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bluenotes75 · 2 years ago

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Trust pt.2

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader x Miles Morales ! 1610

wc : 5,9k Warnings : angst, possessiveness, all characters are around 19 years old, cheating, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago, eventual love triangle ?, dramaaaa. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3 (coming soon)

Sorry, it took so long, the chapter just kept getting longer. Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

You sighed as you closed the door of the store. It was already past midnight and you had just finished a long shift. Oddly, the store had been particularly active today and you couldn't catch any break. Now you sought one simple thing. To find the comfort of your bed.

You removed the key from the lock and frowned as a drop of water touched your skin. It was raining.

Wonderful.

You had no umbrella with you as you didn't anticipate the night to get rainy. Regretting your choice of clothes, you pressed your bag on top of your head to protect yourself from the rain. Your home was a bit far from the cornerstone you worked at and you knew you had to hurry up because the streets were not safe at night.

As you headed toward your apartment, your thought deviated toward him.

It had been one month. Four weeks since everything fell apart.

At least, to you.

Twenty-eight days since you broke up with Miles Morales. Six hundred and seventy-two hours since he betrayed you and you liked to think that you had moved on. It was the easiest way to go through your days.

And if your heart ached each time you found his clothes in your closet or if you woke up in the middle of the night to noises on your window thinking it was him, you denied it.

The pain that you felt that night was unmatched. It was still fresh, rooted deep in your memories. But with time, you discovered it was nothing next to the pain of leaving without Miles. He wasn't there physically, yet he occupied each ounce of your mind.

Contrary to what you could believe, Miles wasn't any better. You were on his mind, 24/7.

He regretted. He regretted considerably. He had made the worst mistake of his life and just like that, you slipped through his fingers.

You were his world. His universe. He missed your presence. He missed holding you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your skin, tickling the curve of your hip, caressing the softness of your skin with his lips and seeing the deepness of your loving gaze when you looked up at him. He missed everything about you and he refused to let you go.

And this became the hardest part for you. Miles had tried to get you back.

Countless time.

Because even if your mind was screaming no, your heart was still weak for the boy. And he knew it.

He hadn't stopped texting you in the weeks following your break up. He had asked for forgiveness so many times you couldn't even count it. When you blocked him on every social media, he directly came to your house. He would knock on your window at late hours like he always did.

You would leave him outside.

After some time, he finally decided to give you some space but you could still feel his presence from afar. You could feel his stare on your back sometimes as you came back from work. You knew he was still making sure you were safe. Sometimes, you find to notes from him on your window.

You didn't read them.

You had thought of taking him back. On your lowest nights, you had thought that maybe it was for the best. You felt nothing without him. Even if the relationship brought your more strain than anything else, it was at least something. It was toxic but addicting. It made you cry at night but it made you feel high on other days. The only thing stopping you from going back was that little doubt ticking in the back of your brain.

What if he did it again?

But if there was one thing you knew, is that you were faithful to yourself. You were too afraid to put yourself through that process again if he was to mess up again. He had already broken you once, had left you miserable and you had suffered too much to trust him again.

So with time, you learned to let go. You had finally gotten used to living without him. Each day you were forgetting him more and more and you felt like yourself once again. And while your heart was still tied to his in a way, you knew you could live peacefully now.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by a noise behind you, yet you didn't give it a second thought. However, when you heard again, this time followed by irregular steps against the wet concrete, you frowned.

You peeked behind your shoulder and noticed a man, both taller and broader, dressed in a black hoodie. You couldn't see his face.

Your heartbeat picked up.

You accelerated, hoping that you were worrying for nothing, but that hope was soon crushed when the steps also became faster. Before you could think of a way to get yourself out of this situation, a hand covered your mouth and you were dragged into an alley.

It was dark and you could barely see anything as you fought back against the broad body that manhandled you against the wall.

''What pretty girl like you doing outside at such an hour.''

He whispered, his breath reeking of booze. He pressed his body against yours and travelled his hands on your back. Your cheeks pressed hard against the rugged brick wall, you felt tears burn the brim of your eyes as you realized what was about to happen.

''N-no! Please don't''

''Shut up bitch, you want it. You wouldn't be walking alone at such hours if not,'' he laughed in your ears.

''Nah, I think her no was clear enough.''

You jerked at the new voice and soon, the hands holding you against the wall disappeared. You turned around panicked, gasping as the man who was once all over you, now laying on the ground, holding his bruised cheek. Another guy dressed in a red suit stood over him.

''I hate assholes like you-'' the newcomer shot a string of web to tie up the man against the wall ? ''who think they can do whatever they want.''

You rubbed your eyes to make sure you saw well. Web ?

''Don't touch women again, got it ?''

The man nodded quickly, eyes widened in fear before the guy in red sent another punch, knocking him out for good.

You stood there, back against the wall, frozen. You had never heard of a guy in red playing the hero in Brooklyn.

New-york was filled with villains. You just hoped to fall on the nicest one.

As if reading your thoughts, the guy in red walked toward you.

''Hey, are you fine? I'm sorry this happened !''

He stopped in his track when you flinched.

''Look, I don't want you any harm,'' he raised his arms in the air as proof. ''Can I...come closer ?''

You nodded slowly, still speechless, and he did so. From closer, he was towering over you and you had to raise your head to properly look at him.

Just like with your ex.

You frowned, feeling stupid for thinking of the guy in such a situation and finally spoke.

''Thank you."

You watched as he smiled through his mask.

''Of course,'' he raised his hand before stopping abruptly. ''Can I touch you ?''

You nodded and he held your chin, angling it to the side and checking your cheek.

''Good he didn't hurt you,'' he then took in your appearance. You were completely wet because of the rain and you had started shivering. He removed the coat he was wearing and wrapped it around your shoulders. ''Here.''

A million thoughts crossed your mind, yet you only cared about one.

The coat smelled like Miles.

You shook your head, feeling stupid again. Were you so obsessed that you imagined your ex everywhere now? You really needed some sleep.

But you didn't want to walk home alone.

''I'll bring you home,'' the boy announced before wrapping his arms around your hips. ''Hold onto me tight.''

You did as he said, confused about why but soon understood when he brought you both in the air.

''Oh god !''

You closed your eyes not daring to look down.

''I know,'' he laughed near your ear and you couldn't ignore the shivers that crossed your body at the familiarity of his voice.

In less than ten minutes, you were home after telling him the way.

''Thank you for this,'' you smiled shyly and handed him back his coat.

''Of course! ''

You looked at him and you just couldn't get rid of this picture of Miles.

''Who are you ?''

You were shocked at your own question, the word escaping your mouth before you could stop yourself.

''Oh, I'm Spiderman," the guy said and you could hear the proudness in his voice.

''No, like who are you really?'' You slid your hands down his shoulders and his arms. It was a posture you knew too well. You could recognize that body in a million. ''Miles ?''

''W-what''

You grabbed the end of his mask and to your surprise, he didn't stop you. You raised it until it revealed his face.

A gasp escaped you as you saw Miles but....he didn't have braids. You studied him carefully. Same lips, same nose, same cheekbones, you almost got fooled. But when you made eye contact with him, you saw it.

It wasn't your ex.

His eyes weren't the same. Your ex had this hardened stare. A gaze built by the wall he created around himself. People said eyes were the mirror of the soul but you couldn't read anything through them.

This guy in front however had....innocence painted all over his eyes. His stare was soft, warm and solacing.

''You aren't Miles, who are you ?''

The guy took a step forward, hope in his eyes. You stepped back.

''You know Miles Morales ?''

You shook your head freaked out by the situation and took another step back.

''Get out.''

The taller widened his eyes.

''No, no please listen to me first.''

Maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was because he looked like Miles, you didn't know. But you didn't have the heart to chase him away one more time.

''You have five minutes.''

"So you're telling me that you are a hero from another earth that is exactly like mine and you saved people you weren't supposed to so a hoard of spidermans is following you and you need to go back to your earth to save your dad."

Miles nodded eagerly.

"I know it sounds crazy but yeah…that's pretty much it.''

''Damn,'' you breathed, letting the information sink in. ''And you need me for..?''

''To find a way back home.''

The boy stared at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head.

''Look, I don't think I can help you with that.''

His face dropped and he clasped your smaller hands in his calloused ones.

''Nonono, please! You are the only one I could find and you seem to already know Miles Morales from here. You know how I need to act to stay unnoticed.''

You thought about his words. It made sense, but you didn't want to get involved in all that mess.

"I really don't know."

"Please !"

You wondered for a few more seconds. How where you supposed to refuse when he was looking at you pleadingly?

''Alright.''

His facial features broke into a grin and he pulled on your arm, making you collide against his chest.

''Thank you !''

You could only widen your eyes as you felt his arms tighten around you. You hadn't expected this sudden affection. Dumbstruck, you failed to return the gesture until he froze and leaned back, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

''Sorry, I got too excited…'' he looked away, your stare becoming too intense for him.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. The Miles you knew was so cold so this new Miles with such a…bubbly personality was interesting.

You couldn't help but think it was sweet…and very cute.

''It's fine.''

He seemed satisfied with your reaction as he joined you before your laughers died down.

''Uh, I might have sum else to ask.''

You hummed.

''I kinda need a place to stay.''

Miles towered over you, holding bedsheets, while you hugged a pillow to your chest.

''So how are we going to do this ?''

You two made eye contact before glancing at the bed again. Suddenly, the boy dropped the fabric on the floor and rose his hand next to his chest.

''I'll sleep on the ground, it's fin-''

''no, you don-''

''Yes, I do. I'm the guy and the guest, so sleep on the bed and I'll-''

''Just lay down, I don't mind.''

You slid under the covers not waiting for his reaction and soon, you heard the mattress dip toward his side. He was careful to let some space between you.

You rose the fabric over both of your bodies and sighed. This was a long day and you were honey tired. You tried to get some sleep but you could feel starring eyes burning your skin.

''What is it ?'' you whispered with your eyes still closed.

You heard the rub of covers before Miles cleared his throat.

''Nothing, nothing.''

Then the mattress bent again and you assumed he turned the other way.

''Oh, by the way. My mom can't know you are here. So you know…be discreet.''

You didn't want to have to explain to her what Miles, your ex - even if it's not really him - was doing in your room at such an hour.

''Don,t worry, I'm discreet.''

The next afternoon, you found yourself in the library. It was far from your apartment and your school, which reduced the chance of running into an unrequired acquaintance.

''Look at this, doesn't it look interesting ?''

You extended a book about something called 'The Super-Collider'.

''That's basically a particle collider right ?'' You added as Miles grabbed the heavy textbook.

The taller boy nodded, peeking at the back cover.

''Yes, it uses electromagnetic fields to speed up charged particles. And-

''Eventually, pull or join different objects coming from different dimensions,'' you finished, scratching your chin as you wondered about something. You didn't notice Miles' amazed expression.

''You know what it is ?''

You looked at him as if he was crazy.

''Of course, didn't you watch The Flash ?''

His excitation vanished and you received silence as an answer.

''I'm joking, I'm just really interested in physics,'' you said pivoting back to the bookshelf and searching for another work that could be useful.

''Oh...I didn't know that. I wanna study in that field later.''

Your widened eyes shifted back to him.

''What, you literally hate phys-'' you stopped as remembered who you were with and you shook your head embarrassed. ''Nevermind.....It's nice to have someone who likes it like me.''

You couldn't help the thrill that invaded you. Your ex would always joke about your interests in physics and eventually, you stopped talking about it. So seeing this new Miles show interest brought a certain warm feeling to your stomach. You didn't know what it was, but the longer you were with the boy, the more interesting you found him. You had found a special chemistry with him and it's like you two had always been friends.

You liked that sensation.

''I was wondering, are particle accelerators the reason why you are here ?"

The taller twisted his mouth to the side.

''Uh...not really? It's part of the reason though. Some type of butterfly effect,'' he finished as you opened another book. You simply hummed not pushing too much on the object. It didn't look like he wanted to talk much about it.

''I think we have enough for now. Let's buy them !''

You gazed at the raindrops interrupting the peaceful reflection of your face on the blurry window. It was particularly cold today, gray clouds snatching the sunrays from the city while its people ran down the streets to cover themselves from the water. To you, the scenery was simply gloomy.

A usual rainy day in Brooklyn.

You jumped as the doorbell of the store rang, pulling you out of your train of thought. You relaxed after realizing it was only a client. You were only 3 in the shop. You being the cashier, the man who had just crossed the door and Miles hanging upside down next to you while playing a ball.

''What's up with you? You've been daydreaming since morning.''

It had been 3 weeks since this Miles arrived from Earth 1610 and you had nearly spent all of your time with him.

Well, it's not as if you had a choice since he lived in your apartment, but it didn't change the you two had gotten extremely close. You were hanging out every day. One time at the coffee shop and another time watching a movie while trying hairstyles on his hair. Just like yesterday.

You couldn't deny your attachment that had grown for him. Hell, just thinking about him made your heart flutter and you would find yourself stuck with a stupid grin on your lips.

At first, you kept comparing him with your ex. His accent, his gesture, what he liked and what he disliked. He didn't speak as much Spanish, he wasn't as mysterious and cold. But as time passed, you found yourself more and more drawn by this new Miles. He was more expressive, affectionate, supportive and careful with you. He knew how to make you laugh no matter the situation and you two shared multiple interests.

You weren't oblivious. You quickly understood that the boy was slowly stealing your heart. But that doesn't mean you were ready for it.

You were used to feeling love with pain. To push and pull kind of relationship. To toxic and aggressive feelings. To spend the night worrying about your lover and only to find him bleeding the next day. To cry alone at night then drown your sadness in your boyfriend's arms for a few minutes before you had to separate again to go to school.

But with Mile Morales, everything was different. It was sweet, warm and solacing. He was always next to you at night and he was careful with you in daylight. You felt protected and you weren't sleeping next to a criminal anymore.

This was so different, but you liked it.

''I just didn't get much sleep last night.''

The taller jumped back to his feet before getting closer to you. He looked at your face carefully, worry painted all over his own features.

''I shouldn't have kept you up all night, sorry.''

You looked up at him with a chuckle before flicking his forehead softly.

''No, it was funny. You looked really cute with those coloured rubber bands in those cornrows I did,'' you teased, facing him.

He frowned before a tiny pout took over his mouth. It was nearly imperceptible but it was there.

''I looked like a kid. How am I supposed to be big and scary with that in my hair.''

You burst out laughing, the memory from last night coming back to you. You had told him you would braid his hair since he wanted to try something new but he ended up removing them because 'they were too tight, and his scalp was too soft for all that'. You knew he just wanted to remove the rubber bands.

''I'm still mad at you for destrpying my beautiful work.''

He smirked getting closer, reducing the space between you two.

''Don't be upset tesoro, what will I do if you are mad at me ?''

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, like it had done for the past weeks, and you looked away, to hide your shy smile. However, before you could answer, you heard a gun cocking right in front of you.

You slowly looked up, to find a riffle pointed right to your face. Your heart dropped as you failed to understand whatever the client from earlier was screaming.

''Open the cash register and gimme the bills,'' when he noticed your lack of reaction, he brought the gun closer to your forehead. ''Hurry the fuck up !''

However, before the stranger could try anything else, the gun was knocked out of his hands and his arms were joined together by web.

Everything passed in a flash and Miles quickly neutralize him and called the police. And if he gave a few unnecessary punches to the man, as he was already tied up, you didn't mention it. It was Miles' way to get back at the man and make him regret pointing his gun at you.

Before you could even realize what happened, the boy was in front of you, holding you tight by the elbow, checking up on you for the second time in less than 10 minutes.

''How are you feeling,'' he whispered, his low voice vibrating in your ear.

''G-good.''

Your voice left you like a whisper, still shaken by the event.

You had encountered multiple... ominous situations in this city. But being held at gunpoint and knowing your life was in the hands of a stranger was different. You realized how lucky you were to have Miles at your side at this exact moment and your eyes watered.

The boy read right through the facade you were trying to keep up, as he noticed your shivering and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, dragging you against himself.

''Come here precious.''

You tightened your hands around the low of his back, losing yourself in the warmness and the comfort of his embrace. You felt safe and the panic was slowly soothed away from you.

''Feeling better ?''

You nodded, slowly, face still hidden nestled in the crook of his neck.

''How come there's so much crime in this city,'' he sighed, caressing the back of your neck to bring you more comfort.

''We don't have Spiderman here, you know,'' you muttered, finally finding the energy to spill some words.

Your words were muffled by his skin and you felt him shiver at the sensation of your lips against his neck.

''Right.''

You expected him to laugh at your words so you looked up at him, frown plastered on your face.

''Are you mad ?''

His expression softened when he noticed you scowl and he shook his head.

''No,'' he rested his chin on top of your head. ''I just don't like the idea of you living all these years without anyone to protect you.''

You ignored the butterflies that invaded your stomach as his sentence, your lips growing into a grin against the crook of his neck.

''I'm not a damsel in distress.''

Miles only hummed, not letting go of you.

''Yeah, if you say so, preciosa.''

Everything was going perfectly. You and Miles were slowly finding more clues on how to send him back to Earth 1610 and by then, old Miles was already far in your memory.

You couldn't but wonder how unusual that was. You weren't used to just living peacefully. There was always something going on.

And you weren't wrong to feel so suspicious.

You were walking down the street as it was getting darker outside.

Again.

You had to stay a few more hours at school to finish a group project and you hadn't realized how much time had passed. You cursed under your breath, remembering what happened the last time you found yourself walking for such an hour outside.

Not wanting to get in such a situation again, you accelerated until you arrived on the street where you live. You sighed, relieved, but before you could take your keys, a large hand caught your elbow, dragging you into the alley behind your apartment. You were pinned against the bricked wall and clenched your eyes shut, groaning at the impact.

What's with the people of this city and walls? Damn.

However, when you glanced at whoever seized you so brutally, your heart sank. You had completely forgotten about him and you had never expected him to come back.

''Miles.''

Your ex smirked staring up and down at your silhouette before licking his lips. A shiver travelled down your body at his action.

''Happy to see me mami ?''

You two made eye contact and you were hauled. His gaze was still as piercing as you remembered and it brought back unwanted memories. However, you suddenly blinked, waking up from your stupor and averted your eyes from the imposing male. Your expression turned sour and you tried to push him away, unsuccessfully.

''Leave me alone, Morales.''

He chuckled, taking a step forward to reduce the space between both of your bodies.

''So that's what we are doing now ?''

You kept your lips sealed and turned your head to the side as an answer. However, his fingers slid behind your neck, using his thumb to shift your head back to him.

''Look at me when I talk to you.''

''What do you want ?''

He rose his eyebrow at the dryness of your tone, still not used to such an attitude from you.

''I don't need a reason to see yah princesa.''

''I don't have time for this, move.''

Miles clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening at your words.

''Watch your tone.''

''Or what ?'' you raised your eyebrow at him with a bored expression. Two months ago, you would have never talked to him like that. But right now, you couldn't care less. You wanted to go home, take a shower and cuddle with your Miles. You were too tired for all that.

Your ex-boyfriend visibly took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself down. You could see the frustration growing in him. But you didn't expect what he would say next.

''Who's that guy you've been hanging out with lately ?''

You froze at the question.

''What the- have you been following me ?''

''I asked you a question,'' Miles repeated louder this time.

''It's none of your business.''

''I'm being nice and you don't wanna try me. I don't like you talking to other guys and you know that.''

You scoffed at his nerve. Why was he acting like you were his or something?

''What part don't you understand in 'we're done' ?''

He took a deep breath and pinched his nose.

''Look, I fucked up mami. Lo sé and I hate myself for it. But I let you have some space for two months already, te necesito.''

''Miles, I don't love you anymore.''

He froze for a second but you could see him gulp slowly.

''I know you, stop playing hard to get.''

You rested your hand against your forehead tired of this situation already.

''Are you being serious ?'' he asked again in disbelief.

But instead of answering, you pushed him back and this time, he didn't resist.

''I'm leaving.''

''Where do you think you are going ?''

''Hopefully to my new boyfriend,'' you answered. Being honest was probably the only way to force him away from you.

''You don't want to do this,'' he said darkly. He clenched his jaw and rubbed his hand on his chin. You had never seen him so mad. ''I'm warning you.''

You shook your head with a sigh before ignoring him and entering your apartment. You knew he was saying empty words. Your ex would never dare to hurt you directly. He could cheat, and lie but never harm you intentionally.

That's what you thought at least.

Arriving in your room, you find your new Miles sitting at your desk, sketching something on a sheet.

''Preciosa, you are finally here.''

You nodded with a tired smile.

''You're not sleeping yet ?''

He shook his head, leaning back on the chair and spreading his leg to be more comfortable. ''Nah, was waiting for you."

You raised an eyebrow at his position before throwing a shoe at him that he easily caught with one hand.

''Stop the manspreading in my room.''

He laughed before telling you to come closer. You obeyed and your eyes fell on the drawing he was making.

It was you.

And it was you in a way you had never seen before. You looked...magnificent.

Your breath got stuck in your throat and couldn't help but wonder if that's how the boy saw you.

All the stress you got from meeting your ex evaporated from your body as you sat on Miles' thighs and one of his hands rested on yours.

''It's beautiful.''

He hummed. ''When the muse is already gorgeous, it makes everything easier.''

Your heart jumped at the compliment and you pressed your head against his, running your thumb down his cheek as he kept drawing.

''Careful, you'll make my fro flat,'' the boy muttered, still focused on his sketch.

''I'll brush it out for you later,'' you giggled, continuing your ministration on his face.

A few more seconds passed and only the soft sound of a pencil running on paper filled the silence surrounding you. All until the boy broke the ice.

''I've always wanted to ask but...what's your relationship with Miles from here ?''

You gulped at this sudden question. Did he saw...what happened outside?

''Why you wanna know that ?''

Noticing your defensive reaction, he shook his head softly.

''Hey, I'm not forcing you to tell me, I was just wondering since you know...he never tried to contact you since I arrived. I kind of assumed you two were close since you recognized me in my suit. ''

You relaxed at his explanation.

''Oh, uh we were friends, but we had an argument and haven't really talked since.''

You didn't want to think about the guy anymore and ruin this wonderful moment. You hoped your Miles wouldn't mind the white lie you had just spitted out.

Hopefully, the taller didn't seem to question you more and quickly changed the conversation.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with your ex and everything was going better than ever. Your mom had just left for a trip and the house was left to you and Miles. You woke up to the sound of the plate coming from the kitchen.

Loud sounds.

When you arrived in the living room, you found Miles throwing water in a pan which contained burning eggs. Your mouth dropped.

''What are you doing ?''

He jumped at the sound of your voice before placing his hand on his chest right over his heart.

''Shit, don't scare me like that.'' He then looked at the mess he had created and scratched the back of his neck. ''Uh...I was trying to make breakfast.''

You looked at him, still devoid of words before bursting out laughing.

''And you managed to burn eggs? How do you even burn eggs ?''

You shook your head taking the pan out of his and putting it in the sink.

''What I am going to do with your Miles.''

He pouted following closely behind you like a lost puppy.

''It's the meaning that matters ?''

You glared at him before seeing the opened bag of flour next to you. You smirked before grabbing some and throwing it in his face.

''Hey !''

He retaliated by taking the closest thing to him, which was a raw egg and throwing it on your shirt.

A gasp was heard.

''You did not just do that.''

''Oh, I did. ''

Soon, it turned into a food war, and your enjoyment could be heard by the mix of yells and laughers coming from the kitchen. Out of nowhere, Miles caught the back of your thighs and sat you on the table, before resting between your legs.

''Caught you.''

You laughed gaily, before getting closer to his face with a raised eyebrow.

''What do you want champion? A kiss as a price ?''

Yet, instead of joking back as you expected, the boy only gulped. That's when you noticed the small space separating both of your faces.

You liked your lips, anxious at his silence and his eyes followed your tongue before slowly travelling back to your nose and your eyelashes. He then closed his eye and shook his head to compose himself.

''The stuff you make me think, preciosa.''

Your mouth dried out at his words and you bit your lips.

''Like what ?''

''I can't say it.''

He averted his eyes from you once again but you stopped him before he could lean away.

''Then show me,'' you whispered.

He widened his eyes as his breath brushed against your lips. You saw as he tried to hold himself back but the intense burning in his eyes showed you that he wanted exactly what you wanted.

''Fuck it.''

He leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours and you automatically responded, sighing in delight.

Finally.

Your lips moved in synchronization and you felt euphoric. After a few seconds, he leaned away, his dark eyes travelling onto your face as if he wanted to capture to moment and carve it in his mind forever.

''You don't know how much I've wanted this."

''Me too,'' you whispered before your mouths found each other again.

You kissed and kissed. For how long, you didn't know. But all you knew is that it felt too good and it only felt like a few seconds before you separated again.

Miles licked his lips and let out a breath.

''That was -wow.''

''Yeah...'' you whispered trying to catch your breath, a bit dazzled by what had just happened.

''I made you this breathless already,'' he laughed before you punched him on the shoulder.

''Shut up !''

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist.

''I would love to kiss you more, but I think we need to clean this up first.''

You followed his eyes and noticed the mess you two had created.

''Yeah...''

He carried you back on the floor and you two got to work. Eventually, you realized you needed more cleaning products and you went to the store while he continued cleaning.

On the way, you kept touching your lower lip with a stupid smile stuck on your face. Miles made you feel all sorts of things and infatuation was the main one. You were already excited to get back home and continue the unfinished business.

The trip to get more cleaning products was fast and soon, you were back at your apartment.

But bliss goes away as fast as it comes, doesn't it ?

When you opened the door to your apartment to find that the living room was a mess.

But not the mess you had left in the kitchen.

A people having a physical fight kind of a mess. The armchair was knocked down, the table was broken and the pillows were ripped.

''Miles ?'' you yelled but received no answer.

Your heart raced as you rushed to look in the different rooms of your home, but there wasn't any living soul.

What the heck was happening?

When you arrived in your room, there was still no one.

But as you were going back to the kitchen, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on your window.

Exactly like the one your ex used to leave.

From afar, you could even recognize his writing. You snatched it and for the first time, you decided to read it.

Your heart sank at the words.

''I warned you.''

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formulauno98 · 4 months ago

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Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Twelve / Chalet Girl Winter - Saturday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: 🌶 Some mild spice but 18+ only.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this. Sorry for the huge delay in posting, life has been hectic! Hope you still enjoy my fic.

SATURDAY MORNING

You were blissfully happy waking up in Toto’s warm embrace, exactly where you had drifted off to sleep following your passionate night. Light was creeping in through the curtains that you didn’t even remember closing last night and you smiled as it dawned on you that Toto must have closed them once you were asleep. Thankfully the storm had passed, leaving a stillness save for Toto’s soft breathing as he slept soundly beside you.

Trying your best not to disturb him, you shifted as you moved over to check the alarm clock on the bedside table to see how early it was. Eight thirty, fuck.

Toto had told everyone to be down for breakfast at nine, ready to hit the ski slopes shortly after. Amid the power cut you’d both forgotten to put your phones on charge so your alarms hadn’t woken you up.

A little nervous about waking the man sleeping next to you, you gently shook his arm. “Morning.”

He still did not stir so you tried again, this time more forcefully. “Hey, wake up…”

“Huh?” came a groan, as he opened his eyes sleepily, his hand drifting to your waist, “What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty,” you said, “I’m sorry to wake you but our alarms didn’t go off.”

“No no don’t be silly.” he said, clutching you closer, his lips ghosting the back of your ear, “Sorry, I should have put our phones on charge when the power came back on.”

”Didn’t it come back on in the middle of the night?” you asked, snuggling back into his arms, content with staying in bed for a while longer.

”Yes, not long after you dropped off.” he said, kissing your shoulder, “I got up to close the curtains.”

“Well, aren’t you slick?” you replied lazily, “Drawing the curtains so we have an excuse to never get out of bed.”

“Hmm,” said Toto, his hands roaming absentmindedly over your body as he spooned you, “I suppose we do need to get dressed. But I don’t want to.”

“Me neither,” you said, pulling his arm back over you.

“You’re a bad influence,” he said, lightly squeezing your thigh before letting go entirely and slipping out of bed.

Pouting, you made a face as he wandered over to the curtains, offering you a prime view of his gym

honed ass.

“Stop looking at my ass,” he said, chuckling as he drew back the curtains, revealing the spectacular morning view of the valley below. The sky was bright and the snow was sparkling, it was the perfect day.

“I actually don’t know which view I prefer,” you said, sitting up in bed, smirking.

“Nice save.” said Toto before coming back over to you, “Now, we don’t have so much time. Do you want to use the bathroom first or do you want to share?”

Showering together was a new level of intimacy that you’d been yet to explore but you figured there was no time like the present to try it, “Let’s share.” you said with a smile.

– – –

Thanks to Toto lathering you up in the shower thoroughly, you’d taken longer to get ready than you’d anticipated. By the time you made yourselves present in the dining room for breakfast, your guests had almost finished eating.

“Good morning,” said Toto, brazen in his tardiness.

“Morning boss.” replied James with a wink, “I see your game, tell us to wake up early and give yourself a lie in.”

“I’m sure he was otherwise occupied,” John added with a knowing smirk, one of the few people who would dare try and tease Toto.

Toto chuckled, sitting down beside you, pouring you both a coffee and grabbing some pastries. “Work-life balance, James. Some of us have mastered it.”

James, not missing a beat, grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you were busy working hard this morning.”

Toto raised his coffee cup with a mock-serious nod, “As always.”

As the table laughed, you clocked Sam and Darren looking at each other, surprised to see their boss so relaxed. Less amused was George, whose eyes flickered to you more than once and although he tried to mask it, there was no mistaking the way his jaw tightened when his eyes found Toto. To his left, Elisa simply looked a little bored. You still could not figure her out.

“So, we were just talking about today’s plan” John started as the laughter died down, “What were you thinking Toto? Looks like the perfect powder day.”

“Well, I have promised some ski lessons, so we will be taking to the blue runs this morning.” he said, slipping his arm around you, “But I know some of you already ski well and George is keen to try the black runs so I suggest we split and reconvene at lunchtime. What do you all think?”

Murmurs echoed around the table as the group found Toto’s plan agreeable. You were slightly nervous as you were not confident with skiing but Toto had assured you he’d be patient.

“Sounds good to me boss.” said George, “Who’s up for the blacks?”

“Count me in,” Sam said, a competitive glint in his eye.

Darren nodded eagerly. “Me too. Just try to keep up, George.”

Elisa let out a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on you boys, so you don’t do anything stupid.”

George shot her a glance, clearly not thrilled with her sarcasm. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime,” she replied curtly.

Clocking their awkward interaction, Cara caught your eye, raising an arched brow. It was certainly a strange dynamic and not one you expected for a new couple. Even when your relationship was fraught you wouldn’t have said something like that to George.

Breaking the tension, John countered, “I’ll come too, Elisa. These boys are troublemakers eh?”

Smiling slightly Elisa nodded, “Great.” She was hard work for sure.

“Anybody else?” asked George, looking around the table, brushing off Elisa’s frostiness.

“No way.” said Marion, “I’ll be on the blues, I’m on holiday, not at boot camp.”

James laughed in agreement, “Same, plus with my dodgy knee, blues are probably for the best. I’m getting old!”

“That’s more than fair.” said George, “How about you Cara?”

“I’ll keep an eye on James.” she said, “Last year he took a tumble and he can’t be trusted.”

‘Oh yes, the infamous tumble.” said John, trying to stifle a laugh, “Sponsored by the air ambulance.”

“Don’t remind me.” said James, “Humiliating.”

“What happened?” you asked Toto quietly.

“You know these guys, always competitive.” he said, gesturing at them, “They decided to go off-piste on an adventure and long story short, James cracked his ankle and had to be airlifted to hospital.”

“Oh shit, I never heard about this!” you said, “Well hopefully that won’t happen on this trip.”

“You and me both,” said James smiling dryly.

“Indeed. Well, I think we have a plan, shall we get ready and reconvene in ten minutes?” Toto said, glancing at the clock. “We don’t want to miss the best of the morning powder.”

As everyone finished their coffees, you could feel George’s eyes lingering on you again. It made you slightly uneasy but Toto seemed oblivious, content to finish his croissant and hit the slopes as quickly as possible.

– – –

Having suited and booted with some help from a bemused Greta, you’d made it outside. Out on the slopes, the day was stunning, crisp air, clear skies and the perfect layer of powdered snow. As discussed the group had split with George leading half of the group to the black runs, whilst you stayed on the blue runs, eager to improve your technique with Toto’s help.

You should have been confident, but as you started your descent on your first run, nerves took hold and no amount of encouragement from Toto could keep you from feeling slightly out of your depth. Although it was just a blue, the least challenging colour for Austrian slopes, it felt steeper than you had expected.

“Just take it slow,” Toto called out from beside you, his voice reassuring. “You’re doing great.”

“I feel like Bambi,” you muttered, your legs trembling as you tried to stay upright.

He laughed, skiing effortlessly alongside you. “You look a lot better than Bambi.”

Despite his best efforts, your nerves got the better of you and in the middle of a particularly sharp turn, you lost your balance. Before you could stop yourself, you toppled sideways, falling into the soft snow with a thud. You let out a groan, wiping snow off your face as you lay sprawled on the ground.

Toto immediately skidded to a stop and instead of helping you up, lowered himself down beside you, laughing, “Well, that was elegant.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, “You’re supposed to help me, not join me!”

“I couldn’t leave you down here alone,” he said, grinning as he lay back on the snow, his head resting on his arms. “Besides, it’s nice down here. We should make snow angels.”

"You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. You unclipped yourself and lay back beside him.

“Tradition after a fall,” Toto teased, nudging your leg. “Come on, snow angels.”

You let out a playful sigh, moving your arms and legs to join in, both of you laughing like children.

When you finally sat up, catching your breath, Toto was having none of it and pulled you back down to lie on top of him, your helmets and goggles clashing slightly as he leaned up for a kiss.

“Thank you,” you said, resting your hand on his chest.

“What for?” he asked, squeezing you closer.

“For not making me feel like shit for falling over.” You glanced up the slope, where George and the others were likely tackling the black runs. Memories surfaced of your last ski trip with George and how he’d only offered a hand with an impatient shake of his head whenever you fell. There had been no lying in the snow laughing together.

Toto followed your gaze and reached out, brushing snow from your cheek. “Everybody falls.” he said, his eyes concerned, “It’s part of learning, you’re doing great.”

You gave a small nod and a smile, your heart pounding, not from the fall, but from the man sprawled out on the snow beneath you.

“Let’s get back up,” he said, lifting you to your feet before pulling himself up too. “You’ve got this.”

As you both brushed off the snow, you felt a surge of determination. “Okay, okay, I’m going to try again. And this time I’m not going to fall.”

Toto chuckled, adjusting his goggles. “I’ll hold you to that. Just remember, confidence is key.”

