…"

"I don't care."

You stopped for a moment to make sure she wasn't lying or trying to be brave, but the eagerness in her eyes and the way she repeatedly pushed her hips into yours encouraged you to keep going.

So you started rolling your hips as well, gently, letting your cores meet for the first time. Brienne's head jerked backwards and arched her back even more, and you could only marvel at the magnificent chiaroscuro the fire burning on the other side of the room created on her alabaster skin.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured as you leaned in again to kiss her temple.

Then you moved to her brow bone and planted gentle kisses around the cut there, a painful reminder of how valiantly she had fought for you.

"So strong…"

With the way she whimpered then, you understood Brienne only half-believed your words but secretly liked to be praised. So you kept showering her with compliments while your hands explored her, tracing every bruise, every scar, every place she might have thought unworthy of touch.

"Keep going," she demanded, voice raw with need.

You obeyed, sliding your hand lower, over the firm lines of her abdomen, until you reached her thighs and the heat between them. Brienne hissed then, and your head shot up.

"Is that not alright?"

"No, it's just… Your hands are cold," she admitted.

"Forgive me."

You pulled back and lifted your hand so you could warm your fingers in your mouth, but Brienne snatched your wrist and brought them to her own lips instead. Her eyelids fluttered as her tongue ran over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, and the sight made you groan.

"Heavens…"

You brought your hand back down between her thighs again, and this time, her breath shattered into a broken moan as your fingers parted her folds, finding her slick and ready. You circled her clit –slowly, at first–, savouring how she writhed beneath you, her body offering no resistance, only hunger.

"Gods, yes!"

Brienne kept moaning and calling your name like a desperate mantra, her legs instinctively parting wider the more you stimulated her bundle of nerves. You watched as she bucked against your hand, her breath coming in ragged gasps, then leaned down again to pepper her body with more pecks and nibbles, kissing her injuries better.

When you finally pushed a finger inside her, Brienne cursed like you never thought could be possible, and her hips rose to meet your thrusts. You set a slow, deliberate rhythm, drawing out every shudder, every broken moan. Then your thumb found her clit, circling with just enough pressure to make her tremble uncontrollably.

"Oh, fuck!"

The more you pumped into her, the more you could feel Brienne lowering her inhibitions and finally being her most genuine self.

"More! I need more!"

What a demanding dame, you thought as your finger kept sliding in and out of Brienne's warm depth. But she had told you she didn't want to wait to get what she wanted any more, so you indulged her and pulled your hand back until you could ease your ring finger inside her as well. Brienne was so relaxed and wet by now that it took practically no effort at all.

Brienne wailed loudly as your fingers stretched her, filling her with a heavenly ache she seemed desperate for. Her thighs quivered against your sides, strong muscles twitching uncontrollably with every deliberate thrust as you slightly picked up the pace. You could feel her slick juices coating your hand as you drove deeper and curled your fingers just right to hit that sensitive spot inside her.

"Right here! Don't stop!" she cried out, voice breaking with unprecedented pleasure.

Your wrist began to hurt, but you obeyed, setting a relentless rhythm, your thumb pressing harder against her swollen clit. You felt like you had no right to be tired when she had not once spared herself for you. So you kept going.

Suddenly, Brienne's leg shifted between yours, pressing firmly against your core.

"Gods, Brienne…"

The pressure made your head spin, your body involuntarily rolling against her muscular thigh as you kept thrusting your fingers inside her. It all felt too good and you couldn’t suppress the needy whimpers spilling from your lips. Your shameless humping made it harder to focus, of course. Yet you didn't stop and your mouth was now making its way down her body, forcing you to shift and let your wetness trail down her skin, coating her all the way to her shin.

When you eventually reached her lower abdomen and nipped at her hip bone, you took a moment to look up, wanting to make sure this was still alright for her. The helpless jolt of her hips was the only sign you needed and, with one last kiss to her mound, you lowered your head to take her bud between your lips.

Her light brown curls were damp from arousal and tickled your nose. Her scent enveloped you –a musky mix of sweat, leather, and something uniquely Brienne, earthy and wild, like wind-swept forests after a rainstorm.

You groaned softly, intoxicated, and pressed your mouth fully against her. Brienne cried out, and, suddenly, her fingers gripped your scalp once more to keep you in place while she practically fucked herself on your tongue.

You circled her clit with your tongue and kept teasing the rough patch behind it relentlessly while your free hand held her thigh tight, no matter how hard her thrusts made it to keep the rhythm going.

"You're so perfect like this, so beautiful," you whispered between heavy pants when you pulled back for a second to catch your breath.

Brienne bucked against your mouth, utterly wrecked, hooked her free leg around your waist to keep you exactly where she wanted, and let out a strangled moan, her whole body tensing under your praise.

You felt her inner walls clench around your fingers, tightening with every thrust as she spiralled closer to the edge. You could also feel your own release creeping closer with every grind, though you never faltered in your devotion to her.

She was close, you knew it. Her pleasure was your command, your entire world reduced to the taste of her, the sight of her, the feeling of her trembling under you. So you took her deeper, sucking gently, taking care of her clit with calculated strokes of your tongue.

"It's alright," you cooed, voice thick with lust and affection. "You can let go."

"Yes!"

With a guttural cry, Brienne came undone. Her entire body arched off the bed, trembling violently, and you felt every pulse, every desperate squeeze of her core around your fingers and thighs locking firmly around your head as wave after wave of ecstasy overtook her.

The leg she had between yours shot up with the force of her climax and parted your own folds so perfectly to brush against your needy clit that you immediately joined her in release, shouting her name at the top of your lungs.

You kept licking, sucking, and thrusting as best as you could during your orgasm and held Brienne through every quivering aftershock until you could move no more and let your head fall limp against her thigh.

"Gods be good…" Brienne panted before one last whimper escaped her lips.

Her hands then gently cradled your face, guiding you back up into her arms. She kissed you with overwhelming tenderness, her lips still trembling, and you kissed her back with equal adoration. Then she smiled at you –a real smile–, and you knew, you just knew, you had had the honour of making Brienne feel like her truest self for the first time.

"It's so different," she mused sometime later.

You had both fully come down from your high and were holding each other close on the small bed while the fire still crackled in the hearth and the rain drummed steadily against the roof, sealing you both away from the outside world.

Your fingers didn't stop their soothing patterns on her upper arm, but you lifted your head, brows knitting in puzzlement.

"Different?"

"When… When it's someone who wants you just as much as you want them, someone who is ready to return the same affection and loyalty you offer them. It's different. It's… better."

Brienne spoke those words in a soft tone, albeit heavy with the weight of old wounds and betrayals. You saw it all in her eyes, and your chest ached with fierce, protective love.

You suddenly felt the urge to hurt anyone who had caused Brienne all that pain, but you knew most of them were dead and it was useless to dwell on the past. So you smiled instead.

Gently, you cupped her face, your thumb brushing tenderly over her cheek.

"Then know this, my lady. As long as I draw breath, you shall never question where you stand with me. You will be loved –fully, fiercely, and without shame."

Slowly, reverently even, Brienne pressed her forehead to yours, exhaling a trembling breath that seemed to release a lifetime of hope.

"I'm no lady," she corrected with a tender smile. "But I am forever yours."

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