#he turned 5 a couple days ago :)

[narcjsistx]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐄𝐖... | sae, kaiser, rin

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: you get mentioned in one of their interviews, and he's sooo in love with you <3

— sae itoshi

That Sae didn't like interviews was a well known thing, even the journalists were a little worried when they discovered they had to interview him: although he was a prodigy, a talent never seen in years and years of soccer, he was objectively a thorn in the side, acidic and lethal in words as he was with his shots in the penalty area. All the journalists who had dealt with the Japanese prodigy could say, with absolute certainty, that a slap or being fired was less annoying

And today was no exception. ReAl had just won a very important Spanish cup, but one that Sae didn't actually know much about. They simply told him to be himself, and so he did: the result was a landslide victory against the Venezuelan team, 7-1. The match had been over for less than half an hour and he had already been surrounded by journalists, whom he had pushed away with little courtesy as he headed towards the locker room. But one journalist had insisted more than the others, and with a sigh, the boy had dedicated 5 minutes of his time to him

"Exciting victory today, isn't it? Spain had been aiming for this cup for years but they only won it when you had a place in the team" says the journalist, microphone pointed towards Sae. A man, a little further away, held a video camera on his shoulder, pointed towards them. Sae nods, turning away when he swears he hears someone call out to him in a familiar voice. The reporter continues talking, but Sae pays no attention: that voice sounded so familiar

"So that's a yes?" the reporter says, the microphone still pointed towards him. Sae doesn't even know what question he asked him, but the mere fact that he's still here trying to get information out of him bothers him. "What?" he asks raising an eyebrow, and before the reporter even says it, Sae knows it's about you

“Your girlfriend isn't here today, which is strange considering she's always present at your games, even when they're out of town” the reporter says, probably repeating the words he asked him earlier. Sae isn't even surprised by the question, he already knows what he wants to ask him and mentally thanks himself for not answering with 'yes' at the previous question "Is this a sign that you've broken up? There have been rumors for a while that the feeling between you two is over-"

"No. We have not broken up and at the moment, and even in the future, the option is not in mind for either of us" says the boy without thinking for two seconds, taking the edge of the microphone with one hand, so that his words they arrive very straight. The journalist is surprised

Today, for the first time since you've been together, you couldn't come to his game. You actually haven't seen each other in a while, at least a month, and all the speculation that you had broken up had reached Sae's ears. Everything seemed to fit, the perfect breakup after years of a perfect relationship and a wedding ring on the line that Sae had offered you months ago. Everything seemed to coincide with the end of one of the most talked about relationships of the moment

But the reality is that simply, for university reasons, you had to move to Italy for a few months. Sae often came to you, but couldn't stay for whole days due to training... and so, for just over a month, you hadn't seen each other. If the truth wasn't known, you would actually look like a couple who hated each other by now

“Would you tell us more about all the evidence that has been circulating for over a month?” asks the journalist, and the boy already knows in his mind that the interview will not end well if this damned journalist continues to be so interested in something that does not concern him

Sae sighs. He knows that, from your temporary home in Italy, you are watching him. He knows well that every word he is saying you are listening to him. And it's time to make things clear once and for all,or he thinks he's going crazy

"Y/n and I haven't broken up, it's not on our minds and wedding preparations are currently underway. I hate when people seem so interested in something that actually has nothing to do with them, but I understand that it's your job and that's why I'm holding back from going harder on it" says Sae in one breath "My future wife and I don't have anything remotely negative in mind for our relationship, so if you would do me the favor of mentioning her only when there really is a reason, I would be happy" says Sae, and the journalist is suddenly understanding why all his colleagues had told him to stay away from the Japanese prodigy "So, if you really have questions for me about my performance today, I'll try to answer. Otherwise, bye" he says, handing the microphone back to the man, who takes it completely speechless

The camera shows him leaving, hiding the journalist who is still speechless. The camera zoom focuses on the background of Sae's phone, which appears for a few seconds when the boy takes the phone while heading towards the locker room. A photo of you and him cheek to cheek stands out, a small smile breaking across the boy's face as you laugh. With only this proof alone, literally everybody could definitively say that you didn't break up

— micheal kaiser

Micheal was now used to interviews. Since he had actually become someone, someone relegated to Germany's biggest soccer club, interviews had become an everyday thing, like brushing his teeth or kicking the ball as hard as he could during training. He was good looking, he had charisma, he was definitely one of the most pleasant to interview on his team. If the interviewer was a woman he would crack a few jokes, something to make things more interesting. It was objectively flirting with them, but since you had officially become his girlfriend, he had put a stop to these things, out of respect for you

The room was well furnished, he was sitting on a sofa placed in front of the large windows, which gave a view of the great metropolis of Hamburg. You were with him, sitting behind the cameras on a chair placed there at random. He had insisted to the producers that you appear next to him during the interview, but it wasn't possible. His nose was still a little crooked knowing that they got you that beat up chair by sheer luck. You were his empress, the respect they had for him they had to give to you too, and it hadn't happened

He knew that you didn't really care that much, but your respect was something that, at least in front of him, they couldn't miss. But making a fuss just for this didn't seem right at the moment, at most he would have done it after finishing the interview

A woman enters the room, probably only a few years older than him, in her thirties. She looked familiar, and he wasn't sure why he had a bad feeling. The woman approaches, sitting on one of the armchairs next to him. They could have changed your chair for that armchair, why hadn't they done it?

"It's a real pleasure for me to interview you again. It's been a long time since the first time!" the woman says smiling, and from there Micheal finally understands why he felt like he knew her: a few years ago, before he even met you, he did an interview with this woman. The video had gone viral not for the questions, but for the way it was obvious the two of them were flirting with each other. Not that Micheal was really interested, it was just a habit before he met you

Before he can even say anything, a producer announces the start of the interview. The woman smiles at the camera, giving a brief introduction before moving on to a few questions: they are all things related to soccer, Bastard Munchen and the next match against Italy, which will take place in a few weeks. Micheal relaxes his nerves a little to see that nothing has to do with his private life, and turns around to see you from time to time. You smile softly at him, nodding as a sign that he's going well, really everything is going well

But Kaiser relaxed too soon, unfortunately. "Sooo, the internet world has been wondering this for a while... and now seems like the right opportunity to ask it! We're done with soccer questions anyway, right?" the woman says, chuckling, placing a stack of notes on a nearby table, picking up another. Kaiser tilts his head, and for a moment, he thinks these are the usual questions related to his relationship. Nothing new

"Our first interview was four years ago, when you weren't even dating yet. The internet world wondered for a long time if we were together!" the woman says, with a look that Kaiser recognizes: hoe. He turns to you and for a moment he reads some confusion on your face "The interview went so viral that everyone really thought it was a way to reveal our relationship to the world. But it didn't go that way, unfortunately" says the woman

If he wasn't live nationally and if the interviewer wasn't a woman, he would have already crushed her face with his fist. With what logic does she talk about something like that in front of you, his girlfriend? Where's the fucking respect they're supposed to give you but are lacking in every possible way? Everything is going wrong

“It sure would have been a fun thing to do and-” the woman says speaking casually, but the guy interrupts her “Schatz, could you come over here for a sec?” Kaiser says, shifting his attention solely to you, who finds yourself perplexed for a moment. He's breaking every rule possible, but he doesn't care. If he wants you next to him on national live broadcast, the producers will make you stand next to him on national live broadcast

You get up from the chair a little scared, walking among the producers who mentally and not curse Kaiser. You pass the woman who, with an annoyed look, stares at you. With slightly shaky legs you sit next to Micheal, who immediately grabs you putting his arm around your shoulders, pushing your hip against his. You try to smile as best you can in front of the camera, which records everything. Kaiser squeezes your shoulder slightly, and then turns his face back towards the camera "I don't rule out that that interview made me go viral everywhere for months and months, increasing my fame" says the boy "But my behavior was a bit wrong at the time, I was definitely giving attention to people who shouldn't have been..." says Micheal, and while you try to hold back a laugh, the interviewer opens her paralyzed mouth

Kaiser chuckles at the situation, then continues "The attention that I used to give to random people is now received by her, who deserves it all. The mere fact that she accompanies me everywhere is a valid reason to love her, right?" the boy says, squeezing your shoulder again, and you smile in love "She is simply better. It's not even a competition, because she would win before even starting. Maybe if my girlfriend had been the interviewer that time I would say differently now! Maybe I would have already married her, who knows" Kaiser says, and you tilt your head against his shoulder, leaning on him like you always do. You're so damn in love with him

If the producers and interviewer failed to give you respect behind the scenes and also with annoyance, Kaiser will make sure to prove your worth in front of the whole Germany

— itoshi rin

If there was one thing that distinguished Rin from his teammates, it was the ability to turn each of his interviews into a future edit that would become popular on all social media. He was famous, damn famous, every scene of his was edited by millions of people every day. His interviews, for his fans, were the best opportunity to make scenes about him

And since you had been dating, for a few years now, you had suffered more or less the same treatment as Rin. You often appeared in his interviews, you were loved by his fan base, and the edits about you that went as viral as those of your beloved boyfriend

"...the Australian defense this time had to face a much better prepared Japan than last match" says the interviewer, the microphone held out towards Rin. A match has just ended, obviously won by Japan: Rin is still sweaty, his legs slightly weak from running for practically the entire duration of the match. But he's not sick, he's simply tired and he just wants to kiss you

Of course you came to his game, taking a seat in the VIP section of the players' families. It's a habit that, as soon as the match is over, he comes to the VIP section to kiss you, but this time he couldn't: the journalists completely captured him, making it impossible to even move a few meters

"Yes. We decided to change the defense to prepare for Australia's top scorer, who couldn't do anything this time compared to previous matches" Rin replies disinterestedly, looking for you. There are just so many people, so many players or interviewers, but where the hell are you? Didn't something happen to you?