With a nod, you pushed off again, heart racing. The snow felt softer beneath your skis this time, but as you approached another turn, the nerves crept back in. You focused on the rhythm, just like Toto had shown you, but just as you began to gain some speed, a small bump caught you off guard.

“Shit!” you shouted, your skis slipping out from under you as you tumbled sideways again, landing in a fluffy pile of snow.

“Not going to fall again huh?” Toto called out, amusement dancing in his eyes as he skied up next to you, extending a gloved hand to help you up, “You’re making this look like an Olympic sport.”

“Very funny,” you replied, “At this rate, I’ve won the Gold.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist as he handed your pole back to you, “There’s that winning mentality.”

As you regained your footing, you spotted George and the others zipping down a steep black run in the distance. George was flying along with Elisa alongside him and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate. Intrusive thoughts entered your mind but you tried your best to shake them off and turned your attention back to Toto.

“Ready to give it another go?” he asked, his tone encouraging.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, buoyed by Toto’s kind smile. He really had the patience of a saint.

With a fresh focus, you tackled the slope again, taking Toto’s advice and making it a decent way down before the familiar wobbles crept in. Only this time, you kept your nerve and nailed the next turn.

“There you go,” Toto cheered, skiing alongside you. “That’s much better.”

“Thanks! I think I might be getting the hang of it,” you grinned, your confidence growing.

As you reached the bottom, you were greeted by the view of Cara, Marion and James waiting for you at the cafe at the bottom, bundled up in their jackets, sipping hot chocolates from steaming mugs. They had decided to take it easy, and they were clearly enjoying the show, clapping enthusiastically as you approached the terrace.

“You did it!” Cara called out, her face glowing with pride.

“Well, I had a very patient teacher,” you said, brushing snow from your goggles and turning towards Toto as he skied up next to you.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a fan club,” he said teasingly.

“Of course, we were all rooting for you!” Marion added, raising her mug in salute. “You’re getting there.”

You laughed, feeling a warm flush of accomplishment. “Progress, right?”

“Absolutely,” Cara said, giving you a playful nudge. “I’d say you’re officially a skier now. Just don’t go challenging anyone to a race just yet. I know what this lot are like!”

“Agreed,” Marion said, looking over at James. “Let’s not have another air ambulance situation on our hands.”

James raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I learned my lesson. I’m here for moral support, not for reliving that disaster.”

As the group finished up their hot chocolates, readying themselves to return to the slopes, you felt a lightness in the air. The atmosphere was infinitely more comfortable without George’s glowering, Sam and Darren’s jibes and Elisa’s stony-faced judging. You turned back to Toto, who was now watching you with an affectionate smile. “What’s next, coach?” you asked.

“Do you want to tackle that run again? I want to see you take those turns like a pro,” Toto replied.

“Okay, but you’re coming with me again, right?” you asked, feeling a flicker of nervousness again.

“Of course,” he assured you, “I like the view when I ski behind you.”

“Very funny,” you said, “Okay, let’s do this thing.”

“Remember, slow and steady,” Toto reminded you as you started to make your way to the lift.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. No more Olympic tumbles,” you joked, rolling your eyes as Toto led the group back to the queue for the lift.

Once he was out of earshot, James leaned over, smirking. “You know, I think you’ve officially stolen Toto’s heart. Just look at him.”

Cara nudged him, laughing. “Are you jealous my love?”

“Not at all,” he protested, feigning offence. “Just stating what I see. But seriously, it’s good to see him in such high spirits.”

Marion nodded. “For sure, I never dreamt we would see him lying down in the snow making snow angels.”

Your cheeks flushed at their compliments and you glanced towards Toto, who was busy chatting animatedly with the lift operator. He turned, catching your eye and winked. Perhaps the group was right? When you’d been with George and gone to watch him race, Toto had always seemed serious, somewhat dour at times. Now he was out here smiling, laughing and throwing himself down into the snow without a care in the world. Life could take some crazy turns sometimes.

– – –

On the lift, you found yourself squashed between Toto and Marion, nerves creeping back in as the anticipation of the next run grew. Ever observant, Toto reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly as the lift approached the top.

Once you had disembarked, Toto turned to you with a smile. “Ready?”

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself. “Do I have a choice?”

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, but you’ve got this.”

With that, you both pushed off together, gliding down the slope. You focused on his advice, slow and steady, controlling each turn and this time, something clicked. Instead of feeling anxious, you allowed yourself to enjoy the speed and the rush of cold air against your face as you flew down.

“See? Told you you’d get the hang of it!” Cara shouted from the terrace, where she was already unclipping her skis.

Toto laughed, his eyes sparkling with pride as he made his way over to you. “Next stop, the red runs. But first, hot chocolate?”

“Now you’re talking!” you replied, heart bursting with happiness. You’d never managed a full run without falling and you knew it was unlikely you’d pull it off twice. Carefully unclipping your skis beside Toto and Cara, you were grateful to be back on solid ground as you stepped onto the cafe terrace.

As Toto and James disappeared to get a round of hot chocolates, you settled down at one of the wooden tables beside Cara and Marion, noticing George and the rest of your group coming down the black run, all looking a bit dishevelled but laughing.

George’s laughter rang out and you caught the eye of Elisa, who seemed less than pleased with the men’s antics. “Looks like they survived after all,” you remarked, nudging Cara playfully.

“Barely!” she laughed. “They’ll probably be banging on about doing the black runs all day.”

“Lord spare me,” Marion groaned, eyeing her husband with mock exasperation.

You watched as the group came closer, coming to join you for your very early après ski. John had a huge grin on his face, animatedly recounting a moment when he had nearly wiped out while trying to keep pace with George. Sam and Darren were both clapping him on the back, clearly enjoying the show.

“What did we miss?” George asked, clipping his helmet on the back of the chair opposite you, his cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement.

“Oh, just the usual, me falling over about four hundred times,” you said, gesturing to the snow around you.

“Hey, we all have our talents,” he replied, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “But seriously, you look like you’re getting better. I saw you on that last run.”

“Thanks,” you replied, surprised at how cordial George was being.

“I also saw you making snow angels,” George said, his expression shifting for a moment as he glanced at Toto who was now returning with a tray of hot chocolate, James by his side. You could sense an underlying tension, but you brushed it aside.

“It had to be done,” you laughed, trying to keep the mood light.

As Toto and James settled at the table, passing out drinks, the group’s laughter rose again, cutting through the cold breeze. You’d been cautious about showing too much affection with Toto around George but now the chill was biting and you couldn’t resist shifting closer to Toto for warmth.

You glanced at George, now deep in conversation with Elisa, though something in his demeanour made you uneasy. Was it jealousy or something else? You shook it off, turning your attention back to the breathtaking view of the mountains surrounding you.

Toto leaned in, his voice low and warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, nestling closer to him. “Just a little cold.”

Pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around you with ease, “Are you sure it’s just the cold?” he asked softly.

You nodded, knowing he could see right through you. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking it all in.”

Toto’s gaze followed yours to George and Elisa. His jaw clenched briefly before he turned back to you, his expression softening. “If you need to get away, we can. No rush.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m having a great time,” you reassured him, lifting your hot chocolate with a smile. “And besides, I’m not missing out on this.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “Fair enough. Just say the word.”

As the group's chatter continued around you, you felt a fleeting pang watching George and Elisa. But then Toto squeezed your shoulder, anchoring you to the present.

"Ready for another run after this?" he asked.

"Absolutely," you replied, smiling up at him.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

By the time you returned to the chalet, your muscles aching from a full morning of skiing followed by a boozy schnitzel-and-chips lunch, the heated pool had never appealed more. Toto had left you to change alone as he needed to wrap up some business with James and John, so you’d taken your time upstairs slipping into your swimsuit, savouring a few moments of solitude.

As you made your way down to the pool area, you could already hear the others' voices echoing around. Toto was perched on the edge, his legs dipping into the water as he was deep in conversation with James and John. Cara and Marion were leisurely swimming laps, their quiet chatter carrying over the gentle ripple of the water.

At the far end of the pool, Elisa lounged in a skimpy white bikini, her attention seemingly fixed on George, who hovered nearby, nodding along at whatever story she was spinning. She had been glued to his side all day, though George’s interest seemed half-hearted. Sam and Darren were sprawled on the lounge chairs behind them chatting away.

The instant you stepped into the warm pool, you sighed in relief. The tension in your body seemed to melt away as you found a quiet spot in the pool, closing your eyes to finally relax. Before long, though, Elisa’s voice drifted your way.

“Love your swimsuit,” she called over, her tone friendly enough, though something was off, “So classic.”

You returned her smile, choosing not to overthink it. Before you could respond, Cara, always quick to back you up, floated by. "Yes, a one-piece is always elegant. Sometimes bikinis can be a bit... much," Cara said, casting a sidelong glance at Elisa.

Marion gave a knowing laugh as she swam up beside Cara. "Especially when you’ve got a body like hers. No need to flaunt everything to look good."

Elisa’s mouth tightened for a fraction of a second, but the message was received. You exchanged a grateful glance with Cara and Marion, the two older women certainly had your back. Elisa’s smirk faltered, though the look she gave you made it clear she wasn’t backing down entirely.

Oblivious to yours and Elisa’s exchange, Toto, wrapping up his conversation with James, finally stood and wandered over to where you floated, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He crouched at the pool's edge, his eyes twinkling.

“How’s the water?” he asked, his gaze locked on you as if the rest of the world had momentarily disappeared.

“Perfect,” you said, letting the warmth relax you. “You should come in.”

He grinned, not needing to be asked twice. A second later, he jumped in, the splash hitting Elisa who squealed in annoyance. You couldn’t help but laugh and for a brief moment, you felt vindicated.

Elisa shot Toto an irritated look, but he seemed unbothered, floating over to you and discreetly wrapping an arm around your waist. “You’re not tired of me yet?” he teased softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Not even close,” you whispered back with a smile.

As you drifted together, your gaze wandered to the side of the pool where George sat beside Elisa, watching the two. Noticing his lingering looks, his companion leaned closer and whispered something in his ear, her eyes flicking to you before giving a self-satisfied smile.

Toto followed your gaze, catching George’s glare and his hold on you tightened slightly. His easygoing demeanour didn’t falter, but you could feel the subtle shift in his mood. “Come on,” he whispered, guiding you towards the far pool edge. “Let’s get some space, I’ll show you the sauna.”

Without drawing much attention, the two of you made your way out of the pool, changing out of your wet swimwear and wrapping yourselves in towels as you padded toward the sauna. The small wooden room was warm and inviting, the heat hitting you as soon as you stepped inside. Toto shut the door behind you and at long last, it was just the two of you.

You immediately sat down on the wooden bench, leaning back as the heat started to work its magic on your tired muscles. It was even better than the pool. You closed your eyes and sighed contently “This is heaven.”

“Are you not taking off your towel?” said Toto, sitting on the bench beside you with a creak, his hand resting on your thigh, the casual touch sending a shiver up your spine.

“Huh?” you said, opening your eyes to find a very naked Toto sitting beside you. “Is that a thing here? What if someone sees?”

That earned a deep laugh, “You’re concerned about someone seeing you naked… in a sauna?”

“Yes.” you said, “Why is that so funny?”

“It’s expected here. People will stare at you if you keep the towel on.” Toto teased, “But do what you want, it’s just me.”

Grateful that the dim light of the sauna concealed your creeping blush, you felt silly. “I never knew that, I thought that was a Scandinavian thing.”

Toto mused, stroking your thigh, “You make me laugh.”

“Glad I can keep you entertained,” you said dryly before standing up and whipping your towel off dramatically, baring all in front of him, “Happy now, Mr Wolff?”

“Very.” he said, gripping your hips and pulling you close to him, pressing a kiss to your bare stomach, “Come, sit down.”

Taking your seat once more, the heat enveloped you. This was exactly what you needed to cure your aching muscles. Noticing Toto grab his shoulder and wince, you leaned over and gently started massaging, your fingers gliding over his warm skin.

As your fingers worked their magic, you could feel the tension in Toto's shoulders begin to melt away beneath your touch. “Mmm, that’s good,” Toto said with a teasing grin, his voice low and smooth as he leaned back into your hands. “I might just make you my personal masseuse.”

“Oh, I see how it is. Is that how you plan to keep me around?” you quipped, continuing your gentle kneading. “By making me your travelling spa therapist?”

Toto chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the quiet sauna. “Perhaps. I could get used to this.”

You laughed, your fingers gliding down to his upper back, where the muscles were knotted. “Be careful, I might start charging.”

“Oh really?” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “How much?”

You giggled, the sound mingling with the warmth of the room. “Some cuddling tonight, maybe a ski lesson, another snorkel rescue mission?”

“Deal,” he said, nodding seriously before breaking into a grin. “Although you may have to wait until Summer for any more snorkel action.”

You snorted, “How did you manage to make that sound dirty? You’re lowkey such a dirty old man.”

“Old?” he feigned, “You didn’t call me old last night.”

“Touché.,” you said, admitting, “Last night was… I don’t know what to say.”

Toto turned and quirked an eyebrow, “That bad?”

“Shut up,” you said, playfully batting him on the shoulder before returning to massaging his muscled upper back, “You’re good and you know it.”

“You did tell me the sex on the yacht was the best you’d ever had.” He grinned, clearly enjoying this.

“Did I really?” you said, cringing slightly. “Well, top ten, I guess.”

“Ten?” he replied, grabbing your hand and dragging it down his chest, getting dangerously lower.

“Okay, top five,” you said, your breath quickening as you sensed where this was heading.

“That’s more like it,” he said, turning his head slightly to catch your eye. “But seriously, you should know that I felt the same way.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth that had little to do with the sauna. “High praise coming from someone so… old,” you replied with a teasing lilt.

His eyes glinted with mischief as he replied, “Old enough to know a good thing when I see it.”

Before you could respond, he pulled you around into his lap, capturing your lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss. When he finally pulled back, you both took a moment to breathe, your foreheads resting against each other. “Wow,” he said, his voice husky. “I could get used to that.”

You giggled softly, pressing your bare chest against his, feeling his heart pounding as much as yours was, “Me too.”

As you dipped for another kiss, laughter echoed from outside the sauna. In the heat of the moment you’d forgotten that the sauna was open to all.

“Great,” Toto murmured, rolling his eyes.

“I told you we should’ve brought the drinks!” Sam’s voice rang out, followed by Darren’s cheerful agreement. “Gotta stay hydrated.”

As they approached the door, you could hear them debating whether to just walk in. “Hold up, where did Toto go?” Darren suggested, his voice growing louder.

“Maybe we should put the towels back on?” you whispered to Toto, glancing down at your bare skin, feeling a rush of shyness wash over you.

“Maybe,” he replied with a grin, gripping your ass firmly, “but where’s the fun in that?” He looked at you with a glimmer of mischief, pulling you closer to him, covering your modesty with his hands, “I won’t let them see anything.”

Suddenly, the door swung open and Sam and Darren burst in, eyes wide with surprise. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed, “Sorry to interrupt!”

“Yeah,” Darren added, his face furiously red before he span around dramatically, “We’ll come back later.”

You quickly reached for your towel, as Toto shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “We were just enjoying the heat. No big deal.”

“Right,” Sam said, desperately looking anywhere but in front of him. “We’ll just grab a drink and give you some space. Would you like anything?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up even more, glancing at Toto, who was doing his best to keep a straight face. “We’re okay for now,” you replied, still smiling but feeling the warmth of embarrassment.

“Suit yourselves,” Sam said, stumbling as he turned to head back outside. “Sorry again boss.”

As the door swung shut, Toto looked at you, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. “Well, that was a great way to kill the mood.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, carefully lifting yourself off Toto’s lap and returning to your seat beside him, “I suppose we’ll have to pick up where we left off later?”

“Definitely,” he said, his eyes twinkling with promise.

You settled back onto the bench, rewrapped your towel and leaned your head on his shoulder, letting the gentle steam of the sauna envelop you both. So much for a moment alone, but you knew that you’d have time later that evening.

SATURDAY EVENING

Dinner that night was a lively affair, the long wooden table filled with laughter and the rich aroma of fondue. The fire crackled in the background, adding warmth to the room. Marion and John, ever the social butterflies, kept the conversation flowing smoothly, while Greta and Klaus flitted around the table, ensuring the wine glasses were constantly topped up.

Sam and Darren, who were usually more vocal, sat noticeably quieter across from you and Toto. You caught their occasional glances and exchanged a knowing look with Toto, both of you aware of what was on their minds.

Once dinner plates were cleared away, Marion stood up with a gleam in her eye. "Earlier, Toto suggested a games night!" she announced, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm. "And as you all know, I love a good wager. How about we start with charades?"

Excited murmurs spread through the group. Greta handed out pens and paper and soon the room filled with the sound of scribbling as everyone jotted down increasingly ridiculous charade suggestions. You glanced at Toto, wondering if he had something difficult planned for his picks. He caught your eye and winked, of course, he wouldn’t make this easy.

As the group settled in, Marion distributed a bowl for everyone to drop their slips of paper into. Just as you were about to dive into the game, Marion, her voice tinged with mischief, turned to the group, her eyes landing on George. “You know, this reminds me of that night on Toto’s yacht when we played Never Have I Ever,” she said with a grin.

John perked up immediately. “Ah yes, that was quite a night,” he said. You gulped as you recalled George taking things too far that night.

George immediately shifted in his seat, already knowing where this was headed. His cheeks flushed as Marion continued, unable to resist. “George, you were so embarrassed!” she teased, nudging him. “What was it you said during that game that had everyone in stitches?”

James chimed in, his grin widening. “Something about walking in on Toto in the garage in a, let’s say, compromising position.”

George’s face turned bright red as everyone started to chuckle, “I was tipsy, alright? I said more than I should’ve,” he muttered, clearly still embarrassed from that particular memory. “Sorry again Toto.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Toto reassured him, trying to stay stoic.

At that, Darren and Sam exchanged a look and Sam couldn’t resist joining in the teasing. “Speaking of compromising positions,” he said, leaning back in his chair, a smirk spreading across his face. “Darren and I had quite the walk-in moment earlier today.”

“Oh no,” you murmured under your breath, feeling the heat rise to your face as you realized where this was going. It was your turn to be embarrassed.

Sam leaned in, his voice low but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Let’s just say we walked in on Toto… in a very compromising situation.”

Darren snickered. “Yeah, in the sauna of all places.”

All eyes turned toward you and Toto as a ripple of nervous laughter spread across the group. Sam and Darren were younger members of the team and it was rather bold of them to tease their boss in his own home.

Toto's face tightened and his jaw clenched slightly, “Sam...” he warned.

Sam, undeterred, kept going. “Oh, don’t worry, Toto wasn’t alone.” He winked at the group, his grin only growing wider.

“Oh?” John said, sparking up, clearly enjoying where this was headed.

Darren laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, turns out the sauna wasn’t just for relaxing, if you know what I mean.”

The group erupted into laughter, Marion gasped in mock shock, though a grin tugged at her lips. “Toto! And here I thought you were the gentleman of the group.”

Sam, encouraged by the reactions, waggled his eyebrows and added, “You should’ve seen his face. The man was living his best life.”

George glowered, throwing you an angry look before Elisa tapped him on the arm, whispering something in his ear that seemed to calm him down, as she did earlier.

Toto, his patience visibly thinning, folded his arms, his voice low and sharp. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Sam and Darren exchanged a glance, still amused but sensing they were treading on thin ice. “Okay, okay,” Darren said, holding his hands up, “But you can’t blame us, you did say we could use the sauna any time.”

“Yeah, next time maybe put a do not disturb sign?” Sam quipped, though his voice had softened, knowing they’d pushed Toto to his limit.

“Or a Mercedes-branded tie over the door handle,” said George, joining in with his friends, having stayed quiet until now. You shot him a look and he shrugged, not worried about angering Toto.

Toto shot the three younger men a hard look before leaning back in his chair, clearly done with their teasing. “I’ll remember that for next time,” he said flatly, his voice edged with annoyance.

Marion, sensing the tension, tried to keep the situation light-hearted. “Oh, you three,” she said, shaking her head at Sam, Darren and George. “Let them have their fun in peace.”

“Alright, alright, we’ll drop it,” Sam said, suitably chastised.

“Well then,” John jumped up, clapping his hands, “I think we’ve embarrassed enough people for one night. Shall we get on with charades?”

Everyone eagerly shifted their focus back to the impending game of charades, following John’s lead as he moved to the living room.

“We’ll split into two teams,” Marion announced, “Who’s ready to make a fool of themselves?”

The group quickly divided into teams and took their places on opposite sofas. It was men vs women, with you, Cara, Marion and Elisa teaming up against Toto, George, John, James, Sam and Darren.

“Hang on, I think the boys have an advantage!” said Marion, reaching out to grab her husband by the crook of his arm, “John joins us.”

John shrugged his shoulders before plopping himself down on the sofa beside his wife, “Sorry guys, I have no choice.”

“That’s okay, we’ll still win.” said James, “Cara is an automatic handicap.”

“You are awful, you’re sleeping on the balcony tonight” quipped Cara, throwing her husband a dirty look.

– – –

During a lull in the game, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, grabbing another bottle of wine for the group, Greta and Klaus having gone to bed for the night. The soft sound of footsteps behind you made you turn and there was George, standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning against the counter.

“Hey,” you replied, suddenly feeling like you were back in the past, caught in a moment that didn’t quite fit the present. George had been giving you funny looks all evening but Elisa had been glued to him so you hadn’t spoken much.

There was an awkward pause before George finally spoke again. “So, I guess this is really happening, huh?”

You frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

He glanced towards the doorway leading back to the others, then back at you. His voice lowered, more serious now. “You and Toto. It’s serious, isn’t it?”

The question landed heavily between you, far weightier than it should’ve been. The conversation felt loaded, fraught with things left unsaid. You thought you’d been clear when you last spoke in your flat, and you both had supposedly made peace with the past. Now, it seemed like old wounds were still festering beneath the surface.

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “George… we’ve been through this.”

“I know,” he said quickly, cutting you off with a sigh. He shoved his hands into his pockets as if bracing himself. “But seeing you two. I don’t know. Guess I thought I’d be more okay with it by now.”

His words hung in the air, the weight of them pulling you both into an uncomfortable silence. This wasn’t fair, to you or to him. You’d thought that chapter was closed and he’d moved on with Elisa, even if their dynamic was a little strange at times.

Before you could respond, Toto appeared in the doorway, his expression sharp as he took in the scene. “Everything okay in here?”

The air between the three of you crackled with tension.

George straightened, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

Toto’s eyes didn’t leave George’s face. “Good,” he said coolly. “Look, I know this has not been easy for anyone but we are all adults and you have Elisa now, don’t forget. I invited you here because I want things to be easier going forward, for all of us. And for what it’s worth, I value your friendship, George. I know I’ve let you down.”

George didn’t back down, but after a tense beat, he gave a curt nod, not saying a word and walked past Toto, brushing his shoulder as he went. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

Toto turned to you, his expression softening. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, though the knot in your chest hadn’t fully loosened. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

He studied your face for a moment longer, as if searching for something unsaid before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered for a beat longer than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You didn’t ask what he was apologising for, whether it was for inviting George, for the difficult position you were both in or for the emotions this trip had stirred up. Maybe it was all of it.

– – –

The night wound down with everyone in good spirits, but you couldn’t shake the weirdness of the conversation in the kitchen with George. After the games and the laughter, you found yourself in the bedroom with Toto, tucked up in bed while he got ready.

“Do you think that George still has feelings for me?” you asked as Toto made his way out of the bathroom.

He didn’t react at first, remaining silent as he pulled back the covers and slipped in beside you, his expression unreadable as he rested against the headboard. “I know he does,” he said quietly.

You looked at him, waiting for more, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Toto…” you began, the words coming out before you could stop them. “Does it bother you?”

He sighed, finally turning to face you, “It doesn’t bother me that he has feelings for you,” he said after a moment. “But it bothers me that you seem worried about it.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say.

“I trust you,” Toto added, his tone calm but firm. “But if George’s feelings are going to be an issue, we need to deal with it..”

You nodded, appreciating his straightforwardness. “You’re right. I just… I didn’t expect it to be this complicated.”

“Life’s always complicated,” he said, “But we’ll figure it out.”

You turned away from Toto, your back to him, lost in thought. It wasn’t long before you felt him wrap an arm around you, pulling you close, but the warmth that usually comforted you felt different tonight. There was an unspoken tension and as sleep slowly crept in, you wondered if this was just the beginning of something much more complicated.

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minkdelovely · 7 months ago

Text

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter ten: part two

“i won’t die for love but ever since i met you you could have my heart and i would break it for you.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: nothing scary to report here — welcome to your happy ending 💖

word count: 8k

author’s note: cherished ones… i can’t believe we’re finally here at the end 🥲 it’s taken me much longer than anticipated to get this out, but i hope it’s worth the wait. allow me to extend my sincere gratitude to you all for hanging in there and going on this journey with me and this series. this started out as pure self-indulgence and turned into something much more along the way and i hope this is received by you as the gift i intended it to be. they’re not off the album i used as the platform for this series, but feel free to listen to rain and take me back to eden by sleep token, which i listened to A LOT while writing this. thank you again for all of your kindness and support. i truly don’t think i could have finished this without it 💖

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The last couple days had been… good.

Vaggie had approached you the morning after your little sleepover with Angel to see if you’d actually take her up on the offer of managing the hotel’s books. It was a welcome distraction, easily falling back into the routine of your old work. And honestly, their records keeping system needed a complete overhaul. It kept you busy and focused, hours passing like minutes as you honed in on creating the foundations of your system.

Funny how in Hell the work you had always approached with a level of disdain in life had become something to look forward to. Something that was all yours. It was nice. Familiar.

Ironic.

You also hadn’t gone to the bar — the biggest improvement, or at least the one you were happiest about. Feeling more like yourself again and less like your father, who had been no stranger to bouts of liquored-up sulking. It was not a way you wanted to remember him by, nor make a habit of for the eons to come. And beyond just feeling better without alcohol in your system, it was great to see Husk in a more friendly capacity again. Haunting his bar in the way you did wasn’t something you were ever planning to subject either of you any time soon.

You were regaining a level of comfortability in your room as well. Sleeping better in your bed, which had been difficult to do. For the first few days you slept on the loveseat, where you’ve now spent the last two nights curled up with a book in front of the fireplace.

It was a decent distraction, but thoughts of Alastor still plagued you. Try as you might, it was hard for them not to. He felt so present as you went about your day despite maintaining the separation; feeling his aura hovering around you like a sixth sense. You wanted to ask Husk and Niffty if they felt it like you did — if at all — but hadn’t gotten the nerve yet to do so.

What if they said no?

It was too embarrassing even to think of. The possibility of it being some kind of adverse affect from sleeping with him making your blood rush to your face.

Maybe I took a piece of him, too…

The heat on your cheeks intensified at the thought. Isn’t that exactly what had happened?

Sure, in a literal sense he had been the one to take a piece of you. But in return, you had witnessed him in yet another state that no one else — in this building, at least — ever had. Just the fact that he had let you help undress him… That wasn’t something you look lightly, even at the peak of your anger toward him. The nervous way your heart fluttered against your ribs at the memory only further proved the point.

You wanted the opportunity to do it again. Undress him, that is.

What followed after wasn’t of much consequence; you’d be satisfied just the same. Whether that was helping him out of his day clothes and into pajamas or preparing him to pound you into the mattress — either result was made from the same circumstance. You found you had enjoyed it even more than dressing down his bed for the evening, which had always been a nearly meditative part of your day.

Or, well… it used to be.

Did he even bother with that now? Hell, did he ever? Or was it just more busywork? If it was… you missed it.

Taking care of Alastor was tedious at times but it hadn’t been all bad. He was petulant too, which is probably why he was always deflecting and pointing the finger in your face. But past his venom there was charm. His euphemisms and anecdotes. Grumbling into the newspaper with his ears downcast whenever he came across an unpleasant article, which happened more often than not.

He enjoyed his coffee black and extra hot, but god forbid if it was burnt. That was one of the first things you had been tasked with perfecting, and mercifully, had been able to accomplish. Alastor never made you handle his food, not out of lack of trust but courtesy. Due to the gruesome reality of what he enjoyed eating, it wasn’t a chore he ever charged you with. And you’d busy yourself with cleaning while he ate to allow him as much privacy as possible.

As much as he adored the structure of his morning routine, beyond that the day was his for the taking. Living the monotonous life that you had, it was admirable. Sometimes inspiring. He had a mischievous, opportunistic outlook on existence — no doubt a quality that followed him into the afterlife — while you had been (presumably) buried jaded and trepidatious.

He was… fun. Even when he was irritating.

Before Rosie pawned you off on him, the last time you had ever felt something close to fun was killing your grandmother. A horrifying revelation, but true, though that had more to do with the satisfaction you felt from it than anything. But fun was something that was right at your fingertips with Alastor, when you looked back on the last couple weeks. He had quite the proclivity for antics when he wasn’t being crushed by the weight of his self-imposed grandeur.

The memory of when he brought you back to the alley the day after what you had done came to mind. His inspection of the bag you’d left behind had upset you so much in the moment, but now all you can remember is the glimmer in his eyes. The nearly childlike glee in his fanged smile. Sure, it had been at your expense, but that was how he liked to joke. Satire and whimsy adorned with the pretty bow of his voice and charm.

But his jokes were sometimes too one-sided. His delivery too harsh and actions… demeaning. It wasn’t a facet he aimed at you often but the sting of his cruelty ran deep, almost to the bone. Your hand came up to your throat, the pain in your neck only barely subsided. It had been impossible to tell if the chain had bruised you under all of Alastor’s love bites, but if you were being honest with yourself, there was no way it hadn’t. If even just a little.

You made due with covering yourself up. Managing to find some high-collared button up shirts left to rot in the laundry room. Nothing a good washing wasn’t able to fix. And as the days passed and the marks faded, you were able to transition back into more familiar (and revealing, in comparison) pieces of your wardrobe.

Still, being left to your own devices when Alastor had been the one responsible for not only the marks but ruining the dress that would’ve easily solved your problems with its modesty nicked at you. Not that you had expected gifts after the argument, but considering how he made you wear that dress as uniform there was no way he didn’t have plans to provide a replacement that morning. But it never came.

Instead he had given you a threat and left you on the floor in nothing but a towel, feeling used and humiliated and alone. And yet here you were, with a book in your hand you hadn’t absorbed the last few pages of because your mind was busy remembering the feeling of removing Alastor’s coat.

Or how disheveled and boyish he looked the morning you went into his room without permission and found him in bed. The strain in his eyes before you walked into Valentino’s arms. His drawn brows and open, kiss-swollen mouth when he made you his own on the bed right behind you. That face would haunt you for the rest of your afterlife.

But there was another face that earned the honor, too. An expression that eclipsed even your grandmother’s worst sneer. Was what you said to him that morning really so outrageous that it had warranted such wrath and disdain? Alastor had been in quite a decent mood too, before the conversation took a turn. Not that it made you feel any better, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something bigger than that. You had copped attitude before and Alastor had either laughed it off as a mild tantrum or course-corrected you before you even had a chance to realize it.

Beyond that, there were also the things he had done after you fell asleep, face buried in his scarred chest. The medicine he had waiting at the ready for when you inevitably woke up from the ache of his bite, which he had taken the liberty of cleaning and bandaging. He had more than likely done it by hand as well, the same as when he tended to it on your bed that awful morning. No magic, no minions. Despite being the least he could do since he inflicted the wound, that didn’t mean he had to do it himself. But he did.

Your stomach turned thinking about it. The force of his anger just didn’t match up with the efforts he took in caring for you after your entanglement. It was the push and pull you had been battling all week, and your eyes flitted to the door. Going up to his room wasn’t something you had entertained, knowing better than to try and call Alastor’s bluff, but the desire to speak with him now was a temptation you worried you’d lose the battle against.

Knock.

The single, hollow sound echoing off the door sent a jolt through your body, sitting up from your relaxed position on the small sofa near the fireplace. It was Friday, wasn’t it? Meaning everyone had left the hotel already except for you and…

There’s no way.

Your pulse spiked.

Maybe you just imagined it. Or the hotel was settling. Things like that could still happen to buildings in the afterlife, right? Ghosts and hauntings and creaks and groans seemed fairly on-brand for Hell. Alastor’s shadow — that you had found yourself missing as well — was proof of that all on its own.

It was that final thought that brought you to the door, hand hovering over the knob as your breath thinned; perspiration beading your skin like morning dew. Tormented by the prospect that opening it would either reveal him or nothing at all.

Unsure of which you were hoping for as you let your forehead fall forward, a huff of air passing your lips. Eyes closed as you relaxed into the cool lacquer of the wooden door, reaching out. Alastor felt especially close now. Typical that he would show up now that you were not only beginning to feel better, but also reaching the end of your rope in your banishment from him. If you weren’t too busy fighting the whiplash of frustration and want coursing through you, you would have laughed.

Even reconciliation had to be on his schedule…

If he was actually on the other side of the door wanting to make up, of course. This could all be your imagination, which would be particularly cruel on your mind’s part considering how just moments ago you were feeling so desperate to see him, if only just to talk. You sighed, condensation from your warm breath pilling under your mouth hovering near the door.

Was he really there?

Your hand gripped the handle in response, heart heavy and loud in your chest as you turned it and pulled. There was only one way to know for sure.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor took you in as you opened the door. An apprehensive expression on your face, but with an underlying relief. Though he didn’t need eyesight for the confirmation. Your heartbeat and scent told him all he needed to know with an honesty that betrayed you for his benefit. It was rather unfair, wasn’t it?

The life coming back to your eyes did not go unnoticed, either.

He felt what was left of his vitriol drain out of him, and in a rare moment of self-deprecation he found himself hoping his unpolished state would put you at ease. Despite the lingering tension that was still eating away at him, he truly did wish to avoid an argument. Shouting matches were simply… nasty. In a way he did not much, if at all, enjoy.

Conversation is called an art for a reason.

A true favorite of his and it was much more his speed. With such an adaptable form you could be fencing one minute and duetting the next. Unless, of course, the conversation was bad, which was a fate worse than death. But that hadn’t been a problem with you, for the most part. He’d like that to be the case now as he prepared to linger for as long as it took to reach some kind of resolution.

Things couldn’t stay the way they were. He knew you’d both return to yourselves eventually, but you had gotten a head start on him. Leaving him to grasp at what was on the other side of this only in regard to himself. If ever he needed you, you’d be just a summoning away. Tied to him always by your contract. Something that typically provided a sense of security to the point of aloofness. But the uncertainty of how you would approach your days independent of him in the aftermath made him falter. Made evident by the color that had returned to your face, that spark of ferocity in your eyes.

Deep down he understood that you would carry on.

Tied to him, yes, but not entangled. There was an unpleasant tightness in his chest at the thought, his jaw flexing with irritation. He wasn’t through exploring this, relishing the fire he felt in his blood at seeing you again up close, lungs taking in your scent to feed the flame. Your racing heart a sonnet so sweet in a way that only he could truly appreciate. Feeding a part of him that either had not existed or had been lying dormant which, now awakened, was eager for more and he found himself wondering when it ever would be satiated.

