#fingers crossed i can finish this in two chapter but we all know what a verbose motherfucker i can be...

[alectoperdita]

Uplifting Spirits by Alecto

Written for the #2024 Kaijou Summer Event

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto Characters: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler, Kaiba Seto Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Romance, Light Angst, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Gods, Kitsune, Foxes, Summer, Summer Romance, Slice of Life

Summary:

The sleepy countryside town was worlds removed from Domino's hustle and bustle, but Katsuya didn't mind it. In fact, he was grateful for the change of pace. House sitting for his grandparents guaranteed a roof over his head for a few months, and after that—well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. No reason to push his luck any further, even if he could really use more. He expected a quiet summer, reminiscent of the ones he spent here as a child, before his parents split. But his life changes forever when he meets the local fox god, Seto.

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Don't miss other fabulous entries for the event in the #2024 kaijou summer tag!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 21- Paradise

Summary: Now that you and Javi are married, it's time for you to enjoy two weeks of nothing but your three favorite "S's"- Sun, sand, and sex. Lots of Sex.

Word Count: 13.9K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (WHOOPS), stopping birth control/starting a family, kind of semi-public sex (sex on the beach hehe), alcohol/drinking (y'all are getting wasted at the pool), I'm convinced these two can't have sex without getting caught (sorry, Chucho), Javi in a bathing suit, these two are so stupidly in love

A/N: ..... Hey.... Y'all remember when I actually wrote for this story.... 😭 I'm genuinely SO sorry that this chapter took me literal months to finish, but she is finally here!!! Thank you so much for all of your patience and the love you've shown these two even in this story's absence 🥺 I hope you enjoy these two horndogs on their honeymoon!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“We have all of our bags?” 

“Yup.” 

“Passports?” 

“Mhmmmm.” 

“Plane tickets?” 

“Yes.” 

“We’re positive that we have-” 

“Baby, I promise, I triple checked everything this morning, it’s all waiting by the front door, all we have to do now is just wait for my dad to pick us up and take us to the airport, and all my wife needs to do is take a deep breath and relax.” 

My wife. 

Even though you had been married for less than 24 hours, you knew the sentiment of finally getting to be Javi’s wife wasn’t wearing off on you any time soon. 

Javi smiled, playfully crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you as you ran through your honeymoon inventory again, knowing damn well you looked like a fool in your frantic pre-traveling state. You more than trusted that Javi had everything the two of you needed before you left for the airport, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that you felt like you were forgetting something, despite all your checks and re-checks. 

“Well, your wife will be much more relaxed once we land after being trapped in a flying tin can and have two feet on the ground again.” You sighed, trying not to let your fear of flying override your excitement to finally arrive in the Bahamas later that day. “God, I feel like I forgot to pack something important but I can’t figure out what.” 

As you stared in frustration at your pile of suitcases, you could feel Javi sneaking behind you, flushing his chest to your back as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, planting a soft kiss on your temple. 

“I think I know what it is.” Javi smirked, his kisses traveling down your jaw as he nipped at your ear, making you turn your head back toward him in confusion. 

“Oh, so now you’re a husband and a mind reader. That honestly will come in very handy.” You teased, giggling while you shifted around to face him, draping his arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your waist, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. “Jesus Javi, what in the world am I forgetting, because you seem pretty darn happy I can’t remember it.” 

“You really don’t know?” Javi asked, almost mockingly, tightening his grip around your hips, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, the hot words of his breath dancing across your skin. 

“No, Mr. Mind Reader, I don’t, and you’re making it very hard to concentrate and figure out what it is.” 

You were trying your best to genuinely let your brain run out its train of thought, but as Javi’s kisses across your collarbone became wetter and sloppier, trying to form any sort of coherent idea was practically impossible. 

Javi paused for a moment, reaching both hands up to cusp your face, his broad hands cradling your jaw as his thumbs swiped across your cheeks, looking up at him to see the boyish grin spread from cheek to cheek. 

“You’re forgetting something because you’re forgetting to bring it on purpose. Something we threw away this morning, remember?” 

Oh shit. 

You were forgetting something. Only, now that you finally remembered what it was, you couldn’t be happier that you had forgotten it. 

Your birth control. 

As Javi watched your face quickly fade from confusion to delight, your grin was just about as wide as his, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

The two of you could actually start trying for a baby. 

“You remember now?” Javi teased, laughing to himself at how wide your eyes had gone, practically beaming from the inside out at your husband, feeling butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat building in your core. 

Leaning up, your mouth met Javi’s in a sloppy dance of tongues and teeth, lips crashing together in electric excitement, grabbing a fistfull of the fitted green t-shirt covering his chest and tugging him closer towards you. 

“How much longer until your dad is supposed to be here?” You rasped, already breathing heavily from your frantic kisses and anticipation. 

Quickly, Javi looked down at his watch wrapped around his wrist, the gears turn in his brain, calculating if the two of you had enough time to do what he knew you were proposing. 

“Fuck- Like, 40 minutes?” 

Without saying a word, both of you agreed in silent, rushed nods that 40 minutes was enough time to give yourself enough of a buffer, and the risk definitely didn’t outweigh the reward, knowing there was no way in hell that you could wait an entire plane ride and arriving at your hotel room to fuck. 

In an instant, your mouths were crashing together again, Javi grabbing the underside of your thighs to hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you back towards the couch in the living room, the back of his knees hitting the sofa as he collapsed into his seat, you still straddling his lap without ever parting your lips. 

Javi’s hands crept below the hem of your shirt, shuffling it over your head and tossing it on the floor before shuffling your shorts and underwear off to join your top in a crumpled pile on the floor. Your hands worked rapidly at the waistband of Javi’s shorts, lifting up off his lap to push them down his thighs, revealing the hard and weeping mess his cock had already become since carrying you over to the couch, your cunt aching at the sight of his length and how desperately you wanted to be filled by it. 

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad.” You whimpered between your wet kisses, shifting yourself closer to hover over his dick, so turned on that you were convinced that your arousal was already dripping down your thighs at an embarrassing rate. 

“Baby, you have no fucking idea.” Javi groaned, dragging his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the sensation at the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clit, throbbing and aching under his touch. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” 

Reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his cock, stroking it a few times, you slowly lowered yourself down onto his tip, knowing that with your limited time and how turned on you were, you didn’t want to feel anything besides the sweet sting of Javi’s stretch filling you to the brim. 

The two of you moaned in unison as you sank down on his length, bottoming out until you had taken every inch of him, taking a second to adjust to his size before rolling your hips over his lap in figure eights. 

“F-fuck, you feel so good, Javi.” You whined, circling your bottom half faster, the friction of the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously against your clit combined with Javi groping at your breasts, sucking at one of your pebbled nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 

Javi began to let his hips rut up into yours, thrusting his length deeper into your cunt as you rode him, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and wrapping around your ass, massaging the plump flesh between his fingers while his lips crashed into yours again, catching each other’s muffled moans. 

“F-fuck…”  Javi whined, tightening his grip to try and maintain his composure as his thoughts began to flow straight from his brain through his mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, Osita. Fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you grow our our kid and give us our perfect family.” 

“Oh my god- fuck- yes. Please, Javi. Fuck, I want you to knock me up. I wanna- fuck- I wanna  make you a daddy.” You moaned, running your hands through the dark curls of Javi’s hair as he began to pound into you even harder, his fingertips gripping your hips with bruising intensity as he guided you up and down his cock, the two of you both so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t heard a faintly familiar voice echoing from the front door. 

“Javi, Mija, I know I’m a little early but I figured you’d rather get to the airport earlier than later!” 

Little did poor Chucho know that today was one of the few times in his life that he would regret showing up anywhere earlier than expected. 

Surprised by the lack of response, despite the packed and stacked bags waiting by the front door, an unsuspecting Chucho kicked off his boots and began meandering down the entryway towards your living room, where and even more unsuspecting you and Javi were half dressed and sprawled across your couch trying to make a baby. 

“Javier? Mija? Are you two ready to leave soon? I was hoping that- Oh Dios Mio!” 

“AHHHHHHH!” 

With Javi’s back to his dad as you sat in his lap, you were the first to lock eyes with your now father-in-law, your jaw practically falling to the floor as you let out a panicked shriek, causing Javi to whip his own head around, terror running through his veins as he frantically threw you off his lap and tried to cover the both of you with the nearest blanket he could find. 

“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi shouted, hands covering his face that had turned bright red in quite possibly the world's worst kind of embarrassment. “Why are you here so early?! Please just, I- I don’t know, for Christ’s sake, please go wait outside!” He sighed, pointing towards the front door where Chucho had just regrettably entered from. 

“How was I supposed to know!? I figured I would be safe! Say no more, I will just go wait on the front porch. Aye, aye, aye…” Chucho replied, quickly scampering away towards the door, eyes peeled to the ground and arms up in self-defense, waiting until you heard the soft slam and clicking lock behind him before peering out from underneath your blanket shield. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, hands still covering his face as you looked up at him, cheeks glowing beet red in embarrassment. 

“Please don’t tell me your dad just walked in on us having sex…” You winced, absolutely knowing the answer to your question, but still somehow praying that maybe, just maybe, you were imaging things. 

“... My dad definitely just walked in on us having sex.” Javi sighed, his face as almost as red as yours, scrambling to find your clothes scattered between the cushions, tossing them over to you, frantically trying to cover yourself up to save any ounce of dignity you had left. 

“Well, looks like I am going to start walking to the airport because I don’t think I can ever make eye contact with your dad again…” You muttered, making you and Javi laugh just enough to try and ease the uncomfortable tension, wondering how in the world you were supposed to spend an entire ride to the airport with Chucho without wanting to crawl out of your skin. “I thought you said he was supposed to get here later!”

“Well that’s what I thought too, but apparently not!” Javi grumbled, shuffling his shirt over his head, combing his hand through his hair to try and fix the mess you had made raking your fingers through it. 

“Guess we won’t have any worries about getting to the airport on time…” 

“Guess you’re right about that. Fuck me…” 

“Sure you don’t wanna start walking?” 

While Chucho, you and Javi had seemingly made a silent pact to not say a peep to each other the entire car ride for the duration of your drive, every passing second seemed more awkward and uncomfortable than the last, truly regretting your decision to not grab your bags and walk along the highway to try and catch your flight. 

It wasn’t until Chucho began pulling up to drop the two of you off that he decided it was time to break your truce, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror as the two of you sat awkwardly in the backseat, bracing yourself the moment you could feel his mouth begin to open. 

“You know, the night of our wedding, Lucia and I just couldn’t keep our hands off each other either, it was so-” 

“Dad!” Javi interjected, his face physically scrunching in pain at the thought of how his father planned to complete the rest of that thought, trying to cut him off before he could get any further. 

“Lo siento (Sorry)! God forbid I try to do something to ease the tension!” Chucho chuckled, throwing his hands up in defense at his statement. 

“I don’t think where you were headed was the way to do that, Pops.” Javi muttered, letting out another deep sigh of embarrassment. 

 “Well lucky for you, it looks like we’re here.” Chucho smiled, pulling into one of the parking spots outside of your gate and turning off the ignition. “Here, let me help you with the bags in the trunk and-” 

“Nope, already got it, Pops, please do not get out of the car.” Javi begged, practically sprinting out of the backseat to the trunk, you quickly following behind him, beginning to sheepishly unload your luggage from the car. 

Of course, Chucho being Chucho was not about to take no for an answer, slowly fumbling his way out of the car to greet the two of you at the trunk with a mischievous grin stretched ear to ear. 

“Pops, please, I told you I’ve got it, I-” 

“Oh hush, Javier, I am just coming out to say goodbye, yo promento (I promise).” Chucho laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. 

“Bye Chucho.” You grimaced, leaning in reluctantly for a hug. “Thanks for dropping us off. S-sorry about earlier.” You couldn’t help but wince again, eyes darting to the ground at your last sentence. 

“Oh mija, don’t apologize. Could be worse.” 

“I’m not really sure how it could be…” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for Javi to hear, making him hold back a snort. 

“Besides, I think this bodes well for my bet I have placed.” Chucho smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as the two of you looked at him in confusion, 

“Your bet?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at his dad. 

“Mhmmm. The bet between me, your family, Mija, and the Murphy’s.” 

“As much as I love a vague and cryptic guessing game, any chance you’re gonna tell us what that bet is?” You laughed uncomfortably, looking back between Javi and Chucho. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mija. I think the two of you will know soon enough. Okay, enough of that! I will let the two of you go. Have a safe flight and a wonderful trip. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Enjoy your first of your many amazing adventures as a married couple.” 

While you couldn’t deny you still weren’t far off from wanting to find the nearest hole and disappear in, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sentiment of Chucho’s well-wishes, placing your hand in Javi’s and squeezing it tight, beaming up at your husband with love and excitement. 

“Thanks, Pops.” 

“Claro (of course). Alright, mijos, adios. Have fun. But not too much fun, if you know what I-” 

“Yup, we know exactly what you mean, bye, Dad!” Javi grunted, gently turning his father around and pushing him back towards the car making him laugh, giving the both of you one last wave goodbye before disappearing down the road. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m glad that’s over…” Javi sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You can say that again. What bet do you think he was talking about?” 

“Honestly, no fucking clue. And truth be told, right now, I couldn’t care less. Because right now,” He paused, leaning down to hold your cheek in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “all I care about,” he paused once again, planting a playful kiss on your lips, “is getting my beautiful wife onto this plane so we can start our honeymoon.” 

“Say it again.” You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him back. 

“My wife. My beautiful, amazing, drop dead gorgeous wife, who has single-handedly made me the luckiest man in the entire world.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as his grip tightened around you, making you giggle. 

“Easy there, Romeo, we still have a whole flight to get through, ya know.” 

Fortunately, your flight and arrival to the Bahamas was much less eventful than anything that had happened this morning, the embarrassment of your father-in-law’s unfortunate timing quickly fading away as you strolled up to the front desk to check into your room for the next ten days of nothing but what you had deemed your three favorite “S’s”- 

Sun, sand, and sex. 

Lots of sex. 

“Hi there! Welcome! My name is Cassandra, how can I help the two of you today?” A woman smiled politely from behind the check-in desk, quickly clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hi. We’re checking in for Peña.” Javi beamed, grabbing your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over both sets of rings wrapped around your finger, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever get used to the fact he was lucky enough to get to call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

“Perfect! Let me get right on that.” She nodded, fingers tapping across the keys as she looked up your information. “Any special reason for your stay here?” 

“Honeymoon.” The two of you answered in sync, laughing to yourselves at your well timed response. 

“Well why didn’t you say that to begin with?! Let me see if I have anything I can upgrade you to for your stay!” Cassandra scoffed, almost comedically offended that your opening line hadn’t been “It’s our honeymoon, upgrade our room please!” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” 

“Oh, honey, please. This is my favorite part of my job. Absolutely the least I can do for the two of you. Congratulations. Just give me one second here and…. Ah! Yes! I thought this one was available. Let’s upgrade you to the Ocean View King Suite. This one is one of my favorite rooms. You get the most beautiful view of the sunrise right from your balcony!” 

You and Javi looked at each other beaming, grins plastered across your faces in surprise. “Thank you so much, this is so nice of you to do for us.” You smiled. 

“Of course. Least that I can do. Like I said, it’s one of the highlights of doing this job. Alright, well, here are your room keys!” Cassandra grinned, passing the key cards and room information over the concierge desk and handing them to you and Javi. “If you head over to your right, there’s a bay of elevators that will take you to your room. I hope that you two have a wonderful stay, and enjoy your honeymoon!” 

“Thank you again, we really appreciate it.” Javi nodded, stuffing things into his pocket before leaning down to give you a kiss and reaching back to grab his suitcase and your hand in his. 

As Javi turned, leading the two of you towards the elevator, you couldn’t help but laugh at Cassandra’s face, her eyebrow playfully raised and head nodding in approval, pointing at Javi and giving you a thumbs up, as if you needed more confirmation that you had made a top-tier choice on the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. 

“What’s so funny?” Javi smirked, tilting his head in confusion at your giggles as the two of you stepped into the elevator with the small crowd of people on their way back to their hotel rooms. 

“Nothing. Just some reassurance that I cleaned up pretty damn well in the husband department, which I can’t say I disagree with.” You snickered, reaching up to wrap your hand around his jaw, squeezing his cheeks in your grasp. 

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” 

“A dork who is now your wife, thank you very much.” You sassed, crossing your arms over your chest, making the two of you laugh quietly to yourselves until the ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Oh! I think this is us!” Quickly scrambling to grab your suitcase, you dashed out of the elevator as the doors parted, followed by Javi, trying to keep up with your excited pace. 

“Alright, Mrs. Dork, we’re room 2331.” Javi grinned, pulling the information from the front desk out of his pocket, scanning the hallway for rooms approaching your number, watching you search in front of him with detective-like accuracy. 

“Okay, let’s see, 2329… 2330… Here! Here it is! 2331!” You beamed, showing off the number of your room Vanna White style to Javi as he began to slip the room key into the card reader, pausing for a moment to stare at you with his sweet brown eyes in the midst of your goofiness. “What’s that look for?” You teased, smiling back at him. 

“Just reminding myself of how lucky I am. I love you, Mrs. Peña.” 

Mrs. Peña. 

You couldn’t help but let your heart skip a beat at the sound of him saying it, still not quite sure that the incredible reality of your new last name had completely sunk in with you yet. 

“I love you too, Mr. Peña. Now, you gonna open this door so we can put this room to use or what?” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at him playfully, gesturing towards your hotel room door. 

With a quick swipe of your room key the two of you unlocked your door to get a first glimpse of your hotel room. At first, the both of you were convinced you must have been in the wrong place, because this was the most beautiful, luxurious hotel room that you had ever laid eyes on. Complete with a giant king bed covered in fresh white sheets, free standing tub, huge couch and living room area, newly renovated, and most impressively, a huge set of sliding glass doors that lead to your balcony overlooking a breath-taking view of the beach and ocean below you. 

Mental note to self- you owed Cassandra at the big desk the biggest thank you ever. 

“Holy shit, Javi. This is gorgeous.” You muttered to yourself, dropping your bags off at one of the closets at the front of the room as you began to wander and explore, gently poking and prodding around as if you were a tourist in a museum, rather than a hotel guest in your own room. 

“It’s got no lack of options, that’s for sure.” Javi laughed quietly to himself, following behind you as he set down his own bags before doing an investigation of his own, the majority of which was spent watching you excitedly explore the in’s and outs of your new home for the next 10 days. 

“No lack of options?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion, as you turned towards Javi, hands resting on his hips with a smug grin spread from ear to ear. 

“Mmmhmmm.” He replied, making his way towards you until his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest to force your gaze up at his brown eyes, pooling with an equal combination of excitement and mischief. “No lack of options in this room for places I get to fuck my beautiful wife.” 

“You’re so bad!” You teased, giving him a little slap to his chest as the two of you laughed, knowing that you had the exact same thought, he was just the first to say it. 

“Oh c’mon, like you didn’t think the same thing.” 

“Okay listen… you’re not wrong. I would be a liar if I didn’t walk in here and think about how many different furniture choices we could fuck on before we had to leave.” You sighed in a playful defeat, your breaths slowly transforming to light and giggly to low and needy as Javi slid his hands resting on your hips down to your ass, palming it in his grasp. 

Craning his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but moan as he sucked at your pulse point, wet kisses consuming your neck and jawline as a damp patch began to pool in your underwear, falling apart under Javi’s touch. 

“Well if that’s the case, what should we break in first, Osita? What does mi esposa (my wife) want? ” Javi hummed, slipping his hands under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pushing them over your hips and down your legs until they pooled around your ankles, leaving your bottom half bare. 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, you whimpered as his fingers ghosted over your core, grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to make you shutter in anticipation, feeling the slick of your arousal beginning to coat your thighs with want and need. 

“F-fuck-” You stammered, trying to string together anything that resembled a coherent thought, “The b-bed. Fuck me on the bed, baby, please.” 

Without another word, Javi had scooped you up under your thighs, forcing your legs to lock around his waist as he carried you toward the bed, mouths crashing together in a hungry mess of tongues and teeth. 

Javi set you down, gently laying your back on the bed just enough to let your lower half hang off the edge so he could make a home between your legs, draping each one over his shoulders and pushing them open further to reveal the wet, puffy mess in between your thighs. 

You should have been embarrassed with how worked up you already were from a few kisses and some ass grabbing, but with how excited you were to be here with your husband, without a worry in the world besides how many times you could disrespect your hotel room before you had to leave, you had no shame in how you were already dripping with anticipation as Javi’s eyes locked on your core. 

“Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Javi cooed, admiring the glistening sheen of your slick covering your folds, planting gentle kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your center. You sat up on your elbows to watch as Javi’s fingers lazily traced your cunt, collecting your arousal, rubbing with just enough pressure to make your clit throb even harder than it already had been. “Always so wet for me, Hermosa. My perfect wife. Fuck, I still can’t believe you’re all mine forever.” 

“Forever.” You whimpered, breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s tongue dragged across your core with a broad, flat stroke, looking up at you with those devastatingly sweet, chocolate brown eyes, pulling off you with the look you knew all too well meant you were absolutely a goner. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby.” Javi hummed, carefully bringing two fingers to your core, sinking them inside your weeping hole to prod steadily against your g-spot 

“Oh my god, fuck-” You whimpered, Javi working at a painstakingly slow pace that still had you writhing under his touch, his mouth and fingers moving in the perfect combination of pressure to already have a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine despite the fact he had just started eating you out. 

Your jaw went slack as his digits prodded faster, his tongue swirling and flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves, ragged moans and whimpers escaping from your lips, growing louder and more wonton by the second. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi cooed, pulling off you just enough to catch your attention, his fingers never faltering in pace, “Fuck, I could listen to you like this all day, Osita. All the pretty noises my wife makes just for me. C’mon, baby. You want everyone here to know who makes you feel this good, huh? Tell them, sweet girl, who makes you feel this good?” 

“Y-you, Javi, fuck- You do, baby.” You moaned, feeling your pussy begin to flutter around Javi’s fingers as his smug smirk pressed back against your cunt, now sucking at your clit with a ferocious switch intensity he knew would send you over the edge in an instant. 

Squeezing Javi’s head between your thighs, you cried out louder, chanting his name like a prayer with each second you grew closer and closer to your end, feeling arousal creeping through your body at a rapid rate. 

“Javi, Javi, fuck- Oh, baby, Javi, I’m gonna- gonnaahhhhhhh-” 

In an instant, your orgasm crashed through you, filling you with all consuming pleasure that had you seeing stars, sobbing out as your cunt clamped down around Javi’s fingers that were pulsing inside you through your high. 

At this point, you were probably close to suffocating your poor husband, but it was his own damn fault for knowing how to make you cum so hard, your soul just about left your body. 

Finally regaining enough inhibition, you let your legs fall open, freeing Javi from the thigh prison he had trapped himself in, still smirking with delight despite his red face and shortness of breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Osita.” He laughed, standing up as he began to shed his clothes, tossing his shirt and shorts in a crumpled pile on the floor, followed by his already tented and stained boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, slapping against his stomach and bobbing between his legs as it was freed. “You tryin’ to kill me, baby?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You huffed, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as you came down from your high. “Sorry, not my fault you make me cum so hard I put you in a headlock between my legs.” 

You and Javi both couldn’t help but laugh as he helped you slide further up the bed, crawling over you and caging you under his broad body, peppering every inch of your body with kisses and intentionally tickling you with his mustache in all the places he knew made you giggle the most. 

“If I die between my wife’s thighs buried face deep in her pussy, I’d die a happy man.” 

“Well I have no plans on intentionally murdering you on this trip, so count yourself safe this time, Peña.” 

“Baby, I’m convinced you’re just trying to kill me slowly this entire trip, considering you have nothing packed in your suitcase besides bikinis and sundresses.” Javi sighed, arms planted around your head as he laid overtop of you, kissing up your collarbone and neck, all the way up your jawline. 

“Javier Peña, we are literally on a tropical vacation to the Bahamas. Would you have liked me to pack, a parka and snow pants?” You teased, breath hitching in the back of your throat between giggles, trying to maintain your composure between the wet, hot kisses, Javi was planting across your skin. 

“No,” He grumbled, “You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever fucking met, baby, you don’t think people aren’t staring at you everywhere you go? I can’t fucking blame ‘em, but they better notice that ring on your finger and know you’re off limits.” 

Heat crept through your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach from what he had said, picking up on the notion behind his thoughts. Javi wasn’t a jealous man, but fuck, was he a protective one, and God help any man who tried to knowingly make a move on you while he was around. 

He wanted everyone to know you were his, and you just as badly wanted everyone to know he was yours. 

“Maybe just the ring isn’t enough, baby.” He smirked, nipping and tugging at your skin with his teeth as he snaked his hand between your bodies to stroke himself and line his cock up with your entrance. “‘Cause you know what else isn’t in your suitcase?” 

Your birth control. 

You didn’t have to say a word to know exactly what Javi meant, your face swelling with a mixture of excitement and want. 

“Javi, oh fuck-” You moaned, cut off by the sweet sting of Javi pushing into you, filling you up with every inch of himself until he had bottomed out, stalling for a moment to let you adjust to his fullness before slowly dragging his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“Maybe,” he groaned, biting down on his lip at just how good you felt around him, warmth and wetness coating his length with each stroke, “Maybe that ring on your finger isn’t enough, Ostia. Maybe once they see you pregnant with our baby growing inside you, they’ll know you’re mine.” 

It never failed to amaze you just how Javi knew how to make you short circuit with words alone, hoping the entire resort didn’t hear the absolutely pathetic whimper you let out at the idea of finally carrying his baby, showing off your family to the world, and the man who had given it to you.  

“Fuck, knock me up Javi. Wanna- wanna make you a daddy.” You whined, wrapping your arm up around his neck, running your fingers through his dark and sweaty curls, tugging him closer to you until your mouths were molded in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. 

“Christ- Yeah, baby girl? Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you, it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take. Keep you stuffed with my cum every day until it sticks.” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pushing them to your chest and pulling you closer to him so your back began to arch, giving himself the perfect angle to split you open and keep every last drop inside of you. 

You could feel every inch of Javi filling you, perfectly punching against that soft, spongy spot inside your cunt with each thrust, keeping your thighs still pressed against your chest as the lower half of your legs wrapped around the small of Javi’s back, ankles locking together to keep him as close and deep inside you as you could. 

“Dámelo, papi.” You cooed, wicked smile stretched from ear to ear watching Javi physically having to stop himself to let out a strangled groan, clenching his jaw and scrunching his face to keep from busting right then and there.  

“Jesus, fuck-” Javi grunted, finally gaining enough composure to open his eyes and look back down at you beneath him, smugly smirking, “That’s how this is gonna go, huh?"

The chocolate brown of Javi’s eyes began to darken with lust, dragging his cock out and ramming into you so deeply, a pathetic whimper fell from your lips, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest feeling him practically in your stomach. Your whimpers quickly turned to sobs as he did it again, slowly dragging his length out of your wet, warm walls before pounding back in to you with a blinding intensity. 

Leaning down, Javi grabbed your arms, pushing them outstretched above your head until your wrists were crossed over each other and Javi had them both in his firm grasp, pinning you to the bed with the weight of his body and grip. It was like something feral had ignited inside him, brow furrowed and teeth gritted with a laser focus, snapping his hips to thrust himself deeper and harder, melting you to a helpless puddle beneath him, your cries of pleasure and desperation only egging him on more. 

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take every last fucking drop. Every. Last. One.” He huffed, syncing his words to each thrust, keeping a bruising grip over your wrists with one hand, and digging his fingertips into the meat of your hips with his other. “Tell me what you’re gonna do for me, baby girl. Tell me whose pussy this is.” 

“It’s yours, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- it’s yours, baby! I- oh shit- I promise I’ll be a good girl and take it all. Want you to fill me up, Papi.” You sobbed, arousal seeping through your veins as Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot over and over, each stroke faster and more intense, blinding your body with pleasure. 

Your hotel room was drenched in the borderline pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin, wet squelching of your pussy squeezing Javi’s cock tighter and tighter as you could feel the coil beginning to tighten in your stomach, crying out without any inhibition for your volume, Javi grunting and panting with equal intensity. 

“That’s my girl. You gonna let everyone hear who this pussy belongs to? Let everyone know that I’m gonna fill you up and get you pregnant?” Javi mewled, watching the way your eyes were nearly rolling in the back of your head, snaking his hand gripping your hip down between your bodies to rub firm and frantic circles around your clit to help push you over the edge knowing how close you were. 

As soon as the calloused pads of Javi’s fingers were pressed against your sensitive nub, you were seconds away from the brink of collapse, cunt clamping tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, choking it with your velvety walls. 

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, fuckfuckfuckfuck!” 

Instantly, your orgasm crashed through your body, blinding white heat flooding your vision, pleasure shooting through every inch of you to the point you felt like you had left your own body. You could feel your body going limp beneath Javi, knowing he wasn’t far behind you given all his tell tale signs as you soaked his length with your arousal. 

Javi’s thrusts had forgone any type of rhythm, now sloppy and erratic, his balls tightening and tensing in his stomach, babbling and moaning in your ear, whispering sweet nothings before he found himself in the same state of you. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Cum all over me before I fill up this tight little pussy so full it’s got no choice but to take. Oh fuck- Fuck, can’t wait to get you pregnant. See you carrying our baby. Gonna make you the prettiest fucking Momma-ahhhhhhh, fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Javi was painting the inside of your cunt with thick, warm ropes of his spend, keeping himself flushed as tight as he could to your pelvis, making sure a single drop didn’t escape as he plugged you with his cock, cumming so hard he couldn’t help but whimper. The weight of his body slumped on top of you, syncing your heavy breaths, the sticky and sweaty sheen of your chests pressed together as Javi planted a slow and sensual kiss on your lips, swallowing your moans in his mouth. 

“Holy fuck.” You half whispered to yourself, letting out a bliss-filled giggle.

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Javi panted, quietly laughing along with you, gently brushing the damp and wild strands of your hair out of your face, “Fuck- You gotta be careful with that “Papi” shit, Osita.” 

“Oh yeah? And why would that be?” You teased, smirking as you raised an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lip, knowing damn well why. 

“Because if you keep that up, I don’t think we’re ever leaving this room.” 

After dinner and giving a few more pieces of furniture in your hotel room a good test run, the two of you had happily called it a night on day one of your honeymoon, eager to explore the rest of the resort as the two of you rose with the golden rays of the sun beaming over the horizon of your ocean view window, flooding your room with warm and welcoming sunlight. 

As much as the both of you were convinced you could have easily spent the next 10 days without leaving your hotel room, you made a pact that you would spend some time going to explore the rest of the resort after spending some much deserved post-wedding de-stressing in the sun by the pool, drinking as many mojitos and frozen daiquiris as you could stomach. 

And as amazing as non-stop sex with Javi would have been, soaking up in the sun poolside with a drink on one side of you and a shirtless husband on the other, you’d say that this was a pretty close second. 

“Another one?” Javi smirked, eyebrows raised at you as his brown eyes peeked over the edge of his aviators, gesturing at your nearly empty glass. 

“I mean… if you’re offering.” You giggled, tipsy after a few drinks and hours baking in the sun, happily holding out the remainder of your mojito for Javi to exchange for a new one. 

“I think the bartender and I are about to be on a first name basis pretty soon.” Javi laughed, shuffling out of his beach chair, grabbing his empty cup along with yours to bring back with him to the poolside bar that had been visited a questionable amount of times by the two of you since you had gotten to the pool this morning. 

“Yeah? Are you gonna tell the bartender the frozen strawberry margaritas you’ve been getting from him all day are for you and not for your wife?” You teased, pulling your sunglasses down to look at Javi, playfully rolling his eyes back at you. 

“Shut up. They’re fucking addicting. You had one, can you blame me?” 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Mr. I Won’t Drink Anything But Beer and Whiskey. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Although, I’m sure Steve would get a kick out of knowing you’ve downed like, 7 of these since we’ve gotten here.” 

Setting down both of the drinks, you found yourself in a fit of squeals and giggles as Javi reached down to scoop you up out of your chair, carrying you bridal style to the edge of the pool before jumping in with the both of you, the refreshing cool of the pool water crashing over you as your bodies bobbed under the surface. 

“Pendejo!” You laughed, splashing Javi as your heads peered above the edge of the water, Javi shaking his hair, damp and clinging to his forehead from your added assault, grabbing you by the waist before you could go any further, shifting you to wrap your legs around him as he held you, childishly swaying you through the water. 

“Te amo, esposa.” (I love you, wife) Javi teased in a mocking tone, responding to your name calling. 

“Joke’s on you, because I wanted to get into the pool anyways. You’re lucky you’re handsome. Mojito me, Peña.” You splashed again, rolling your eyes at his over exaggerated kiss before he swam away, shooting you a wink while he waded his way to the poolside bar. 

It wasn’t long before Javi was making his way back, a drink in each hand, happily handing you your mojito as he got to the edge of the pool where you were sitting, lifting himself up to sit beside you and take a swig of his margarita. 

“Miss me?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Terribly. Most agonizing 6 minutes of my entire life.” You teased, playing into the dramatics as Javi picked up your left hand, admiring the diamond ring and wedding band adorned on your finger before gently kissing it. 

“Sorry to keep my wife waiting. I hope that you’ll accept this mojito as a token of my apology.” 

“I think that’s a fair enough compromise.” 

After a few more hours and several drinks later, it was safe to say that you and Javi had definitely both been in better states than you currently were, too far gone to care about the potential consequences of tomorrow’s hangover to stop yourselves. 

“What time do you think it is?” You asked, sunkissed body sprawled out across the pool chair. 

“Wife O’Clock.” Javi answered, snickering to himself at his answer. 

“Javier Peña, that’s not a real time, you dork.” 

“Half past mojito. A quarter ‘til my next margarita.” 

“Jesus Christ….” You paused, one of the life guards crossing behind you catching your attention, “Hey, excuse me! Do you know what time it is?” 

“Uhhhhh, looks like it’s almost 6!” The lifeguard replied, looking down at his watch before continuing on his path. 

“6?! Oh shit!” You gasped, sitting up straight in your chair. 

“What? What’s happening at 6?!” Javi inquired, seemingly less concerned with whatever was supposed to be happening then that had you so riled up. 

“Javi, we're supposed to be at dinner right now! We made reservations at that italian place, remember?!” You grimaced, frantically starting to grab the towels and clothes you had scattered around the pool deck. 

“Oh fuck! Shit, uh- okay, here, lemme help you!” Javi joined in on the gathering of any item that belonged to you that he could find, tossing it into the bag you had brought down with you, hoping that you didn’t forget anything that had come with you to the pool. 

While the haphazard gathering of items was a good enough sign to any onlooker that you and Javi were more than likely intoxicated, the both of you didn’t realized just how drunk you were until you both tried to stand up out of your beach chairs, grabbing on to each other in a wobbly dance of giggles.  

“Woah, I think I drank a little lotta margaritas.” Javi stammered, laughing to himself. 

“Fuck, I did too. Jesus, how many do you think we had?” You giggled, face scrunching in anticipation of the number that was definitely going to be higher than you had intended when you came to the pool this morning. 

You could see Javi trying to drunkenly calculate his trips to the pool bar in his head, counting across his fingers in a serious concentration, tongue sticking out of his mouth, as if it was going to help him focus better. 

“Let’s see, I think after adding them all up… We drank a lot.” 

“If we can’t even come up with a number, that’s not good. Fuck, I didn’t even bring real clothes! Our room is so far from the restaurant, there’s no way we’re even gonna be close to making it!” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders in defeat. 

“Just put on the cute little dressy thingy over your bathing suit. Or just go in your bikini. You’re so hot they have to let you in.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as he looked you up and down, giving you his best drunken attempt at his bedroom eyes. 

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think the other patrons of this resort want to watch me eat pasta half naked, ya sicko.” You teased, giving him a nudge to his stomach a little harder than you had intended. “Okay, cover up will have to do, I guess. Do you have your shirt?” 

“You don’t wanna watch me eat pasta half naked?” 

“As much as I’d love to, maybe another time, weirdo. Okay, we have to go! Or else we’re not getting any pasta, naked or not! Focus, Peña, focus!” You commanded in your best pretend stern voice, grabbing the rest of your things in your hands while Javi stood there, admiring you like the drunken, lovesick fool he was. 

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re bossy.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you, “Okay, fine, fine fine, let’s go. Lead the way, Mrs. Peña.” 

If you didn’t feel drunk enough after simply trying just to stand up out of your pool chairs and collect all your belongings within a 5 foot radius of you, you sure as hell did trying to drunkenly navigate the resort to find the restaurant you were looking for. After asking several employees, you somehow managed to stumble your way through the hotel to find your intended location, “Ciao!” , one of the higher-end dining experiences the two of you had planned for your vacation. 

“Hi. We are married, and we are here to eat pasta.” Javi proclaimed to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, who was looking back and forth between you and Javi, riddled with confusion not only by Javi’s opening statement, but from the fact the two of you were nearly out of breath from running around every inch of the resort, clearly drunk, and still dressed in your swimsuits. 

“Ummmm, okay? What’s the name on the reservation?” The hostess asked hesitantly, flipping through the pages of names and times written down for seating tonight. 

“Peña. We were supposed to be here at 6 but we had a lil too much fun at the pool, but not enough fun that we completely forgot about dinner! We’re really sorry!” You explained, trying your best to keep your composure, biting your tongue to subdue your drunken giggles. 

“Yeah, like, so sorry. I had a lot of margaritas today.” Javi added, turning his head to let out a little burp at the end of his sentence. 

“I don’t see any Peña’s on the reservation for tonight….” The hostess sighed, flipping back and forth between today’s pages, clearly not amused by either of your antics. 

“Oh no… Does that mean we’re not getting pasta? Shit.” Javi pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a little boy. 

“Oh wait, are- are you sure it was a reservation for today? I see Peña on here at 6 for tomorrow?” 

“Oh shit…” You and Javi replied, nearly in sync, visibly grimacing at the fact that you had spent the past 45 minutes in an alcohol induced frenzy, running through the resort to find a restaurant you weren’t even supposed to eat at until tomorrow. 

Whoops. 

“My bad….” You shrugged, sheepishly frowning as you looked back and forth between the hostess and Javi, “Okay, well, um, we’re gonna- We’re gonna go then.” You winced, grabbing Javi by the hand to slowly drag him away from the restaurant, hoping that the physical distance would somehow spare you the embarrassment you had just subjected yourself to. 

“You’re fine, just- We do ask that our guests wear more, um- appropriate attire when they come to dine with us.” The hostess scoffed, huffing at you and Javi, looking you up and down with your beach bound outfits and hands full of pool accessories as you continued to back away. 

“She doesn’t wanna see us eat pasta in our bathing suits?” Javi whispered in your ear, making you snort so loud it almost hurt your chest, trying to keep from bursting into full blown laughter before making it out of eye and earshot of the hostess, jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow, only spurring him on further, “She doesn’t know how sexy you’d look shoving a fist full of garlic bread down your throat with nothing on but a bikini? Her loss.” 

Now out of sight of the restaurant, you and Javi exploded into an obnoxious fit of drunken giggles, feeling completely idiotic for wasting nearly the last hour of your night in a whirlwind journey to nowhere. 

“Well, looks like no pasta for dinner tonight.” You sighed, playfully throwing up your hands in defeat. “I am starting to get really hungry though… Like too hungry to go back up to the room and change and then come back down and wait at a restaurant for more food.” 

“Yeah, shit, I’m really hungry too… Wait!” Javi paused, his face lighting up with excitement. 

“What, Jav?” 

“Didn’t we pass a pizza place on the way up to the room when we first got here? 

The grin on your face was now equally as wide, almost certain that you and Javi were having the same drunk recollection. 

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” 

Somehow or another, you had not only managed to find your way to “Papa’s Pizzeria”, you had managed to successfully order an extra large pizza for the two of you to split, and make it back to the room without any pizza casualties on the way. 

Even a drunken you couldn’t help but realize how lucky she was to have married a man like Javi, and not just because of his excellent memory for pizza restaurants- What you had been through in the past hour and a half could have easily sent any other couple into an ugly spiral of arguments and blame they’d cast upon each other for “ruining” the rest of their night. 

You’d been witness to so many relationships and marriages where couples barely managed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company, let alone have fun together. Cohabitation drenched in resentment and unhappiness towards each other, forced proximity the only thing keeping them together.  

You were positive that there would never be enough “thank you’s” that you could send out into the universe for letting you marry your best friend. 

Because what would have been a soiled evening for so many others, was quickly turning out to be a better night than you could have ever imagined, plans tossed out the window to sit cross legged in your king sized bed together, bodies draped in fluffy hotel robes as you mowed down on slices of pepperoni pizza, giggling over shared, drunken secrets with your favorite person in the world. 

“Okay, your turn now.” You snickered, shoving another bite of lukewarm pizza into your mouth, giving Javi a playful shove into the sea of pillows at the head of your bed. 

“I just went!” He protested, trying to talk through the mess of cheese, sauce and crust he was still chewing. 

“Nuh uh! I just did, remember? We got off topic because we started talking about the Farrah Fawsect poster you had in your room that your mom made you take down, but you were the one who asked me about who my first celebrity crush was, remember?” You insisted, pointing your half bitten piece of pizza at him, forcing him to hold up his hands in defeat. 

“Okay, okay! Can’t blame me for forgetting after thinking about that poster, though.” Javi shrugged, smirking at the thought of his 12 year old self gawking at the beautiful blonde actress hanging above his bed, “Shit…. Gimmie a second, let me think.” 

“I’ve given you plenty of seconds, goofball! Like all the seconds I spared you thinking about Farrah.” 

“Shut up. Okay,” he paused, taking another bite of pizza, “who was your first kiss?” 

“Really? Why, you gonna go hunt him down?” You snorted, feeling like you were gossiping with your teenage best friend at a sleepover rather than with your husband, Javi laughing along with you as he shook his head, “It was Jack Mullins in the 7th grade.” 

“Okay, and?” Javi prodded, smirking as he interrogated you for more information. 

“It was at a Halloween Party my friend Sarah had at her house. I’m pretty sure we were playing truth or dare, and all my friends knew I had a massive crush on him because he was the cutest boy in the 7th grade. So they dared me to kiss him and I did it. It was so awkward, and I had no idea what I was doing. Pretty sure we kissed while the “The Monster Mash” was playing, too. I was so embarrassed after that I cried in the bathroom and then walked home and didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t ever think I’d speak to him again and he ended up being my date to prom.” 

“Wow. That was a way better story than I was expecting to get. “The Monster Mash”? Truth or Dare?” Javi chuckled as your cheeks turned red, watching your eyes at his enjoyment of your story. 

“Okay, I was 12 Javi, some of us were weird, awkward teenagers. I’m sure that you were very easily the Jack Mullins of your middle school and had girls at the door lining up to kiss you.” You rebutted, having seen plenty of pictures of teenage Javi, thanks to Chucho, knowing whatever awkward phase he went through was only a fraction of your pre-teen pain. 

“No, I wasn’t. I was a pretty shy kid. All my friends had their first kiss way before I did.”  Javi shrugged, now sounding slightly more embarrassed. 

“Okay, so what? They were 12 and you were 13? I don’t believe it. I would have had the biggest crush on you in middle school.” 

“I’m being serious!”  

C’mon, Javi, if I’m telling you about my Monster Mash kiss, I get to hear about yours!” You insisted, giving him the biggest fake pout that you could muster until he gave in. 

“I- I was 16 when I had my first kiss.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Why would I joke about that?” 

“16?!” 

“Osita, you’re making it sound like I was 72 when I had my first kiss, not 16.” 

“Considering how cute you were, yeah, I am! Okay, spill! Now I need to know!” 

“I’m telling you, I was a shy kid. Didn’t really come out of my shell until 10th grade when I started doing swimming. There was a girl on the team I always thought was really cute, but I was too chicken shit to do anything about it. All my friends had girlfriends and dates to go to homecoming with, and I didn’t have anyone, so they forced me to ask her. She turned me down, told me she already had a date. I was devastated. Went to a party with the team after, got drunk for the first time because I was so upset, and ended up kissing my friend’s older sister, Katie. Made out in the laundry room in the basement for the rest of the night. My friend found us after he realized we both had gone missing and ended up punching me in the face and almost breaking my nose.” 

“Holy shit. That’s a way better story than mine.” You gawked, eyes going wide at the turn Javi’s story had taken. 

“I wouldn’t say way better, just stupid.” Javi huffed, “You do dumb things when you’re young.” 