"It must also be said that Japan no longer has any problems in terms of strikers since you joined as an honorary member of the team" says the interviewer, and Rin nods without actually thinking much about what they told him. He just has a strange feeling, he doesn't understand why he isn't seeing you when it's never been difficult for him to find you in a crowd of people

"Any projects in mind at the moment? On a soccer level or on a personal level?" the interviewer asks, but Rin stops hearing him when, a few meters away from him, he sees you: you're a little lost, your gaze curious while you were probably looking for him too. It makes him somewhat tender to see you like this, but he is happy to know that all his doubts about whether something had happened to you are false

"Mr. Itoshi?" the man asks, but Rin takes a few steps forward, not enough to disappear from the camera lens, to signal to you that he's there. It doesn't take you long to notice, running like a little girl in his direction, hugging him as you wrap your arms around his neck, while he places his hands on your hips. "I couldn't find you!" you say laughing, holding onto your boyfriend who holds you close to him "It's the journalists' fault" Rin whispers, leaving a kiss on your cheek before remembering that he's in the middle of an interview. He turns just enough to see that the camera is now perfectly directed towards you, immortalizing the romantic moment between Japan's number one striker and his beautiful girlfriend. The edits will be crazy this time

You notice that the camera is pointed towards you, and a little embarrassed you try to smile without revealing the hint of discomfort "I'll be back later?" you say to your boyfriend, who before you can even finish the sentence, shakes his head as he grabs your wrist "No. You're coming too" he says walking back towards the station, squeezing your wrist affectionately. You follow him, a little embarrassed but it wasn't the first time it happened, so you had gotten used to it

Rin returns to his seat, his arm around your waist ignoring the fact that he almost slipped out of an interview. You stand next to him, your arm behind his back, smiling at the man who now knows both of them "Were you saying?" Rin asks, returning to the interview questions

"Oh, yeah yeah... any projects in mind at the moment? On a soccer level or on a personal level?" the interviewer asks again

Rin thinks about it for a moment. The plans are actually there. He must still become the best of the best, climb to the top and lead Japan to be the strongest team in the world. It simply has yet to break some of its limitations

But there are also other projects. He has to decide when to use that ring he bought more than a few months ago. He must understand when to kneel down and definitely ask you to become Miss Itoshi, his wife. These are mainly his most important projects at the moment

"I still have a lot to do, Japan has to become the most important and strongest team in the world, and maybe I will take on the role of team captain. On a personal level though... I don't know, I just want to continue what I already doing for a while… making her happy every day” Rin says, and you can swear you feel your heart explode

Your boyfriend isn't a big talker, you knew this even before we got together. But the facts speak, and he is doing exactly what he says: every day he makes you happy, and you couldn't be more grateful. His words may seem like nothing, but they mean a lot to you. You simply love him. The interviewer smiles. You turn to Rin and he leans down slightly to kiss you on the nose, making you giggle while the cameras film you

Maybe Rin could use that ring tonight, maybe?

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller au part 8

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 9 is here!

Everything around you warped as you jumped off the cliff. You closed your eyes as you heard Baldwin scream your name in agony, the air whipped around you and you hoped that you returned to your house, hopefully with a soft landing.

You fell onto the hard ground on your arm, breaking it. You screamed before biting your lip to hold it as you realised that you had landed... in a forest.

You pulled out your time machine and read the time and place.

1530. Ottoman empire.

Oh hell no-

You tried to change the time to return to your present world, but the dial buttons were broken and you couldnt do anything but hope it'll work again and return you back to your time.

Blinking away the tears, you clutched your arm and struggled to stand up, groaning in pain. The fall had knocked the air out of you, and made your entire body ache as you staggered towards a tree for support.

This has to be- Baldwin must've cursed me for leaving him.

Fixing your gown, you removed your wedding veil to make a hijab and used the length of it to cover your body like a chaddar. Clutching your broken arm, you began walking. Where? You dont know, but you need to get out of the forest first as you didnt pay much attention to "Man V/S Wild" because the first episode you watched started off with Bear Grylls drinking his own piss and you didnt think you'd ever be in a situation where you would need that kind of skills.

"And I wont." You huffed, walking. Besides, the wild isnt the only thing you need to survive. You're a lone woman in a forest where good samaritans arent the only ones to cross it. And you dont think you have a fighting chance against strangers with a broken limb.

The sun was starting set by the time you made it out of the forest and you saw a small cottage. If it wasnt for the old woman tending to her chickens outside, you wouldnt have approached her. But alas, thirst and exhaustion overtook stranger-danger and you walked upto her.

"W... water?" You croaked in Turkish, sweat dripping down your face as you clutched your arm. Yes, you learnt the language as a child when there was no cable and the only place you and your brother could watch TV was at your Turkish neighbours house. Granted, all they ever played was soap dramas, but hey- your family was poor and you had to make do.

The old lady's eyes widened at your state and she rushed inside to get water. By the time she came out with her husband, you had passed out.

-

When you came to, you were lying in bed while the couple fretted over you. It turned out that the old man used to be a physician, so he popped your broken arm back in place and immobilised it expertly so that it allows for optimal healing of the bone. The old lady made you some food and thats when they asked what happened.

"I fell from a tree." You took a bite of the warm meal. "I was hiding there from some slave owners. I lost my parents a few days ago and when they found out that I was alone... they wanted to take me and sell me to the palace." Lying isnt that hard for you when you have so many true events to back you up.

The old couple pitied you and offered you their home. "You could stay here for as long as you'd like. We dont mind. In fact, we'd enjoy the company." You smiled gratefully. As days passed, you began helping them around the house with chores. They were lonely and they enjoyed having you around. You found out that they used to have a daughter but she was one day taken by the Janissaries (members of the elite infantry units that formed the Ottoman Sultan's household troops) to make her part of the harem and they never got to see her again.

It had been a month since you'd been living here. Your machine hadnt worked again and you didnt have the tools at hand to start working on it. You did accompany the old man to the town when he'd go get groceries, but you didnt risk finding a scholar or craftman to help you. No, the moment your eyes landed on the Topkapi palace at the other side of town, you had turned on your heel and already started making your way back to the cottage. As tempting as it was to see just how the sultans were, you were not going to try your luck by being trapped in that castle that had weird politics. Everyone was everyone's enemy- the heirs, the wives, the concubines, the eunuchs- everyone.

You and the old man had just returned from the town and you were trying to calm him down. Apparently, he got into a heated argument with the shopkeeper who was quite influential and lent people money, but he asked for high interest rates on return.

"I'll help you. Maybe I can find some work-" you offered but the old man absolutely refused. He didnt want you to leaving the cottage, especially not alone to go work with these scummy people he did not trust.

You smiled sadly. Perhaps you reminded him of his daughter.

"He's always been like this, but when Ayla was taken, he started loathing the sultan. How can you just break a family like that?" The old lady said as she stirred the pot. You hummed as you set the table, when the old man suddenly burst through the door, looking alarmed.

"Dear? Whats wrong?" The old lady walked up to him. He was looking at you.

"Janissaries- they're here." He said with dread. "The merchant- he must've sent them here! Quick, hide Y/n!" The old lady nodded in agreement as they began pushing you. The old man lifted up a wooden panel from the floor, revealing a small compartment.

"Hide in there and dont make a sound!" They said as they covered the space back with the wooden panel. You held your breath as you peeked through the slits in between the panels.

Just a few moments later, 5 men in red uniforms and swords resting on their sides, brazenly walked in.

Janissaries.

"Where's the girl?" One of them asked as the others looked around.

"What girl?" The old man asked as he pulled his wife closer to him.

"Dont pretend you dont know. We saw you walking in the market with a girl. Where's she?"

"She left. Her parents took her back. What do you want from her?" The old man replied.

The Janissaries kept looking around, going through rooms to find you.

"You havent paid your loan back. We're just here to take her while you make arrangements for your loan."

"I told you she's gone. And I told the merchant I already paid off his loan. With interest."

"Yes, but the interest increased last week. You didnt pay that."

"What does it concern you? You work for the sultan, not the merchant!"

"The merchant is friends with me, a Janissarie. If he's bothered, then I'm bothered. And if I'm bothered, then so is the sultan. Now, hurry up and tell me where she is."

"She's gone-" the old man was cut off by a punch.

You gasped, but quickly covered your mouth as the Janissarie's head snapped in your direction. He couldnt see you, but you could see him.

The old lady was crying now as she tended to her husband on the ground. The Janissaire looked back at her.

"If you dont tell me where she is right now, you will become a widow." He threatened her.

The old lady couldnt say anything as she kept on crying, but she made the mistake of looking at the wooden panel you were hiding under. That was enough of for the armed men to figure out.