More of your voice ringing in his ears, whether it was coated in insolence or lust… or laughter. More of your scent in his lungs, oxygenating his blood with the bliss of childhood summers. More of your taste on his tongue. Blood, sweat, tears. He’d take it all, or whichever morsels you were still willing to give him. Even if all that left him with was cordiality, it would be far better than letting you slip through his fingers. How wasted you would be on some tramp off the street. Not even taking into account that the average soul couldn’t appreciate your scent, attributes like responsibility and integrity weren’t typically admired here in the pit.

Who else could see you the way he did?

Past the pout of your lips to the lethal fangs hiding behind them; that sleeping anger you managed to keep at bay but weren’t afraid to use if necessary. Would you ever reveal that ferocity and glowing eyes to someone else in the ways he had witnessed them — induced by tapping into some of your baser instincts? It made stomach twist just to think it.

Alastor’s imagination began to run away from him then. Flashes of you making some other sinner’s bed, fetching their coffee, and picking up clothes. Drawing a bath, hanging their coat, laughing at their jokes. That now-dear sulk of yours aimed at the faceless menace when one of those jokes went too far. Phantom hands stripping you of clothes, cupping your face, roaming your body… holding your chin. And though his urges were few and far between, worse still was the thought of you crying out a stranger’s name like a reverent prayer, writhing underneath them as you fell apart.

Foul.

Bile scorched his throat as he fought to maintain his composure in your doorway. The filthy handprints he had just pictured all over you gone in the blink of an eye as his own hand twitched behind his back, eager to hold you once more and feel the heat of your skin soak into his palm. Easy as it would be to reach out and satisfy the urge he refrained from doing so, smothering his desire in his fist. Now wasn’t the right time to succumb to impulse.

As much as Alastor wanted to pull you into his embrace he knew there was still a hatchet to bury. You had touched quite the nerve that morning, after all, and his actions had been less than genteel as a result. As justified as he had felt at the time, it settled in now as something he was less than proud of. Warranted… What a fool he was to think so. Though misguided, all you had done was try to make sense of things. You would be well within your rights to sever any further personal ties with him, and he swallowed against the anxious lump in his throat.

He had spent so much time wallowing in liquor, wasted countless hours justifying his anger toward you to ease his own unrest. Even if you had picked the fight… hadn’t he brought you right to the edge of it with his antics over the past weeks? In truth, hadn’t making you lose your composure been his goal from the start? He had certainly got what he wanted, just not in a way that was originally intended; culminating in a misunderstanding that threatened to keep parts of yourself locked away from him for, quite possibly, eternity.

Desiring someone’s comfort the way he did yours was something he never expected to have to face, let alone something he ever feared to lose. Alastor wondered for the first time how things between you would be had you met sooner. Granted, you had only been in Hell for two-or-so months, but he was a different man now than he was even then. The Alastor of two months ago still had his microphone, for starters. His sword and shield. Now nothing but another one of his corpses left to decay in the bayou.

That man hadn’t had his confidence shaken, his power drained. Alastor had felt so invigorated when he retreated to the radio tower to mend himself after battling Adam, but the healing process hadn’t been simple. Seeing as the weapon that caused the wound was made of angelic steel, Alastor expected it would take more time than usual, but he had underestimated the reality of it. So many arduous, slow hours had passed as he used all his strength just to make minute progress in closing the gash. It took a week to finally get it to seal, the scar barely formed by the time he encountered you at Rosie’s.

Simply put, you had weathered emotional storms that he typically had much better control of. There was a sourness in his soul that had been poisoning him from the very beginning of your relationship, which you took — more often than not — in stride. As much as he felt there was no one who fully appreciated you, Alastor believed it to be a two way street. Whether there was anyone else who could take your place — paramour, caretaker, or otherwise — was inconsequential. He simply wasn’t interested in the prospect. Hadn’t he gotten along just fine in his relative solitude before you fell to suffer your infernal fate?

It wouldn’t be the same.

It already wasn’t, in fact, which is why his feet had brought him here when his stubbornness wouldn’t. Opening the door to him was only the first step. You could still slam it in his face, effectively shutting him out; leaving him standing alone in the hall as the Overlord who owned your soul and nothing more.

He found it to be a dreadful prospect.

“May I come in?”

Even he could hear the exhaustion in his voice, making the question heavy in air as he watched you contemplate. Nervous fingers tapping the doorframe to the same beat as his heart before you stepped off to the side to make way for him. Alastor managed to fight the instinctual twitch at the corners of his mouth. Now wasn’t the time for smiling, despite the wave of relief he felt at your accepting of his request to enter.

As long as it takes…

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You watched as Alastor practically collapsed on your sofa, massaging his temples with a single hand as he leaned back to cross his legs. Still doing his best to maintain decorum despite how worn out he was. Discontent, you shifted on your feet, not wanting to give into the pity you felt towards him too easily.

As much as you tried to remember your anger, there was no denying the relief you felt at being near him again. Hearing his voice. And knowing he could pick up on it only made it worse. Would it ever be anything but an uphill battle for you when it came to him? Your eyes couldn’t help but look just past him to where you had fallen to the floor, left to console yourself in your shame and grief. The memory didn’t fuel what was left of your animosity, but pricked at your sadness instead, making you feel the weight of the day.

I’m so sick of this…

Alastor’s gaze followed you as you moved to take your seat next to him, picking your book up off the cushion and placing it on the small coffee table in front of you. His eyes and hand lingered on the cover as you sat down.

“I just missed the first draft,” he said quietly, static replaced with the distant sound of remembrance. Eyes never leaving your copy of A Farewell to Arms as he continued with a small, humorless laugh. “I was eligible for the others but the only Divisions I could have been placed in were booked. Funny, isn’t it, a quota on the worthiness to die at war? But I suppose that’s a conversation for another time…”

The glimpse of his human life caught you off guard. Vulnerability wasn’t something you expected from him, especially not in the wake of your argument; the admission was given so casually you couldn’t help but soften just a bit, leaving you hungry for more of his secrets.

He turned to you then, somehow looking even more tired than he had before. “We have our own battle to rectify, don’t we?”

You sighed and positioned your body to face him, bringing your legs up to sit criss-cross. This was shaping up to be a long night, so you decided you might as well get this out of the way. Even managing to get a piqued eyebrow out of him from the sober look that was no doubt on your face as you considered what you were about to say.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you that I enjoyed our…,” you trailed off, looking for the right word.

Our what?

Things had become so muddled you weren't quite sure what to call it. Sex, obviously, but… it had felt like more to you in the end. No matter how many times you reminded yourself that it wasn’t supposed to be anything other than a one night stand at best — and had spent the whole week drowning your sorrows trying not to think about the worst.

“I know you weren’t.” He said it in almost the same tone when you had admitted it in the first place, but his eyes were soft. “I enjoyed it myself, the second time. I thought that was obvious, but when you asked about the pheromones that morning… they had nothing to do with it. Not that evening. I… initiated that. Which is why I was so incensed by the implication that I was acting outside of myself.”

The confession sunk to the bottom of your stomach. You hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming and even keeled regarding it. And while you felt relief that the pheromones weren’t at play that evening — and that he had not only enjoyed, but desired it — you didn’t miss the implication of the words he kept to himself regarding how you ended up in this mess in the first place. The more you thought about it, the more you were beginning to understand why he felt the way he did. Was that why he had returned you to your room to wake up alone, because being in his bed was too much of a reminder? Had he really regretted it that much?

Because you didn’t.

The truth was you had been more than willing to give yourself to him that afternoon. Yes, you knew something wasn’t quite right, but you didn’t know he was fighting against Valentino’s nasty little trick. You’d never know what would’ve happened if you had denied him instead, because that’s not what happened. Would he have gone into a rage? In the state he was in, that wasn’t an impossibility. In fact, that was what you had been expecting, wasn’t it? In a way you dodged a bullet — received his affections, however intense, instead of his violence. The bruised remnants of his mark on your shoulder were a dizzying mix of both.

Though the ferocity you received the next morning… had it been lying in wait? Using the chain on you the way he did compounded by the words he spat at you was a tough memory to forget, to the point where you wondered if you ever could. He had only punished you that way one other time, but it had been nothing compared to this. Blood burned under your cheeks as you recalled how humiliated you felt. How different would things be right now if he had just let you stay?

“Look I…,” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, but resisted the urge to look away from him. “I really do understand why you’re unhappy with how things happened that afternoon but…”

Here goes nothing.

“It’s something I’ve been aware of in myself for a little while but… you don’t know how much it meant to me, being touched that way by you and how you let me touch you back it —” You wiped a tear you couldn’t stop from falling and cleared your throat, but the thick, choking feeling didn’t subside. The pinched look on Alastor’s face nearly sent you over the edge, but you couldn’t stop now that you’ve started. He needed to hear this as much as you needed to say it. “It made me really happy, if that’s even the right word for it.”

It wasn’t. But you didn’t know how else you could try to tell him how wanted and safe you felt underneath him. That no one had ever managed to turn your blood to kerosene; every bit of him the match, the bed behind you kindling. At this point it didn’t really matter that you hadn’t known him for very long. You cared about him, much more than you ever expected to, and you wanted to be near him in whatever capacity you could be. Whether that made you his errand girl or concubine, so long as you were spared from the more acidic side of his temper.

“And when I think about how much you regret it, it kills me, even though I know why you do. But… I don’t. You didn’t take advantage of me, if that’s something you’ve been worrying about. Honestly, now I can’t help but wonder if it’s the other way around…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed, lightly exasperated as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve only ever gone along with my impulses and games. My behavior in this has been… unbecoming. I fear my mother would be quite ashamed, and rightfully so, but you’ve come to know me at a low point.”

Everything about him felt wrung out and far off, from his posture to the defeat in his unfiltered voice. It had been absent from the moment he asked to come inside, but for some reason was only hitting you now. Though you couldn’t fight the ache in your heart from the poor state of him, there was still more you needed to know before you could let yourself give in. No matter what subconscious queues your body was undoubtedly feeding him in the meantime.

“You say unbecoming…,” you began tentatively, worried that what you were about to ask could possibly upset him again. “Is that because of how you punished me that morning, or the toying you’ve subjected me to?”

If you had to choose, you really hoped that he’d feel apologetic for the chain. While they could be annoying, his games and tricks were mostly harmless. You had admitted to yourself not too long ago that you were even beginning to miss them. That was not a feeling you extended to the invisible leash that bound you to him, not the way it had been used then, at least.

Alastor removed the hand from his nose to meet your eyes, the speed of his movement catching you off guard. For the first time all night his eyes were clear and earnest; that steadfast, hypnotizing red you had come to seek and cherish.

“Would you accept it if I said both? By pushing you I think I may have set us up for the argument. I won’t say that what you said that morning didn’t upset me, since it did, but… Perhaps if I had given you less reason to think I was playing at another game it would have never happened in the first place.”

His voice was soft as he held his left hand out to you, a different charge in the air as your eyes broke contact to flicker down to his open palm.

The olive branch.

There was no doubt he could hear the way your heart had picked up, nearly choking you with its fervor as you swallowed against it… and gave him your hand.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“I was so humiliated that morning… I’ve been so mad at you.”

Alastor could hear the tears threatening to spill behind the statement, and he squeezed your hand before his thumb began to rub in soothing circles as you looked away from him for the first time that night. He took a quick moment to follow your line of sight and grimaced when he realized you were looking at the spot where he had treated you so harshly. There was nothing he could do to take back what he did. Regret was such an awful weight, reminding him of long nights trudging through the swamp to discard one of his victims. His mouth soured. It would seem he’d need to add your name to the list.

Things were never meant to end up this way. This… tangled.

He dared to lean forward, not that there was much distance to close on your quaint loveseat, and cupped your face with his other hand to draw your gaze back to his. The conflict in your eyes went right to his stomach with a kick — the chance that you would turn him away forever still there, but he was thankful you hadn’t rejected his touch. He really couldn’t have suffered through the empty ache in his hands for even another minute; the heat of your skin already refilling his cup.

And despite how much he wanted anything but, he knew he had to give you an out. It was only right.

“I was a brute… I can’t undo what’s been done but if you’d like me to leave you alone, I will. I’m not keen on releasing you from our contract, but I would let you leave this hotel if you wish.” The words scorched his tongue, but they were true. He would let you go if that’s what you really wanted. You deserved that chance. “It’s safer here, but I would know immediately if you faced any trouble. Well… any trouble you couldn’t handle yourself, that is. I know how capable you are.”

Alastor gave you a small smile, the first time his lips had curled up with any sincerity for days. It was the most generous offer he had ever given a soul under his heel, and your short, dry laugh in response was music to his ears. There was no bitterness in the sound, nor was there any coming from your scent, but that wasn’t an indication of what was going on in your mind. Something the Overlord needed to remind himself of more often. He took a moment to really breathe you in then, floral notes of almond warming him on the inside as your body warmed him from out. Would it be the last time he was ever surrounded by you like this?

He didn’t know when his thumb began to absently stroke your cheek, but he loved the flush it brought to your face as you considered his words. A hint of iron gave the sweetness in the air just enough bite to make him swallow, his throat now parched and wanting. It took all he had not to close the remaining space between you, needing your answer before he would move an inch save the part of him caressing your face.

A jolt ran through him as your eyes locked onto his with a resolve that made his hair stand on edge, and he steeled himself as your lips parted to speak. Never could he have imagined that you would join the short list of people to hold his fate in their palm. And fewer still, one that he didn’t hold resentment toward having that power. There was security in your hold, not malice. Such a rare thing to stumble across even in life, let alone in this sulfurous chasm that had been home for the last near-century. As unworthy as he felt to receive it, the thought of losing it was even worse. He wasn’t in love… but it wasn’t impossible that he could be, with more time.

If you would give it to him.

“I don’t want to leave the hotel,” you said quietly, and brought your free hand up to hold his chin in the same way he had held yours countless times.

Alastor felt his ears lower despite how attuned they were to hear what you would say next, though the thumping in his chest didn’t help. To reach out and touch him of your own accord this way was bold, and he tried not to hone in on the bashfulness he felt burning his face. Why choose shame when he could have comfort? That was what he wanted, after all. A reprieve from The Radio Demon. There was nothing to be gained in postering, not with you. With you he could be… anything. And no matter your decision, he vowed to provide you with the same space.

His schemes to mold you into something you weren’t fled him with every exhale of his lungs. It was a senseless desire… Remorseless murders were a dime a dozen here. Thrilling as it had been to see you decapitate that wretch with your teeth, the fact that you refused to do something akin to that again merely for the sake of it like so many others was refreshing. He could appreciate only killing with purpose. That had been his modus operandi in life, after all. Murder was a tool he now used to illicit fear and respect, though most souls here were free game to him even under his mortal code. You were not, and it had taken him much too long to acknowledge it.

“And I don’t want you to leave me alone… ever again, but…”

But…

The shakiness in your voice felt like the blade of a guillotine, hovering above his neck while he agonized over when you would let the rope loose and seal his fate.

“I don’t know if I could handle that again. The chain, your anger — ” A small sob escaped you then, tearing through him like a hurricane.

Alastor didn’t even realize he was kissing your face until the salt of your tears registered on his tongue. Every little press of his lips an oath to never make you cry like this because of him ever again. And when your hands cupped his cheeks he only had a moment to relish in his relief, sighing against your skin before you captured his lips with yours. A familiar green glow enveloping you both as an unspoken agreement was made.

Peace.

What a magnanimous gift to receive.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Low voices pulled you out of sleep, making you aware of the cold that was beginning to sink into the front of your body. You had been so warm… so comfortable.

Safe.

More mumbling at your door as you groaned, the grievance in the sound not lost on you even in your groggy state. It wasn’t lost on Alastor either, saying something you couldn’t decipher beyond its tone of finality followed by the closing of the door.

“It’s still the middle of the night sweetheart, don’t stir.”

You didn’t even have time to ask who was at the door before he ran a soothing hand through your hair, maneuvering himself back into place in your bed. Pressing the length of his body in close against yours as he nuzzled into your chest, humming as he found the pulse of your heart. The warm, claiming kiss he placed there sent a shiver through you, your shared embrace tightening in response.

“What’s gotten into you? You promised you’d be good,” you mumbled, wriggling a little from the way his breath tickled your skin.

Even to yourself the warning was half-admonishing at best. But you were also just barely awake. Fingers betraying you as they lightly massaged his undercut, his contented sigh making you hide your face in his hair as if he could see the flush on your cheeks.

You’d be stronger in the morning.

Pet names and kisses like this weren’t something you were expecting to receive again so soon. It had been discussed, and you had both agreed to try and take things slow. A fresh start, of sorts. While you were used to him calling you dear, it was a term he used frequently toward other residents as well.

Sweetheart was… special.

Which he no doubt knew. Most likely saying it when he did so he could press up and relish your rapid heart like you were none the wiser.

“I know, I know,” he conceded, his words muffled by your skin. Inadvertently kissing you more due to the sheer proximity of his lips to your chest. Feeling closer to you now than he had during intimacy.

And, admittedly, cuddling in bed wasn’t exactly what you’d call taking it slow. But by the time you had finished talking — and making out on the loveseat — the two of you were so exhausted that letting him spend the night had seemed innocent enough. Like platonically sharing a bed with a friend. Though that’s not a word you would use to describe what Alastor was to you.

More than friends, not quite lovers. Beholden to each other all the same.

“Which is why I’ll only do this… for now.”

Alastor’s words and the warning, low tone of his voice hardly registered before you felt his tongue lap at the valley between your breasts, leaving a scorching trail in its wake that made your breath hitch. The soft groan from his open mouth right over your heart only making it beat harder, pleading for more of him. His large palm splayed against your back as he pressed you against his lips to nestle and kiss and suck, as if trying to pull the frantic organ through your skin through desire alone. You gasped as the light prick of his nails between your shoulders sent a fresh shiver down your spine, ending in a warm bloom between your hips as you curled into his touch. His responding needy hum as he grazed you with his teeth making you whimper.

Stronger in the morning…

“You’re not playing fair,” you complained, but it was a pathetic attempt at a scolding. You didn’t really want him to stop. Alastor’s responding chuckle told you that he knew it, too. The sound of it making your heart ache, and you were unable to suppress the small whine from behind your closed lips as he nipped and licked at your collarbone. “I missed you so much.”

You barely managed to finish speaking when he moved up to kiss you properly, slow and sweet, hand leaving your back to cradle the crown of your head. Melting into his touch, you moaned as his tongue entered your mouth; gentle and hot, coaxing whimpers and gasps from both of you as you tangled your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

“I missed you, too,” he said quietly, nudging your nose with his.

Tears fell unbidden as Alastor caressed and kissed the lingering bruises from his bite, seemingly determined to make them disappear through sheer willpower. Every little touch — administered or received — was comforting in a way that you feared would leave you insatiable, but the thought that formed in your mind through the haze of affection was a reassuring one.

This was eternity.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Fess up, toots.” Angel plopped down on a chair across from you, gleaming as he rested his head in his hands and leaned forward conspiratorially. “You’re havin’ all kinds of sleepovers now, huh?”

You nearly dropped the mug in your hands from the sudden question, and quickly looked around to see if anyone else had overheard. Not that the reconciliation was going to be secret — which would have been impossible to pull off anyway, considering how much the two of you had been moping around the hotel — but you had hoped to at least make it through the morning with the knowledge kept to yourselves.

“That was you at the door last night, I’m assuming?” The nonchalance you were aiming for just enough to get a laugh from him. “What did you say to him anyway?”

“Just that I was checkin’ up on my girl — which he did not appreciate me callin’ ya, by the way — after missin’ the big night out. I hope I didn’t send him to bed too mad.” Judging by the smug look on Angel’s face, he knew that Alastor definitely had returned to bed at least a little ruffled. “Buuut after I heard ya wakin’ up I figured I’d save the teasin’ for another day.”

“And you started bright and early,” you quipped, unable to help the smile tugging at your lips as you went back to preparing the breakfast tray.

“Well ya ain’t exactly bein’ subtle, what with the two mugs and all,” Angel taunted, jerking his head in the tray’s direction, “but jokes aside… I’m glad you were able to patch things up with Smiles. Who woulda thought all it’d take was an empty hotel, huh?” He gave you a wink and you narrowed your eyes at the suggestion, but he cut you off before you could even begin to ask the question forming in your mind. “Look, I gotta run, but I’m expectin’ a full report when I get back from work, capisce? Oh! Speakin’a which — guess who’s supposed to be on set tomorrow?”

It was your turn to laugh. “It’s about time that lazy bitch went back to work. Making the rest of you pick up the slack is just rude.”

You both snickered as you added the finishing touches on the tray, rounding out the coffee with some croissants and fruit. It definitely paid to be in the Princess’ circle; grapes in particular were very hard to come by. There wasn’t much time to relish in your mirth with Angel before you felt a cool, slinking tendril climb up your leg. Alastor’s shadow soon emerging over your shoulder to glare at your friend and whine in your ear.

Angel put all four of his hands up in mock defeat and pushed away from the table. “Duty calls, I get it,” he chuckled and gave you a knowing look, popping a grape from the tray into his mouth before making his way out of the kitchen. “Make sure the boss man knows ya got plans for tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you called after him, glancing behind you as the shadow growled at the spot where Angel Dust had been. Its face reverted back to sullenness when you pursed your lips, admonishing him with only a look. Any lingering irritation dissolved as it tugged at your sleeve, urging you back upstairs, and you conceded with a sigh. “You wouldn’t even be here to come get me if it wasn’t for Angel, you know. I expect you to be nicer next time.”

The shadow nodded its head and pulled on you again, its phantom grin quickly returning when you picked up the tray and began to walk back to the elevators. Baseless hostility toward Angel aside, it was hard not to smile as you watched it flitter across the floor; pausing every few feet to materialize and look back, ensuring you were right behind it. If your theories about this creature were right, it was merely acting as an extension of the demon you were making your way back to, and he was apparently quite eager for your return. A warm rush of pride left your body tingling at the thought.

Then again… it wouldn’t do well for the two of you to be late to your sudden appointment with Rosie. Who, according to Alastor, was very anxious to see you both and had something special planned that he had nothing to do with.

Yeah, right…

When you entered your room, you found Alastor at the loveseat still lounging in his pajamas and you scoffed, “That was a lot of urgency from someone who hasn’t gotten dressed yet.”

“Well, I had to do something. Our mutual friend was getting you off-track. I thought we took the same pleasure in this morning routine of ours, but perhaps I’m mistaken?” Alastor’s tone was light, his smile teasing as he watched the blush burn your face.

You cleared your throat as you took a seat next to him after setting down the tray and decided to change the subject. What point was there in admitting what he already knew?

“Rumor has it that Donny’s finally scheduled back to work tomorrow,” you said conversationally, helping yourself to some of the fruit.

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before his face lit up in a hearty laugh; the ebullient sound of it making the mark he had left over your heart radiate with fondness. His face sharpened with that menacing, debonair grin as he looked down at you while you poured his coffee.

“Took him long enough to pull himself together, didn’t it? You did do quite a number on him, darling.”

You hummed, pleased with the proud look he gave you, and passed him the mug; a shock running through you as your fingers touched. Silly, considering how you had been pressed together all evening… not to mention all the other marks he left that matched the one currently throbbing between your breasts.

Even in life, you never could have imagined something like this. Sitting in the parlor with a suitor, giggling over coffee and breakfast after an evening of whispering sweet nothings between kisses. It would be foolish to think a peace like this could last forever, but this was the afterlife. Wasn’t peace the absolution from mortality and its fickleness? As you watched Alastor sip his coffee, his free hand absently massaging the back of your neck as he hummed along to the radio, you couldn’t help but think so.

Peace, friendship, sanctuary, love, and power.

Hell wasn’t what you had expected it to be. It was home.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

ps: a special shoutout to my darlings @hazelfoureyes and @sugoi-writes for giving me their shoulders to lean on while i worked on this final chapter. you both have listened to me ramble off ideas and scenarios and have supported me with such patience and grace… i don’t know how i’ll ever repay you but i will never stop trying!

pps: i do have plans for an epilogue, but don’t have a timeline on it just yet… stay tuned 😌💖

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @stardustandbrimstone, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts , @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @alastorthirsty, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @fraugwinska, @littlebluefishtail, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #song fic #if i can't have love i want power #love and power #slow burn #hazbin hotel slow burn

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moons-and-mobility-aids · 3 months ago

Text

Content Warnings: Adult content (video of female masturbation, male masturbation), mostly accurate depictions of being an onlyfans creator (hi, I am one), reader is fem, uses a wheelchair, and has cerebral palsy.

The week stretches on, a bit quieter now without your usual messages. The men wouldn't admit it aloud, perhaps not even to themselves, but they're acutely aware of your absence.

It's not as if they aren't busy. There's always content to create, subscribers to engage with, and the constant cycle of filming and editing that never truly ends. But even in the midst of their bustling schedules, there's a sense of something missing, an undercurrent that hums just beneath the surface every time they glance at their OnlyFans inbox.

You're still around, of course—in the form of videos and photos and updates that linger like echoes in their feeds—but it's not the same. The direct line from you to them is silent, its vibrant energy muted by your break. The flirty banter, the warmth of your words seeping through screens, the thrill of that ping heralding a message from you—all absent while you take time for yourself.

They know you're away for personal reasons—James had relayed as much to Remus and Sirius after you'd mentioned you'd be taking a break. None of them pry into why; it's not their place, and they respect your privacy. But that doesn't fill the void left by your absence, doesn't quell the quiet anticipation that stirs within each time their phone lights up with a notification, hoping against hope it might be you.

The moment you come back online, James is, of course, the first to know. A week has passed since your abrupt departure, and he's grown accustomed to checking for your scheduled posts, even if it doesn't feel the same without you there. But today, something is different. As he scrolls through his OnlyFans messages, his heart skips a beat at the sight of your familiar username. There's a message for him.

His pulse quickens as he opens the notification, knowing that this means you're alright and now in touch with him once again.

You: Hey, Prongs! 💖 Thanks again for the generous tip last week—it really meant a lot. I'm feeling much better now and back to answering messages. As a thank-you, I've attached a special video just for you, Moony, and Padfoot. 😘 Hope you all enjoy it!

The text arrives with a video attachment, marked as 'For your eyes only.' It’s an exclusive piece of content, free and specifically tailored for them. His heart begins to pound in his chest—not just from the thrill of new magic, but also from the promise of hearing from you after a week of silence. He can't help but grin, excitement causing his fingertips to tingle.

He sends a quick message to the group chat he shares with Sirius and Remus. Sirius is supposed to be in the middle of filming a custom video, so James knows better than to shout across their flat. And Remus is likely deep into editing, headphones on and world out, so he wouldn’t hear James if he called out anyway.

James: Guess who's back and just sent us a special video?

The response from Sirius is surprisingly instant, the anticipation palpable even through the pixels on the screen.

Sirius: I need to see this! Give me two minutes to clean up.

Remus takes a bit longer, his reply thoughtful as always, yet carrying an undercurrent of curiosity that mirrors your own.

Remus: A special video, huh? Looks like today’s shaping up to be more interesting than I thought.

A chuckle escapes James as he imagines their faces, the three of them huddled together around whatever device they can find, ready to press play. There's an intimacy to this ritual, not just because it ends with them tangled in each other, their bodies humming with release—that's been their dynamic for years now.

James quickly sets up his laptop on the coffee table, deciding that a larger screen might be a nice change. They all settle onto the couch, Sirius still only in his boxers, hair dishevelled from filming. Remus rolls his eyes at the sight, but there's fondness in the gesture, even as they're about to get off to your latest video. The air between them crackles with anticipation, a current that's grown stronger over the past few weeks.

The first glimpse of your face on screen sends a rush through them all, that familiar thrill that comes with each new video. You're in what appears to be your bedroom, the lighting soft and warm against your skin. You're nude, a sight that stirs their blood, but it's your eyes that capture James first—bright and playful, drawing him in even before you speak.

"Hey, Prongs," you purr into the microphone, your voice a sultry melody that wraps around them all. Your legs part wider, the camera angle leaving nothing to the imagination. The sight of your arousal is blatant—a provocation that has Sirius shifting in his seat, his pulse quickening. "Moony, Padfoot... I've been thinking about you lot." A slow, teasing smile spreads across your lips, and James feels a corresponding tug in his gut. "It's been a while, and thought I'd give you something special tonight."

A collective intake of breath fills the room as you lean back, revealing your entire body to the hungry gaze of the camera. Your hand moves, almost casually, to pick up a small device from beside you—a toy James recognises instantly. It's a clit suction vibrator, a recent addition to your videos, but this time it feels different. More intimate, like you're using it just for them.

The toy slips between your thighs, an intimate buzz that makes you gasp. It's not just the sensation, though that sends a warm flush spreading through your body—it's the knowledge of the eyes on you, unseen yet keenly felt.

James' breath hitches as he watches you squirm, the muscles in his thighs tightening with each small movement you make. The heat in his chest flares brighter, hotter—your pleasure reflected back at him, stoking the fire within. His hand itches to mimic the rhythm of your toy, but he stays still, captivated by the sight of you lost in bliss.

Your head tilts back, exposing the curve of your throat—a silent, yearning invitation as you shift your hips against the toy buzzing against your clit. And all the while, your eyes never leave the camera, as if you can see them right there with you, sharing in this intimate moment.

"I've missed you all," you confess, the words barely more than a whisper but laden with longing. "I've been thinking about how you'd react...how much I know you enjoy watching me like this."

A low growl rumbles in Sirius' throat, his hands already working to free his cock from the confines of his boxers. His gaze is glued to the screen, drinking in every detail—the way your chest rises and falls, the slight tremble in your thighs, the soft sighs that escape your lips.

"She knows exactly what she's doing," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire and mirroring the tension coiling tighter within all three men.

James grunts in agreement, already unzipping his jeans to free his aching length, thumb swiping over the tip. There's no room for hesitation, not when you're there, spread out before them, your body reacting to the toy as you climb higher.

Remus's gaze is glued to the screen, his breath hitching as your pleasure mounts, your moans spilling out into the quiet space. He leans back against the couch, hand dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats to wrap around his hardened cock, stroking himself slow and steady. Your voice, quivering with ecstasy, wraps around them tighter than any enchantment. The sensation is intoxicating—overwhelming. It's as if they’re right there with you, watching you unravel at their command.

"I know you've been waiting for this," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the hum of the toy. Your body trembles as another wave hits you, the suction relentless against your swollen clit. "So I'm going to give you exactly what you want."

James's hand moves faster, his knuckles brushing against the rough fabric of his jeans. The sight of you, your body writhing and your voice calling out to them—it's too much, too real. It feels like you're there with them, speaking directly to their deepest desires. He glances at Sirius, whose hand is a blur in his lap, matching the rhythm of your cries.

Remus is quieter, more controlled. His eyes never leave the screen, the tension visible in the set of his jaw, the way his fingers curl around his length. Every gasp you let out is mirrored in the tightening of his grip, the quickening of his breath.

Your hips buck against the toy, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure builds to a crescendo. “I’m so close,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you look into the camera, your eyes dark with desire. “Come with me, all three of you.”

That's all it takes to unravel them. James's body stiffens, his breath catching in his throat as he finds his release, his eyes never leaving the screen where you teeter on the brink of ecstasy. The soft keen that slips past your lips fills the room, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It's just you, your body quaking with pleasure, and them, utterly consumed by the sight.

"Fuck," Sirius groans, his body jerking as he follows suit, surrendering to the relentless pull of desire. Remus is last, his orgasm quieter, more controlled, but the look in his eyes as he shudders and spills over speaks volumes.

The video ends there, with you lying on the bed, a satisfied smile playing on your lips and your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath. You turn your head to face the camera, your eyes gleaming with amusement. "Hope that was worth the wait, guys," you purr, your voice soft and teasing.

And then the screen goes dark.

For a moment, the room is silent save for the sound of their own breathing—shallow, uneven—as they come back to themselves, the afterimages of what they've just seen still burning behind their eyelids. They've watched together before, but this... This was different. More intimate. A glimpse into a part of you they'd only ever imagined.

Sirius is the first to break the silence, letting out a low whistle as he leans back against the couch, his expression unreadable. "Well, fuck me," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face as he tries to make sense of the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "She's... She's something else."

"Isn't she?" James exhales, sinking further into the cushions. His fingers drum against the armrest, a rhythmless melody reflecting the turmoil beneath his calm exterior.

Remus doesn't reply right away, his attention fixed on the now blank screen of the laptop. ”She knows how to get under our skin," he says at last, his voice low and thoughtful, the words barely more than a whisper. Yet they carry a weight that seems to fill the room, pressing down on all three men with an intensity that belies their simplicity.

James lets out a dry chuckle, running a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "That she does, Remus. That she does." He looks at the others, his hazel eyes holding a spark of defiance despite the situation. "And she knows we're hooked."

The three of them sit quietly for a moment, the glow of the screen casting long shadows across the room. The echo of your moans still seem to hang in the air, even though the video has ended. It's strange how quickly this has become a part of their lives—this connection with you, even if it's only through the ether.

They are still getting to know you, still trying to understand what it all means. But one thing is clear: you have their full attention.

As the night deepens, James picks up his phone again, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He takes a moment, considering his words before he types out a response.

ProngsPlayground_free: That was brilliant. You've made our week with that, I swear. 😏 Can't wait to see what you get up to next. Thanks for thinking of us. 💖

He hits send, the satisfaction settling into his bones. What comes next is anyone's guess, but they're content to let the events unfold as they may. With you back online, there's no doubt things are about to get interesting again.

Taglist: @alohastitch0626

#Poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfic #beyond the screen

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seonghwaddict · 2 years ago

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★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 001 ] over my dead body.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. suggestive comments, swearing, wooyoung being an annoying piece of shit. word count. 1.1k

　　　　　　　　chapter i // chapter ii

"The groups have already been decided and the list can be found on the bulletin outside. See you all next week." And with that, your professor walked out of the studio and left your classmates scrambling to get out of class and find the list.

All things considered, your day could have been worse. Yes, you'd gone to bed at 5 am and woken up at 7 to your housemate blasting music in the bathroom as she showered. Though, that was a daily occurrence, being mad over it just didn't make sense anymore. Yes, when you got into the shower and turned on the water without paying attention to the heat dial, you pretty much burned off your skin. Yes, on the way to the art department you had dropped one of the paintings you've been working on for over a month, getting mud all over the bottom half of the artwork.

But, nevertheless, it could've been a lot worse.

As you gathered the used paintbrushes next to your easel, you thought about who could be your partner for this collaborative project with the dance majors. Professor Yun just spent about ten minutes informing you and your peers that the art majors were to pair up with a dance major to create an artwork. The specifics—such as whether it'll be a painting or collage or other media—were completely up to the students.