“Well, you must have been a pretty good kisser even back then if she made out with you for an hour. Honestly, would have been dumb if she didn’t make out with you, in my humble opinion.” You giggled, scooting closer to Javi as you snuggled into his lap, resting your head on his outstretched thigh and letting out a big yawn. Resting his hand on your back, Javi pulled you closer, running his fingers through the sun kissed ends of your messy hair, smiling at all the tell tale signs sleep was beginning to creep through your body and the way you snuggled up next to him. 

“Okay, one last question because all these mojitos are catching up to me and I’m getting sleepy.” You mumbled, feeling your eyelids begin to droop as you curled up in the warmth of his body, comfort flooding over you from Javi’s presence. 

“Okay, hermosa. Your turn.” Javi cooed, his voice softening to match your sleepy tone, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“If you could change anything about your life, anything you want, what would it be?” 

Javi paused for a moment, his fingers still daintily stroking across your hair and back as he thought. Truthfully, there were plenty of things he wished he could change about his past. It would take him less than a minute to come up with a list longer than most people could muster in a lifetime. He had wasted so many years of his life, bitter and remorseful about the things he had done, condemning himself to suffer the consequences of his actions. And yet, somehow, despite all of the things he could have said, out of all the painful things he wished he could go back in time to change, there was one answer that prevailed above all the rest, an answer that couldn’t have been easier to choose.  

“I wish there was a world where I would have met you sooner. That I would have gotten to love you just a little longer.” 

He waited for your response, settling into the silence until it was broken by one of your soft snores humming against his thigh, signaling to him you were sound asleep in his lap, not having heard a word you said. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the first night he had stayed at your apartment, and how it had ended just like this, conversation flowing until the early hours of the morning until you couldn’t fight sleep any longer, eyelids shutting as you fell asleep in his arms. How he watched you gently drift to dreaming, wondering if he was, too. That somehow, some way, the world had managed to bring the two of you together. And even if he wished he would have gotten more time to love you before you’d met, Javi knew that he’d be forever grateful for every minute he had left with you. 

Despite the raging hangover the two of you had the next morning after you woke up from your alcohol and pizza induced coma, the rest of your honeymoon had been some of the most fun that the two of you had had in years. You’d spent multiple days at the pool, soaking up sun on the beach and swimming in the ocean, eaten so much delicious food you were convinced you were going to combust, drank more mojitos than you’d like to admit, and had even gone snorkeling on a tour through some of the islands outside your resort. 

You also had been having so much sex, you were starting to feel bad for the rooms on either side of you. 

Everything about your honeymoon had been everything you’d ever hoped for and more, but with only one full day left of your vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that your perfect trip to tropical paradise was coming to a close. 

“What’s that look for, porbrecita?” Javi laughed, sneaking up behind you on the edge of the balcony, watching you watch the sunrise with your cheeks propped up in your palms, pouting at the way bright pinks and oranges were greeting the sky. Standing behind you, he snaked his arms around your front so he could bring your back to his chest, kissing the top of your head while his arms settled around your middle. 

“I don’t want our honeymoon to end.” You sighed, craning your neck just enough to look at Javi over your shoulder, “I’m sad it’s gonna be over.” 

“I know, mi amor, me too.” He softly chuckled, planting a long kiss on your cheek, the whiskers of his mustache making you giggle, “But what if I told you I have one more surprise for us before we go home tomorrow?” 

This made you swing all the way around, now chest to chest with Javi as you looked up at him in confusion, “What? I thought we were spending our last day on the beach just hanging out?” 

“Well we are, but what if I told you I rented one of those fancy cabanas at the end of the beach for us to use to celebrate our last day here?” Javi smirked, watching your face light up at his proposition. 

“Wait, actually?” 

“Yes, actually.” 

“But aren’t they like, super expensive to rent for the day?” 

“I mean… they’re not that expensive.” 

“Okay, the pause tells me that you spent way more money than you needed to on this, Jav.” 

“And what if it was? I’m not allowed to wanna spoil my wife on our honeymoon?” Javi grinned, gently cupping your face and playfully shaking it, making you laugh again. 

“Your wife doesn’t need to be spoiled, just getting to be here with you is more than enough.” You paused, giving Javi a little nudge as he dramatically rolled his eyes at you, chuckling to himself, “What, you goof?” 

“I hope you know that because you’re my wife, I’m planning on spending the rest of my life spoiling you, whether you like it or not. I’d give you the fucking moon if I could, Osita.” 

“Well lucky for you, a day at a beach cabana will do just fine.” 

While you never would have asked Javi to purposely spend extra money on things you really didn’t need to make your trip any more special than it already was, you couldn’t deny that spending the day in your own private cove of the beach in a luxurious cabana with food and drinks being served to you at your request wasn’t a bad way to spend the last day of your honeymoon. 

The daybeds in the cabana had made a perfect place for a shady, mid day nap for the both of you, lazily waking up from the soft kiss Javi had planted on your shoulder, exposed from your bikini top, freckled and sunkissed from days in the tropics. 

“I’m gonna go for a swim, Hermosa. Be back in a sec.” Javi cooed, gently stirring you from your catnap. 

“Mmmmmmkay.” You smiled, flipping over for another kiss on the lips before Javi slipped out from the flaps of your tent, softly blowing in the breeze. You sat up on your lounger, the sight of Javi in nothing but his bathing suit waking you from your brief sleep in a matter of moments. 

Even though you had seen Javi in nothing but bathing suits for the past 9 days, you were convinced it was a sight you’d never find yourself getting over. There was no doubt that you had always found him incredibly attractive, but something about this trip had skyrocketed him to another level of sexy you didn’t even know was attainable. You weren’t sure if it was the unbuttoned floral shirts, excessive time spent shirtless, his messy and wet beach hair, or just the fact that now you got to call him your husband- truthfully, it was most likely a combination of all of the above. 

You perked up, pulling back the fabric door of the cabana enough to watch Javi’s arms stroke through the ocean, popping his head above water with a brief shake before he was shallow enough to touch the sandy bottom again. As he sauntered in from the ocean, you couldn’t help but admire the width of his shoulders and chest, glistening from the sun and salty water. You let your gaze travel down to his swim trunks, feeling your mouth water at the way they hugged his waist and crept up his thick thighs. With each step closer to shore, you couldn’t stop staring at the way his trunks were clinging to his lower half, perfectly outlining his generous length. 

Javi must have noticed the way you were staring at him by the subtle smirk that had broken out across his face as he approached the cabana, eyeing you up and down right back. 

“You have a good swim?” You asked, feeling your stomach swirl as you took in every inch of him, glowing in the sunlight. 

“Mhmm. Did you have fun watching me swim?” He teased, tongue tracing over his teeth while he raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well the effect he was having on you. 

“Maybe. What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view? Not my fault my husband is so handsome.” Your smirk was almost as wide as his, biting down on your bottom lip as Javi entered the cabana, letting the flap to the entrance close behind him before caging your body under his on the lounge chair, trailing hot, wet, kisses across your chest and stomach. 

“Say it again.” He mewled, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes as his kisses trailed lower and lower, watching as he began to settle himself at the edge of the chair between your thighs. 

“My husband is so handsome. You’re so handsome, Javi.” You sighed, feeling the damp patch in your swimsuit bottoms growing, soaking the fabric with your slick and arousal. 

“You’re so fucking good to me. Fuck, I’m so lucky.” He groaned, slinging your thighs over his shoulders, eyes still locked on you while he began to tug at the strings of your bikini, leaving your bottom half bare. 

There was a part of you that knew you should be worried about someone catching the two of you, barely concealed by the flimsy confines of your cabana, but the part of you staring at your husband between your legs about to eat you out seemed a lot more convinced that this was the best idea Javi had all day. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. I’m the goddamn luckiest man alive, you know that baby?” 

Your response to his question was nothing but a ragged moan, feeling him draping his arm over your hips to hold you in place as he slid two fingers into your heat. He curled his hand to reach the spot inside you he knew made you crumble before diving back in between your legs, beginning to lick you up like a man starved.

His tongue swirled against your clit, the firmness of each stroke and the deep press of his fingers making you writhe under his touch, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his damp, curly locks to brace yourself as he ate you out relentlessly.

“Oh my god, fuck, Javi. Fuck, you feel so good. Fuck-” 

You could feel him switching tactics, latching his lips around your sensitive nub, rapidly sucking at the throbbing bundle of nerves, working his fingers deeper in your cunt as he felt you begin to clench around him. 

“Fuck Javi, fuck, right there baby- fuck, I’m close.” Your fingers were buried so deep in his curls, tugging just enough to pull his face closer to you as you could feel your orgasm building at the base of your spine, desperate for him to give you your sweet release. 

His thick fingers bumped along your g-spot, curving them ever so slightly in the way he had memorized like the back of his hand to make you come undone. The tingle along your spine quickly spread down your legs, pleasure building rapidly throughout your body as you felt yourself on the edge of release. Lifting his arm off your waist, he reached up to grab your hand laying out on the lounge chair, engulfing it in his grasp as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

“Dameló, (give it to me) sweet girl. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.” 

You could feel the pressure inside you snap, the tingling in your veins quickly transforming into full blown pleasure as your orgasm swept through you. You gushed around his hand, cunt clenching down on his fingers as you came, losing all sense of inhibitions as you cried out with a volume much louder than intended. 

But with Javi’s fingers still curled, prodding against your g-spot, you had a feeling those cries weren’t coming to a halt any time soon. It was only moments after your orgasm had finished he was already on a mission to give you another, tongue lapping up every ounce of your slick as it pressed against your clit. 

“Javi, holy shit, baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. 

Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him. 

You could already feel the tingling of your next orgasm beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, greedy for him to help you hit your second high. 

“Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body again, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you. 

Your legs were all but jello at this point, trembling around Javi’s head, still buried between them. Your last two orgasms had been so intense, you weren’t sure you could take a third, but with the way Javi knew your body, you also were convinced it would barely take anything for you to cum again. 

“J-Javi- fuck, baby, fuck I can’t-”   

“Gimme one more, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna make my wife cum one more time.” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm. 

Javi’s fingers had already sunk so deep into your cunt, already so overly sensitive to every push and pull of his hand, that the grip you had on his hand had become so tight, you could feel your knuckles turning white. You cried out his name as it fell from your lips, babbling incoherently as the third rush of pleasure crashed over you, gushing onto Javi’s fingers.  

“That’s my good girl. My perfect fucking wife. I love you so much.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick, bringing the digits to his fingers to suck them clean with a satisfied smirk. 

It was only moments before his sly grin had quickly shifted to full blown panic, you, still too blissed out to wonder why he was scrambling to throw a towel over your bottom half and one to hide the erection under his as he sat himself in the chair next to you. Thank god Javi still at least had an ounce of inhibition left to see the footsteps of the server who had been periodically checking in on you strolling their way through the sand under the edge of the cabana, saving you both from what could have been an incredible amount of embarrassment. 

“Hi, how are you two doing? Anything else I can get for you right now?” Your server asked, peeking his head in through the flaps to see you and Javi trying your best to act as natural as possible. 

“N-no, I’m good. You good, honey? Need anything?” Javi asked, looking over at you as his hand ran over the back of his neck, trying his best not to grimace at the awkward tension stewing between him, you and your poor, unsuspecting server. 

“You know what, I think I’m gonna have another drink.” 

“Alright! Another mojito for you, ma’am?” Your server asked, whipping out his pad of paper to note down your order. 

“No, can you make this next one a Sex on the Beach? That sounds really good.” 

It truly took everything in Javi not to burst out laughing, choking on his own spit at your perfectly timed order, shaking his head at you in a humorous disbelief. 

“Perfect, well I’ll be right back with your drink!” 

“Thank you so much!” 

Once your server had disappeared, you and Javi erupted in hyena like laughter, the combination of your joke and almost fatal timing throwing the two of you into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Javi chuckled, looking over at you as he shook his head. 

“What? It’s our last day, figured we might as well have a little sex on the beach. The drink sounds like it’ll be good, too.” 

Your mid-afternoon flight had made for an easy morning to pack up and soak in the last little bit of your honeymoon. It had given you just enough time to enjoy your favorite breakfast place, and have one more of the best blueberry waffles you’d ever tasted before your last shower (and shower sex) to get ready for your departure home. 

While you were sad your vacation had come to an end, there was no denying that every last bit of your trip was absolutely perfect, and even more so that you got to spend it with the most perfect person you could think of. You were convinced you could have gone anywhere in the world for your honeymoon and you would have felt the same- in the end, it wasn’t the destination that mattered, it was the fact you got to spend it with your husband. 

The fact that you got to spend every vacation together for the rest of your lives only made it that much sweeter. 

While flying would never be enjoyable, you were thankful your trip home was fairly painless, granting Javi’s hand some grace, considering you didn’t feel the need to keep it in an iron grip for the two hours it took you to arrive back home. 

You were also thankful that it was Steve and Connie who had offered to pick you up from the airport instead of Chucho, sparing you and Javi the same sort of awkward embarrassment you had endured on the ride to start off your honeymoon. 

Well, it may not been the same kind of embarrassment that you had experienced with Javi’s dad, but it was foolish of you to think that Steve was letting you get away scott free. 

At least he had managed to get creative with it, making a greeting poster with “Welcome home, lovebirds!” on it to help you find him and Connie in the airport crowd, making Javi let out a sigh loud enough that Steve probably could have heard it from the tarmac. 

“Hey! There they are! Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Steve grinned, pulling you and Javi in for a hug as you found him, Connie following suit with a much less dramatic greeting for the both of you afterwards. 

“How was the honeymoon? Did you guys have a great time?” Connie asked, offering to take one of your suitcases, nudging Steve to do the same. “ 

“It was really nice. It was everything we could have hoped for. The resort was beautiful, the food was great, and the weather was fantastic. It really was perfect.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, nodding in agreement, reaching out to wrap his arm over your shoulder. 

“Thanks again for picking us up.” Javi chimed in, the two of you now following along behind your friends as they began leading you through the airport towards their car. 

“Don’t mention it, Jav. Least we could do.” Steve replied, reaching out to give Javi a little punch to the arm. 

“We’re super excited to hear all about your trip!” Connie added, looking back at you and Javi with a genuine grin. 

“Excited to hear if I’m gonna make good on my bet…” Steve muttered, laughing under his breath. 

“Steve! Seriously? You promised in the car you weren’t gonna bring this up!” Connie huffed, giving her husband a slap to the chest, and a grimace that clearly was the silent way to ask “Will you please shut up?” 

“What?! I put good money on it, I’m confident!” 

“Wait, is this the same bet that Javi’s dad was talking about on the way here?” You asked, looking back and forth between Javi, Steve and Connie in confusion, perplexed as to what you and Javi had to do with whatever bet he and the Murphy’s were in on. 

“Go ahead, Steve! Why don’t you explain?” Connie scolded, hands on her hips as she stared down her husband in all his big mouthed glory. 

“You bet on it, too!” Steve retorted, holding his hands up in defense, pointing at Connie to claim her as part of the guilty party to whatever was going on.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, trying to cut to the chase of whatever cryptic game they were playing. 

“After y’all left on your wedding night, we- shit, this does sound kinda bad when you say it to their face, huh?” Steve paused, letting out a huff as he turned back to Connie, grimacing in agreement, “Us and your family and your dad made a bet.” 

“A bet on…” You led, waiting for your answer. 

Steve sighed again, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground before looking back up at you and Javi, “A bet on how quick it would take after the wedding until the two of you announced you were pregnant.” 

You didn’t even want to know how red your face was turning, but judging by the sudden pink flush of Javi’s cheeks, you had no doubt you looked exactly the same, if not worse. 

“To be fair, your dad was the one who started it!” Steve exclaimed, pointing at Javi to let him know he wasn’t to blame for his friend’s embarrassment before shifting his finger to point at you, “And your brothers were the one who said we should make it a bet! I just wanted in on it!” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” Javi sighed, face in his palm as he rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers. 

“I hope now you know we’re not gonna have kids just to spite all of you.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilted your head at Steve. It was enough to catch Javi’s attention, eyes going wide that there was even a shred of you being serious, laughing to yourself as you watched the relief flush over him when you shook your head at your own joke. 

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” Steve chuckled, his voice oozing with sarcasm, simply shrugging before turning back around to continue your journey to the parking garage. 

Javi took his free hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you trailed behind the Murphy’s soft smile on his face that despite his friends and families bet revolved around your sex life, there was a very real possibility that sooner rather than later, someone was bound to make their fifty bucks. 

“What’d you bet?” Javi asked, feeling entitled to know how Steve had gambled after he’d spilled the beans on his little wager. 

“Well, let’s see, y’all got married at the end of July, so July to August, August to September,” Steve paused, doing the quick math on his fingers as he calculated his answer, “9 months from now would be April, so I’ll be damned if you’re not tellin’ us your havin’ a baby by the fall and it’s here by the spring. And I know for a fact neither of y’all would be mad about that one bit.” 

And as much as you both hated to admit it, it was one of the few things in life that Steve Murphy was very, very right about. 

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae

@kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle

@the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper

@nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

@msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler

@burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[frantic-fiction]

Beg 18+

Pic Credit: astarionposting

Astarion x F!reader

Summary: Astarion asks for more blood, you make him work for it.

Warnings/Tags: Smut MDNI, fingering, begging, slight overstimulation, sub!Astarion, switch!Astarion, Druid!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Masterlist

"There you are, darling,"

Astarion hovers above you as you sit cross-legged in the grass by your tent, his shadow blanketing you, blocking the sun's warmth. You hum in acknowledgment, but your focus is solely on your book. A delicate finger dangles in front of the vampire, who audibly scoffs but otherwise stays silent and waits, patiently observing. 

You pick at the skin of your lips absentmindedly with your teeth as you flip the page. You can feel his eyes on you, taking every inch of your body in with his wandering gaze. Shifting in the grass, you continue to read, relishing the impatience dripping from Astarion, smirking when each flick of the page elicits a huff of annoyance from the vampire.

Once your chapter finishes, you mark your page and lean back on your hands to look up at the man with a quizzical arch to your brow. "How can I help you, Astarion?" 

His annoyance melts like ice in the sun as a sultry smile stretches his lips. "Can I not simply want to see your enchantingly beautiful face?"

You snort, "You have barely spoken to me since the tiefling's party. So I'd say you want something." Standing, you brush off the dirt on your pants and move to store your book away.

"I have to!" Astarion balks, pressing a hand to his chest in a dramatic display. "Besides, we have been incredibly busy running all over the gods damn wilderness since you and everyone else seem to want to play the hero."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, a playful retort poised on your tongue. "I'm terribly sorry that some of us have morals and a conscience," you tease, your gaze meeting him with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"Oh, I have morals, my sweet," Astarion purrs, leaning into your space, his breath chilly against your skin. "however, mine sway towards the more sinful side."

You suppress the shudder that trembles through your body. Astarion always has a way of reducing you to a mumbling, blushing mess with only a few salacious words. It's like he holds the key to pulling you apart and leaving you consumed by him, and he knows it, too. But you're not giving in that easily. There's something he wants. You can see it in his eyes, and he's not going to get it without working for it.

Putting your hand up, you interrupt his following flirty remark. "Did you want something? Or are you just here to interrupt my free time?"

Astarion looks at you in shock, mouth open to speak, but no words seem to want to flow. His eyebrows furrowed, and a smirk stretched his lips. Leaning on one hip, Astarion flicks out his hand, idly looking at his nails. 

"Yes, actually, I have a list. Coin, sex, blood, revenge," Astarion counts on his fingers, his tone dripping with amusement. "Certainly not in that order, and I could go on, but what I came here for specifically is something that might be better…" Astarion looks around the camp, taking mind of everyone. "Discussed in private."

Having a hunch on where this would lead, you stifle a laugh, a plan forming in your head. "Then lead the way." You motion for him to walk, smiling brightly at the vampire. 

Astarion nods smugly, obviously feeling like his plan was going just as he attended. He escorts the two of you past the others' tents and deep into the woods. Your hunch seems more viable as the brush becomes thicker and the symphony of nature's melody replaces the still air. 

After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, the two of you break into a small clearing. Its grass has spatters of bright patches of wildflowers, and the colors of oranges, pinks, and blues contrast against the expanse of green. There's a small pond on the far side, and cattails and pond reeds sway in the winds. A deer is grazing the water, but sensing Astarion as a predator; it quickly retreats to the woods.

Paying more attention to the scenery, you had yet to notice Astarion stop mid-step and swing on his heel. You stumble slightly into his chest. "I believe this spot will do nicely," he declares smugly as you step back.

Taking a step back, you quickly recover, "And why are we here exactly, Astarion? I was quite enjoying my book."

For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Astarion's features before swiftly being concealed behind a facade of confidence and a devilish smile. Turning away from you, he strides further into the small alcove.

"Are you so eager to escape my company, my dear?" he counters playfully, eyes scanning the clearing. "I thought you would like this little spot. I had no idea how beautiful the woods could be." 

"You're stalling," you accuse.

"Am not!" Astarion's voice echoes against the canopy.

Folding your arms over your chest, you give Astarion a pointed look.

The vampire sighs deeply, shoulders slumping. "Gods, this is embarrassing," Astarion mumbles under his breath so low you barely catch it. He combs a hand through his tousled curls, not bothering to turn back to face you. "Fine, yes, you see… I'm hungry, darling. Starving, actually."

Of course, the prick ignores you for almost a week to ask you for a bite. After what he did, he thinks he can call on you like his personal snack pack. Oh no, he's going to have to do better than that.

"Then hunt." You smirk, "Or did you need me to ensnare something for you?" 

"Excuse me! I am perfectly capable of hunting!" Astarion snaps his head back and storms toward you. "It's these bloody woods; there's barely any fauna in the cursed thing."

His outburst has the surrounding animals scurrying, and before you can open your mouth to utter a mocking retort, Astarion grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against his body. You yelped at the sudden force of his moments, your hand catching yourself on his chest. 

"Don't make me say it," Astarion breathes against your ear, his hands trailing teasing paths down your sides. 

"Astarion," you chuckle, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand what you're implying. If you want something, you'll need to say it."

Astarion nuzzles against your neck with a groan of frustration, his lips brushing against your skin in a maddeningly gentle caress. "Darling, may I have a taste?" He murmurs, the scrape of his fangs against your flesh nearly causing you to relent. "I'm famished, and your blood… Gods, it's intoxicating. I promise to make it just as pleasurable for you."

How easy it would be to say yes. Let him take what he wants and wait for the next time he wants something from you. But you weren't his little chew toy, just waiting for whenever he deems you worthy enough for attention. No, he needs to learn. 

"Beg." You demand, twirling out of his grasp and pushing him away gently.

"What?" Astarion pauses, disbelief written across his face as if he misheard you. 

"Beg." You repeat, your words slipping from your lips mockingly slowly.

"Are you serious?"

You meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, waiting for him to comply. As realization dawns, Astarion's expression shifts to amusement.

"Joking doesn't suit you, dear," he scoffs, his laughter echoing through the clearing. 

Silent and persistent, you hold his gaze, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. His eyes drift to the faint scar beneath your chin, a silent reminder. Wetting his lips, Astarion clears his throat before looking at you, clearly trying to grapple for the upper hand.

"Must we really play this song and dance?" He asks.

"If you want my blood, this is how you'll get it."

You hold firm, with your arms crossed over your chest. Astarion stares at you as if seeing you for the first time, and a mix of emotions storms behind his eyes. His body seems to deflate, coming to terms with the fact that you won't back down. Licking his lips, Astarion swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he murmurs through gritted teeth, his posture betraying his inner turmoil. "Allow me a taste of your exquisite blood. I'm starving and beg for your mercy."

"On your knees," you command softly, relishing the power that surges between you. "And I want a please this time."

Astarion looks at you with wide eyes. "Must I degrade myself further?" The anticipation in his voice betrays his reluctance to give in to you. "You've already gotten what you've wanted."

Biting your lip, you step closer and delicately cup his jaw, your touch gentle but commanding, and bring Astarion's lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I'll let you have your fill of my blood and more if you want. But only if you're a good boy and listen." Astarion breath leaves his lungs in a shuddering gasp, all fight seeping from his body.

"You are a cruel woman." 

With a resigned sigh, Astarion sinks to his knees. His silver curls reflect the golden light filtering through the forest canopy. His back is pin straight, and his neck is arched up to look at you with his deep crimson eyes. You can't help but focus on the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows again.

"I beg, please allow me the privilege to taste your tantalizing blood," he starts, but you zone out the rest of his words, focusing more on Astarion himself.

You focused on how his shirt hugs his chest, the cotton straining in some places while loose in others. You noticed how blue his veins are, just under his pale skin. You see how his pants seemed tight in the front, something stiff straining against the thick fabric. 

Wait. Oh. Now that is interesting. 

You pounce before you can think things through, mind moving more on instinct than anything else. Astarion's plea for you is replaced with a yelp as you push him on his back and straddle his lap.

"Wh-what are you?" he stutters before letting out a pathetic moan he will most certainly deny later. 

You capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Your tongue runs over the seam of his lips, and when Astarion allows you access, you lick into his mouth. Your tongues twirl in a practiced dance as you deepen the kiss. Astarion groans into your mouth. A hand moves up to cup your head, fingers combing through your hair. 

"Astarion," you purr breathlessly, rolling your front against the vampire's growing bulge. You press your body closer against his, practically willing yourself to melt into him. "Did begging for me get you all excited?"

"Excuse you? No! Don't be ridiculous," he tries to deny but fails when another moan rakes through his chest with another turn of your hips. 

"Look at you, all hard and needy." You lick up the column of his throat, stopping to playfully bite at his ear before whispering. "Do you like being my good boy, Astarion?"

"Shit! You're being ridiculous," Astarion pants, his hand tightening on your hips to cease your ministrations. "You're rubbing against me like a desperate virgin. Any man would get aroused."

Humming calmly, you sit back on your haunches and remove your shirt, tossing the garment into the bushes. Astarion's eyes immediately wander your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your body. You take your bra off and trail your fingers over your nipples. Astarion lets out a pitiful groan.

"That's disappointing," you pout out your lip, trying to conceal a smile. "I was going to reward you for being so good." 

"Darling, I think this is reward enough, so long as we end this with my teeth in your pretty neck."

"That's good to know," you chuckle, trailing a hand down the valley of your breast and over the planes of your stomach, stopping just shy of your waistband. "I'll enjoy this reward for both of us.

Astarion's brows scrunch slightly in confusion before zeroing in on your hand as you teasingly slip under the waistband of your pants and past your folds. Sighing softly, you begin to tease your clit with the pad of your finger, staring down at Astarion, who looks as if he might just have an aneurysm.

He cools his features with a smug smirk, idly trailing his hand up your side. "A show and then dinner? My dear, you're not as good at this teasing as you think, but I admire your effort."

One of Astarion's icy hands works up to your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other grips your hip and begins to rock you against his stiff erection. You involuntarily gasp at the friction, allowing the vampire a moment of control.

Astarion ruts against you, letting out a grunt when you grind down with equal enthusiasm. Then suddenly, Astarion's hands are ripped from your body and pinned to the ground as you rise further, removing any contact between the two of you.

"What?" Astarion exclaims before looking to the side. Little vines sprout from the ground, binding his hands to the hard earth. "Gods, you wretched thing." 

Clicking your tongue, you grin wickedly down at the trapped man. "Only good boys get to touch."

"Darling, must we continue this?" Astarion groans in frustration, tugging at your vines, annoyed when they don't give. "We both want this. You're the one making things difficult."

"Maybe, but only because I love hearing you beg for me. Now, unless you're going to give me what I want." You resume your ministrations, moaning as you dip a finger into your neglected hole. "Keep quiet,"

"At least remove your trousers!"

"Don't make me gag that pretty mouth of yours, Astarion." 

Astarion fumes from underneath you, but you can see the cracks forming, the dilated pupils, the rapidly falling chest as he pants for breath he doesn't need, and the way he tugs against his bindings even though he knows nothing will give. You know he'll break. He already did once he had a bit more incentive.

Adding another finger, you start to pump in and out of your dripping cunt; an audible squelching noise can be heard with each dip of your hand. You moan, dropping your head back. Circling your puffy clit with your thumb, you rock against your hand, your other one snaking up your body to tease your breast.

"Astarion," you breathe out, smirking when you hear the man's frustrated groan. "Gods, I'm so wet, making a mess, squeezing my fingers so tight."

"You are killing me all over again, sweetheart," Astarion cries; his hips are desperately trying to move against you, but another vine wraps around his stomach, holding him down.

"Just say the word's Star," you say, pinching your nipple and rolling it between your fingers. A whine rips from your throat when you curl your fingers up and hit that spongy spot, which has a familiar burning sensation that starts coiling in your gut. "Fuck, say the words, and it could be you making me feel this good. Won't you be my good boy?" 

"Gods," He bites back another moan, slamming his head in the dirt. 

"I'm so close," you whimper, moving your thumb faster against your clit. "Just imagine it could have been your cock I'm clenching around, not my fingers. Could have been you that's making a mess of me." Looking down, you see Astarion all flustered, mouth agape, and hair a mess of frizzy curls, his whole body practically buzzing with need. It was enough to send you over the edge cumming around your fingers with a choked sob. 

This finally broke the man. "Fine, okay! Please, please let me go!" Astarion pleads, voice ragged and needy. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want, please. Gods, please, please, please!"

Suddenly, the vines vanish, and your lips are again on his. Astarion's pleas muffle against your mouth and quickly morph into a satisfied grunt when he bites his lip. Now that he's finally free, Astarion's quick to roll the two of you and pin you against the cold earth. Nestled between your thighs, Astarion starts mindlessly tearing at his clothes, his mouth trailing sloppy open-mouth kisses down your neck and to your chest. 

"You are an evil woman." Astarion murmurs against the skin between your breasts. Slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, he begins to suck, and you gasp, arching your back into him. 

"Astarion, fuck!" 

A hand curls into his hair, your nails raking against his scalp, causing him to hum against your chest, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You feel his hands move to your pants, tugging them down your hips, dragging your drenched underwear with them. 

A cold finger trails through your warm cunt, and you shiver at the feeling. "I must admit, darling, I quite like it when you take charge, but," His voice rumbles against your skin, and you whine at the feeling of his fangs teasing your swollen nipple. "My patience has grown thin, so if it's okay with you, your good boy will take his reward now." His finger teases your entrance, barely dipping in.

You clench, choking on the gasp that bubbles up your throats. "Yes! Gods, please fuck me!" 

Astarion cups the back of your head and kisses you deeply. Feeling his hard cock swipe through your cunt, your gasp into his mouth, your hand coming up to hold his face. He presses into you, and you pull away from his lips, moaning at the stretch of his cock, filling you to the brim. Astarion peppers feather light kisses over your face and neck as he bottoms out and waits for you to nudge him to continue. 

Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Astarion pulls out almost entirely before impaling you again and sets a steady pace. A pace has your toes curling and you feeling breathless with each delicious drag of his cock against your walls. You don't think you'll get over the feeling of Astarion inside you, feeling the ridges rub against you in all the perfect ways as if he has the only manual to tear you apart with mind-numbing pleasure. 

"Ugh-Always so tight," he grunts into your neck, "So perfect, just for me."

"Astarion!" You dig your nails into his shoulders and buck against each of his thrusts. "Faster, please!"

Astarion picks up the pace; your collective sounds of pleasure mingle together in the air, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the clearing. Astarion's forehead drops against yours, and both of your noses brush against each other as he breathes in every whimper and moan of ecstasy you give him with each drag of his cock against your walls. Snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies, his nimble fingers swirl around your clit in time with each grind of his hips. 

Another moan rolls off your tongue, and soon, that warmth blossoms once again in the pit of your stomach. "D-don't stop," you plead, hands running up his chest to wrap around his shoulder. "M' close." 

Astarion nuzzles at your neck and inhales your scent, groaning at a particularly tight squeeze of your cunt. Even after all the begging and pleading you put him through, he still silently asks before he takes a bite. The thought warms your heart and is something you'll have to reflect on later. 

"Yes! Please, bite me!" You whimper, clutching the back of his neck and pressing him close. 

The sharp sting of ice pierces your neck, and you cry out against the pain. Astarion pays special attention to your clit, applying pressure and dragging his thumb around the swollen bud, his way of helping you through the initial sting. After a moment, the pain resides in mind-numbing pleasure, and soon, everything becomes too much. 

Astarion consumes you. His hand caressing your body, his mouth lavishing your neck, his cock hitting you perfectly in spots only he seems to know how to reach. It's all too much, and soon tears prick at your eyes, and the heat in your lower stomach bursts, draining lava into your veins. Your nails dig into the flesh of Astarion's shoulders as you scream out his name, body spasming around the pleasure that courses through your body. 

This seems to be enough to push Astarion over the edge with you. Still drinking mouthfuls of your blood, Astarion is rutting into you, grinding your pelvis against the solid earth. His moans hum against your skin, and his thrust becomes sloppy before a rush of heat gushes inside you as Astarion cums.

With a few more gulps of blood and a few more thrusts of his hips, you whimper with overstimulation. Astarion removes his mouth from your body, licking any stray droplets. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until your head is lying on his chest. You whine at the loss of fullness, cringing at the feeling of your combined release that begins to drip down your legs. 

"That was…" Astarion trails off, seeming to be at a loss for words. 

"Way better than the tiefling party." You mumble against his chest, smirking at the snort he makes.

"Yes, I would be inclined to agree."

"So you admit it," you tease, trailing your thumb over Astarion's nipple. "You liked begging for me."

"I wouldn't… mind if you took charge again," Astarion says, skirting around your claim.

"Whatever protects your ego." You tilt your head up. "Hey, Star?" 

Astarion hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed, his body seeping into a comfortable stillness. You note something he didn't allow himself to do at the party. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his eyes open.

"Next time, don't ignore me for a week to ask for my blood. I don't want you hungry. I care about you." 

Astarion seems to freeze at your words as if he's never heard a caring word said to him. The thought alone makes you want to hunt this Cazador down and flay him for all of Baldur's gate to see. 

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, that will certainly make things easier from now on." 

The two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin against the other. Soon, when the sky turns to ombres of blues, pinks, and purples, you decide it's time to return to camp. Astarion is quiet for the journey back; an air of contemplation clings to his being. You don't push. Goodnights were said, and you parted ways, feeling like something had changed. Everything may have changed.

Heya, it's been crazy, but I finally got some time and energy to finish up this piece I've been working on for a while. I hope Astarion's not too out of character for as earlier of act one, I just liked the idea. I hope you all enjoyed, let me know what ya thought!

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[stariikis]

ni-ki as your study date •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

synopsis ; the price you paid for choosing an athletic boyfriend over an academic one? no practical help when you're drowning in mysterious equations and symbols. but at least he's good at comforting the perfectionist in you.

pairing ; athletic!nishimura riki x academic achiever!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 802 warnings n notes ; dear readers, these two are mentally suffering because one doesn't care and the other cares too much! trigger warning, bio phys chem and math mentioned..

“-And during PE we played badminton, and Jake hyung was soooo bad today. He kept trying to smash but missed the shuttlecock.” Beside you, with his “I-swear-I’ll-finish-three-chapters-today” Physics textbook hardly opened to the first page, Riki doesn’t stop rambling about the various sports he’s played today. You’ve heard enough about the goals he scored during an impromptu morning game of football. The way his best friend fumbled during a badminton match. How his legs ache from standing in the sun for hours during baseball training. You’re about to tug him out the cafe by his jersey. 

“Are you going to start your notes or what?” You shove him with a lighthearted tone, barely concealing the exasperation behind your words. “All that talk about wanting to finally get an A but you still keep yapping. About sports, no less.” 

Riki rolls his eyes and mock-salutes in your direction. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Taking a sip of your matcha latte, you sigh resolutely and return to examine various electronic configurations. Perhaps now, Riki will leave you in peace… 

Only five minutes later, you’re snapped out of focus with a sheepish nudge. 

“What’s a moment…” “OH my days Nishimura Riki how can you not know what a moment is that’s like basic physics you’re supposed to have known that since we started chapter TWO.” 

Shrinking under your scoldings, he glances back at his textbook, reads the definition and looks back towards you. “I don’t get it.” 

With another heavy sigh, you scoot closer and attempt to explain as simply as you possibly can. However, he’s deliberately distracting you, with playful caresses through your hair and touches of kisses as smooth as silk on your cheek. You’ve got to be turning a beetroot red, but you ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks and continue on. 

“Now repeat what I just said to you.” Refusing to give in to his silly antics, you cross your arms and lean back. Swiping the hair his fingers touched, not too long ago, out the way. 

He pouts, knowing him acting cute is your soft spot. “That’s not fair.” 

“Why?” You press, but relent and hunch back over your notes. “You know what, just focus on relearning your balanced forces. Do you remember what the principles of moments even is?” Oh wait, he doesn’t even know what a moment is. The way he blinks once at his textbook and blinks twice your way proves this. 

“At this point, I’m not dead, you’re more cooked than I am. And I am cooked.” 

Gasping scandalously, he whisper shouts, “You’re literally my academic goal, what are you on? I wish I had the motivation you did. Okay, more like I wish I had your grades, but we both know that’s not happening.” 

He gestures to all the bruises he’s obtained over the past week, scratches and wounds that demonstrate how dedicated he is to all the sports he partakes in. They’re his own personal souveniers. Although most fade quickly, some leave scars burning in his skin, but he’s proud of them all even when you express your concern for him. 

He’s always been like that. Dismissive of concerning matters because he enjoys showing people how strong he is. Internally and externally. The complete opposite of him, one Maths question you get wrong and you start questioning the very bane of your existence. 

You fall into silence, looking back at your notes. You have lost track of where Chemistry starts and ends, your paper copy of the periodic table crumpled and defaced from your bursts of frustration. You may not show it, but there’s so much going on in your head it’s hard to escape the fog you’ve mentally put yourself in. With the crazy STEM course you’ve chosen, you know that you’re definitely on the train tracks with a sign pointing towards a crash site. 

Either you shut yourself out and pass with flying colours, or you enjoy life and fail miserably. There’s no in between. Is it so hard to want to maintain a social life and a healthy relationship, while topping your class and achieving high honours? Perhaps it is. 

Noticing your sudden stillness, Riki panics. “You’re stressing out again. Why are you stressing out again? You’re doing well. Well, compared to me. Should I just do bio? Things with numbers are always complicated..” 

You laugh as he looks back at his noteless textbook. 

“Anyway, I think you’re doing just fine.” Riki murmurs, massaging your back with his hand. “Don’t overwork yourself and you’ll be fine. Just like you were, and always will be. Do you want me to test you?” 

“That’d be nice…” You smile, watching his eyes light up a little too eagerly when he closes his textbook. “But you’re just saying that so you don’t have to study anymore, right?”

how life be feeling rn, send prayers

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Prologue: Before It All —jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 + explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, these two really do hate each other ❥chapter warnings: Fighting (verbal), swearing, mutual hate ❥word-count: 2.4k ❥Series Masterlist ❥ || Next Chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

Your final together was tomorrow, after a month of painfully hard work it would finally be over. Except you hadn’t heard from Jungkook  this week at all. From what you can tell he seemed to finish all of his portion of the work. You on the other hand, due to some finals, were a little behind but you had no doubts that you would be able to catch up. 

Not hearing from Jungkook did have you somewhat concerned. 

You both were normal last week but this week radio silence. You had texted him just keeping him updated on the progress of your work. You choked it up to him probably being swamped with his own work, and his own projects for other classes. So you tried not too worry. 

You sent one more text, anxiety rising with each passing minute.

:hey sorry to text you again. I’m just checking in! I should be able to finish in the next hour or two, so don’t worry.

:we are going to kill this presentation in the morning.

May have been a touch late to texting someone, it was 1:30 in the morning. You didn’t care though, he had texted you at like two in the morning before. So, you figured he’d forgive you.

But the second you sent the text.

The lights and your laptop had switched off. You sat in completely darkness. Suddenly the emergency lights shown by your door. You turned on your flashlight. Your laptop was old so your power being out means that you don’t have a laptop to work on. You made your way to the hall where some others had gathered. Asking what had happened.

Your RA eventually came up to your floor and told everyone not to worry, they were going to have the power on soon and to stay in our rooms for now. That we would get some text updates. You decided to not panic yet, soon after you did get a text saying that their was a an on campus outage and the problem would be resolved soon.

“Seriously?” you muttered, going back into your room. You texted Jungkook again.

:hey sorry I swear this is the last one, power in my dorm is out.

:and you know how my laptop is, so I have to wait until the power comes back.

:still going to kill it tomorrow!

Forty-five agonizing minutes later, the power finally returned. You rushed back to your laptop, praying everything was still there. But when you opened your document, it was blank. Completely empty.

“No,” you whispered, frantically searching for any backup.

Your entire month of work was gone. You tried finding a previous version, but there was nothing. Not on your hard drive, not in your email, not even a single backup copy. Every word, every citation, every carefully crafted paragraph—vanished. Except... Jungkook might have a copy.

You grabbed your phone and called him, your fingers trembling. Voicemail. You called again, and it rang once before going straight to voicemail again.

“Jungkook, pick up. Something happened. I need you to call me back.”

Panic set in as you scoured every corner of your computer. Desperate, you even checked old drafts and random notes on your phone, but there was nothing. Your heart sank. You called Jungkook two more times, but there was still no answer.

You were going to have to start over.

You knew the material—you’d been working on it every day for a month—but rewriting it from memory was going to be a nightmare. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and started typing. Every minute felt like an hour, but you pushed through. Tiredness clawed at you, and your eyes stung from the screen’s glare, but there was no other option.

Five hours later, you finally finished. The paper was nowhere near perfect, but it was something. A B, maybe a C at best, but it was better than nothing. Exhaustion overtook you the second you hit save, and you collapsed into bed.

It felt like only a second had passed when your eyes snapped open. You scrambled for your phone, the panic setting in again.

10:05 AM.

Ten missed texts and three missed calls from Jungkook.

“No!” You leapt out of bed, pulling on the first clothes you found, emailing the paper to yourself while sprinting out the door. You raced across campus, nearly tripping as you weaved through students, your breath burning in your lungs. By the time you reached the classroom, the hallway was filled with students leaving.

You pushed through the door, your hair a mess, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Shit, no, no, please.” You spotted your professor leaving and tried to push your way forward, only to be blocked by Jungkook.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” he sneered as you stumbled in, breathless and disheveled.

“Jungkook--” you began, but he cut you off.

“Where the hell have you been? Why weren’t you here?” His voice was icy, and he took a menacing step toward you, making you step back.

“I—I fell asleep!” You stammered, tears welling up. Your exhaustion was really hitting you, and you couldn’t hold them in, “Did you see my texts? My calls? My voicemails?”

“Texts and calls don’t mean shit if you’re not here!” he snapped. “You’re acting like you care, but you clearly don’t. You’ve been flaky this entire time.”

“Jungkook, that’s not fair—”

“Not fair?” he cut in, voice rising. “Maybe you did this on purpose! Maybe you’ve been plotting to screw me over!”

The accusation hit hard. “Are you seriously accusing me of sabotaging you? I’ve worked my ass off for this project!”

Jungkook’s eyes were cold. “And where were you when it mattered? You think your excuses are enough? Friends don’t disappear.”

The recent reconciliation between the both of you now dissolving on the ground between the both of you. You both had taken huge strides to become friends despite your resistance.

“Friends don’t accuse each other of being petty schemers!” you shot back, the anger surging. “I’ve been working all night to fix this, and you’re just throwing all my effort back in my face!”

“Maybe I’m tired of your games,” Jungkook retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. “Maybe David was right about you. Maybe he was right that this is something you do.”

David, your ex-boyfriend. Who had manipulated so many people into believing that you were crazy, when he had cheated on you multiple times. What hurt worse? Jungkook knew all of this, knew that David was an asshole. Knew that David was an awful person who lied every time he spoke.

Now he was throwing it in your face, what the hell was wrong with him?

The sting of his words was unbearable. “How dare you! I trusted you to be reasonable. You said you believed me when it came to what David said about me. How dare you throw that in my face! I came here ready to explain, ready to make things right. But you’re too busy being a jackass to listen.”

“I may be a jackass but at least I can be relied upon.” he said quietly, almost dismissively.

The words cut deeper than any knife. “You know what? I don’t need to defend myself to someone who’s already made up their mind. You’re not worth the effort, since you are so quick to blame others. You’re just like David after all.”

You turned away, feeling tears spill down your face. You walked away, not looking back. You had to save your grades, even if it meant cutting ties with Jungkook for good. Didn’t really matter, you two didn’t know each other that well anyways.