They pulled the panel away and there you were, looking up at them with fear. They didnt have to communicate as they pulled you out and threw you over his shoulder, making their way out to their horses.

The old couple begged them to not take you away, but despite your best efforts to break free, you never stood a chance.

"Let me go-" You were silenced with a hard slap. The Janissarie looked at you.

"I will only say this once. I am taking you to the palace. If you make a single sound, I will slit your throat right then and there. If you run, I will behave very badly with you. Nod if you understand."

-

Some time later, you had been dragged into the Topkapi Palace. The guards talked amongst themselves about you, as if you're deaf.

"We should just sell her to the slave traders." One said.

"Or we could give her to the merchant and he can pay us more than the slave traders." Another said.

"We'll see who will pay the higher price for her. After she spends the night with me." Your eyes almost popped out of your socket.

The creep laughed as he yanked you close by the wrist. "Maybe I'll keep you permanently, tied to my bed-"

Allah, now would be a great time for the time machine to work. I dont care if I disappear before their eyes, I cant stay here-

"Well well well, what do we have here?" The Janissaries all straightened up at the new voice. "Bothering another woman of the harem? After you were almost beheaded the last time you stared at one with your pig ugly eyes?"

"Baris Agha, she is not part of the harem-"

"She became property of the sultan the moment you brought her in the palace." The man snapped at them as he stepped in front of you. Judging from his clothes and his effeminate mannerisms, you figured he was a eunuch. "Lets take a look, hm?" He gripped your chin roughly and tilted your face from side to side, a grimace appearing on his face.

"Not pretty enough to be a concubine. Tch. Maid it is."

Bitch.

"Baris Agha, you cant just take her from us-"

"Need I remind you of the woman from the sultan's war winnings you lot lost because you were drunk? I see, I should go and remind sultan of that." At that, the Janissaries scowled but kept quiet.

"Now stop standing there like buffoons. Go to your posts. And you-" Baris Agha gave you a pointed look. "You dont look from around here, but I'm going to assume that since you havent screamed or tried to run off, you understand what I'm saying, hm?" You gave a nod. Baris Agha rolled his eyes before turning on his heel, beckoning you to follow him with his index finger. "Hurry along. We have to train you for the feast tonight. A few servants died of smallpox, so we're a little short staffed."

You were lead to a hamam (a common bath area). Baris Agha was talking to the old lady standing outside. "She is the new maid. Have her prepared for tonight, hm?" He told the lady who ushered you in.

Baris Agha waited outside the hamam as he heard you shriek and yell, but he was unfazed. Everytime a new girl is brought here, she has to go through the same thing. A hot ,steaming bath, an invasive medical check up, a little degradation, nothing out of the norm. It is necessary to do this because if you are to serve the royal family, it wont bode well for you to be carrying any diseases or... any pride.

-

"You're lucky I'm short on servants or else I would've thrown you into the sea because I would never wish anyone to see the gait of a cow." He scolded you during your "maid training".

You bit your lip to stop the curses from slipping. You cant risk pissing off anyone here until you can find a way out, or your machine works. You've read details about the life in Ottoman empire, and sure majority of them were muslims, but they still had egos as large as Mount Everest.

"Baris Agha! Baris Agha!' A servant came running upto him. "A fight broke out in the harem! The concubines- ah! Its a mess!" He flailed his hands around in exasperation.

Baris's eyes widened before scowling. "I'll kill them all today! I swear! These women are more trouble than they're worth for!" He grumbled before looking at you.

"Keep moping, I'll come back. Dont do anything stupid or I will make you dig your grave!" He threatened before leaving with the servant.

As soon as he was out of sight, you considered running. But you dont know your way around this maze of a palace, and you dont wish to run into Baris Agha when you're trying to find your way out of these hallways. You need to be careful and find a way out. So, you slowly made your way towards the other end of the corridor while mopping (as an excuse when Baris returns and asks where'd you go) and peeked around the corners. When you found no one, you slowly walked down one end of the hall where you saw a door at the end while the right side of the hall overlooked the palace grounds and the other side of the hall had no doors but had these wooden windows that were shut so you couldnt see through them. You reached the door and opened it slowly, expecting another hallway, but instead you were in a room. Not exactly a bedroom, since you didnt spot a bed, but perhaps a sitting room? Or maybe a study room, judging from the desk in the corner. In the center of the room, there was a huge pile covered by a purple silk cloth. This couldnt possibly be a storage room, right? You walked upto the pile and pulled the cloth off it, revealing an amalgam of... fine things. There were fancy vases, some antiques, swords and a few paintings.

The paintings were stacked one upon the other, and you took a look at the first one- it was Arabic calligraphy. The background was beige with the calligraphy in beautiful black ink. And you recognised the words written. Its Ayat ul Kursi, from Surah Baqrah in Quran. The words were written so elegantly, however as you read the verse, you spotted an error. It was a minor one, but there was a dot missing from one of the letters and now it would be misspelled and the words wont make sense.

You could just walk away. You should walk away. Find a way out. This is not your mess. And this should not bother you.

"If you see something wrong, then you should do everything in your abilities to correct it. Don't be selfish, Y/n." Your brother's voice rung in your ears.

With a sigh, you walked towards the desk and picked up the the quill pen dipped in ink.

I'm only doing this because this painting may one day be passed onto the future generations. Cant have them making the same mistakes. You walked back to the painting. This is the word of Allah. I cant just ignore the mistake.

You placed the 3 foot canvas on the desk and carefully placed the dot to correct the mistake. You held your breath the entire time to prevent your hand from shaking. When you were done, you breathed and backed away.

"What are you doing?" You froze. This- this is not Baris Agha's voice. No, it- it held too much authority.

"I asked you- what are you doing?!" The voice boomed.

"I- I-"

"Turn around." You slowly did and you looked at the man in dark robes in front of you. He was neither a servant, nor a Janissaries. You looked at the fury in his grey eyes, and then your eyes travelled upto his head.

You dropped into a bow, head low.

"I- I apologise, sultan!" Of fucking course! Why wouldnt a sultan- THE SULTAN SULEIMAN, be the one to catch you in the act.

This is it. This is the day I die. He will have my head cut off-

"I asked you, what are you doing?" He asked again. "Who are you?"

"I- I was... I was fixing an error, your majesty." You gulped, head still down. "I am- I am a new servant, sultan. I- I did not know this was your room- I was- I got lost-"

"What mistake?" He cut you off. "Rise. And show me the mistake."

You slowly rose up, though you kept your eyes casted down. You turned back to the painting as he walked up next to you, and you raised your shaking hand to point the area where the ink was still wet.

"The... the dot was missing from this letter. It was spelling mistake. I... I couldnt just leave it... in good conscience." You explained in a small voice.

There was complete silence for the next few minutes. Is this the part where you should start begging him to spare your life? Or should you keep your mouth shut and hope he gives you a less painful punishment?

"Bring the next painting." He commanded without taking his eyes off the current one. You picked up the next canvas and it also had Arabic calligraphy. With his permission, you placed it on the desk as well.

"Well?" He looked at you and you stared back at his grey eyes in confusion. "Check for errors."

You looked back at the painting, another Quranic verse from Surah Rahman. And you spotted the error right away. Again a small mistake, but still if the diacritical marks are not present, then the pronunciation will be wrong.

"Here. And here as well." You pointed out with your finger. He nodded at you to fix it. This time it was much harder for you to stop your hand from shaking, but fortunately, you did.

"Now recite it." You looked at him in surprise. Recite it? You cant stop your hand from shaking with him looking at you and he expects you to recite it out loud in front of him?!

What kind of test is this? And if I mess up, will he have me killed? Oh God, he's going to kill me.

Closing your eyes to stop the tears from spilling, you began to recite Surah Rahman.

Just pretend he's not here, pretend your brother is in front of you and you're reciting Quran to him like you did as kids. Its normal, its just you and Qasim. You and your brother.

You opened your eyes when you were finished. Suleiman was looking at you... shocked.

"That was... my goodness. That was mesmerising." The sultan praised you once he overcame his shock. "And you recited it all from memory. Are you a hafidha?" (someone who has memorised the Quran)

You nodded. The sultan looked even more surprise. He's never heard of women memorising the Quran in his lifetime, and you? You look so young, just in your 20s. Did you really learn the Quran with such perfect recitation?

"How? Who was your teacher?"

"My brother." Which was true. Qasim, your older brother memorised the Quran when he was very young. Your parents sent him to the local mosque to learn and since he was blessed with eidetic memory, things werent hard for him.

You, on the other hand, were not blessed with photographic memory. You werent gifted like Qasim, and since he's always been the shining star, the all rounder, he was your competitor by nature. So while your parents didnt send you to the local mosque to memorise Quran because you're "too young", you made Qasim teach it to you.

He was more than happy to. Qasim, just like his name, was always the "generous one". The one who shares. He's the older brother, the provider. You're the younger sister, the competitive brat. Together, you two made a great duo. Qasim's recitation was far better than yours. His voice brought comfort to the soul.

Once you were able to memorise Quran, you and Qasim would often participate in those Islamic trivia and competitions which would often have some cash prize at the end. And since money was tight at home, you'd both participate and win many such prizes.