You holstered your bag on your shoulder, finally leaving the art studio to see who you were paired with. Maybe it'll be Suncha, possibly the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen. You could definitely see yourself working with her. She moved with grace and would probably be the best subject you could ever wish for. Maybe Daehyun—you'd always found his face and body aesthetically pleasing.

The crowd in front of the bullet slowly dissipated and people found their partners in the crowd, already making conversation and talking about the project. With a slight sense of dread but a pinch of anticipation, you stepped up to the list and scanned it, quickly finding your name next to-

Oh you've got to be kidding me.

Nevermind, this was definitely one of the worst days you'd ever experienced. Because right next to your name, stood a name associated with one of the eight most sought-after men on your campus.

Jung Wooyoung.

They'd never done anything to you personally, but you just weren't a fan of the way they'd go from girl to girl without being ashamed or being called out. Granted, you weren't sure if all eight of them behaved like that (though this particular Jung Wooyoung did), you still disliked them (except for one of them, but you'd never admit that). Maybe it was how they were practically handed everything they needed at any given moment on a silver tray. Or how ridiculously good looking they were. Either way, something about them just felt... off.

An arm being slung over your shoulder broke you out of your thoughts of just ending your life right then and there. Without even looking at the person, you already had a suspicion of who it could be.

"Hey there, partner," He stepped in front of you, hand lingering on your shoulder for a second longer than you'd like. A mischievous smile graced his features, "I don't think I've ever talked to you. What's your name, pretty?"

"It's on the paper right behind you." You deadpanned, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

For a second, Wooyoung's eyes hardened before that playful glint returned. "I know, but I'd like to hear you say it. After all, I don't want to be pronouncing it wrong."

With a sigh, you gave him your name and he repeated it, testing the sound of it on his tongue. Seemingly satisfied, he returned to your side with a hum and once again slung his arm over your shoulders, steering you toward the exit of the arts department and practically dragging you with him.

Along the way, you passed multiple clusters of girls and boys, some of them watching Wooyoung with admiration and lust in their eyes while others simply glared at you out of jealousy. Feeling their stares, your head turned to the ground and you screwed your eyes shut, wishing it was Daehyun dragging you. Not this painfully pretty, charming man that you couldn't stand.

"So," Wooyoung started—though he never really stopped talking, "I was thinking, if you don't have any courses or stuff for the rest of the day, you can come over to my place and we can start working on whatever it is we have to do."

"I told my roommate I'd be back early to clean our apartment."

"Oh, then I can come with you, help you and then you can come to my place."

"Why not just do it at my place?"

"That's fine, too. Maybe you can show me to your bedroom?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you had to hold back the urge to smack him right then and there.

"Over my dead body."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not really into necrophilia."

It was then that you noticed you were walking towards the campus' parking lot. You stopped in your tracks and waited for Wooyoung to turn.

"Ok, first of all, what the fuck. But I guess I'm glad that's not your thing. Second, what are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

He blinked. Once, twice. "I'm taking you to my car...?"

"Why?"

"To take you to my place so we can work?" He looked behind him and then back to you, his dark hair bouncing around and revealing the bleached layers underneath.

"But I have stuff to do." You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to your right leg as you looked up at him. He wasn't that much taller, but because of his proximity, it was hard to look him in the eyes without craning your neck just a bit.

A chuckle (though it sounded more like a giggle) escaped him. "The dishes and vacuum can wait. I'm only available for the next two hours, after that you're free to do whatever you want."

You took a second to mull things over before dropping your head and groaning. "Fine but–"

"Great!" Wooyoung grabbed your hand and resumed pulling you across the parking lot. "Let's get going, maybe the food Seonghwa-hyung made will still be warm when we get there and–"

"Wait!" You tugged on the hand that held yours harshly, making him stop to look back at you with a raised brow. "But... no funny business. Please."

He let out another high pitched laugh. "Oh, YN, my dearest darling YN, I don't plan on doing anything like that with you. Today, at least. Though if you'd like-"

"No!" You extended a hand to stop him from finishing that sentence, cheeks blushing dark crimson. "Please just- just lead the way."

That specific mischievous grin returned to his face as he whipped around and practically skipped to his black Mercedes with tinted windows. You didn't stop to appreciate the car, getting into the passengers seat and strapping the seatbelt on.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter!! any guess as to who the ateez member is that YN likes more than the others? hint: it's not wooyoung. also, i'm basing each of the mebers' looks off of different eras. in case you couldn't tell, we will be dealing with oreo wooyoung here.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @legohwas @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @r1kitti @sarahleighflora @kyukyustar

　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

#★ NEVER SAY NEVER — seonghwaddict #ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #vampire au #college au #fluff #eventual smut

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delicatebarness · 9 months ago

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i cant read your mind | chapter eight

Summary: Flashback to Wakanda.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Major The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Spoilers. Smut. Fluffy Smut. A hint of Angst at the end. Sergeant kink.

Word Count: 927

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A/N: Onto episode 4 now, most likely gonna be 3 parts for this one. I've had the idea of this chapter in my head forever and was so excited to finally write it. But, I am also excited to go back to annoyed Bucky next chapter when John's back in the picture.

Wakanda. Six Years Ago.

The Wakandan sun had set hours ago, around the same time Bucky left to meet with Ayo for another session. You stood by the window of his hut, staring out into the evening waiting for his return. Ayo had contacted you when they had finished for the night, explaining to you that he was free. Finally free from the brainwashing that had haunted him for so long. You immediately left the room that the Wakandans had prepared for you and made your way to Bucky’s hut.

As Bucky approached the hut, he saw you waiting for him. He entered without a word, closing the space between you in a few quick strides. He cupped your face, kissing you deeply, passionately. It was filled with a mix of relief, gratitude, a raw desire.

You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Your bodies pressed together as Bucky's hand dropped from your face, roaming your back.

Bucky broke the kiss for less than a second, his lips finding your body again as he trailed down your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, as your fingers tangled in his hair. A soft moan escaped your lips as he placed a soft kiss against a sensitive spot below your ear. His hand found its way to the gem of your shift, lifting it effortlessly over your head and tossing it aside before finding your lips with his again.

Undressing each other in haste, your clothes were discarded carelessly onto the hut floor. His eyes filled with hunger as his gaze met yours for a moment, taking in the image of you standing bare before him.

His voice was husky as he murmured, “You’re amazing, Baby Girl,”

You smiled, sliding your hand up and down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles and the scars on his shoulder. “And, you’re finally free, Sergeant,” you replied, your voice breathless with anticipation.

Without another word, he lifted you and carried you to the makeshift bed. Laying you down, his eyes danced over your body, taking in every inch of you. His lips captured yours in a hungry kiss and he positioned himself above you. You arched into his touch as his hand explored your body, your nails digging into him.

Your kisses grew more desperate as his fingers found their way to your inner thigh, teasing his way up to your entrance with gentle strokes. The stokes continued as he reached it. You moaned into his mouth, hips moving in rhythm with his touch.

Unable to wait any longer, he positioned himself where his fingers previously were, his gaze stayed locked with yours. And, with a single thrust, he buried himself deep inside you. You gasped at the sensation.

Once he began to move, his hips rocked against yours in a slow steady rhythm. Your back arched off the bed as the pleasure consumed you. His name fell from your lips, driving him to push harder.

Each movement was deliberate, every touch ignited the desire and longing for one another that neither of your minds let you admit. His thrusts were measured, driving deeper into your core. A chorus of moans and sighs from both your lips filled the hut.

The sensation of him filling you caused you to wrap your legs around his waist as a wave of pleasure coursed through you.

The tension within you grew, the pleasure building, it was almost unbearable. You were teetering on the edge, Bucky’s movement grew more urgent as your mumbled begs strained from your voice. “Please, Sergeant, please.”

“Please what, baby?” his voice whispered against your ear, his lips finding your neck again.

“Please can I finish, Sergeant?” you pleaded, your voice thick with need and desperation.

You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your skin, and he continued with his steady, hard thrusts. Each one pushed you closer and closer. He knew exactly what you needed, he could feel the tension within you reaching its breaking point.

“Let go for me,” he murmured as his grip on your hips tightened. “Let me feel you come apart, baby.”

His permission pushed you over the edge, and with a ragged cry, you shattered beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure rushed through you as he continued his rhythm.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth bored into your skin as his high followed closely behind yours. His body began to tremble with the aftershock of his climax.

Bucky collapsed beside you, and then for a long while, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex and the only sound was your ragged breaths.

A realization washed over you like a wave crashing. For the first time, he had been gentle and tender. It was filled with emotion and connection. Something that was a stark contrast to the aggressive, rough encounters that would normally leave your body looking like you just came back from an intense mission.

The weight became too much to bear, you began to gather your clothes from the floor. The simple act of dressing provided you with a sense of normalcy.

You felt his intense gaze watching you silently.

“I… I think I should go,” you murmured, unable to turn to face him.

Without a word from him, you slipped out of the hut, leaving behind the warmth and intimacy. Instead, enveloping yourself with cool night air as tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

---

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kc-writes-sometimes · 5 months ago

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Crown and Kin | Chapter Eight

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Chapter Eight: Revelations

(Daemon’s POV)

Word Count: 3,513

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Summary: Daemon navigates the growing complexities of fatherhood and his place in the ever-changing Red Keep. The delicate balance between duty and personal desire becomes clear as old alliances and hidden truths come to light. Daella, now embraced as a Targaryen, faces a new chapter in her life, while Daemon finds himself torn between his past and the responsibilities that come with his newfound role.

Themes & Warnings: 18+, Character Death, Rape/Non Con, Future Smut, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Incest, Angst, Dad Daemon Targaryen, Bastards and Brothels, Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Team Black Centric, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance

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Daemon Targaryen

“Is it not bedtime for you too?" Daella asked, her head tilted in confusion as she gazed up at Daemon, her violet eyes reflecting the dim light of the chamber.

Daemon smiled faintly, catching the quizzical look on her young face. There was something about the innocence of a child’s question that had the power to pierce through the world’s weight. “Not for me,” he replied, his voice firm yet laced with the warmth that had grown in him since Daella entered his life. “I have business outside the Keep. You’ll be fine, little one. A guard will be stationed right outside the door if you need anything. Now, get some rest.”

She continued to stare up at him with wide eyes, still unsure, as if sensing there was more to his late-night departure. Daemon hesitated for a brief moment, feeling the tug of something unfamiliar: the urge to stay. It gnawed at him, but duty—an old, familiar companion—called louder.

He leaned over and tucked a strand of dark silver hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her warm skin. She didn’t flinch away, her trust in him already unspoken and complete. He stood back up, his towering figure momentarily casting a shadow over the oversized bed before he turned toward the door. The heavy wooden frame creaked as he closed it, but his hand lingered on the handle for a moment longer than necessary. His mind was awash in thoughts of her—no longer just a bastard girl from Flea Bottom, but his daughter. His blood.

They had been sharing his childhood chambers ever since Daella’s arrival at the Red Keep. It had been his idea to keep her close—he told himself it was simply for convenience, but the truth ran deeper. He found comfort in her presence, watching over her as she slept, the rise and fall of her little form under thick blankets a reminder of how fragile and important she had become to him. It was an unfamiliar feeling, this quiet protectiveness, but it had rooted itself firmly in him.

Fatherhood had a way of creeping up on even the most untamed of men. Daemon, known for his reckless abandon and disregard for attachments, now found himself caring for this little girl more than he had ever anticipated. She had become the single tether in a life that had long been untethered.

These chambers had always been his refuge from the swirling politics of the Red Keep, a place he had once found solace. Now, they served as a barrier from the growing Hightower influence. Every day, the Keep felt less like the seat of Targaryen power and more like a fortress of the Faith. Alicent’s grip on Viserys—and the Keep itself—was tightening, and despite Otto’s removal, her presence had only grown stronger. The Faith of the Seven had crept into every corner, displacing the symbols of Old Valyria. The walls, once adorned with dragons, were slowly being overtaken by depictions of the Seven’s icons. It was as if the very soul of the Red Keep was being eroded.

Daemon clenched his fists as he made his way through the corridors. His boots struck the cold stone floor with sharp, measured steps, each echo a reminder of the battle that was being fought within the Keep’s walls—a battle without swords or blood, but one that was just as dangerous. The few servants still awake lowered their heads as he passed, avoiding eye contact with the Rogue Prince, their wariness a reflection of his simmering temper.

Once outside, the cool night air hit his face, offering a momentary reprieve from the tension knotted in his chest. He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp breeze fill his lungs. For a moment, he stood still, gazing up at the moon as it hung high over King’s Landing, casting long shadows across the sleeping city. The streets below, though quieter at this hour, still thrummed with life—merchants peddling their last wares of the day, shadowy figures slinking through alleys, the distant clang of the harbour.

He tightened his cloak around him as he moved through the streets, his silver hair hidden beneath the black hood. To most, he was just another shadow slipping through the night, but to those who recognized him, his presence was unmistakable. His reputation preceded him—the Rogue Prince, the Lord of Flea Bottom. Names earned through years of rebellion, of pushing against the chains of authority that tried to bind him.

But there was something different about him now. His steps were no less purposeful, but the fire that had always driven him was tempered by something new. He was no longer just a man acting on his own whims; he had a daughter, a child who was both his responsibility and his legacy.

Daella.

Her name repeated itself in his mind, a steady rhythm that beat in time with his footsteps. The thought of her stirred emotions he had long buried. Fatherhood was not something he had ever sought out. He had lived his life without attachments, without ties to anyone or anything. But now, everything had shifted. She was his, and that simple fact had rearranged the very fabric of his life.

The familiar streets of Silk soon came into view, the tension in his body winding tighter as he neared his destination. He had not felt this particular brand of tension in some time. Mysaria awaited him—the White Worm. She had been many things to him over the years: lover, confidant, spy. Her network of whispers had proven invaluable more times than he cared to count, but lately, something had changed. There was a distance between them now, a suspicion that had begun to fester ever since Daella’s presence had been made known to him. Had Mysaria known? Had she kept the secret from him all these years?

Daemon’s thoughts burned with the question as he neared her compound. The White Worm had always known more than she revealed, her words laced with riddles and half-truths. But now, with Daella in his life, the stakes were higher. If Mysaria had known about Daella—had hidden it from him—there would be a reckoning.

As he approached the dimly lit entrance to her chambers, the guards at the door said nothing as he passed, their silence expected. They had seen him come and go too many times to question his presence.

Inside, the familiar scent of incense and spice greeted him, a mixture that clung to the air, heavy and intoxicating. Mysaria’s chambers were draped in silk, the flickering light of candles casting long shadows across the room. She was there, waiting for him, draped in her customary white, her pale face framed by the soft glow of the candles.

"Daemon," she purred, her Lysene accent curling seductively around his name. She reclined on a low couch, her eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "You’ve come late tonight. What is it you seek from me?"

Daemon’s gaze was sharp, his patience worn thin. "You know why I’m here."

Her smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something—uncertainty, perhaps—in her eyes. "There are many things I know, Prince. You’ll need to be more specific."

Daemon moved faster than she anticipated, his hand shooting out to grip her throat, pulling her close with a force that left no room for games. "Don’t play games with me, Mysaria," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Did you know about Daella? Did you know I had a daughter?"

The tension in the room thickened, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. Mysaria didn’t flinch, her dark eyes holding his without fear, though his grip tightened around her throat. "I knew there was a girl," she rasped, her voice just above a whisper. "But I did not know she was yours. Not at first."

Daemon’s eyes narrowed, his fingers pressing harder against her neck. "You’re lying."

"I’m not," she whispered, her voice hoarse but steady. "I didn’t know her parentage until recently."

With a sharp shove, Daemon released her, sending her sprawling back onto the cushions. He paced the room, his mind racing with the implications of her words. How many people had known the truth before him? How had it been hidden for so long?

Mysaria rubbed her throat, her eyes flickering with irritation, though her voice remained calm. "Daella was hidden well. Elyse kept her secret, and I only pieced it together when she was dead."

"Elyse," Daemon muttered, the name cutting through the air like a blade. "What did you know about her?"

Mysaria’s expression flickered, a brief moment of hesitation crossing her face before it vanished. "Elyse… was more than she appeared," she said slowly, her words carefully measured. "‘Elyse’ wasn’t even her real name. That was just the name she adopted when she came to King’s Landing."

Daemon’s brow furrowed, confusion tightening his features. "Then who was she?"

Mysaria sighed, leaning back into the cushions with a faraway look in her eyes. "I don’t know. She was secretive about her past. Our bond wasn’t built on trust, Daemon—it was born out of survival." Her fingers smoothed the silk of her dress absently before she turned her gaze back to him. "Did she ever tell you where she was from?"

"She said she was born in Dorne," Daemon answered, his voice tight, controlled. "A bastard. That’s all she told me."

A faint, knowing smile touched Mysaria’s lips, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken. "Dorne? No, but close. She was born in Volantis. And she wasn’t just any Volantene bastard, Daemon."

Daemon’s hand instinctively moved to the hilt of Dark Sister, his pulse quickening. "What are you implying?"

Mysaria’s tone softened, her voice more thoughtful now. "Did you never wonder why her hair and eyes were so… familiar? Did her manner never strike you as peculiar? The way she always had silver coins for the City Watch?" Her eyes watched him closely, as if trying to read his every reaction. "Both you and your brother saw something in her."

Daemon’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. Elyse had always been a mystery, a puzzle he never bothered to solve. She had been beautiful, and he had enjoyed their time together, but she hadn’t mattered to him beyond that. Until now. Now, she was the mother of his child—his legacy.

"What are you saying?" he demanded, his voice low, though the question was more for himself than Mysaria.

"She was more than a simple woman from Volantis," Mysaria continued, her gaze never leaving his. "I don’t know the full story, but there were whispers that she had connections to families of influence"

"Enough, Mysaria!" Daemon barked, his voice filled with frustration as he resumed pacing, his boots echoing against the stone floor. The flickering candlelight cast jagged shadows on the walls, mirroring the chaos in his mind. "I don’t have time for your riddles. Speak plainly!"

Mysaria’s eyes followed him, her expression calm but unyielding. "Elyse wasn’t a common whore, Daemon," she said, her voice steady as she leaned back, watching his every move. "There were whispers before she started dying her hair—whispers that she was of Valyrian blood."

Daemon froze, the weight of her words settling over him like a heavy cloak. How had he not seen it? The dark silver hair, the striking purple eyes—traits Daella now bore. He should have known. Perhaps, on some level, he did. Perhaps he just didn’t care. After all, one silver-haired whore was as good as another in King’s Landing.

His fists clenched at his sides, his anger surging through him like wildfire. "Why didn’t she tell me any of this?" he muttered, more to himself than to Mysaria. "Why keep Daella from me?"

Mysaria tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes softening just a touch. "I can’t answer that for certain, but perhaps she feared what it would mean for Daella—for you. Perhaps Elyse thought it best to keep Daella hidden, to raise her as a child should be raised, away from the prying eyes of the court. She didn’t want Daella used as a pawn."

Daemon let out a bitter laugh, though the sound was devoid of humour. "And look where that got her. Dead. And Daella? A scared, lonely child living in the squalor of a brothel, so terrified that when the maid washed the dye out of her hair she nearly ripped her own hair out." His voice grew harsher, the bitterness seeping into every word. "You could have told me this sooner. You could have done something! You could have let me help her."

Mysaria’s eyes hardened at his accusation. "And what would you have done, Daemon? Elyse feared what your involvement would bring. She didn’t want Daella to live in the shadow of your name. She didn’t want her past or yours to devour the child."

Daemon spun toward her, his eyes blazing with anger. "I could’ve saved her!" His voice broke, just for a moment. "I could’ve kept Elyse alive."

Mysaria held his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the weight of the secrets she had kept. "Would it have changed anything, Daemon?" she asked quietly, her tone almost regretful. "Elyse made her choices."

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his fury simmering beneath the surface. Elyse’s secrets—the ones Mysaria had revealed and the ones that had died with her—no longer mattered. What mattered now was Daella. His daughter.

"Daella is my daughter," Daemon muttered fiercely, his voice low but resolute. "Whatever blood runs through her veins doesn’t change that."

Mysaria’s expression softened once more, her familiar tone slipping back into place. "Be careful, Daemon. The past has a way of catching up to all of us."

Daemon stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "If you’ve kept anything else from me, anything at all, you won’t live long enough to regret it."

Mysaria met his gaze, the tension between them taut as a drawn bowstring. "I’ve told you what I know," she said evenly, her tone calm yet unyielding.

For a long moment, Daemon’s eyes lingered on hers, the weight of unspoken threats thick in the air. But he said nothing more. With one final, cold glance, he turned and stormed out of her chambers, the door slamming shut behind him. As he passed through the familiar streets, Mysaria’s compound fading into the distance, Daemon felt the weight of his life shifting. He had been the Rogue Prince for so long—untethered, wild, a force unto himself. But now, he was something more.

He was a father. A protector. A force to be reckoned with, not just for himself but for Daella. His daughter. His future.

By the time Daemon reached the Red Keep, the sun had already begun its slow rise over the city. The early morning light cast long shadows across the courtyard, and servants bustled about, preparing for the day. But Daemon moved through them with a newfound sense of purpose. Nothing—not the past, not the whispers, not even the enemies lurking in the shadows—would take Daella from him.

He could picture her now, awake and preparing for her first lesson. He had arranged for the Maester to begin teaching her High Valyrian, as every true Targaryen should learn. Soon, she would know how to read, how to write, how to stitch and play music. She would learn the history of their house, the names of the great lords, and the powers they wielded. And one day, when the time came, he would teach her to ride a dragon and hold a sword, just as he did.

As Daemon walked through the gardens, heading toward his chambers, he spotted Rhaenyra in her usual spot beneath the weirwood tree. She sat with a heavy tome in her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration.

His footsteps were almost silent as he approached, though Rhaenyra, sharp as ever, glanced up from her book. Her violet eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze sharp as it landed on him.

"Back so soon, uncle?" Rhaenyra’s voice cut through the quiet of the Godswood, her tone laced with sarcasm, though beneath it was a softer edge, almost teasing.

Daemon smirked, but didn’t respond immediately. His eyes lingered on her, taking in the way the morning light caught in her hair, making it gleam like molten silver. Even in the simplicity of the Godswood, she looked regal, carrying herself with a natural majesty that both captivated and irritated him. She reminded him too much of himself.

"I had business to attend to," he finally replied, his voice neutral, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. A subtle tension simmered beneath his words, one she hadn’t heard before. "Not that it’s any concern of yours."

Rhaenyra closed the book resting on her lap, setting it aside gently as she met his gaze, her eyes sharp, searching. She could read him too well, sensing the storm beneath his calm exterior. "And what business was so pressing that it kept you out all night?" Her voice was light, but her eyes—hard, inquisitive—demanded answers.

Daemon’s lips curled into a sly grin. "You know me, Rhaenyra. I don’t answer to anyone."

"Not even my father?" she shot back, her tone sharpening like a blade. "Or is it just me you feel the need to play games with?"

The tension between them, simmering for so long, flared like fire meeting oil. Daemon’s smirk faded, his expression darkening as he stepped closer, looming over her. She remained seated under the weirwood, regal and unmoved, but his presence was undeniable.

"Viserys has always been weak," Daemon said, his voice low, heated. "And you—"

"What about me?" Rhaenyra interrupted, rising to her feet, her book forgotten as she faced him. "Do you think me weak, uncle?"

For a moment, the Godswood fell silent, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Daemon’s eyes flashed with something unspoken—longing, regret, or perhaps both. He had always been drawn to her, admiring her fire, her defiance. Yet the distance between them had grown wider, especially since that night in the city.

"You’re far from weak," Daemon said at last, his voice softer now, though the roughness remained. "But you’re playing a dangerous game, Rhaenyra. One you’re not ready for."

Rhaenyra scoffed, her eyes blazing with defiance. "And you think you know everything, don't you? You think you can decide what I'm ready for?" She stepped closer, her chin tilted upward, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—hurt, frustration. "Do you think I didn’t know what I was doing that night?"

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his gaze locking with hers. "You were a girl playing at being a woman, Rhaenyra. You didn’t understand what you were stepping into."

Rhaenyra’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I understood more than you give me credit for," she shot back, her voice trembling slightly, though she stood firm. "You didn’t force me to do anything. I wanted to see your world. I wanted to be free."

"Free?" Daemon echoed, his voice a low growl, almost a sneer. "You’ll never be free, Rhaenyra. Not as long as you’re tied to the Iron Throne."

"And neither will you," she snapped, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "You may pretend you don't care—that you're some rogue prince who doesn’t need the throne—but I see you, Daemon. You're just as trapped as the rest of us."

Daemon’s eyes flickered with something dark, something dangerous, as he stepped closer. His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Perhaps," he admitted, "but I know how to bend the rules when it suits me."

Rhaenyra held her ground, her breath quickening as he loomed over her. She could feel the heat of his body, the scent of smoke and leather clinging to him. For a brief, reckless moment, Rhaenyra reached out, brushing her fingers against his chest, her touch light, almost daring. Daemon’s hand shot up, catching her wrist in a firm yet controlled grip. His eyes bore into hers, a smirk tugging at his lips once again.

"You shouldn’t provoke me, niece," he whispered, his voice rough, filled with a challenge that sent a shiver down her spine.

Rhaenyra’s lips parted, her defiance wavering as the fire between them burned hotter. "And what will you do if I do?" she asked, her voice barely a breath.

Daemon’s grip on her wrist tightened, just enough to remind her of his strength. He leaned in ever so slightly, their faces mere inches apart. His breath was warm against her skin, his presence overwhelming, and the tension between them reached its breaking point.

"Father?"

The voice was small, hesitant, cutting through the charged moment like a splash of cold water. Daemon turned sharply, releasing Rhaenyra’s wrist as he looked toward the source.

Daella stood a few feet away, her violet eyes wide with confusion as they flicked between Daemon and Rhaenyra. Her dark silver hair cascaded around her shoulders, and she seemed so small, so innocent, standing there in the soft light of the Godswood.

↞ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ↠

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crossfandomskylines · 4 months ago

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In the Space Between Us: Chapter 3

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Gabby prepares for a cozy evening at Glen’s home. Despite a delayed start, the chemistry between them sparks as they dive into an evening of home-cooked meals and laughter. As they bond over shared stories and Glen's impressive cooking skills, the connection deepens, culminating in a sweet dance in the kitchen that leads to their first kiss. Later while wrapped in a blanket on the couch they watch a movie, blissfully unaware of the outside world.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: None.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

Tags: @djs8891

Gabby was bustling around her apartment, making the final touches to her outfit. She had picked out a soft, white tank top and denim shorts, perfect for a cozy evening at Glen's place. Just as she finished applying her favorite lip gloss, her phone lit up on the countertop, breaking the calm of the moment.

With a quick glance, she saw Glen's name flashing across the screen. Excitement bubbled up inside her as she swiped to answer, “Hey, Glen!”

“Hey, Gabby,” he replied, his voice slightly tinged with regret. “My last meeting ran longer than I thought it would and now I’m running late. I won’t be home as soon as I thought I would. Is there any chance we could push our plans back by an hour or two?”

A small frown flickered across Gabby’s face, but she quickly masked it with understanding. “Of course! I can be there around eight instead. Just let me know when you’re home.”

“Thanks for being flexible,” Glen said, relief evident in his tone. “I really appreciate it. I’ll see you soon!”

As she hung up, Gabby couldn’t help but notice how Glen’s career sometimes intervened in their plans. She thought back to their coffee date, where he’d had to cut their time short due to a meeting. And now tonight with his meeting running late. It was a reminder that his lifestyle came with its own set of challenges, but she admired his dedication to his work. She wasn’t going to let something like an hour or two ruin her excitement. He still wanted to spend time with her, and that was what mattered.

Plus, she appreciated the way he had communicated openly with her both times about what was going on, which made her feel valued.

With a determined smile, Gabby decided to make the most of the extra time. She tidied up her apartment, made sure Willow’s food and water were topped up, and even threw in a few minutes of reviewing her notes for the classes she was taking.

Flexibility had always been a part of her nature, and she found that it was a necessary trait in the ever-shifting world of Hollywood, especially if she wanted to keep things easy and light with Glen.

As the clock ticked closer to eight, Gabby took one last glance in the mirror, adjusting her hair before heading out the door, ready to embrace whatever the evening had in store.

Arriving at his place, she parked and took a deep breath, readying herself for the evening. She walked up to his door, her anticipation building with each step. When she knocked, she felt a giddy thrill shoot through her, and before she could second-guess herself, the door swung open.

“Hey!” Glen greeted her with a warm smile, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. He pulled her into a gentle hug that felt reassuring and familiar. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“Of course! I brought your shirt,” she said, holding it up as she stepped inside.

The cozy warmth of his home enveloped her, filled with the subtle scent of something delicious simmering in the background.

“Thanks.” He took the shirt from her, and as he turned to take it to his room, Gabby’s attention was drawn to a fluffy ball of fur bounding excitedly toward her.

“This is Brisket!” Glen said, smiling over his shoulder. The dog—a scruffy mix—skidded to a halt in front of Gabby, tail wagging furiously as he sniffed at her feet.

“Hey there, buddy!” Gabby knelt down, extending her hand for Brisket to sniff. He immediately leaned into her touch, nuzzling against her fingers. She laughed, her heart warming as Brisket licked her palm enthusiastically.

Glen watched with a soft smile, the sight of his dog instantly taking a liking to Gabby bringing him joy.

“Looks like Brisket approves of you,” he teased, bending down to scratch behind Brisket’s ears.

“He’s adorable!” Gabby replied, giving Brisket a good scratch along his back.

Gabby followed Glen into the kitchen, and the moment she stepped inside, she was hit with a delightful aroma that made her stomach rumble. The rich scent of tomatoes and spices danced in the air, making her instantly hungry. Her gaze fell on a pot bubbling on the stove, steam swirling upwards as it simmered. Curiosity piqued, she leaned closer to the counter, where she noticed a mound of dough waiting to be transformed.

“What are you making?” she asked, her eyes bright with interest.

“Pasta,” Glen replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m working on a homemade red sauce to go with it.” He moved back to the counter, rolling the dough between his fingers.

“Wait, you’re really making pasta from scratch?” Gabby asked, incredulous. She had not been expecting homemade pasta tonight.

“Absolutely! It’s one of my favorite things to do,” he said, nodding with enthusiasm. “Have you ever tried making it yourself?”

She shook her head, a smile spreading across her face. “No, I haven’t. I usually just boil the store-bought stuff.”

“Come here; I’ll show you how it’s done.” He motioned for her to join him, and Gabby stepped closer, excitement bubbling inside her.

As they stood side by side, he demonstrated how to knead the dough properly, his hands deftly working it until it was smooth. Gabby watched closely, trying to follow his lead. The close proximity was both comforting and thrilling, the warmth radiating from him as they shared the task.

“Now, grab the rolling pin,” Glen instructed, positioning himself behind her. His arms brushed against hers as he guided her hands, showing her how to apply just the right amount of pressure to flatten the dough. Gabby’s heart raced, but she couldn’t help grinning at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Like this?” she asked, catching onto his rhythm.

“Exactly,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re a natural.”

With his hands guiding hers, they worked together to get the pasta thinner, before using an attachment for his KitchenAid mixer to create perfectly shaped noodles. The kitchen filled with laughter and playful banter as Glen teased her about her novice skills while she marveled at his culinary finesse.

“I have to admit, I’m impressed,” she said, glancing up at him. “I didn’t expect you to be this good at cooking.”

He chuckled, a hint of bashfulness creeping into his expression. “I had to learn sometime. Living on takeout got old pretty fast.”

As they continued to shape the pasta, Gabby felt a genuine connection forming between them, solidified by laughter and the delightful shared experience of cooking.

Once the pasta was boiling away, Glen stirred the sauce with a wooden spoon, the vibrant red color reflecting the warm glow of the kitchen lights. He glanced over at Gabby, who was still admiring the perfect strands of pasta they had created together.

“Do you want something to drink? Water? Wine? Something else?” he asked, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“I’d love some wine,” she replied, feeling a wave of relaxation wash over her.

“Red or white?” he asked, his fingers already reaching for a bottle perched on the counter.

“Red,” she said, smiling as he grabbed a corkscrew and popped the bottle open with a satisfying thunk.

He poured some of the wine into two glasses, the rich liquid swirling as he filled them. “This is a favorite of mine,” he said, handing her one of the glasses. “Hope you like it.”

“Let’s find out,” Gabby replied with a playful smile as their glasses clinked together in a cheerful toast. “To good food and new friends!”

“Cheers!” Glen echoed, taking a sip. The deep flavors of the wine danced on her palate, and she savored it, glancing over at Glen, who looked pleased.

“This is nice,” she said, feeling the warmth of the wine and the moment enveloping her.

“Yeah, it is. I’m glad you’re here,” he replied, leaning against the counter with a relaxed smile.

As the pasta finished cooking, Glen drained it before moving to plate their dinner. He carefully twisted the strands of noodles onto two plates, the steam rising as he topped each one with the rich, homemade red sauce.

“How do you like your sauce?” he asked, glancing up at her with a playful grin.

Gabby thought for a moment, then replied, “Light sauce, definitely. I don’t want to drown the pasta.”

“Agreed,” he said, nodding as he drizzled just the right amount over her noodles.

Next, he reached for a block of parmesan cheese. “How about some cheese?” he asked, holding it up.

“Yes, please!” she replied enthusiastically.

“Okay, just tell me when,” he said, starting to grate cheese onto her plate. Gabby watched as the snowy flakes tumbled onto her pasta, and she finally said, “Okay, that’s good!”

As he set the grater down, she noticed something odd. “Hey, wait. You didn’t put any cheese on your plate,” she said, tilting her head.

Glen shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I don’t eat cheese.”

Gabby raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Wait, like at all?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his tone light. “I was never a big fan of dairy as a kid. Just never liked the texture of most cheeses. Unless it’s a small amount mixed into something, I usually avoid it.”

“Wow, I can’t believe that!” she said, shaking her head in disbelief, but a smile lingered on her lips. “You must miss out on a lot of pizza toppings.”

He chuckled, “I still eat pizza as long as it’s not straight cheese. I’m not that crazy.”

With dinner plated, they moved to the dining table, and as they sat down, the savory aroma of the meal enveloped them. Gabby took her first bite and her eyes lit up. “Oh wow, this is amazing! You really nailed the flavor,” she exclaimed, genuinely impressed.

Glen beamed at her praise. “Thanks! I’m glad you like it,” he said, taking a bite of his own.

She leaned back in her chair, laughing lightly. “Honestly, my pasta alla vodka with store-bought pasta can’t compete with this.”

“I’d still love to try it sometime,” he said with a wink, enjoying the banter. The conversation flowed easily as they savored their meal, laughter mingling with the clinking of forks against plates, making the evening feel warm and inviting.

After they finished eating, Gabby stood up, gathering hers and Glen’s plates. “I’ll take these into the kitchen,” she said, heading toward the sink.