You found your professor, explained everything through your tears, and showed him the evidence. He listened, though his sympathy couldn’t override the rules. He allowed you to submit your rewritten paper but couldn’t let you do the presentation. He promised to grade fairly but couldn’t guarantee a good mark.

You received a D. It was lower than you hoped but enough to pass. Jungkook, however, failed, delaying his graduation.

You felt a grim satisfaction, but the bitterness lingered. The loss of the friendship gnawed at you, even if you hated him. You’d never see him again, and you were more than okay with that.

That was five years ago now.

The memory lingered as fresh and raw as ever. You had moved on, grown, and carved out a space where Jungkook’s existence didn’t matter. That was until you became friends with Melanie, who in every sense of the word was your best friend. Though, because fate is a funny thing, she fell in love with Namjoon. Namjoon’s closest friend was none other than Jungkook.

That relationship kept you and Jungkook in each other's lives for longer than either of you had cared for.

Forcing the two of you back into each other’s orbit. That also meant facing Jungkook repeatedly, each time resulting in fights so venomous you wondered how Melanie and Namjoon put up with it. So many clashes over so many years, so many attempts by mutual friends proved futile in bringing the both of you together. Eventually, everyone gave up and just made sure to never have the two of you in a room together.

Now with Namjoon and Melanie’s engagement, a wedding loomed around the corner.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, mind still reeling from the past. The fallout from that final class had changed everything. Every time you saw Jungkook since then, it was an instant—words turned to daggers, and every conversation became a battlefield. Neither of you ever backed down; pride kept you both locked in a bitter stalemate.

“Just a heads-up,” Melanie said, breaking you out of your thoughts. She hesitated, eyes flicking away as if bracing for impact. “I know how you two feel about each other, but he’s Namjoon’s best friend.”

You knew what was coming, but you still grimaced. “Don’t tell me.”

Melanie sighed. “Jungkook is his best man.”

You clenched your jaw, the anger bubbling up instantly. You had known this was inevitable, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “Of course, he is.”

Melanie’s living room felt unusually tense, the soft glow of the evening sun doing little to warm the atmosphere. Melanie had always been the bridge between you and Jungkook—constantly trying to keep the peace, but it was becoming increasingly clear that this time was different. You couldn’t just show up, exchange a few biting remarks with Jungkook, and call it a day. This was her wedding. This was the culmination of everything she’d dreamed of, and she deserved your best effort.

Melanie took a deep breath, her stern expression softening just slightly. “I know it’s a big ask, and I wouldn’t push it if I didn’t have to. But Namjoon and Jungkook—they’ve been through so much together. He’s not just a friend to Namjoon; he’s like a brother. And I need you both to make this work.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. Melanie was trying to keep the peace, but the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. She had seen you and Jungkook tear each other down time and again. Seeing the tears you shed over the times he would hit the nail on the head, and say something that went too far. Held you back from starting a physical altercation with him.

Each encounter was more bitter than the last, and every argument chipped away at the thin veneer of civility you both clung to.

“I promise,” you said, your voice steady despite the resentment simmering underneath. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Melanie’s lips twitched into a small smile, but her eyes remained cautious. “Thank you. And I mean it, no half-hearted attempts. I need rainbows and kindness coming out of both of your asses.”

You laughed despite yourself, appreciating the way Melanie could still inject humor into even the most awkward of situations. “Got it. Rainbows and kindness. I’ll bring a whole damn unicorn if that’s what it takes.”

“Good, I don’t know what I would do if we had another new years situation.” Although it was years ago, that was probably the worst fight you and Jungkook had. The things that were said and the drink you dumped on him are very present in your mind. Made you laugh to yourself even but it definitely caused a bot of an issues in your group.

You shook your head, feeling a familiar pang of bitterness. “Yeah that was a really low moment for me. I think because of that things between us will never change. He’s still that same arrogant jerk who can’t own up to his mistakes. And I’m done pretending I care enough to fix anything.”

“People change,” she said softly, it was something she tried to convince you of many times. “But I get it. You don’t have to be friends—you just have to coexist.”

“That, I can do,” you said firmly. “I’m not going to let him ruin this for you.”

“Thank you,” Melanie said, squeezing your hand. “I’m so happy you accepted the role. I couldn’t imagine my wedding without you there.”

“For you? Anything,” you replied, your resolve hardening. You would hold onto your promise to Melanie, no matter how much Jungkook got under your skin. This wedding was about Namjoon and Melanie, not you and whatever animosity you harbored toward Jungkook.

The room lapsed into a comfortable silence, but your mind was racing, already plotting ways to avoid Jungkook’s inevitable provocations. You pictured the rehearsal dinner, the ceremony, the reception—any scenario where the two of you would be forced to interact. You would keep your distance, smile politely, and not engage. If Jungkook’s presence was like a storm cloud threatening to ruin the day, you would be calm. You owed Melanie that much.

“When the wedding rolls around, I’ll keep up appearances and be civil and kind,” you said, trying to reassure not just Melanie, but yourself. “Jungkook might be the spawn of Satan, but as long as I don’t speak to him directly, everything will go perfectly.”

No amount of promises could erase the deep-seated anger you felt every time you saw his face. This time, though, you would have to bury it, if only for a weekend. You would smile through gritted teeth, hold your tongue when he inevitably said something infuriating, and pretend you were above it all.

You had months to prep yourself though. Plenty of time to make sure that nothing Jungkook could do could piss you off.

Nothing that weekend will surprise you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

❥ || Next Chapter

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[willalove75]

I swear I'm almost done with the next chapter of Alcina's New Maid but domestic!Alcina has had me in a fucking chokehold and I need to braindump this so I can move on😅

Tags: smut, tooth-rotting fluff, idk I think that's it if I missed anything lmk it's 3am and I'm exhausted lmao

Warnings: None.

A/N: I finished this at 3am and didn't proof-read it so please kindly ignore any errors. Maybe I'll edit this tomorrow, maybe not. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

18+ Only Minors DNI

"I thought I told you to stay still." Alcina growls in your ear.

"You're taking so long!" You say with a groan, throwing your head back into the pillows.

"Shh." She says as she kisses up and down the side of your neck. "Let me enjoy being buried inside of you."

"Alcinaaa." You whine. "It's not even a real dick! You're just torturing me!"

"I'm imagining what it would feel like if it were real, my love. Your warm, wet cunt clenching around me, my hard cock throbbing deep inside of you." She says, dragging her teeth along your earlobe.

You whine out in protest once more, desperate for her to make any kind of movement. In defiance, you try and rock your hips into her but she stops you, grabbing hold of you and pushing them back down into the bed.

"Fine, I'll just pull all the way out then and we can go downstairs and watch a movie instead." She says as she begins to pull her hips away from yours.

"No!" You shout, crossing your ankles behind her hips and pulling her back into place. She falls back into you without putting up a fight, a knowing smirk crossing her lips as you wrap your arms around her neck so your bodies are flush against one another.

"So needy." She murmurs as she kisses along your jawline.

"For you? Always." Alcina smirks into your skin and continues to kiss every inch. "Please, just stop torturing me!"

"And what if I want to fuck you into the mattress? Or blow your back out?" She asks, nibbling on your neck causing your eyes to flutter shut.

"Yes! Please, anything!"

"What if I want to fuck you softly and just make love to you all night long?"

"You can have me any way you want me baby, just please fuck me!" You say as she lifts her head and looks into your eyes. A glint of excitement shimmering in her gorgeous grey irises.

"Any way?" She asks and you nod your head in response, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. "Mm, that's a dangerous promise draga mea. You spoil me."

"No more than you spoil me." You say before she presses her lips into yours.

Threading your fingers in her hair, you deepen the kiss as you pull her closer. Alcina leans down onto her forearms and slides her hands under your shoulders, pressing you further into her. Her tongue caresses your lips and you part them, eagerly inviting her into your mouth.

While she has you distracted with her skillful tongue she begins to rock her hips, causing you to sigh a moan of relief into her mouth. Thrusting at a steady pace, you keep your legs locked around her; the need to keep her as close as possible is just as strong as the need for her to fuck you.

Alcina pulls her lips from yours before you both run out of oxygen, the two of you gasping for air. Her hot breath comes out in pants against your skin and she buries her face into your neck before picking up the pace, fucking you faster and harder. The long strap sinks deeper into you as you roll your hips to meet each one of her delicious thrusts, causing both of you to moan. Each time you meet her thrust the back of the strap grinds against her clit and presses perfectly into your g-spot.

After one perfectly timed roll of your hips you hear Alcina moan into your shoulder and you let out a huff of pride.

"What?" She asks as she continues pounding into you.

"Nothing, I'm just glad you're enjoying this as much as I am." You say between pants.

"Mm, I always enjoy you, dragostea mea."

Sex with Alcina has always been mind-blowing, ever since the first time you slept together. Before you met you had your fair share of lovers, but you never felt such passion, such intense pleasure with anyone until her. From the very first date it felt like she put you under a spell. Never before have you met someone so alluring, so beautiful, someone who made things seem so impossibly easy. You had promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't sleep with anyone on the first few dates; but with Alcina, you found yourself tangled with her in her silk bedsheets only after the second date. The two of you pulled countless orgasms from each other all night long and to your surprise, instead of her kicking you out when it was over, she invited you into her shower and pulled you back into bed with her to stay the night. Part of you wanted to turn down her offer, fearful that you would wake up in this near-strangers home alone the next morning. But you saw the look in her eyes, the way she gently took her bottom lip between her teeth, looking almost bashful and all thoughts of turning her down fled your mind. So with her arms tightly wrapped around you, the two of you fell into a deep sleep.

When you woke up the next morning you were almost uncomfortably cold. It was then you realized it was because Alcina stole almost all of the covers, leaving you with just the corner of the bedsheet for warmth. As gently as you could, (it took more effort than you were expecting), you pried the comforter from her and curled into her warm body. She responded with a groan and a slight shiver, mumbling out "you're cold." in her half-asleep state.

"Well you did steal all the covers." You replied.

Alcina chuckled and rolled over to face you, with half-lidded eyes she held out her arms towards you, encouraging you into them.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled. "Come, let me help you warm up."

The two of you were almost hesitant towards the amount of intimacy you were showing each other so soon, but you curled into her and she wrapped her arms around you anyway. She jerked when your cold hands rested against her back and you immediately pulled them away with an apology. Taking your cold hands into hers, she held them in one of her large hands close to her chest while she brushed your hair out of your face with the other before threading her fingers through and resting it at the back of your head. Her legs found yours under the covers and she began to tangle them together, jerking once more when your ice cold feet met her skin.

Mumbling another apology, she shook her head at you and responded "no need for apologies, it is my fault after all. What a terrible host I am, leaving you to freeze in my bed. I should have warned you, I have a habit of being a cover hog."

Her morning voice was deeper and raspier than usual, as attractive as it was (and it was attractive) you also found it comforting. It was something you could listen to all day and never get bored of.

"It's alright, you seem to be making up for it now." You say as the two of you snuggle into each other.

"I could also make it up to you in other ways as well." She says, a smirk evident in her voice.

"I also wouldn't be opposed to that." You say, gazing into her sleepy, lust-filled eyes.

Alcina softly kisses you and rests her chin on top of your head.

"More sleep first, repayment later."

As you fell back asleep in her arms, you realized that you could wake up like this every morning for the rest of your life and never want anything else. At first the thought terrified you, you had only met this woman one other time, how delusional were you to think something like that? You did your best to push it out of your mind for as long as possible. However, every time you saw each other, every time you spoke, the word "love" always seemed to be lurking close by. It wasn't until months after you made your relationship official did you find out that on that particular morning, the same thought crossed Alcina's mind too.

That second date was years ago now, since then the two of you got married and you gave birth to your three beautiful daughters. Much to your delight, the passion between the two of you never faded - if anything, the fire burned brighter over time. Of course there were fights and disagreements, but the love you two shared always outweighed the bad. And the sex? Forget it. Once you had a taste of her you never needed anything from anyone else ever again. It was passionate, hard, rough, experimental at times, it was beautiful and full of love and no matter what direction it went in, there was always room for a little laughter and playfulness. It was something you've never had before and you cherished it more than anything.

Never in your life could you have imagined loving someone as much as you love Alcina. The thought could make your heart burst.

Hot kisses across your jaw and cheek accompanied by a deep, hard thrust brought you back into the moment. A low moan pulled from your lips.

"Where did you go there, draga?" Alcina asks with a husky voice.

She pulls back to look you in the eyes, examining your face to make sure you're okay. Her thrusts didn't falter, but you saw the concern in her eyes and the little crinkle that formed between her eyebrows when she was worried. Her grey-blue eyes shimmered and she nearly took your breath away.

Your lips parted but no words came out, your chest filling with love for the woman on top of you. Her hips began to slow and you held her tighter against you, silently encouraging her to continue.

"I - I was just thinking about how much I love you. How grateful I am for you." Pulling her closer, you brush your lips against hers. "I love you, Alcina. With everything I have."

Alcina's breath hitches in her chest and you can feel the stutter against yours. Pulling her down, your lips nearly crash together and both of your hips pick up the pace as they grind against each other. Her nails bury themselves into your shoulder blades while you reach down and grab her ass with one hand, pushing her deeper into you, and grab hold of the hair on the back of her head with the other.

The two of you swallow each others moans before parting for air again, panting and whimpering into each other as you both race to the edge.

"I love you, draga mea. I love you so much." She whimpers into your ear as you two continue to fuck each other.

Each time one of you moans a little too loudly the other one tries to shush you, fearful that your daughters will hear the unsavory noises coming from the bedroom. Your bodies glide along each other as a layer of sweat develops between you, which only spurs you both on more. Your ankles uncross to allow harder thrusts from Alcina, but you squeeze her hips between your thighs to keep her as close as possible.

Her groans rumble deep in her chest while your whimpers get higher, signaling to each other that you're both getting close.

"Fuck, Alcina, just like that."

"You're gonna make me come. I know how close you are, aren't you?" She asks, to which you respond with only a whimper. "Mph, fuck yes, I want you to come with me baby."

"Yes, oh god yes!"

Both of your movements become less calculated and more frantic, desperate to push each other over the edge. The orgasm you've built grows stronger and stronger before you're both fucking each other wildly, chasing your own and each others orgasms at the same time.

"Alci - I'm - I'm gonna -"

"Yes, yes baby yes!"

The grip you have on one another tightens as you both go flying over the edge together, tumbling down into a ravine of absolute pleasure. The strap sinks deep into your g-spot and your back arches off the bed, your eyes roll back into your head as you let out a silent scream. Alcina buries her face into the side of your neck, muffling her groan of release as the explosion from her bundle of sensitive nerves shoots through her body. Your bodies become one as you share your release. Limbs trembling around one another, nails biting deeply into skin, hips riding out the remainder of your orgasms, both for your own sakes and for each others. You swear you can feel Alcina's heart beating against your chest and you're sure she can feel yours as well.

As the waves of pleasure relent the two of you still your movements and the clouds in your mind slowly fade away, leaving the two of you panting against one another. The two of you lay in your post-orgasmic bliss for a few moments in silence, enjoying the feeling of your bodies pressed impossibly close together as the strap is still buried deep within you. Alcina's nails leave your shoulders, no doubt leaving little crescent shaped marks behind, as yours release from being buried in her ass cheek - positive you've left a matching set on her skin as well.

Alcina presses soft kisses into your shoulder and neck as you hold each other tight before she sits up enough to capture your lips in a loving kiss. With your attention on her lips, she gently slides the strap out, eliciting you to groan into her mouth. The wet silicone lays against your stomach as Alcina continues to kiss you. Before she pulls away completely she looks deeply into your eyes. Just from the way she's looking at you, you know exactly what she wants to say. Even though she doesn't have to, she says "I love you, draga mea. More than I ever have and ever could love anyone else. You make me the luckiest woman on this earth."

"You make me the luckiest woman on this earth. I love you so much, Alci."

The following morning you wake up to an empty bed, which isn't unusual since Alcina tends to wake at the crack of dawn. What you weren't expecting, however, was for the girls to be seated at the kitchen table and for breakfast to be made when you get downstairs. At ages nine and ten, Cassandra and Bela are happily eating their pancakes and waffles while your six year old, Daniela, is seated next to Alcina who is helping her cut into her waffle.

"Well this is a lovely surprise." You say as you walk over to Alcina and bend down to kiss her.

Bela and Cassandra make audible noises of disgust which are quickly silenced by one look from their mother.

"Sit down my love, eat." Alcina says as she gets up and makes you your morning cup of tea. She places a kiss at the top of your head after handing you your mug and returns to assisting Daniela.

It was a wonderfully pleasant breakfast with minimal arguing between the girls and much to your surprise, minimal mess as well.

The girls start to get themselves ready for school and Alcina gets herself ready for work while you wash off the dishes and place them in the dishwasher. Alcina walks up behind you, snaking her arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your cheek before resting her chin on your shoulder. She begins to gently sway back and fourth while she hums and you let out a giggle as you try to finish the dishes.

Alcina reaches in front of you and turns off the sink as her swaying continues.

"What on earth are you doing?" You say with a laugh, grabbing the dish towel and drying your hands.

Spinning you around, Alcina takes one of your hands in hers and places the other on your waist. She expertly leads you in a slow dance while her humming turns into her softly singing. Laying your head on her chest, the two of you bask in the spontaneous romantic moment she's created. For just a few moments, the world fades away and it's just the two of you - you and your wife, the love of your life, enjoying the peacefulness of each others embrace.

The moment doesn't last long - with three young kids and a business to run it never does. But for the few moments you both were able to get lost in another world together, you find yourself falling in love with Alcina over and over again.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 3

Source for pic

Trouble 3

Word Count: 4959

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I should have chapter 4 already finished... but it's not completed yet... I haven't written almost anything this week! I know with the hollidays it will be hectic around here, but I have a few days where the office is going to be closed, so maybe I can write a bit more! Fingers crossed! Until then, please enjoy the calmness before the storm!

Masterlist

“Morning, Bug.” Shanks fills a mug of coffee for you and sets it down on the table near your plate of bacon and eggs, beside a bouquet of wildflowers. 

“Morning, Dad. Thanks for the coffee, but aren't the flowers a bit too much? It's not my birthday…” You mumble between yawns. 

“They're not from me…” Shanks smirks and nods at a note that's tucked in with the silk ribbon. 

Brow rising, your fingers brush the petals of a deep crimson poppy before they catch the note between them. ‘Wild and beautiful, just like you.’

What? Who? 

Despite the lovely gesture, you can't shake the slightest feeling of unease, it tugs at your stomach, leaving you queasy and suspicious. 

“Who's it from?” Shanks tries to hide his curiosity but falls short when he reaches over your shoulder to glimpse the note. 

“I have no idea.”

“Come on! Not even the slightest hint?” You shake your head while your mind conjures up images of a slightly not-safe-for-work dream you had with a certain green-haired cop, and you blush unintentionally. 

Obviously. Shanks picks it up. 

“You and Zoro seemed pretty cosy when I arrived yesterday…”

“It's not from him… I think.” You deflect the implications, not wanting to read too much into it yourself. “He’s not the type for grand gestures.”

Shanks hums in agreement while placing his coffee cup in the sink. “I see what you mean.” But then he places his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look at his unbearable smirk. “Though do not underestimate a man in love.”

“Dad!” You feel your ears getting hot as you get up suddenly, looking for a vase to set the flowers on. 

“I’m just saying.” He shrugs. 

“He’s not… we… we’re just friends! I just got back.” You fuss with the flowers until they’re all spread beautifully on the vase and then set them at the centre of the table.

Shanks pouts and stares at you through the flowers, across from you. “Friends.” He air quotes with two fingers. “I’ve been there, Bug.”

“Agh! You’re impossible, Dad.”

But he might also be right. Because if last night was any indication, you and Zoro might be crossing the ‘just friends’ barrier soon. 

And, honestly, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

-*-

Shanks tells you to put a hold on your job hunt because he’ll be gone for about three weeks to a month for a horse show on an island in the South Blue and he’ll need you to take care of the animals and manage the farm chores. 

So you spend the next week getting reacquainted with most of your father’s tasks in addition to the ones you had taken over ever since coming back. 

The gifts keep coming. 

Every morning there are chocolates, or flowers, or stuffed animals, little trinkets… The notes are rather simple, always evoking your beauty, but short and nondescript. You are no closer to knowing who they’re from now than you were on the first day you got them.

Shanks keeps hinting that it might be Zoro, but you doubt that very much. Besides the fact that he’s not one for romantic gestures, he would’ve said something about the gifts after six straight days.

And it’s not like you haven’t been chatting… not in person, since you’ve been busy at the farm and he’s been pulling double shifts to have the Saturday off again, but you text every day.

Short texts, to the point, much like Zoro is, but he always asks how you are and if you need anything. 

And knowing he’s trying to take care of you leaves a very warm feeling in your chest. Especially because your clumsiness almost brought you to the clinic twice just this week. You have to thank whichever deity is watching over you because, even though you hurt yourself, it’s never serious enough to send you to the hospital. 

“When are you leaving?” You ask Shanks while packing beverages, muffins and a cake you���ve baked for today’s chosen group activity. 

“Let’s see, today’s Saturday, Beckman says his helper will arrive Monday morning to keep in charge of his farm, so sometime Monday afternoon, Bug. Why? Missing your Daddy already?”

You are.

“No! I just want to make sure you carry all of your medicine and that you have Dr. Law’s emergency contact with you, in case you need it–”

“I’m not going to drag Law all the way to the South Blue just because–”

“I called him and he said you should call anytime, so you’re going to call if you need him!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Shanks has got to be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. 

“Where are you going?” He hisses when you swat his hand away as he tries to steal a salty bacon muffin you’re storing in a container. Then you relent and let him have it.

“Just one, Dad! We’re going on a picnic in the park.” You say with a grin. “Nami organised it, of course. We’re going to spend the day hanging out, playing games, and socializing.” 

Shanks nods, never breaking your gaze, while trying to surreptitiously steal another muffin. This time you slap his hand with the lid of the container, and he yelps. His pout is quickly replaced by a smirk. “Is Officer Zoro going?”

You’re sure your nonchalant look can’t disguise the crimson blush tainting your cheeks, but you try to pay it no mind.  “Yes. And Luffy, and Usopp, Chopper, Sanji–”

“I was going to tell you to be careful, but I’m sure Officer Zoro is going to keep you safe from all harm.” Shanks taunts and you seethe, hands flying to your hips. 

“What are you, Dad, ten?” He guffaws as he successfully manages to distract you and steals another muffin before sprinting away from you and the kitchen.

“Be safe, Bug! Have fun!”

Seriously. How is this man a father?

-*-

Nami swings by your house with Vivi to pick you up for the picnic. You notice Robin’s absence in the car, and both girls giggle.

“Sabo’s picking Robin up. They’ll meet us there.” Vivi answers, and your mouth hangs open.

“Are they a thing?”

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be long.” Nami laughs as she fixes her hair in the rearview mirror while waiting for the light to turn green. “Much like you and Zoro, I think.”

You choke on your own saliva, and it takes you a good minute to regain proper breathing functions, all while Nami and Vivi erupt into cackles and giggles. 

“We’re just friends!” You say after you’ve caught your breath.

“Sure, honey. We all believe that.” Vivi turns on the front seat to pat your knee in a condescending manner while you blush. 

“There’s so much heat coming off you two whenever you’re close that I don’t know how you still haven’t spontaneously combusted.” Nami quips, and you purse your lips. She’s not wrong there. “I mean, you’ve always sort of clicked, but now… daaaaamn!”

You sigh and bite your lip, trying to contain a giggle from erupting. “Who else is going to meet us there?” You ask, changing the subject and Nami shakes her head, knowing all too well what you’re doing, but not pressing on the matter. 

-*-

It’s a beautiful day for a picnic, and the park is the perfect setting for the beginning of a wonderful midday. There are rows and rows of trees, shade galore, small cobblestone pathways for long walks, and even a small creek providing a soft lull alongside the soft giggles of children. 

You and the girls are setting up rows of blankets on the grass, by the shade of the tall trees, when the group begins to arrive. You lift your head, hand sheltering your eyes from the sun, and scan the crowd. Luffy, Barto, Usopp, Kaya, and Chopper are approaching the treeline. They probably rode together.

A slight breeze dishevels your hair as your eyes linger behind, but there’s no green mane of hair in sight yet. An absent sigh leaves your lips before you spy Nami’s knowing smirk aimed your way.

She doesn’t say anything, but you blush anyway. Her unspoken words linger around you like a thick fog. You are eager to see Zoro. She knows it, you know it, hell, anyone who saw you two interact lately knows it. 

But you vow to retain some semblance of dignity and pretend to fuss over the blankets and small folding chairs. You’re so absorbed in your task that you don’t even see him approach.

“Hey there, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

The smile that graces your lips is instant and unstoppable. You turn slightly and bite your lower lip when your eyes meet his. Why does every shirt he wears seem so tight against his muscles?

“Hardly! I’m just setting up chairs!” But as you deliver the words, the chair you were opening snaps shut, almost catching your fingers, and you yelp. 

“You’re a menace.” His tone is both amused and resigned, almost as if he knew something of the kind would happen, was expecting it, even. 

“It attacked me!” You defend yourself weakly, a giggle bubbling up in your chest because he is right. You are a menace.

Zoro ends up helping you set the chairs, and you don’t even try to stop him. Both because you’re very likely to end up either hurting yourself or breaking a chair, and because he keeps brushing his shoulders and hands with yours, and the touch is welcomed. 

Robin and Sabo arrive with flushed cheeks - you can almost see Nami registering that fact for later probing - and soon after, Franky and Brook, two older men you still haven’t met but Luffy quickly introduces you to, saying they’re also part of the gang. 

You see Sanji already setting up food on the blankets, and he greets you warmly. “Hi, Sanji. You rode with Mosshead?”

“Oi?” Zoro snaps, and you ignore him.

“I did, Madame, and it was the most unpleasant ride of my life. Please remind me not to do it again.”

You giggle when Zoro’s brows knit together, his hands clenched into fists. “Tch, shitty cook, next time you ride with me, it will be in my patrol car and I’ll be dragging you straight to prison.”

Sanji starts to fume, his pursed lips crumpling the cigarette dangling from his lips, and you grimace. “Hey, hey, boys, it was just a joke!”

Nami sighs as they butt heads and continue arguing. “Never mind that.” She tells you. “Any chance they get to get up close and personal, they take it. They have a weird bromance thing going on.” She raises her hands defensively in the air. “I swear, for a moment there I thought they were going to be a thing, but Sanji loves women too much and Zoro is a man with a goal-oriented mind. Even if it’s someone he set his sights on a lifetime ago.”

Your brow raises at her as she smirks that all-knowing smirk. But she leaves it at that and stands in the middle of the boys, dragging Sanji by the scruff of his dress shirt, telling him the girls are hungry, which promptly sets him back to the task of setting up the food. 

“Shitty cook…” You hear Zoro mumble as he sets his hands in his pockets and kicks a blade of grass. It’s cute how flustered he gets. Then his eye sets on you and he frowns with a low grumble. “Oi, I didn’t forget you called me Mosshead.”

You set a hand on your heart, feigning repentance. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Mosshead. I forgot your title.”

“Trouble…” He lowers his tone in mock warning, and you smile, taking a step back, hands in a defensive stance. 

“Lord Moss, Knight–” Your antics are cut short by a piercing yelp when Zoro jumps and tries to catch you, but somehow, you swerve away from his grasp and start to run, an unbridled laugh filling your lungs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was just joking!”

“Repentance doesn’t dissolve the crime! Come here, Trouble!” He sprints, though you suspect he’s hardly even trying, and you cackle, running faster, the voices of the group fading into the distance. 

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Maybe you should’ve measured your words, because as soon as he hears the challenging tone in your voice, he sprints faster, and you barely have time to breathe before his arm wraps around your waist and he swirls you in the air, making you scream and laugh before he pulls your back against his chest.

Heart pounding against your ribs, cheeks flushed from running and breath catching in your throat, you feel your legs shaking when Zoro’s warm breath tickles your neck. “Gotcha.” He whispers, and you notice he’s not even out of breath while you look like you ran a marathon. 

The world dissolves into just this moment. The chirping of the birds and the rustling of the trees are nothing but background noise to the deafening pounding in your chest and the buzzing in your ears. 

Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch Zoro’s eye fixed on you, a wild smirk on his lips. “What now, officer? Are you going to arrest me?”

Damn. That was supposed to come out playfully, not sultrily. Right?

“Depends.” Did his voice get huskier? “Are you going to resist arrest, Trouble?”

You feel your throat bobbing up and down at all the wild fantasies running through your mind. The way he uses that nickname manages to send shivers down your spine and heat straight into your core. 

“Obviously.” You sound breathless, and it's a good thing you can blame that sorry state on the run, or you wouldn't know how to explain it. 

“Figures.” He chuckles low, and you feel it rumbling in his chest. Then, with a swift movement, he turns you, bends his knees, and hoists you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Wha–”

“Let's go.” Your flush deepens as you feel his strong hand against the back of your thighs, holding you in place. “The humiliation will teach you not to call me Mosshead.”

“Come on, Zo, I said I was sorry!” You whine, and he stiffens, his pace slowing for a beat, and you feel his shoulders shake slightly. Then he resumes his pace. 

“I like that.”

You stop pounding your fists against his back and raise your brow. “What? Me apologizing?”

He grunts and keeps walking, the blanket and your laughing friends nearly in sight. “That nickname. Way better than Mosshead.”

Oh! Zo! Another small blush creeps into your cheeks, but before you can reply, Nami whistles. “What you got there, Zoro?”

You hear your friends laughing and bury your face in your hands, feeling mortified. “Someone’s been naughty.” Zoro replies with a smirk and an edge of amusement in his tone. 

“Seriously?” You grumble, pushing against his back to try and wiggle out of his embrace, though it’s all for naught because he has an iron grip on your legs. 

“Well, either set her down so we can all eat or take her to naughty jail and punish her. Away from our sight, please.” 

“Nami!” You yell, exasperated, but Zoro merely chuckles, swerving right as if changing directions. 

“Naughty jail it is, then.”

“No, no!” You whimper. “I’m sorry!” Chopper stares at both of you, not sure if you’re being serious, so you try to take advantage of him and stretch your hand. “Help me, Chopper!”

He reaches his hand out before Nami swats it away. “Let them be, Chopper. They need some alone time.”

You seethe at Nami, a pout on your lips. “Traitor.”

Zoro lets out a low chuckle before settling you down at the edge of the blanket. “Learned your lesson, Troublemaker?”

You steady yourself, hands against his chest, and a permanent blush tattooed on your cheeks. “Damn you. I’m never calling you Mosshead again. You won.”

“I see you’re a fast learner.” His smirk is impossibly smug. “Zo’s fine, though.” Then he turns his back on you, opens the small cooler, and takes out a beer, cracking it open with one hand and chugging at it without another look back at you. 

And, damn it, if that doesn’t mess with your heart.

-*-

“Who wants another drink?” You ask and count the raised hands before getting up, heading towards the cooler to satiate your friends’ thirst. Zoro moves his hand before you reach it, and smooths the blanket before you can trip on its raised edge.

You smile at him, but he’s not even looking at you. His eye is shut, one arm behind his neck as he leans against the tree, though you know very well he’s attentive to everything. You pass the drinks around, then return to get your own.

“Watch your head.” Zoro mumbles, and you raise your brow but don’t heed his advice and, therefore, hit a low branch of the tree, releasing a string of curses while rubbing your forehead. “When are you going to start listening to me, Trouble?”

“When you stop sounding like a smug jerk.” You mouth, annoyed at his attentiveness and at how he seems to perceive danger before you even realise it’s there. He chuckles and you retrieve your drink, returning to your seat.

After a while of relaxing in the shade, Luffy drags everyone to a frisbee game. The boys are all down to play, but the girls just sit by a bench near the open space the boys chose to throw the frisbee and tackle each other. 

You sit on the back of the bench, a case of water bottles by your feet because you know the boys will be thirsty soon. Vivi sits on the grass in front of Nami’s legs, and Robin and Kaya are on the bench. 

After a small chit-chat about meaningless stuff, you decide to bring up something that’s been bothering you. “So I’ve been getting a lot of gifts lately…”

Four heads whip your way, and you sigh, already expecting that reaction and the bombardment of questions that follow. So you raise your hands, and they stop to let you continue. Though you decide to focus on the game in front of you instead of the way they’re all staring at you.

You especially focus on a very athletic green-haired man who constantly gazes up to where you are before focusing back on the game. 

“It’s flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals… It started last weekend, after the party at Luffy’s. They have notes, but nothing personal. No name, no nothing… I don’t know who they’re from, and I don’t even know if I should be flattered or freaked out by them.”

“How do they make you feel?” Robin asks, and you shrug, not quite knowing how to answer that question.

“The first ones made me feel good. I thought they were from– I thought I might know who they were from. But since he didn’t say anything about it, I doubt they're from him. So now they just feel weird…”

“Honey, we all know you’re talking about Zoro.” Nami says in a very condescending manner, and all the girls agree.

You sigh and bury your face in your hands. You’re so obvious it hurts. 

“Fine, yes. I thought they might’ve come from him, at first. But he’s not one for romantic gestures.”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” Nami quipped back, a smirk tugging her lips as her eyes fell back on the game. Sure enough, Zoro’s eyes are back on the bench - on you, to be more specific. “I think it’s quite romantic the way he’s always checking to see if you’re safe. Keeping you away from trouble and making sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

A small blush creeps its way into your cheeks. It is quite romantic. “That’s just Zoro being Zoro. He’s a cop. He protects and serves.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure he would like to serve you.” Nami giggles and all the girls try to stifle their own laughs. “But you’re wrong about that. Sure, he’s always attentive to any kind of threats, but it’s different with you.”

“What do you mean?” You can’t stop the way your heart pounds maddeningly against your sternum. 

“She means that Zoro doesn’t usually go out of his way to keep people from tripping on stuff or from bumping their head. And with you, he’s always extra careful.” Robin finishes with a small smile. 

“Like the way he’s playing now, but keeps looking at you to see if you’re still in one piece. It’s like he’s expecting you to spontaneously combust or something.” Kaya adds with a giggle. 

“It’s very endearing.” Vivi finishes, and your blush deepens, so you bury your head back into your hands, stifling a loud groan. 

“But you’re still right.” Nami continues as if you’re not breaking down in front of them. “I don’t think he’s the one leaving the gifts…” She laughs suddenly. “But there’s one way to tell for sure.”

You raise your head from your hand cocoon to tell her to keep her mouth shut, but Zoro is already halfway to the bench and you squeak. “Nami…”

“Hey, Zoro!” She starts with a wave of her hand. You see Zoro raise his eyebrow at her, his long strides bringing him closer to the bench. 

Shit.

He’s sweaty all over. Fat droplets of perspiration drop from his temples to his perfect jawline and neck, and you gulp, feeling hot and bothered. So, it comes as no surprise that when he reaches his hand to grab a bottle between your legs, you lose your balance and fall back on the bench.

Yelping, you expect to hit the floor with a dry thud, air escaping your lungs and sharp pain blinding you. Instead, you feel a strong hand wrap around your forearm and tug hard, then your face being squished against a muscular, sweaty chest.

Zoro saved you from an ugly fall. Again.

“Seriously, Trouble? Why?” His voice is gravelly and rough, but with an edge of exasperation lacing it. “I’m starting to feel like I have to be with you 24/7 or you’re going to end up in the hospital.”

Your breath is still leaving your lips in ragged gasps because of the slight scare of facing an inevitable fall, and your face is still pressed against Zoro’s chest. You feel the girls’ gaze on both of you and Zoro seems completely unfazed by it, while saying you’re embarrassed would be the understatement of the year.

So you disentangle yourself from the predicament that is Zoro’s muscles and laugh it off, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “Ah, thank you. I got… distracted.”

“By what?” He asks while taking a sip of water.

“Well, Zoro,” Nami begins, and he shifts his focus to her, “we were discussing who could be her secret admirer, and then you showed up. Curious.”

“Secret admirer?” Zoro’s gaze falls back on you, his brow scrunched.

“Ah, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just–”

“She’s been getting gifts. Flowers, chocolates, love declarations…” Why is Nami exaggerating? Is she trying to fish for information or make Zoro jealous? “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with it, would you?”

He drinks the water in three long gulps before answering, his scowl now permanently etched on his lips. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would do that?”

You look down and bite your lower lip. You knew it wasn’t him, but maybe, secretly, there was still a little part of you that hoped he could be showering you with that kind of attention. 

“Well, I just thought–” Nami begins, but she’s swiftly interrupted by Zoro, whose eyes can’t seem to leave your figure.

“When I want someone, I make it clear I’m interested. You’ll know.” He finishes drinking the water just as your eyes meet his, and the fire burning there scalds and melts. Was he telling you he’s interested? Was he saying he’s about to make a move?

With a smirk, he turns his back, grunts a gruff ‘try not to fall again, Trouble’, and gets back to the game, leaving you more confused than ever. 

“Did he–” Nami starts.

“Nobody says anything. We’re going to act like nothing happened.” You mumble before getting up and chugging down an entire bottle of water yourself to try and calm your nerves.

It doesn’t work.

-*-

The frisbee game makes everyone tired - and hungry - so, after all the bellies are filled again, the crew is relaxing in the blanket, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon and the lulling sounds of the park. 

Chopper, Usopp, Luffy, and Barto are enjoying a card game. Franky seems interested, but he’s only overseeing and throwing advice that only seems to make Usopp lose the game. Robin has a book in her hands and Sabo’s head on her lap, his eyes closed with a blissful smile on his lips. 

You have serious doubts that she's paying attention to the book, especially since she seems to be stuck on the same page for over ten minutes, but you don’t say anything. Kaya is braiding Vivi’s hair and Nami is snapping photos of the crew, taking little candid shots with her cellphone. Brook is gracing everyone with a nice, mellow song on his violin - he's a wonderful musician - and Zoro seems to be sleeping peacefully, leaning against the tree.

Everything seems peaceful, quiet, and idyllic. 

But you can’t seem to shake the feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. It’s like someone is watching you, but you can’t quite pinpoint who or where. It’s a prickling on your neck, something you’re already growing so used to that you start to think you should have this checked out by a doctor. 

With a heavy sigh, you stand up, stretching your arms to justify that action. “I’ll be back soon.” You say softly to Nami, who’s closer to you and she nods. Then, you look around before taking a step. The park is one big open space - with the exception of some trees here and there - except for the dense treeline behind you. 

So that’s where you’re headed. 

-*-

Zoro senses you getting up and opens his eye slowly, following you with his gaze and scowling when you don’t see the tree root sticking out and stumble a little before steadying your pace. 

You’re such a damn klutz.

And damn it, if he doesn’t want to be there to catch you and protect you from everything. 

His heart constricts slightly at the thought, and he sighs softly. He thought absence had made him forget how he felt about you. He even had some ‘relationships’ while you were away. Wait… can he really call something that never went past three months a real relationship? He never truly bonded with those women. Never truly cared.

No one ever made him feel the way you did.

The way you do.

But time and distance did nothing but make him pine harder for you. When Nami told him casually that you were returning, he almost didn’t believe her. You didn’t even come back for any of the holidays or to say ‘hi’, let alone come back for good after experiencing life in the big city. 

But you returned.

And then he thought he wouldn’t quite forgive you for having literally abandoned them. No text, no email, no letter, nothing. He would be salty, at least. Grumpy and upset, at most.

But he forgave you instantly. 

One look at your dishevelled form, chasing a goddamned tire with dirt all over your clothes and face, and he was a lovestruck teenager again. 

Fucking heart, what a useless organ. 

All those thoughts forgotten, he simply reached out. And you reached back, almost like no time had passed between you, and you could basically continue your story where you left off. 

And he was willing to try.

Though he didn’t want to rush too fast - damn Nami should just stop intruding and let you two figure things out yourselves. He’d get there. He almost kissed you already, so the feeling is mutual. 

He’s got time.

Sitting up, he watches as you peek behind trees, a cautious demeanour to your posture making him raise his brow. What the hell are you doing?

“Just go to her, dumbass.”

“Shut up, Witch. Mind your own business.”

Nami sticks her tongue out at him and snaps a picture of his grouchy face before turning her phone towards you and snapping another candid shot. 

“You look like a lost puppy in love. It’s cute, you know? The way you keep looking out for her.” Zoro feels his ears heat up and leans back again, trying to close his eye and return to a state of relaxation, but he can’t very well do that when you’re doing God-knows-what near the trees, looking creepily at everywhere and everything. “Just make sure you make your move soon… or maybe that secret admirer will one-up you and poof!” She makes an exploding gesture with her hand, and Zoro scowls at her. 

“You’re insufferable.” He quips before getting up and dusting his jeans.

“Word of the day? How smart of you, Zoro.” She giggles when Zoro passes by her and messes up her hair with his hand, earning an indignant gasp from the orange-haired girl. “I just went to the salon, you brute!”

Zoro smirks at her reaction and starts pacing towards you, Nami’s antics behind him. Well… all except one…

‘Make sure you make your move soon…’

Perhaps he should. He doesn’t want to lose you before even having the chance to have you.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks

|Chapter 4|

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (07)

chapter seven: built to break

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; the gorlies are fighting...?, not much for warnings in this chapter ig word count: 4.3k note: i finally got off my ass and wt is finally back lol. i had a last minute change of plans and thought "oh! you know what would be pretty neat? if we prolong the angst so everyone can be sad for longer!" <3 and this is how i announce that the next chapter is not wt8 but wt7.5 and it's written from his pov <3 merry christmas

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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I’ll hold my breath as I wait for your answer I’ll leave it up to you Tell me whether it’s yes or no Baby, love me or leave me tonight

Love Me or Leave Me - Day6

The warning signs, they're there. You can see them before they materialize. You know your own tells.

Your metaphorical bags are packed, your shoes are already on. You're about to run again, leave a half empty house before it has the chance to become a home. No one has to tell you that you're a flight risk; you're well aware of it yourself.

Wednesday Min: got plans tonight? You: booked and busy with ze old canvas Min: tomorrow? You: same thing probably. sorry Min: u're working hard lately You: yeah this one is just driving me crazy and i need it to turn out decent Min: it'll be perfect. it's u

Thursday Min: running errands at the store Min: want me to bring u anything? that caramel popcorn u like?

Friday Min: don't work too hard. remember to eat

That was three days ago, the last time you'd heard from him after you left him on read. It wasn't a complete lie; this project is driving you kinda crazy and you do need it to end up a decent piece, but you weren't exactly holed up in your apartment to slave over your painting. And you suppose Minho didn't find it all that suspicious because you tend to do this sometimes - disappear for a couple of days and force yourself to focus whenever you had a project to finish, before you come back to everybody again. You've come back to him before; it stands to reason that you'll do it again.

It's been about two weeks since you'd seen him, though the memories of that evening are still fresh in your mind - the evening of the group dinner, when he'd kissed you goodnight and left for his parents' house the following day. True to his words, he did send you pictures of the cats - ones of Soonie wearing a matching hoodie with him, a few of Doongie and Dori napping at the foot of his bed. There was an accompanying text - The kids miss you - along with a frowning emoji, and it made you wonder if what he really meant was I miss you.

You wanted him to miss you, because you missed him too.

The photos brought a smile to your face despite the predicament you found yourself in. A smile that was short lived, a smile that was soon wiped off when you realized your heart shouldn't be swelling with that much affection for him. It shouldn't, but the truth was that it did and you don't know how to live with it.

Love isn't something you've ever learned to hold.

It's beautiful yet full of thorns, and your hands are too clumsy to ever keep it from slipping from your fingers.

You remember when you first met Minho. Freshman year, at some popular senior's house party.

It feels like forever ago when you were just an awkward freshman at orientation who didn't have a single clue on how to make friends. Jess was your first friend in college, and you'll always be grateful that you got along well enough that she adopted you into the group with the rest of the guys.

You didn't cross paths with Minho until you were already acquainted with everyone else. On the night of the party, you remember being enamored with him for those couple of hours, and it wasn't the side effect of too many solo cups of cheap beer. Who in their right mind wouldn't be infatuated with him? He was beautiful, absolutely alluring, and you would always tell him as much.

Back then, he had brown hair, slighter shorter than now but it was tinted with the most gorgeous shade of red. You didn't know much about Minho, only been told that he was pretty quiet and might be off-putting to new people. It was sort of true; that night, you were intimidated by the aura he exuded. Mysterious, couldn't be bothered, didn't seem to give a shit. He looked like a scary little thing, while you were the new kid who was only trying to observe everyone's dynamics, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundary.