"And where's your brother?" "Dead. My family is dead." Well its not like he can go and confirm your story. "I was brought here by the Janisarries. They planned to sell me to slave traders. Then Baris Agha came and made me a servant, saying I belong to the sultan now. He gave me a mop and I was cleaning and then I found my way here..." You explained your situation further, hoping he'd take pity and let you go.

"What's your name?" The sultan asked very calmly.

"... Y/n."

"Y/n." He tested the name. "How would you like a job?"

"I- I'm not a good servant, ask Baris Agha. He'll testify-"

"Not as a maid. As a... teacher."

"Teacher?"

"Mhm. Quran teacher. Teach my daughter Mihirmah how to recite, if not memorise it as well as you, hm?"

"I-" you paused. You need to word this out carefully. "I'm honoured that you considered me for this position, your majesty, but surely, there might be someone else more suitable for this job."

He shook his head. "They're all men. I think if my daughter could have you as a role model, she might be inspired to learn."

"I... I have to go home-"

"Home? To who? You have no family." Of course, your lie backfires.

Seeing your hesitance, he sighs. "Look, you're not a slave here, Y/n. No Muslim in my empire is, so I wont force you to stay here but I think it would be safer for you. A young girl in her prime, living alone in this harsh world- you know just as well of the dangers. Today my Janissaries brought you here, and I will deal with them. But tomorrow, someone else might take advantage of the fact that you have no one to rely on."

You remained silent. He was... right. But-

"If you were to stay here and be Mihirmah's teacher, then I give you my word- no harm shall befall you. You will be under my protection."

Your time machine hasnt shown any signs of working yet, and you dont think you can stay hidden in this empire and avoid people for long, so-

"I accept."

Suleiman smiled. "Good. I think the ink is dry now. Place them back with the pile." You picked up the canvases and brought them back to his collection. As you were placing them down, you noticed the canvas on the bottom, the one you never picked up.

Your face paled.

-

"Sultana, please focus-" you were trying to get the young princess's attention, which you now realise was a feat in itself and exactly why Sultan Suleiman asked you to teach her.

"No." Mihirmah said. You took a deep breath. She has no interest in reading the Quran, how are you supposed to make her learn a few verses?

She was the Sultan's only daughter, so she was spoiled to the core. Just 19 years old, with high cheek bones, blemish free skin, her ash brown hair that shone, she was the epitome of beauty and the apple of her father's eye. You'd just love to yank her by the hair or smack her with a ruler to make her focus but you also would like to get out of here alive.

"You shouldn't use violence when it comes to Islam. It'll only drive the believers away." You heard Qasim's voice in the back of your head. "I never had to discipline you with hand to make you memorise. If I can teach you, then so can you." He had a warm smile on his face.

But I'm not you, Qasim. I dont have the patience of a saint.

"Alright, sultana." You closed the Quran with a sigh and clasped your hands. "What do you want to do?"

Mihirmah grinned, feeling victorious over you giving up so quickly. "I want you to tell my father that I gave my best in trying to learn this but you dont have the time or skill to teach me. Tell him that you think it might be best for me to take break from learning Quran so that I can regain my focus." She said as she crossed her arms over chest.

"No."

Her smile faltered. "No?"

"No." You confirmed, staring at her dead serious. "I do have the time and skill to teach you the Quran. Why should I lie about myself for your incompetency?"

Her eyes widened before narrowing. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" You asked, collecting your things. "I am not your slave or servant to order around. Your father, the sultan, hired me for a job. I'm the teacher, you're the student and at this moment, I have authority over you."

You stood up and looked down at her with no expression. "I was told the young princess was fearless and as strong as her brothers. I now see they were wrong. If you dont wish to learn, then have the guts to tell your father."

As you turned around to leave, you were immediately thrown against the wall, making you bang your head against it. Enough. You're done playing nice.

Sorry Qasim, but some people need violence-

You were turned around and slammed against the wall. You were about to yell at her when you felt something sharp press against your throat.

Mihirmah's eyes were full of fury. "You do not get to talk to me that way-!" "Is that an Omani khanjar?" You looked at her silver dagger.

Mihirmah's rage was replaced by surprise. "You... you know about it?"

You scoffed, insulted. "I'd be a fool not to notice it."

She titled her head at you, an amusing glint in her eyes.

-

"Oh my- you even have the pugio! How did you get it?" You were in complete awe at Mihirmah's large collection of daggers and swords.

Mihirmah beamed. "My brother got it for me on his recent conquest. He got so much stuff in the war prize for dad, but they let me pick first. Mustafa had brought dad some antiques, gems, paintings-" your heart sank at her words.

So that painting... it was from the spoils of war?

The painting that you saw earlier when you were putting back the canvases- it was a portrait. Of you. The same portrait that Baldwin had commissioned for you. The painting that survived over 400 years, except for the lower part of your face that was smudged and faded.

Suleiman looked over your shoulder as you stared at the portrait. "Mustafa found this in a church during the war. The locals claimed that the portrait belonged to some king who lost the love of his life. Hm. Seems like he missed her too much." He explained, tracing his fingers over the smudged area of the painting, and you wondered what Baldwin had done to make the area so faded.

You were glad that you had drawn your chaddar over your head and kept your face down or else you're almost certain the sultan would've recognised the resemblance between you and the portrait. After you'd left him, you immediately decided to wear a niqaab and cover your face to prevent anyone from recognising you as the muse from the painting.

"Y/n." You were snapped out of your thoughts. Mihirmah raised a brow at you. "So... how do you know about the daggers? You dont look like... well, you know."

Should you even be surprised at how condescending she is? Mihirmah may be the sultan's only daughter, but you were also the only daughter AND the youngest child of your family.

You can be just as bitchy.

"What? Just because I'm not a princess, I cant know about daggers?" You scoffed, looking back at her collection on the table.

Mihirmah's lips quirked. "Well, how do you know then?"

My cousin took me to the forensic musuem at his medical college and I was so mesmerised by all the murder weapons there, including the daggers, that I spent an embarrassing amount of time researching about each type of blade which was interesting for me because I am a historian.

"My dad was a blacksmith." He was not. Your father was a pharmacist. "I used to watch him make different types of blades and swords. Travellers would often stop by and let him sharpen their blades, and thats how I know about different kinds of blades."

She nodded, satisfied with your explanation. "You know your blades... but do you know how to fight with them?"

"No, sultana. I am just a lowly peasant who does not have to face the troubles of warding off potential suitors and princes like you." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

When she didnt reply, you looked up at her and saw the evil glint in her eyes.

"What?"

Her smile widened. "I have a proposal that would benefit the both of us."

You stared at her in confusion for a few moments before understanding what she meant.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No-"

-

You were flipped onto the carpeted ground with Mihirma pinning your arms with her knees, pressing the dagger against your neck.

"Anddddd you're dead." She smiled victoriously above you before getting off you and helping you up. You coughed to catch your breath and scowled at her. "I should tell the sultan about how you beat up your teacher."

Mihirmah chuckled. "I am not beating you up. I am teaching you how to fight, and dad would approve that I teach a young women how to defend herself." "But I dont want to learn how to fight." "And I dont want to learn Quran. But if I have to do that, then you can at least do this so that you know just how difficult it is for me to learn the verses."

You adjusted your veil and glared at her. "Cant you find someone else to be your sparring buddy?"

"No. I like you. You dont seem to be too afraid of me and you stand your ground." She admitted before looking at you fussing over your niqaab. "You know you can take that off around me? People dont burst into my room without knocking, so feel free to take that off."

You contemplate for a moment. It is a little hot in here, and you're sweating like a pig after that knock down.

You remove your veil, but keep the scarf over your head and take a seat. You felt her eyes on you, but you didnt look at her as you opened the Quran.

"What are you staring at?"

Mihirmah sat down beside you as you finally looked at the gleam in her eyes. "What?" You asked again.

"Nothing. I just thought you'd be... prettier."

You couldn't help the sound of disbelief that left from your lips.

This cun-

"Well, I'm so sorry sultana that you had to witness the ugliness of my face with your precious eyes that are only worthy of seeing pretty things. My sultana, just say the word and I'd sew pearls into my skin for your pleasure, or I could always just-" you pick up your veil to cover your face again, but Mihirmah's hand caught your wrist and she was giggling.

"You're easy to tick off." She chuckled. "I was only kidding. You look... alright."

You feigned a smile. "Well, how will I ever repay that priceless compliment?" You rolled your eyes as she laughed again.

"Now that we're done with your entertainment, lets start our lesson for today."

-

Its been a week since you arrived in Topkapi palace. You had been given a room in the harem with the concubines because- well they didnt have quarters for religion teachers, so here you were.

The room was small but adequate for you. Nothing fancy but you're grateful for that. Dont want these concubines seeing you as a threat or something.

You groaned as the servant kneaded your shoulders. You were currently getting a massage from a girl you had befriended. Your muscles were sore from the all the times Mihirmah had flipped you over or slammed you against the wall. You were sure you were gonna have numerous bruises by the time she memorised one surah.

Your deep tissue massage was interrupted by Baris Agha bursting through your door. He shot you a glare before pushing the girl away from you.

"If your majesty is done with her rub down, would you care to grace us with your mighty presence?" He mocked. You opened your eyes and sighed.