Glen quickly rose to his feet, a hint of protest in his voice. “You really don’t have to do that. You’re my guest, remember?”

Gabby smiled at him over her shoulder as she placed her plate in the sink. “But the least I can do is help clean up. It’s only fair.”

He watched her for a moment, appreciating her willingness to pitch in. With a resigned sigh, he followed her into the kitchen. “Okay, okay. If you insist,” he said, moving to help her with the clean up.

As they began to wash the dishes, the warm, cozy atmosphere lingered in the air. Glen rinsed his plate while Gabby filled the dishwasher, handing him the dishes as they went along. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so willing to do dishes after a meal,” he said, chuckling.

Gabby shot him a playful look. “Well, I guess I’m just an overachiever,” she replied, laughter sparkling in her eyes. “Besides, I can’t just leave you with all the mess!”

They continued to work side by side, the lighthearted banter flowing easily between them. Glen started wiping down the counters, stealing glances at her as she focused on loading the dishwasher. The way she effortlessly moved around his kitchen made him appreciate her presence even more.

“So, do you always cook for your guests?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Or am I just special?”

“Let’s just say I usually don’t do this much,” he admitted, grinning. “But I’d definitely do it again for you.”

Gabby smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks as they finished loading the last of the dishes. “I’ll hold you to that,” she said lightly, feeling the chemistry between them grow as they shared a comfortable moment of laughter and connection.

As they finished tidying up the kitchen, a comfortable silence settled around them, broken only by the faint hum of the dishwasher. Glen glanced over at Gabby, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. Without a word, he reached for a small remote sitting on the counter and pressed a button. Soft music filtered through the speakers, filling the room with a gentle melody that gave the kitchen a warm, intimate atmosphere.

Gabby’s eyebrows lifted, and she gave him a curious look. "What are you up to?" she asked with a laugh.

Glen set the remote down and turned to Gabby, a playful glint in his eyes as he reached out to take her hand. “Come here,” he said, gently trying to pull her toward him.

She looked at his outstretched hand, then back up at him, feeling a flutter of nerves. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she admitted, shifting her weight. “I’m not exactly… a dancer.”

Glen's smile only grew, his gaze soft and encouraging. "Trust me," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "I’ll lead."

Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his, letting him gently pull her toward him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand resting lightly on her back, and began to guide her in a slow, easy rhythm that matched the song. At first, she focused on not stepping on his feet, feeling a little self-conscious. But his gentle hold and the way he was watching her — with a quiet warmth and a hint of mischief — made her gradually relax.

“See? You’re doing great,” he murmured, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

She smiled, meeting his gaze. "I guess you’re not a terrible teacher.”

They swayed together, her movements becoming more natural as she grew comfortable in his embrace. When he felt her easing into the rhythm, he lifted their joined hands and spun her slowly. She laughed in surprise, her eyes sparkling as she let herself get caught up in the moment. When she came back around, he pulled her in closer, his arm steadying her as they continued to move together in time to the music.

With a small grin, he added a little dip at the end, and she let out a delighted, breathless laugh. As he lifted her back up, their eyes met, and the energy between them shifted, becoming something softer and deeper.

He still held her close, their faces only inches apart. His gaze dropped to her lips before returning to her eyes, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve really been wanting to kiss you,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Gabby’s smile softened, her heart racing. She let her hand slide up to his shoulder, then, closing the gap, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, feeling the warmth and tenderness in his kiss. He wrapped his arms around her a little tighter, drawing her even closer, and time seemed to slow as they shared that first kiss, deep and lingering, each moment stretching as they savored it.

It felt electric—his lips were soft, yet firm, and she melted against him as he cradled her face with one hand, the other still resting on her waist. The taste of the red wine lingered between them, enhancing the sweetness of the moment.

Her heart soared as she leaned into him, feeling the strength of his body and the warmth of his embrace. Glen’s fingers tangled in her hair, his touch gentle yet possessive, pulling her closer.

Gabby’s mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts—this was happening, it felt so right, and she couldn’t help but smile against his lips. She had always dreamed of moments like this, and here she was, lost in the magic of their connection.

As Glen pulled away, their breaths mingled in the small space between them, the moment hanging heavy with unspoken feelings. Gabby’s heart raced, her cheeks flushed as they locked eyes, a smile spreading across her lips that mirrored Glen’s. Glen rested his forehead against hers for a beat, his hand trailing down her arm as he took her in.

“Wow,” he murmured, still in awe of what had just transpired. Just as she was about to respond, he leaned in again, catching her off guard with a second kiss, this one deeper. It sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach, igniting a spark that made her crave more.

When they finally broke apart, Gabby’s expression shifted to one of playful curiosity. “So, what do you want to do next?” she asked, a grin playing on her lips.

“How about just watching a movie?” he suggested, her eyes brightening at the idea.

“Sounds perfect,” she replied, her enthusiasm infectious. He took her hand and led her to the living room, where the soft glow of the lamp cast a cozy light over the space.

Glen settled onto the couch, leaning back and resting his arm along the top cushion, leaving a gentle invitation open for her to move closer. Gabby sat beside him, a small, polite space between them, feeling a bit of nervous energy settle in her stomach. They both seemed to look anywhere but at each other for a moment, until Glen broke the silence, glancing at her with a grin.

“So, any movie requests?” he asked, his eyes warm as they held hers.

She hesitated before smiling, feeling a bit bold. "Maybe… a rom-com?" She could feel her cheeks warm as she said it, half-expecting him to cringe at the suggestion.

Instead, he raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Actually, I have a soft spot for a good rom-com,” he admitted, his voice easy and light.

Her face brightened in surprise. "Really?”

He shrugged with a playful grin. “Hey, some of them are classics. Besides, I can’t resist a good happy ending.”

They scrolled through the options, landing on one of the timeless ones. As the familiar opening scene started to play, Gabby felt herself relax, leaning just a bit closer. She glanced sideways, stealing a quick look at Glen, who caught her gaze and smiled. Gently, he moved his arm from the back of the couch to her shoulders, pulling her in a little closer with a soft, unspoken invitation.

“You comfortable?” he murmured, his tone gentle as his arm settled around her.

She nodded, settling comfortably into his side, a feeling of ease blooming between them. His hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb absentmindedly tracing soft circles that made her feel even warmer, more relaxed.

Just as she was beginning to lose herself in the comfort of being close to him, Brisket trotted over, eyeing the spot where she sat with mild curiosity before making a decision. Without hesitation, Brisket leapt onto her lap and nestled in, his head resting against her arm.

Gabby laughed, instinctively reaching to pet him. “Looks like I’ve been chosen,” she said with a smile, looking up at Glen.

He chuckled, shaking his head in mock betrayal. “He usually doesn’t pick other people. I guess you’re the exception.”

Glen reached out to ruffle Brisket’s ears, but Brisket stayed contently in Gabby’s lap, settling in with a sigh. Glen’s hand lingered on her shoulder as the movie began, and they both relaxed further into the moment.

Gabby felt a sense of warmth enveloping her—not just from the blanket they shared or Brisket’s presence on her lap, but from the connection she was building with Glen. She glanced up at him, her heart swelling with a mixture of excitement and affection. This was just the beginning, and she couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

As the movie played softly in the background, Gabby and Glen both gradually succumbed to the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence. The rhythmic sound of Brisket’s soft snores filled the room, providing a soothing backdrop that made it easy to drift off. Gabby nestled deeper into Glen’s side, the blanket cocooning them in a cozy embrace, and before long, her eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to sleep.

Just as the movie credits began to roll, Gabby stirred as the warmth of the blanket and the quiet hum of the living room began to pull her gently from sleep. She became aware of Glen’s arm draped across her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder, his warmth radiating through the soft fabric of her sweater. Without even thinking, she instinctively snuggled closer, her head nestling against his shoulder as she allowed herself another moment of comfortable, dreamy contentment.

Glen, not quite awake himself, responded by pulling her a little closer, his fingers grazing her arm in a gentle, absent-minded touch, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

For a fleeting moment, Gabby thought of how perfectly right it felt to wake up like this—curled up with him, his steady breath against her hair, and the quiet calm surrounding them. She caught herself smiling, not wanting to move, not wanting to break the spell of their closeness. Part of her wished she could freeze this feeling, to let herself fall back into the cozy haze of sleep with him there beside her.

As she finally stirred enough to lift her head, Glen's eyes blinked open, still soft with sleep. He looked at her and gave a slow, drowsy smile.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice quiet and warm.

“Hey,” she whispered back, feeling herself smile even wider.

His hand, still resting on her shoulder, gave a gentle squeeze, as though reassuring her that he felt the same warmth between them.

“You fell asleep on me.”

“I guess I did,” Gabby replied, stifling a yawn and brushing a few stray hairs from her face.

“Feel like staying a little longer?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving hers. She could feel the comfort and sincerity in his gaze, and for a moment, the idea of staying sounded tempting, like something she might even want.

She hesitated, a blush warming her cheeks as she finally managed to murmur, “I... I should probably get going.” It was too soon, she thought, for the kind of tenderness that staying might mean. But as much as she knew it, part of her still didn’t want to move from his side.

Glen nodded with an understanding smile, though she noticed a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "I’ll walk you out," he said, his voice gentle.

He gave her one last little squeeze, his hand lingering on her arm for just a beat longer. Then he helped her stand, his touch never far as they both blinked away the remnants of sleep.

Together, they made their way to the front door, Gabby’s heart warming at the simple gesture. As they stepped outside into the cool night air, she glanced back at Glen, his eyes shining under the soft porch light.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, feeling a rush of gratitude. “I had a really great time.”

“Me too,” he replied, taking a step closer. “I’m glad we got to spend it together.”

The moment hung between them, charged with an unspoken understanding. Glen reached out, pulling her into a warm hug, holding her close for a moment longer than necessary. As they broke apart, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, the sweetness of the moment lingering in the air.

“Goodnight, Gabby,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

“Goodnight, Glen,” she replied, a smile blooming on her face as she stepped back toward her car.

As she slid into the driver’s seat, she took one last look at him, and he gave her a small wave, his expression a mix of happiness and hope. Gabby couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement as she drove away, the night still fresh in her mind.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell Series #Glen Powell x OC #Glen Powell x Original Character

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

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{11} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Wooyoung)

Words: 20,320

Warnings: Overstimulation, Face Sitting - Oral (fem. rec.), Wooyoung has a long tongue (think venom), OC gets a Lap Dance/Striptease, Dragon Dick (briefly), Switch Tendencies (from both of them), Massive Dirty Talk, Mirror Sex (technically speaking), Wall Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Praise, Wings (Does this count as Monster Fucking? I'm counting it as Monster Fucking), so much EMOTION, Mental Illness. PTSD: mentions of past trauma and allusions to past violence, anxiety, depression. I think that's everything This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I do really hope you all enjoy this, as it turned out WAY longer than I ever anticipated. I do highly recommend listening to the songs mentioned in this chapter when they appear to get the full effect. Yeah... so... Wooyoung Stans, come get y'all juice, this man is one kinky mf... Also, he's a demon, so he CAN lift you, shush. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten

You don’t know how long you remain in the music room for, but by the time the sun is in the opposite corner of the sky, you can feel your stomach churning with hunger. You wager it’s now about mid-afternoon, Kuroo having left some time ago as you had continued to play different melodies on the piano.

Yeosang had stayed with you for a little while, simply content to listen to you play as he gently stroked a hand over Kuroo’s fur. Of course, he was a little disgruntled when Yunho pulled him away with Mingi to spar with them for the afternoon. He had been quite enjoying this time with you far too much for his own good.

Listening to you play is a dream come true. All that’s really left to do is play with you.

Now, as you begin to make your way out of the music room, you can feel the effect of not having eaten anything since breakfast this morning. Your hands are a little shaky, and you’re a little lightheaded. Your back is a little stiff from sitting on the piano bench for so long, too, but you haven’t felt this good in weeks. There’s a new lightness to each step you take, and you feel as if you could do anything right now.

Faintly, you can hear music coming from the dance studio as you walk by, and you risk a glance inside. The door remains closed, but the window does not obstruct your view of Wooyoung sitting on the floor. It appears as if he’s currently doing some stretches.

At the way his head darts up, gaze shifting towards the reflection of the door in the mirror, you’re quick to scurry down the hallway.

You feel a small heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head. Food first, then maybe, just maybe, you’ll finally brave the dance studio. Even so much as standing outside of it with the door open will be enough for you today. Despite how good you’re feeling, you don’t want to push yourself too far.

Reaching the kitchen, you’re quick to make yourself something to eat. A glass of water is placed beside you, refilling the cup once you’re finished. After a quick clean up, you stretch your back out one more time, cracking your neck while you’re at it.

This time, when you step out into the hallway, the music from the dance studio sounds the slightest bit louder. Though, it’s nothing compared to the sound of your racing heart.

Briefly, that horrid day with Miyeon flashes through your mind, and you take a deep breath.

You pause, shuffling from foot to foot with that glass of water held tightly in your hands. You cling onto it as you stare down into the clear liquid, worrying your bottom lip in the process. Then, in a moment of clarity, you steel your nerves, slowly traversing down the hallway once more.

She cannot hurt you anymore.

You discover that the reason the music sounds louder than before is because the door to the studio has now been left opened. It seems as if Wooyoung needed some fresh air.

The water in that glass sways slightly as your hand trembles. It’s barely noticeable, except for the way the level tips back and forth just beneath the rim of the glass.

You swallow your nerves, keeping your gaze so intently focussed on that cup for the moment. That is, until finally, you risk looking up.

Subconsciously, you shuffle forward to get a better glance at the male inside. Your lips part, and your breath catches in your throat as your eyes widen the slightest bit in awe. You don’t even realize you’ve leant yourself against the doorframe, the trembling in your hands stopping as the dancing male before you completely enraptures you for the time being.

He seems to be dancing some sort of contemporary choreography. Each extension of his body, such as the reaching of his arms in the air as if he’s desperately attempting to grasp onto something that keeps slipping through his fingers, is mesmerizing. You cannot even help the slight awe filled gasp that catches in your throat as he leaps through the air, his legs kicking out in succession behind him as his body twists elegantly with every movement.

You don’t recognize the song playing through the speakers, but just from the way he moves, you can tell that it means a lot to him. His eyes are closed as he loses himself to the music, and as the final notes ring out, you swear you see a single tear trail a path down the side of his cheek.

The only sound that now fills the silence of the room is his heavy breathing. His chest heaves as he remains in his final pose, his head tilted towards the floor with his back slightly slouched as he stands there looking almost defeated. His bright red hair, of which you noticed he changed only the other day, is pushed back from his face, a few stray strands framing his forehead as they begin to cling to his skin with sweat.

You take a moment to trail your gaze over him, observing him carefully. He wears a loosely fitted button up, a light blue in colour almost reminiscent of a denim material. The sleeves are rolled up halfway, showcasing his forearms. Light grey sweatpants with black and white stripes running down either side seem to cover his legs, yet his feet remain bare.

Blinking your eyes back into focus, you lift your head.

The first thing you notice is that Wooyoung seems to have shifted his gaze from the floor. Though, that’s not what catches you off guard. No, it’s the fact that he’s already looking directly at you in the reflection of the mirror as if he cannot believe his very eyes.

He turns almost instantly as soon as you meet his stunned stare in the mirror, the movement frantic and rushed. It’s as if he believes that he’s imagining things, and that once he turns to get a proper look at the entrance to the dance studio, you’ll no longer be there.

You can’t be standing there. It’s just another figment of his imagination from all of the times that he’s fantasized about this happening. It just isn’t possible.

The instant he sees that you’re still there, and that his vision is not playing tricks on him, he freezes. You can physically hear the hitch in his breath as his whole body stills, his wide eyes never leaving your figure for even one second.

He blinks. Once. Twice. Then, he’s swallowing thickly, his throat bobbing with the movement.

His lips part as if he wishes to say something, but no words escape him.

Honestly, he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing right now, and scaring you away. This is the first time he’s seen you even acknowledge the dance studio in weeks, and he doesn’t want to ruin this moment for all it’s worth. Even if this is all he gets, he’ll take it, clinging onto this single memory like a lifeline after everything you’ve been through. A memory which he’ll cherish until the day he can truly show you his passions, and reclaim this room for the both of you.

The silence stretches on between you, and you notice the tips of his fingers beginning to shake. Not even a second later, he’s clinging onto the material of his sweats to ground himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he continues to think of something, anything, to say.

Taking a slow, steady breath in to calm your nerves, you beat him too it.

“Want some company?”

You swear you can physically see the tears of relief lining his eyes as his breath catches once more in his throat.

He swallows thickly, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I would love nothing more.”

Before you can even so much as take a step forward, he’s in front of you. His hands go to reach out to you before stopping himself, hesitant in each one of his movements. He wants nothing more than to reassure you that he’s here, but he also doesn’t want to push you too far, too fast. This is already more than he could have ever hoped for, and the fact that you’re actually entering the dance studio of your own free will, that you want to be here, means more to him than you’ll ever know.

Cautiously, your eyes dart around the room, shifting from one corner to the next. Everything about the space has been fixed; not a spec remains from the incident about a month and a half ago, but the memories do. Memories which threaten to pull you back into your own head, reliving the horror as if for the first time.

A gentle hand is placed onto the side of your arm, and you jump, the touch having pulled you from your thoughts.

Wooyoung’s expression falls.

“I’ve got you, Angel.” He attempts a weak smile. “I promise I’ll never let anything hurt you in this space again.”

Finally, you lift your head to fully meet his gaze, offering him a comforting smile of your own. “I believe you.”

The hand he has placed onto the side of your arm squeezes you assuringly.

You take a moment to observe his features, noting the worried furrow of his brow as he watches you carefully. There’s even a small bead of sweat that rolls down the side of his temple, but he seems to not notice.

Your hand tightens subconsciously around the glass in your hand.

“Oh,” you blink, as if realizing something. “Here.”

Extending the glass out to him, you offer him your water.

Wordlessly, he takes the glass from your hand, a small tug of his lips upwards as he thanks you lowly. Not even a second later, he’s taking a small sip.

With both hands free, you gently clasp them in front of yourself, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you shift from foot to foot. Your gaze flits all around the room, shoulders tense as you stand there before him.

“Angel-“

Wooyoung’s worried tone gets cut off almost immediately by you.

“Can I-“ you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath in to steady your nerves. “I want to watch you dance.”

Wooyoung’s breath hitches for the nth time that day.

“Please, Wooyoung,” You blink your eyes open, meeting his wide eyed gaze. “Won’t you dance for me?”

Wooyoung swears his heart has stopped beating inside of his chest. This is everything that he’s ever wanted, and so much more. The fact that you’re asking him right now to do something that he’s always wanted to do for you is making his head spin, and he nearly drops the glass of water held in his one hand.

“Are you-“ he swallows the sudden dryness in his throat, “Are you sure?”

You smile faintly, nodding your head. “I want to watch My Sunshine light up this room with his passion like he’s always wanted to do for me.”

There is no denying the tremble in Wooyoung’s hands as he pulls you immediately into his embrace. His head buries itself into the side of your neck, careful not to spill any water on you in his quick movements.

You hear him sniffle lightly right by your ear.

“This room has always been intended for us,” you whisper, tightening your own hold around his back. The words you currently speak are just as much for you as they are for him right now. “Not her.”

“She will never be able to hurt you again.” His voice is low, but the promise is clear. “Not if I have anything to do about it.”

You smile faintly, nodding along softly to what he says. “Besides, I’m curious.”

“Oh?” He chuckles, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes.

“Thing for dancers, remember?” You crack a teasing grin, and the way his whole demeanour perks up says it all.

“How could I ever forget?” He wiggles his brows suggestively, an eager tug upwards to the corner of his lips. “I do have one condition before I start, though.”

This time, it’s your turn for your brow to quirk, “Oh?”

“Dance with me.” He breathes, his eyes shining as he stares deeply into your own.

Your lips part slightly, blinking in mild shock, “I’m not much of a dancer…”

Wooyoung parts from you only briefly to place the glass of water off to the side of the room where the stereo resides.

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, setting up a song in the queue before walking back over to you for the moment. He offers you his hand, “Just follow my lead.”

For a moment, you glance between his hand and his face. You can see the slight nervousness lingering in his gaze as he looks at you, the tips of his fingers shaking the faintest bit as he holds them in the air. His shoulders are a little tense, and you can see his eyes practically pleading with you to accept his offer. To accept him.

Taking a deep breath, you do.

Placing your hand in his, you allow him to guide your body into his own. His touch is nothing but gentle as he places his opposite hand onto your waist, your own coming to settle on his shoulder as a familiar melody begins to trickle through the speakers.

Your breath hitches as the opening notes to Elton John’s Your Song begin to fill the room.

“This is-“ your eyes shine as they meet his own, and you notice his crinkling in the corners.

“I know.” He smiles, holding onto you a little bit tighter as he begins to guide you around the room with smooth steps. “I wanted it for us, too.”

Your heart swells with warmth in your chest. The fact that he knows how important this song is to you, it being your parent’s wedding song and all, has a love unlike anything before flooding your veins. This song is for you as much as its meaning is for them. You sung it for them, for him, and now you’re dancing to it, too.

A special memory for what you’re sure is soon to be a very special place.

Each step is fluid, Wooyoung moving you from one spot to the next. All the while, he pulls you close. His touch is nothing short of gentle, grasping your hand in his as if you are the finest piece of glass he has ever had the pleasure of holding. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he notices the way your eyes shine as you meet his gaze. A fond look which he knows is reflected in his own as he stares back at you with nothing but tender love and affection.

Nothing could take this moment away from either of you. The music surrounds you like a warm, comforting blanket after a long, cold day, easing some of the tension from the both of your shoulders as you continue to twirl around the room.

This time, when it reaches the chorus, it’s Wooyoung that pulls you in closer to him. Softly, he rests his head against the side of your own, humming gently. His voice is low as he sings along to the words that float tenderly through the air.

You hold him tighter, tears of joy beginning to sting at the corners of your eyes as this moment settles over you. All that matters to you right now is the way Wooyoung guides you around the room, spinning you lightly in his arms as the two of you dance together for the very first time. A dance of which you know will be the first of many more to come.

“See, you’re doing amazing, Angel.” He hums, the smile he wears lighting up the room.

You nuzzle against him affectionately, allowing your eyelids to flutter closed as the music surrounds you. “It’s because you’re here to guide me.”

A content rumble reverberates in his chest.

“I am deeply in love with you, My Angel.” He places a lingering kiss against the side of your head. “Forever and always.”

“Wooyoung,” Your eyes shine as you meet his own, nothing but love reflected in your gaze as you place a kiss onto his cheek. “I am in love with you, My Sunshine.”

You can feel his fingers pressing a little bit more firmly into your skin as you say this, his whole demeanour practically glowing as he holds onto you. You just know that if he could, he’d stay in this moment with you forever, and honestly, with how calm he’s making you feel, so would you.

All too soon, the song comes to an end.

“Thank you for dancing with me.” He keeps his voice low, nothing more than a mere whisper in your ear as he hugs you to his chest. One hand cradles the back of your head while the other rests on the small of your back. “This is everything I could have ever asked for.”

You smile, holding onto him just as tightly as he holds onto you. “I’ll dance with you like this whenever you’d like, Sunshine. As long as you’re here to guide me.”

Faintly, you register a tear landing on your shoulder. Tenderly, you stroke a hand down his back.

“I don’t want you to be scared anymore.” He admits, voice rough as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I let her hurt you.“

“Wooyoung-“

The worried call of his name from you is cut off by him.

“I let her hurt you in our own home.” His breath catches in his throat. “She-“ he swallows thickly. “She almost killed you in my own space.”

You meet his gaze, ensuring that he cannot look away as you cling onto his shoulders for dear life.

“It is not your fault.” Your voice is firm as you speak these words, but you can tell that he’s not going to listen to you right now.

“It is.” Another tear slides freely down his cheek as he shakes his head. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, Wooyoung-“

“She knew how much this space meant to me, what it means to me, and she wanted to use it to send a message.” He avoids your gaze, as if the words he admits to are the greatest sin he could ever confess. “I was always the closest to her out of all of us, and she always wanted me to dance for her.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I could never say ‘no’ to her.”

Understanding washes over you. “You really loved her.”

His chin begins to tremble as he nods. A moment later, he bites his bottom lip.

“I did.” He inhales a shaky breath. “She never did anything without reason, so her choosing the dance studio… it was her way of saying that this was her space before it could ever be yours. She probably thought that it was still her space.”

Your hands come up to cup his face gently, guiding his gaze back to your own. There’s a deeper realization flitting through your mind now, and as you watch him blink open his eyes, you realize that just as with the others, he needs you being here with him as much as you need to be here in this room with him right now.

“But she’s not here now.” Your voice comes out much firmer than you ever thought it would. “Is she?”

He exhales a low breath, hands coming up to settle on top of your own. “No.”

“I am tired of letting her control me.” You swallow, fingers pressing the slightest bit more firmly into his skin. “Of letting her control us. She doesn’t get that satisfaction. Not now. Not ever. This is our home. It will always be our home, and you made this space for us. I think it’s time that we replace her tainted presence in this space with special memories of our own, and I’d say we’ve already started.” You meet his gaze, your own softening as you smile. “Wouldn’t you?”

He squeezes your hands, and you notice his throat bob as he begins to nod. Finally, it seems as if he’s listening to what you have to say.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Softly, he leans forward to rest his forehead against your own. “I won’t let her hurt us in this space again.”

Your eyes fall shut as you hum in agreement, and you can hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you exhale lightly.

“Make new memories with me, Sunshine.” You whisper, holding him close. “Dance for me.”

It takes only a moment before he starts nodding softly along with your words. You can feel his heart thundering against his chest as he presses right up against you, your own beating just as erratically as his is.

“I would love nothing more.” His voice is but a tender caress as he leans in to place his lips upon your skin.

For a moment, he lingers, revelling in this moment with you and what it means.

He won’t let her hurt you again. This is your space. A space meant for the two of you, and it always will be.

Blinking his eyes open, he finally pulls away from you. Wooyoung clears his throat lightly, wiping his lingering tears from his face as he straightens in his spot. A gentle smile pulls at his lips.

“I think I know just the dance I wish to show you first.” He says, walking you over to the mirrors.

Catching your reflection, you pause. Your breath hitches slightly, noticing the placement you stand in, seeing yourself resting right in front of the same panel which Miyeon threw you at all those weeks ago. You swear you can hear the way the mirror shatters still echoing through your ears, the cracks appearing in your vision the longer you stare at the panel before you.

Immediately, Wooyoung notices, concern furrowing his brow as you seemingly retreat into your own head.

“Hey, hey,” he gets you to look at him. “Remember, you’re here and she’s not. You’re safe now. Nothing will ever harm you again.”

You take a moment, glancing at your reflection once more. Then, slowly, you begin to nod. Every second that passes with you looking at both your image and his in the mirror solidifies that you’re okay. The panel is no longer broken, and neither are you. You are alive, and she can no longer hurt you. Besides, you are no longer the person you were when all of that happened, nor do you long to be.

You turn your back to the mirror, facing Wooyoung with a newfound softness to your gaze. He’s right, and you just know that nothing that she can do will ever harm you again.

He smiles gently in response, cupping the side of your face in his one palm briefly before moving over to set up the next song. In the blink of an eye, he stands in the centre of the room, rolling his shoulders out as he takes a deep breath to steady his nerves. This will be the first time he’s truly dancing for you, and he wants it to be special. Of course, Wooyoung is prepared to give his all for you, like always. He just hopes you enjoy what he’s about to show you, for there is nothing more intimate than he can offer you than his own soul while dancing.

He takes another deep breath in.

Finally, he’s ready to perform.

Sparing one final glance over to you, he sees you sitting on the ground, your back against the mirrors. Your knees are bent before you as you look up at him with wide eyes, excitement gleaming within.

He swallows thickly, and the music begins.

Of all the songs you thought Wooyoung would choose to dance for you first, never could you have ever imagined it to be Hozier’s Take Me To Church. The first notes are sombre, and so is his expression as he begins to move, and you cannot help the way your breath hitches in your throat. Your entire body stills as the meaning of him performing a song like this washes over you, and you realize right then and there that his guilt over what happened to you in this very room runs deeper than you’ll ever know.

Your eyes never leave him for even one second, and when the first chorus hits, you can see how he begins to get lost in the music. Each movement is precise, never once faltering in his concentration despite the slight tremble you can see in the tips of his fingers as he extends his arms above his head. His wrists are locked together, as if they are physically bound by a manifestation of his regret over what happened to you before he pulls them back down, moving into the next part of the dance flawlessly.

Wooyoung can feel his heart pounding inside of his chest, the lyrics washing over his very soul as he performs this dance for you. He’s never been one to care about religious imagery before, being a demonic entity and all, but there is no greater sin he feels that he has committed than letting you down. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for what Miyeon did to you, and every day, that guilt eats him alive. With this dance, he can no longer hide his true feelings. Not that he really could, anyways. At least, not from you.

Dancing has been his salvation, but after what happened to you, in this room, no less, he finds that it may never mean the same thing to him again. Though, after what you’ve already said to him today, there’s a small glimmer of hope that he desperately clings to. A glimmer which tells him that everything might actually turn out okay; things are never truly as bad as they seem.

You’ll get through this. Together. One step at a time.

The moment the bridge hits, the first of his tears that he had been desperately attempting to hold back begin to fall. Wooyoung pours all of his emotions into every movement, resonating deeply with the lyrics being sung right now as he feels your eyes on him as he flows from one step into the next.

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest, and he begins to find it difficult to breathe. How you can even bare to look at him as he confesses to his greatest sins to you is beyond him. Right now, there is nothing artificial between you. No titles. No pretences. Only you and him. Two damaged souls who are finding refuge in the comfort of one another’s presence as he bares himself to the one he loves most.

That’s all he’s ever wanted; all that he could ever ask for.

He swallows thickly, the last line of the bridge echoing throughout the room.

Only then I am human. Only then I am clean.

Wooyoung falls to his knees, the movement synonymous with the first of your own tears that blaze a path down the sides of your cheeks.

The final chorus of the song rings out around you, and you watch as Wooyoung performs for you with all that he is. The whole time, his eyes remain closed, almost as if he’s too ashamed to so much as meet your gaze now. Still, you don’t need to have his hearing abilities to know that his heart is absolutely racing inside of his chest.

The tips of his fingers have yet to stop trembling.

The silence that echoes throughout the studio is deafening as the final notes of the song dissipate throughout the air. You can hardly keep your hands from shaking as you see Wooyoung practically collapsed into his final pose. His arms are extended towards you, palms facing upwards in complete submission and surrender as he curls in on himself while resting on his knees. Even you can see the way his back shakes from the weight of his sobs, and before you register what you’re doing, you’re beside him, pulling him into your loving arms.

“Oh, Wooyoung-“

“I’m sorry.” His wails have your heart squeezing painfully in your chest as he collapses into your embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

Softly, you shush him, cooing comforting words into his ear as you tenderly rub a hand over his back. You can feel his tears hitting your skin as he buries his face into the side of your neck, latching onto your form as if you may disappear at any moment.

“It’s all my fault.” He chokes on a sob. “It’s all my fault.”

“Shhh, no it’s not.” Gently, you comb the fingers of your hand through his hair. “It has never been, and will never be, your fault.”

He sobs harder.

“She did this to us. Please, never think that I’ve ever blamed you for anything that she did.” You keep your voice low, steady as you hold him close. “I’m sorry I let her taint this room. I’m sorry I let her manipulate me into hurting the people that I love most.”

“Angel-“

“You’re a beautiful dancer, Wooyoung.” You pull away to stare deeply into his eyes, cupping his face tenderly in your hands. “I’m sorry it took me so long to be able to acknowledge that.”

His breath hitches slightly, and you take this time to wipe his tears away. Not even a moment later, you’re dabbing gently at his sweat with the sleeve of your shirt.

“My only regret is not asking you to perform for me sooner.” The corners of your lips twitch upwards faintly. “Maybe then she wouldn’t have been able to worm her way into my head like this. Maybe then you wouldn’t be hurting like this. Because of me.”

Lightly, Wooyoung shakes his head. “We could have never known she would do this to us.”

“No,” you agree. “We didn’t.”

You take a moment to spare another glance around the room, taking in all of the new details you missed on your way in. There seems to be a small couch pushed against the one wall that’s been added since the very first house tour you went on all those months ago. Small windows have been added, lining the top of the opposite wall across from you. The wooden floor is now a light brown, the hardwood interconnected seamlessly, and the new panelling against the sides is a cement grey. Though, the closer you look, the more you realize that the walls are just that - cement.

The feeling of Wooyoung brushing his thumb along the skin on the back of your hand draws your attention to him for the moment.

“You okay, Gorgeous?” His inquiry is soft, a hint of worry shining behind his eyes.

At least it appears that he’s calmed down.

“I’ll be okay, Woo.” You assure him. “The longer I spend here with you, the better it gets. You make me feel safe.”

He squeezes your hand, your words meaning more to him than you’ll ever know. “I’m glad.”

Carefully, he helps you back to your feet.

“Will you-“ you shift slightly from foot to foot, as if suddenly nervous to be asking him something. You avert your gaze, a heat blooming on your cheeks. “Will you keep dancing for me?”

“Of course, Angel.” The smile that pulls onto his lips is nothing short of radiant. “Never be shy to ask me to dance for you. It’s one of my absolute favourite things to do. Getting to share this passion of mine with you means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“I’m glad.” This time, it’s you who hums, shifting to meet his gaze. “I love watching people dance. Even better that it’s you.”

A pleased rumble shakes his chest. “Is it too early to be able to call myself your favourite dancer, then?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think about it. “I don’t know, Taemin’s got a few years on you.”

The growl that escapes his lips is nothing short of feral as you find yourself suddenly pressed up against the mirrors.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I’ll show you what you’ve been missing out on all these years, Angel.” His voice is but a low drawl right by your ear. The way you shiver in his arms has a smirk pulling on his lips. “I’ll admit, the last dance might have selfishly been for me, but this one?” He trails his nose along the column of your throat before lightly nipping at the skin with his teeth. “This next one’s all for you.”

Much too soon for your liking, he’s pulled away from you. It only takes him a moment to queue up the next song, returning to the centre of the room as you slide back down the mirror to sit back on the floor. Anticipation claws at your chest, excitement thrumming in your veins as you see him staring at you with hooded eyes.

A second later, you find out why.

The familiar opening notes to Taemin’s Press Your Number begin to play through the speakers, and you audibly gasp. You find that you cannot tear your eyes away from Wooyoung as he begins to dance, that smug smirk pulling at his lips the whole time. The way your fingers dig into the skin of your thighs to ground yourself says it all.

You know he knows how much you love this song, not to mention this dance. Considering that this was the song you used to distract him with all those months ago in order to win that bet, you know he doesn’t particularly like this song. Hell, you’re sure he’s not the biggest fan of Taemin considering your affection towards the artist. Still, the fact that he learned this dance for you, and is now eagerly performing it as you watch him, means the world to you. A fact of which you’re sure he’s well aware of.