To this day, you're still not sure what really happened, how you two immediately clicked and he's been one of the most important parts of your life ever since.

Maybe it was just him. Maybe it's always been him.

Minho, the one who makes you smile when all you want to do is curl up and cry. The one who makes you laugh when you look for joy but the search comes up empty. The one who grounds you every time you lose your way. Your anchor, the safe harbor you can always return to. The light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

You don't know where you stand, don't know where it goes from here now that everything is changing. He told you so himself, that nothing changed for him, but how could he possibly know that everything is changing for you? And it infuriates you to no end because you don't even have anyone to talk about this with. You're the only person whose world is being turned upside down after all.

You can't tell your friends because they can't know about you and Minho. You can't tell Minho because what would you even say? That you think you're in love with him? That the implications of what it means are devastating to you?

For the first time, you regret everything. Kissing him that night, sleeping with him, becoming whatever this is with him. Letting down your guard and falling for him somewhere along the way and you didn't even stop to notice it. You regret all of the decisions you've made up until now, because they've only led you to the point of no return, the point of losing him. You made bad decision after bad decision after bad decision, until you couldn't anymore. All along, there's been no one else to blame but you.

Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but it's inevitable. You will lose him. You are going to lose him.

There's no other ending, no other alternative that you can imagine. You're going to leave because you're a coward and it's what you do best. You ruin things before they get a chance to hurt you. You leave because if you don't leave then you'll be left behind, and you'd rather not bear the brunt of it.

Now, when you think of Minho, the thought is always accompanied by a painful reminder - Nothing changed for him.

When you get to the cafe, Hyunjin and Seungmin are already seated in a corner booth, three drinks in front of them, one of which they'd ordered for you before you arrived.

You slide into the seat next to Hyunjin, smiling at him appreciatively for the drink. There's still over half an hour before you have to walk to your shared class, over half an hour before Seungmin parts ways with you two to do whatever or whoever it is that Seungmin does on his off days.

"I still think it's Nara," Hyunjin says, casually sipping his iced coffee.

"Nara from your Lit class last semester?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I saw them talking at a party once."

"Okay. And?"

"And what? That's it."

"That's... all the evidence you have to back up your claim?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You wave your hands in front of them. "What are you bozos talking about?"

"He’s still trying to figure out who Minho is hooking up with," Seungmin is the one who answers you without missing a beat, then he turns back to Hyunjin. "Anyway, it can't be Nara. She's dating Jaehyun on the basketball team."

The friend next to you flails his arms like a petulant child, like he couldn't have possibly seen this coming, like he was so sure that he had finally solved the mystery. "Great. I'm back to square one again."

You straighten your back and reach for your drink, tentatively gulping down the beverage as if it'll hide the fact that you've gone stiff the second this topic is brought up. You feel bad about it, sure. These are your friends that you're lying to after all. They don't have to look anywhere far; the answer to the secret is right in front of them.

"We're still on about that?" you ask in the calmest, most nonchalant voice you can muster. You usually consider yourself a believable liar (which, to be honest, isn't really a flex at all), but whenever someone mentions this little arrangement between you and Minho that shouldn't be common knowledge for anyone else, you feel like you're been put under a spotlight for the whole world to scrutinize.

"Duh," Hyunjin says. "You know, I'm kinda surprised that you don't know. You two are like, attached at the hip sometimes."

You give him a thoughtless shrug, your hands fiddling with the sticker on the plastic cup as you avoid looking at either of your friends. "Maybe he just wants to keep private things private, y'know? You wouldn't like either if all of us is suddenly all up in your business. And besides, what if it's just casual?"

Hyunjin scoffs. "Please, I'm an open book. I tell you guys everything. I tell you every time I hook up with someone."

"Yeah, but you see, literally no one needs to know that," Seungmin says.

The taller one only scoffs, waving his hands around dismissively in Seungmin's direction before he turns to you. "If it was just casual, would he save her name as - oh my God, I forgot what her contact name is. Freaking bird person or something."

You make a face. "What?"

"Dude, seriously?" Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You forgot one word? Dove? What is the matter with you?"

Perhaps it's the half-hearted teasing judgment in Seungmin's voice that makes Hyunjin take offense and drop the topic. The conversation veers off course when they start bickering like children in the busy cafe. You suppose it works in your favor, but you can't focus. You drown it all out.

Your hand is still on the cup but the sticker has been left alone and forgotten, half peeled off, half still clinging to the plastic underneath the condensation.

The single word repeats itself in your mind, over and over and over again.

The entire time you're in class, you don't really focus on anything. You can't bring yourself to listen to whatever your professor is saying, not after what Hyunjin and Seungmin told you earlier. At some point, your friend has to nudge your shoulder to bring you back down to earth when usually, you're the one who has to remind Hyunjin to pay attention. Class ends soon enough though; time tends to fly by when your mind is lost elsewhere.

"What's wrong with you today?" he asks with his bag slung over his shoulder, slowing down his steps to match your speed as you walk out of the lecture hall together.

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just tired."

"You wanna grab dinner with me and Felix?"

Any other day, you would've agreed in a heartbeat. But today, you want to be alone. Sometimes, you'd rather wallow in your own misery than settle for a temporary distraction.

You're still stuck on the conversation from earlier, on the small detail that Hyunjin and Seungmin had let slip in the cafe.

Dove.

His dove.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's only a nickname that he's assigned to you out of mere platonic fondness, but it makes you conscious about the dove on your own wrist nonetheless, the one that you feel compelled to hide from your friends underneath your long sleeve.

"No, it's okay," you tell Hyunjin. "I'll just go home and sleep it off."

"Okay. I can walk you for a bit," he says. "Just wait with me here. Minho's coming to give me back something he borrowed."

"Minho's coming?" you ask too quickly for it to sound casual. There's a panicked edge that you can hear in your own voice, though you don't think Hyunjin picks it up as he unlocks his phone and types something on the screen.

"Yeah, he was at the library. He's coming over right now, should only be a couple minutes. Then I'll walk back with you."

You shift on your feet uneasily, but you cover it up by rubbing your hands on your arms to pretend like you're just cold. There's no excuse that you could think of that would justify why you can't stand here with Hyunjin for just two more minutes, without giving it away the fact that you're avoiding Minho.

You take in a quiet breath, put on your best brave face. Casual, nonchalant. It's just Minho. Just Minho...

He comes up from behind, where you can't see him. A warm hand gently lands on your shoulder, and it takes everything not to shy away from his touch. It takes even more not to lean into his side.

You've missed it. You've missed him.

"Hey." He smiles at you while Hyunjin only gets a nod in acknowledgment.

"Hey." You return the smile, though you're sure you look a little rigid. You can tell there's an inkling of confusion in his eyes when he senses that your energy is off, but you're thankful he doesn't comment on it, at least not in front of Hyunjin anyway.

You don't notice the paper bag in his other hand until he hands it to your other friend with a simple Thanks, to which Hyunjin just nods along in a silent You're welcome.

"I was going to walk with Y/N for a bit and then meet Felix for food," he tells Minho. "You wanna get burgers with me and Lix?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch. I'll take the walk though."

You didn't plan on being alone with Minho today, even though you knew you had to talk to him eventually. You just thought you had a little more time, at least until you got your shit together and face him with a brave façade.

Minho's hand brushes yours the entire time you walk, and it's nothing if not confusing. It's unbearable, the way your fingers twitch with the urge to intertwine them with his.

It persists even after Hyunjin has waved you goodbye to you two and turned to head wherever he and Felix agreed to meet. You think Minho would hold your hand now that it's just you and him, but he doesn't. He lets your skin continue to brush, lets you suffer alone and wanting in your sunken disappointment.

It has very little to do with him and everything to do with you, the conflicting thoughts inside your head piling up one by one the more time you spend in his presence.

Dove, the brief display of jealousy at Yeonjun's party, the way he looks at you sometimes that you can't really decipher the meaning behind, how he kisses you so tenderly that it can't possibly be strictly platonic. You want these things to all mean something, and yet...

You want him to hold your hand, but you know you'd wave it off if he tries to reach for your fingers. You want him to stop you right then and there to kiss you breathless, just as he had that night two weeks ago, even though you're sure you'd only dodge his lips and push him away. You want to stay, you want to leave. You're terrified of things changing, but you wish that something, anything, would be different for him; that you aren't the only one who's spinning out of control. You love him, but you wish you didn't.

Eventually, Minho asks, "You okay?"

It's not until now that you realize this is the first time you've ever been this quiet around him. You purse your lips, glancing down briefly at your feet as you keep on treading the rest of the way home. "Yeah, all good. I'm just tired," you tell him, visibly unenthusiastic despite the smile you try to fake. "I just need to sleep it off."

"The project stressing you out?"

"I guess, yeah."

"And here I thought maybe you were avoiding me," he says, half a joke, half inquisitive. "Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Were you avoiding me?"

You give him a weird look, one that's meant to be dismissive and call his question ridiculous even though you know you've been caught. And maybe it's the over-the-top glance that you throw his way and the way your pitch goes higher when you reply, "Why would I be avoiding you?" that makes him stop walking.

On the other side of the street, there's a couple of kids in high school uniforms, exchanging shy glances and sharing fond giggles.

Minho calls your name softly, and it's like you're just waiting for the ball to drop. You don't want to turn back and look at him, but what other option do you have? What else is there to do?

You can't decipher the expression on his face. He's still calm, but the air has turned serious, the silence of the mostly empty streets surrounding you only serves as the soundtrack of your impending heartbreak. The tender and innocent laughter fades away when young love moves further and further from where you stand. "What?" you ask with faux nonchalance as you look at him, another attempt at stalling. Biding your time even though a few more minutes aren't going to do any good for your case.

Anyone with half a braincell could tell that clearly it's not the truth, let alone someone who has learned to read you better than the back of his hand. He doesn't look like he believes you, though he doesn't push it, much to your surprise.

"Okay," he says after a moment of studying you, and this should be the part where you heave a sigh of relief because he's letting you off the hook for now, but your chest doesn't feel lighter at all. Your head is clouded with dread, with the anticipation that you're only delaying the inevitable.

You walk the rest of the way in awful silence, because you know that he knows something is wrong. You try your best to appear composed, but he sees right through you. You know he does.

You must look like a frightened animal, one that's about to take off running any second now.

When you reach your building, Minho is quick to keep you with him before you can make up a lame excuse and bolt.

"Hey," he starts, his voice so impossibly gentle that it hurts. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Heavier and heavier, it weighs you down until you feel like your chest is going to collapse. The nerves gnaw on you, clawing into you until you feel your heartbeat quicken, the overwhelming dread simmering low in your belly.

"I know," you say, but deep down, what you're really thinking is, Not this. This is the one thing I can't tell you.

"Is everything okay?"

It's the way that Minho's got his gaze set on you with those deep brown irises, the concern so apparent in them that it hurts you. It's the way he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you - a comforting hand on your shoulder or your back like you're so familiar with - but he has to hold himself back or you might slip away.

It's him, how he always puts you first, how he cares about you in ways that you've never been cared about before. He understands you, he sees you. It feels like it could be love if you let the lines blur just enough.

Is love supposed to hurt? Like this?

Maybe it's not that you don't know how to hold love. Maybe it's because you're not meant to hold it at all. Insignificant, unlovable.

And... it's the reminder that cuts through the dread like the sharpest knife.

You leave his question unanswered, because nothing is okay and you can't tell him any of it. You can't lie to him either, because it's the last thing that you want to do to him.

Instead, you ask, "We're good... right? We're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

You gesture between the two of you, though you're not sure what that's supposed to signify. "Just...," you trail off for a second, hesitant. "Nothing's changed, right?"

Minho doesn't answer right away. He looks at you for a moment, searching for something in your eyes that you can't tell if he's able to find.

He nods, seemingly wistful as he says, "Nothing's changed."

He seems unsure about it, at least more than he was just a few weeks ago when he told you the same thing in your apartment with his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The tug between his brows - though barely noticeable - tells you as much.

Is it because something is different now? Or does he only sound uncertain out of concern, because of you and how you're acting?

Then he continues, "For me, at least."

And there it is.

It's the confirmation this time around that turns you inside out so his simple words could cut into you.

You swallow thickly, put on a smile like you're pleased with his answer even though you're trying your hardest to stop yourself from shaking. Whatever energy you had left is instantly drained from you just because of a few words.

Your sentences get smashed together, tangled up like barbed wire and they only make you bleed when you try to pull them apart. All your nervous tics coming out to play despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. A frustrated hand running through your hair, gripping at the roots a little harshly. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your eyes turning glassy for a split second before you blink the moisture away, because you can't let Minho see you like this. See you trying to keep your pathetic heart intact while he's none the wiser.

He's fine. And unlike you, he's going to be okay when this is over.

Unavoidable and inevitable, the end will come whether you like it or not. You're the only one who won't make it out unscathed, and it will only shatter you into more pieces the longer you drag this out.

Just rip the bandaid off. Salvage whatever you can. Stop digging the grave even deeper for yourself.

One second, then two, then three. You don't speak until you have enough faith that your voice is even enough to carry out a few sentences.

"Okay, uhm... I think I need some time for myself. We should..." But it isn't, and you crack halfway through. The sound is deafening to your own ears. "We should take a break. We should stop this."

Minho doesn't question if you mean the secret between the two of you, or your friendship entirely. Instead, he asks, "Why?"

"I told you." You clear your throat. "I need time for myself."

You can't tell what he's thinking, but the knife twists inside of you nonetheless.

He takes a step closer, you take a step back.

You watch as his face falls, and the same feeling mirrors itself within the confines of your ribcage. Your heart drops at the sight of his eyes, deep brown irises stained with a little confusion, then a little hurt though it lasts for only a few seconds. The slight slump of his shoulders, the absence of the familiar playfulness he always sports when he's with you.

He blinks.

"Time for yourself, or time away from me?"

You say nothing.

You don't address his question directly, and your reluctance to do so is a loud enough answer in and of itself. "Why does that matter? What's the difference?"

"It matters if I did something to upset you."

"You didn't."

"Okay. So?"

This is confusing, because he's not letting you rip the bandaid clean off and you don't know why. "Nothing's changed, right? If it didn't mean anything to you, why can't you just drop this?"

Minho is quiet for a beat. His eyes are searching again, but this time, you think he finds something.

Everything is still and you hate it - the silence of the streets, the scrutinizing orange glow of the streetlights as if they're watching the scene unfold, even the innocent cat that's sitting by itself on the balcony on one of the floors higher up. You hate all of it.

"I never said it didn't mean anything," he tells you.

It makes you a little angry for some reason, and there's enough red to cloud your vision because his words are contradicting and you're tired, you're so exhausted that you can't focus on what it is that he's really saying.

"So you lied to me?"

"I've never lied to you."

"I asked you before and you said nothing's changed. Now you're saying whatever this is didn't not mean anything. Make up your mind."

It gets redder when he keeps his eyes fixed on you, still so calm despite the frown that has returned to its place between his brows. Still so collected, while you're being pulled apart at the seams.

The ball doesn't drop the way you expect it to. It keeps falling so insufferably slowly, hanging over you like it's mocking you for being stupid, like it's milking every second of suspense to make you implode.

Until Minho speaks next and suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. His voice, still so soft and tender. His eyes, reading something in yours that you can't bear to admit out loud.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.06.2024]

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch

Archmaester Gyldayn’s Testimonies of Princess Aelora Targaryen’s Youth

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: This is kind of a filler chapter until I can finish chapter 7. I was planning on either putting this at the end of chapter 6 or the beginning of chapter 7, but here is as good as any. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be able to finish chapter 7 by next Sunday. Thank you for your support and patience. Love y'all! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Chapter Warnings: mentions of childhood SA, mental illness, suicidal ideations, Targaryen queerness.

Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest child blossomed into a captivating presence at Dragonstone, earning admiration from those close to her but invoking fear and ire in those who dared to cross her. Known for her unpredictable temperament, she would fall into fits of anger and sorrow, during which her judgment would become clouded, leading to subsequent regret. In bouts of profound grief, she sought solace in Aegon’s Garden with the company of flora and fauna, finding peace and consolation by tending to the roses and lilacs and fashioning delicate flower crowns for her siblings to wear.

When Princess Aelora was approximately ten and two, eyewitnesses observed her standing on the balcony railing for an extended period during one of her episodes, seemingly trance-like. Despite numerous attempts to persuade her to step down, she adamantly refused, stating her desire for a better view of the landscape. In response to this concerning behavior, Princess Rhaenyra took the drastic measure of ordering the balcony doors to be permanently sealed shut. The exact cause of her distressing episodes remains shrouded in mystery. While many attributed it to the infamous Targaryen madness in her bloodline, the Fool Mushroom believed it was linked to a specific incident involving Prince Aegon during her early years.

Late one night, he claims to have spied on Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon in their bed chambers on Dragonstone. He overheard the Princess confiding in her husband about her eldest’s behavioral problems and impulsivity. He alleges that she confessed to a rape committed by Prince Aegon on her daughter while they were living in King’s Landing. However, this information is heavily debated, as there has been no further mention in oral or written records.

When Princess Aelora reached ten and four, scandalous rumors began circulating on Dragonstone about her relationship with her twin brother, Prince Jacaerys. It was whispered that their stepfather went to her rooms after reports of suspicious sounds emerging from behind closed. Prince Daemon was rumored to have discovered the Prince in a compromising position between the legs of the Princess. In response to the gossip, Princess Rhaenyra sent her daughter to study abroad at the Citadel and in Dorne as a gesture of goodwill, hoping it would ease her troubled mind. This separation was particularly difficult for the twins, as it was the first time they had ever been apart. Prince Jacaerys was visibly upset during this time, spending hours upon end sulking inside his chambers and absconding his duties until Princess Aelora finally returned home once they both came of age.

Nevertheless, Princess Aelora radiated warmth and kindness to all she encountered. She was admired for her outgoing and naive nature, and she took great delight in her love for nature, herbalism, botany, and medical techniques gathered from her journeys around the realm. Her fondness for citrus plants was evident as she carried the sweet scent of the fruits wherever she roamed, though they were difficult to cultivate on Dragonstone’s soil. Adorned in her late father’s distinguished Velaryon blue, she was never seen without the elegance of pearls, aquamarine, topaz, and sapphire, with a delicate headpiece and veil enshrouding her dark, lustrous locks.

When eligible suitors ventured to Dragonstone intending to court Rhaenyra’s eldest daughter, she dismissively turned them away, leaving the cock hurt Lords to return home scorned. It was said that during a gathering of the court, Princess Aelora boldly declared that she harbored no yearning for a marital alliance, as she found solace in the enduring companionship of her beloved dragon Gaelithox and her loyal brother, firmly indicating that she had no intention of entering into matrimony.

IMO, the reader suffers from borderline personality disorder. People with BPD are often mistaken for having depression, but the main qualifier is periods of mania with impulsivity, which is more susceptible to hypersexuality and addictions. They're typically triggered by actual or perceived separations, disagreements, and rejections. Highly sensitive to abandonment and being alone, which brings about intense feelings of anger, fear, suicidal thoughts and self-harm, and very impulsive decisions. People with high-functioning BPD experience frequent negative thoughts, fear of rejection, and regret about expressing their feelings. I'm by no means a mental health expert. This is just my head cannon.

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

Jace and the reader fulfill the Targaryen queerness. Who would've thought? XD

Thank you for reading! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

P.S. the reader wears what's called a French hood. I couldn't find one that matched her aesthetic unfortunately.

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld , @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint , @ln8118 , @prettyduckling22 , @primroseluna

Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |3|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Three: Nosy Friends and Conflicting Feelings

Summary: You and Tara have been seeing a lot of each other for school purposes. One weekend you're away and Tara has the urge to bother you. This leads to teasing and...confusing thoughts

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara pleading the fifth & mentions of death

Notes: My motivation has been going up and down these past two weeks but I finally finished this chapter so here ya go. Hope it's not shit

Masterlist|Previous part|Next Part

“What exactly are we doing here?” you asked.

Tara was leading you to the roof of her apartment building without saying much—which is strange for her. “I’m bored and we have an exam to prepare for. We’re multitasking,” she finally said while opening a door and walking out on the roof.

“And what’s so great about the roof?”

“I need fresh air. Any more questions, Shitlock?” She raised an eyebrow at you while sending you an unimpressed look.

“Someone’s poutier than usual today,” you said. You took your binder out of your bag as Tara already began on her work. 

“Just focus on your dork binder, dork,” she quipped and slouched in her seat, tucking her knees to her chest and raising the height of her notebook.

You rolled your eyes back to your binder. “Sure,” you said in a monotone voice. You were flipping through the various folders when a thought crossed your mind. The thought had you glancing at Tara, a small, downward smile appeared on your face.

“What?”

“Nothin.’” You quickly turned back to look at your notes. 

“No. What?” she repeated, sitting up.

You looked at her again, your same smile from before threatening to cross your face. “I was just thinking—” you shut your binder, “—this is the perfect place to chuck water balloons at people.”

Tara looked at the edge before returning her eyes to you. “Damn, I should’ve thought of that first,” she said with a reluctant smile. You could see her dimples. She looked… radiant—

“—Don’t beat yourself up,” you said with a wink, edging her on.

She laughed. “Yeah, whatever. You can get back to your dumb binder now.”

You laid one of your hands over your heart. “My binder is not dumb. It keeps things organized and neat.”

“It also keeps girls away,” she stated.

“Your sister doesn’t seem to mind,” you were quick to counter with.

Tara immediately shoved your shoulder. “Can you not?”

“The heart wants what it wants,” you joked.

“You know what?” She stood up. “I’m going inside. Climb your way down for all I care.“

It wasn’t until she shut the door that her words sunk in.

“Wait—what?”

Did the door just click?

You walked up to the door before trying to open it. You turned and shook the handle, but it was no use. 

“She locked me out on the fuckin’ roof.”

—

Tara knocked your apartment door three times. The door opened to reveal Anika. 

“Hey, Tara. What’s up?” she greeted her with a smile.

Tara reciprocated Anika’s smile before responding. “Hey—I think I left my headphone charger here the last time I was over. Could I take a look around?”

“Of course, come in.” Anika opened the door wider, giving room for Tara to walk in.

She walked over to the couch before digging her hands between the cushions. 

“So, you and Y/N seem to be doing a lot of stuff together,” Anika began to comment in the background.

“Hm?” Tara hummed with raised eyebrows. “Oh, that? I guess so. Everybody else in our class has buddied up for any future stuff, so we got stuck together.” 

She felt the edges of her charger but she couldn’t quite grasp it. 

“Oh? I thought you two finished your group project last week,” Anika said, walking over to the kitchen but still within earshot of Tara.

“Yeah, well—“ Tara huffed, her finger tips only grazing her charger, “—our professor seems to be a fan of group work, and I only sit through study sessions so I can copy her notes.”

Anika laughed a little. “Interesting.”

Y/N never lets me copy her notes, she’s so stingy, Anika thought to herself.

At last, Tara finally got a hold of her charger. “Finally,” she sighed.

“Where is she anyway?” Tara inquired while putting away her charger. 

“Away this weekend, visiting family in Brooklyn,” Anika said as she walked back into the living room with two water bottles. She wordlessly handed one to Tara. 

“Oh,” was all the Carpenter replied as she took the water bottle and silently thanked her.

“Did you need something from her?”

Tara shook her head. “No, just curious.”

Anika gave her a subtle look of skepticism. “Alright then. Wanna stay for a bit? I was just gonna put on a movie.” 

“Sure, a movie sounds great.” She then sat down on the couch and Anika joined her. 

Thirty minutes into the movie and Tara’s train of thought kept returning to a certain station. It was extremely frustrating. Even in your absence you were a nuisance. Clearly she wasn’t used to going this long without annoying you. 

But what’s stopping her?

She took out her phone and was quick to press on your contact. 

Tara (1:34 pm) u didnt tell me ud be out of twn

Dork (1:36 pm) Oh, sorry, mom. I wasn’t aware I had to tell you my every move 

Tara (1:36 pm) apoldgy accepted.

Tara (1:37 pm) enjoyg brklyn?

Dork (1:38 pm) Your horrendous typing aside, how do you know where I am?

Tara (1:38 pm) i have my sorces also 🖕

Dork (1:39 pm) Wow. You’re obsessed with me

Tara (1:39 pm) am not

Dork (1:40 pm) Sure, my little stalker 

Tara (1:40 pm) ur so annoying

Tara (1:41 pm) shoulsnt u be w family rn?

Dork (1:41 pm) I’m currently hiding in the bathroom 

Of course she is… Tara thought with a smile.

After an hour, Tara was still staring at her phone; she smiled as she typed away, letting a few giggles slip every now and then. Anika would occasionally look over at Tara with a curious look. She may or may not have had a hunch as to who Tara was messaging.

Anika’s own phone rang with a message from her girlfriend. “Hey, Tara—” Tara looked up from her phone for the first time in almost two hours, “—Mindy and the others are gonna come over in a bit for a movie night. You staying?”

“Sounds good,” Tara said before returning her attention to her phone.

Tara could admit to herself, and herself only, that she missed it a little; your back and forths, the petty comments and insults you would throw at each other. You being a dork throughout it all was just a bonus. But she didn’t miss you—oh, no, that would mean she actually cared for you. And she doesn’t, she could never. You were nothing but a nuisance, and if she wanted to use that for her own entertainment that was her own right.

Mindy and Chad arrived about twenty minutes later. Tara didn’t get up from the couch, only sparing a few greetings. Mindy noticed the lack of focus which led her to tilt her head at her girlfriend, raising an eyebrow. 

Anika shook her head. “Don’t bother. She’s been like this the entire time.”

Those words were all it took for the teasing to begin.

Mindy sat down on the couch, across from Tara, with Anika in her lap. “So, Tara, who is she?” Mindy smirked.

Tara looked up at her friend with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Who’s the girl that’s glued you to your phone?” 

Tara nervously chuckled before responding. “That’s ridiculous—you sound ridiculous.”

“Woah, getting pretty defensive there, T. Wait a minute… Is it someone we know?” As Mindy narrowed her eyes at the girl, Tara looked away with an eye roll. “Shit, it is.”

“There’s no girl. There’s no anybody.” Tara was too busy forming a defense to notice Chad peeking from behind her.

“The contact name says ‘Dork,’” Chad revealed.

“Chad!” Tara quickly flipped her phone over.

Anika and Mindy shared a look and a not so subtle smirk. “Anything you would like to share with the class?”

Tara looked between them, a pout forming on her face. “Chad’s a nosy prick and I’m hungry.” She stood up and grabbed her jacket off of the coat rack. “I’m going to the store.”

“Get me something too, lover girl!” Mindy called out.

“You’re not getting shit!” Tara called back before slamming the door shut.

—

“Are you ever going to quit?” Tara said.

You refused to meet her gaze as she stared up at you with her big doe eyes. “No.”

Tara groaned.

It was Friday and Tara was over at your apartment to work on another assignment with you. This, inevitably, meant that you two were doing your typical bickering. 

“If you call me short one more time—”

You finally met her gaze. “Why? It’s true.”

“You don’t have to obnoxiously point it out every chance you get.” She rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that afternoon before putting her book down.

“But it’s so fun.” You couldn’t help but smirk at her unamused expression.

“But it’s so fun,” Tara repeated, changing the pitch of her voice to mock you.

You wore your own unamused expression. “I sound nothing like that.”

“You sure about that raspy?”

You scoffed, almost chuckling. “Whatever, I’m getting water.” You stood up and walked over to the kitchen. 

“Maybe some tea while you’re at it,” Tara said.

“Maybe I can get you some milk. I heard it helps with growth,” you said as you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and then one of the juice boxes next to it. You walked back to where you were previously sitting with Tara, placing the juice box in front of her before sitting a couple cushions over.

“What’s this?”

You were confused. “What do you mean?”

“What’s this?” she repeated, gesturing to the juice.

“Juice, clearly.” 

How does she know my favorite brand of juice? It’s probably just a coincidence. That’s all. A coincidence. 

“Earth to Ms. Carpenter.” You gently poked her shoulder. “Are we doing this or…?”

“You got somewhere else to be?” she asked mockingly.

“Yes; a stupid date I should’ve never agreed to. Now let’s—”

Tara blinked a few times before cutting you off. “You have a date? I find that hard to believe.”

“Did you come here to talk about my dating life or to work on our assignment?”

She reluctantly turned her head back to her book and mumbled, “Whatever.”

After you two finally finished, you closed your book before standing up, stretching and digging. “Alright. I’m gonna change; you can stay here and do whatever,” you said. You then walked to your room to get ready, Tara never looking up at her phone, only humming in response. 

Since she would be hanging with Anika and others later, she figured she would stay at your apartment until they arrived. After fifteen minutes of scrolling through social media, the door to your bedroom opened and footsteps followed. That’s when Tara look up and at you, taking in your appearance.

You certainly caught her attention.

“I’m off,” is all you said as you grabbed your keys. 

“Y-you don’t look like shit—by the way,” Tara suddenly stammered. 

She wasn’t one for giving you compliments, so her words caused you to turn around with bewilderment.

“Thank you?” You still felt caught off guard as left the apartment.

Tara cupped her cheeks the moment you left, silently pleading the heat rushing to her face wasn’t visible. 

—

You spared yet another fake laugh at what your date considered to be jokes. The only agreed to this because it made a good distraction and Henry had a friend to set up. 

Yet all set you up for was boredom.

Seriously, Henry. An accountant? you bitterly thought as you feigned another smile. 

You don’t know how much longer you could bear hearing about financial mumbo jumbo. Your date needed to find better topics before you died of boredom. Henry had to pay for this. You were never going to go against your anti-blind date rule again. 

Eventually, the date finally came to an end around ten. In your opinion, it didn’t end soon enough. When you stood in front of you apartment's door, you could already hear laughter on the other side. You silently groaned before entering your key.

You immediately felt eyes on you, but you chose not to reciprocate. You just ignored them and made a beeline to your room. You were too busy raising the volume of your headphones to the highest setting to hear Mindy’s teasing remarks.

She nudged Tara’s side. “No wonder she had you all tongue tied when we got here.”

Tara shoved her elbow away. “I was not tongue tied.”

“You were having a full on gay crisis—“ Chad began but Tara cut him off by chucking a die at him. “Um, ow?”

“I did not have a gay crisis! Especially not over Y/N freaking Y/L/N,” she argued.

Anika smirked, joining in. “I briefly remember you pacing back and forth. 

“Was not! I-I was just a little confused about something, but I’m fine now,” Tara managed to get out through the nerves creeping over her. The same heat from hours ago was beginning to rush through her again. 

“I think—“ Ethan was cut off by Mindy raising her hand at him.

“You’re deflecting, T,” she said instead.

Tara blew a raspberry. “Nuh uh,” she said with childish conviction. “Roll the fucking dice Ethan.”

Ethan immediately started shaking the dice in his hands before rolling them. 

Mindy’s look of skepticism never ceased. “Fine, have it your way, but know I will get to the bottom of this.”

“There’s nothing to figure out.” Tara crossed her arms as Mindy narrowed her eyes at her, although she dropped the topic for the time being.

The entire time they were there, you stayed in your room. You laid down in your bed, blasting music through headphones with your arms crossed. Your shoes had been kicked off and you were currently in your pajamas. You may go deaf by fifty, but loud music was good. It was your white noise, a distraction. 

Some may claim your coping mechanisms were unhealthy, but they were your own. 

But does it truly count if you aren’t coping at all?—

You suddenly heard knocks at your bedroom door, so you pulled off your headphones. 

From the other side, Anika inquired, “Wanna join us for pizza? We’re going out.”

“No, thanks,” you were quick to respond before putting your headphones back on. 

Anika returned to the living room and sat back down on her girlfriend’s lap. “She’s a no-go.”

“Mkay. When do you guys wanna leave? I’m starving,” Chad said, rubbing his stomach.

“You’re always starving,” Mindy remarked.”

—

The next day, you were beaten by Tara to class, surprisingly. You slept through your alarm, it was the first time you had gotten a decent night’s rest in weeks.

I’ll take the win, you figured. 

Tara gave you a single glance before looking back to the front of the classroom. “You’re later than usual,” she said, still not looking at you. 

“Was up late, thinking about your sister,” you said, earning yourself a pinch to the thigh.

“You’re disgusting.”

After hours of passing notes and having unnecessary side arguments with Tara, class finally ended. The moment you left, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, the figure began to effortlessly walk with you. 

“Sooo, how was your date?” You heard Henry ask. 

“Shitty and extremely boring,” said with a tone that matched the unimpressed look you gave him. “He wouldn’t stop talking about financial junk, and then the stupid pilsners came into play—as if that would grease up the evening.”

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry… Oh! If you wanna try again there this—“

You cut him off. “No, no, no. I’m not doing this again,” you said while gesturing with one of your hands.

“You’re never forgiving for this, are you?”

You sighed. “You are never allowed to set me up again. Ever.”

“Yup. That sounds about right.” He dropped his arm from around your shoulder. “I gotta head to class but I’ll see you around.” You bumped fists before he made his way to his class.

Once classes were over, you started your shift at the cafe you worked at. It was a slow day, so you just focused on the wiping down the counters until someone walked in. 

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice say. You looked up from the counter to see one of your regulars wearing a charming smile.

“Hey,” you repeated. “The usual?” you asked as you turned around to the coffee maker behind you.

“You know me too well,” she lightly laughed. “Not many people today, huh?” she said as she looked around.

“Yeah. You caught me on a slow day.” You put a lid on her drink before giving it to her.

She thanked you before taking out her wallet. You opened your mouth to say something but she was quick to cut you off. “I don’t wanna hear it. Let me get this one, I don’t need this coming out of your check.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you sighed and smiled. You took the money from her and placed it in the register. “But how else am I supposed to show you you’re my favorite regular?”

She put a few bills in the tip jar. “Don’t worry, honey, I know. See you later.” She waved, winking at you, before leaving.

“See ya, Lottie,” you mustered up just before the door shut behind her. You didn't miss the sly smile on her face, possibly at seeing you scramble to say goodbye. 

“What was that?”

Anika’s voice caused you to jump. “Jeez, Anika. A little warning next time?”

“You would’ve noticed us if you weren’t busy flirting with your regular. I didn’t know you had a thing for mil—“

“Wait—what do you mean ‘us’?”

Anika turned, discreetly pointing at a table where Mindy, Tara, Chad and Ethan sat.

“Oh, wonderful. She knows where I work.”

“You expect her to put a hit on you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” you mumbled.

“You two can be so immature,” she said.

“Are you here for coffee or judgment day?” you sarcastically asked in a dry voice. 

“I can multitask,” she said before ordering. 

Not long after, Anika returned to her table with drinks and pastries. “Here we are,” she said while giving out everyone’s orders. 

Mindy kissed her cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

Anika smiled back at her girlfriend. “Anytime, babe.”

Tara simply sipped her coffee, thinking to herself, before speaking up. “Who was Y/N talking to?” she asked Anika.

“One of her regulars. They’re always flirting, not that even Y/N’s aware of that,” Anima responded. 

A smirk played on Mindy’s face. “You jealous, T?”

Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You sound ridiculous.” She immediately hushed down her tone. “And can you lower your voice?” she pleaded while slightly leaning in.

They all subconsciously looked over at you; you were wiping down the counter with your headphones in. 

“Ah hah.” Mindy pointed a finger at Tara. “I knew there was something.”

Tara lazily pushed Mindy’s finger to the side. “There’s nothing to know. Jeez, a girl can’t be curious anymore.”

“I don’t know. It does seem pretty—“

“Well nobody asked you, Chad, and come on, all I did was tell her she didn’t look like shit. You’re all reaching.”

“Oh, am I? Remember that dream you told me about, the one where—“

Tara’s eyes widened at Mindy. “Don’t you dare say another word. Besides, that dream meant nothing. It was just a dream.”

Mindy gave her an incredulous look 

“If I may—“ Ethan started, but Tara finished for him.

“No. You may not."

“Haven't you two also been doing, like, a bunch of study sessions?” Mindy raised an eyebrow.

“All a ploy to copy her notes.”

“Is flirting a part of the plan?” Anika rhetorically asked, giving Tara the feeling of betrayal.

“Traitor,” Tara mumbled.

“So, you don’t deny flirting?” Chad couldn’t hide his smirk.

“You’re really no help,” Tara said as she got up from her seat. “I’m leaving. I’m done being interrogated.”

“See you, lover girl,” Mindy said to Tara who was flipping them off as she left. 

What was Tara thinking? The next time she needs to know what her dream meant, she’s going to Google.

-----------

A/N: Da nile is a river in Egypt

(EDIT) A/N: You have my word that chapter four's rewrite won't take nearly as long

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Four)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,954

Warning: Language, fingering, hand-job, kissing, heavy description of genitals.

A/N: Here’s the update!! I'm sorry its so late. My wrist feels a lot better today!! 😘💚💚 thank you for your patience!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You were glaring at your computer screen; the words struggled to come to you. Nanami was pleased with the changes you had made to your latest chapters; he said the kiss scenes were much more realistic, all thanks to your best friend, but as much as he liked it, it still didn't change the fact that your smutty mutual masturbation scene sucked balls.

“It’s getting there.” He glanced back at the words. “You’ve moved on from using meat stick to penis—while is anatomically correct, it’s not quite rousing. Perhaps try using the words shaft, dick, maybe cock.”

“Kento!”

“I’m being serious, how many erotic novels have you read where the writer uses ‘she grasped his penis in her hand’ no ‘she grabbed his cock’.”

“Right—”

“Then there’s the climax.” Nanami sighed, flipping through the pages. “Be honest with me; have you ever seen a man have an orgasm? It’s not like a fire hose in hentai—” A judgmental look was shot in your direction, which was well deserved. “It’s more like spurts.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

“Yes, and Oaklynn’s orgasm, you just described her facial reactions and breathing. Get into the pulsing or contractions she feels. Hell, make her squirt. Ilsan is a knight; he's been to brothels so the man would know how to please a woman.”

“Squirt—?”

The way Nanami deadpanned at you before running a hand down his face told you he had figured it out. He must have finally put the deli meat sex scenes, terribly written orgasms, and your lack of knowledge of female orgasms. You slowly sank lower into the booth with a flushed face.

“You’re a virgin.”

“You’re a virgin~” You mocked, sticking up your nose as the nightmares and flashbacks of your luncheon came to an end. Nanami’s suggestion to watch porn gives it a better understanding of how orgasms work. There was no way in hell you were doing that. “I don't need to have sex to know how to write a good sex scene!”

That statement was true, and having some experience would benefit you. It had kissing scenes. And it most definitely would help you with the grinding scene in the alley you were adding in. Suguru made things comfortable for you; he wasn’t pushy or manipulative. He was so gentle and kind, making sure you felt okay. You were so grateful for him, but after you started feeling weird last night and told him to stop, maybe he didn't want to keep doing stuff with you.

If you were honest with him, maybe he'd understand. But it wasn't very comfortable. It felt so intense, and you were all tingly.

Once you finished your rewrites, you would have to sit down and talk to him. You just hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him after what happened. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can talk to him, get things back to normal, and maybe ask him to help you more. His lessons truly were helping you.

If only we weren’t having such a hard time with the stupid scene!

“Come on, just type it, dick, just type out the letters. DICK.” Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the screen. “It’s just a word!”

Before your fingers could even touch the ‘D,’ a fist pounded against your door. At first, you were startled; your heart lurched into your throat as your hand rested against your chest. The fist slammed against the door once again. If someone knocked at your door at 2:30 in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. You were about to grab your phone to call Suguru when you heard his voice at the door.

“Answer, answer god, please.”

He repeated the exact words as you shove your lap desk off to the side before jumping up for the door. You open the door just as Suguru pulls his fist back to knock again. His face was pale, and his dark bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. The dark circles under his eyes were the evidence of the nightmares that he had been having and the lack of sleep.

Regardless of his appearance, your eyes still frantically searched him up and down. You were trying to find evidence of injuries or something that told you what was wrong. You could find no traces of anything other than his insomnia. He was in a white T-shirt and baggy gray sweats and stood there silently. Look of relief washing over your face. He just stood there. A look of relief washed over his face at the sight of you.

“Suguru? What’s wrong? What happened?” He doesn’t answer your frantic questions; instead, he grabs you, pushing his way inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. “Suguru?!”

You yelp as you both fall to the floor, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he holds you flush against his chest; your best friend is shaking, his breath heavy as he clings to you as if you would vanish if he let go. Seeing him in such a state made you sick to your stomach. He didn’t deserve to be plagued with the pain of what happened years ago. You knew he blamed himself for what happened with Riko. You wish you could take the pain away from him.

While that was impossible, you could be there for him when he needed you the most. So you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thought I lost you.” He whispered, his hands clinging onto your tank top.

“Suguru—” you whisper, hands gently caressing his back. “You’re not going to lose me.” You feel him relax against you, shaking softly as he pulls back an inch. “Nightmares again?” His dark strands of hair cover his eyes, but he nods. “Sugu, oh sweetie—do you wanna stay the night with me?”

Your words seem to hit him like a freight train. The panic and fear in his eyes turned into relief. His muscles relax as he exhales through his nose. You reach up and caress his cheek, letting him know you are there, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm.

“Yeah, can I please?”

“Of course you can.” You lock the door before grabbing Suguru’s wrist and pulling Jim into your bedroom. “You can go to sleep. I need to finish editing this page before I lay down.”

As you sit back down, placing your lap desk in front of you, Suguru takes a moment to look around your bed. There are tiny Post-it notes and looseleaf paper spread out over your comforter, along with the mini spiral notebook you had in your purse. He had teased about it initially, but he realized that you need to jot down your ideas when inspiration hits you. So your stocking was full of the little mini notebooks you loved to carry.

Seeing that blissful smile tugged at your lips, in the warmth of the flush in your cheeks, made Suguru float with happiness. That joy that was brought on by notebooks was something he would never forget. He wanted to make you happy for the rest of your life. Not just with notebooks but a life you both could build together in a romantic relationship. Suguru wanted to give you the world on a silver platter because you deserved it and much more.

“Oh fuck, sorry, Sugu.” Small hands quickly removed the notes and the papers covering the other side of your bed. “Just transcribing and everything.” You motioned for him to lie down, patting gently on the mattress.

Suguru crawled into bed with you, covering himself with the sheet, before snuggling his head against one of your pillows. The smell of your favorite shampoo and conditioner had his nerves relaxing as he watched you glare at the screen. From the way your nose was turned up, you were deep in thought. His curiosity got the better of him, and he learned in closer, his eyes roaming over the screen.

‘Oaklynn’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure as her orgasm hit her. Her breathing was heavy, and Ilsan growled in her ear, pumping his fingers in and out of her vagina.’

Vagina?

‘That’s it~ such pretty sounds—nngh!’ Ilsan’s voice cracked as Oaklynn’s soft hand squeezed his penis, twisting her wrist as she stroked. ‘O-Oh gods! Oak~ Oaaak!’ A spray of cum coated Oaklynn’s hand, his sticky seed spraying all over her, pooling onto the mattress below them.

“PFFT!” Suguru tried hard not to laugh, his hand flying up to muffle the chuckle. But god, it was too funny!

Upon hearing the laughter from your best friend, your eyes snapped down. There he was, tears in his eyes, tanned skin flushing a rosy color as his eyes remained glued on your screen. With a tiny gasp, you slammed your screen shut before hiding your face in your hands. Your jerky, panicked motions seemed to set Suguru off more as he threw his head back, barking out in laughter.

“Oh my god! Stop!”

“W-Why was he cumming like a faucet?!” Suguru rolled onto his back, wiping at the tears.

“Stop it!”

“And using the words vagina and penis? I preferred it when you called it Meat Stick and Fairy Cave!”

You grumbled before moving your hands to push him. “Could you please stop talking!? Please, I know it’s bad!” Those words had Suguru jerking his head up, finding you flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes.

“It’s not bad—”

“Yes, it is! This screams, ‘A virgin wrote this! She’s never gotten any action,’ Which is true! How can I describe an orgasm when I’ve never even had one?!”

The truthful outburst left you panting as Suguru’s laughter abruptly stopped. His dark eyes were transfixed on your face before you got up, putting away your notes and laptop, and as you silently moved around the room, you could feel Suguru’s eyes on you. And they stayed locked on you until you crawled into bed with a sigh, curling onto your side.

The self-doubt was in your every move, from how your body tensed to your shallow breathing as you fought back tears. You knew Suguru didn’t laugh to be malicious, but it wasn't a confidence booster either. At times like these, you questioned if you were good enough to do this and if writing a smutty fantasy was what you were capable of.