"Hello to you too, Baris Agha." You sat up. "What do you want?"

"The sultana has demanded your presence."

"I already gave the sultana her lesson today." You mumbled before going to lie back down but Baris Agha grabbed your shoulder painfully to haul you up.

"That was Mihirmah sultana. Your presence is required by her mother, Hurrem sultana!" He gritted out.

Hurrem sultana? "Why?" You asked, fixing your niqaab over your face.

"Why? Why? Who do you think you're to be asking questions? Make haste!" He yelled at you before pushing you out of the room.

You followed behind him as he told you how to courtesy in front of her and not to do this or that, but you were focused on why you'd been called by the sultana? And that too, at dinner time? Wouldnt she be busy with her family?

Finally, you reached her chambers. Baris Agha entered first and you followed closely behind him, falling into a deep courtesy right after him.

"My Sultana, this is Hatun (lady) Y/n, Mihirmah's sultana's teacher." Baris Agha introduced you.

"Rise." You heard her say and you dared to peek at her and your breath was caught.

If Mihirmah was the epitome of beauty, then Hurrem sultana was something entirely out of this world. Red hair that sat in a intricate bun atop with a crown, milky white skin that had no marks, and those radiant green eyes that shone just as bright as the iconic emerald ring on her finger.

If you didnt know the dates, you wouldnt have guessed her to be a day over 40. But she was well in her 50s, and Allah... were you envious of Turkish beauty.

Truly, this was not a place for an insecure person to be around. You probably did stick out like a sore thumb among the bewitching beauties.

Baris Agha elbowed you to make you avert your gaze, and thats when you spotted Mihirmah sitting beside her looking sheepish.

"So, you've been the one who Mihirmah has been spending so much time with?" She looked at you pointedly.

So much time?

You looked at Mihirmah who was avoiding your gaze. You looked back at the sultana. "Well? Tell me how much my daughter has learned?"

How much? She hasnt been able to memorise a single surah.

You cleared your throat and spoke carefully. "Sultana, its a gradual process-"

"Surely, she must've memorised something? After all, thats why she's been refusing to spend time embroidering or looking at her proposals."

"Mom-" Mihirmah tried but was silenced by a look from her mother.

Hurrem looked back at you. "So, Hatun Y/n, do you have something to say? Or has my daughter been lying to me about spending time with you?"

You looked at Mihirmah who was looking at you with pleading eyes and you connected the dots. Mihirmah has lied to her mother about spending her time with you, and now wants you to lie for her as well.

If you do, Mihirmah might be safe but you risk getting caught. If you dont lie, Mihirmah gets in trouble, but so will you. And not just at Mihirmah's hands, because she will hurt you for snitching, but you suspect that she will twist more lies and lead you into more trouble with both her mother and father.

What to do?

"Mihirmah sultana is... a good student. The best one I've had so far." Well, you werent lying. She was your first student so technically she had no competition. "Everyone has a different pace of learning, my sultana. But its not about how fast you learn, its how much you learn. I'd prefer to take years to learn the surahs over not understanding the meaning behind them, the lessons hidden in them."

Yes, this is a safe answer. "Mihirmah sultana has shown great interest in reading the Quran. She listens very attentively to the translations." After bribing her with duels.

"I have no doubt that she will one day be a good Quran student. As long as she never stops reading it, maintains her connection with the Holy Book and Allah. The process of learning never ends."

Hurrem's calculated eyes read you. She gave a single nod. "Very well, Hatun Y/n. If you say so." Ah finally. Disaster avoided, and now Mihirmah owes me for lying-

"Mihirmah, you will recite the surah Hatun Y/n taught you tomorrow at dinner. Your father and I will be very pleased with your progress." Hurrem stated, making both your and Mihirmah's eyes widen because her mother knows her daughter well. She knows Mihirmah is not prepared and challenged her like this so that she can get rid of you as well, allowing the queen to focus on finding a suitable proposal for her daughter.

"Mother-"

"Mihirmah, go and sleep now. I dont think you need to prepare anymore for tomorrow, as you have told me just how great of teacher Hatun Y/n is." Hurrem smiled cunningly. Of course, she'd lay traps for her own daughter if it meant she could prove a point.

You and Mihirmah left the sultana's chambers together before walking to the princess's chambers.

"Thank you, Y/n for saving me!" Mihirmah said as soon as you two entered her room. She turned around to look at you, only to find you out on her balcony.

"Y/n? What are you doing there?" She walked up behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. "Hm? Oh, I'm just thinking if I should jump to my death from here or ask Baris Agha to get me poison. What do you suggest?"

"Y/n!" She pulled you away from the balcony. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? Whats wrong with you?!" You yanked your arm out of her grip. "Why did you lie to Hurrem sultana that you've been spending day and night studying with me when you damn well know that you have the attention span of a fish?!"

Mihirmah pouted. "Well, I had to come up with an excuse as to why I didnt want to do needle work or look at suitors... how was I supposed to know she'd bring you in for questioning?"

Narrowing your eyes at her, you gritted out. "You should've just told her that you'd rather spend the time beating up servants and throwing knives at pillows for target practise!"

She crossed her arms and huffed. "What, are you mad at me?"

You chuckled humourlessly. "Oh no. No no- how dare I? Why would I be mad at you for being the reason your parents will send me to the gallows? Or would they rather chop off my head?"

She shook her head. "No, I wont.... I wont let them do that." Mihirmah sighed. "I'll tell them the truth tomorrow, come clean."

"Oh great. So then you'll be safe from trouble but I'll still be dead because I LIED to the sultana! Thanks a lot!" You exclaimed.

"Well, then what do you suggest we do?!" Mihirmah was getting short tempered now.

You dragged your hands over your cheeks before heaving a sigh. "The only thing we can do. Make you memorise a surah." You held up a hand before Mihirmah could speak. "I'm not kidding. And... I have a plan. Just... you'll need to stay awake the entire night."

-

"Mihirmah- Mihirmah, wake up." You nudge the sleeping princess, awake. Its been 7 hours into your all nighter and Mihirmah's been asleep for 2 of them. You heard her groan from her position, head resting on the table.

"Mihirmah!" You called her harshly, shaking her shoulder. She smacked your hand away and continued to rest.

Thats it, I'm going to yank your hair-

The door opened making you turn. A young man was standing there, his eyes landing on Mihirmah and then at you.

"Mihirmah?" He called her name gently, but the girl who you'd been expecting to be dead asleep suddenly jumped up at his voice.

"Mehmed?!" Her eyes sparkled before getting up and jumping into his arms, just as you turned your head away and picked up your veil to wear.

Sehzade (prince) Mehmed, second son of Sultan Suleiman, first son of Hurrem. The 24 year old prince hugged his sister and spun her around, the two siblings laughing. Though you already know of his fate- the prince will die young. He will not inherit the throne.

"When did you come back from Manisa?!" Mihirmah asked him.

He pecked her forehead. "Just now. I made my way straight here and I was expecting you to be asleep, but.... what exactly is it that you're doing?" Mehmed asked, and Mihirmah followed his gaze to you.

"Ah. This is Y/n, she's my Quran teacher. I have to memorise a surah and recite it at dinner." She explained.

He raised a brow. "Since when did you have such an interest? Let me guess- father?" She scrunched her nose and nodded. "Forget about that, tell me about your adventures! Come on-" You cleared your throat loudly, making both siblings look at you.

"What?" Mihirmah asked.

"Sultana, we still have to prepare for tonight." You said as gently as you could without popping a vessel in your head.

Mihirmah waved you off. "No need! I've already memorised the surah! I'm all prepared-"

"Sultana." You cut her off. "Memorising is one thing... reciting it properly is another. Your parents will be expecting perfection which-with all due respect, you are nowhere near it."

There was deafening silence in the room as you and Mihirmah stared each other down, neither woman backing away.

"Y/n, I said I'm done for tonight. That means, I. Am. Done." Mihirmah emphasised.

"I'm the teacher and I took responsibility over this matter in front of the Sultan and Sultana. I decide when you. Are. Done." You replied back in the same tone, hands folded in front of you.

I am not letting a spoiled brat ruin my life.

Mehmed looked at the two of you, confusion clouding his mind. Mihirmah doesnt let anyone talk to her this way and get away with it. Usually by now, you wouldve been thrown into the dungeons for torture. He knows his sister and her crazy tendencies, so he doesnt understand why she's putting up with this.

There is something deeper going on here.

"Both of you, stand down." You both broke off the intense stare off and looked at Mehmed. Clasping Mihirmah's hand, he pulled her to the ottomans and sat down beside her, gesturing you to sit down on the floor pillow.

"Now, tell me what is going on?"

After explaining the mess Mihirmah had dragged you two in, Mehmed hummed.

"Mihirmah." He looked at his sister. "It doesnt matter if Y/n told the truth or the lie to mom, she'd be in trouble either way. But there is only one way you wont be in trouble, and that is to pass this test. Prove mom wrong. You can do it- hey, look at me." He cupped Mihirmah's cheeks. "I know you can do it. And to show you my support, I will stay by your side the entire time. Now, lets practice, hm?"

-

You and Mehmed left Mihirmah's room at 8 in the morning, letting her to catch some shut eye.

You mutely yawned under your niqaab, though your back wasnt as silent when you cracked it. You heard Mehmed chuckle behind you, and you quickly composed yourself.