Special memories indeed.

Subconsciously, your lips part, tongue coming out to wet them as you watch Wooyoung move his hips so sensually to the beat. It might just be your imagination, but watching him perform this for you is much more intense than watching Taemin dance has ever been. Perhaps it’s the fact that this is for you that makes it all the more intense. Maybe, perhaps, it’s just because it’s him.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat.

Every movement he makes is precise, watching your reactions carefully. The way he can see your breathing deepen, lips moving in time with the words as you stare, transfixed by him and him alone sets his heart racing in his chest. He knew learning this dance for you would be well worth it in the end. Just seeing you looking at him like this, with such an awed filled gazed full of nothing but admiration and love makes his head spin. Not to mention how dark your gaze has suddenly become. The fact that he can hear your heart racing in time with his own is simply icing on the cake.

Finally, he has captivated you in the same ways you have always captivated him.

His smirk widens.

Never did Wooyoung believe he could ever enjoy performing this dance so thoroughly, but the fact that it’s for you has a pleasant thrum echoing throughout his veins. He absolutely adores the feeling of your eyes on him, and he has to suppress the pleasant shiver that wants to caress his spine when he takes a deep breath in only to scent the faintest beginnings of that familiar, intoxicating aroma of your arousal.

He did this to you. Heis doing this to you, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Lowly, he sings along to the final line of the song, staring deeply into your eyes all the while. The way your breath hitches says it all, and despite his heaving chest, Wooyoung cannot keep the pleased growl from escaping him at the way you’re looking at him. There is no mistaking the darkness in your eyes, or the way that you’re almost breathing as heavily as he is right now.

You cannot tear your gaze away, heart thundering as you slowly push yourself back to your feet as he stands back to his own. Slowly, you close the distance between the two of you, noticing how he eagerly meets you halfway.

Wooyoung watches you through hooded eyes, loving how your hands immediately find purchase on his shoulders as you come to stand before him.

“You learnt this for me?” Your inquiry is a bit breathless, gaze shining with nothing but affection as you search his own.

The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he nods. “I want you thinking of me dancing these songs for you, not him.”

You say nothing, that same look of awe painting your features as your hands slide up his neck to cup his face.

Finally, he allows that shiver to caress his spine.

“I, uh-“ he swallows, your scent suddenly overwhelming him as he attempts to control himself. He clears his throat. “I also just enjoy seeing you happy. Knowing it’s because of me is a dream come true.”

Your heart swells in your chest at his words. “You’ve made me so incredibly happy right now, Wooyoung. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

He cannot keep the grin from his lips, eyes crinkling as he giggles. “Does this mean you think I’m a better dancer than Taemin is?”

“Baby steps, Sunshine.” You chuckle.

He pouts, quite dramatically at that.

“Hey, you’ll always have something that he never will.” You hum, teasingly trailing your finger over his chest.

“Oh?” He quirks a brow, almost knowingly. “What’s that?”

You meet his gaze. “Me.”

The growl that escapes him as he pulls you flush against him is nothing short of pleased. His lips trace over the skin of your neck, nose nudging against you affectionately as he holds you close.

“My Angel.” His voice is a mere rumble, his fingers digging into the skin of your back as he holds you close.

“My Sunshine.” You tenderly brush his hair back that’s fallen over his forehead. “My Dancer.”

Another pleased rumble escapes his chest, his lips beginning to trail lightly over your racing pulse.

“There’s another dance I wish to perform for you today, Angel.” He begins lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear. “A dance meant only for you.”

“You can dance for me as long as you want, Sunshine.” You say earnestly, hugging him tightly.

“No, Angel, please don’t misunderstand,” he chuckles. “This is a bit different than all of the others. This would be quite an intimate dance, meant only for the two of us.”

“Intimate?” You repeat the word back to him, a curious quirk to your brow.

“Long have I desired to be able to dance for you, and now that I have, I find that I wish to fully demonstrate every aspect of my performance art for you.” He admits lowly. “Will you let me show you the extent of my desires for you, Angel? May I dance for you?”

The inhale you take is sharp, understanding lighting behind your eyes as you see his own flitting all over your face. It’s as if he’s taking the time to memorize every little detail that your expression has to offer him.

You swallow thickly, beginning to nod your head slowly at first, until you can no longer hide your eagerness. No one has ever offered to perform something so intimate for you, and you find your heartbeat accelerating the more you think about it. Despite knowing he’s wanted to dance for you since the beginning, hell, even before he properly met you, you never thought he’d want to give you a lap dance.

Your stomach twists in excitement.

Wooyoung smirks against your skin, backing you up slightly until you’ve reached the centre of the room. Then, he’s guiding you down onto a chair that’s appeared out of thin air. Luckily, there are no arm rests, but you still cannot prevent the hitch in your breath as your body makes contact with the wood.

“Let me show you exactly what you do to me, Angel.” He nips lightly at your ear, running his hands down your arms comfortingly. A second later, he pulls away. Slowly. “Let me show you how much you mean to me."

“Yes.” The word is breathless as it falls from your lips, your hands clinging to the sides of the chair you sit on for support. “Please.”

His smug expression says it all.

Sending you a cheeky wink, Wooyoung is quick to move over to the stereo once more. His back is to you as he sets up the song, and he can feel your heated gaze practically boring a hole between his shoulder blades the whole time. Turning his head, he meets your eyes, his lips tugging upwards again in the corners. He blows you a kiss.

You wish you could deny the way your heart flutters from that simple action, but the anticipation thrumming through your veins is making you highly susceptible to everything him. Not to mention that you absolutely adore the fact that he wants to perform something like this for you. To say you’re excited to see just what he does would be a severe understatement. The fact that it’s him performing it for you only makes such a moment that much more intense.

“Keep your eyes on me, Angel.” His voice is but a low growl on his lips as you see that familiar darkness swirling within his gaze. “Eyes on me, and hands behind your back.”

You blink, somewhat in a daze, “Uh-“

“Don’t worry, Angel,” he smiles assuringly at you, straightening slightly in his spot. “I won’t make you go the whole song without touching me. I don’t think I could, even if I tried.”

Heat floods your veins at the implications, your throat bobbing as you swallow the sudden dryness that forms. “Okay.”

Slowly, and with meticulous movements, you shift your hands behind your back, clasping them gently behind the chair. Your shoulders are a little stiff, but with each passing moment, you remind yourself that this time, it’s you who controls your actions. No one is forcing your hands down, nor are they bound like before. You can get up and move at any point in time, but you will stay seated here like this for now. For him.

She cannot hurt you anymore. Besides, he’s doing this for you.

He meets your gaze, hands trembling as he attempts to ground himself by the stereo. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Your eager nod which accompanies your one word says it all.

Wooyoung can feel his heart absolutely racing inside of his chest as he hits play on the song. His head is tilted downwards for the moment, no longer facing you as the opening notes of The Weeknd’s Earned It begin totrickle out through the speakers.

Desperately, Wooyoung attempts to steady his breathing. His eyes darken with every inhale he takes. For too long has he dreamt of performing something like this for you, and now that the moment has finally come, he finds that he can hardly contain his own excitement. The fact that you can’t seem to tear your eyes off of him is the best feeling he’s ever experienced in his life, and he hasn’t even started yet.

The second the beat truly kicks in, he’s turning to you. A moment later, he’s sliding up to the chair you’re sitting on in one fluid movement as he comes to kneel before you. His hands settle gently onto your knees, as his eyes flutter closed, rolling his head once in a circle in time with the music. The instant his eyes flash open to reveal those pitch black pools of darkness you’ve become so used to, your breath hitches in your throat.

“You make it look like it’s magic.” Wooyoung’s voice is nothing short of seductive as he lowly sings along to the song while staring deeply into your eyes. Carefully, he walks his fingers up your thighs before pushing your legs apart.

Tingles erupt on your skin wherever he touches, your heart racing inside of your chest. Your gaze remains locked on his own, noting every subtle twitch of his lips as he performs for you. A fact which you know he enjoys, for his eyes never stop swirling with that all too familiar darkness you’ve come to love so much from him.

Fluidly, he stands back to his feet, leaning into you as he cups your cheek tenderly in his hand for only a moment.

“So I love when you call unexpected.” Slowly, he begins to walk around to the back of the chair, his fingers tracing over your shoulder until he rests behind you. “‘Cause I hate when the moment’s expected.”

Your eyes track him the whole time in the mirror, noticing how he never shifts his gaze from you for one second. Similarly, his touch never leaves your skin, both hands resting on either one of your shoulders as he leans over you.

“So, I’ma care for you, you, you.” His breath caresses the shell of your ear as his fingers trail down your skin. Goosebumps soon erupt over your arms as he slowly, meticulously, drags his fingers back up your sides. “I’ma care for you, you, you, you.”

In the blink of an eye, Wooyoung has swung himself back to the front of the chair. His legs rest on either side of you, straddling you as he cups your face, oh, so tenderly in his hands.

“‘Cause girl, you’re perfect.” A slow grind against your lap in time with the lyrics.

“You’re always worth it.” He stares deeply into your eyes, transfixed by the very way you’re gazing at him with nothing but love and desire. A look he knows is reflected on his own features right now.

“And you deserve it,” He leans into your ear, nipping at your skin as he continues to move over you in time with the music, “The way you work it.”

He pulls back only to rest his forehead on your own, holding you tenderly in the palm of his hands.

“‘Cause girl, you earned it.” The hitch in your breath makes him smirk, feeling his whole body heating as he continues to grind himself into you in time with the beat of the song. “Girl, you earned it.”

The moment the second verse starts, he’s pulled himself away from you. You can feel the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin, swallowing thickly as you watch him begin to undo the buttons on his shirt. He never misses a beat, moving around you like a predator stalking his prey.

A pleasant shiver caresses your spine.

Appearing in front of you once more, you see his shirt fully open, the planes of his chest on full display. The way your breath hitches as he flicks the material off of his shoulders does not go unnoticed by him.

He smirks, loving how he can see you slowly being shaking in need as he allows the material to fall delicately to the ground. The fact that you waste no time trailing your gaze shamelessly over his bare torso has a pleased growl falling from his lips, his already aching cock twitching beneath his sweats.

Briefly, your eyes dart to that necklace you gave him all those long weeks ago.

This time when he sits in your lap, his hands are finding purchase on your shoulders. There’s no mistaking the tent in his pants, feeling his hard cock pressing up against you as he grinds himself meticulously against you in time with the second chorus. Only this time, his voice is more of a rumble as the words fall from his lips, a sharp hiss escaping him as he presses a little firmer down on your thighs as he moves over you.

Desperately, his fingers dig into your skin, holding you close as he commits every expression you give him to memory. The way your lips part, chest heaving alongside his own says it all.

As soon as the bridge hits, he’s swinging his leg over you and standing back to his feet. He shifts behind you, bending his knees slightly as he rolls his hips to the side. A blink, and he’s on the ground before you, knees shifting over the hardwood as he rolls his hips, his body soon following each movement that he makes.

Slowly, Wooyoung brings a hand up to his neck, wrapping his fingers lightly around his throat while staring at you through hooded eyes. Meticulously, he drags that hand down his torso, fingers tracing over that charm that hangs over his skin before sliding lower over his body.

Your eyes follow his every movement, watching as he cups himself over his sweats. A low moan escapes his lips as his eyes flutter shut.

“All for you, Angel.” His breath stutters. “I’m all yours.”

“Wooyoung,” His name is nothing more than a breathless moan on your lips as the final chorus begins to ring out around you.

Carefully, he shifts his hands, hooking his fingers beneath the waistline of his sweats. In one fluid movement, he’s stood back to his feet, all the while ridding himself of those grey sweatpants. A second later, he steps out of them only to straddle your lap. His black briefs leave nothing to the imagination as he presses himself firmly against your thighs, grinding down so sensually in time with the music that continues to surround you both.

“Angel,” he’s panting at this point, eyes falling shut. “Angel, please-“

You lick your lips.

“Please, touch me.”

Your hands are on him without another thought.

The whole time your fingers trace over his skin, wrapping around his torso and pulling him closer into you, you can feel him shaking. His thighs begin to tremble, and he can barely control his breathing as the final lines of the song wash over the both of you.

Bringing your hands up, you move one to tangle in his bright red locks. The other cups his face, bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. A kiss which he eagerly reciprocates as he continues to move over you.

You deserve it.

Your hands slide down his shoulders and light a fire upon his skin as he feels your nails trail over the front of his torso.

Girl, you deserve it.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you trail your hands downwards in order to squeeze his ass. The stuttering moan that he lets out against your mouth as you pull him in closer causes you to clench around nothing, swallowing his whimpers as his grinding meticulously slows over you. The desperate way he clings onto you says it all.

This is everything that he’s ever wanted, and so much more. The amount of pure ecstasy flowing through his veins right now, and all because you allowed him the pleasure of performing such an intimacy for you, begins to overwhelm him. With every breath he takes, he can feel his thighs shaking, his abdomen tightening as he attempts to control himself for the time being.

“Angel-“

The call of your name is but a mere shaky, breathless warning. One which you understand completely as the final notes of the song fade out around you.

“Go ahead, Wooyoung,” you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, giving his ass another appreciative squeeze. “Come for me. Come performing for Your Queen.”

The words have barely finished escaping your mouth when his eyes are fluttering shut. His brow furrows, and he stills above you, mouth parting as a low, desperate moan tumbles from his lips.

Leaning forwards, he rests his forehead against your own. His breathing comes in jagged pants, whole body tingling as the aftermath of his orgasm washes over him.

Nothing could take this moment away from him. Absolutely nothing. The fact that you wanted him to lose himself in you - for you - makes his head spin, heart swelling in his chest as he revels in your gentle touches.

Softly, you press your lips to his once more.

Whimpers continue to escape him as he feels you gently massaging his ass. The languid way your tongue moves against his own has nothing but pleasure flooding his veins once more, his arms settling around your shoulders as he cradles your head in his one hand.

Almost reluctantly, he parts from you, only to trail his lips down the side of your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, nipping at the sensitive flesh and eliciting the sweetest of moans from you. He smiles.

“I love you, My Angel.” Another kiss is placed directly over your pulse. “So much.”

“Wooyoung,” you smile, shifting your arms so that you can wrap him in your embrace. You bury your face into the side of his neck, placing a tender kiss of your own against his skin. “I love you.”

The pleased hum that builds in his chest reverberates against your own, and you feel him pull you impossibly closer.

“May I-“ he takes a deep, stuttering breath, and a moan escapes him at the way he can scent your arousal permeating the air. “May I please you, too?”

“You already have.” You hum, beginning to thread your fingers through his hair.

“As happy as that makes me to hear you say that, My Queen,” he pulls the slightest bit away to stare deeply into your eyes. “I want to make good on my promises, and show you just how well Your King can please His Goddess.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

“Please,” he nuzzles against you affectionately. “Won’t you let me?”

A second where you can feel your heart skip a beat inside of your chest.

“Yes.” You begin to nod, quite eagerly at that. “Only if I get to please you, too.”

Wooyoung smirks, “You already have.”

Your words of protest die in your throat as you feel him move off of you. With wide eyes, you stare up at him, feeling your heart warm at the tender way he looks down at you still seated in the chair.

Gingerly, he cups your face in his hands. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

“I just want you.” Your earnest reply sets his heart fluttering inside of his chest.

“Angel,” he coos, eyes shining with the weight of his emotions. He swallows, his throat bobbing with the movement. “That’s not entirely what I meant, but your answer still means the world to me.”

You blink up at him, tilting your head in mild curiosity. “Then, what did you mean, Sunshine?”

“I cannot please you to the best of my abilities if you do not tell me how.” The way he repeats those same words to you that he said all those months ago has your breath hitching in your throat.

Not even a moment later, a devious smirk is pulling at your features.

“Oh?” You tilt your head slightly in his direction, standing back to your feet slowly. “And here I was thinking the self-proclaimed ‘Master of Seduction’ had me all figured out.”

His brow quirks, a low chuckle falling from his lips. “I’ve made some deductions, yes.”

“Then show me everything you’ve learned, Angel.” The way he shivers as you drawl out that particular name does not go unnoticed by you. Your grin widens, and you step closer. Keeping your voice low you whisper into his ear, “After all, I’ve made some deductions of my own.”

Gently, you nip at his skin, hands finding purchase on his shoulders as his own find purchase on your waist. The low groan that tumbles from his lips says it all.

His eyes flash, “With pleasure, My Queen.”

Wooyoung moves in to kiss you once more, but your finger on his lips freezes him in his spot.

His brow furrows, worry immediately shining within his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is perfect.” You smile assuringly at him. “I just have one request before we begin.”

“Anything.” He breathes, nothing but sincerity reflected in his gaze.

“I wish to make love to you here.” Your grip tightens on his shoulders. “In this room.”

Wooyoung blinks. Once. Twice. Three times before he manages to get his thoughts under control. His racing heart feels as if it will beat right out of his chest at any moment, a fire lighting in his veins as his breathing deepens. The full meaning of what you’re asking him settles over his very soul, and he cannot contain the way his eyes flash black, a pleased growl rumbling in his chest as he pulls you flush against him.

His lips part, but only pants escape him. His head continues to spin, grip tightening over your hips as he feels that familiar tightening of his abdomen. A moment later, his cock begins to throb, his whole body heating beneath your intense stare.

“Are you-“ he manages to choke out, “Are you sure?”

“More than anything, Sunshine.” Your loving expression says it all.

In the blink of an eye, Wooyoung has you wrapped in his arms. You feel yourself falling forwards, bouncing slightly as you land on top of him on what appears to be a mattress that he’s made appear on the floor. White linen sheets greet your gaze, and suddenly the whole room is bathed in candle light.

The soft flickering of flames illuminate the entire space, casting a warm glow over his tan skin. His eyes hold nothing but tender love and fondness as he gazes up at you, your legs resting on either side of his waist. His hands still grip your hips so gently, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath he takes.

Softly, his fingers caress your sides, trailing beneath your shirt and causing the material to lift slightly. Wooyoung can feel the tips of his fingers tingling everywhere your skin makes contact with his own, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“Angel,” There is nothing but affection dripping from his tone as he stares up at you in awe. “You are my everything.”

You smile down at him, reaching out to cup his face tenderly in the palm of your hand. Gently, your thumb strokes over his cheek, and you lean in to kiss him.

“I love you, Wooyoung,” you mumble against his lips, feeling the way he moans against yours in response. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

A breathless call of your name escapes him, his voice nothing more than a tender caress against your ears. His eyes flutter shut, absolutely revelling in this moment, right here, right now, with you.

He trails his hands higher.

Parting from him only briefly, you sit back to your full height. In one fluid motion, you remove your shirt, tossing it to the side as you see him staring up at you in awe. You can see him watching your every movement as you waste no time unclasping your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders and tossing it in the same direction as your shirt.

“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes flit everywhere over your exposed torso, a pleased rumble escaping him. “My Angel.”

Teasingly, you run your hands down his chest, nails scratching gently at his skin. You hum. “My handsome King.”

This time, a growl escapes him, his grip tightening as he pulls you in closer. The way you begin to grind yourself over his hard cock has his eyes flashing black. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“I’m all yours, My Queen.” His hips buck up to meet your own, lips tugging upwards in a grin as you gasp. “And you’re mine.”

Your eyes fall closed in bliss. “I’m yours, Sunshine.”

A moan tumbles shamelessly from him, hands trailing up your sides to begin palming at your breasts. The way you keen into his touch, especially when he begins circling your hardening nipples with his thumbs has a warmth flooding his chest.

“Angel,” The way he calls your attention, so softly and full of adoration has you meeting his gaze in an instant. “Please, let me taste you again.”

You blink down at him in mild shock, your lips parting as he continues to squeeze your breasts so tenderly.

“I’ve been dreaming about that gorgeous pussy of yours since the very first time you allowed me the honour of pleasing you.” His confession is somewhat breathless, eyes locking onto the apex of your thighs. “I need to feel you dripping down my chin, drowning me in everything you.”

He does not fail to hear the hitch in your breath, nor the way your thighs tighten ever so slightly around his waist.

“I promise I won’t hold back this time.” Wooyoung briefly darts his gaze upwards to meet your own.

Your hands come up to grasp his wrists, steadying yourself against him as you watch him lick his lips. There’s a certain type desperation written all over his face, jagged pants escaping him the longer that he stares, transfixed, at your clothed core.

“What do you mean by that?” Your inquiry is quite airy, swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat as you look down upon him.

The way his hair fans out around his head only serves to accentuate his features, his dark eyes locking with yours.

“You’ll see.”

Wooyoung can physically feel the way your heart stutters beneath your chest at his response. He knows that you’re curious, and eager, to discover what he has in store for you. It’s written all over your body language, for a shiver is soon to caress your spine as you move off of him briefly.

With hooded eyes, he watches as you stand back to your feet. Wooyoung pushes a few stray strands of his hair back from his forehead, making sure his view is completely unobstructed as he watches you slowly push your jeans down your legs.

The second the material touches the ground, a needy groan is escaping him. The full scent of your arousal begins to permeate the air, making his mouth water. All he knows in this moment is you, that all too familiar burning hunger rising beneath the surface of his skin as he is almost completely consumed by his desires. All he wants to do is please you, to make you drown in ecstasy until you cannot tell where he ends and you begin.

Biting his lip, he watches you slide your panties off before teasingly dropping them directly on top of his face.

The snarl that tears from his throat as he breathes in your unfiltered arousal is unlike anything you’ve ever heard. Almost immediately, his hand is clutching desperately at the material of your panties, nose buried in the material as pleased rumbles escapes his chest. His eyes flutter closed.

“I was going to say ‘save them for later’, but it looks to me as if you’re rather enjoying yourself right now.” You giggle, and Wooyoung swears it’s one of the most melodic sounds he’s ever heard in his entire life.

Pitch black eyes flash open to meet your own.

“I have been longing for another pair ever since I accidentally tore apart the last one.” He admits lowly, taking another deep breath in.

Your eyebrows raise in mild amusement. “You tore them apart?”

Slowly, albeit reluctantly, he lowers his hand that clutches onto your panties to his side. “To be fair, it was an accident.”

The corner of your lips quirks upwards as you sink back onto your knees. The mattress dips as you crawl up his body, stopping just beside his head. You cup his cheek.

“One of these days, I want to see you act out every little desire you’ve ever fantasized about with those panties of mine.” Your sultry tone leaves nothing to the imagination.

A growl escapes him, eyes flashing in agreement as his free hand comes up to grasp your thigh. He meets your gaze.

“You let me know when, Angel, and I’ll show you everything I’ve ever done to myself when fantasizing about you.” He tightens his hold on your thigh, nails biting almost desperately into your skin. “But right now, I want you to sit on my face.”

“You better.” You grin, stroking your thumb over his cheek delicately. “Then, maybe I’ll show you what I’ve fantasized doing with you.”

The snarl he lets out gets partially smothered by you shifting above him. Your thighs encase his head, slowly lowering your glistening core onto his eager and awaiting mouth as he stares up at you with those all too familiar black eyes. He licks his lips.

At the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, you cannot tell who moans louder. Desperately, his fingers dig into the skin of your ass, pulling you flush against him as his eyes close in bliss.

“Fuck, Angel-“ He groans against you. “How are you even sweeter than I remember?”

Without wasting another second, his lips are wrapped around your clit, suckling on that little bud eagerly before his tongue is flicking over it in tandem. Guttural groans escape his chest, bordering on low growls as he soon laves his entire mouth over your dripping entrance. Of course, he takes the time to trace over your lips with the tip of his tongue soon after.

The whole time, he never breaks eye contact with you, holding you close as his nails bite into your skin. Every movement he makes with his tongue is precise, circling over that little bundle of nerves and watching your reactions carefully. Wooyoung is more than eager to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible this evening, slowly building you up in the best of ways until he has you falling apart for him over, and over, and over again.

At one particularly harsh flick of his tongue, your hand immediately seeks purchase in his hair. Your fingers tug at his roots, nails scratching against his scalp as he moans shamelessly into your pussy. The resulting vibrations send a pleasant shiver up your spine, feeling his tongue beginning to dip into your entrance as your juices drip down his chin.

A soft caress against your mind has you opening your void, his white string practically humming in movement.

Best pussy I’ve ever had. A pointed suck is given to your clit, causing you to whine out his name so beautifully. Best pussy I’ll ever have.

Your eyes flutter closed in bliss, stomach twisting from his words.

I’ll never get tired of this. His admission is echoed by a low growl as his tongue circles your entrance once more. Fuck, what a beautiful sight you are, My Queen. Even better knowing that I get to please you like this. I could devour you allday.

A choked moan falls passed your lips as you keen above him.

So fucking wet for me. He hums in approval, eyes briefly closing as he traps your clit between his lips, shaking his head from side to side. All for me.

“All because of you.” Your lips part, breathless pants escaping you as you attempt to ground yourself. “No idea what you do to me."

Wooyoung snarls, tongue eagerly flicking at your clit in response.

“Fuck- yes, My King,” you whine, a blissful smile tugging at your features. “Just like that.”

You feel him smirk against your cunt as he presses himself impossibly closer into you.

Tell me, My Queen, he manages to get you to meet his gaze, and the way you can barely keep your eyes open from the pleasure of it all has his heart swelling with pride. Have you thought about me since that day? Have you thought about the way my lips felt on you? About how good my tongue feels flicking this precious little clit of yours?

“Yes.” The admission is but a whine on your lips, a moan tumbling from you shortly afterwards. “Fuck- I always think about you, Woo.”

This time, it’s his turn to moan.

“You always make me feel so good, Angel.” You drawl out, feeling the way he shudders beneath you in response. “How can I not think of the way your skilled tongue licks this pussy so eagerly?”

Sparing a glance down, you notice his eyes roll into the back of his head as he leans into you even further. Low growls escape him with every breath, his suddenly sharp nails pricking desperately into the skin of your ass as he pulls you even closer.

“You’ve just been waiting to serve Your Queen like this, haven’t you?” You continue, an almost mocking concern to your tone.

A guttural groan escapes him, his answer of confirmation being muffled by your dripping cunt.

“My Sunshine has been so eager to bury his face in His Angel’s cunt again, he tore her precious panties apart out of sheer desperation.” You hum, almost knowingly.

The resounding whine he lets out is all you need to know that what you speak is true. Wooyoung has always been so desperate for you, that he’s never been able to control himself around you. All he’s ever wanted is to please you, to make you fall apart for him as many times as you’ll allow him to, and he’ll never expect anything in return. Seeing you lose yourself to such ecstasy, and knowing that he’s the cause of such delightful bliss you’re succumbing to turns him on like nothing else. He wants to be the reason His Goddess reaches the highest pleasures that she’s ever received. Only he wants to be the cause of your euphoria, and he’ll do everything in his power to make it so.

You’re addictive, Angel. He moans shamelessly into your cunt. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with only a single taste.

Your stomach twists in pleasure, feeling yourself clench around nothing at the sheer honesty behind his words. The desperation alone that you can feel in each of his movements is enough to make your head spin, and you find yourself getting lost in the feeling of it all.

There’s a slight hitch in your breath as you feel him dipping his tongue through your folds, prodding slightly at your entrance as he eagerly laps up every last drop you have to offer him.

Fuck- My Queen- His eyes fall shut, revelling in the feeling of your fingers tugging at his hair. The way you begin to grind your hips against him, meeting his every movement of his tongue over you has his one hand creeping down his own body to palm himself over his briefs. Give me more. I want more.

“Wooyoung-” The gasp of his name is synonymous with the feeling of his tongue slipping through your folds. You can feel his wet muscle probing at your entrance, dipping in and out while sliding deeper inside of you each time. It’s almost as if the further he presses into you, the longer and thicker his tongue gets.

I told you, Angel, his chuckle reverberates beautifully against your folds as he slips his tongue inside of you. The way your eyes roll into the back of your head as the tip begins massaging the inner walls of your cunt has his cock twitching in his hold. This time, I’m not holding back.

“Oh, fuck-“ your thighs begin to shake, and you subconsciously squeeze them tighter around his head.

Not that he really minds…

“Don’t stop! Wooyoung-“ your breath hitches, “fuck, don’t stop!”

You can feel the upturn of his lips against you, his nose affectionately nuzzling against that little bundle of nerves. The whole while, his tongue explores the interior of your cunt. There’s a certain eagerness to his movements, your essence flowing from you shamelessly as he continues to hum against you. Each exhale is but a pleased growl, his chest vibrating with every sound he makes as his tongue rubs up against your walls.

At the way your breath hitches, a high-pitched whine escaping you as he flicks over a specific area inside of you, he snarls. There it is.

All of his attention is now focussed on pressing his tongue against that special spot inside of you. With each movement, he experiments with different patterns, changing the pressure until he finds the ones that have you keening the most. All the while, his nose bumps over your clit, the little jolts of sudden ecstasy causing your whole body to shake as you attempt to control yourself.

Long since have Wooyoung’s eyes bled black, his hand moving over his cock in time with your movements on his tongue. The way you are more than content to grind down against him, seeking out the most intense pleasure that he has to offer you has his stomach twisting, and his cock throbbing in his hold.

That’s it, Angel. He encourages. Lose yourself on my tongue. Succumb to the ecstasy of my touch, and let yourself go.

You can feel yourself clenching around his tongue at his words, barely able to hold yourself upright as nothing but pure bliss courses through your veins. You can tell that you’re close, breathing coming in jagged pants as you tilt your head back, a loud moan of his name falling from your lips.

Just as you shift your head to peer down at him once more, something catches your attention. An image that has your cunt fluttering around him, your stomach clenching pleasantly as your grip tightens in his hair.

Glancing up, Wooyoung takes notice of where your gaze lies. His chest swells in pride, unable to prevent the snarl that tears from his throat as he redoubles his efforts over your weeping cunt.

Gorgeous, aren’t you, My Queen? His voice resounding in your head makes you whimper above him. Keep watching yourself. See how beautiful you are as you fall apart on my tongue. How beautiful you’ve always been.

“Wooyoung, I-“ your voice catches in your throat, that all too familiar coil close to snapping.

Come for me, My Queen. A low growl greets your ears. Fucking flood me in you.

A loud cry of his name flies passed your lips as you toss your head back in ecstasy. Your entire body trembles as the wave of your orgasm crashes into you, eyes squeezing shut as you cling onto him for dear life. Spots dance behind your vision and your head spins, feeling as if your whole being is floating as your chest heaves with every breath you take.

Languidly, you feel his tongue moving inside of you. The tip gently caresses your walls, and you can just tell from the way he’s snarling beneath you that you’re positively dripping onto his chin right now.

His nose brushes against your clit, and your whole body jolts. An involuntary whine escapes you, lips parted as you practically collapse forwards. Luckily, you manage to catch yourself just in time with your arms, even if they feel like they might give out at any moment.

Slowly, Wooyoung retracts his tongue, lapping gently at your folds as his one hand moves to help support you. The way your arms give out beneath you has him smiling wide, holding you steady as he pulls you down to rest beside him on the mattress.

He licks his lips, chin shining with your essence as he giggles at your somewhat dazed expression.

“You did so well for me, Angel.” He places a chaste kiss to your lips, stroking a hand over your back tenderly. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”

“Shouldn’t-“ you clear your throat, voice hoarse from overuse, “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

The smile that tugs at his features lights up the entire room, even more so than the candles.

“I’m simply glad that I could serve you.” He leans in to rest his forehead against your own, nuzzling you affectionately as he pulls you closer.

Softly, your hand runs down his chest, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. The way you caress him now just as you did that one morning last week has his eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

“Let me serve you.” Your words are but a mere drawl on your lips as you lower your hand even further.

Only, the prominent wet patch you feel against the palm of your hand says it all.

“Don’t even worry, Angel.” Wooyoung hums, wrapping his arm loosely around your waist. “I already told you that bringing you pleasure pleases me more than you’ll ever know. I’m just sorry I’ve already came twice, and you’ve only come once.”

“Believe me,” you eyes widen slightly, as if to truly emphasize your words. “That one time has already been more than enough. You seriously all have incredible stamina. I’m just happy to know I could have such an effect on you. Knowing I can essentially make you come without so much as actually touching you is incredibly confidence boosting. Not to mention extremely hot.”

“You have no idea.” Wooyoung grins, his chest rumbling with happiness. “Besides, seeing you fall apart like that for me- because of me, is reward enough.”

The corners of your lips pull upwards softly, your heart warming as you hum in content. “Since when could you do that with your tongue?”

“Since forever.” He chuckles fondly. “Shifter, remember?”

“Fuck, I love you.” Your eyes shine with nothing but adoration as you meet his gaze.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest. “And I love you, My Queen.”

Gently, your thumb comes up to wipe some of your essence from his chin.

“Ah,” he practically tuts at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “I got it.”

Not even a moment later, his tongue creeps out of his mouth, languidly running over his chin as the muscle slithers against his skin.

Your breath hitches in your throat, watching every movement he makes with dark eyes. The fact that his tongue was just inside of you only makes this moment that much more intense, your stomach clenching pleasantly in response.

“Should I start calling you Venom?” You smirk, a sudden playful gleam flashing within your gaze.

His teeth suddenly look much too sharp as his lips pull back in a wide grin.

“I suppose it would be very fitting,” you hum, brushing a hand over the side of his face and pushing some of his hair behind his ear.

“Well, poisons are my specialty.” He leans forward to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Definitely also has nothing to do with the fact that I’m also a monster fucker.” You add casually.

Wooyoung’s eyes go wide as if you’ve just revealed the greatest piece of information to him that he’s ever heard.

“I knew it!” The grin he wears is nothing short of triumphant, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he begins giggling like a maniac.

“I don’t necessarily hide it, Sunshine.” You chuckle, lifting a finger to boop his nose affectionately.

“Now that you mention it, you do talk about fucking dragons and vampires quite often.” He hums in acknowledgement.

“You’re telling me that vampires are real?” Your eyes go wide in excitement, your whole body practically beginning to vibrate in his hold.

His lips purse dramatically as a frown pulls at his features.

“Kidding!” You nuzzle your head against his own, that playful gleam back in your eyes. “It’s still so easy to rile you up.”

“I can’t help it, Beautiful.” He sighs, almost wistfully. “When you have a Goddess laying before you whom you love more than anything that jokes about this kind of stuff… well, I’m sure you’d feel the same.”

“Wooyoung, you know that I’m serious when I say that I’m in love with you, and that you’re mine and I’m yours, right?” You look at him expectantly.

A moment of silence passes between you where he simply just stares at you. His eyes shine with nothing but tender love and awe, his heart absolutely thundering within his chest from your words.

A blink, and he’s shifted your positions so that he hovers over you while you rest beneath him. He meets your gaze, strands of his red hair falling over his forehead and framing his face beautifully.

“Say it again.” His plea is desperate, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly.

“Which?” You quirk a brow teasingly. “That I’m in love with you, or that you’re mine and I’m yours?”