Suguru frowned as he watched your body tremble, soft whimpers sounding in your chest. God, he felt like an asshole. With hesitant movements, Suguru inched himself closer to you. His hand gently inches itself around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Seeing that you didn't fight him or verbally tell him no, Suguru wrapped his arm underneath you, spooning you.

“I’m sorry.” His breath was hot against your cheek. “I shouldn't have been snooping, especially when you were in rewrites.”

“I-It’s okay. I’m struggling with it; I want to be the best I can, ya’ know?”

“Mhmm, I know princess.” The warmth of his body had you relaxing. “Can I ask you a question?”

You turned your head and pressed your cheek against his. “Yeah, of course you can.”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice was so smooth and sultry, making you shiver. “Like ever?”

It was true; you struggled to reach the mythical ‘Big O’ since you started masturbating. You felt like you would get close, it was within grasp, but you would fall short. There was a time you thought maybe you did, but the fact you had to question yourself was the only answer you needed to know that you had, in fact, not had one.

“No, I haven't; I think my fairy cave is broken.”

Suguru’s chest rumbled as he laughed loudly, giving you a tight squeeze. God, he had it so bad for you. You were so innocent and cute; you had such a good sense of humor.

“I don't think it’s broken.” His statement had you rolling so that you were facing him. “You just need to explore it some more.” His hand reaches down gently, resting it on your ass. “I could talk you through it if you want.”

Tingles ran down your spine as he squeezed the fat of your ass. It was a mixture of relief and excitement that your reaction didn't turn him off from the night before. Your hands moved, gripping his shirt gently before biting your lip. You had tried so many times before, but Suguru—he knew what to do.

“I don't want you to talk me through it—I want you to do it.” Suguru’s dark eyes went wide, his pupils the size of pinpricks. “If you want to.”

Your best friend leaned close to your ear before placing a kiss against it, and he moved further down to your neck, his tongue past his lips, kisses and little licks over your sensitive skin. The sensation had you squirming, your pulse racing in your throat, and a shuddering sigh left your mouth. Suguru sucked on your neck as his hand groped and massaged your ass. Your body felt like it was kindling with fire, a low burn in the pit of your stomach as he continued to pepper kisses over your neck.

“You want me to make you cum?”

“P-Please.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He grunts gravelly into the crook of your neck. “I’ll make sure you know what an orgasm feels like. That way, your already amazing writing is more accurate.” Teeth grazed over the skin, leading to your shoulder, as one of Suguru’s hands slipped under your shirt, trailing over your belly. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-Yea—aah—” his hand groped your breast the second he heard ‘yeah’ leave your mouth. He gently squeezed it, massaging it between his long, thick fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the nipple with every squeeze. “Mmm—” you pressed your lips together as your eyes tailed down, watching his hand move underneath your tank top.

Suguru continued to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing kisses so gently over your skin; well, his other hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The way your body twitched and jerked underneath his touch had his cock throbbing hard within the confines of his sweats. The breathless gasps, the way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it, you look so fucking hot; he wanted to do more to see what other reactions he could draw out from you.

Suguru’s hand left your breast, slowly trailing down past your stomach before pressing his whole palm over your clothes-clad pussy. Being touched intimately for the first time had you jerking, eyes snapping shut. Suguru groaned, rubbing his hand over your pussy, feeling the warmth of your sex. You gasped as he pulled his hand away to his index and middle finger over your clothed clit. Your body jerked forward, your arms wrapping around his neck, hands sticking into his hair as he brushed over the sensitive bundle and the nerves a second time.

“Does that feel good?” Suguru asked, his mouth pulling away from your sensitive skin.

Your mouth fell open as your eyebrows knitted together. “F-Feels r-real good.” His fingers began rubbing against your clit in slow circles, drawing out a whine from your chest. “O-Oh fuuuck S-Suguru.”

“I got you~ I got you, don't worry.” His fingers rubbed faster, memorizing how you jerked and reacted, repeating the same movements to get you to respond more.

The intensity of everything was becoming too much for you to handle. It felt like your whole body was on fire, like a pot on the stove roaring to a boil. You needed more; you weren’t sure what, but you needed more of this, of Suguru. He needed to quench your thirst, to put water on the flames burning with every nerve of your body, and you knew that his fingers would be the only thing that could help you.

“I-I want more.” Your voice was so timid, making Suguru’s hand seize up momentarily. “Please.”

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dark and husky.

With a nod, you grabbed his wrist, bringing it up to the waistband of your shorts. “Yes, I’m positive.” You gently pushed his wrist down, allowing his fingers to slip under the elastic band. You could’ve sworn Suguru choked on his breath, his eyes widening in the low light of your bedroom as they glanced down to his hand that had breached your shorts.

Suguru wrapped his arm around you, holding you steady as his hand dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds. The initial contact has your head tilting back m as he groaned, feeling your delicate skin before rubbing at your clit gently. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, digging your nails into it. Your body trembled as you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin.

“S-Suguru—”

“Is this okay?” Suguru moved slowly, carefully listening closely to your breathing and noting how you shook—memorizing each twitch, saving it for him to jerk off to when you fell asleep. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Seeing that you were doing so well, Suguru slipped his hand back further, his thumb rubbing against your clit before slowly sliding two fingers into you.

“Nngh!” You gasped out, pressing your lips against Suguru’s neck as you mewled. “Sugu~! Sugu~!” Your walls were beginning to flutter and convulse around him as he slowly curled his fingers in.

Feeling your hot breath against his neck, how your lips gently traced unintentional kisses over his sensitive skin had his cock throbbing hard. Suguru pressed into you, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. He slowly began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet squelched flooding the room as he rubbed your clit harder.

“I want to make you cum Princess.” He snarled against your cheek.

The vulgar words had you clamping down harder on his fingers. Your body was getting hotter, from your toes to your pussy, all the way into your stomach. That coil from a few nights before began tightening, coiling deep inside you. The intensity had you tugging on Suguru's shirt.

“S-Sugu~ f-feels intense a-again—Ah oh fuck it’s l-like before.” There was a twinge of uncertainty and fear in your voice. “I-I—”

“I know it's weird, but just let go. I got you—it’s going to feel so fucking good in a second.” His fingers moved in and out of your tight, wet heat faster, drawing out more gasps from you. “Trust me.”

“I-I do feel good, b-but—” Suguru hooked his fingers up, moving them in a come hither motion, causing your legs to shake. “Fuuuck! Oooh fuck!”

“God, you sound so good,” he whispered so softly you couldn't hear him over your moans. “So good.” Suguru had dreamed about doing this to you for so long, to have you underneath him, showing you how much you meant to him. It was a dream to have you clinging to him, gasping his name.

“Sugu—Suguru—” You could feel something coming; it was intense, making your toes curl. “S-Sugu—I-I—I think—!”

“That’s it~ that’s it, let go~ you’re gonna cum.”

His fingers pressed into the sponge spot inside of you. The pressure of his fingers and his thumb rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. You screamed into his neck, shutting your eyes tight as your thighs clamped around his hand. The pure fiery pleasure had your whole body and pussy convulsing as you cried out loudly, so loud Suguru heard your neighbor hit the wall with a ‘shut up.’

Suguru couldn't care; he wanted you screaming his name. He groaned as he felt your slick on his fingers, slowing down to help you ride out your first orgasm. "Shhhh, shh—princess, don't be too loud~" You panted heavily against his neck, tears in your eyes as the last waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Oooh fuck.” You wheezed out as Suguru gently pulled his finger out of you. “Oh my god.” As you rolled onto your back, Suguru quickly slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking your cum off with a satisfied growl. You tasted sweet with a tang of citrus; it was addictive. God, what would he do to taste it firsthand?

As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, you rolled back onto your side and stared at him. Suguru smiled cocking an eyebrow at the almost unreadable expression on your face. “Yes? Can I he—eeegh!” Your hand brushed over his hard cock, catching him off guard. “W-What are you doing?” you say up on your knees, cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic glow and determination.

“I-I've never seen a man cum! A-And seeing that you offered to help me, c-could I watch you jerk off? O-Or maybe if it’s okay, could I touch you? Y-You’re hard, right?”

Your bluntness and straightforward request left your best friend gaping at you. You wanted to touch him? God, this was like two dreams coming true. But as much as he wanted to have your hand on him, he was afraid he’d blow his load the second your fingers wrapped around him. So he's going to have to compromise for now.

“How about I jerk off, and you can wrap your hand around me?”

“Okay! Um! Let's start.”

You sat back on your heels, swallowing hard as Suguru pulled the sheets off his body. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as you watched your best friend sit up, resting his back against your headboard, dark hair falling over his shoulder with every movement. Why were you so nervous? It was just Suguru’s dick, just your best friend, who just made you cum your brains out. Nothing about this should make you anxious! He was helping you! This was research!

But your research had your pussy throbbing as Suguru hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled it down. When he did, his thick erect cock bounced, landing against his stomach with a hardy thump. It was heavy and thick, and it had you pressing your thighs together. The tip was a deep, dusty, rose color, dribbling out a clear substance from the tip. His shaft was tan; thick veins ran up and down as it twitched.

“Oh—” you whispered, taking in his well-trimmed pubes, admiring his happy trail that went from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock. “Oooh fuck.”

“Yeah—” Suguru groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you with dark, knowing eyes. He saw the way you looked at him, your gaze lingering on his cock. “this is it.”

Suddenly, it became crystal clear why he had so many romantic partners. He was thick and big. You’re sure it would hit every place inside you that would feel good. Wait a minute, not you, his previous partners! It must’ve hit all the right places inside of them. It probably felt so good. Like how his fingers felt pressing that spot inside you. His cock had the perfect curve that would hit it just right.

“You good there? Did your virgin brain malfunction?”

In a way, it did, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that it had. “W-What!? No, of course not!” your eyes started to burn with a visible flush. “No.” Suguru just laughed breathlessly.

“I'm just teasing you, come here, I’ll show you what it looks like when a guy cums.” Your eyes slowly drifted back towards him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him stroking his shaft. His hand moved silly up and down, smearing what you could only assume was pre-cum over himself. “Fuccck.” he grumbled, “I’m so hard, I-I'm probably not going to last long.” That was okay with you. “You can wrap your hand around mine.”

With his invitation, you placed your hand over his moving your arm up and down as he stroked his cock. He didn’t go all the way down to the base. Instead, he focused his attention on the head of his cock. Each time, he stroked his cock, his head tilted back against the headboard as his legs spread. The muscles in his upper thighs constricted with each jerk. He looked so fucking good, like some sex god.

Seeing him in such a state had you trying to match his movements as best as possible and attempting to keep up with his steady but jerky pace. Your eyes wandered to where his shirt pulled slightly up, just enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs that were clenching with each stroke that focused on the head of his cock.

While his movements utterly entranced you, Suguru’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, how your eyes roamed over him, focusing on the muscles in his stomach, before trailing back towards his cock. Your presence was enough to have him dribbling more pre-cum out. Suguru straightened his legs out, toes curling as his hand moved faster up and down over the head of his cock. He had it down so bad for you that it was going to be enough to send him over the edge.

“Oooh fuuuck~ fuck fuck fuck~” he growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah.”

Fuck, oh God, he looks so good. Watching him pleasure himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy deep inside. He was really into jerking his hand up faster, squeezing himself hard. He looks so fucked out of his mind, and you were sure if you could see your face, your expression with mirror his. There was something about watching him getting off that had your pulse racing in your pussy throbbing, your shorts were already wet enough, and you could feel more slick coating them.

Moving your hand with his wasn’t enough. Biting down on your lip, you pulled his hand away. “Hey, what ar—aah—” Suguru’s head lolled back as you wrapped your soft hand around him, jerking your hand up and down at the same pace he was going.

“O-oooh.” You were not expecting it to be as velvety smooth as it was. The feeling of his cock in your hand had awakened something in you. You leaned over him, resting your free hand on his upper thigh. Stroking your hand over his cock up and down faster and harder, squeezing it like he had done to himself.

Suguru threw his head back against the headboard, hissing through his teeth as his eyes watched your hand move up and down over him. He had the scenario so many times in his head and his wet dreams when he would stroke himself until he would cum all over his hand. The final push was to feel you touching him with such enthusiasm.

“C-Cummin! Fuck! I’m cumming Princess!” Spurts of thick white cum shot out of his tip, lashing out over his stomach and his T-shirt. It wasn’t all like a hose; it was small ropes, for it to be exact, that lashed out over him and your hand. “A-Aah!” His whole body jerked his abs, clenching as his eyes rolled back, and you continued jerking your hand, milking him for all you could.

“W-Wow, tha-that was hot.” at the sound of your voice Suguru shot his hand forward, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from continuing to move over his cock. “O-Oh, sorry—“

“N-No, you’re okay, just sensitive.” He grunted as he let you go, allowing you to pull your coated hand back.

You both sat in your bed, traces of your orgasm coating both of you as Suguru came down from his high. Silence filled the open air between you, but it wasn’t at all awkward; instead, it was thick with tension, sexual tension. A tension Suguru was familiar with while the feeling was alien to you. Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him, but something inside you prevented you from moving forward. Because this wasn’t a relationship, this was just your best friend helping you when you were struggling. It was nothing more than that.

Seeing as you were the only one capable of functioning, you got up and headed into your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet rag to clean you both off with. “Thank you for letting me do that.” You whispered as you cleaned off your hand before gently handing him the rag. “That was very informative, and I think it will help me with the pages. I’ve been struggling with it.” Suguru stared blankly at you, taking in your words as he wiped his cum off his stomach and shirt.

“Of course, I’m glad I could help you out.”

“Uhm, so do you wanna go to bed?”

“Yeah—yeah, that sounds good.”

“Awesome!”

After snatching the rag from him and tossing it in the bathroom, you crawled back into bed with your best friend. A man you had known since your childhood who you had grown up with. The two of you had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another no matter the circumstances.

As you lay down on your side, Suguru wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if you both had crossed the line tonight. Or if you had taken a step towards a new chapter of your relationship? Those questions could wait until morning because you were only concerned about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both drifted to sleep.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26

[aggieharkness]

Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 4

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: Avis has had a really shitty day at work, and to top it all off she finds you at the gas station with Ernie, which pisses her even further. Obviously, the only logical thing to do is to pick you up so you can take her to Dreamland. Whether you are on contract or not, superfluous to the situation.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), mommy kink, praise kink, degrading kink, pet names, tit play, proper dom/sub situation, spanking, bondage, overstimulation, near fainting experience. Consent is sexy people!!!

Authors note: At last, I have finished this chapter. It has taken me a bit longer because I was two seconds away from overworking myself into a mental breakdown, but here we are. I had to do proper research for the topic that I've written, but I understand that this whole thing might not be everyone's cup of tea, still I hope you like it. As always, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. I also accept ideas that you might have or things that you might want to see Avis and reader do. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3

Word count: 17K (I've tried but I can't write short stuff for the life of me)

Love requires some spice

-These accounts look really good Ernie. You’ve recovered quite well since the spike in prices during the war, almost as if it never happened.

-What can I say kiddo, I got reliable customers.

Ernie’s office was tidy, only a few cigarette butts on an astray and a few oil stains on the carpet that he had tried to get professional cleaned but wouldn’t budge, the door left wide open so he could check on his business, both of them. It was a regular thing for you to come by his gas station and check on the accounts for him, making sure everything was up to date, that none of his boys was stealing from him, which had happened a few times before, wrapping up the numbers of the previous year so he could start clean once again. He was a nice, good friend that had lent you a helping hand when you had first arrived, lost and unsure what you were supposed to do with your life. You had become his secretary for a few weeks before you had moved to working alongside his boys, though not for long, there wasn’t much market for ladies that take care of other ladies. Still coming by years after that, was no effort, you liked being away form the studio now that everything was so hectic, the smell of oil and rubber a great change from stuffy perfumes and overpriced colognes. There was only one thing currently missing from your life that upset you enough to actually spend such a beautiful day inside this office. You had not seen Avis in over a week, and it was getting a bit under your skin, probably hers as well if the quick longing glares she threw your way when you happened to cross each other’s paths, only for a few seconds, were any indication.

-You can say that again. I’ll just do the math, fill up my book and be on my merry way.

-Whatever you need to do Y/N, you know I love having you around to give me an interesting topic of conversation. None of the “I’ve come here to become an actress, to fulfil a dream” talk that I hear all the time from my boys. No, you come and talk about the stock market and other stuff that makes me wonder where you read about all that.

-The hairdresser I go to has some interesting magazines.

He chuckled at your comment, standing from his chair and heading to rest his back against the doorframe, observing the cars that came and went, popping a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting in. As much as he loved what he did you knew he missed the opportunity of becoming something more, something great on a screen, to have his name up in lights on marquees and posters. He wasn’t a bad actor, he just didn’t have the same chances others around him had had, which in your most humble opinion was a shame. He was a good actor, he had to be as a gigolo, made sure he kept his clientele happy and with a good chance of returning, but it wasn’t exactly what he had dreamt about since he was a kid. But you could not deny that his current line of business was doing great, your eyes drifting to the wiggly lines that were written before you, even if Avis had not come to visit him since she had got with you, her last boy, Jack, forgotten in a corner of her mind along with the rest of them. She had no need for them anymore, you filled up all her emotional needs and sexual cravings without issue. Ernie tapped the butt of his cigarette, ash falling on the floor, before turning his head towards you again, that charming smile gracing his lips.

-Now, how’s the studio, everything going well?

-As expected, I mean the atmosphere is rather strange among the higher ups but everything else remains the same. Well, not everything. Avis is busting her ass off all the time, and I hardly get see her at all. I think the last time was like a week ago and we only had a short lunch date because she had a meeting, and she had to rush off.

-She was never good with pressure; she tends to let it crush her and by the time she realises, she’s already under the rubble. I saw it happen when she first had her kid, she was so run down that I thought she would drop dead right in front of me. You trying to help her?

-Of course, but Miss Kincaid is keeping me busy, and I haven’t had the chance to go up to Avis’s office yet. I was thinking of doing something on the weekend now that the weather is getting nicer. Maybe a picnic or take her down to the beach, what do you think?

-A date with you in public? No offense kid, but she’ll kill you. – the sound of a car arriving had him tear his eyes from you to take a look, puffing some smoke out of his nostrils. He signalled to a blond man that was sitting by the door to attend to the lady, waving his hand at the woman that was in the car, though from your position you could not see how it was. Ernie quickly returned to the conversation. -I’m pretty sure she loves to be with you, but photographers lurk in every corner and now that she’s in control of the studio, even more. She’s a good woman but she’s also a very important woman.

-I suppose you are right. Things were easier when Mr. Amberg was still around.

-I never thought I’d see the day when someone actually said that they missed Ace Amberg.

-I don’t miss him; I miss how easy he made it for me to be and sleep with his wife. – the snort that he gave startled you at first, but upon repeating the words in your head you realised just how it must have sounded, after all it was pretty odd the situation you and Avis had and what role her husband played in all of it. A small chuckle escaped from your lips after a moment, your hand on your forehead rubbing the skin. - Okay, that sounded really weird. All I want is to be able to make her relax, let her hair down even if its only for a minute. This job is going to kill her if she doesn’t stop a little.

-That’s Avis alright, she speeds down the freeway and doesn’t brake until the very last minute, if she brakes.

-How about a date at her place? We could have a picnic in her own garden. No photographers, no worries and she’s in a comfortable environment that will make her feel relaxed.

-Now, that’s an idea. -he stubbed the cigarette with his foot before walking out into the workshop, you following suit to keep the conversation going. The warmth of the sun was a welcome change from the cold that had settled in the first few weeks of January, now pushed to only a few hours during the night before the sun came out and made the entirety of Hollywood forget their coats and pick up jackets. It kissed your skin gently over your white cardigan and flowy baby blue dress. Ernie kept talking, moving from adjusting a few screws on the carburettor of an old Mercedes to starting an oil change on a newer Lincoln continental. - I swear if I had a branch in this business just for dates, you would crack it kid. My number one star, wooing ladies like its Valentines Day.

-Don’t give me any ideas or I might do the numbers and see how much it could earn us.

-If it’s a lot, go for it. – he laughed loudly, his voice muffled slightly by the metal hood above his head. He started speaking again a few instants later, your hand resting on the side of the car as you took the sun in, but your gaze moved towards his legs, the only thing you could see of him, as his tone was now a bit different, more serious, as if he actually wanted to get an honest answer to his question. -How is Avis handling everything?

-She was socked about it all at first, devastated when she thought she might become a widow; she wasn’t sure she could handle being the wife of the late Mr. Amberg, although he’s not dead, yet anyway. She was upset that her daughter didn’t seem affected, but now they are both doing rather well. Avis moved from the panic of having to plan a funeral onto the panic of running the studio pretty fast, but you know, her and Ace…

-Yeah. It was way worse in the beginning, when she still thought he might love her back. It was horrible to see her coming to me crying, heartbroken. Now they could kill each other if they were not civilised. He hurt her pretty badly and she won’t ever forgive him. It was a shitty ride for her, no wonder she’s moved on so fast from his heart attack.

-She still goes to see him when she can, Miss Kincaid told me, but she doesn’t stay too long. She practically goes to see if he’s still alive and then goes home. She probably talks to him a little, but not much more than that. I mean he can’t talk back to her; she’s probably telling him all the shit that she’s always wanted to scream at him, letting all the anger out. Even though she hates him, she stills cares enough to not want him to die.

-She’s always going to care. She loved him, that’s not something easy to forget, at least for some people. But you don’t have anything to worry about, she’s not going to push away and hop back into the arms of her husband the minute he wakes up. You are doing her a lot of good and my business a lot of damage.

-Sorry not sorry, but you know I’m good and that I keep my ladies satisfied, at least this one in particular for the foreseeable future, if not forever. You are going to have to find yourself another Avis that pays well and comes frequently.

-Does she have any friends that are exactly like her?

-Oh, no, Ernie. She’s one of a kind.

The sound of a motor made you turn, that well known black Cadillac pulling into the station and parking on pump one. You felt your heart leap in your chest, a stupid smile plastered on your lips. Avis was right there, behind the wheel, her sunglasses on, leopard print hat pinned on the side of her hair, her hands, covered by her bright magenta gloves, resting over the wheel. You noticed how her stand was rigid; it was quite obvious to eyes like yours that were attentive to her every little detail, from the way her lips were curled into a thin line to how hard she was holding onto the steering wheel, her knuckles probably white under her gloves. You kicked Ernie with your foot, signalling for him to get out from under the car, his eyes landing straight on Avis as soon as he pushed himself off the floor, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he made his way to his best client, that charming smile faltering a bit when he greeted her and she only bit back with an order to fill up the tank. Oh, she was mad, like really pissed, someone must have upset her greatly at the office today, you thought. Ernie was still trying to talk with her, make conversation you gathered by the way his mouth was moving, and like a resort Avis suddenly whipped her head to meet you, pushing her glasses down to reveal a pair of beautiful big brown eyes wide open, surprised and slightly shocked at seeing you there. You could not tell if she was upset that you were there, but she moved her hand over the car door and motioned for you to approach her. You obeyed without complain, your flats making no sound against the grey floors and road as you walked to meet her, Ernie continuing to fill the tank as if he had not just ratted you out to your girlfriend. It’s not that you didn’t want to see her, but you kind of didn’t want her to find you here, of all places, after all you had not told her about your first job in Hollywood yet.

-What the hell are you doing here? – okay, she was mad at you now as well, brilliant. You gave her one of your charming smiles, innocent and proper, her submissive little girl but it didn’t seem to do you any good, she still looked at you with fury in her eyes as she removed her sunglasses all together. Did she think you were actually working here?

-I’m simply helping Mr. West with the accounts, ma’am.

-Do you think me stupid? – her eyes were narrow as she bent over the car door, her face a foot from yours, her perfume mingling with yours perfectly as you breathed it in, a shiver running down your spine when she lifted her hand and grabbed the collar of your dress yanking you hard until only a few inches separated her from you. She was delighted to see you, that Avis could not deny, but she was beyond livid at finding you here looking completely relaxed, at home. You were not one to engage with gigolos but you clearly knew Ernie well enough that he would allow you to be around like this, which meant you had to be providing a service, or a favour, her eyes looking at you with a mix of anger and lust, the fabric of her glove touching the flesh of your collarbone drawing goosebumps. If only her hands were touching you without the magenta barrier, you thought. – How many women have you fucked while you are supposed to be with me Y/N?

-None, ma’am. I’m not on contract here. I’m simply helping with accounts I promise.

So, you weren’t working here, you were only doing maths, okay, she could live with that, not that the idea of picking you up from here so you could indeed provide her with a certain type of service didn’t excite her. You were such a proper girl all the time, the affair that you were having with her aside, of course, you never did anything that could be considered naughty, not that she knew of, at least, but Avis’s mind was already imagining you walking towards her in a tight uniform, charming her, showing off your assets so she would pick you over any of the other boys in that station. She got hot under her own collar, your sweet eyes doing things to her that should be illegal, her mind racing through all the scenarios that she could come up with, all the things she could to you, that she would do to you.

-I can vouch for her, Avis, she hasn’t…

-Quiet, Ernie. – she lifted a hand towards him while still holding you in front of her, the man picking up the husky tone that laced her command, closing his mouth and wrapping up his job at the pump before locking the fuel deposit. It was so easy for her anger to turn into lust and desire when you were involved, that delightful dress you were wearing showing off your cleavage perfectly for her eyes to feast on, your breaths rapid under her touch. She could picture you popping a button open so your ample breasts would claim her eyes, all her attention. – Are you such a slut that you need to come here? Have others fuck you until you can’t take it anymore? Until you are satiated?

-No ma’am, you are the only one who touches me and you keep me perfectly satisfied every time.

-Is that so? – her voice was so low, so full of lust and power that you could feel your body reacting profoundly to her words, her hand letting go of your dress as she rested her body back against her car seat and yet you did not move, you only bent forward a bit more seeking her touch, her closeness. She thrived in the way you were so eager to have her, that you were such a submissive little girl for her. She smirked, moving her glasses back over her nose but not over her eyes, still fully taking you in, your eyes locking with hers, her pupils dilated and full of desire. You didn’t think she was into role play, but it was clear that this entire thing was heading that way, and you were not against it at all. - Well, I’m far from satisfied right now.

-Are you ma’am? We can’t have that, can we?

-Are you on the clock girl? – she picked up her purse, pulling out her cigarette case, but your hand gently shot to grab it, pushing it to the side. No need to blow up the station. She picked up on what you meant by that simple movement and left it fall over the dark leather of her car, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill from her purse instead and placing it underneath the strap of your bra making sure to brush the top of your breast before sitting back, pointing her head towards Ernie who was back in the workshop overlooking the entire interaction. – I need more than just my car pumped.

-For you I’m always on the clock, ma’am.

-Good then. I wish for you to take me to Dreamland girl, I believe mama has some pent up tension that she needs to release.

It took you a second to run towards Ernie to hand him the twenty, returning to Avis’s car without slipping over any puddles of oil. Upon reaching the Cadillac you pushed your hair back and smoothed your dress, walking slowly around the hood of the vehicle making sure to sway your hips to give her a show and oh, did she feast on you. Her eyes followed your frame so closely, her lower lip in between her teeth, the temperature around you both spiking. You slipped beside her, your dress bunching up over your upper thighs, which you were going to correct after closing the door, but she stopped you, placing both your hands against the leather of the seat on each side of you, her face inches from yours. You saw the way she stared at your lips, but she didn’t kiss you, couldn’t kiss you here for everyone to see so she pulled back. Lever down, car in first gear and Avis practically flew away from the station, Ernie laughing and waving at you both as he watched the car vanish around the corner before returning to his office. You had left the accounting records on a chair right there, but it did not matter, you were going to be busy for a while, he hardly thought your priority would be the station’s numbers. The road Avis was driving on was not the usual way she took to get to her place, but upon glancing at a sign you saw that it was the way to the Beverly Hills Hotel. It was risky to go with her to such a public place but then again you knew she was a bit of an exhibitionist, maybe the idea of the press seeing her with you turned her on, it sure turned you wild with desire, but you did not move your hands, as much as you wanted to run them up her thighs while she drove. She felt your eyes racking over her body, the need for you building deep within her core blending with the anger she still felt from the horrid day she had had.

Ever since her husband had had his heart attack, fucking Lon Silver was just stuck to her back, like a shadow following her everywhere she went. He drove her insane with the way he talked as if she was dumb, as if he was the only one who could take care of the studio when Ace had left it to her, not him, but of course he was overstepping, like always, trying to get her to quit or for her to turn the job to somebody else he could get to do his bidding. No fucking way, not while there was still breath in her body. She wasn’t doing any of this because the studio was Ace’s life work, she didn’t give a shit whether he would like what she was doing or not once he woke up, if he woke up, she just wanted to either wipe that fucking smirk off of Lon’s face or wipe him of the face of the Earth all together. She could not quite decide which would bring her more satisfaction. She felt the anger rising again, steaming out of every single pore in her body as it became stiff on her seat, which you quickly picked up on.  Her eyes were glued to the road, speeding down the avenue without so much as glancing your way trying to tempt you, test you and see if you wanted her as much as she wanted you like she would have done under other circumstances. You knew you could ask her exactly what she desired you to do, if there was anything she wanted to release some of the tension, but you did not want her to get frustrated by your questions seeing as her mind had raced back to whatever had happened to her throughout the day pissing her off once more. With careful movements  your hand made contact with the fabric of her stocking, under her skirt and over her right thigh; her breath hitched in her lungs but she did not push you away, your fingers rubbing and kneading the flesh, moving it upwards very slowly savouring the hums that she was making, a gasp escaping her when you brushed them on her inner thigh, fingering the top lace of her stocking.

You were supposed to take her to Dreamland, no? Might as well start relaxing her from the very beginning. You scooped your body closer to hers, your thigh practically touching hers without stopping your movements that had now turned towards the in between of her legs, inching closer and closer to her centre but never touching her; you only wanted to relax her, there would be plenty of time for you to tease her and please her later. Your head moved to the crook of her neck, pecking the skin above her coat and outfit, a quiet moan slipping through her slightly ajar lips. You were pushing your luck with this behaviour since the top of the car was down, your actions out for the world to see, but Avis couldn’t care less, your tender kisses seeping under her skin, the tension slipping out of her shoulders and limbs. You were just what the doctor ordered, and it had been too long since you two had been together, she needed every bit of attention you were giving her, that she allowed you to give her. For now.  Even her foot lifted a little from the accelerator letting the car slow down as the hotel came into view a few yards away. You had to pull away, much to her dismay, when the people on the streets became too many for you to continue, Avis swerving and stopping the car by the front doors. While she stepped out of the vehicle to pull a suitcase from the trunk before throwing her keys to a young valet you slipped from the passenger’s seat as the perfect image of a proper lady, hands clasped in front of you, coming to meet Avis by the front doors, her head motioning for you to follow her.

The lobby was spectacular, the walls and floors dressed in white marble with a round area in the centre framed by four columns that fit the same theme, separating a round zone with armchairs from the rest of the room. There were glass tables spread all throughout with vases of fresh flowers that diffused sweet floral aromas all throughout the lounge, carpets that were probably worth more than your entire apartment covering the marble patterned floors, a beautiful glass chandelier topping of the majesty of the room. You had never been here before, you had heard of it and had seen it upon passing by, but you had never ever been in there, which made this whole experience with Avis a thousand times better. People greeted her as she made her way to the front desk, smiling politely and stepping aside as if she owned the place, who knew maybe she did, everything was possible were Avis was concerned, the man that was sitting behind the counter smiling and handing her a key without so much as an explanation. It was clear they knew her enough to not ask unnecessary questions, as if she had done this before, which you knew she had, it was no secret for you that Avis had frequented the gas station for more than gas, though now it was not necessary. You knew she had brought all those boys here but none of them shared with her what you did, none of them mattered to her one single bit. She did care for Ernie, they had been friends and sex partners for over a decade now, but he had made it very clear to you when you had told him that you and Avis were a thing that he had no interest in being with her romantically, that he was still waiting for the one that would make him retire and much to his dismay she was not the one.   

Being shown towards the elevators you could not help but feel that this time things were special. You did not feel cheap or upset that you both were role playing like this, she wasn’t treating you like someone who was going to offer her a service and call it a day, no she made sure to always keep an eye on you, to signal you to walk beside her, never a few steps behind like at the beginning of your relationship, to make you feel protected and cared for. She was not going to do anything that could make you feel bad simply because she wanted to, this was a partnership and if you didn’t feel comfortable, she wasn’t going to push her needs and wants onto you the same way that she expected you to not cross lines with her. But by the way your eyes were glinting under the light of the lamps on the wall as the sun began to go down, afternoon blending into evening, she was sure you were excited and filled with anticipation and desire, wondering where the night might take you. You noticed the way she kept you close to her, her hands brushing yours as you stepped into the elevator, Avis pushing the button for the second floor, but since she had sped away from the station, she hadn’t uttered a single word. It intrigued you why she would not engage you in some sort of playful banter, but she wasn’t mad, her body was relaxed, and her fingers toyed with your fingers and the fabric of your cardigan, throwing glances behind her sunglasses that you could feel in your bones. What was going through that pretty head of hers?

The bell of the elevator rang signalling it had arrived at the desired destination, its doors opening for the two of you to reveal a set of stairs draped in a beautiful green carpet that extended all along an empty foyer, not a soul in sight. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt her hand holding onto yours, her steps calm and steady as you both walked down the hallway, the carpet decorated with a diagonal pattern you noticed upon glancing down to the floor following the movement of Avis’s legs and hips, the walls painted with big banana leaves over a light pink background. She pulled you past door after door until you both reached the opposite side of the hallway, a big window letting the warm sunlight through a set of thin white curtains, its yellowish beams reflecting on a white door situated on the left side, hidden behind a corner. Of course they would give her a secluded room. She let go of you to push the key in and open the doors, pulling you in gently, a smirk on her lips. You could see her fangs through her ajar mouth, her hands pushing you against the now closed door after dropping the suitcase unceremoniously on the floor, her face inches from yours. You thought she was going to crash her lips against your mouth and kiss you until you lost your mind, but you were proved mistaken when instead she kissed your cheek and with slow agonizing pecks she travelled down your jawline, a gasp sliding out of your throat when you felt her tongue lick the underside of your jaw and the flesh of your upper neck. Your hands were pressed against the wood, itching to touch her but something in the back of your mind told you that she would not allow it.  

Just as unexpectedly as she had pressed you against the door she pulled away and began to walk towards the living area of the suite. You had not had time to look around, not that you could pay much attention to the light pink coloured walls and matching furniture set, as your eyes were glued to Avis as she removed the coat off her shoulders, draping it over the back of an armchair, unpinned her hat and removed her gloves, both items resting on a small white coffee table in between the easy chairs before turning to face you, her sunglasses coming off slowly so she could stare at you. Behind her the curtains flowed gently to the warm breeze that was coming through the open windows, making a rogue curl that must have fallen of her complicated hairdo, sway near the nape of her neck, the fiery tones complementing the palette of the room, with its gentle pink tones, perfectly.  Her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath; was she… nervous? Her hands were holding onto the top of an armchair, knuckles turning white as the seconds passed. You could not understand why she would feel this way, it’s not as if this would be your first time together, perhaps you had misinterpreted her body language and she was in fact, excited, lusting after you, staking like a predator. Slowly you took a step towards her, her head held high with a raised eyebrow, a gentle smirk on her lips, so you took another and since she did not stop you, only waited, you closed up the space that separated you. Your hands rose in the air to take her face in between them, but Avis stopped you, her grip tender as she pulled you towards a different room where a cart with drinks and two couches rested over a light-coloured carpet, sitting you down. She turned away from you to prepare herself a martini, sitting herself opposite after a moment with the small glass in her hand. She took a sip before lifting her head to look at you, her legs crossed as you waited for her to speak with hands resting over the fabric of your skirt.

-Before we go any further, If I asked you to try something with me, would you? – her voice was clear, business like, forcing you to stare wondering why the sudden change in the atmosphere, waiting for her to finish taking another sip of the drink, curiosity filling your chest. Avis had been thinking about this for a while, since your first encounter when you had told her that you liked it rough in bed. At first, she had thought that it meant a few pulls of hair, but when it had slipped out of your mouth in the throes of passion the possibility of her tying you down, she had begun to do the research. She had asked people about it, had looked around shops and such; she had made up her mind about this.

-It depends. What do you have in mind?

-I want to test your boundaries, see how much pain you can take until the pleasure is no longer that, how much it would take for me to overstimulate you, among many other things. I want to dominate you. – she spoke while her eyes locked with yours, the power that was emanating from her intoxicating, making you shiver on the spot. She wanted to mix pleasure and pain? She wanted to do what you thought she wanted to do? It surprised you and yet it felt fitting for a woman like her with such a commanding presence altogether.

-Dominate me? What made you think of this?

-You said you liked it rough. I’m simply wondering, how much?  

-I don’t know, no one has truly bothered to do such a thing with me. – she took another sip from her martini before patting the seat next to her. You did not hesitate and slid right beside her, her hand toying with the hem of your dress as she spoke, delighted in the way your body responded to her gentle touches and brief caresses of your thigh.

-Then would you agree to let me do this? Share this experience together?

-What exactly would it mean for me?

-Many things. I want you to understand that this whole thing is for the both of us, not just me. If there is something that you don’t want to do or try, make sure to tell me, I won’t proceed at all unless we are both sure about it. – she bent forward, only a foot separating her face from yours, her hot breath tainted with the slight aroma of gin filling your lungs, your breaths rapid, heart beating hard against your ribs. What she was saying carried a lot of implications, a lot of things that you would love to try with her, it scared you but it also excited you, and it was clear that she had been through this idea in her head more than once and more than twice.- Though there must be rules set in place for this, honey.

-Like when we were at the dealership?

-Something similar. – her face was now inches from yours, her voice low and husky as she spoke, her hand now fully under your skirt. She knew you would be on board by the time this conversation was over, perhaps she might have had you from the very beginning, either way, just having her lips so close and yet so far drove you insane. – Rule number one. You are mine and only mine, you are not allowed to touch or sleep with someone who is not me the same way I’m not allowed to be with anyone who is not you. Understood?

-Yes ma’am.

-You are not allowed to touch me or yourself unless I grant you permission, the same way that if I tell you to be quiet, to look at me or to be loud, you will comply. You will only address me as ma’am or mother; if you say anything else, you will be punished. You don’t have the right to beg or plead with me or for me to let you do anything, I am in charge and will chose when you can do something. And if I have not stated that you can, then you must always think that you can’t. Your main goal is to please me so you can be granted permission, for what? That is for me to decide. I can do to you whatever I want, taking on account that your safety takes priority over everything else, so you can’t escape me or pull away from me or contradict me in any way, if you do, you will be severely punished. And lastly… you can’t cum until I say so.  Are these rules agreeable to you?

-Yes, ma’am.

-Good girl. -she pecked your cheek, your damn cheek! It was torture to have her literally telling you she was going to do things to you that might leave you like jelly on her bed and yet she denied you her mouth. She sat back, taking a sip from her martini, the hand that had been playing with you now resting on the back of the couch. Your eyes were full of lust, gazing up at hers with a beseeching tone but she did not move from her spot; she had not even begun, and you were already imploring silently for her to touch you. It was utterly delicious. - There is a system to make sure that if things get too much for you, you can tell me, and I will immediately stop. A set of safe words. If you can take more than what I’m giving you must say white, if you need a moment to gather yourself you must say orange and if I’m pushing you too much, if you fear I’m going to hurt you or you are already in pain, say black and I will stop completely. Being rough with you doesn’t entitle me to hurt beyond how much you want me to, understood?

-Yes ma’am. I have a question. You will pleasure me and hurt me and treat me exactly like I said I wanted you to, but what do you get out of this Avis?

-Control. Anything I command you to do you will have to comply with or you will be punished, and it is I and only I who choses exactly what happens to you. You are mine to do as I please with. Do you understand exactly what will transpire here if you agree?

-I do.

-And do you agree Y/N? – she waited for a few seconds, although they felt like hours to her. You knew perfectly well what she wanted to do and to be fair and honest you could not think of a person better than Avis to share it with. If anyone was going to fuck you beyond comprehension while she tied you to a pipe or something, who better than the woman who loved you and cared for you.

-I do.

And suddenly it was as if a switch had been flipped and she was grabbing the collar of your dress and pulling you hard against her, her mouth crashing against yours. It caught you by surprise, a yelp escaping your lips, but it ended up muffle by Avis’s mouth, her tongue tracing the outline of your lower lip so you would grant her access to your mouth, which you did. It was messy and so very intoxicating to have her battling and exploring your mouth so intensely, her free had on the back of your neck to keep you in place. Your lungs were screaming for air but you did not want it to end, the feeling of her teeth biting down on your lower lip before she pulled back altogether nearly making you whine at the loss, your eyes watching Avis downing the rest of her martini before standing from the couch. You sat there unsure of what to do, after all you were supposed to follow her cues and commands, but she had given none. She left the room only to come back a minute later with the suitcase she had left by the door, pushing the French door that separated this room from the bedroom and dumping it over the mattress. Slowly she turned to look at you, a hand resting on the door frame as she lifted her hand, her index finger signalling for you to approach her. On shaky legs you stood and made your way to her, your heart beating so fast you believed she could hear it, her right hand moving to trace the line of your jaw, her voice quiet, nearly a whisper in your ear.

-Undress me.

The outfit she was wearing hugged her curves in all the right places, but it was obviously a bit stuffy, work clothes that she desired to get rid of and you were there to please after all. Your hands went up to her neck, tracing the outline of the outfit until your hands were running down her front, fingers working slowly on each button, pushing the jacket open after a few moments. Her eyes watched your every move, laced with such ardour that she feared she might make you combust or perhaps it was she who might end up in flames. The blouse underneath was white satin, thin and so very distracting with the way it plunged down low revealing the top of a white and pink corselette, Avis’s breasts moving hurriedly with each breath she took. You could not get enough of her, the way her skin looked peppered with freckles, the way it felt under your palms, it was absolutely maddening. You pulled the blouse out of her skirt, undoing the rest of the buttons to fully reveal her undergarments from the waist up, your hands running down her sides to her hips, pressing her against you. She gasped at the action and was about to reprimand you about how she had not told you to do that until she felt you turning her around, her back now against your chest. The way your lips landed on the back of her neck as your hands trailed up to her shoulders, fingers brushing the sides of her breasts, felt wonderful, the anger that she had felt sliding down her arms along with her jacket and blouse, leaving her flesh exposed for you to touch. Your fingers ghosted over the flesh of her upper arms, tracing lazy patterns as your kisses moved to the crook of her neck and onto her left shoulder, retracing your steps so her right side wouldn’t be neglected. She was humming in approval, moving her head to give you better access, feeling how your arms moved from her hands to her hips, fingering the waist of her skirt until you located the zip, pushing it down slowly until the garment fell on its own down her legs, pooling at her feet. She was only dressed in her undergarments now, your hands travelling to unclasp the first hook of her corselette, but Avis was quick to stop you, pushing her body off of yours to sit on the settee at the foot of the bed with her eyes racking over your body, resting an elbow on the mattress.

-You are quite overdressed dear. Take it off. All of it.

How could she turn you on so hard with just one command? It was insane. Your hands shook in anticipation as you lifted them to remove your jacket, letting it fall on the floor at her feet, before rising them once again to undo the buttons on the front of your dress, Avis’s eyes watching as you popped each open, revealing your peach coloured brassier and the creamy skin of your abdomen as your hands carried on downwards until the dress hung lose from your shoulders. She was eating you alive with her eyes, tracing her lips with her own tongue at the sweet sight of your matching lacy knickers and nude stockings clasped to a garter belt. You had invested in new lingerie Avis noticed quite pleased. Those modern garments sure suited a woman like you, the translucent fabric letting her see your rosy nipples trapped behind that beautiful garment that complimented your skin beautifully. It was no effort whatsoever to shimmy out of the dress, the flowy material pooling around your feet in a mass of blue, leaving you before Avis in your underwear.

You took one step towards her causing her to raise an eyebrow, and then another letting your dainty foot slip out of your flat, placing the tip of your toes on the edge of the settee, your left leg right beside her as you bent forward to unclasp your stocking, rolling it down your leg and dropping it at her feet, doing the same thing with your right leg, your garter belt the next garment to leave your body, on top of the growing pile of clothes that you were leaving at her feet. It was such a normal action to remove one’s stockings, but the way you had done it was simply lascivious, your breasts pressed against your thigh practically escaping from their confinement, your fingers sliding down your legs as if to tease her, to tempt her. Returning to the spot you had just left you gave her your back, hands unclasping your brassiere before stretching your arm and letting it fall, watching Avis over your shoulder. Her pupils were blown wide, her lower lip in between her teeth, the hand that was resting on the mattress gripping the covers while the other rubbed her own thigh. She was waiting for you to finish so she could pound on you, you could feel it in the way she was looking at you, your knickers absolutely drenched as you pushed them down your legs, kicking them aside. Every inch of your body was uncovered, free for her to see and touch at last. Slowly you turned to face her, a gasp escaping her parted lips at the sight of you, pushing herself into a sitting position, the lust that was filling her up making the embers of a fire start building into flames deep in her core. After a moment of raking her eyes over your body she locked them with yours. The game was on.