"My sister wore you out, huh?" He had a tired smile on his lips, eyes drooping but still a glint of amusement.

"Of course not, sehzade." You noticed the small cut on the outer end of his left brow. He had ash brown hair, similar to Mihirmah's. If you didnt know better, you'd think the two were twins with how much they resembled. Thick lips, strong nose, high cheek bones.

"You shouldn't lie to a prince, you know?" He rubbed his eyes. "Mihirmah... she is a little-" Annoying? Bitchy? Selfish? "-headstrong, but she's always been this way. Dont take it to heart. She is a good person, you just need to be patient with her."

You stayed quiet as he spoke. What could you really say? Ah no, your sister is actually just a spoiled brat and needs a kicking down?

"Mihirmah likes you, Y/n. It is a lot to ask but... I would appreciate it if you would continue to have her back."

"As you wish, sehzade."

Mehmet gave you one last smile before leaving. "Get some sleep, Y/n."

You turned around and started making your way back towards the harem to your chambers, your mind occupied by the thoughts of the painting Baldwin had made.

I need to destroy it. You decided. If it has survived 400 years, it might survive another 400, and I dont want to take the risk of it appearing in a museum one day.

You're walking down the hall, trying to remember which room it was you had found the paintings in when suddenly you're yanked to a corner.

"hey-!"You're silenced by a hand covering your mouth. A woman was holding you.

"Shh. Its fine. I just want to talk." She pulled her hand away, making you take a huge gulp of air. "What? You cant say hello like a normal person?" You spat at her. She narrowed her eyes at you. "Watch your tone. I'm Gul, the sultana's lady-in-waiting." Or just personal servant. You thought. Wait, sultana?

"Hurrem sultana-" "No, Mahidevran sultana, the first wife of Sultan Suleiman and the one you should always obey and respect. Now come along, she wishes to talk to you." She began pulling you down the corridor.

"Talk to me about what?" She didnt answer you.

Mahidevran sultana, the first wife of the sultan who eventually fells out of his favour when Hurrem arrives. She was able to give birth to one son- sehzade Mustafa, the eldest heir of the sultan, who will also not inherit the throne and will be executed on the orders of his father.

You can only guess how protective Mahidevran would be of both her son and the throne, seeing as she only has one child compared to Hurrem sultana's five, four of which are male heirs. And she has every reason to be threatened too because Hurrem has done what has never been done before.

Hurrem sultana was a non muslim woman captured from Crimea, sold as a slave in Constantinople, became a concubine in the harem and slowly rose to the ranks to be Suleiman's favourite, and later, become his legal wife. She bore majority of his sons, and broke the traditional rule of. "one imperial concubine - one son", was beaten up by Mahidevran which angered Suleiman, earned the title of Haseki Sultana (which means "favourite") and it shocked everyone because never before was a slave elevated to the level of becoming the legal wife of the sultan.

Hurrem sultana was force to be reckoned with. And as history shows, Hurrem would be the victorious one.

Finally reaching the sultana's chambers, you were pushed in by Gul. You immeadiately fell into a courtesy, not wanting to anger the sultana.

"So... who exactly are you?" You looked up, brows knitting in confusion at her question. Mahidevran was sitting on her ottoman, her face expressionless as she stared you down. She was beautiful, her features sharp and slim, collar bones prominent along with her long neck, she looked like a supermodel. But... Hurrem was prettier.

"I- I'm Y/n." You answered her, but she didnt look satisfied. "What is your relation with Hurrem? Are you sleeping with her son, Mehmed?"

"I- I beg your pardon?" You stammered. She stood up and strode to you, making you back up.

"Do not lie to me, girl. My servants saw you entering Hurrem's chambers yesterday, and leaving with Mehmed today."

"Its not what it looks like, sultana." You shook your head. "I am not a concubine and I am not sleeping with anyone! Sultan Suleiman hired me to teach Mihirmah sultana Quran."

"That doesnt explain why you were with Hurrem or Mehmed."

"Hurrem sultana wanted to know how far her daughter has progressed in her lessons and asked Mihirmah to recite a surah at dinner to prove that she's been studying. Sehzade Mehmed and I were with Mihirmah sultana all night helping her prepare for tonight." You explained the situation and Mahidevran stared at you with no expression. For a moment, you thought she didnt believe you but then her lips quirked up.

"Dinner, you say?" You gave a hesitant nod. "Very well, off you go."

As soon as you were out of the room, you leaned against the wall and placed a hand over your chest, feeling your rapidly beating heart. Mahidevran may not be as pretty as Hurrem, but she was definitely scarier. You really did think she was going to torture you.

Weakly, you began walking again. You want to go back to your room and sleep off the headache that was forming, but you still have the stupid portrait to destroy.

Where the hell was that stupid room?

After an hour or so of roaming around and avoiding Baris Agha because you dont have it in you to put up with insults, you finally found the room. You softly knocked on the door first, checking if the sultan or someone else was in the room. When no one answered, you slowly opened the door and looked around. No one was there.

You walked inside and spotted the pile still there, and when you removed the silk off it, everything was still there- untouched, including your portrait.

"What are you doing?"

Second time. You've been caught in here for the second time.

Baldwin has to have cast a curse on you. There is no other explanation for such badluck.

You turned around, praying it was Baris Agha or anyone else, just not the sultan.

As soon as you spotted the royal turban, you could hear Baldwin laughing in the back of your head.

You bowed. "Sehazade- I-"

He looked older than Mehmed, so your best guess was that this was Mustafa.

"I asked, what you were doing with my war loot?" So, it is Mustafa. Mihirmah did say he went on a conquest recently.

"I was-" you cleared your throat. "I was merely admiring the calligraphy."

He tilted his head to look behind you. "There's no calligraphy on the portrait."

"I was admiring... the portrait."

"Were you planning on stealing it?"

"What? No." You peered at him through your niqaab. "It would not be the brightest idea to steal a large canvas and walk through the palace that is littered with guards."

He hummed. "You could go out the window."

"And ruin the painting or risk breaking my legs?"

"Huh. So what do you think would be the best way to steal this painting?" What kind of trick question is this?

"Not that I am stealing it, but if I were to- I'd most likely remove it from the canvas and roll it up, tuck it under my dress or hide it somewhere else and then leave with it. Or maybe pass it to another person, to make myself less suspicious."

"For someone who claims they're not stealing it, that does sound like you put a lot of thought in it." Mustafa admitted.

You frowned. "I was just pointing out the obvious. As I said, I am not a thief!"

"Then who are you?"

"I'm Y/n, Mihirmah sultana's Quran teacher-" He chuckled. "Sure, that's believable."

"Its true."

"You expect me to believe Mihirmah, my little sister who would much rather spend her days skinning someone, is learning Quran?" He smiled, making dimples appear on his cheeks.

"Its not by choice. Sultan Suleiman hired me." He stopped smiling.

"The Sultan... hired you?" Mustafa asked. What- why would his father hire you? You're just a young girl, almost the same age as Mihirmah.

"You can ask him if you dont believe me." You were tired of being insulted. What, does he think you're not smart enough to teach someone? Or just plain ole ugly?

"I-"

"Y/n! Ugh! There you are!" Baris Agha voice cut through, and as soon as he spotted Mustafa, he bowed, but you saw the momentary glance of confusion of why you were with him.

"Sehzade." Baris greeted him. Mustafa acknowledged him with a single nod. "Please excuse me, but I must take Hatun Y/n. Mihirmah sultana has demanded her presence."

Mustafa nodded again, letting Baris Agha drag you out by the arm. He looked at you trying to free your arm from his painful grip while Baris chewed your ear out. Mustafa shook his head before turning around to look at the portrait you were "admiring".

It is... something.

-

By dinner time, your head was pounding to the point you thought someone was hammering a nail in your head. Instead of spending the rest of the day catching some sleep, Mihirmah had demanded you help her dress "modestly" for her Quran recitation tonight. She wanted a look that really captured her "angelic and spirutal" personality.

You were sure your eyes were blood shot, from the lack of sleep. You didnt eat anything since yesterday, because you were almost constantly with royalty and God forbid you ate with them. No, they're "superior" and you dont deserve to eat or take care of yourself unless they allow you to.

"How do I look?" Mihirmah asked you. You were standing outside the royal dining room, where she would first go and have dinner with her family before showing what she's learnt so far.

"Like you just returned from Hajj pilgrimage." You rolled your eyes. She shot you a glare. "You look fine, Mihirmah. Just... stay calm and remember what I've taught you. You got this." She nodded before entering the room where her family awaited her.

You leaned against the wall and sighed, about to close your eyes to take a power nap when Baris Agha nudged you.

"Wake up! Sultana and sehzade are here." He whispered harshly, just as you spotted Mahidevran and Mustafa walking down the hall. You and Baris bowed with the guards.

"Sultana. Sehzade." Baris greeted them sweetly. "The dining hall is currently occupied. Sultan Suleiman is having dinner with his family."

"And what are we, Baris?" Mahidevran snapped, making Baris's courteous smile falter. "I am his first wife, Mustafa- his first son. We have more right to be here than Hurrem and her kids."

"Sultana-" Baris tried to persuade her but she beat him to it by walking past and knocking on the door.