“Yes.” A low groan escapes him as his head falls forward, forehead pressing against your own as his eyes slip closed. “Both.”

“I am in love with you, Wooyoung.” There is no hesitation in your voice as you reply, watching as he blinks his eyes open only to stare deeply into your own in the next second. “You are mine, and I am yours.”

His lips are on your own as soon as the final syllable escapes you, grinding his hips lightly into your own.

A soft gasp falls from you, and Wooyoung takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Gently, he kisses you, pouring all that he is into the movement of his lips against your own. Right now, he’s not concerned about anything other than showing you how deep his love is for you in any and every way that he can.

Right now, it’s exactly as you say: you are his, and he is yours. Nothing will ever change that fact, and as you lay beneath him, in the comfort of his dance studio, you both know this to be unquestionably true.

You love each other, and nothing, no one, will ever change that. You love each other, and you always will.

Tracing his hands up your sides, Wooyoung feels a shiver caress your spine. Long since have your panties been tossed aside, allowing for his fingers to freely roam the expanse of your bare skin without impeding his touch. He simply revels in you: your every sound, your every reaction, loving how your scent intoxicates him the longer that the two of you spend together. The fact that you’re starting to smell like him, and him like you is simply the cherry on top.

Your hands on his back pull him in closer as he continues to slowly grind himself into you. With each movement, you can feel his cock becoming harder once more, your heart racing at the very fact that it is you that is doing this to him.

“Woo,” the gentle call of his name from you against his lips has his cock twitching against your core.

He pulls away to stare into your eyes, but not before nipping lightly at your jawline. “Yes, My Queen?”

“Don’t you want me to touch you?” The question you pose is so innocent falling from your lips, blinking up at him with those loving eyes of yours.

“You are touching me, Beautiful.” He chuckles, placing a brief kiss against the skin of your lips.

“That’s not what I meant.” A slight frown tugs at your brow.

“Angel, I’ve already told you,” he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, placing another kiss over your racing pulse. “There is no greater pleasure for me than pleasing you. I want to take my time, drowning you in an ecstasy that only I can provide for you. Right now, I want to focus solely on your pleasure. That is my greatest desire: pleasing you in every and any way I know how, and sharing in this intimacy with you as I make you come over, and over, and over again for me and me alone. You know that I will never expect anything in return.”

Your gaze softens, “Wooyoung-“

“Do you know how many times I’ve come untouched just to the mere thought of you?” His voice is but a low rumble right by your ear. “Simply the thought of being able to bring you uninterrupted pleasure, My Queen, pleases me more than you’ll ever know. I want you to use me in any and every way that you know how until you are satisfied. I want to serve you, and watch as you fall apart for me over, and over, and over again using my fingers, my tongue, my cock.”

A desperate shudder caresses your spine, your breath hitching in your throat.

He smirks.

“My body was made to please you, Angel.” Lightly, he nips at the skin of your neck, just below your ear. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

Your throat bobs as you swallow, lips parting as you stare up at him with nothing but a deep love and admiration in your eyes. Your entire being warms, heart swelling in your chest at how earnestly he speaks his words to you. There is no insincerity that you can hear within his voice, no false pretences or double meanings behind his words. All you do know, is that what he speaks is true, and you’ve already begun to experience it first hand.

A tender smile pulls at your features, your one hand reaching up to brush his hair back from his face yet again this evening. Softly, you shift to cup his face so tenderly in your palm, loving how he instantly leans into your touch.

“You are in control here, Angel.” He turns his head to nuzzle deeper against your hand. “You are always in control.”

“Alright.” You breathe out, eyes fluttering closed as you bask in this moment with him. “Then, let me make the sweetest love to My King.”

The smile that stretches across his face says it all. “I would love nothing more.”

Shifting over the mattress, Wooyoung helps you flip your positions. Quickly, he shimmies out of his underwear, allowing you to settle over top of him. His hands instantly find purchase on your waist, such a tender fondness shining within his eyes as he gazes upon you. It’s as if he’s truly looking upon a Goddess as he takes in your every feature above him, nothing but the deepest, sincerest form of love and trust swirling within his gaze. There you appear to him in all of your glory, and like hell will he ever forget this moment. No, this day will live in his memories forevermore. Until the very end of time.

Settling your core above his cock, you teasingly grind down onto him. The way he can feel your wetness dripping onto his skin makes him moan, eyes nearly falling shut in bliss. Only, he swears to keep his gaze fixated on you at all times. Never does he want to miss a single moment of intimacy with you, selfishly wanting your every reaction for his eyes only.

“Are you okay, Sunshine?” Your gentle inquiry is but a soft caress against his ears.

“Never better.” He admits breathlessly, hands squeezing your sides lovingly. “Are you okay?”

The fact that he repeats your own question back to you warms your entire being, soul coming alight as you nod your head. Even though your confirmation is but a whisper on your lips, he still hears you loud and clear.

Not even a moment later, you’re reaching down between your two bodies and taking his cock into your one hand. Pumping him a few times, you teasingly run your thumb over his tip, spreading the precome that leaks out over his head.

A low moan from Wooyoung is all your receive in response, feeling him twitch in your hand.

Without breaking eye contact, you line him up with your entrance. Slowly, you drag his tip through your folds, gathering the wetness there and watching as his gaze darts down to where your bodies are soon to be intertwined.

You begin to sink down onto his cock.

A pleasant hum escapes you as you feel him beginning to stretch you out. Of course, you take your time, adjusting to him as you lower your hips to meet his own.

The whole while, Wooyoung watches as his cock disappears into your wet warmth, stomach clenching as he feels your walls beginning to squeeze him so delicately. Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your cunt sucking him in, his head spinning as that familiar darkness swirls within his gaze.

Low groans escape him with every breath, bordering on growls as you finally sink down fully on his cock. He adores the feeling of your hips pressing against his, your hands coming to settle on his chest as you steady yourself, nails digging into his skin.

Your breathing comes in jagged pants, core still so sensitive from the single orgasm he’s already given you this evening. Even you can feel yourself dripping onto his skin, his cock twitching inside of you and making you moan.

“So good, Angel.” He pants, fingers digging into your skin as he attempts to ground himself. “Feels so, so good.”

“Yeah?” Your response is breathless, chest rising and falling dramatically as you attempt to control yourself.

Involuntarily, you clench around him and moans are escaping the both of you.

“Fuck- long since have I dreamt of this day.” He admits, tossing his head back in bliss. “Better than anything I could have imagined.”

Your heart positively flutters at his words, especially given the implications behind them.

You lips part with unspoken words, but luckily for you, he seems to already know just what you want to say.

“Yes, I’ve always thought about what our first time together would be like.” He hums, thumbs stroking tenderly against your sides. “I don’t think my fantasies could ever top this.”

“Wooyoung,” your expression softens, heart swelling inside of your chest.

“You make me so unbelievably happy, Angel.” He tells you, keeping his voice low as if sharing the most intimate of secrets with you. Right now, he is. “With all that I am, I am so in love with you. I would do anything, give anything just to see you smile. I will never forget what you mean to me. I don’t think I ever could, even if I tried. You mean too much to me. Besides, you are the only one I will ever want. You are the only one I will ever need. For me, there will never be anyone else. Only you.”

Shifting slightly, you lean over him. Bringing your hands up, you cup his face in your palms, staring deeply into his eyes as you being to grind your hips against his own.

“My Wooyoung,” a moan escapes him at your words, “I am deeply in love with you. Not a day passes where I don’t count myself lucky to have you in my life. You have shown me a love, a devotion I never thought was possible for someone like me. I will never forget that, nor what you mean to me. I am grateful to have someone like you to make me laugh, to make me smile,” your expression echoes your words, “To make me feel loved. Truly, you light up my life, Sunshine.”

“My Queen.” Tears line the corners of his eyes, your words washing over his very soul and setting his whole body alight with an ecstasy he has never felt before in his life.

“I am yours, Wooyoung.” Your words have the first of his tears falling freely down his cheek. “And you are mine.”

“I’m yours, and you’re mine.” He repeats, wrapping his arms around your body and holding you tightly to his chest.

Gently, Wooyoung begins to help guide your movements over him. Every rise and fall of your warmth over his cock causes low moans to escape the both of you, each revelling in the intimacy this moment brings you. You feel connected to each other, in more than one way, basking in each other’s tender embrace.

At hearing the way your breath hitches after he shifts his hips slightly, Wooyoung smiles. His lips trail the softest of kisses along your neck, feeling the way your pulse races alongside his own. Long since have your hearts begun to beat as one, and neither of you would have it any other way.

The way you so eagerly move above him makes Wooyoung’s head spin. Desperately, he clings to you, moans bordering on growls the longer he feels your warmth squeezing him so sinfully.

“That’s it, My Queen. Claim what’s always been yours.” Wooyoung’s breathless voice reaches your ears and he feels you clench around him. His lips part, a low groan escaping him. “From the very first moment I saw you, I’ve been yours. You own every piece of me: mind, body, and soul.”

Again, the way your walls clench around him has moans falling from both of your lips this time.

“Wooyoung,” The sigh of his own name from your lips is just as breathless, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. “My King.” A pleased hum escapes you, feeling him twitch inside of you as you continue to grind your hips down against his own. “So good to me.”

He moans unabashedly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip tightens around you.

“Please, My Queen,” his words are but a mere sigh as his chest heaves with every pant. His gaze shines with nothing but pure love and dedication as he meets your own. “Kiss me.”

Your lips are on his without another thought, continuing to lean over him as your walls squeeze his cock so sinfully.

His hands pull you closer, nails shamelessly digging into your flesh. His hold is desperate, small whimpers escaping him as his brow furrows. Parting from you briefly, he absolutely adores the way you immediately come to rest your forehead against his own.

“My Angel.” His voice is airy as he whines out his beloved name for you. Eagerly, he grinds his hips up into you, meeting your every movement in tandem as you sigh his name so tenderly.

“My Beauty.” The breaths that escape him begin to boarder on low growls, chest rumbling with each exhale that he makes.

“My Queen.” This time, there’s no denying the pleased snarl that escapes him, his eyes flashing black as he takes in the wondrous sight that is you above him once more. Ever so slightly, his grip tightens around your body, pulling you flush against his chest. “Mine.”

You cannot help the way your walls involuntarily clench around him from his words.

“Yours, Wooyoung.” The blissful sigh that falls from your lips is music to his very ears. “And you’re mine.”

“Fuck-“ a desperate shudder wracks his entire body as his eyes fall shut in pleasure, a euphoric feeling unlike ever before flooding his veins as your words wash over him. “All yours, Angel. All fucking yours.”

Carefully, you push yourself back to your full height, hands supporting yourself on his chest as you continue to move above him. The way he brings a hand down to begin circling your clit with his thumb has a whimper escaping you. Your eyes fall shut, feeling that all too familiar tightening in your lower abdomen as you completely surrender yourself to the pleasure.

“Feels so fucking good, My King.” You breathe out.

“Yeah?” You fail to see the way the corner of his lips quirk deviously. “I know what will make it feel even better.”

This catches your attention, cracking your eyes open to stare down at him with all of the energy you can muster for the moment.

“Would My Angel like to know what a true monster cock feels like buried within her tight little pussy?” His gaze is sharp, calculated in the way he watches your every reaction carefully.

You find that you can’t even form words, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you absolutely keen above him. The desperate whine that escapes your lips says it all.

Every movement of your comes to a halt as you feel his cock slowly beginning to shift inside you. You can feel him expanding, his girth beginning to stretch you out in completely new ways as bumps and ridges begin to press against your inner walls.

The grin Wooyoung wears is deadly, keeping his thumb firmly pressed against your clit the whole time. Purposely, he shifts his cock to fit the contours of your pussy, pushing against your most sensitive spots as he fills your tight little hole unlike ever before.

High pitched moans falls from your lips as you attempt to support yourself above him with your hands on his chest. Your breathing deepens, feeling yourself clenching rhythmically around him as every new ridge on his cock presses deeply inside of you.

“Dragons cocks are quite unique,” he drawls out, his thumb pressing over your clit moving in the slightest of circles over you. “Every one is different, and this one is made just for you.”

With a loud cry of his name, you’re collapsing on top of him. The sudden, overwhelming feeling of your orgasm crashes into you without warning, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as tears of overstimulation line your eyes. Every shift of his hips, you feel his cock and all those special ridges brushing up inside you. Still, his thumb has yet to leave your clit.

Focussing back in on your surroundings, you register faint, pleased growls echoing lowly in your ears. Wooyoung’s chest rumbles in delight beneath you, his arms wrapping securely around your waist as he finally removes his thumb from over your clit. Slowly, you can feel his cock shifting back to its regular size inside of you.

Nothing but small whimpers and whines escape you, the only word able to form on your lips is his name. A fact of which has his chest swelling with an insurmountable amount of pride as he strokes a hand tenderly over your back.

“That’s it, Angel.” He coos softly. “I’m right here. You did so well for me. I’m so proud of you.”

Jagged pants escape you with every breath, eyes somewhat glazed over. Your mind is in a haze as you come down from your high, clinging onto him for dear life in attempts to ground yourself back to reality.

A few more minutes pass by with him cooing sweet nothings in your ear, his cock remaining buried deep within your dripping pussy. Even he knows that that was a lot for you, and he doesn’t want to make you any more sensitive right now than you already are.

“Good girl,” his voice is but a gentle caress, mirroring the way he holds you close. “My Beautiful Queen.”

Finally, you’re able to catch your breath.

“That was-“ you search for the right word, noticing how Wooyoung holds his breath in anticipation. “That was intense.”

“I’m sorry, Angel. I probably should have waited-“

“I fucking loved that.” You manage to shift your head in order to meet his gaze. “Don’t you dare apologize, Woo.”

A low, pleased growl reaches your ears. “You did?”

“Absolutely.” You collapse back on top of him. “I’m only sorry you haven’t gotten a chance to finish yet.”

“I am more than content to simply lay here like this with you.” He replies, quite earnestly at that. A fact which makes your heart swell with warmth in your chest. “I don’t need to finish.”

“Huh, that’s too bad, then.” Your brow furrows slightly, nuzzling against his chest affectionately. “I was rather enjoying this all.”

“Do you-“ he swallows thickly. “Do you not want it to end, yet?”

You take a moment to consider his words, but at the devious smirk that pulls at your lips, he knows you’re only holding him in suspension to tease him.

“No.” You hum. “I don’t.”

The pleased rumble that shakes his chest says it all.

“Then, what would you have me do?” Wooyoung is much too eager as he says this, eyes shining with an excited gleam.

Your gaze trails back upwards to meet his own, drifting passed him in the next second as your eyes land on the mirrors behind him. You clench around him.

“Uh…“ you trail off, blinking a few times to clear your head.

His brow quirks. “I know that look.”

“What look?” You turn back to him.

“The look that says you’re thinking of something, but you’re unsure if you should actually express your desires or not.” He smiles, somewhat knowingly at you.

“It’s a bit of a selfish request.” You admit.

“Angel, nothing is a selfish request when you’re with me.” His hand lovingly caresses over your spine.

You inhale sharply, blinking as if you’re still attempting to make up your mind for the moment. Then, your whole body is heating as you avoid his eyes, swallowing thickly.

“I’ve always wanted to be taken against a wall.” You admit lowly, shifting your gaze up to meet his own once more. “I want you to take me against the mirrors, Wooyoung, and I want you to have your true wings out when you do so.”

This time, it’s his turn to inhale sharply.

“Only if you’re comfortable with that, of course-“

The words have hardly finished leaving your lips when you find yourself pinned against the mirrors. The glass is cool against your back, causing a shiver to caress your spine as Wooyoung presses himself into you. Your legs are hooked over his arms, the back of your knees settling in the crooks of his elbows as he holds you effortlessly against the one panel. His breathing is heavy, head tilted forwards as he now avoids your gaze for the time being.

“You want to see my wings?” His voice is a mere whisper, yet you can still hear the heavy emotion behind his every word.

Even he cannot deny the way your walls clench around his cock still buried inside of you from his words.

“More than anything.” You breathe out. “Please, Wooyoung. Won’t you show me?”

You watch as he slowly lifts his head to meet your gaze. His eyes shine with something you don’t quite understand, but from the way that he presses into you closer, you think you actually do.

Finally, he has found the one person he can be the most vulnerable with. From dancing, to his true form, he will give his all to you. Every part of him is yours, and he will gladly put himself on display in any and every way imaginable just to see you happy.

In the flickering light of the candles, two great, bat-like wings begin to emerge from his back. They are a dark brown, the thin, leathery membrane between each bone almost appearing mahogany in colour as he stretches them outwards in the air. Faintly, you can see dark veins criss-crossing through the semi-transparent membrane binding each section of his wings together. A few faded scars litter his skin. On the top of each of the main joints where his wings bend rests a claw-like protrusion, slightly curved and tapering off into a sharp point.

There is no hiding your awe filled expression as he shakes out his wings lightly behind him. The fact that you continue to stare, completely transfixed at them with nothing but adoration and excitement shining within your gaze sets his heart racing within his chest.

“Wooyoung,” you shift your gaze back to his own, and you briefly see a hint of nervousness flash across his features. “They’re beautiful.” Your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders this whole time, move to tenderly cup his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Angel,” he swallows his building emotions, tears beginning to well in his eyes for the nth time today.

“Can I-“ your fingers twitch as you do whatever you can to prevent yourself from reaching out towards them for the moment. “May I touch them?”

You swear he stops breathing.

He blinks away his tears, nodding vigorously in the next second. “You may.”

The instant the confirmation slips past his lips, you’re lifting your hands towards his wings. Your touch is nothing but delicate, gently tracing the natural curve as he flares them out for you to have easier access.

A shudder caresses his entire body, and you’re quick to retract your hand.

“I’m sorry.” Your brow furrows in worry. “Did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Oh. Oh.” A melodic giggle escapes your lips as you grin. “Should I continue, then?”

“Please do.” He nearly begs, his response a mere breathless whisper.

You do not need to be told twice.

Another shudder wracks his entire body the instant your fingers return to brushing along the curve of his one wing. Delicately, you dance feather like touches over the top, soon beginning to trace over a prominent vein you can see within the membrane.

Lowly, Wooyoung moans.

Sparing a glance at his face you notice his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in what appears to be concentration. A moment later, you find out why.

The closer your touch becomes to where his wings protrude from his back, the deeper his breathing gets. As soon as you start to gently massage the membrane attached to his shoulder blades, he moans. The instant your fingers make contact with the skin of his back, right between where his wings protrude, his cock twitches deep inside of you.

“Angel,” his head falls forward, forehead resting against the skin of your bare shoulder as he attempts to control himself for the time being.

Shifting slightly, you allow yourself to get a better angle to reach his back. Your one hand massages over the spot right between his wings while the other gently traces over the contours of cartilage and bone. Every twitch of his wings, you take note of, focussing on the movements which have him moaning the loudest, and cock throbbing inside of you.

“So pretty, Wooyoung.” You hum, nuzzling against the side of his head and placing a lingering kiss to his skin. “I absolutely adore your wings. They’re so smooth.” You emphasize your words with a finger tracing delicately against that leathery membrane. “And strong.”

Another low groan escapes him, his breathing coming in ragged pants.

“Don’t stop.” He chokes out, hips beginning to grind into yours with shallow thrusts. “Please, My Queen,” he gasps, holding you tighter, “Don’t fucking stop.”

“I didn’t know you could get even more attractive, Sunshine.” Another kiss is placed against the side of his head as you continue to massage his wings so tenderly. “Have I ever mentioned how I love men with wings?”

“Must have slipped your mind.” He groans out, wings twitching once more.

“Well, I do.” You say, your words but a low drawl on your lips. “I find them incredibly sexy, especially when I know how sensitive they can be.”

A low moan of your name falls from him in response.

“So fucking beautiful,” you nip at his ear, increasing the pressure of you one hand massaging between his shoulder blades ever so slightly. “So incredibly sexy.”

“Oh, fuck- you’re gonna make me-“ A sharp hiss escapes him as his legs begin to shake. “I’m gonna-“

“Come for me, My King.”

A guttural growl escapes him, teeth latching onto the skin of your shoulder as he feels his orgasm washing over him. His cock throbs as he releases deep inside of you, pressing you firmly against the mirror as his eyes flash black and his wings flare out behind him.

Wooyoung’s entire body shakes, whimpers and whines soon tumbling from his lips as his chest heaves with every breath. His hands dig harshly into the skin of your waist, brow furrowed as he revels in the aftermath of his high.

Never has he ever allowed himself to be so vulnerable with any other lover. However, because it’s you, he finds that he can let himself just be, succumbing to his deepest desires and letting himself be loved in a way that he wants to be loved only by you.

Slowly, he detaches his teeth from your skin, placing tender kisses over the indents he’s left behind. At least he didn’t pierce your flesh. Though, from the way you shudder pleasantly from the feeling, he doesn’t think you would have minded at all.

“My Angel,” he whimpers, grinding himself into you as he holds you flush against his body. “My Perfect Queen.”

Purposely, he extends his wings out behind him, bringing them down in one powerful swoop as he steadies himself on his feet. Again, he grinds himself into you, already feeling the way your combined fluids begin to drip out of your tight little hole and onto his thighs as he holds you close.

“Wooyoung, you-“

“Shhh,” he coos at you, nipping at the shell of your ear as he attempts to get his breathing back under control. “My Queen desires for me to take her against the mirrors of my studio, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

Another shallow thrust is given to you, your body moving in time with him as he adjusts your position slightly. He makes sure to lift you slightly off of the mirror for the moment, ensuring your back isn’t sticking to the glass due to your sweat. Once he’s confirmed you’re fine, another thrust is given, much sharper than the last one.

Flaring his wings out behind him, Wooyoung repeats the same action from only seconds before, this time using his momentum to sharply thrust into you as he does so.

A choked moan escapes you in surprise, thighs tensing against his arms in response to his movements. Of course, Wooyoung is quick to pick up on such a reaction, the corner of his lips quirking upwards as his eyes darken.

“Look at you,” Another sharp thrust aided by the tremendous beat of his wings. “You’re fucking mesmerizing, My Queen.”

Your lips part, hands seeking purchase on his shoulders as he slowly begins to increase the frequency of those sharp thrusts of his.

“Feels so fucking good around me, I don’t think I could ever get enough of this pussy.” He moans, eyes falling shut in bliss. “Just listen to how wet I’ve made you.”

As if to emphasize his point, he gives a pointed thrust, the wet squelch of his cock sinking into your dripping cunt resounding through your ears.

“Fuck, you’ve made me so sensitive.” He inhales sharply, whole body shaking as his hips snap into yours once more. You meet his gaze and you watch as his eyes flash dangerously. “I love it.”

Adjusting his grip on your body, he holds you tighter, beginning a brutal pace as he makes you bounce on his cock.

“I want to make you cream all over my cock again.” He growls. “I want to feel you squeezing around me so delicately again.”

A choked gasp escapes you as your sensitive walls flutter around his hardening cock. Already, you can feel the telltale signs of overstimulation creeping in again, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.

“I want to hear you fucking scream my name as I make you come for me.” His voice boarders on an animalistic snarl. “I want to fulfill all of your darkest fantasies, and then I want to drown you in an ecstasy you never thought was possible.”

“My-“ your breath hitches as you whine quite loudly, “King-“

“That’s fucking right, Angel.” His voice is the deepest you’ve ever heard it go. “I’m Your fucking King, and you are My fucking Goddess.”

Your lips part, but all that escapes you are whines and whimpers right now. Each snarl you hear him let out goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clenching around him almost rhythmically.

“You’re so fucking perfect, My Goddess.” Long since have his eyes bled black, his nails once again sharpening into claws as they prick into the skin of your ass. “Like you were made just for me.”

“Yours.” A single coherent thought escapes you, only serving to fuel his every movement even further.

“That’s right, My Queen.” He nips at the skin of your neck. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

You pull him in closer to you with whatever remaining strength you have. “Mine.”

A guttural groan escapes him, loud and shameless. You can tell from the way snarls continuously fall from his lips that he’s faring no better than you are, desperately doing whatever he can to bring you the utmost pleasure for the moment despite the intense overstimulation he feels.

“Come on, My Queen.” He pants out, biting and sucking at the skin of your exposed neck. “Come for me. Come for Your King.”

Briefly, his eyes flit downwards.

“Rub your clit for me, Angel, and come all over this cock.” He licks his lips. “I need to see you fall apart for me again.”

Shakily, you shift your one hand down between your two bodies, fingers trembling as you barely brush them over your clit.

A desperate whine of his name escapes you, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you at any second.

“It’s okay, My Angel.” He coos softly into your ear, nipping at it in the next second. “I’ve got you. Make yourself feel good, and then let yourself go.”

The sound of his heavy breathing is encouragement enough, for you can tell that he won’t last too much longer. Still, he waits for you. He needs to see you fall apart again before he can so much as allow himself to find release.

Always, your pleasure comes before his own.

Pressing your fingers back to your clit, your entire body shudders. Your movements are a bit sloppy, seeking that last bit of friction to help push yourself over the edge. The wet sounds of skin on skin only serve to make this moment that much more intense, and with one final flick of your wrist, you’re vision is going white as your orgasm washes over you.

A scream of his name tears from your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your whole body shudders in his hold. Not even a moment later, he stills inside of you, wings flaring as hot spurts of his come paint the inside of your walls for the second time this evening.

Sloppily, he thrusts a few more times into you, hearing you whine from the sensation. A second later, you feel yourself being pulled down onto a soft mattress. Your legs are no longer held in his arms, Wooyoung opting to wrap them firmly around his waist instead. Tenderly, he places kisses over your face, grounding you as you come down from your high.

“You did so well for me, Angel.” He hums, hand stroking lovingly over your spine. “I’m so proud of you.”

You blink up at him, still in a post-orgasmic haze. The smile you send him is tender, albeit lazy as you rest against his chest for the time being. Softly, you can hear him mumbling praises to you, his hand tracing all over your body from the top of your head to the bottom of your spine.

For a solid five minutes, you lay like this in his arms, simply basking in the afterglow. That is, until he’s breaking the silence.

“Are you okay, Angel?” His voice is a tender caress, making sure to keep his tone just above a whisper so as not to overwhelm you.

You hum, nodding your head almost absentmindedly in response.

“Just tired.” You mumble, blinking lethargically up at him.

“I’m sorry, Gorgeous. I think I might have been too intense-“

Frantically, you begin shaking your head in denial.

“It was perfect, Woo.” You find enough strength to lift your head and place a kiss onto his jawline. “I really enjoyed that. I just… don’t have the same stamina that you all have yet.”

“No,” he chuckles, placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I suppose not.”

Carefully, you allow your head to fall back onto his chest.

“Come on, Gorgeous,” he lifts you easily back into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

A blink, and you find yourself in another extravagant bathroom, unfamiliar to you, but one that you’re sure belongs to the male who sits you gently on the side of the large tub. A few minutes later, and after he ensures you drink two full glasses of water with a third on its way, the two of you are relaxing into the warmth of a bath. Wooyoung’s arms are around your waist as he holds you to his chest, your heartbeats syncing as one.

A content sigh escapes your lips, allowing your eyelids to flutter closed. You absolutely revel in his moment, adoring the way Wooyoung gently begins massaging your shoulders.

“Shouldn’t I be doing this for you?” You hum, tilting your head slightly to the side to give him better access to your neck.

“You technically already have. Besides, I wanted to do this for you.” Comes his reply, his fingers tenderly rubbing at all of the knots he can find and working them out of your muscles. “Just let me take care of you.”

You hum contently. “Okay.”

Half an hour later, you find yourself wrapped up in his bed, his blankets draped precariously over the both of you. One of his arms rests over your hip, while you curl yourself into his embrace while facing one another.

Blinking up at Wooyoung, you cup his face gingerly in your one hand.

“Are you okay, Sunshine?”

The loving smile that pulls at his features is answer enough.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life.” He admits.

“Oh, you’re just saying that.” A heat blossoms on your cheeks as you smack his chest playfully.

“I just made love with the most beautiful girl in the world.” His eyes shine with the sincerity of his honeyed words. “A beautiful Goddess who loves me, just as I love her.”

Your expression softens, heart swelling inside of your chest as you look at him. You hold nothing but fond affection for him in your gaze, fingers coming up to brush some of his stray strands of hair behind his ear.

“I do.” You confirm with a gentle nod. “I do love you, Woo.”

“And I love you,” he leans forward to peck your lips. “My Goddess.”

The vibrant smile that stretches across your features sets his heart racing inside of his chest. There is nothing that could take this moment away from the both of you right now, happy to bask in each other’s presence for the evening as you lay in his bed.

For about ten minutes, nothing more is said between the two of you. You’ve even shifted your positions slightly. Now, you lay on your back while Wooyoung curls into you. His head rests on your chest, listening to the comforting sound of your heart beating alongside his own. Tenderly, the thumb of his right hand rubs over your skin beneath your shirt as your fingers thread themselves through his hair.

“I would have said ‘yes’, you know.” The soft whisper of his voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts for the moment. At the way you look down at him in confusion, hand pausing in his hair, he’s quick to continue, “That day at the mall. Even if you didn’t call in that favour from our bet, I would have told you to go have fun with your friend.”

You blink at him mildly in shock.

“Even knowing what you know now?” There’s no malice in your voice as you ask him this, only a genuine curiosity held there as you resume combing your fingers through his hair.

“Even knowing what I know now.” He confirms with a soft hum. He curls into you deeper. “I just thought you should know.”

You smile faintly, heart warming as you watch his eyes slowly close.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“I wanted to tell you ever since that day.” He replies honestly. “I just- I guess it was simply just never the right time.”

“You’re telling me now.” Comes your gentle response.

He hums, perfectly content to continue resting here with you in your loving embrace.

It is then when he gets an idea.

Wooyoung can hear your soft intake of breath as he makes his wings appear once more. Carefully, and with the greatest of ease, he wraps them around the both of you, blanketing you in both his protection and his warmth.

“I love you, My Angel.” Tenderly, he nuzzles against you, his voice but a mere whisper on the air.

“I love you, My Sunshine.” Your reply is equally tender, keeping your tone just as soft as his own.

Closing your eyes, you let out a content breath, fully relaxing into this moment with Wooyoung held in your arms.

That night, you fall asleep to the comforting sound of his heartbeat, and the brush of smooth wings surrounding you in a tender, loving embrace.

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the-writerwoman · 2 months ago

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Sorry for the delay. Been busy with my kids so I didn’t have time. Plus I’m also editing the next chapter for Heartstrings across the hallway. And I got that 6pm brainrot which also wants to come out.

But yeah I was reading a Batman fic about Jason being stuck in a time loop and he falls in love with Tim and it was good and it made me think of our boys. And I wanted it Origins Poolverine so here we are!

Hope you enjoy!

Wade leaned against the wall outside Logan’s room, his fingers fidgeting at his side. He could hear the steady rhythm of Logan’s footsteps inside, the scrape of boots against the floorboards, the same familiar noises he had heard for thirty-six straight mornings. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.

The door creaked open, and there Logan stood, his hair tousled, his usual look of grumpy determination plastered across his face.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Wade greeted, his tone casual but with a tremor of anticipation beneath the surface.

Logan gave him a once-over, his eyebrows knitting together in suspicion. “What’s with you? You look… weird.”

Wade let out a nervous laugh. “Weird? Me? Nah, I’m as fresh as a daisy, as sharp as a tack, as…” He trailed off under Logan’s skeptical glare. “Okay, fine, I need to talk to you. Like, actually talk. And before you say anything, I need you to hear me out without calling me crazy. Deal?”

Logan’s frown deepened, and he crossed his arms. “Wilson…”

“Just say ‘deal,’ Logan. Humor me, for once.” Wade’s voice wavered, betraying his desperation.

Logan sighed heavily, his patience already worn thin. “Fine. Deal. But this better be good.”

They sat across from each other at a corner table in the mess hall, Wade fidgeting with a napkin while Logan ate in silence. The room was empty except for them, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound besides the occasional clink of Logan’s fork against his plate.

Wade took a deep breath. “Alright, here it is. I’m stuck in a time loop.”

Logan didn’t even look up. “A what?”

“A time loop,” Wade repeated, leaning forward. “I wake up at 5 a.m. every morning, and it’s the same day. Same breakfast, same mission briefing, same damn everything. And no matter what I do, it all resets at the end of the day.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, finally meeting Wade’s gaze. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

Logan stared at him for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he smirked faintly, his disbelief clear. “You’ve officially lost it.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Wade said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Which is why I came prepared this time.”

“Oh, this I gotta hear.” Logan leaned back in his chair.

Wade leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Six loops ago, you told me something. Something you said no one else knows. Something personal to you, that you said it’d prove I wasn’t full of crap if I ever brought it up.”

Logan’s expression shifted slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Bartholomew.”

The faintest twitch crossed Logan’s face, but he quickly masked it. “Who?”

“Bartholomew,” Wade repeated, his voice softening. “The wooden toy soldier you had when you were eight. You told me you loved that thing more than anything. You’d play with it all the time, even ignoring Victor for it. And then one day…” Wade hesitated, swallowing hard. “One day, you found him throwing it into the fire. You said you never forgave him for it. Not really.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. “Who told you that?”

“You did,” Wade said quietly. “Six loops ago, after dinner. You said we’d use it as proof if this ever happened, if I ever needed to convince you of something crazy like this.”

Logan’s breathing grew heavier, his fists tightening on the table. For a moment, Wade thought he’d snap, but instead, Logan spoke, his voice low and measured. “If you’re lying…”

“I’m not,” Wade interrupted, his tone uncharacteristically earnest. “I couldn’t make that up if I tried. I mean, Bartholomew? Really? It’s a miracle eight-year-old you didn’t name him ‘Woodie.’”

Logan’s lips twitched slightly, but the moment passed quickly. He leaned back, crossing his arms again. “Let’s say I believe you. What do you want me to do?”

Relief flooded Wade, and he let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know. Help me figure it out. Help me stop this. Just… don’t leave me to deal with this on my own. Please.”

Logan studied him, his expression softening just enough for Wade to notice. After a long pause, he gave a short nod. “Alright. We’ll work it out.”

The village burned, the sky filled with smoke and screams. Wade stood frozen, his swords at his sides, his heart pounding as he watched the chaos unfold. Victor moved through the villagers like a predator, leaving destruction in his wake. The rest of Team X followed orders without hesitation, their faces devoid of emotion.

And then there was Logan, standing at the edge of it all, fists clenched, his jaw tight. Wade could see the internal battle playing out in Logan’s eyes, the same conflict he had witnessed thirty-five times before.

“Logan!” Wade shouted, his voice raw with desperation.

Logan turned, meeting Wade’s gaze. For a fleeting moment, Wade thought maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. Maybe Logan would stay.

But then Logan ripped off his dog tags, the small metal pieces clinking as they hit the ground. Without a word, he turned and walked away, his silhouette disappearing into the smoke and darkness.