-My my, aren't I a lucky girl, with such a pretty little thing standing there so bare for me. But I think you would look even prettier kneeling at my feet, wouldn’t you say?

Positioning yourself on all fours you crawled, pushing the clothes that had been shed to the sides so they wouldn’t be in the way, your hands inches away from her heels when you stopped, lifting your head to look at her. She bent forward and grabbed your face forcefully, compelling you to sit on the heels of your feet to meet her face at the level she wanted, your hands clasped in your lap, nipples hard due to the breeze that was coming into the room from the big balcony, its curtains swaying, flowing like water. Your inner thighs were coated with your arousal, and something told you that by the way her eyes were absolutely blown wide she could smell it, and it was driving her mad with lust.

-You are being such a good girl for mama, but why don’t you put that mouth of yours to good use.

She let go of your face, pushing you back slightly and lifted her leg, the sole of her shoe coming to rest on your thigh. She had said mouth, she hadn’t said anything about hands, so you lifted them and lulled your head to the side in a questioning manner. She smiled; you were so diligent with the rules, remembering that back in the dealership she had told you not to speak unless she granted you permission, her eyes observing you for a moment before she nodded, relaxing back against the mattress, propped up on her elbows to watch you. Every path your fingers trace over her skin sent a shiver down Avis’s spine, your mouth kissing the arch of her foot, like a craving for her that you just couldn’t fulfil as your hands gently removed her shoe. Even her stockings tasted expensive as your kisses trailed up her shin, fingers massaging the ball of her foot, around her ankle, through her calf, drawing quiet moans and hums that filled the room so easily. She was exquisite under your touch. Upon reaching her knee you lifted her leg over your shoulder to lick the perfect hollow where her calf and thigh met, sucking the silk in your mouth leaving a wet spot behind as you gave it a resting place over your shoulder to carry on with your journey up her thigh.

You were kneeling before her so readily, her eyes moving from your movements on her leg to the way your back arched as your lips went further upwards, the way your ample breasts and perky nipples swayed with each motion your body made. Avis could feel how she was responding to your ministrations, her corselette feeling a bit tight around her, the lacy fabric of her knickers positively drenched already in between her legs. You kept going, your lips leaving pecks around the lacy top of her stockings while your hands keened the flesh around the clip, and then with one swift motion it came undone in your hand, fingering the hem as you made your way to the back of her thigh to unclip the other. Painstakingly slow the garment was removed from her leg leaving her free for you to touch at last, no barriers preventing you from licking and tasting her sweet skin, your teeth scraping the soft flesh on her shin as you finally let the stocking fall on the floor. It was maddening the way your nails raked over her thigh, red angry marks painting her flesh, which with a smirk she realised she had not told you to do. There was sudden jolt of pain when her hand made contact with your head and pulled your hair tight so her face was inches from yours, your scalp burning deliciously as the pain became pleasure in a quick instant.

-Well, what a naughty girl, taking such liberties. – your head was lulled back as the grip on your hair became stronger, more painful and yet you did not speak, simply stared at her, a new gave of arousal pooling in between your legs. - If you step out of line just one more time, I will have to punish you, and you don’t want mama to get angry, do you?

Your head shook, a triumphant smile on Avis’s lips as she brushed her lips over yours before releasing you. The first mistake she could pass, but a second one she would not indulge, part of her hoping you would trip so she could indeed punish you while the other half wanted to see just how obedient you could be. Your attention was now on her other leg, hands shaking slightly but not in fear, it was a mix of lust and excitement sprinkled with a certain level of curiosity that you could not avoid, she was in control after all. Her shoe was hanging from the tip of her toes when you placed your hand on her calf to lift it, watching as the black pump fell to the floor on its own with a plop, her foot at the perfect angle with your face so your lips could kiss the arch. This time you made sure to give it a little bit more of attention, the pads of your fingers massaging and releasing the tension of being on her feet throughout the day, moving from her toes to her sole and the ball of her foot while peppering tender kisses around her ankle. You were making up for your slipup, it was quite obvious, but she was not going to complain when your hands were so eager to please her and keep her in a contented cloud, the small specks of anger and tension that had still clung to her skin, slipping into the ether. Once satisfied with the way she hummed as she let her body fall back onto the mattress, utterly relaxed, you began to move upwards, each kiss leaving a wet spot over the silk that you were so very tempted to rip with your teeth, but you were pretty sure she would count that as stepping out of line. Some other time, you thought.

Your lips were busy kissing around her knee, but your hands were trailing upwards until she felt you fingering around the lacy top of her stocking. You were being deliberately slow, toying and playing with the clip but never unclasping it, your lips teasing her thigh only to return around her knee once again, driving her into an impatience that she could only tolerate so much. When you felt her body shift and rest on her elbows, her eyes narrow as they locked with yours, you quickly picked up on the fact that you were pushing your luck and moved quickly to unclasp the front and back clips before pushing the garment off her leg. She smiled approvingly, but you were not quite done, you had neglected her thigh and that could not be. Finally, you began to move upwards, your pecks turning into gentle nibbles the closer you got to her inner thigh, biting down hard on your preferred spot, running your tongue over the red mark to soothe the sting. She gasped in surprise letting pleasure taint it as her head fell back to take in every single sensation you were giving her, but even though she enjoyed it immensely, and you knew she did, you had slipped, a naughty smirk painting her lips. She let you finish your work of kisses with one single peck on the joint of her hip and leg before her body lurched forward and her hand grasped your hair again. A hiss escaped your lips this time, another infraction she decided, pushing your body back until your back was practically arching under the force of her grip, Avis coming to stand and bend over your body, towering over you as your hands fell to the carpeted floor to stabilise yourself. Her breasts were only a few inches away from you, your mouth watering at the sight, but you were frozen in your spot, eyes moving frantically all over her body as her face got closer and closer to yours.

-And here I was, thinking you were going to be a good girl for mama only to disappoint me. You know what girls that step out of line get, don’t you? – God, why hadn’t you done this before, this whole dominating act could set you on fire with the way her voice spoke to you so huskily and with such an authoritative tone. You were her toy, her plaything, and you wanted to be her only girl forever and always. You found yourself nodding to her question, but she was not satisfied, she pulled you closer to her, giving your neck and back a break from their previous position, her breasts right at the perfect angle for you to feast on, but you could not steer your gaze clear from her face. – I need words darling, so answer the question.

-Punished.

-Indeed. You were doing so well, but I guess that sluts like you need to be reminded that your rightful place is at my feet. Crawl in between the balcony and the bed and stay. Understood?

-Yes, mother.

 She let you go, that delicious sting that had spread through your scalp vanishing. You sat there for a few instants before placing the palms of your hands over the carpet, moving slowly over shaky legs around the bed. Avis had not moved from her spot, how could she when you were so beautiful on all fours moving to the place she had specified, your ass propped up in the air letting her eyes roamed over your perfect checks, the glistening in between your thighs not going amiss as your hips swaying as you progressed with each step. Her own hands travelled down the sides of her body until they settled on her hips, savouring the moment. The carpet dug into your skin, but it did not matter, they would leave a mark that in no time would vanish, the principal question in your mind being what was Avis going to do with you while she had you in this spot. Reaching the spot you thought Avis would approve of, you stilled your movements, doubting whether to stay on all fours or to sit back, she had not specified how you should wait. A gentle breeze cooled your skin, making you turn your head to let it hit your face in hopes that your burning cheeks would not remain so. It was beautiful through the open doors, the sunlight turning slightly orange as evening progressed outside this room, the drawn curtains flowing with each gust of wind allowing you to see the outline of the city among all the greenery. If you let your mind wander you could imagine the sea just there on the horizon.

-Is the view outside better than the one inside this room? - You had not heard Avis’s steps approaching you, the sudden sound of her voice in your ear causing you to turn your head away from the window, eyes staring down at the carpet again. Your heart had skipped a beat, but you were unsure whether it was due to how sultry her voice was or if it was because she had scared the crap out of you. She made a disapproving sound with her mouth as she pushed herself back to her full height, something cold and leathery making contact with your upper back to keep you in place on all fours when she saw that you had lifted your hands off the carpte to sit back. – I asked you a question.

-No ma’am.

-And yet your attention was elsewhere. You disappoint me Y/N. I thought you would do well with rules, but you’ve proven to be unable to follow simple commands. I guess sluts like you deserve to be punished after all. What will I do… what… will… I… do.

The foreign object that had been resting on your upper back slid down following the outline of your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind until it reached your ass. You had an inkling of what she could have in her hand, but you could not bring yourself to turn your head to look at her, anticipation filling your chest as your heart raced against your ribs, pounding. The leathery object slid over your left cheek and then your right, but nothing else happened for a few instants, the excitement nearly too much for you. You heard ruffling beside you and from the corner of your eye you saw part of Avis’s frame sitting on the bed, over the covers. And then it hit you square in the ass. A thin sturdy shaft collided with both your cheeks as the leather tongue you had felt running over your skin hit you perfectly over the right side of your buttocks. A gasp escaped your lips at the contact, your body jerking forward in surprise and out of seer instinct to move away from what was inflicting pain but you quickly returned to your original position, the sting you had felt at first vanishing after a few seconds helped by the touch of Avis’s palm running over the mark you were sure the object had left behind, soothing it until the only sensation left was pleasure.

-Now, I think that ten whippings for the liberties you took should teach you to never step out of line again. Count out loud.

Her hand left your lower back, seconds passing by in silence. She had a riding crop in her hand, she was going to hit you with a fucking riding crop, a fantasy you had been having for weeks now. You had imagined her bending you over her knee and using her hand to discipline you but as your gasps turned into moans, she would bend you over the couch and hit you over and over with the riding crop until you had to stop fantasising, or you would cum on the spot. This was real, she had one in her hand, you had felt its sting on your skin and yet you could not bring yourself to believe that this was happening. The first spank quickly made you realise that it was indeed true, the leather tongue colliding with your left cheek harder than the one she had inflicted upon you mere minutes ago. This pain was delicious, absolutely dizzying and addictive and for an instant you nearly forgot to speak the number.

-One!

-Good girl.

The second one landed on your right cheek, a gasp escaping your mouth as you said “two”, voice wavering slightly. This pain was hardly anything that could make you scream, your body stoic in place even if the pleasure was building higher, the third and fourth spanks hitting you unceremoniously on both sides pretty quickly one after the other. You nearly missed saying three, but Avis didn’t seem to notice that slip up. She was beyond aroused, her breaths rapid with the riding crop tightly in her hand, eyes glued to the red marks she was leaving that she was so very tempted to bend and soothe with her tongue, but that would be the opposite of inflicting a punishment. She did notice that you seemed to be handling it all rather well, so when the fifth spank landed on your right cheek, she made sure to smack it harder, the gasp that you gave perfect indication that this might be just the ideal strength to use on you. The feeling of the leather hitting you harder sent a jolt of pain up your back, but the pleasure was grander, your voice filled with desire as you muttered “five”, so very deep and utterly maddening that you were sure by the time Avis was done you could cum simply with one word.

-Can you take the five that are left, darling?

The concern that laced her lusty voice warmed your heart and you quickly nodded, yearning for the pain that was to come. She delivered as soon you stilled your movements, the hit harder than the one before, the pain turning into pleasure so fast that you weren’t sure if you had felt anything but pleasure, “six” leaving your mouth in a breathless gasp, your hands gripping the carpet until your knuckled turned white, your toes twitching. The seventh one made your back arch, toes curling hard as you felt your arousal practically dripping down your legs, but even in this hazy could of desire tainted by pain you managed to speak the next number. You were doing so well, your pretty creamy skin painted scarlet, contrasting beautifully, and in a simple touch of affection towards you Avis ran her hand over the marks to sooth the sting and pulsating feeling that she was sure you had going on under the red flesh. Just three more left, you thought. There was a certain part of you that did not want her to stop but the curiosity of what she would do once she was done was rather overwhelming, the eighth blow landing a little bit closer to your upper thighs that Avis had intended, a yelp sliding past your ajar lips. This pain was somehow completely different to anything you had felt before and yet so fucking wonderful, so raw that your arms collapsed leaving the right side of your face resting over the carpet, eyes closed as you muttered “eight”. Avis bent forward to check on you, worried at the sight of you practically laid on the floor, her heart pounding and her hand nearly dropping the riding crop, but when she heard you say the number she released the breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding in her lungs. If you need her to stop you would say the word, she thought more in an attempt to reassure herself that you were fine than anything else.

You hadn’t noticed that your hips twitched a bit, calling out to her, your eyes opening briefly to lock with hers, the sight of her deep brown against your beautiful E/C being enough for her to see that you were in fact alright. Avis returned then quickly to her previous persona and inflicted one more smack, this time over both of your cheeks, your lower lip in between your teeth to prevent a moan from escaping, as the pain spiralled into pleasure so easily that it took you a few seconds to form the word she needed to hear. Fuck, it was delicious, you never wanted her to stop whipping you, you wanted to stay in this cloud of pleasure forever if she would allow it, but then the tenth and last smack came and it landed so hard against your skin that you screamed, your eyes filling with tears, the sting feeling like actual pain that you were certain you would not be able to withstand if she still had a few more spanks left. And yet it sent a jolt of pleasure so strong down to your core that you felt a gush in between your legs, your cunt aching so bad for her touch that you were an inch away from madness. You hadn’t realised how rapid your breaths were until you felt the fabric of the carpet brushing against your nipples with each hurried puff of air that you tried to force into your lungs. There was a ruffling right next to you, Avis’s face coming into your range of vision, her left hand resting over the carpet while the other one caressed the skin of your shoulder, still holding on to the riding crop, rubbing tender circles. You smiled at the gesture and after locking eyes with her you uttered the last word in a quiet voice filled with desire and a hint of relief.

-Ten. Did I do well, mother?

-You did very well. You were my very good girl, taking them all and never missing a number. – she gently took your hands and pulled you into a sitting position, a hiss slipping from your lips when you rested your buttocks on the heels of your feet. She would have asked if you were alright, but you clearly had enjoyed it, if the way your body had responded was anything to go by, her eyes having seen your thighs coated in your arousal. She pecked your shoulder, her hand caressing your upper back, moving gently over the red marks to sooth them. - You will not step out of line again, will you, darling?

-No, mother.

-Then I think a reward is in order. Is there anything my good girl wants mama to do to her?

-I want you to tie me mother.

-If that is what my baby girl wants, that’s what she’ll get.

She pulled you up until you were standing before her, legs slightly shaky but you stayed upright when she let go of your hands. The suitcase she had brought upstairs laid open over the covers, your eyes observing several items that rested inside it, over a satin liner: a blindfold, rich feathers, ropes and what looked to be a leash. She really had done her homework on the matter. She had turned around the bed to pick it up and place it over the settee at the foot of it, also taking the time to remove the covers and throw them on the floor. You were now standing on opposite sides of the bed, but Avis’s hands were not free anymore, she had a set of salmon-coloured ropes in between them, her fingers toying with one of the ends. It didn’t matter how many times she had seen you naked, you were still exceptional every single one of them, the evening light coming through the window giving you an ethereal look as its halo wrapped around your frame, your beauty doing things to her that she couldn’t put into words. Her body bent forward as one hand patted the mattress, signalling for you to hop on the bed which of course you did in a heartbeat, moving slowly, never breaking eye contact with her. You hadn’t noticed that the carpet had dug into the skin of your knees until they rested over the soft bedsheets and bland mattress that dipped as you rested your weight over it. Crawling towards her you were stopped by a gentle hand on your chest, your body following every cue she was giving you, from the way it pushed you away from her so you would be in the middle of the bed to the way she turned you and pushed you onto your back, laying fully over the mattress. The headboard had several pillows and cushions resting on it and Avis, as caring as she was, picked one up and pushed it under your hips to help with the sting and leftover pain on your ass cheeks.

She was being extremely tender with you, maybe because you had given her a couple of scares, but you did not mind this treatment, her hands grabbing yours and beginning to wrap the rope around your wrists making sure they were tight enough that you wouldn’t accidentally slip out of the hops but lose enough that they wouldn’t hurt you and draw out blood, though something told her that in the future you two might discuss such a topic. She finished by tying a knot, pulling the rope to try it out before she pushed your arms above your head. The headboard didn’t have any hooks or bars that she could tie the ends to, so she had to get a bit creative, kneeling on the floor to tie one to the foot of the bed before rounding to the other side and doing the same. You were now perfectly secured, a look of lust and anticipation in your eyes, watching as Avis began to walk around the perimeter of the bed making sure to never let her eyes stray from your naked form. God, she had you completely at her mercy to do as she pleased with, idea after idea filling her head until finally, she settled on one specific thing. From the foot of the bed and over the settee, she crawled on top of the bed, her hands running from your feet to your knees, parting your legs to accommodate herself in between them, resting her palms over your hip bone. Her lips made contact with your skin, trailing kisses from your abdomen all the way to your sternum, moving up to your neck and jawline, her mouth kissing the shell of your ear.

-You’ve been such a good girl. You want mama to touch you, don’t you?

You nodded, the feeling of her lips over your skin a most addictive sensation, and you knew she was not one to disappoint, retracing her steps while deliberately not touching your breasts, leaving wet patches over your overheated skin. She came to sit back on her knees, your fingers feeling the rough material of the rope as you watched how she removed her hands from your body and began to run them over her own from her hips all the way to her breasts, playing and kneading the flesh through her clothes, throwing her head back to give you an even better show. And then her fingers unclasped the first hook, her ample breasts one step closer to freedom. You were watching her with unbridled attention, pulling unconsciously on the ropes in an attempt to reach her and unclasp it yourself needing to touch her skin, but this was her fantasy now, having you at her mercy. Her fingers moved over the pink lace on the sides of the garment, playing with the boning until her hands reached the clips that had previously been holding her stockings, twirling them around until she unclasped the hook at the end of the garment letting your eyes see a bit of the perfect skin above her knickers. Your mouth was both dry and watering at the sight, breaths coming in hurried puffs as she trailed her hands back towards her tits and unhooked another one, her ample breasts nearly escaping from the corselette. They were so beautiful, and you wanted nothing else than to bury your face in between them, your arms moving a bit more frantically, the rough material of the rope digging slightly on your wrists forcing you to stop.

She was a perfect seductress, a temptress, removing her garment with slow steps as to drive your lust through the roof, but you could not beg her to be faster nor plead with her to let you touch her; you were not going to risk breaking another rule. She was only one hook away from being completely naked from the waist up and yet her hands did not go for it, they went to your feet, tracing the shape of your shin and knee, her lips planting sweet pecks on your inner thighs as your eyes glued to the way her breasts were screaming to be freed, hanging on by a thread. You honestly did not know which was better, the sight of her or the way her lips were kissing that sensitive skin in between your legs, scraping her teeth and nibbling gently, leaving angry red marks that her tongue soothed, her hands kneading the flesh around your hips almost as if she were ready to hold you in place should you start ruffling around. With each peck so got closer to your dripping cunt, the smell of your arousal so intoxicating that part of Avis wanted to simply bury her face in it and never let go, but you had bit her before, another infraction that she hadn’t forgotten about, and she had to punish you for it. Her lips left a kiss on the skin between your inner thigh and your cunt, hips buckling on their own towards her face, but the action only added to the fuel to tease you, and she slapped the side of your hip before pushing herself back to sit on her knees, the corselette slightly askew but her tits still hidden from your sight.

And then her hands traced her collarbone, the valley between her breasts and began to toy with the hook, your hands pulling on the ropes as your fingers wrapped around the cord in excitement. In slow motion she unclasped the corselette, your eyes watching at her delightful breasts bounced out of their confinement and the garment fell over the mattress behind her, a raised eyebrow and filthy smirk topping it all off. Fuck, you could have cum just from the sight of her. With cat like grace, she crawled back on top of you, both hands resting on either side of your head inching closer and closer to you mouth until finally she kissed you. You hadn’t realised how much you had craved her lips over yours until she was crashing them against your mouth, tongue battling against tongue to assert her dominance over you, though she didn’t need to, you were her slave, her submissive little girl. Your hands fought against their restrains as the need to touch her grew, but she paid it no mind, breaking the kiss to bite down hard on your lower lip, a gasp escaping your mouth as she drew blood, her tongue tracing the wound to pick up the droplet that had formed. The taste was metallic, but it mixed with the alcohol of her martini and the sweet essence that was you like a perfect drink. She began to play with you in earnest as her lips journeyed down the shape of your neck, biting and sucking on your pulse point hard so that there would be a mark left behind, eyes rolling to the back of your head briefly at the feeling, the bed moving slightly as your arms pulled against the ropes.

Your neglected breasts were calling out to her, kisses tracing the shape of the plump flesh before she popped one of your nipples in her mouth, twirling the pink bud, nibbling and sucking. You could not help it, a string of moans made their way out of your throat, the skin of your wrists stinging as you pulled harder to free your hands to thread your fingers in between her curls, but it was to no avail, she had tied them properly. Her attention moved to your other tit, teeth biting down to make you scream, and you were sure that this time people might have heard you through the open window, though you couldn’t give two shits with the way Avis’s hands and mouth were playing with your breasts, every sensation sending a jolt of pleasure down to your core that ached so bad for her you weren’t sure you would be able to hold off your orgasm for more than a few minutes. She loved playing with you, but there was a growing need to taste you, so her lips released your nipple after one finally suck, a deep moan emanating from your mouth, before she traced the shape of your sternum and began to move downwards through your abdomen and hips, sucking on the skin over your bone making sure to leave a bruise. It was a trait mark of hers at this point to always leave some sort of bruise on your skin, you supposed that it was her way of making sure people knew you belonged to someone. The anticipation was skyrocketing, hands actively pulling on the ropes now, the thick cords digging onto your skin as her mouth left a kiss over your pubic bone before your cunt was face to face with her, your glistening folds such a delicious sight. Wanting to prologue her teasing for a bit longer she slid her index finger up and down your cunt, a mix between a growl and a moan reverberating from your throat with each swipe, her fingertip brushing over your swollen clit.

-Fuck! - the touch sent sparks all throughout your body, your hips buckling against her hand as your head lulled back exposing your neck to her. She stopped all motions suddenly, a whine coming from your parted lips, forcing your eyes to open and look at her with a questioning glance.

-Did I tell you, you could speak, dear?

-N… No, mother.

-Then I should perhaps leave you like this until you learn to ask for permission.

-No, mother! I promise I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.

-Don’t apologise Y/N, never break a rule again. – her hands dug into the skin of your hips, her breath ghosting over your cunt, the warmth contrasting with the cooling sensation it gave you. - You know that if you want something from mama, you only have to ask.

-May I… may I speak, mother?

-Since you asked you nicely… you may.

A wave of relief washed over your body, but it was short lived as her mouth came crashing down over your cunt, and suddenly the only thing you could feel was pleasure. She was fucking fantastic with her tongue, lapping up and down your folds like a starving woman, gathering your juices and drinking in your sweet taste as her ears were graced with every moan and profanity known to humankind. Your arms hurt from the strength you were using to free yourself, the skin of your wrists probably red and raw as you thrashed around, head rolled back as she wrapped her lips around your swollen bud, twirling it up and down, from side to side. Every single movement was making your orgasm build faster and higher, pants and screams increasing in pitch. It was overwhelming the speed at which it was all happening, Avis pushing a finger inside you, curling and touching your sweet spot, the pleasure clouding your visions.

-DONTSTOPDONTSTOPDONTSTOP! FUCK AVIS!

She doubled her efforts now, pumping in and out of you as fast as her arm would allow her, feeling your walls clenching around her fingers harder with each passings minute. At the last second, she changed positions, her hand never stopping but her mouth releasing your clit, her body climbing over yours as her free hand came to rest next to your head. You had taught her a trick on New Year’s, and she had been waiting for the right moment to use it, and now seemed like the perfect moment, her hips slamming into her hand to use the momentum to pound into you, her thumb rubbing your bud. The force of her hips made your body rise and fall on the bed, your legs wrapping around her waist to keep her in place as you screamed higher and higher. You were so close, so fucking close, Avis pushing a second finger inside you, her mouth right next to your ear as she whispered.

-Cum for mama, darling.

And everything went white. Every single nerve in your body was burning bright, limbs twitching under the power of the orgasm she was giving you, her hips slamming into yours at a murdering pace, never stopping, never faltering, your hips trusting to meet her as your world filled with an explosive amount of pleasure and joy, screaming her name over and over. You were sure the skin of your wrists was broken by now, bleeding maybe, but you didn’t care, you were using the ropes as leverage to meet her movements like a psycho woman. It was insane all the things she was making you feel, that she had made you feel throughout this little escapade, but she was not letting up, your heart pounding against your ribs. You had not come down from your high when you felt a second one building deep in your core, Avis’s thumb putting a bit more of pressure on your clit making you jolt and yelp trying to escape her touch, but at the same time you just couldn’t, you were so close. She kissed your cheek as your breaths became ragged before returning in between your legs, her tongue taking every drop of arousal you had poured over her hand, her arm now a bit more relaxed after the break, but still pumping in and out, knuckles deep.

-YES! YES! GOD YES!

Her lips wrapped around you very swollen bud once more, twirling and sucking hard, your walls clenching around her fingers, your orgasm reaching a breaking point so fast that you almost felt like you couldn’t keep up. It was reaching a maddening point, her teeth scraping and nibbling, sending you over the edge for a second time, her hand pounding into you as with the other one she tried to still your manic movements against her face. The heels of your feet were digging onto the mattress as she carried on, fingers wrapped tightly around the thick ropes. She really was trying so fucking hard to squeeze every orgasm she could out of you, delighted in the way you thrashed around and called out her name in between pants. She could get a couple more, she was sure, adding a third finger, the sting of the stretch so delicious and almost a bit too much, but you pulled through, you could feel the third orgasm building so fast, so overwhelming under your hot skin, limbs twitching with every spark and jolt of electricity that Avis was producing with that gifted mouth of hers around your clit. It caught you by surprise when you had not come down and the third wave was crushing you under its explosive weight. This time there was a certain amount of pain spreading through every limb, your body moving, or trying to anyway, from Avis’s grip, needing her to give you a moment, but she did not stop, and you hoarse voice could not find the strength to scream any more, moans and pants the only thing echoing against the walls, sliding out the window.

There was no rhythm whatsoever to your movements, none at all as Avis continued with her assault on your extremely oversensitive bud, pumping her fingers in and out at a pace that you could not keep up with anymore. The pleasure that had built in your core was turning into pain, her hand not giving you a respite from all the sensations and powerful orgasms, because each of them had sent you to the fucking stars in one hell of an astral journey, but this time you couldn’t give her a fourth one. Your juices were dripping out of you onto the pillow underneath your ass while also all over Avis’s hand, mouth and chin. Suddenly you felt it all a thousand times clearer when, as you were rolling out of your third peak, you squirted all over her, the pleasure skyrocketing for a moment, your back arched off the bed, face turned to the side hidden by your arm, until the pain overtook it all. It spread to every limb, every cell of your body, her ministrations too fucking overwhelming that you could feel your lungs failing to breath, your head dizzy, the feeling that you might actually pass out filling your chest as your hazy mind tried to figure out how to tell her.

-Stop! Avis… fuck… Stop! BLACK! BLACK!

Instantly her movements stilled, pulling her fingers out of you and jerking her body into a sitting position before crawling fast to your side. The waves of pain and pleasure were still coursing through your body, but at least you could feel air passing through your lungs once again, the aching fading slowly as Avis quickly worked on the ropes to release your hands, taking them in hers once it laid on top of the pillows, forgotten. You had hurt your wrists she noticed, broken bleeding skin meeting her eyes before she gently placed them over the mattress to turn all her attention to you, pushing the sweat covered hair off your forehead. She should have noticed, she thought, she should have paid more attention to how ragged your breaths were, to how you were trying to pull away from her, worry and terror filling her chest as you remined laying there.

-Are you alright? Talk to me, please.

-Moment.

You needed a moment, okay, you had spoken, quietly, but spoken anyway, you were breathing, you just needed a moment. The dizziness was slowly fading as well, leaving traces of a light-headedness that you could cope with. Avis slipped from the bed to get you some water, rushing back to your side in under a minute trying not to spill it, keeping her eyes glued to your chest. It rose and fell at a slower pace, the raspiness it had held before no longer audible, your limbs motionless, completely spent over the mattress, only twitching every once in a while as the afterglow began to seep into your bones and muscles relaxing you, letting the scare pass. Avis could see that you were getting better, but that could not shake the feeling that she had accidentally overstepped, even if this was exactly why there was a safe word system. Her free hand caressed your forehead gently, the only sound in the room being your steady breaths. After a few minutes you opened your eyes slowly to meet a pair of brown terrified orbs.

-Are you okay?

-Yeah. It was… just a bit much.

-Here, drink some water. – she helped you to sit in bed, placing the glass against your lips and tipping it so you could drink, neither of you trusting your arms to hold it. Once you were done Avis placed the glass on the nightstand, quickly returning her attention to you as her hands rested on your cheeks. – Are you sure you are fine? I can take you to a doctor if you need one.

-I’m okay. You were doing great; you were just not giving me time to rest and I kind of nearly passed out. I would have been fine if I had fainted, you would have needed to give be some more time to recover, but I didn’t want to scare you like that.

-As if this didn’t scare me already.

-We’ll get better, I mean neither of us are used to doing this on a daily basis. Maybe we need to learn how to read the cues that each other’s bodies are giving us, pay a little more attention before we carry on.

-You don’t want to stop? You nearly passed out.

-If you mean as of right now, I think I’m done Avis, but I don’t want us to not try again some other day. We need to be more careful next time, that’s all. By the way, what were you trying to do?

-Overstimulate you. – she could not help the chuckle that escaped her, her forehead resting against yours for a moment before she pecked your lips and sat back, taking your hands in hers to take a look at your scrapes. They weren’t too bad, but it would be best to bandage them.

-Well, you certainly cracked it.

-Oh, shut up. You really scared the shit out of me just now. I don’t think I want to do this particular thing again.

-Well, I want you to.

-What? – her head rose to look at you, surprise not even covering what she was feeling as your eyes smiled gently at her.

-Yeah, I was liking it until I panicked, but now that I know that this are the signs, I can give you a warning. We just need to learn Avis. You’ll be a pro in no time.  

-You are masochist.

-Maybe. We can look into that some other time. Right now I believe that there’s a round two due.

-You want to carry on? You nearly fainted on me Y/N!

-Oh, don’t worry, I’m done, but that doesn’t mean that you have to be.

-I don’t need to continue, you’ve pleased me enough.

-I’ve been mama’s good girls, I know, but I think that after doing so well just now, a reward is due.

-A reward? What reward? – your face moved until it was inches away from hers, lips ghosting over lips as your hands travelled up her thighs towards her hips, fingering the fabric of her knickers.

-I want you to let go for me Avis. Let me take you to Dreamland.

There really was no need, but how could she say no when your eyes were pleading with hers like that. She found herself nodding, letting you move her around until she was the one sitting on the spot you had just been in over the mattress, the ruined pillow ending up on the floor. Your lips met hers in a sweet kiss, tracing the shape of her mouth with your tongue, the line of her jaw and licking that spot that always made her moan under her ear. What a delightful sound it was. You carried on tasting the skin of her neck and sucking on her pulse point until you were sure you had left a mark, but at least this time you wouldn’t have to worry about her husband finding out. Your teeth scraped the shape of her collarbone and left a wet trail down her sternum and in the valley between her breasts, her hands moving to thread her fingers in your hair. As you moved your body downward on the bed you felt the opened suitcase with your foot, an idea assaulting you suddenly. You met her deep eyes, whispering tenderly against her lips.

-Do you trust me?

-Yes.

-Then close your eyes.

She held your gaze for a second before following your words, her ears picking up on some ruffling sounds and the shift of weight on the mattress. She was curious about what you had planned, maybe you were going to tie her, maybe you were going to spank her and punish her for nearly leaving you unconscious in a hotel room. The sky is the limit. Your hands caressed the shape of her arms, a piece of fabric following your fingers until she felt something covering her eyes, her long eyelashes pressed against white satin. So, you were going to blindfold her, well, that was something she had not considered, but she wasn’t going to complain. Now that her sight was gone all her other senses heightened, her ears picking up every single breath you took, the way the bedsheets ruffled under both your weights. Your lips landed on her shoulder, pecking and drawing a gasp as her hands gripped the sheets, each kiss leaving a path of goosebumps over her skin as your fingers begun toying with the waistband of her knickers. Each touch felt a thousand times better, each kiss leaving her wanting more. Suddenly your breath was in her ear, making her turn her head toward the sound of your voice.

-Lay down for me Avis.

With her hands in yours she let herself fall gently on the mattress, her head coming to rest over a soft pillow. She had expected for you to start kissing down her body, but she couldn’t feel anything, she couldn’t hear you either, her heart pounding in her chest. A soft warm object that felt much like fur landed on her chest, her breath hitched in her lungs at the sensation, and as it moved down in between her breasts and abdomen she felt like the path it had left was fire. The unknown object changed places and was now following the line of her shin and thigh, her head turning instinctively towards the left side, gasps sliding from her ajar lips with each new touch. Her mind was a bit hazy with how it all felt, but after a moment it clicked that you were using the bright white feather that she had had in her suitcase. Weren’t you a sneaky one. You had moved it to her neck, the touch sending a shiver down her spine before your lips came to connect with the skin of her sternum, adding to the goosebumps that already painting every inch of her body. She had never known that losing her sight, even if it was momentarily, could make everything else just spike, your kisses leaving her flesh ablaze as you moved down her abdomen.

Suddenly your lips left her skin, and she felt your weight go to the side of the bed and then return in between her legs, unsure what was going on, her head moving from side to side trying to pick up anything at all. A slashing sound cut through the air and landed with a cracking smack right beside her right hip, over the mattress, Avis’s body jolting at it. Oh God, were you going to spank her? The thought made her heart race, her breath hurried in anticipation but the expected command to turn around an place herself on all fours never came, and the leather only landed over her skin the same way the feather had. It was such a contrast, the material completely different, and the cooling touch it left on her thigh driving her mad. You slid the riding crop down to her foot and then rose it until rested under her chin, lifting her head slightly to grant you a better access to her neck, lips latching to her pulse point as if you needed it to live. A moan escaped from her throat, her hands patting your head until she was able to thread her fingers in between your soft locks, grounding herself as the feather began to move down her right arm. She couldn’t get enough of all the sensations that were rushing through her body, the fabric of her knickers an obstacle at this point, hoping you would do something about it soon.

Lifting yourself back onto your knees she had to let go of your hair, hands dropping to the sides as suddenly the cold leather of the riding crop slid over her left breast, playfully slapping her nipple. That simple action made Avis arch her back, a yelp and a moan mixing in the hot air around you, the feather now running over the skin of her inner thighs, her reflective instinct being to buckled her hips and at the same time to try and push her legs together, but as you were in between them she could not, your hands coming to rest on her hip bone to still her. The way she was responding to you was delightful, every sound, every movement was simply exquisite, but you wanted more. Your fingers slid to the waistband of her underwear, pushing them slowly down her legs until they laid on the floor, Avis’s body completely bare for your eyes only. She could not see the way you were drinking her in, her hands grasping the sheets as she impatiently waited for you to do something, the anticipation driving her insane with desire. The feather returned to the valley between her breasts, travelling down until it moved over her dripping cunt, the sensation making her arch her back once again and lull her head back, buckling her hips towards you, but you were not done.

Her ample breasts were screaming for you to touch them, you could almost hear them as you buried your face in between them, kneading the flesh and rolling her nipples with your thumbs as you licked and nibbled at the skin. You were torturing her, a delicious playfulness that she could not get enough of, your lips so gentle while your hands gave her tits a more rough treatment. Satisfied with her pants and gasps you proceeded to pop one nipple in your mouth, sucking hard and scraping the sensitive bud with your teeth, your name slipping out of her mouth with a scream as the hand that had rested on your head now pulled, the sting on your scalp not that much of a foreign feeling to you. Your mouth felt like heaven, each touch and feeling driving her core to burn brighter and hotter for you, a plead nearly coming out of her mouth, but she was unable to speak as you moved to her other nipple, biting down instead before twirling it around with your tongue. Her brain was turning all mushy with the way you were kissing, your hands rubbing circles on her thighs.

-Y/N, please.

-Please? – you released her nipple with a loud pop, the leather of the riding crop returning to slide up and down both arms. -What do you want Avis?

-Stop teasing.

-And if I stop, what would you want me to do?

-Eat me out.

-Is that so? Well, I am here to please.

She gasped and yelped as you smacked the leather tongue gently on the side of her hip before she felt the weight shift between her legs. The first swipe of your tongue had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, a curse slipping out without her being able to stop it, not that she would have. You had missed that salty taste that was Avis, you had nearly forgotten the way her skin felt under your palms, the sounds that only your ears would hear. You had missed everything that was Avis in this past week, and the only thing you wanted to do was make her forget all the stress and frustration that life had brought her way. Your tongue lapped in between her folds so easily, your fingers parting her entrance so you could push it and out of her, the moans that reached your ears such a melodious sound to hear. What you were doing to her felt like electricity in every cell of her body, the tactile sense having heightened more than a hundred percent, driving every single touch to feel as if it was the most wonderful thing she had ever felt in her life. Without warning, and without need, you pushed two fingers in, a scream reverberating from her throat so loudly that it was a matter of time when you would have a worker from the hotel knocking on your door, but until that moment came you were going to try your best to make her voice be heard all throughout Hollywood.

Your arm pumped your fingers in and out of her fast and without a care in the world, pushing them out almost completely before returning them inside her hot velvety cunt until your knuckles were nestled between her fold, curling your fingertips enough so you would touch that wonderful spot inside her. This went on for a few minutes, your eyes taking in the way she thrashed around the bedsheets, her hips buckling and thrusting against your hand to match you. Her neck and chest were red, both from the exertion and due to every little mark you had left on her soft flesh, a thin layer of sweat forming all over her body. Her moans were beginning to rise in pitch, her orgasm getting closer and closer, but you wanted the whole experience to be monumental, your mouth returning to her cunt to suck her folds and lick them before twirling her swollen clit with your tongue, the bud moving up and down as you toyed with it, a hand suddenly on your head pushing your face closer to her if that was even possible.  

-God Y/N! You are wonderful! FUCK!

You could not help it, you wanted to see her unravel before you, and so you pushed a third finger inside her, the stretch bring on a fluttering of her walls, the pace as fast as your arm and back would allow you and the sound of her juices quenching around you as you pushed your hand knuckles deep inside her so utterly filthy and sinful and yet, it was driving Avis insane. The sensation of the feather moving over her stiff nipples was enough to send her over the edge, but your lips sucking on her clit certainly gave her a better push, helping her tip over it. Her back arched off the bed, grinding her hips against your face maniacally as the peak of her orgasm exploded all around her.

-YES! YES! AHHHHH, YESYESYES!

Her throat would be raw tomorrow, maybe even this evening as her screams echoed and reverberated against the walls, leaving a slight ringing in your ears. The white-hot pleasure spread through every limb, her vision clouded with stars as you slowed your pace after a minute, helping her ride out her orgasm. She was not going to lie, every single peak you had given her had been marvellous, but what you had just done to her was beyond that. It had been mind-blowing, explosive, every single sensation multiplied by a thousand, shivers running from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes. She felt the hand that just had the feather rubbing circles on her thigh, your fingers slowing down ever further until she collapsed on the bed, her chest rising and falling in hurried pants, her hand releasing your hair and flopping beside her. Her walls still clung to your fingers every few seconds accompanied with her hips twitching, but you had to pull out, a whine slipping through her ajar mouth at the loss of contact. Climbing on top of her you carefully removed the blindfold, letting it fall somewhere on the side, her eyes lazily opening to meet yours after your lips pecked her cheeks and eyelids.

-Holy shit.

-I guess you liked it then.

-Liked it? If you don’t fuck me with a blindfold on at least once a week, I swear I’ll fire you from the studio.

-Well, we can’t risk that. I guess I will have to obey mother and blow your brains out. – the room filled with chuckles and laughter, only muffled by her lips claiming yours, her tongue running over your lower one tasting the wound she had inflicted, but you didn’t seem to mind one bit. Upon parting you moved off of her to let her sit, Avis quickly chugging down the water that had been left in the glass. – Do you want to tell me what happened at the office today?

-Oh, fuck no. But I’ll tell you this. It’s always fucking Lon.

-Why doesn’t that surprise me.

-Now is my turn to ask. How do you know the station? – Avis rested her body against the headboard, picking up the feather you had abandoned over the mattress to toy with it, her breath slightly hurried still.

-When I came here for the first time Ernie offered me a job as a secretary, and I took it. And before you ask, it was just that. About three weeks later a lady came and she would have none of the boys, so I offered myself. Ernie was happy, the lady was happy, she paid well and so he hired me. But as strange as it sounds, there is not that big of a market for ladies that want to be entertained by ladies, so Ernie decided to not put me on contract for that part of the business and when I read about that job offer in the newspaper that Miss Kincaid needed a secretary I applied and got it. End of story.

-But you still visit.

-Yeah, he lets me oversee the accounts, and he likes having interesting conversations. It can get a bit boring hearing his precious boys talk about how they want to be in the big screen.

-And am I a hot topic?

-Always. He has told me many secrets about you, but I’m afraid I cannot tell you. I wouldn’t want to break his trust.

-Oh? – she pushed herself off the headboard, crawling your way with a naughty smirk on her lips, her eyes narrowing as she got closer to you. – Is mama going to have to fuck them out of you?

-Perhaps. – she was sitting on your thighs now, your hands resting behind you as to stabilise yourself. - He’s a very good friend, I really shouldn’t tell.

-Doesn’t mama mean more to you than him? Doesn’t mama do things to you that no one else does?

-Yes. – The word came out more breathless than you had intended, but it did not matter. Avis pushed herself to the side and picked up an item from the suitcase that was behind you, showing you the long leash you had seen before, a leather collar attached to it.

-Then be a good girl and start talking or I’m going to have you at my feet all night long. Pet.

[chvoswxtch]

we got a problem

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you discover a shocking revelation about who's behind the defenders of freedom.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns & violence

word count: 4k

a/n: this chapter is a little on the shorter side, but it does contain a huge bombshell. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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If someone had told you six months ago that you would be going shopping with Frank Castle, you would’ve done more than laugh maniacally; you would’ve recommended that they get a psychological evaluation. Hell, even seventy-two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed it. But here you were, in the women’s section, sifting through hangers and stacks of clothing with Frank following you closer than your own shadow, listening to his quiet grunts of irreverence and faint hums of approval when your fingers wandered over different items.

“I don’t get what the big deal is ‘bout this place. It’s just a store.”

All at once, your palm paused over a dark blue pair of jeans, and you looked up at Frank in a mock expression of horror while clutching your hand over your chest. 

“Target isn’t just a store, Frank. It’s a way of life. And we happen to be in a Super Target, which means not only do they have literally everything you could ever want, but there’s a built-in makeup store and a Starbucks.”

Frank rolled his eyes in exasperation and grumbled under his breath as he lifted the white grande cup up on cue, which looked comically tiny in his large hand, and brought it up to his lips to take a sip of the black coffee he had gotten.

“Yeah, don’t remind me I paid seven fuckin’ dollars for one goddamn cup of coffee.”

“Technically you paid eighteen because you were kind enough to buy my iced latte.”

“Is it even still a latte when you ask for fifteen extra fuckin’ shots of espresso?”

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you arched one of your brows and placed your hands on your hips while looking up at Frank. 

“I asked for two extra shots-“

“When it already came with four-“

“I don’t need to explain my caffeine intake to you. Now, if you’re finished with your interrogation, can you tell me how long we plan to be on the run for?”

A slight crease nestled between Frank’s brows while his features twisted into a look of incomprehension. Shoving one of his large hands into his jean pocket, he pursed his lips slightly in conjunction with shrugging his broad shoulders.

“However long it takes to figure out who’s behind this shit.”

“And…exactly how many outfits and tubes of toothpaste does that translate into?”

“Just get whatever ya want.”