"Enter!" Suleiman called from inside. The servants opened the door, allowing Mahidevran and Mustafa inside.

They bowed to Suleiman. "I hope we're not interrupting, sultan. We just heard that our dear Mihirmah would be reading Quran today and I just couldnt stop myself from coming. I just want to witness our little Mihirmah becoming so connected with her religion, perhaps even inspire me." She smiled widely, placing a hand on Mustafa's back. "I brought her elder brother to show our support. May we join you, sultan?"

Suleiman stared at them before nodding. "Of course, Mahidevran. We're all family here."

Mahidevran couldnt help the smirk that formed on her lips as she saw the pissed off look on Hurrem's face and the alarmed one Mihirmah's. While Hurrem did hope to teach a lesson to her daughter to not lie to her, she wouldnt want to do it by embarrassing her in front of Mahidevran.

The doors closed and their dinner began. You leaned against the wall again to rest your eyes but of course, Baris Agha had to mutter incoherently about the whole situation.

"Allah! Allah! What are we going to do? This might as well be the start of another war inside! Hurrem sultana and Mahidevran sultana head-to-head again-" He elbowed you hard, making you yelp. "Did you tell Mahidevran to come here?! I swear, I will yank your tongue out and strangle you with it."

"Baris Agha, at this rate, I'll be the one to strangle you if you touch me one more time." You threatened, shoving him away roughly.

"You little-" The doors opened again, a servant walked out.

"Hatun Y/n. Sultan has summoned you."

You walked inside, courtesying to the royal family.

Suleiman had this gentle look in his eyes. "Ah. This is Y/n, the teacher I hired for Mihirmah." He introduced you to his family, unbeknownst to him they'd already met you. He looked at you. "I wanted you to be here as Mihirmah recited for us."

"I'm honoured, sultan." You said softly, eyes to the ground as Mihirmah stood up and walked to the center of the room.

Suleiman gave her a nod to start.

Mihirmah took a deep breath in, closed her eyes and started reciting.

إِنَّآ أَعْطَيْنَـٰكَ ٱلْكَوْثَرَ "

فَصَلِّ لِرَبِّكَ وَٱنْحَرْ

"إِنَّ شَانِئَكَ هُوَ ٱلْأَبْتَرُ

15 seconds. Thats all it took for Mihirmah to recite the shortest surah in the Quran, with almost perfect qirat. The surah that usually took 10 minutes for children to learn, took Mihirmah all night to memorise with near-perfect pronunciation. Sure, this was not what anyone was expecting, especially not Hurrem when she challenged you and Mihirmah, but the deal was to recite a surah from Quran, by memory. It just so happened to be the shortest one, the easiest one. You won fair and square.

"MashAllah, Mihirmah. That was beautiful. I am so proud of you." Suleiman beamed, his eyes shining with pride. Mihirmah grinned, running to kiss her father's cheeks.

"Yes, Mihirmah. That was... nice." Hurrem feigned a smile, just happy that she wasnt embarrassed in front of Mahidevran.

"Thank you, mom. I guess I just had a really good teacher." Mihirmah shot you a grateful look, making everyone in the room look at you. Your face flushed, and you were grateful for the niqaab to hide your face.

"Oh- um, you're just a keen learner, sultana." You said softly.

Mahidevran lips quirked up, and Hurrem saw the evil glint in her eyes. "Oh Mihirmah, you read so wonderfully. Your voice- ah! It just moved me. Please, Mihirmah- would you be kind enough to recite for me again? I'm sure your father would love to hear you as well."

Mihirmah's brows furrowed slightly. "I- of course, sultana." She closed her eyes and was about to recite the same surah again when Mahidevran's voice stopped her.

"Oh no, Mihirmah. I was hoping to hear something else."

Mihirmah's face fell. "But this is what I've memorised-"

"That's quiet alright, sweetie. You can always read it from the Quran. This isnt a test!" She chuckled. "I'm sure your teacher has taught you the basics! Here, I even brought the Quran with me." She handed Mihirmah the Holy book.

So this is how she planned to embarrass Mihirmah. She knew the young girl was neither interested nor good at learning Quran, so now when Mihirmah would stammer upon her words, then Suleiman and Hurrem will be ashamed that their Muslim daughter, at the age of 19, cannot even recite properly. Hopefully, this might even cause the couple to fight and Mihirmah to fall from the graces of her father's eyes.

Nervously, Mihirmah slowly opened the book, turning to the first page. She cleared her throat, as it'd help.

It didnt.

Mihirmah stammered and stumbled over her words many times, to the point that the first surah that should've taken less than a minute to recite, ended up taking way longer than anyone would like to admit.

As Mihirmah finished reading, you could see the tears welling up in her eyes and redness in her cheeks. She was utterly embarrassed, she felt she had let her parents down.

"Oh Mihirmah~" Mahidevran cooed. "That was.... not good at all, darling."

"I-" Mihirmah tried to muster up an excuse but the sultana did not care.

"I mean- you were just a disaster! Stuttering and making so many mistakes, and that too with the book open!"

"Mahidevran, enough." Hurrem warned.

Mahidevran narrowed her eyes at her. "What? Oh Hurrem, I am not trying to embarrass Mihirmah! In fact, I think she's not at fault. Well, not completely. I suppose she just doesnt have a good teacher."

Everyone was now looking at you.

Is this how everything ends up becoming your fault and you're the one who gets punished?

Fuck. This.

"Excuse me?" You couldnt help the irritation seep in your voice.

Mahidevran raised a brow at you. "Am I wrong? You were supposed to be the one responsible for teaching our princess Quran. And yet, she just made a fool out of herself. You tried to fool us by making Mihirmah learn the shortest surah, but look at her now- barely able to read from the book!"

Your eyes widened. Is she for real?

"I think you're wrong, sultana." Everyone looked at you as you stated boldly. "Yes, Mihirmah sultana did stammer and made mistakes as she read but I think thats much more valuable." You sighed. "Mihirmah sultana had to make twice the effort to read the Quran than one usually would, but she will also get twice the reward from Allah for her efforts. She knew she wont read well, she knows she's just a beginner at this stage, but she didnt let it stop her. And Allah will reward her for that, He knows what was in her heart, her intentions, despite what anyone has to say about her skills."

"And as for "trying to fool" anyone here- "You looked her dead in the eye. "I find that accusation insulting to the very core. You say that I made Mihirmah sultana memorise the shortest surah in the Quran. I did. Surah Kawthar is indeed the shortest surah, but does that mean it is less important? Not worthy to be read, or be in the Holy Book altogether?"

Mahidevran was frowning as you looked at her. "Do you claim to know better than Allah as to what should or shouldn't be in His divine book? Surah Kawthar may be the shortest surah in the Quran but it is one that I find deep comfort in. As the surah translates-

Indeed, We have granted you ˹O Prophet˺ abundant goodness.

So pray and sacrifice to your Lord ˹alone˺

Only the one who hates you is truly cut off ˹from any goodness˺.

And what does this tell us? The background of these verses is that when our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) lost his son, his enemies, the non believers would make fun of him that "Islam will end now because Muhammad had no male heir to continue to grow the religion, to spread the word of Allah." But Allah wouldn't abandon his beloved prophet, even when he was depressed.

This Surah was sent down when the nonbelievers of Makkah taunted the Holy Prophet (PBUH) because he had lost all his male issues, and called him 'abtar' or insulted him for some other reason. The present Surah gives an answer to the taunts of the nonbelievers, and maintains that there is no justification for calling the Holy Prophet (PBUH) an 'abtar' only because he had no male child alive, not only because his lineal offspring will remain till the Day of Judgment, though from his daughters, but he was destined to be the spiritual father of a multitude of sons in all ages to the end of time, sons who were to be far more faithful, obedient and loving than the sons of any father, and they will outnumber the followers of all the Prophets that came before him. The Surah has also highlights the great honor and respect given to him by Allah.

I also like to think that the reason why this Surah was included in the Quran was so that Muslims in general would also be comforted by the word of Allah. That all the Muslims, even if they were not from Prophet Muhammad's direct lineage, we are his ummah and so we will also enjoy the river Kawthar.

Kawthar refers to a river in paradise, which translates "a river that contains abundant goodness" and we will enjoy the greatest honour and respect, as our Prophet Muhammad's ummah."

You took a deep breath. "So, Mahidevran sultana... do you still accuse me of fooling anyone?"

The room was dead silent. You may have indirectly insulted Mahidevran and broken so many rules, but everything you said was true. It was clear. You were smart and educated, Suleiman had no doubt about it when he first met you. And now, he was only more reassured of his decision to make you Mihirmah's teacher.

"Very well said, Y/n." Suleiman broke the silence. Standing up, he walked over to Mihirmah, holding her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her forehead, comforting his daughter.

"I am very proud of you, Mihirmah. I can see the hardwork you did." He hugged her again, pressing another kiss to her forehead as she sniffled softly. "I knew you'd do well, so I brought a gift for you."

Mihirmah watched as a servant brought a wooden box lined with velvet and gems. Opening it, she gasped softly.

It was a gold bracelet with rubies and emeralds, lined in an intricate pattern.

Hurrem smiled as Suleiman put the bracelet around his daughter's wrist, before bringing her hand to his lips and pecking it.