Wade felt his chest tighten, his throat closing up as tears pricked his eyes. He clenched his fists, his grip on his swords trembling as he tried to hold back the crushing weight of failure.

“Damn it,” Wade whispered, his voice breaking. “Why can’t I fix this?”

The loop would reset. It always did. But as Wade stood there, watching Logan vanish into the night, he felt the hope slipping away, leaving behind only the hollow ache of knowing he would have to start all over again.

#poolverine #deadclaws #deadpool 3 #logan howlett #peanutbub #wade wilson #xmen origins

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inkofthebrain · 8 months ago

Text

Imperial

[Paul Atreides x Reader] 1179 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: ITS HERE! Sadly, there will be longer times between updates. But to mitigate that I have decided that shorter chapters and for frequent chapters will do better for my writing stamina

Previous chapter Next chapter (coming soon…)

Dune Masterlist

Eight———

The great hall is exceptionally expansive, its high ceilings supported by massive wooden beams. The room is filled with guests, all dressed in their finest attire, the women in flowing gowns and the men in tailored suits. The windows are bedecked with heavy velvet drapes, though right now they're left open to let in the soft golden light of the afternoon sun.

At the far end of the hall, you see the altar where the officiant stands, poised and expectant. Before him stands Paul, his figure tall and commanding, a vision in his ceremonial attire.

The atmosphere in the room is electric, charged with excitement and anticipation, yet you can’t help but feel anything other than fear. The guests are silent, their eyes fixed on you as you make way down the aisle. The music swells softly, its notes a perfect accompaniment to the scene unfolding before you.

Countless factions and political powerhouses are in attendance, all sat in organized sections waiting to bear witness. The Bene Gesserit stand in the shadows, Irulan eyes sticking out behind her veil. You give her a curt nod. Each step is carefully calculated and filled with poise. You carry a small smile on your face as you elegantly approach the altar. A facade of power.

As you make your way to stand in front of Paul, your heart is pounding in your chest. The officiant speaks, commanding the attention of the room. "we are gathered here today to witness the joining of two illustrious houses," he begins, his voice resonant and clear. "House Corino is an ancient line renowned for their wisdom and strength, their rule over the great empire marked by benevolence and prosperity. and joining them is the house of atreides, heirs to a long-standing legacy of honor and courage, their reputation built upon fearless leadership and unwavering loyalty."

as the officiant continues his speech, his voice takes on a more somber tone. "however, even in the grand tapestry of empires, a darker shadow looms. the emperor's rule has been marked by greed and corruption, injustice and tyranny. the empire has become a prisoner of its own vices, its people suffering under the weight of its excesses."

"but now," he declares, his voice rising with newfound hope. "with the union of these two great houses, a beacon of change has appeared." he turns to you and Paul, his eyes gleaming with optimism. "the atreides-corino union represents a hope for a new era, a time of prosperity and justice that will transform the empire for generations to come!"

As his voice rings through the room as you and Paul stand side by side observing the short applause. Dignitaries from all areas of the spacing guild and known universe have come to witness the eminent shift of power. The lesser houses hoped for more riches and power while the great houses feared for their standing within the new empire.

Breathe. That’s what you remind yourself. Just breathe. You have the weight of an empire on your shoulders yet you hold your head high. You refuse to falter, there is no room for weakness within this court; this you know very well.

the officiant looks towards you and Paul once more, a soft smile playing on his lips. "and so, as the stars witness this union, may the wisdom and strength of the golden lion, the honor and courage of the atreides, and the hope for a brighter future coalesce in this moment, and forever change the course of the empire's history. let the union be sealed, and the new epoch begin!"

He guides the two of you to a lavish table where union documents are played out. Paul approaches first as the room is filled with an eerie silence. He takes a deep breath before glancing down at his fathers ducal signet, pouring out a small puddle of wax and pressing his fist into it, leaving an impression of the Atredies crest. He steps back and motions for you to go next.

As you walk up you notice the existing signatures recognizing this marriage. High court officials, Lady Jessica, and your father. His lavish signature mocks you from the paper. His last decree is the overturning of his power. You take a deep breath and grab the pen layed on the table and sign your name. It is done.

Your feet trail backwards and your back is met with the arm of Paul, who then swiftly turns you to face the audience.

“House Corino and House Atreides have been conjoined! Through sickness and health, times of peace and times of war; this union will stand triumphant.” The officiant speaks into the air before turning to you and stating your name and title, “Do you recognize this union?”

Without thinking you begin to speak, “I do.” Your voice doesn’t falter.

“Duke Atreides , do you recognize this union?”

You feel Paul slightly stiffen before speaking, “I do”

From the pedestal adjacent to where you and Paul are standing lay the wedding bands. Within moments they are presented to the two of you, you with Paul’s and him with yours. No explanation is needed for the next steps.

Paul’s hand reaches for your left and you raise it to him. His hands are rough and slightly scarred, from training and perhaps Arrakis, as they slip your ring on.

It’s anything but delicate, the titanium wraps around your finger coming to a plateau at the top where a compacted sphere of spice encased in some preservative lay. It's similar to Paul’s, which you hold in your right hand. A silver band with spice marbling that demands your attention.

Your eyes flicker up to meet him as he releases your hand and outstretches his left. You slip the ring on before averting your gaze to the officiant. The silence in the room is broken.

“Duke Atreides, you may kiss your bride.” He states.

You turn your eyes to meet Paul’s before taking a deep breath. A kiss to seal your fate. The entire sentiment is ironic to you, such a soft and delicate act to mark the beginning of such struggle and pain. You have yet to see it but something within you shudders with the weight of the future.

Your eyes lock with Paul’s blue eyes as he leans in, his face cupping your cheek before his lips meet yours. His lips are soft and warm, a slight twinge that reminds you of cinnamon. Spice. Power over spice is power over all. A power which you are soon to hold.

As you pull away you wonder if Paul will falter under the weight of the crown. There is a want within him which you have yet to place, a want that proceeds past that of wealth and power. In the short time you have gotten to know your now husband, you have learnt a few things about him. He is strong and loyal like his father was yet cunning and intelligent like his mother. He has seen things you cannot even imagine, the significance of the power he holds terrifies you, yet you fear more for what power this union will birth.

———

Next chapter

Want to join the Taglist? Just ask!

🍾 Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @serapinaxx @goldeneagles-posts @star-maker-rain-dancer @beebumbo

#dune #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune fanfic #dune movie #dune part 2 #dune part two #dune x reader #dune x you #paul atredies fanfic #dune part one #paul atredies x reader #paul x reader #paul atredies x you #paul atreides

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charlottesbookclub · 28 days ago

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'time after time' (armitage hux x reader) masterlist and info post

summary

when General Armitage Hux finally meets someone who could change his life for the better, it takes him a few times to get things right

general tags/warnings (please check individual chapters for more specific tags and warnings)

gender neutral reader; hux pov (third person); set before The Force Awakens; time loop (for a little bit); discussions of mental illness (depression, anxiety); implications of self-harm; suicidal ideation; memories of child abuse; canon-typical violence and injuries; medical settings and procedures; self-loathing; body image issues

total words: 112k

masterlist and posting schedule

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six (part one)

chapter six (part two)

chapter seven (part one)

chapter seven (part two)

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve (part one)

chapter twelve (part two)

chapter thirteen (part one)

chapter thirteen (part two)

chapter thirteen (part three)

chapter fourteen

chapter fifteen

chapter sixteen

chapter seventeen

chapter eighteen

chapter nineteen

chapter twenty

chapter twenty-one (part one)

chapter twenty-one (part two)

chapter twenty-two

chapter twenty-three

chapter twenty-four

chapter twenty-five (mon feb 17)

chapter twenty-six (tues feb 18)

chapter twenty-seven (wed feb 19)

chapter twenty-eight (thurs feb 20)

chapter twenty-nine (fri feb 21)

chapter thirty (sat feb 22)

bonus chapters/outtakes: Rest

note: the whole story is from Hux's pov (in third person) but I would be very happy to potentially re-write certain scenes from the reader's pov (or that of another character) if anyone was interested in that!

author's notes

the idea for this whole thing was sparked when I re-watched this hallmark-esque holiday rom-com from 2011 called the twelve dates of christmas. it works on the same principle as groundhog day; the main character must re-live the same day until she gets everything right with her blind date. it's very silly and fluffy and fun and idk what it was about it, but I was like "damn you know who could really fuck up twelve dates before he finally got things right? armitage hux." and thus the concept for this story was born!

so this started out as a silly little thing where I would send hux on a number of dates with the reader until he figured his shit out, but as often happens, the characters had a different idea for the story. it starts out with that same time loop premise, but after a few chapters it kinda morphs into its own thing, and it got much longer than I originally anticipated. I actually really liked that this long-form piece gave me the time and space to try and develop the way I think hux would haltingly stumble his way into a genuine relationship, and I hope that I was able to stay true to his character along the way!

one of the challenges of writing such a long x reader story was making the reader character still relatable enough to a large number of people. for the story to work, I did really need to give the reader character a personality and some distinctive character traits (something that's more easily avoidable for me in shorter pieces). regardless, I hope the character and story can still appeal to a wide range of people! I never use any physical descriptions aside from the reader being able-bodied for much of the story, nor do I use any pronouns except you/yours. I think there's a few places where the lack of those pronouns might come across as a little stilted, but I tried to do my best to make it feel natural!

I genuinely had such an incredible time writing this, and it has been so fun to really dive into my long-time love for hux, who was my very first Special Little Guy. I hope you all enjoy the story, and I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on it!! happy reading! 🥰

#charlotte writes #time after time (hux x reader)#armitage hux #general hux #general armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #general hux x reader #hux x reader #general hux fanfic #general hux fanfiction #armitage hux x you #general hux x you #long post

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beifongnation · 15 days ago

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The Spirit of Change: Chapter Eight- Thawing Out

Description: "The beautiful spring came, and when nature resumes her loveliness, the human soul is apt to revive also." —Harriet Ann Jacobs

Rating: T

Read it on AO3

Story:

The frigid morning air turned the apples of her cheeks red, stinging her throat with every inhale of breath. Each exhale was visible; the last vestiges of winter barely tangible before her face, disappearing in an instant. The ground beneath her bare feet was beginning to thaw- evidenced by how much easier it was to bend today than it had been the day before. Lin continued up the mountain trail at a steady clip as she did nearly every day at this time, watching as the dawn light spilled slowly over the peaks, spreading its warmth downhill into the city.

At the crest of the trail she paused, taking in the view of the Republic City skyline off in the distance. It was beautiful at this hour, as the bay began to sparkle in the morning light. She oriented herself by picking out Aang’s statue on Avatar Memorial Island, a speck on the horizon. Inland and to the right she spotted the Hangshan Hotel and smiled at the sight of it. Due to an unfortunate misalignment of their schedules it had been three consecutive nights since she visited Kazuo’s suite, but tonight they were set to be back on track- the thought of it did more to warm her than the sun ever could. A tiny voice in the back of her mind admonished her for her lapse in sensibility and she quickly straightened her back as she recalled the list of rules she had set. Admittedly, she’d been doing a terrible job keeping them up- when she did visit him, she slept over every time. Beyond that, their conversations went well into the wee hours most nights.

Lin sighed, one month out of six had already passed and nobody had caught onto them yet, perhaps bending some of her rules wouldn’t lead to the catastrophe she originally imagined. For over a decade, the moments in which she experienced anticipation were almost always of the ‘dread’ variety. Now, as she looked at the sun glinting off the high-rise hotel building her anticipation was a thrill, all excitement for what the day had in store.

Having satisfactorily rationalized her feelings on the matter, Lin turned back to the trail, catching sight of a bundle of small lavender crocus blooms poking out of a melting patch of snow- a sure sign that spring was on its way.

*****

Since Amon’s attempted coup, overnight bags had become a common sight at Police Headquarters. Cops of every rank could be seen toting their essentials into the locker rooms at the start of each shift, the mark of an overworked force. Luckily for Lin, it also meant that the small bag she carried was of no particular note to her officers. That wouldn’t be the case much longer she realized, as the unrest in the city was beginning to subside and the gaps in her staffing were finally being filled.

It was nice to feel as if she were getting the force back in order after all that had transpired. Song had taken to his new post of Captain like a turtleduck to water and while Lin had expected as much, she was relieved to see her faith in him borne out into reality. His precinct was no longer a secondary juggling act between Captain Hong and herself. Beyond that, she was in the final week of re-training all the ‘warm bodies’ Saikhan had brought on in his desperate bid to keep the city from crumbling. In a few days time these latest recruits would finally be ready for patrol.

“Good morning, Chief,” Khen greeted her, popping up from his desk as she passed it.

“Good morning.”

He followed her into her office, notepad in hand. He closed the door carefully, shutting them inside her office, “Board of Fire phoned and asked to move your meeting out to next week.”

“That’s fine,” Lin replied, rounding her desk and dropping her overnight bag into her chair. She lifted a stack of documents that lay waiting before her.

“Those were brought by courrier late last night from Council Chambers,” Khen informed, “amendments to the City charter.”

“Ah,” Lin nodded, scanning the papers in her hand. They looked like drafts, she took notice of Tenzin’s handwritten notes to her in the margins.

“The City Attorney’s Office said they also want to reschedule, they said they found “adequate predication”, but they don’t have anything more to report at this time…”

That caught Lin’s attention and she looked up at Khen finally. He shifted awkwardly, unwilling to acknowledge he understood the message to be directly related to investigating Saikhan. She could wring Raiko’s neck for being so careless to leave such a comment in a message. “Thank you, Khen,” Lin said after a prolonged moment, “anything else?”

Before he could answer there was a quick knock at her door. Hong poked his head into her office without waiting to be invited, “Got a minute?”

“Can it wait until hand-off?” Lin asked.

But Khen looked visibly relieved by the interruption and took a step back, “I don’t have anything more.”

Lin nodded, waving Hong into her office wordlessly. Hong moved forward dragging a chair before Lin’s desk out to take a seat, he sighed heavily. “I need a favor. I’ve got a time-on request for you.” “Time on?” Lin returned, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “Blue Dragon Festival is coming up and Binh is already talking about getting the kids to participate this year.” Lin rolled her eyes. The Blue Dragon Festival was not a holiday marked by big celebrations as far as Lin was aware, but instead by the cleaning out of one's house. It was a marker of spring; a new start. Hong continued, “if you could schedule me for some back-to-backs I would appreciate it. I don’t mind cleaning out the house if I can do it on my own, but if I have to manage the kids the whole time it’s a different story.”

Lin scoffed, removing her overnight bag from her chair to take a seat, “Why don’t you just tell your wife that instead of asking me to manufacture an excuse for you?”

“Come on, Lin,” Hong pleaded, “you could use the time off, right?” He motioned at the overnight bag as she placed it onto her desk, “sleep at home for once.” She bristled at his comment, snatching the bag and placing it on the floor behind her desk out of sight. He didn’t miss the change in her demeanor, but he didn’t comment on it either. “This is a win-win for you.”

She sighed. Blue Dragon was an official holiday, which meant the Council and Transitional Committees would surely have a three-day recess. It was the closest thing to a guarantee that her schedule would line up with Kazuo’s for once. “Fine,” she relented.

“Thank you,” he exhaled, sitting back in his chair finally, “you have no idea how much this means to me. Nothing has been done since New Year, Binh thinks it’s bad luck.”

Lin chuckled, “My grandmother had that superstition. Didn’t want to risk sweeping away the good luck of the new year too early… of course, that shouldn’t have been a problem, I don’t think she ever picked up a broom in her life.”

“She must have been really lucky in that case,” Hong joked.

Lin nodded, gathering a few more documents from her desk in preparation for their morning hand-off meeting. She straightened the stack of papers with one curt tap against her desktop, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” he agreed, standing to follow her back out of her office door.

******

Street lamps reflected little pools of light in the snow melt along the street before Hangshan Hotel, its stately visage distorting as satomobile tires rippled through, winding their way through Republic City. Lin hopped over one such puddle at the last minute, remembering suddenly that she wasn’t in her usual metal boots. Her uniform had been like a second skin for as long as she could remember, a physical barrier between her and the outside world, protecting her from harm. Her armor was left behind tonight as it also proved quite effective at staving off sexual advances; something she was not keen on at the moment. A brief twinkle of self-reflection about that was batted away, moved to the back of her mind to be pondered at a later date.

For now, she was focused on the elevator doors that carried her up toward Kazuo’s suite. The doors parted and Lin stepped off into the hallway, suppressing the twinge of anxiety that always preceded their meetings long enough to knock at his door. The door swung inward in short order, “Well, hello stranger.”

Lin��s attempt to stifle her smile was in vain, her grin so fulsome that the only hope of reigning it in was to bite her lip, “Hello.”

He stepped aside, holding his arm out to welcome her into his suite, “Feels like I haven’t seen you in a whole election cycle.”

Lin rolled her eyes, walking past him to deposit her overnight bag along the low wall that sectioned off his kitchenette. She didn’t dare admit that to her, the past three days had indeed dragged in the most tedious way. “Really? Seemed like three days to me,” she told him sarcastically as she undid the tie at the waist of her coat. She felt his lips plant a kiss along her neck, just below her ear and she leaned back into him, tilting her neck to offer as much of it as he liked.

The low timbre of voice against her skin created the loveliest sensation,“Oh, so you were counting the days then?”

Lin scoffed, turning her head finally to meet his eye in feigned annoyance. His response was another chuckle and a kiss to her cheek before he stepped back, helping her out of her coat finally. She gave him an approving look as he hung her coat on the rack. He turned his attention back to her, slipping his arms around her waist. Lin returned his gesture by settling her hands on his shoulders. “Now, where were we?” he asked, leaning in before stopping short of a kiss, “Ah- that’s right- you were counting the days…” Just inches away Lin gave him a withering look, “I can count higher if you’d prefer.” He laughed, shaking his head, “No, no. You’ve been through enough.” When their lips finally met they were both smiling, making the act of kissing a difficult task. That didn’t last long, however, as they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

*knock knock knock*

They broke apart, both sighing.

“Okay, three days and one more minute,” Kazuo quipped in a low voice, curling his fist in a show of solidarity, “Stay strong.”

He let go of Lin’s waist, stepping back just in time to catch another roll of her eyes before peeking through the peephole of the suite door. His expression turned to one of confusion and he motioned Lin forward to look for herself. She hesitated only a moment before squinting through the looking glass to see Governor Jie of the Earth Kingdom Province of Leong standing on the other side of the door.

Jie was a force to be reckoned with both inside and outside of the Earth Kingdom. She had been appointed to the Earth Kingdom’s transitional committee as a political act of self-preservation by Queen Hou-Ting. Jie was a vocal opponent of the monarchy, but her substantial support in the southern provinces had grown powerful enough that the Queen understood leaving them without representation as the United Republic severed its ties would have been an act of suicide, quite possibly in the literal sense.

Lin had only met Jie briefly at the welcoming party the previous month, where she made the grave mistake of leading with, “Chief Beifong, your sister is an invaluable friend and ally of mine.” Outside of that, they had no interaction. Lin only interfaced directly with the Council and the Transitional Committee Leaders in her work.

Kazuo, however, had reason to meet with her several times a week- though late in the evening at his hotel suite wasn’t exactly the usual setting.

*knock knock knock*

Lin and Kazuo exchanged a look and he shrugged, his face the picture of confusion. Lin shrugged back, motioning to the doorknob before stepping to the side into the kitchenette where she wouldn’t be visible once the door was opened. Lin folded her arms, leaning back against the counter as she watched Kazuo open the door to greet Jie.

“Governor, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?”

From the gap at the hinges Lin could barely make out her elbow, bouncing as she gestured, “Kaz, hi…I, uh, I was just going to head down to the lobby for a drink and I was thinking about what you said about import tax in our meeting with the Council this morning… I was hoping you might be free to join me. You know, give me some further insights.”

Lin was sure Kazuo could see the disgusted face she pulled out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t react. Instead he continued to look forward. “Unfortunately, I’m expecting the Palace to telephone me any minute,” he lied,“but I’d be happy to go over all of that sometime tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Jie agreed, “that would be great. If your phone call finishes early, I’ll probably be down there awhile.”

Kazuo nodded, giving her an earnest smile, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Kaz.”

As soon as the door closed, Lin lifted an eyebrow, “Did you double book yourself?”

Kazuo shook his head with an amused laugh, “I knew you were going to say that!” He pointed at the closed door, “I have no idea where that came from.”

“I’m sure she could give you some further insights.”

He shrugged, “Too bad because I already had plans to give you some further insights.”

“In regards to…?”

His expression shifted suddenly, dropping any hint of flirtation as if he’d remembered something. “Actually, I did have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Lin felt her chest tighten, bracing herself for— well, she wasn’t sure. That was the problem. In the thirty seconds it took Kazuo to collect a brochure from the counter and hand it to her, Lin had spiraled into a thousand emotionally devastating scenarios. She looked down at the glossy card stock in her hands depicting two dragon boats side by side on a river.

“What’s this?”

“The Blue Dragon Regatta,” Kazuo returned plainly, as if that cleared up any confusion.

“What is that?” Lin asked again, glancing back at the brochure in her hands. She looked up to find Kazuo aghast.

“Are you joking?”

“No?”

“The Blue Dragon Regatta,” he repeated with an incredulous laugh, “it’s the most important boat race of the year and it happens to be just outside of Chenbao this year. On the Su Oku River.”

Some of the words he was saying made sense; she knew where Chenbao was- about a three hour train ride northeast of Republic City just over the mountains. She was aware of the Su Oku River- the surrounding villages were popular weekend retreats for the overworked citizens of Republic City. She knew what a boat race was, of course, but what she didn’t know was what any of this had to do with her.

“So?”

“So,” Kazuo led, “I was thinking you might be able to pull some strings with the boss at work and get some time off to join me.”

Of all the catastrophic scenarios Lin had imagined in her brief spiral, this was not one of them. Her chest tightened again, but in a different way. He wanted to go away with her, on a trip, just the two of them– on purpose. Had such an instance ever crossed her mind as a possibility she would have certainly added it to her list of rules: no romantic getaways. Then again, her list of rules had been wholly ignored by them both since the day they were instituted.

Her first instinct was to decline his offer, but she hesitated, opting instead to say simply, “Oh.”

His eyes scanned her face, searching her expression, “Not a fan of boat racing?”

Lin shook her head, “Are you?”

It was a silly thing to ask at the moment, he was clearly a fan, and come to think of it– the oar situated over the mantle in his apartment finally made sense, but she was buying herself time to weigh the pros and cons of spending an uninterrupted weekend together. What if they didn’t travel well together? What if they got sick of each other before they even arrived in Chenbao? What if he actually expected her to be excited about boats floating on a river? What if someone saw them together? What if she hated being stuck with him? Or worse– what if she loved it?

“I used to row in college and still follow it closely,” he explained, “I’ve never managed to get to the Blue Dragon regatta in person, I usually have to listen to it on the wireless.”

Lin looked up, “On the wireless?” He nodded. “How does one announce a boat race?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does the announcer break into a regular program with a bulletin update to report the boats are indeed on the water and roughly beside one another?”

Kazuo sighed heavily, “Oh, Lin. It’s an event. Especially the Blue Dragon- there are heats with every class of vessel you can imagine! Catamarans- all kinds of sails- skiffs and dinghies, yachts, rowing- single sculls, coxed eights, coxed fours- the whole nine yards. And the traditional dragon boat race, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Lin returned dryly.

“I can explain it all when we’re there,” he assured, leaning in to take her hands. He slid his thumb along the inside of the brochure she was holding, pushing two train tickets out the top. “And I hope you will come because otherwise I’ll have to sit next to a stranger on the train.”

Lin smiled, heart warmed by the realization that he had been so eager to take her along that he had gone out of his way to purchase a ticket on her behalf. She wasn’t an afterthought.

“You already bought me a ticket?”

He nodded.

“And you’re sure this wasn’t meant for Governor Jie?” she teased, reflexively compelled to temper her actual emotion with a little sarcasm. He laughed, thankfully.

“I’m sure.”

“Well, if you already went through all the trouble of getting a ticket for me I suppose I have to go.”

He leaned forward still, catching her lips for a kiss, “Great. I can pick you up after your shift on-”

“I’ll meet you at the train station,” Lin asserted firmly. The shift in her tone acted as a pin, deflating their flirtatious banter just as it was taking off. It was somewhat involuntary, this verbal wall she erected between them– a survival tactic she had honed over the years whenever someone got a little too familiar. Still, she regretted the way it came out. She was grateful when Kazuo didn’t seem to make any particular note of all this.

“Alright,” he agreed without missing a beat, “now that it’s decided I’ll give you a crash course in the basics of rowing.” The ease with which he breezed past some of her more prickly personality traits never failed to amuse her and she couldn’t help but chuckle, “that’s not what I came over here for.”

He shrugged, “I’m a great multitasker.”

************

The hollow sound of her drumming fingernails along the bank of filing cabinets snapped Lin out of her reverie and she clicked her tongue in disapproval. Despite her feelings to the contrary, there was no actual rule in the city charter that Lin must be working at all times. With a sigh, Lin pushed the drawer containing her personnel files closed. She would only be in Chenbao a few days after all, and it was meant to be a social getaway. Still, her eyes next landed on a drawer containing files her precinct detectives had finally determined to be “cold” and guilt gnawed at her.

Mercifully, a quick rapping of knuckles at her office door interrupted, “you ready for hand-off?” Hong asked, poking his head in.

Lin turned her head, hands still resting along the cabinet before her, “In a moment.”

Rather than departing, Hong pushed the door open further, stepping inside, “you looking for something?”

“Take home work,” she replied, turning to face him finally.

Her answer was met with a chuckle from her old friend, “You’re allowed to take time off.”

“Says the Captain who just requested three days worth of back-to-backs,” Lin retorted.

“Fair,” he conceded, “but I don’t take my work home with me…especially when I’m going out of town.”

Lin gave him a critical look, but was betrayed by the flush rising in her cheeks, “who said anything about going out of town?”

“The overnight bag you brought in,” Hong replied, looking satisfied with himself.

Lin turned back to her filing cabinet with a roll of her eyes, opening another drawer as casually as she could to begin thumbing through her files again, “every officer in this precinct has been bringing their overnight bags to work.”

“True,” Hong conceded, “but you brought a different one today.” When Lin didn’t reply he continued, “you want my advice? Don’t bring your work, it’d be rude.” Lin closed the drawer without retrieving a file and turned back to him with a defeated sigh; he had her dead to rights. “I was a detective before this, you know,” he chided.

“Alright, Detective,” she gestured toward the door, “shall we?”

“Yep,” Hong agreed with a clap of his hands and they exited her office for their shift change meeting.

*************************************** It had been years since Lin had cause to find herself on the platforms at Central Station. As an adult her vacations - especially inside the Earth Kingdom- were a rarity. As a child, however, Central Station was the jumping off point for her many visits to Gaoling. In some ways the ornate old train shed hadn’t changed much; the same brass railings she and Suyin used to stage their games of ‘slap-hands’ along were still there, covered in decades of smudged fingerprints that made Lin cringe at the memory of willingly placing her palms upon it. She recalled the mix of excitement and anxiety that preceded those trips; anticipating the adventure that went along with traversing the Earth Kingdom overland while simultaneously dreading the exhausting act of predicting which words and behaviors were appropriate in the presence of her grandparents.

Truth be told, she had the similar feeling now as she made her way toward the boarding platforms. Though she was sure that attending a boat race in Chenbao with Kazuo was likely to be less restrictive than an opera performance of The Heavenly Maids Scatter Blossoms with her grandfather, she was still fretting about how to conduct herself in this unfamiliar setting. She was also reasonably certain that weekend getaways were not a standard earmark of individuals engaging in casual sex, but anything remotely resembling a relationship was strictly out of the question, so where did that leave them? This nebulous space the two of them seemed to occupy as of late did vex her somewhat, but in her lighter moments she almost managed to convince herself that she might enjoy allowing life to happen to her if she simply let it. Unlike her files, her cabinets, her closets- not everything needed a label and a designated space- some things might even be better just existing without too much examination.

Lin sighed, checking her ticket against the platform sign; she didn’t believe that for a second. She was in the correct place at least, platform number six, and she managed to arrive a little early even. As she approached the steward she took a last look around the bustling crowd for any sign of Kazuo, though she didn’t know why- the whole point of arriving separately was so as not to be seen together. Either way, she didn’t find him and passed her luggage and a couple of yuans off to the rail porter. He had only made it a few steps toward the baggage car when Lin stopped him, beckoning him over so that she could retrieve a book out of her bag. She offered a few extra yuans for the trouble and the porter didn’t seem to mind the delay in the slightest.

Strictly speaking, she had no intention of reading The Gold Murders on the train, but concluded that in her nervous state her hands needed something to do, even if it was only holding a book. Her cold case files would have been good for this too, she thought regretfully as she boarded railcar number two. Another steward stood just inside, offering to help her find the proper compartment, but Lin assured him that she was perfectly capable of following descending numbers down a singular pathway to compartment number eight. She was surprised to find Kazuo already seated at the table within, obscured behind a broadsheet copy of the Fountain Daily News touting the headline TENSIONS FLARE OVER EARTHBENDING INFLUX and a photograph of two groups of people shouting at one other across a deep fissure in the ground between them.

“You beat me here,” she observed and he folded the paper in his hands so that he could give her an enthusiastic smile.

“And you made it,” he returned, moving to stand, but Lin waved his gesture off and took a seat across the table from him.

“I thought for sure you’d be hung up with work,” she explained, settling in. He folded the paper in his hands again, setting it aside to reveal several stacks of files and a heap of unopened correspondence covered in Fire Nation postage on the table between them. “No, I brought it along instead,” he chuckled.

“Oh,” Lin replied, doing a poor job of disguising her disappointment in having left her own work back at Headquarters.

He must have misinterpreted her tone because he quickly began to clear the table, “I don’t have to do it now,” he explained, looking almost bashful. Lin didn’t previously think Kazuo was capable of looking bashful.

“No, no,” she interjected, “it’s alright. I brought a book.”

Kazuo shook his head, continuing to stack his files along the seat beside him before remarking, “I’m surprised you haven’t finished it yet.”

“Me too, actually,” she agreed, following his lead and putting her book aside. When the table was cleared they met eyes again, silence stretching.

“Hi,” Kazuo offered, laughing lightly.

“Hello,” Lin returned with a small laugh of her own.

In the years since they had met they shared plenty of awkward moments, but to Lin’s knowledge this may have been their first awkward silence, made even more awkward by the fact that Kazuo, who normally cannot stop talking to save his life, didn’t seem to be capable of breaking it. “How was work,” Lin blurted finally.

“It was productive,” Kazuo reported, “we finally agreed on an election date so that’s done.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “It’ll be in the papers tomorrow, but I’ll give you the scoop- it's scheduled for Harmony Week. Now, it’ll be down to the Council to codify the election laws, but at least the rest of us can start planning our return trips.”

“Oh. That’s great,” Lin replied, but her conviction was lacking.

Harmony Week was a yearly celebration at the close of each summer to celebrate the founding of the United Republic. It was a logical choice given the historically symbolic nature of the week itself and it aligned with the committee’s rough timeline of six months. Even so, having a tangible timeline for his exit from her life- quite possibly forever- left her with a hollow feeling. “It looks like you’ll have your hands full when you get back,” she continued, referencing the newspaper at his side.

“Oh this?” Kazuo asked, lifting the paper slightly. Lin nodded. “It’s been an ongoing issue. Fire Fountain is built on top of natural gas deposits and a lot of engineering has gone into directing that gas throughout the city safely. We have this sect,” he explained with noted disapproval, “that call themselves the ‘Spirit Warriors.’ They believe the gas should be allowed to seep out wherever they decide so they can have ‘visions’ of spirits or something so they’re always making attempts to sabotage the underground pipelines.”

“Lovely.”

He nodded, “we’ve had some luck curtailing their efforts in the last few years and there were even a few months it looked like they’d left Fire Fountain for good.”

“And?”

“No such luck- they were just on a mission in the southern Earth Kingdom proselytizing to benders so they could recruit them back to do this. Up to now they’ve been protected under religious exceptions, but now that they’re doing some real damage I’m having to draft legislation redefining what it means to be a domestic terrorist.”

Lin gave him a light shrug,“sounds pretty straightforward at least.”

He chuckled, “Ah, spoken like someone who enforces the law instead of legislates it. No,” he pat the stack of files on the seat beside him proudly, “this is going to be the most excessively pedantic set of addendums Fire Nation law has ever seen. I’m talking zero wiggle room.”

“Where in the southern Earth Kingdom?”

“Hm?”

“Do you know where in the southern Earth Kingdom they were picking up benders?”

Kazuo laughed knowingly, “Not Zaofu if that’s what you’re asking.” Lin felt a hint of relief at his answer. It was indeed what she had been asking. “Apparently they were in Yi and Leong.”

“Governor Jie’s province?”

“Leong? Yes,” Kazuo nodded, “I actually have to add her to my calendar next week come to think of it.”

Though Lin did not intend to react, her eyebrows were quicker than her intention and they lifted with significance. Kazuo noted her expression and laughed, “I do need some further insights into this situation, but not the kind she was talking about- don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Lin shot back compulsively, though something in her stomach did twist at the idea of Kazuo and Governor Jie meeting.

Kazuo reached into the breast pocket of his jacket then, where he normally kept his cigarettes and pulled out a deck of playing cards instead, “Up for a game?”

“Alright.”

Kaz opened the case, shuffling a crisp deck decorated with scenes of Republic City on the back, “Do you know Big Two?”

“Know it? I played it so much during triad stakeouts I would dream about it later.”

Kazuo cut the deck, dealing out the cards one by one, “Koji and I play this a lot when we’re on the campaign trail.”

Lin gathered up the cards she’d been dealt, shifting them into descending order in her hands, “Hm. I don’t think he likes me.”

Kazuo paused, “Who? Koji?”

She nodded, selecting out the three of diamonds and placing it between them, “Yes.”

“No,” he insisted, finally covering her card with a four of spades, “no, that’s not it at all. If anything he was just nervous about how much I like you.” It was Lin’s turn to pause then, cheeks coloring. In spite of the fact that they were headed for a weekend away together, statements like this still caught her off guard. In her moment of silence the train engine sighed, signaling their departure, almost as if it was her own response- the train was leaving the station. Lin selected the two of hearts, laying it on top of his card.

Kazuo’s eyes bugged at the site of it, “Spirits. Looks like you have control again.”

Lin swept their pile to the side, starting over with a seven-high straight, “I suppose so.”

Notes:

If you're still invested in this story I am so so grateful to you. An enormous thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story and pinged me on tumblr to ask for an update. I'm sorry this took so long! Believe it or not this was just the first half of the chapter 8 I have planned and the second half is nearly complete, so I hope the next update is a lot sooner than YEARS away. It was running long so I decided to just post this half to get it moving!

#lin beifong #lok #linzuo #kazuo #lin x oc

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