Pinching at the bridge of your nose, you inhaled deeply and let out a slow breath before crossing your arms over your chest and staring up at Frank. 

“I don’t know how much you think journalists make, but I can’t exactly-“

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, I’m buyin’.”

Those words were certainly not what you were expecting to come from Frank’s mouth, and the shock was evident on your features. While you stared up at him, completely stunned, Frank gave a light shake of his head with a miniscule charming smile and took another sip of his coffee.

“You can’t use any of your credit cards. They could be trackin’ your bank accounts to figure out where you are.”

“I could pull out-“

“You use an ATM to get cash, they’ll know which one you pulled it from, and that gives ‘em a location. As far as they know, you’re dead somewhere. The longer they think that, the more time we got to figure this shit out.”

“Frank-“

“Just put the goddamn stuff in the cart, and finish your liquid heart attack. We got shit to do.”

Realizing that Frank was serious about his offer, a part of you felt guilty for all the items currently in your cart. You weren’t high maintenance by any means-okay maybe a little, but a girl has needs. You couldn’t get by with three shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a three in one bath product like Frank could. 

On the other hand, you were curious to see exactly how much you could get away with, and the urge to press his buttons was oh so tempting. A devious grin stretched slowly across your lips, and Frank narrowed his eyes at you in suspicion when he noticed the mischievous twinkle in your gaze.

“Well, if you insist.”

Dropping the jeans into the cart with a satisfied smirk, you pushed the cart over towards the makeup section in the middle of the store and could hear a disgruntled Frank muttering an ‘aw hell’ under his breath as he followed right behind you, much to your amusement, which caused laughter to bubble up from your chest. 

Shopping with Frank was your new favorite activity.

»»———　　———««

“How them sheets feel?”

A faint smirk curled at the edge of your mouth as you glanced at Frank over your shoulder from where you were laying on your stomach on one of the comfortable beds. He had managed to find a decent hotel outside the city, and got a room with two beds much to your disappointment, but anything was an upgrade compared to the seedy motel the two of you had camped out in the previous night.

“Like clouds.”

Frank raised one of his dark brows in silent amusement while looking over at you from his spot at the desk by the window. He let out a quiet grunt in response before his features morphed back in pure concentration while he averted his gaze back down to the gun he was currently cleaning. For a moment you completely forgot what you were doing and just watched him, completely mesmerized. His large hands moved methodically, but so fluidly as he cleaned each piece and re-assembled the weapon, like it was second nature and something he could probably do with ease in his sleep. The way his fingers were gliding over the pieces had your mind suddenly wandering to what else Frank’s hands might be good at. 

“Find anythin’ yet?”

Frank’s gruff voice tore you out of your impure thoughts, and your cheeks burned with heat realizing you had spent the past three minutes gawking at him. Clearing your throat, you turned your attention back to the documents in front of you, willing the black and white text to come back into focus as you found the paragraph you had left off on.

“Um…it seems like all the permits and the deed for the land are registered to a company called Fortis Allied. I can’t find a name attached to it, but all the paperwork is fairly recent. Everything looks like it was filed within the last year.”

“You say fortis? Like f-o-r-t-i-s?”

“Does that ring a bell for you?”

“It’s Latin.”

Scrunching up your brows, you turned your head to look at Frank again in a mixture of puzzlement and surprise.

“You know Latin?”

Frank had leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, his legs spread slightly making his lap look like an extremely comfortable and inviting seat. He held onto the handle of the gun in one hand and the rag he had been using to clean the pieces in the other, his dark brows knit as he stared over at you with his eyes squinted slightly in curiosity, like he was deep in thought about something.

“Marines’ got a motto, Semper Fidelis. It’s Latin, means always faithful. Navy’s got one kinda similar; Semper Fortis.”

Frank clicked his tongue against his cheek as he let out a dry and humorless scoff that only fueled your confusion further.

“And why is that funny?”

“Cause it means always courageous. And if these are the assholes we think they are, that’s pretty goddamn ironic.”

Staring down at the slew of papers spread on the bed in front before you, Frank’s Latin lesson presented more questions than it answered, and your lips pursed slightly.

“Defenders of Freedom and Courageous Allied. Their creativity is astounding.”

Frank snickered quietly behind you hearing the dry sarcasm seeping from your voice. Letting out a sigh of frustration, you reached for your phone that was charging on the nightstand. It had been dead for the past seventy-two hours, and as soon as it turned on, you had an overwhelming amount of missed calls and texts from people who thought you were either missing or dead, or both. About eighty percent of the missed calls and frantic voicemails were from Ellison, but to your surprise, there were quite a few missed calls and texts from Billy as well.

You had made sure to turn off your location so that your phone couldn’t be tracked, and Frank had been adamant about you shutting off your imessage. Deciding you had raised your boss’ blood pressure enough for three days, you sat up cross legged on the bed and grabbed one of the paper’s from the bed that had all the company’s information on it.

“I’m gonna call Ellison and see-”

“No.”

Looking over at Frank in surprise, you let out a quiet scoff of incredulity. 

“Frank, I have to tell him I’m alive. And he can help us-”

“The less people know you’re alive right now, the better. I told you, we can’t trust nobody right now.”

Dragging your palm down your face slowly in irritation, you shook your head in a show of defiance.

“I’m pretty sure my boss isn’t one of the people trying to kill me-”

“You don’t know that-”

“Yes Frank, I do. Ellison is practically the closest thing to family I have in this city, and considering that his best friend, and my mentor, was murdered by Wilson Fisk, I can say with absolute certainty that he is not involved in this shit.”

Frank’s hardened features softened slightly hearing the slight twinge of grief that resonated in your tone, and he was looking at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes of his that normally made your knees weak. But right now that infatuating sight was no match for the heaviness of guilt that filled your entire rib cage like raw cement every time you thought about Ben. 

You swallowed the pebble that threatened to swell into a boulder in your throat and stared down at your phone screen, your thumb hovering over Ellison’s contact.

“Fisk was never charged with murder.”

Frank’s voice sounded almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying that, but it was clear he was looking for an explanation behind your accusation, even though he wasn’t outright asking. It was almost eerie how he always seemed to know when to explicitly ask you something, and when to craft an open invitation to let you come to him.

“Ben was writing a story about him. He was going to expose him for who he really was. He got too close, and Fisk killed him for it. He broke into his home and strangled him to death, but he didn’t leave any fingerprints or evidence, and his hard drive was wiped clean. Ben’s d-his case is still considered an unsolved homicide.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Frank slowly stand up from the chair he was sitting in. He tentatively took a few steps towards you and sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, his eyes searching your avoidant gaze.

“What makes you so sure that’s what happened though?”

“Because I pushed him into doing the story.”

The way your voice slightly broke off towards the end of your sentence broke Frank’s heart. The remorse you felt was evident as it rose along your waterline.

“He didn’t wanna do the story. He told me to let it go, and I didn’t. If I had just left it alone-”

Frank wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in closer towards him, cradling your head against his chest as he held you close and kept his voice soft.

“Hey, hey…don’t do that. Don’t put that on yourself. Whatever happened, it ain’t your fault, you got that? Don’t take the blame for somethin’ that someone else did. He did the story cause he knew you were right, yeah? He believed in you, sweetheart. And that piece of shit Fisk is rottin’ in prison where he belongs, gettin’ exactly what he’s got comin’ to ‘em, trust me.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as he slowly carded his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. 

“I just feel like it’s all my fault. Like I…I could’ve prevented it.”

For a moment Frank was silent. Eventually he let out a heavy exhale through his large nose and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“I know.”

The deafted way he spoke those two words made it sound like Frank was telling you that he knew exactly what you were feeling, and an ominous thought crossed your mind as you found yourself wondering if he felt that way about his wife’s death. 

He let go of your head and reached into his pocket, pulling out the burner phone that he used. Frank handed the flip phone to you, and you lifted your head to stare up at him curiously. 

“Let ‘em know you’re alright, but make sure he knows it’s important no one else knows nothin’ ‘bout you, yeah?”

“You can trust him, Frank. He’ll help us.”

»»———　　———««

Forty five minutes later, you managed to calm an absolutely hysterical and pissed off Ellison, changed his mind about firing you once you were no longer considered missing/dead, and caught him up on everything that had happened since the night you were attacked three days ago. He agreed to help you and Frank do some digging into the company listed on the permits for the warehouse that burnt down, and in addition to emailing you everything he could find about the company, he also sent you copies of the reports on the two men that had attacked you.

“You were right.”

Frank’s head instantly snapped over in your direction, and his thick brows rose up his forehead slightly in bewilderment.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Cavella and Walker were in the Navy.”

Holding out your phone for Frank to see, you showed him the article you were currently reading on your phone that had a picture of the two men in their Naval uniform. Frank seemed to completely ignore your comment and was looking at you instead of the screen.

“You mind repeatin’ that?”

“I said Cav-”

“Nah, what you said before that ‘bout me bein’ right.”

As you caught the delighted smirk that tugged at the edge of Frank’s mouth, you rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head with a soft laugh, returning your attention to the article.

“Shut up, I tell you when you’re right.”

“Yeah, only after I gotta fix that bratty attitude of yours. The other ninety nine percent of the time, you gotta fight with me ‘bout every goddamn little thing.”

“Don’t be so fun to argue with, and I’ll stop.”

Lighty shrugging your shoulders with a faint mischievous grin on your lips, Frank shook his head and let out a dry scoff in response.

“Ya’know, you remind me of another hot-headed smartass I know.”

“Your other favorite person?”

“He’s the fuckin’ Devil, and a goddamn pain in my ass. Hell of a lawyer, though. You oughta think ‘bout switchin’ professions and arguin’ for a livin’. Think you could give even him a run for his money.”

For some reason that made you laugh loudly. The kind of carefree laugh where you throw your head back like a little kid, eyes crinkling, stomach aching with pure joy. Frank was the first person to make you laugh like that in a long time.

“I’m perfectly happy where I’m at. Besides, I’m pretty sure I would be disbarred within the first hour. I don’t think you’re allowed to tell the opposing court to go fuck themselves when they say something out of pocket.”

“Pretty sure you ain’t allowed to throw shit at ‘em either.”

Turning your head to glare playfully over at Frank, he returned it instantly with a challenging arch of his dark brow. You couldn’t fight the grin that slowly stretched across your lips seeing the faux serious look on his face.

“I threw a pillow at you.”

“Two pillows. Hard as hell, too.”

“I had no idea you were so sensitive.”

“I’m fuckin’ delicate, goddamn it.”

The mock expression of offense on Frank’s face coupled with the serious tone of his voice made you double over with laughter. He couldn’t seem to keep his composure either, and he began to laugh along with you. Shaking your head slowly, you waved your hand at him dismissively and turned your attention back to your phone.

“Okay, I’m trying to solve a case here. Stop distracting me. I have more than two pillows in my arsenal right now.”

“That a threat?”

“It’s a promise, Castle.”

“I had no idea you were so ruthless.”

Frank grumbled quietly under his breath as he looked through the stack of papers with the ghost of a smile on his lips while you softly laughed, his dark eyes scanning the pages for anything either of you might have missed. 

As you looked through the documents Ellison had emailed you about Fortis Allied, perplexity creased in the middle of your forehead the more you looked through each page.

“It’s not a real company.”

“What?”

“Fortis Allied. It’s…it’s like a shell company. It’s just a front. And it’s owned by…”

As you read the signature on one of the forms you were looking at, your confusion melted into an expression of cognizance. Enlarging the signature, you turned to show your screen to Frank, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he read the letters, before his face shifted into a look of indignation.

“Son of a bitch.”

Owned and operated by Nicolas Cavella.

Before either of you could say anything, Frank’s phone started to ring. He glanced down at and read the name flashing across the screen, giving you a quick glance before flipping it open to answer.

“Yeah?”

He stood up and walked over towards the window, leaning against the wall with his back to you. Curiosity got the better of you, and your eyes fixated on him as you watched him intently.

“Been takin’ care of somethin’. What do ya need?” His voice sounded a little rougher than usual, and you caught the way he tensed slightly and watched as his eyes flickered over at you over his shoulder. You arched one of your brows silently, as if asking him who he was talking to and what was going on.

“Yeah…I know. Cause I turned ‘em off. You know why, Bill. Yeah, she’s fine.”

Billy.

It abruptly dawned on you that you weren’t sure if Frank had told Billy what happened. He was technically supposed to be with Steven right now. Where did Billy think Frank was? What had Frank told him? Why wasn’t Frank letting him help?

In the midst of your chaotic inner monologue, Frank’s head dropped between his shoulders for a moment and he let out a heavy exhale before turning to stare over at you with an unreadable expression.

“She’s with me.”

The way Frank said that sent a shiver cascading down your spine, and the room suddenly felt twenty degrees hotter. You watched as he lightly clenched his jaw and nodded, as if Billy were in the room and not on the other end of the line.

“Be there in an hour.”

Without another word, Frank snapped his phone shut, and you watched him inquisitively.

“What was that about?”

“I gotta go check in with Bill. That trustfund asshole is throwin’ a fit ‘bout me not bein’ ‘round.”

While Frank started to gather his wallet and his gun, you quickly got down from the bed, feeling your pulse start to quicken at the thought of him leaving.

“Wait, I thought Steven didn’t want you around?”

“And I didn’t wanna be ‘round, but I guess you gettin’ kidnapped and two cops gettin’ shot spooked ‘em. I won’t be gone long.”

Before Frank could take another step, you grabbed your bag and started to gather up all the paperwork back into the folder.

“I’m coming.”

Frank paused while reaching for his black denim jacket. He let out a deep exhale as she shook his head and motioned towards the bed for you to sit.

“It ain’t safe for you to be in the city right now. Just stay here and I’ll be-”

“Frank, we already talked about this. I’m safer with you, okay?”

“It’s only an hour away-”

“I don’t care if it’s five minutes down the street, I don’t want to be without you.”

Alone. You had meant to say, ‘I don’t want to be alone’. But the words had already left your lips, and Frank was already staring at you with that one look in his eyes that you could never seem to decode. He didn’t hesitate like he did when you asked to come on the stakeout with him. He walked over towards the door of the hotel room and opened it, gesturing with his head for you to follow him, and before you knew it, the New York City skyline was coming into view.

»»———　　———««

When Frank pulled up to the Anvil office and put his truck in park, he turned his head to look at you with a somewhat stern gaze.

“Just stay in the truck, alright? Won’t be long.”

“Okay.”

For a minute, Frank’s thick brows knit together before they rose up his forehead an inch, like he was shocked you simply agreed instead of arguing with him about coming in. He eyed you warily for another moment before letting out a quiet grunt and getting out, closing the driver side door behind himself. While you watched him march up the front steps of Anvil, it was incredibly amusing to see how many people rushed to get out of his way. You weren’t sure if it was because they knew him and knew to stay out of his way, or if it was because of his physical stature and the permanent broody look etched onto his sharp features. Either way, you couldn’t help but laugh.

While you sat there in the truck looking through your phone, you noticed that there was a red notification dot lingering over your voice notes app. Clicking on the app curiously, you were met with an error message that read “Failed to capture full recording”. Immediately you were puzzled, and then you noticed that your last recording was over four hours. When you checked the date and saw it was from three days ago, a soft gasp left your lips.

You had never stopped the recording with Walker and Cavella.

Your phone must have just kept recording until it eventually died. With everything that had happened the past three days, you had almost forgotten about the recording entirely. Pressing the play button, you turned up the volume and listened to the playback.

The sound of glass shattering and bullets flying along with your own panicked scream had you wincing and pulling the phone away from your ear. The sounds of one of the most traumatic nights of your life had your stomach twisting into anxious knots, and you felt the phantom pain in your bandaged hand of glass slicing it open all over again. But just as you were about to turn it off, something caught your attention and made your ears perk up.

Rewinding the recording a few seconds, you pressed play again.

“Pr…we…ot…fuc…lem.”

The sound of bullets being fired in the background made it difficult to make out the words. You rewound it a few seconds and played it again, furrowing your brows as you listened intently.

“Pr…we..got..fuc…problem.”

After quickly downloading one of those music recording apps on your phone, you imported the clip from the voice memo and tried to figure out how to isolate the audio to where you could hear it better. As you pressed play this time and listened, you could hear Cavella’s frantic shouting clear as day, and his words made your blood run cold.

“Price, we got a fucking problem!”

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[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

three | chapter list

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you. 

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Julianna is a real princess. As a granddaughter of the Queen, step-daughter of a prince, her title is official. She’s been a princess nearly all her life, and it’s a detail you can’t miss. 

James’ hand is hot but amicable against your shoulder blade. He hasn’t stepped away from you since Julianna arrived, though what threat she poses has yet to be seen. She doesn’t seem particularly volatile. You can’t imagine her in all her dewy skin and fine clothing lifting a finger, let alone her fist. 

“Mama says you’re an artist,” she drawls. 

“Not really.” How her mother knows anything about you is a mystery. “It’s a hobby, is all.” 

“And you didn’t finish university?”

“No.” You don’t owe her anything. You know you don’t. But it’s not just her you want to defend yourself to, not when Remus is sitting by the window of the parlour and James is close enough to hear your heartbeat. “I tried to, obviously, but I couldn’t, uh, afford to not work.”

“Ah.”

You don’t expect her to understand it. You know most people don't. Studying and working, the majority can handle both. You’d been ashamed of yourself for failing, but you’d come to the realisation that it was sink or swim. You could sink —resent yourself for needing more time, more space, more accommodation— or you could swim. Accept your ‘shortcomings’. Make the most of what you have. 

Find yourself in a foreign country surrounded by the highly educated and the ridiculously wealthy. People who might never comprehend why you’ve struggled, or how. 

In that moment, you decide to treat this heart-wrenching trip as nothing more than a holiday. James is nice to you. The food is free and apparently plentiful. The grounds… 

Fuck, the grounds. The scenery. The royals aren’t currently living in their most famous residence, Loswell Castle, but are instead mourning the Prince at the more private and more subtle Bellaverden House. Subtle, yet gorgeous. The grass is green and stretches as far as the eye can see in all directions, broken up only by the silhouette of the alps to the east and the shimmering Lake Orlo to the west. The palace itself is nothing like you’d expected, and so far from the capital city of Genovia it is no surprise to find that the royals let their personal tastes bleed into every corner. It’s tasteful, silent wealth, no crystal chandeliers hanging from the eaves but instead a Rembrandt in the hallway. No solid gold cutlery, but instead Noritake porcelain tea cups and their matching exorbitant saucers.

“Loswell is the gaudier of the two houses,” James had said, evidently pleased by your wide-eyed surprise.

A nice boy who’s being paid to spend time with you and his funny friends. All you have to do is survive the paparazzi (check!) and your suspicious possible relatives (less so).

Any hour now, the paternity test will come up negative and they’ll be shepherding you home in search of the actual princess, wherever she may be. 

If she exists at all. 

“You haven’t eaten anything today,” James says softly, for your ears only. “Should we go down to the kitchens?”

It’s hard to describe the true and daunting scale of Bellaverden House, but James’ use of ‘kitchens’ rather than ‘kitchen’ sums it up nicely. 

Julianna rolls her shoulders, reaching for a black telephone on the side table. “No need. We’ll have it brought up. What do you like? They have yards of fresh pasta prepared by now. Doesn’t matter, I’ll ask for some of everything.”

“Oh, no,” you say, stepping out of James' reach. “I don’t want to be an imposition while I’m here.”

“That ship has sailed,” she says neatly. 

Ouch. You look back to James without intending to, an automatic movement. He’s become your safety net too quickly. His job is to protect you from harm, not your catty maybe-cousin’s mild disdain. 

“Sit,” Julianna says. “James, you can take up station in the hallway. Go on.”

Her voice possesses all the snobbish airiness you’d expect it to. She’s regal, elegant, and rude. James’ hand stretches toward yours, your fingers not quite touching. You think it might be his silent way of saying he won’t be far.

He gives you a reassuring half-smile. “If you need me,” he says. 

“Tutor,” Julianna adds once James is at the door, “you can leave us.”

“Remus, please.” You smile at Julianna appealingly, piping up before she can steal your last lifeline. “I need him to tell me what silverware to use. If I have any hope of catching up, I’ll have to start learning about proper etiquette straight away.”

You look to your tutor to make sure he’s on board. Remus gestures for you to sit and crosses the hardwood floors between you, his footsteps soundless. Julianna sniffs, your suggestion agreeable but tiresome for her, and pulls the telephone receiver to her ear. 

Remus settles into the chair next to yours at the table. 

“Don’t worry. We won’t leave you for wolves,” he says.

You’re grateful. You nod to the book in his hands. “What are you reading?”

He turns the book around. A Comprehensive History of Contemporary Genovia. 

“I’ve never had to educate someone who didn’t already know a very specific, very intricate history of our country,” he says in his melding voice, the barest hints of his accent peaking through. He says our country like you already belong as he does, not native but citizen anyhow. “I provide supplementary education for the well-educated, I… I’m like a second chance for rich slackers. You’re neither, and so I’m not sure how I can make this easy on you.”

You admire his thinking. You’ve been lucky to find yourself in the care of people who put your comfort first. Remus, James, Sirius, even the ambassadors of the country, and the matron you’d been introduced to upon your arrival here, they’ve all been so conscientious. 

But it won’t matter. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says. 

“You do?”

“You’ve made it clear how much faith you have in the current situation. I believe…” that you’re who we suspect you are, you think he might say, but he parts his legs to bump his knee into yours. “I believe we’re going to be good friends.”

That is… “Thank you,” you say softly.

The telephone jingles as Julianna slams it down. “So, what’s with the bruise?” she asks. “And the bad makeup. Mean boyfriend back home?”

Her cavalier attitude chafes. “I was a little too close to the door when someone opened it,” you say.

“Ah.”

Again with the Ah. Extra syllables must be at cost. 

Positivity, you remind yourself. This is a vacation. This inane and insane need to constantly prove yourself to the people around you is going to make you crazy, especially when all of this is temporary. Who cares what princess Julianna thinks of you now when, in a day or two, she’ll remember you as nothing more than the girl who they brought by mistake? And wouldn’t it be nice to just… not care? Who cares what Julianna thinks?

You stand and walk to the door where James is standing, because calling for him would make you feel like an entitled dick. He turns his head to you obligingly. 

“Would you come back inside? The painting is giving me the jeebies.”

“That’s a portrait of your great great grandmother.”

“She’s scary.”

He claps your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “If the test comes out negative, I’ll happily commit royal espionage for you and fix the results.”

“That is not a joke you should make,” Remus calls mildly. 

“Probably not. I’ve made it now. Sit down, Princess, the food’s arriving.”

The food they bring up to you is Genovian specialty cuisine, recipes borrowed from the Italians hundreds of years ago, and how fortunate you are for that. You have no clue where to start, surrounded by rich smells of broth and stewed vegetables, the spritely aroma of white wine and tomatoes so fresh their roasted skins split under the gentle bottom of your spoon. 

James refuses to eat with you, as he’s on the clock, but Remus sits down at the table as promised to guide you through the fascinatingly intricate etiquette it takes to be a new royal. 

“That’s Cioppino,” Remus says, pointing to a dark red stew bragging large pieces of crab, smaller chunks of a white meat you’re unsure of, and the distinct dark brackets of mussel shells. “It’s actually an Italian-American dish. It’s served with sourdough or French bread, but in our case, where you can’t necessarily use your hands, we’ll go without.”

“There’s nobody here I need to impress, right?” you ask quietly. 

You swear you can hear Julianna twitching. 

Remus doesn’t respond to your comment, though his voice is riddled with amusement when he continues. “It’s more common for the crab to be served in its shell, but I don’t suppose they want the royals using crab forks and crackers." He points to a second bowl. “This, from the looks of it, is a variation of stufato di capra e fagioli, Italian for ‘stew of goat meat and beans’. Self explanatory. It’s very popular here in the winter, it’s,” —his voice drops to a lower register— “Sirius’ favourite. Shoulder meat, onions, carrots, celery, white wine and white beans. I don’t suppose I have to tell you what that is.” He nods to a heaping bowl of gnocchi coated in a green, buttery sauce, and its familiar wingman — fettuccine alfredo. 

“Now there’s one I know,” you say with a smile. 

“I think they’ve gone easy on you,” Remus says. “Given you something they knew would be familiar. The head cooks, Marlene and Marsha, hardly ever serve fettuccine without ragù di pollo. Chicken ragù. It’s a sacrament in Marlene’s eyes to separate the two.”

He moves so easily from English to Italian. You wonder if he speaks Genovian. Is there a Genovian language? You’re too embarrassed to ask, instead piling a mound of unadventurous fettuccine into your bowl. 

Julianna picks up the telephone again and you let yourself relax as her conversation begins. She pokes at her food and talks in Italian down the line, staring straight at you as she says the word, ‘principessa’. You don’t have to be a linguistics expert to know she’s talking about you. Eventually, her attention fades. Remus loosens at your side. 

“This spoon,” he corrects, before opening his book and sagging into his seat.

You're famished, yet all the rich food makes you nauseous. You toy with your fettuccine and a little of the cioppino. Weirdly, you miss the ordinary smells of your kitchen.

A figure moves behind you, James’ shadow shifting to cover your hands. “Unladylike as it might be,” he says, “you’ll regret it if you don’t try the bread, Princess. Freshly baked, soaked in pesto, it’s what us peasant folk fight over at the end of a shift.”

You hold your hand to a beautiful sliced baguette, “This one?”

“That’s the one.”

You pull the bread apart and enter a stodgy, olive oily sort of heaven. The only thing better than how it tastes is James' happy sound when you set aside a huge slice in a napkin and usher it behind your back, as inconspicuous as you can possibly be. He has no choice but to take it. A telltale crunch comes quickly and poorly smothered. 

Julianna excuses herself, and a maid comes to take her plates and dirtied cutlery on a silver cart.

You lean toward Remus with a hand over your mouth. “What do you call them? The ladies in uniform?”

“Princess, you can call them whatever you want to,” James butts in, returning to your side now Julianna is absent. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and sits in one of the chairs facing the door.

“But what’s nicest?”

“You’ll learn their names in time,” Remus says easily. “You’ll be fine. Officially, they’re ‘attendants’. Maids, cleaners. Oh, you’ll have a lady in waiting–”

“A what?” 

“A personal assistant,” James says. 

Your face heats up like an instant flush, all hot pinpricks and embarrassment, “No,” you beg, standing up, “please, that would be entirely unnecessary, it’s not like I’m some sort of–”

“Princess!” A familiar voice shouts. Sirius has weaselled inside the door and closed it tight, his back pressed against it for a moment like he’s keeping someone out. He wears an exuberant smile and a brilliant dark ensemble with fine pinstripes that mess with your eyes as he approaches. He’s practically running. “I’ve spoken to Delilah who’s spoken to Beau who’s spoken to Lily who’s been in contact with the legal team in charge of your care here in Genovia, and they’ve heard from the medical team who have been fighting tooth and nail to be put in talks with you,” —he looks at you emphatically now, and there’s something about his expression, part wide-eyed awe, part sympathy, that freezes you to the spot— “because it’s technically your care, and–”

“Sirius, get to the point, please,” James says. He’s looking at you in a different way. Like he’s waiting for you to fall over. 

“Your father,” Sirius says, promptly deciding to start again. “The paternity test is positive. Your DNA is a conclusive match for the Prince, may he rest in peace. You’re a princess. You’re the Princess, by blood. You are a Renaldi.”

There’s a stretching silence. You wrap your hand around the back of your chair and stare at the velvet upholstery of the seat. 

“Terrible last name,” he adds sympathetically. 

You don’t want to be the girl who faints. That would be ridiculous, to fall over and crack your head. So, though you hate to ask for anything, you mumble, “James?”

He wraps a shapely arm behind your shoulders and under your armpit before you lose the feeling in your legs. 

“I think I need to sit down again,” you say. 

“Reckon you do," he agrees, as he pulls the chair around with his foot and arranges you in it efficiently, the tip of his thumb pushed into the pulse point on your neck. “We’ll get you something cold, Princess. You can breathe.” He gives you a little shake, hand spreading wider as it drags down your collar. The pressure is like the safety release of a suction cup. You take in a huge breath. “Breathe, lovely.”

“I’m fine," you say meekly. 

“It’s alright,” he says, with his impossible softness. He’s unafraid to be kind even when there are people watching. 

“I’m fine. I–” You can’t finish your sentence. You’d wanted to say you’ll be okay. That this is just some melodramatic episode, but it isn’t. This is a human reaction to unbelievable news. Because you’re a– you’re a princess. 

You cover your face with both hands and curl in toward your thighs. Silence pervades, your ears abuzz with white noise. You aren’t sure how long you sit there paralysed, but soon James’ gentle murmuring and shushing cuts through the ringing. “It’s alright,” he’s saying, his hand at your elbow, “I swear, it’s alright. You take as long as you need.”

“Mickey’s at the door,” Sirius says. 

“Good. Tell him to radio in a level two security detail and stay there for now. Who else knows, Sirius?”

“By now? Everybody in the castle. Including government officials.”

“And you’re sure?” Sure said severely. 

“Of course I am.”

You’re trying very hard to keep your pasta down. This can’t be happening. It can’t be right. Their test is wrong. They swabbed the inside of your mouth wrong, or got it mixed up with some other person test, or the doctors are lying. Not once in your whole life has there ever been any indication that you are more than the nothing you’ve always been. All your worst insecurities rip to the surface. Not me. Not me.

“Level two isn’t as bad as it sounds,” James says, still so gentle. He’s been talking to you again. “All it means is that I’m not at full attention, and I need someone else to watch the room. That’s all it is.”

“I’m not,” you say. 

“You’re okay.”

“I’m not a princess,” you say, peeking at him through your parted fingers. 

His hand curves around your arm. He pulls it toward him. Encouraging rather than demanding. You let him. 

“Whatever it is that you are,” he says, meeting your eyes, “I’m here to take care of you. Okay? Try to calm down for me.” He nods, hoping you’ll nod back no doubt. You worry at your lip, your teeth scratching delicate skin. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“No one’s expecting you to feel a certain way right now,” Sirius says.

The urgency in his expression has departed completely. He has an air of regret about him now, an uncomfortable set to his jaw. 

It’s not just James in the room witnessing your wobble. You cover your face again and try to become one with the furniture. 

James stands off of his knees, having seemingly decided that you aren’t in any mental peril. He stays hovering behind your chair. You think you might’ve found them all at a loss for what to do. 

The door opens. You imagine a nightmare, Julianna coming to play nice, but it’s the British ambassador Lily once again. She looks as perfect as she did when you saw her last with an immaculately straightened sheet of hair fluttering behind her, her steps hurried. Despite her speed, she doesn’t look unhappy. She’s smiling. The Genovian ambassador Emmeline follows behind her. 

You try to straighten up. 

“We have wonderful news,” Lily says.

“You’re the Princess!” Emmeline squeaks, her tiny stature no bounds for her excitement. “Welcome home!”

She begins clapping. It slows when nobody joins in. 

“What?” she asks cluelessly. “Has something bad happened?”

That’s what you’re trying to work out.

—

James can hear you sniffling.

He rests his shoulders against the wall by your bedroom door and sighs. You'd held in tears for hours after the announcement. Sirius' last announcement has toppled you over. You have to meet your grandmother tomorrow to begin preparing for your father's funeral. James thinks you might have reached your breaking point. He can't imagine the grief of losing a father you didn't know you had, and the stress of being pulled out of your life so suddenly, carted across Europe and left under the judgemental eyes of royals and officials with little direction. Now that the paternity test has been found positive and checked by many, many professionals, your confirmed identity should provide a more stable schedule. From James’ perspective, the days ahead will be easy. For you, they are going to be very, very hard. 

You'll meet the Queen tomorrow at breakfast. The plans for your permanent residency in Genovia will be decided. Your entire life is about to change, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. 

Well… James doesn't really want you to stop it, but it's not entirely true that you can't. You could reject your heritage and go home to your flat, your art, your degree equivalent classes. Maybe you're crying because you're scared you don't have options. 

James thinks about knocking on the door to talk to you. He meant it when he said he has a duty to all aspects of your health, the mental as well as the physical, but it's difficult to define the line between professionalism and being friendly. He's already crossed it. 

He sighs and rubs his weary head. He's tired. Today has been the longest day ever. You'd slept for an hour in the car from the airport to Bellaverden Castle, and James had watched you half jealous and half enraptured. He won't mind looking after you no matter how you look, but your being easy on the eyes is a brilliant plus. Well, when ignoring the huge bruise staining your cheek. 

"Fuck," he says. 

He hasn't been doing very well. Honestly, his failure to keep you from harm in your flat (even if the harm had been him) and then his screw up with the paparazzi has left him off kilter.

James pulls out his pager. He should swap with one of the night guards, and he trusts them all, having picked them himself, but he won’t feel right walking away while you're crying. 

He clicks in Remus' code and waits until he hears it back. It's shorthand between them: if Remus wasn't awake or didn't want to see James, he could've ignored James' page and there'd be no hard feelings. But he answered. Tonight, once James has made sure you're okay, he'll crawl into Remus' bed like when they were kids in a cold dormitory and missing home to sleep for a glorious eight hours. He might even tell Remus how stressed he is. He knows his friend will listen. 

He'd invite Sirius, of course, (and that's assuming he isn't already there) if it weren’t well past ten. Sirius is definitely asleep. 

James hasn't had a proper night's sleep in a week. He feels poorly. He misses his mum. He's hungry. This job is great, he loves what he does; he gets paid to take care of people. It's also too much. It eats at him. 

"Fuck," he says again. 

"James?" 

He flinches hard. 

There it is, his third mistake. He's very lucky that the chief of royal security is busy making funeral arrangements, because if Mary were here she'd gut him. 

You've crept up on him in his distraction. How could he not notice your footsteps across the floor, or your door handle's heavy metallic thunk?

"Princess," he says, biting his tongue when you wince. He'll have to call you something else. "I'm sorry, I–" James squints at your sore eyes. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to ask… are you alright?" 

"Am I alright?" 

“I just heard you and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You sounded… stressy." 

"You don't have to worry about me. That's my job." He frowns at the remnants of your tear stains, dampness shining at the corners of your eyes and your lashes sticking together in darkened triangles. "I was just about to come and see you, actually. I know today's been hard, and I know I haven't helped. I'm so sorry, again, for hurting you. And at the airport, I know the scuffle with the photographers didn't help your nerves. I know," he stresses, "this is hard. I swear things will be smoother from now on. You have my word." 

You rub your elbow wordlessly. He's about to backtrack, perhaps dig himself a bigger hole, but then you give him one of the softest smiles anyone's ever given him in all his years. 

"It's forgiven. Believe me, James, this is the least of my worries," you say, gesturing to your cheek. It only takes a second for shame to stick its hooks in you, yanking your gaze to the floor. You're wearing an expression he's seen a thousand times on the people closest to him. 

He flicks you under the chin gently. 

"Things are gonna get easier. I swear it," he says.

You plaster a smile on. James figures he can push it some more and wipes the smudgy shine of old tears off of your cheeks. 

"There. Looking good, angel. Why don’t you try and get some rest now, yeah?" 

He keeps getting this odd feeling like you're an old friend and not his charge. It's fleeting and it's making him stupid. This and the sleep deprivation. He swears to himself he'll be better tomorrow. 

You bid him goodnight. James listens to your night time motions until another guard comes to release him from duty, rushing to his room for a shower and a cereal bar, giving his teeth a half-hearted brush before he sets off for Remus' room halfway across the castle. Remus and the other scarcely employed scholars don't have to sleep in the servant quarters like he and Sirius do. Schmucks.

He finds the door unlatched. Mercifully, James decides to spare them both the safety-related lecture. He tries to be as quiet as he can, a head of sandy brown hair turning his way just two steps into the room.

"James?" Remus asks, his voice thick with fatigue. 

"Sorry. You can go back to sleep." 

"I was waiting for you. Drifted off." 

James scrubs a hand through his damp hair and closes the door. He can find his way in the dark. 

"Sirius isn't here?" 

"James…"

"What, are we still pretending?"

"James."

"I'm sorry. Forgive me, Moony." 

"Yeah. Don't lean on my left side. I'll move over." 

"What's wrong with your left side?" 

"I don't know. Maybe from carrying the bags. Maybe not." 

James slides into the warm space Remus has made for him and tries not to feel overprotective. Loving someone who's constantly in pain can be confusing. You don't know how much love you're allowed to give before it starts to be patronising. Remus can take care of himself, but he doesn't need to. 

"Anything I can do?" James whispers. 

"Tell me what's bothering you." 

"Oh, you know… Everything. Nothing. I'm so happy we're all together again, I mean, what are the fucking odds? How long has it been since I could come and see you guys after work without making an appointment? … I didn't love the Prince, but I hate that he's dead, and I…" 

Remus turns his head to James. They're a pillow apart. When James looks at him, he can't remember what Remus looked like when they were young, but he can feel the years of knowing one another stretching out between them. A straining cast of light from under the door catches the edges of Remus' features. James can see the corner of an uneven smile. 

"Go on," Remus says quietly. 

"She's nice. She's really nice. I don't want her to get hurt, but I don’t know that I’m up to this, Moony."

"James, you're up for everything. Always have been." 

"I thought this was a demotion." 

"Isn't it?" 

"If it is, it's one I deserve. I deserve another one. Once Mary sees the mess I've made…" 

Remus reaches across the sheets to pinch James' bicep. "Nobody is good at their new job. Sirius didn't touch up the princess' bruise when we got off the plane, and while they're paid off for now, someone who needs the better payout is going to publish those photos, and soon. Sirius should've been doing his job, but he was too busy looking after me." 

"I tried to cover it–" 

"I know. You did a good job and I'm not blaming you. My point is that he made a mistake. Does he deserve a demotion?" 

James wrinkles his nose. Hate you.

"And I should've better prepared her for meeting Princess Julianna. It was my fault that she felt embarrassed. I tried my best to fit in some coaching for breakfast tomorrow but the poor girl doesn't know a butter knife from a paring knife." 

"That's not true." 

"No," Remus agrees. "I'm making her seem less educated than she is to prove my own point… James, she isn't a princess. She has the blood, and soon she'll get the official title, the land and the money and the education and maybe some of the bad bits, as well. But right now, she's new to being a princess, and she's not very good at it." 

"I get it." 

"Yeah, I know." 

Remus readjusts in bed. James almost misses the pain in his friend's exhale under the sound of crunching fresh sheets. 

"Are you sure I can't do something for you?" 

"I wish," Remus says. He isn't depressed. The opposite, he sounds way too spritely for the time. "You could stop hogging the blankets, for starters." 

James feeds Remus some more blanket and sighs. The mattress is heavenly. The quilts and sheets and pillowcases are soft and thick. By all means, James should've fallen asleep the second his head touched Remus’ pillow.

"You've asked Mickey to look after her tomorrow, right?" Remus asks. 

James had radio'd Mikkelson after his shower to put the early morning shift and protocols in his jurisdiction temporarily. That means James will hopefully be able to sleep until his body feels like it can hold itself together again. He doesn't like leaving you to face the Queen by yourself but it's not as though she'll hurt you, and Sirius will see you bright and early to help you get dressed. James isn't worried. 

"I have. How did you know that?" 

"You're the only one of us who knows how to properly take care of themselves," Remus explains easily. "Good. I'm glad you did. You haven't been sleeping."

"How do you know that?" 

"I love you. I know everything about you." 

James smiles at the ceiling. There is nothing quite as valuable to him than his family. He would do more to keep them all safe and healthy than he should admit on the record, so he keeps it tucked inside and out of view. It's terrifying and freeing at once to look at someone you love and know you're going to do something awful one day if it means they'll come out on the other side of it alive. 

"Not everything," he murmurs. 

"Everything, James."

"Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up right now." 

"One." 

"Which?" 

"Middle."

"Lucky guess." James laughs at their childish squabbling. "I love you, too. I'm really glad we're in the same place again."

"What did you say? What are the fucking odds?" Remus quotes, so tired now that his words are running together. "I'm not sod enough to do the maths, I think it's gotta be deep in the decimals. Lily's and Mary's involvement definitely helped, but to have someone come along who needs security detail, special education, and a lady in waiting is unfathomable." 

James laughs and feels his abdomen shaking. "I'm telling Sirius you called him a lady in waiting." 

"Sorry," Remus says, and James knows his friend is genuinely repentant, though Sirius would've laughed himself if he'd heard the joke. "I'm not trying to put him down. He's worked so hard, he– He's working so hard. He thinks it's easy work because he's good at it. He doesn't realise it's easy because he worked hard to be good at it." 

James has to chew it over for a moment to understand what Remus is saying. Once he understands, he vehemently agrees. Sirius is skilled in many areas. He's a media liaison, a sleuth, a sweet talker. He understands the inner workings of Western media — Sirius can deduce the honesty of a smile from a precursory glance. He may not always trust what he's seeing, but he sees it undeniably. And he can dress well.

"He's the best of us," James sighs agreeably, stretching down the length of the bed until his spine pops and his calves burn. "Shit. I need to start working out properly again now we're here." 

"Tomorrow. We'll figure it all out tomorrow, James. Go to sleep." 

James is obedient. He falls asleep, and doesn’t wake until the sun is warming his cheeks. His hair is still damp at the back and he feels awful in a new way. Better for having slept with someone close by, and catching up on the hours he’s been missing. But his back is stiff. 

He goes back to his room. His neck aches as he brushes his teeth. He does a workout and stretches his rigid limbs until he feels human again. 

The black telephone on his nightstand starts to ring.

“Hello, sir,” Lily says cheerfully down the line. James can picture her sweet smile. “I couldn’t help but notice your absence this morning.”

“How did it go?” he asks, trying to tug on a new pair of socks one handed. 

Lily hums. “It wasn’t awful. It wasn’t good, but it could’ve been worse. Her majesty liked her. Y/N was quiet, she was awkward, but we all know they prefer quiet to mouthy. The last thing they wanted was another Julianna. I felt kind of bad, really. Like I was handing her over.”

“She…” James sighs. “She didn’t seem upset, did she, Lils?”

“No, I actually think she was feeling good. Your boys took good care of her.”

“Brilliant. Oh, and to answer your unasked question, I’m being slovenly. I’ll be back on duty by noon.”

“Slovenly,” she repeats. “I’ve never known you to be any sort of lazy.” She laughs. James is happy that the sound doesn’t break his heart anymore. “Alright, James. I’ll see you later.”

He appreciates what she’s doing, letting him know you’re okay while he’s away. It’s uncanny how fast the people in charge of your care can band together, and Lily has always been kind.

James gives himself a minute to wipe away yesterday and prepare for today. He closes his eyes and shakes his head ferociously, his hair flying every which way. He sorts through all his worries one by one, letting that anxiety eat at him methodically —he’s a bad bodyguard, he’s a bad friend, he doesn’t call his mum enough, he’s chicken shit scared of dying alone, the works— and then pushing it away. Today is a new day with new opportunities. He can prove to you and to himself that he’s good at his job, he can make sure his friends are doing alright, he can call his mum tonight before dinner, and dying alone? He isn’t dying today. That one’s on the back burner. 

He makes his way from his room in the quarter and into the main building, wary that he might come upon a duke or duchess. His radio, clipped as it always is against his left shoulder, chirps with chatter. He bites back a scolding about keeping the line clear and looks out of a Goliath glass window at the grounds below. A marble water fountain spurts proudly at the foot of the stairs, and an elaborate hedgework stands at pruned attention. It’s a nice day. He wonders if you’ll be up for walking. 

He looks for you in the secondary parlour, the den, the library, the dining room. He swings by your room, and when you aren’t there he admits defeat and unclamps his radio, cutting through an inappropriate joke unapologetically. 

“Afternoon. Location on Princess Y/N?”

He imagines his subordinates scrambling to answer, embarrassed by their unprofessionalism, but it’s likely they just don’t know where you are. 

“If I don’t get an answer in the next five seconds, you can all expect to be running laps tonight. That includes you, Mikkelson, I don’t care how much overtime–”

“Sir, this is Daniels. Me and Roma are with the princess in the south wing.”

“Why?”

“She wanted a pencil sharpener.”

James grins to himself. The south wing (or, as James might put it, the guest wing), houses the scholars, the ambassadors, and whatever government official the royals are trying to butter up at the time. He’s feeling positively joyful when he finds you sketching, your face pressed to the window. The Genovian mountainscapes take shape on your page one confident stroke of graphite at a time, a small leather bound sketchbook pressed flat to your knee.

“Settling in?” he asks. 

You raise your head but not your eyes. “You could say that.”

“How was meeting Her Majesty?”

You frown. 

“That bad?” he asks. 

“No, I mean. You know. She’s a queen. It was terrifying.”

Despite your unhappy mouth, you look as relaxed as you have since the moment he met you, dressed in a casual Genovian dress with subtle but remarkable stitching a shade darker than the dress itself and a squared neckline. Your calves are out and glossy in the daylight. They’re rather distracting. 

“You look good,” James says carefully. 

“I’ll miss the fancy lotions,” you say. Your pencil scratches away. 

James’ hands falter where they’re clasped behind his back. “What?”

You meet his eyes properly. He hadn’t realised you’d been avoiding his gaze until you weren’t, your face ringed with guilt, an explanation slow to come. 

“I’m not staying. I can’t be a princess, James.” You shake your head mildly. “I’m going home.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thanks so much for reading! oh no, you want to go home!! rest assured, james and co aren’t letting you go too easily. i hope you enjoyed, reblogs are always appreciated, a thousand kisses for all of you either way <3<3

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Two

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Two: Commercial Problems

Summary: While Charlie goes to speak to Heaven, the hotel tries to put together a proper TV advertisement (with many interruptions)

            (Y/N) had decided they didn’t like the extermination. The screams, the explosions, the angels—it was frustrating. Luckily, in the Hotel, they were removed from the killing and could just sit and wait for things to finish. However, Alastor had gathered everyone together to “show them something” (which, as everyone had learned already, meant everyone was about to be made fun of).

            Alastor switched on the old-timey TV he had permitted in the hotel, and it turned on to reveal an…ad?

            “Well, hello there you wayward sinner!” said Alastor’s voice as it displayed him pointing at two fighting demons. “Do you like bloody, violence, and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell!” The camera zoomed out to reveal a destroyed quarter of Hell. “But what would you say if there was a place to stay that had none of that?” The camera switched to the hotel. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter!”

            The camera faced Charlie, and she waved hesitantly. “Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your fate in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun things! Such as a somewhat functional staff, and twenty-four-hour pest control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversations with our only two guests!” The camera faced Angel and (Y/N). Angel gave the middle finger, and (Y/N) narrowed their eyes, knowing something was up. “Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!”

            The video ended, and everyone stared while Alastor perked up, proud of himself.

            “So, what’d ya think?” he said.

            “I’m sorry, what the fuck was that?” said Vaggie angrily.

            “Uh, yeah, one note…” said Charlie awkwardly. “Alastor, I mean—First off, thank you so much for making this, it’s seriously amazing—but, um, maybe the tone is a bit off?” Alastor’s grin just darkened. “We want people to want to come here. This makes it look, um…”

            “Fucking depressing,” suggested (Y/N).

            “Funny. I was going for hilarious!” said Alastor.

            Vaggie narrowed her eyes. “It didn’t explain anything about how we’re trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point.”

            “Vaggie is right, Alastor,” said Charlie. “The commercial was to let Sinners know we are trying to help them!”

            “Well, my dear, I haven’t been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show!” Alastor’s grin widened. “The proper medium to express oneself. But you insist on this: a noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it.”

            “Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it?” said Vaggie. She crossed her arms. “Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel. Instead, you’re mocking us! Nobody’s going to want to come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

            Angel raised his hand.

            “What?” said Vaggie.

            “If ya filmin’ a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” said Angel, posing.

            “Ew,” said (Y/N), and Angel stuck out his tongue at them. Neither took it to heart. (Y/N) liked being able to speak their mind in Hell, and Angel would just give an equally witty retort when they did, so they both thrived in conversation.

            “Angel, you’re a porn star,” said Vaggie.

            “A famous porn star,” said Angel. “I’ll have the horniest sinners knockin’ these walls down to get in.”

            “I would really prefer not to have perverts in the hotel,” said (Y/N), making a face.

            “Yeah, no!” said Vaggie. “Not only do we have a kid here, but filming porn as the commercial is completely out of the question!”

            “Sex sells,” said Angel. “I swear, if you film me goin’ at it with Mr. Fancy-Talk-Creepy-Voice here, you’d be rollin’ in participants willin’ to stay at the tacky hotel.”

            Alastor looked unimpressed. “Haha! Never going to happen. Besides, like Vagatha said, we couldn’t create such an environment for an impressionable child. What would Charlie think?”

            “Yeah, it sounds like a bad idea…” said Charlie, looking at (Y/N).

            “Is everyone choosing to ignore the fact I killed people?” said (Y/N).

            “Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but I really don’t want to exploit you in that way,” said Charlie, smiling.

            “Oh, please, baby. This body was made to be exploited,” said Angel. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, I got the legs, the gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff everyone thinks are tits—”

            “Should I just say ‘ew’ after everything you say to get you to stop?” said (Y/N).

            “Won’t stop me!” declared Angel.

            Charlie’s phone went off, and she hurriedly picked it up. “Uh, hold that thought. I’ll be right back!” She walked off to answer.

            “Hey, I have a question,” said Angel. He looked at Alastor. “If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can’t he just make people stay here?”

            Alastor laughed. “Oh, trust me. I can.”

            “Why do you think I’m here?” said Husk. “You actually think I’d be cleaning bottles and listening to you fucks bitch and moan all the time if he wasn’t forcin’ me?”

            “What, you don’t love being here with me, Whiskers?” teased Angel.

            “Call me ‘Whiskers’ again, and I’ll jam that bottle down your throat,” threatened Husk.

            “Kinky! Come on, keep talkin’ dirty!” said Angel.

            “Until you let me have a drink, I’m not happy you’re here,” muttered (Y/N), glaring at Husk.

            “Princess over there says no, so no,” said Husk.

            “What the fuck is the point of being in Hell if I don’t get to do anything fun?” grumbled (Y/N).

            “I agree! Why not let the child have a good time? That’s what the hotel is for,” said Alastor.

            “See? He agrees,” said (Y/N), gesturing to Alastor.

            “That is a terrible argument,” said Vaggie. “He just wants you to get into trouble!”

            “I’m in Hell. What more could I do without making a deal with someone, which I’m not doing?” said (Y/N).

            “Indeed,” said Alastor, nodding. “Why not enjoy some entertainment and enjoy oneself?”

            “Stop it,” hissed Vaggie. “This is supposed to be about rehabilitation and redemption, people choosing to stay here.”

            “I’m choosing to stay here, and I think it’s all stupid,” said Angel. “We’re in Hell, toots. That’s kind of the end of the road, ain’t it?”

            “Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be,” said Vaggie. “Just because nobody has made it out before doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

            “Hey, whatever means I can keep crashin’ here rent-free,” said Angel. “Crack is expensive.”

            “Haha! Yes!” cheered Charlie, bounding back into the room. “Vaggie! Holy shit!”

            “What?” asked Vaggie.

            Charlie gestured for her to come over, and Vaggie smiled fondly at her girlfriend before walking over. (Y/N) and Angel exchanged inquisitive looks. A moment later, Charlie slipped into song, which meant she was super excited.

(Charlie) “I can do this, Somehow, I know it, I’ll get Heaven behind my plan!”

            So she’s meeting with Heaven? thought (Y/N).

            “Charlie, hold on,” said Vaggie nervously.

(Charlie) “There’s just no way I could blow it! Not this once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

            “It’s just a meeting,” said Vaggie.

(Charlie) “To change their minds, And touch their hearts, Or whatever angels have.”

            “This could be bad,” said Vaggie.

(Charlie) “Cheer up, Vaggie! This could be swell! Something tells me that today will be a happy day, In Hell!”

            “Okay, but just…don’t sing to them,” advised Vaggie.

            “She’s gone,” said (Y/N).

            “That bitch is halfway down the street,” laughed Angel as everyone looked out the door to watch Charlie go.

            “Is she—”

            “She’s dancing, yeah,” confirmed (Y/N).

            Vaggie groaned. “Ugh, no.”

            “Is this going to go badly?” asked (Y/N).

            “It might go alright,” said Vaggie optimistically.

            “It’s going to be an absolute travesty,” said Alastor brightly.

            “In an entertaining way or in the way that we’re going to end up in trouble?” said (Y/N).

            “Both, hopefully!” said Alastor, looking forward for his own amusement.

            Vaggie groaned and put her head in her hands.

            “Well, I’m gonna go out and find something actually fun to do!” chirped Angel.

            “No, nope, nobody’s going anywhere!” said Vaggie. “We’re all sitting down and making a proper commercial that actually helps the hotel!”

            “Uh-oh, does that mean you expect me to be involved?” said (Y/N).

            “Yes,” said Vaggie.

            “I hate being told what to do,” said (Y/N).

            “Tough shit,” said Vaggie.

l

            “Okay, so Charlie is dealing with something very important,” said Vaggie once she had cornered everyone in one room. “So while she’s gone, we are making a new commercial. One that represents her vision and what we’re doing here. So, we need a camera. Alastor?”

            He snapped his finger, and an old-fashioned photographic camera appeared.

            Vaggie deadpanned. “A video camera.”

            “Hm.” Alastor was unimpressed with the idea, but he snapped his fingers nonetheless and let a video camera appear.

            “Alright, let’s do this!” said Vaggie.

            First up was a scene with Husk and Angel.

            “And…action!” said Vaggie, pointing the camera at them.

            “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel,” said Husk, reading from the script. “Can I help you with anything?”

            “I’ve been a bad boy,” said Angel. “And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place! On the path to redemption!”

            “Well, you’ve come—”

            “Oh, yes!” Angel cut off Husk.

            “To the right place,” finished Husk, rolling his eyes.

            “Cut,” said Vaggie, sighing. “Okay, Angel, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Husk, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face?”

            “I ain’t no actor!” said Husk. “I can’t memorize this shit!”

            “Well, we could always improv this shit, Baby cakes,” purred Angel.

            Husk shoved him off the counter.

            Vaggie sighed and looked back at (Y/N) and Alastor.

            “This is going great,” said (Y/N) with a grin.

            “Oh, yes, splendidly!” said Alastor.

            Vaggie growled and was tempted to grab her spear as she was faced with shit-eating grins.

l

            Next was Niffty’s scene, but she was more interested in stabbing insects than she was the camera.

            “Stab, stab, stab!” said Niffty.

            “Alright, Niffty! Niffty!” said Vaggie, catching her attention. “Your line is ‘We have the cleanest rooms.’ Okay?”

            “Got it! I’m ready!” said Niffty.

            “Action.” Vaggie turned on the camera.

            Niffty’s smile fell, and she stared, wide-eyed, at the camera.

            “Uh…cut,” said Vaggie, slightly unnerved.

            “How was that?” said Niffty, smiling.

            “Well, Niffty, you actually have to say the line. Let’s roll again,” said Vaggie.

            “Okay!” said Niffty.

            “Action,” said Vaggie.

            Niffty once again just stared, empty-eyed.

            “You’re doing great, Vagina,” whispered Angel.

            “Cut!” shouted Vaggie. “Alright, um, maybe we can try to fix it in post.”

            “Do you even know what that means?” teased Angel.

            “I’ll figure it out!” snapped Vaggie. “(Y/N), Alastor, you’re up.”

            “No, I don’t get on camera,” said Alastor, dismissing the word “camera” distastefully.

            “I don’t want any attention,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms. They really weren’t a fan of having people stare at them, and a commercial would do that, especially for something as crazy as this.

            Vaggie glared. “This is for Charlie.”

            Alastor and (Y/N) remained unmoved and crossed their arms.

            Vaggie cursed under her breath.

l

            (Y/N) knocked on the door of the room Vaggie was using to rewatch the footage she’d managed to get.

            “What?” snapped Vaggie.

            “Listen, I don’t want to be on camera,” said (Y/N), holding up their hands. “I really don’t. But if I can help in some other way, I’ll do it.”

            Vaggie groaned and put her head on her hands. “I don’t know how you can help. It all sucks.”

            “Yes, seems like you’re having a bit of trouble there, hm?” said Alastor, popping out of the shadows.

            “Why are you even here?” snapped Vaggie.

            “For the entertainment!” said Alastor, shrugging. “I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly!” He beamed at Vaggie. “Like you are doing now! Good job!”

            Vaggie narrowed her eyes and pointed the video camera at Alastor. “And here’s Alastor, the egocentric piece of shit that—” the camera buzzed with electricity, and Vaggie was forced to drop it as it sparked.

            “I wouldn’t try that, my dear,” said Alastor. “This face was made for radio.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they were struck with Alastor’s intimidating presence once again. Holy hell, they wanted strength like that.

            “I don’t care who or what you are!” said Vaggie ferociously. “If you are staying here, you are going to make this work! Because it won’t be so ‘entertaining’ to watch over an empty hotel, will it, shitass?!”

            “Fair enough! I’ll tell you what,” said Alastor. “Let’s make a deal.”

            Vaggie scoffed. “Do you think I’m that stupid? Making a deal with a demon like you.”

            “Not for your soul,” scoffed Alastor. “Just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again.”

            “You really hate tv,” said (Y/N).

            “It’s the worst medium for expressing oneself,” said Alastor distastefully. “So petty and uninspired.”

            “That’s all you want?” said Vaggie, furrowing her brow.

            “That, or Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing,” said Alastor brightly. “Your choice.”

            Vaggie sighed. “Fine.” She put the broken camera in Alastor’s hand, and it disappeared.

            Green light surrounded him, and he snapped his fingers. “Now, then!”

            Everyone appeared in the room and got 1920s themed outfits, and a camera crew of shadows appeared ready to serve.

            Vaggie smiled. “Alright, everyone! Let’s make a fucking commercial!”

            (Y/N) took a careful step back while Vaggie grabbed the others to film.

            “Still not interested?” said Alastor, amused.

            “I don’t want to be on camera,” said (Y/N), making a face and shaking their head.

            “What do you think of radio?” said Alastor.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Better than podcasts.”

            Alastor’s grin widened, and he nodded in satisfaction. That was the correct answer.

l

            “Charlie!” Vaggie hugged her girlfriend as she finally returned to the hotel. “How’d it go? Did they listen?”

            “Oh, uh, they sure did hear it! But, uh…” Charlie trailed off nervously.

            “Oh, come here! We have something exciting to show you!” said Vaggie. “Alastor pulled some strings, and it’s about to air!”

            “I pulled a few limbs, too!” laughed Alastor. (Y/N) snickered.

            “Wait? The commercial?” said Charlie, eyes widening. “You all made a new one?”

            “Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do say so myself,” said Angel proudly.

            “That’s…that’s amazing!” Charlie’s eyes shone with emotion.

            “Shush, it’s starting!” said Angel.

            The TV showed them in their outfits. ((Y/N) had contributed by filming). “Welcome to the Hazbin Ho—”

            Vaggie’s lines were cut off as the TV switched to a “Breaking News” sign, and the residents and staff of Hazbin Hotel grumbled.

            “Breaking news in Hell today!” said Katie Killjoy as she came onscreen. “We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before. Do you know what that means, Tom?”

            “No, what does it mean, Katie?” asked Tom Trench.

            “It means we are all royally fucked,” cursed Katie.

            The camera switched to the countdown clock as it cut in half to 176 days.

            “Wait…what?! Why?!” cried Angel.

            “Holy shit,” said (Y/N), eyes widening. Their situation had just gotten worse. They were in more danger.

            And they still had no way to defend themself.

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

@dmitrytherat

@a-small-tyrant

@marxo5

@rory-cakes

@andsoigotabutterfly

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-ten

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I don't think you guys understand how broken this gif made me Fuck, creating it killed me! Also, during the hotel scene, listen to snuff by slipknot. It's on the playlist! Some eggs from other songs on the playlist throughout the chapter as well! Enjoy my loves!

Tags: @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here

NICK R.

My heart raced as Jolly and I met each other in the dimly lit hotel hallway, sleep still heavy in our eyes and bones. When he called me a few minutes ago, I rushed out of bed where I was crashing in Matt’s room and knew that it could have been about one thing.

Noah.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jolly ran a hand over his exhausted face. “I don’t know. I haven’t walked inside yet and I’m afraid of what I’m going to see.”

“Y/N. He kicked me out earlier tonight because she was coming by,” I said, remembering suddenly.

“Shit,” Jolly cursed before nodding behind me towards Folio. “No matter what we walk into, we don’t judge him. Whatever happened fucked him up enough that he needs to write a song at three in the morning.”

Folio agreed. “How bad is he?”

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

Jolly turned towards the door and knocked gently.

“Yeah.”

The voice that called back was not Noah; this voice sounded broken, and distant, with the single word that was uttered.

“It’s me,” Jolly spoke through the door.

Realizing that Noah was most likely not in a state to answer the door, I handed Jolly my room key and we all sucked in a breath when the light on the lock turned green; us walking into the room one at a time. There was music playing, soft beats echoing off the wall, and I hoped no one would complain to the front desk about the noise.

My bed was still as I left it but Noah’s bed was disheveled with a pair of underwear that clearly weren’t his and a small piece of what I expected was a condom wrapper. Noah’s original clothes from earlier that evening were on the floor at the edge of the bed.

Shit.

Noah was on the floor leaning against the wall with a bottle of Hennessy in hand, more than half gone, and his hair was in a disarray of braids.

“Noah,” Jolly said quietly while bending down in front of him.

He waved a hand in front of his face as his head bobbed slowly. “I’m good, man. I just wanted to get this beat down. It’s in my head.”

“She wouldn’t stay, would she?” I questioned while motioning towards the bed.

“Didn’t need to. Jus’ friends. ‘S’all it’s come to. She didn’t need to and I don’t really fucking care. I don’t. No sweat off ma back,” he finished the rest of the bottle before letting it slip from his fingers. “I’m fine. F.I.N.E.”

The three of us shared a painful wince as he spelled out the word two more times.

As if whoever was watching over us from above, just then that specific song by Too Close To Touch came blasting through the small portable speaker Noah always brought with.

“See?” Noah pointed to the air around him. “Even fucking Keaton is telling you guys I’m fine.”

But then, he slammed his head against the wall behind him as his bottom lip trembled, his chest caving in at hearing his best friend's voice play throughout the room. Noah was only rubbing more salt in his wounds and fuck, they burned.

“Why the fuck aren’t you here, man?” he choked out. “You knew her better than us. What did I do? Why’d she leave?”

Keaton’s name felt like ice in our hearts and I knew it was a stabbing pain through Noah’s chest.

“Whatever,” Noah grumbled, wiping angrily at his face. “Her decision; bad decision. Fuck her. I need to write.”

“Noah, come on, don’t say shit you’re gonna regret,” Folio spoke. “You can’t write when you’re drunk. You know that.”

“M’not. She jus’ my good friend. I fucking knew I wasn’t enough for her.”

He was far gone, not even realizing that Folio and I stood behind Jolly, our own somber expressions weighing heavily on our faces.

Finally, his eyes opened and when he saw all three of us, Noah groaned.

“Oh, great ya called them?” He pointed towards us. “I don wanna hear I told you so, erm stubborn. Yadayadsa.”

His words slurred together, stumbling over his tongue.

Folio peered around the room, counting the empty bottles. “I’m counting two.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Apparently he’s been sitting here awhile.”

“You know I can’t stay; you deserve better than me,” Noah chuckled, imitating Y/N’s voice.

Jolly peered over his shoulder at us and his lips were pulled in a tight line, all of us thinking the same thing.

“Noah” I sighed with my hands on my hips.

His head snapped up, eyes red with tears so close to falling but they wouldn’t. Noah was always in control of his emotions; he refused to cry in front of us.

“She told me what I felt, she told me what I wanted and what I didn’t. Didn’t give me a fucking say about anything before she walked the fuck out. Left. Gone,” he rambled on.

“She’s going through-,” Folio started.

“Fuck that,” Noah seethed with clenched fists in his lap. “I don’-don’t care right now, in this moment. She fucking stole my heart and took it with ‘er. Jus’ friends.”

The last two words sounded bitter on his tongue, like acid.

While we let him wallow in the pain, I motioned for Jolly and Folio to walk to the other side of the room, out of earshot from Noah.

“Should we ask Malcom or Chase what the fuck happened?” Jolly asked.

“Do you think she told them?” Folio wondered.

I shrugged while crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t doubt that. She likes him, we know she does. It’s clear.”

“Then why did she leave?” Jolly questioned, his own pain for Noah making his jaw clench. “What the fuck happened to make her leave?”

I gazed over to Noah, my heart falling into my stomach at the broken sight of my brother. “He jumped. He jumped but Y/N wasn’t there yet.”

The three of us made a quick plan of action before Jolly and Folio went to help Noah up off the floor, his limp body dragging on the floor.

“Noah let’s get into bed,” Folio suggested.

“No. I need to finish this beat, and these fuckin’ lyrics in my head,” he pushed himself away from them, standing on two shaky feet but standing. He smacked his forehead over and over.

Jolly nodded. “We will, but first you need to get some sleep.”

He glared at the bed in front of him, a mess of the decision they made together.

“…the pillow.. she was on that one,” Noah pointed. “It smells like that fucking perfume, I don-wanna inhale that shit right now.”

There was so much venom in his voice when he spoke about Y/N and there was a part of me that hoped this wouldn’t last long. He had every right to be upset with her; he gave her his heart, and she walked away.

“Alright, then let’s get you some sleep in mine,” I said.

He licked his lips, an unreadable look flashing in bloodshot eyes. “I still fucking taste her. It’s a poison that I should have fucking avoided.”

“Can’t help you with that, brother,” Folio tried to joke.

No one laughed

“No. I need to finish this-,” Noah stumbled over to his suitcase to snatch a piece of paper and pen, something he always kept on him.

I stepped in front of him to hold him steady, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. It was as if it was trying to break free to chase after Y/N; just for her to stomp on it again.

No, I shook my head, you can’t let your own anger deter you from trying to fix Noah. You can be angry about the situation but not her. It’s no one's fault.

“You don’t like to write when you’re not home,” I tried to take the pen and paper away from him.

“I don’ care nicKLas.” He pushed past me to fall onto his bed, ass first on the pillow. “I have to, right now.”

Sensing the sudden thick tension, not knowing what the next thing would be that would set him off, Jolly gave a slow nod toward Noah.

“Alright. Let it go, man. Let us hear it.”

Even though they weren’t written down, Noah still burned his gaze into the empty page in front of him. Through the slurred words, the ache that poured out of him brought chills to my bones.

“How quick it gets lonely here at the top. Her skin feels unholy but I’m still drawn. The morals I’m holding, you know they’re gone.”

Fuck, that was good.

Noah’s eyes snapped over to us. “Why aren’t you helping me get down this beat?”

I held my arms out to the empty room. “We don’t have our stuff here Noah, this isn’t usually how we do this.”

“Fuck,” he ran a shaky hand over his chin. “Ok well then here! Voice clip it.”

While he tossed his phone to Jolly, who barely caught it in time, I gave Folio a look of luck before slipping out of the room, almost running into Matt who stood at the open doorway.

“Who the fuck is blasting Snuff by Slipknot at four in the morning?” He asked with fury.

No doubt someone called the front desk and complained who in turn complained to Matt.

“Woah, what the fuck is going on right now?” Matt took a tentative step into the room, eyeing the situation.

“Didn’t you hear, fucker?” Noah whipped his head towards us so fast, that the braids smacked around his face. “She ran away, she’s the fuckin same.”

He hiccuped a sob. “Angels lie to keep control.”

“Fuck's sake,” Jolly pinched his nose with a sigh.

I gave Matt’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep an eye on Noah, he’s not in a good place right now.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me-,” he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his sweater.

“Just- let me handle it man,” I slipped past him out of the room and quick steps took me to the elevator.

I bounced on the soles of my feet as I repeatedly pushed the down floor button and cursed when the doors finally opened. Blackness took over as I let the images of Noah sitting there broken carry me to the room, hand pounding on the door.

Time be damned. I couldn't care less if she was asleep right now. How could she be asleep while my best friend, my brother, was fucking dying on the inside?

Not again. I refused to let him sink for another.

“Nick?” Chase squinted with the sudden light blasting in from the hallway. “Everything alright?”

“Where is she?”

He continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes. “Who? Y/N?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Is she here?”

I tried to peer past him but only saw someone with auburn curls walk behind Chase, leaving a gentle hand on his back. “What’s going on?”

“Nick’s looking for Y/N,” Chase informed Malcolm.

He stared at me confused. “Last I heard she was going to hang out with Noah. Did something happen?”

“What the fuck do you think?” I snapped but then let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole but she left. Noah’s a fucking wreck. It seemed like they had a great time- so what’s the deal? I thought she cared for him. Why, why would she hurt my friend?”

I was the middle child, great at negotiating, great at being the middle man. The one who would try to settle things. I was on Noah’s side with this one, she’s my friend, but he’s my brother. Even I didn’t see this coming. I tried to remain neutral when I asked them and tried not to look annoyed.

“Dude- she does, she cares for him a lot,” Malcolm spoke while tying up his curls. “Noah makes her so happy. We haven’t seen her glow like that in years, I just- I don’t know. We don’t know why she would leave. Unless…”

Chase quickly pushed Malcolm back into the room slightly. “Dude, no. That’s not our business to tell. She has to be the one to decide.”

“What?!” I asked.

They knew something, and I needed to know; right now.

“That’s her business, not ours,” Chase said, rubbing his head.

“What?,” I scoffed. “Is she fucking dying or something? Is she okay?”

“No, no, she’s fine. All I’ll say is she does things in her life that can require extra attention. But like I said, that’s not for us to discuss, even with you man, sorry,” he pauses and says again. “Is he- is Noah alright?”

“Honestly? No. He isn’t, he’s drunk and writing right now. He’s gonna feel like hell when we have to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

Malcolm sighed. “I’m sorry dude. When Y/N comes back, we’re going to have to have a long talk. We know she cares for your friend, Nick. Her heart is in the right place- we just don’t know where the hell her mind is. We’ll figure it out.”

I nod and smile slightly, in agreement. My eyes want to convey a lot more. Y/N’s a good person, but she broke my friend's heart tonight. This is why I was so hesitant about this relationship with him and Y/N. I warned Noah not to jump yet, but he did.

All I could do right now until she came back was nod a quick thanks to them and hope that Y/N would confide in them. I wanted to fix my friend's broken soul so often, and so often I tried and succeeded. I wasn’t sure I could with this one- I needed to let them go through this on their own. But I’ll be damned if I let my friend suffer.

“Alright well, let me know what you find out, please.”

“Absolutely, anytime man. We’ll talk,” Chase reassured with a nod, Malcolm bumping fists with mine.

When I made it back to Noah’s room, I noticed the guys huddled around Noah’s slumped body in the bed, clutching the pillow Y/N laid on close to his chest, snoring loudly, and another empty bottle of Hennessy next to him.

“Shit,” I breathed. “Another one?”

Matt sighed defeated. “We tried, man. But his strength when he’s drunk and angry is something not to mess with. You know that.”

I nodded because I knew that. All too well.

“He only fell asleep about five minutes ago. I don’t know how we’re going to get him up in two hours so we can make our flights,” Folio wondered.

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured them. “Did he finish writing?”

“Yeah,” Matt slowly went towards the end of the bed, gently pulling the book from under Noah’s arm; pen falling from his hands.

“What does it say?” My brows raised as I took the paper in my hands; my brothers' broken words staring back at me.

Bitter ends to the nights. I’m along for the ride. Out of breath, out of time. Everything has a price. You can be all I got, what’s the difference? Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions. All I know, all I know is bad, bad decisions.

“Gotta admit, it’s fucking good,” Jolly said while he read the lyrics over my shoulder.

I bit my lip. “Yeah.”

Folio yawned loudly while stretching, exhausted body falling onto my bed. “Get ready boys because once we’re home, we won’t have a moment of peace. We’re writing a new record.”

NICK R.

You could cut the tension with a knife in this boarding gate right now.

The sun barely broke through the thick glass of the windows as Bad Omens and Hollow Souls sat on other ends of the gate, waiting for our flights to be called. With tired but intent eyes, I watched Noah as he kept his eyes cast down to his hands, fingers intertwining with each other as he picked away the black nail polish. It was as though it was his subconscious way of chipping pieces of Y/N away, the way he washed his hands in the restroom earlier, scrubbing her off him.

His nails were surely, going to bleed if he kept picking at them, I wanted to intervene, say stop that. I needed him to process his feelings. I so badly wanted to scream in this airport, wake the fuck up, to them both. But I kept my reservations.

And just like him, Y/N looked rough. It was clear neither of them, or well any of us got any sleep last night.

Where the fuck did they go so wrong together?

Noah had been a fan of hers ever since that night on my pull-out couch but the first time they met each other almost 2 months ago, their eyes were bright with a vibrant gaze. Almost like searchlights attempting to find something. The lights found it, but they were almost too intense, almost like bystanders. Through all the confusion, I knew deep within me it wouldn’t be long until the searchlights were searching again, just a matter of when.

Us?

We weren’t allowed to see what was being found. We should have looked away, and avoided the crash. But to see them now, those same eyes swollen, discolored and raw red, the blood vessels wanting to leave their faces made it harder to look away.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, now out of the braids and cascading around his shoulder, and let his eyes graze over towards Y/N, who was resting her head against Chase's shoulder. It was brief, the look of agony in them, but he looked away before she could catch him.

The airline called out for Vegas first; Chase and Y/N’s flight. Then our flight back home to LA was called out seconds later.

Those two sets of eyes, continue to gaze and plead and beg until their shoulders are tapped, Jolly to Noah and Chase to Y/N. As he stood, Noah adjusted the bag on his shoulder and waved his fingers in a peace sign toward the three members of Hollow Souls. This wasn’t how we wanted our new friendships and tour to end.

He wants to be in her life. He still does, otherwise, he wouldn’t have done that. I thought to myself as I noticed Y/N gave her one peace sign to all of us.

She’s sorry, she wants him in her life and regrets it.

I could fucking see it. This was going to be a long ride with these two.

As we all stood with our carry-on bags, ready to walk towards our gate, I gave Chase a knowing nod who immediately pulled out his phone, avoiding the eyes of Y/N, to send me a message.

I’ll tell you everything

Noah slept the entire flight, not speaking a word or even opening his eyes. Now, as we pulled up to the house he said with Jolly, Orie, Michael, and Jesse, Noah still had yet to say one word. Folio offered to stay with but we knew he had someone to meet back home in Virginia so we told him we had it from here.

“You sure?” Folio asked before we boarded the plane.

I nodded. “Yeah, go back to Virgina. Tell her we said hey.”

I, on the other hand, was a different story.

“I’m not going home right now,” I told Noah as I set my bags down in their living room. They had little extra space, but I didn’t care. I’d sleep on the couch as long as I was near my brother. “I won’t leave you in this state, Noah.”

“Nick, I’m a grown man. I’ll be alright,” he sighed while popping open the bottle of aspirin, and swallowing two pills dry.

For the hangover.

“I know you are,” I nodded. “Just let me be there for you, okay?”

NOAH

If it wasn’t terrible enough that not only did my fucking love life shut down, but the world had to as well?

Two months. It’s been almost two months since the tour ended and this pandemic took over the world, forcing us to stay stuck inside. While the rest of the guys went stir-crazy after the first few weeks, I spent the solace writing, drinking, and trying to forget about her.

The latter lasted only a few minutes once we returned home; her scent being stained into my skin, her touch engraved deep into my bones it made it hard to get out of bed. I see her in all my mirrors. Her reflection was haunting me relentlessly like a ghost.

Hennessy and Jack have become my friends in the last few weeks at home. I knew the guys were worried; I didn’t need them to worry. I was fine.

Y/N and I are friends.

Right, then how come you haven’t texted her in weeks?

Because she’s been busy with the move, I retorted back to my own thoughts.

Malcolm texted our Hollow Omens group chat to let us know that Y/N was settling in nicely in their new apartment in Los Angeles. We can come by anytime for a housewarming party but immediately I ignored that. Wouldn’t it be fucking awkward?

Trey wasn’t home when she and Chase showed up to pack her things so they could leave without incident.

Even with her cat Salem.

Chase sent a few pictures of the cat in the group chat, long black fur lying on his chest. I never responded, simply liking the messages before setting my phone on silent the rest of the night. I noticed that Y/N rarely ever responded in the chat as well, only when Chase or Malcolm would ask her something but she would only reply with emojis or a short ‘ok.’

The pandemic was only getting started and I could feel the suffocation kick in. I felt alone; utterly alone. I put all my heart into this one woman, a woman I yearned for, for a long time.

The loud ringing of the doorbell pulled me from my melancholy thoughts and I sighed, almost forgetting I ordered food an hour ago. I was in such a trance I hadn’t realized the noise of the loud bell eased me out of my rocking back and forth on the couch.

I didn’t even notice I did that.

I took a massive swig of my jack and clenched my teeth as it burned all the way down my throat, heart racing a mile a minute.

Calm down, calm down.

Time slowed, or passed by in a blaze? I wasn’t sure the longer I sat in the somewhat dark living room, open but untouched food container on the table in front of me as the chicken scratch of my handwriting teased back at me.

Why’s this always gotta happen to me? I should have known. I never fail to never learn from mistakes, still throwing stones. Blood signed, we made it a pact. Yours dried out; you took it back.

The alcohol was like battery acid as I took another large swing of Jack but it wasn’t kicking in strong enough. I kept swinging until the burn covered up my pain.

Harper’s soft whines from her perch next to me on the couch pulled at my heartstrings so knowing Orie wasn’t here, I fed her a few pieces of my cold dinner.

The front door opened, voices carrying from the entryway into the living room and my heart hammered with the panic of them seeing me like this. I hid the bottle under the pillow and tossed the small bag into the garbage from my food.

“Shit, Noah. Why are you sitting in the dark?” Jolly asked while turning on the lamp next to the sofa I was sitting on.

“Hi,” My voice was soft because now with the bright lights, the room was spinning.

“You working on another song?” He eyed the bottle that stuck out from behind the pillow, irritation in his eyes.

They matched my own.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. “Yes, man, what do you think?”

“Don’t be hostile, go eat and let me look over it,” Jolly motioned to my food while he reached for the pad of paper.

“You can’t just tell me what to do,” I snapped while reaching for it before he could.

“Noah, you gotta eat so you don’t get hungover. Let me look at the song,” he took the pad of paper and walked over to the other side of the room. Once he fell into the chair in the corner of the room, Jolly nodded up at me. “Fucking eat, Noah”

I sighed and grabbed my food to chew slowly, “Okay Dad”

Jesse stalked into the living room a few moments later while stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Nick said there might be news of the ban lifting completely by the end of the month. Which means we can get a change of scenery. Might be good for us.”

Holy Hades, this is one of those times I wished I lived alone.

Shortly after getting back home, the pandemic started and Nick ended up getting stuck with us in LA. He didn’t mind, more time for us to hang and chill, but now that procedures were lifting slowly at a time, he took the first opportunity to fly back to Virginia to get things settled there.

“Hey,” Jesse sat on the arm of Jolly’s chair. “Is this another song?”

Even though my head was throbbing with the ongoing hangover, I leaned back into the couch while nodding and Harper now rested her whole body in my lap. “It’s the third one.”

“Oh? Nice! Let me see” He began flipping through the pages.

Normally, I’d jump and take the book from his hands, but right now this room was in spirals. I was sick to my knees. All I wanted to do was call her, and have her tell me it’ll be fine. But I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, and she wasn’t ready to talk to me either.

Clearly.

Malcolm texted me the other day, outside of the Hollow Omens group chat to tell me that Y/N wasn’t doing okay and she missed me. She wanted to talk to me and wanted us over one night when the bans were lifted. But if that was the truth, then how come the last text I had on my phone from her was right before she came to my hotel room that night?

Her unholy skin tasted like the forbidden fruit, all the morals we held that night gone. No gods, no religion. Just our bad decisions. Memories of the way she looked while on top of me burned into my brain and I couldn’t forget the way she felt coming undone.

It paralyzed me so much so that I left Malcolm on read for two days.

Thanks man, glad it worked out. Be in touch.

Snapping out of my drunken thoughts, I noticed Jesse was still reading the pages, not giving a damn I’m leaving my heart out on the table in front of him, bleeding all over while he was reading it.

“Bad Decisions. Nice,” Jesse nodded before flipping back to the new song I was working on. “Nowhere to go? Angsty. I like it.”

I shrugged and stopped mid-chew. “Yeah, I know. It’s what I do, Jesse.”

Arrogant? No, it was smart; I had to channel this shit somewhere. I knew this, no matter what, I’ll always write a fucking song. I wanted to panic, and I did, but the liquor was doing its job.

Jolly went to grab the guitar while Jesse moved to the couch, Harper now lying in his lap.

Traitor.

As I reached for the bottle of Jack this time, Jolly hastily ripped it from my hands and to exhausted to fight, I let him.

“No. Let’s add a chorus to Nowhere To Go, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, I got something in mind.” I took the notebook back to jot some more words down.

After a few moments, I read the entire thing a few times, making sure it was perfect before I gave it to him.

“Start with this?” He asked.

I nodded then soon, my thoughts became words into the air.

“Hear me out, I’m sorry, but I’m a little less than sold. I’ve been around, heard all the stories you said you never told. You’re used to speaking in tongues to feel like you’re in control. Now you’ve got nowhere to run, now you’ve got nowhere to go. Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice?”

“Fuck, that sounds amazing, Noah. Let’s finish this.” Jolly mused,

That night, we finished Bad Decisions and Nowhere to Go.

Folio

Noah began smoking weed again, on top of all the alcohol he’d been consuming the last few weeks, he was on a downward spiral. It was only in small doses but that’s how the drinking started; he took up this faux savior persona.

“I can save myself,” he’d say after one of us would bring up how worried we were about him.

It was a load of shit. Any of us could tell you that.

This was the first time I’d seen him since the tour ended, all those months ago, but time away did nothing to help his mental state. Noah was breaking, piece by piece, and now that the ban lifted, we could visit again. Hence Nick and I were hanging out in their living room, a soft beat of music playing on the speakers.

Noah came bounding down the stairs, smelling of whiskey and weed, eyes glassy, rosy, and filled with rage. His hands were full of ink as he’d been writing nonstop, with everlasting consistency.

As he cascaded, his stomps were harsh, and if he realized it, Noah didn’t give a shit. When he reached into the kitchen and slammed the cupboard door wide open, he grabbed a bag of pita chips with tight force, breaking a few chips no doubt.

“Why are these almost gone? I just fucking bought them?” He snapped with a smart-ass attitude.

All of us eyed each other wearily, unsure how or even if we should respond but it was Orie who muttered under his breath. “We had some with the hummus we bought earlier. Chill the fuck out, Noah. It’s not that deep.”

Noah tossed the bag onto the counter. “It is that deep when it's something of mine. Fucking ass if you want it. Why is it so hard for people to communicate?”

Michael, who usually was the quiet, almost forgotten one, finally snapped. “We’re being patient with you. But we’re not your fucking punching bag.”

Jolly’s head snapped over to Michael from his spot on the floor in front of the couch with wide eyes full of heat, I was sure vanilla ice cream would melt. Jolly was the one who let all of us know to take it easy on Noah; it was a hard time in his life, and the last thing he needed was one of us fighting with him.

Noah hadn’t spoken to Y/N in weeks and we could physically see the imaginary soul ties that bound them together withering away, even though they were within miles of each other now that she lived here. Miles apart but still couldn’t gain the fucking courage to grow up and speak to each other.

Michael sighed his apology while running a hand over his face. “We’re here for you, man. We’re being patient. But you can’t keep going on like this.”

“You’re drowning right now and the painful to watch, you haven’t been this bad in years. Let us help you,” Nick spoke with a shaky breath.

Out of all of us, it hurt him the most to see Noah like this because he’d seen it before; only this time it was worse.

“You can’t help me, nothing to help me with. I’m fine,” Noah shrugged before reaching for another beer.

“You’re in denial and it’s ridiculous,” I said, tired of seeing and hearing the same bullshit. “Noah, I think you should see someone.”

“A shrink? Seriously?” He snorted.

“I think it can help you, besides the way music does,” I offered.

“I don’t need you to help me, I just want the racing to stop. The racing in my mind going miles a minute,” He slammed a finger to the side of his head repeatedly. “We have so much shit to do, and I can’t see anything but what happened right now. It’s a fuckin loop in my brain. Everything just keeps glitching.”

Noah then paced the length of the kitchen, red sweater pulled tightly against his chest and hood over his eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry man, I’m sorry I just- fuck” he spat, a tear fell out of his eye but was quick to wipe it away.

Vulnerability be damned

“We’re your friends, we love you. We were stuck in this fucking house together for months. We can’t go anywhere and you don’t want us to worry? Well, too fucking bad because we do,” Orie explained with a tense-looking Harper in his lap.

She didn’t like the sudden noise but didn’t want to leave her dad.

Noah’s glossy eyes took in all our faces one by one, lingering a few seconds longer than the last.

“I just need time, I don’t know how to handle this, it’s- it’s weird for me. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve fallen this hard, this fast,” he admitted while swallowing the lump in his throat.

That much was true. He’s had exes, one-night stands; hell, he’s been in love before- but I’ve never seen it develop this way. We’ve never seen him fall from such a high altitude this quickly. His guards are usually pointed like sharp knives, but it was so easy for him to dull them down for her.

I only hoped Y/N knew that. This was a big deal. I watched my friend crumble and crack like glass.

Time would only tell when they would repair the damage done here. I only hoped it would soon because we hated to see him bruise so easily. He’s right on the edge I fear, one more thing, one more thing and he’ll fall completely into a darkness we wouldn’t be able to pull him from.

“All I do is drink to numb the pain because all the good days we had together got taken away when my head turned on. I keep asking myself ‘why am I not good enough for her?’ How the fuck can I be good enough for her when I don’t even know what good enough is?”

None of us had an answer for him; the only one that did, he was purposely ignoring.

With a lone tear falling from his eyes, Noah wiped it away with the back of his hand, sniffles echoing in the kitchen.

“It’s so hard to watch myself win when a loser's all I've been.”

NOAH

I lay in my bed, neon glows emanating from behind my bed soaking the walls, as I stared up at the ceiling. My mind was racing so face in pace with my heart and I tried so hard to just breathe; fucking breathe to ease it. This pain was like a burning coal I was walking but within a second, all the pain was gone. I couldn’t take it anymore, the drinking, smoking, and not eating affected my health. I was skin on bones at this point.

Keaton's voice rang in my ears. “You’re a shell, Noah. Holding in these shattered nerves. A skeleton that's lost its skin and desperately wants back in.”

Tattooed hands covered my face as I blew a shaky breath into them.

“I need a sign from you, man. Give me something to know I haven’t messed it up yet,” I cried.

A second later, my phone buzzed from the spot on my bed, and through cloudy tears, I sucked in a breath when I saw Chase’s name appear with a new text.

Chase: Hey man, I haven’t heard from you the last few days, I wanted to check in with you. I know this may seem out of nowhere, but we’re worried about you and just hope you’re doing alright.

I stared up at the ceiling again, my heart relaxing its frenzied beat for a moment. “Thank you.”

Hey, all good. Sorry for the late reply. Appreciate it, doing just fine.

Chase: that’s great, but I’ve been hearing other things, so I don’t buy that. Look, again, this isn’t my place but I know Y/N hurt you that night. I can’t sit here and apologize on her behalf, but, I can at least tell you this: she isn’t doing well either; and as someone with two fucking eyes; I can see how much you mean to each other. Some birdies have been telling me you’re drinking yourself into a coma and acting a fool. I apologize for the harshness, but let me ask you this, do you think Y/N wants another Trey? You’re fucking better than that, aren’t you? Do you want to end up as another deadbeat musician with nothing to show for it but a bottle? No, I don’t know you that well but I can see you’re not that guy.

Do yourself a favor and do fucking better. Because she deserves better and so do you. So y’all can sort this soap opera shit out. Talk to you soon, I fucking hope. ✌️

With my phone clattering to the floor, the message left on read, I continued to lie in my bed; the pillow suffocating my mouth and nose.

“I’m not Trey. I’m fucking better than him,” I sat up quickly in bed, my hangover still raging inside my head.

Music is all I have, it’s all lived for-that was until I met her.

With the small get-together happening downstairs still, I ran to the bathroom across the hall to throw up any contents of lingering alcohol and pita chips. I washed my face and brushed my hair out, for the first time in weeks looking somewhat presentable.

“Get it together, you fucking dick.” I pointed a firm finger at my reflection in the mirror, thankful I didn’t see the ghost of Y/N staring back at me. “Do it for the band, do it for your music. Do it for her.”

To some, my shaky words might not have a strong belief but they did to me. It left me with the belief that miracles, no matter how inexplicable or unbelievable, are real and can occur without regard to the natural order of things. Keaton’s sign proved that.

“Just come back to me,” I whispered with trembling lips.