He was a proud father.

"And Y/n-" You stiffened. Suleiman turned towards you, his body towering over you. "You did a fine job at not only teaching Mihirmah, but also helping us understand the significance of Surah Kawther."

A servant brought box, similar to Mihirmah's. Opening it, you saw a bracelet, identical to Mihirmah's.

"This is for you." Suleiman smiled as he placed the bracelet around your trembling hand.

"I- sultan-" you tried to return it but Suleiman silenced you.

"I crafted this with my own hands. It'll be rude of you to refuse." Your eyes widened at his serious tone and you immediately bowed your head.

"T-thank you, sultan." He hummed, returning to his seat while Mihirmah hugged you, giggling.

Dinner continued on as Mihirmah and her siblings began chattering once you left, but something had disturbed both Hurrem and Mahidevran.

-

"What happened inside? Catfight?" Baris Agha, the gossiper asked as you stumbled out of the room. His eyes fell on the bracelet and he snatched your hand. "Allah! Allah! Did you steal this?! I will have you-"

"Sultan Suleiman gifted it to me." Baris dropped your hand.

"S-sultan? Sultan's gift?" He whispered to himself in disbelief, but you were already walking away. You were tired, your headache had now turned into a migraine and your energy levels had dropped. All you wanted was to curl up in bed and at this point, you dont care if you wake up or not.

But sleep is for the fortunate ones. For you, Baris Agha was written.

"Y/n! You- stop! Listen!" He ran up behind you, pulling your shoulder to make you stop. "You- Sultan Suleiman gifted you the bracelet?! Do you know what this means?"

You heaved a sigh, your vision getting blurry. "Baris, just- just shut up. I need to... sleep." You turned around and started walking, not realising just how blurry your vision was, or how you were leaning against the wall for support.

All you saw was blurry figure standing in front of you, before you lost your footing. The figure caught you, and you heard Baris yell your name before losing consciousness.

-

Hurrem was in Suleiman's chambers. She was going to spend the night here, it seemed. Suleiman had summoned her himself tonight.

Suleiman walked inside, and when he spotted his wife, he smiled. Hurrem returned the smile, walking upto him and kissing him.

"Suleiman..." She whispered against his lips. "You summoned me?"

"I did." He lead her to the bed, sitting down. "What do you think of Y/n?"

She tilted her head. Y/n? "I suppose she is a good teacher. Smart. Well educated, at least religion wise."

He let out a hum. "What else?"

"What else, Suleiman? I dont know her." Suleiman chuckled, making her even more confused. Why are you being brought up right now?

"Well, try getting to know her better." "Why?"

Suleiman shrugged. "You'll know in due time."

Hurrem couldnt put her mind at peace the rest of the night. Why was Suleiman curious about you? He couldnt possibly want you- no. No. She saw him with you. He practically looked at you the same way he looked at Mihirmah. Thats why he gave you both the same bracelets-

Oh no.

-

You woke up when you felt something cool on your forehead. Opening your eyes, a wet rag blocked your vision. You pushed the rag away, accidentally touching the hand that was holding the rag there.

A man was sitting on your bedside. He had honey-coloured eyes, short, well kept dark brown hair and tanned skin.

"You can let go of my hand, Hatun Y/n." He grinned.

Your face turned red as you dropped his hand. "I- sorry."

"No worries. You're just disoriented from earlier. Exhaustion, the physicians say." He chuckled, standing up and you noticed Baris standing in the corner now. "You will need to get used to working long hours, especially now." Baris raised his brows at you as he said that, making the man laugh again.

"I will take my leave now. Take care, Hatun Y/n. And let me know if she needs anything, Baris."

"Of course, Ibrahim pasha." He bid farewell to the vizir.

The man said before leaving. Baris immediately rushed to you, grinning from ear to ear.

"What?"

"Who would've guessed- the preacher to be the tempteress?"

"Excuse me?" You glared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Baris waved you off. "Well, be flattered! I mean- you're going to be married to a sehzade soon-"

"Woah woah! What are you talking about?"

Baris stared at you. "Oh, you really dont know, do you?" You looked even more puzzled. Baris grabbed your wrist, showing you the bracelet. "This is made by sultan Suleiman. The sultan only gives handmade gifts to family and close relatives. And since I've been here since the sultan married the first sultana, I know you're not his secret love child, which means..." he waited for you to catch on, but giving up when you took too long.

"Y/n, if you're not related to him blood, then you will become related to him by becoming a part of his family. Which will be by you becoming his daughter-in-law!" He exclaimed.

Your face paled. No, no!

"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies, darling." Baris tapped your chin. "And I suggest you hide your bracelet for a while. Dont want the concubines to get jealous, hm?"

So?? Thoughts??? Who do you think will be the yanderes? What do you think will happen next???

PART 9 is here!

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part IV)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Angst begins, still lots of fluff, smut (of course), Aegon still being an ass

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

~~

The court was in a frenzy.

The news of their betrothal spread through King’s Landing like wildfire. It was all anyone could talk about for days on end. Some felt vindicated, that the rumors they had been spreading for months had finally come to fruition, while others were skeptical, unsure of what such a sweet young girl saw in the surly one-eyed Prince. 

The gossip was never ending, with many speculating the couple had been consorting inappropriately in private. While many knew of Ixtal’s customs, that they weren’t as strict about their Ladies maidenhood as they were in the rest of Westeros, it didn’t stop the looks of indignation she received from certain members of the court who turned their noses up at the mere possibility she had sullied herself before her marriage.

While Aemond hated the speculation and had to be held back more than once from storming over to a group of tittering Ladies and threatening to take their tongues for daring to speak ill of his betrothed, she found it laughable. She had to remind her betrothed they weren’t exactly wrong. 

Their nights of pleasure together were only all the more exciting and mind blowing knowing they would have each other forever, that they no longer needed to fear what the future held. 

They could finally relax, they would soon be each other’s in the eyes of the Gods and no one could take that away from them. 

Their wedding was spared no expense. Lords and Ladies of great houses from across the realm traveled to the Capitol to witness the union of a Targaryen Prince and the daughter of the most prosperous house in the realm. 

Aemond paid no mind to the fanfare. All he cared about was her. 

He barely got to see her in the weeks leading up to their wedding, with her swept up with the Ladies of the court in dress fittings and as her family arrived at King’s Landing, she was rarely seen without her dear younger sister or mother at her side. 

The King demanded a three day tourney be held to celebrate, with lavish hunts and feasts raving practically each night. Aemond had never seen his father so excited and he knew it had little to do with him and all to do with his dear friend, the Lord of Ixtal, that their families would officially be uniting. 

He rolled his eyes at the whole affair. He just wanted to marry his love. He didn’t want all this attention and unnecessary flourish. 

She would laugh softly everytime he slunk into her chambers at night, her bright eyes alight with mischief, a delighted smile on her face at the annoyance on his.

“Couldn’t stay away?”

“You know I couldn’t.” He crooned, inhaling her scent as he hugged her tightly from behind. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“I am.” She answered with a blissful smile. “Are you?”

“I was ready to marry you years ago.” 

She practically swooned, leaning her head back onto his shoulder, her gaze filled with nothing but devotion. She never would have pictured this for herself. She never could have imagined she would be able to marry her best friend, that she would find a love so pure and so beautiful for herself. She didn’t think that kind of love even existed. 

“Everything seems so perfect.” She spoke softly, reveling in his embrace. 

He hummed in agreement, wishing they could go find a Maester now to perform a ceremony and bind themselves together. He didn’t want to wait another minute. He just wanted to be her husband. 

The next morning, the entire Keep was a flurry of activity. Maids scurried in and out of her chambers to prepare her, most desperate to catch a glimpse of the Island girl that would soon become a Targaryen princess. 

She sat nervously at her vanity, her hands fidgeting in her lap. 

Today was the day she would finally marry her best friend. It all seemed too good to be true, as though they had gotten away with some elaborate plan. 

“You look beautiful, my love.” Her mother spoke, her eyes already brimming my tears.

“I’m not even in my dress yet.” She laughed as her mother waved her off, wiping under her eyes as she had been doing all morning. 

To her left, Alicent stood, her demeanor much more reserved than that of her own mother and sister, who could barely contain their excitement. The Queen had yet to crack a smile since she had entered her chambers and had been silently picking out jewelry for her to wear, barely sparing a glance to her soon to be good daughter. 

A nervous lump grew in her throat. She didn’t have the best relationship with Aemond’s mother, even as children, the woman seemed disinterested in speaking more than a few words to her. She at least thought the day she wedded her son she’d try to bridge the gap between them, but it seemed she still had little interest. 

She didn’t seem all that thrilled her son was even getting married. 

The maids around her all gestured for her to stand and move towards the floor length mirror, their excited giggles growing in volume as her dress was brought forward. 

Her breath hitched. It was real. This was happening. 

Her heart was racing as the maids helped her dress, her eyes beginning to sting with the pressure to cry the happiest of tears. 

“I assume you know what is expected of you tonight.” Alicent’s voice broke through the throng of excited chattering, abruptly shattering the positive energy in the room. 

The way Alicent looked at her, so intently, almost judgmentally, made her want to shrink. She swallowed and nodded. 

She felt a hand at her shoulder, her mother’s presence steadily at her side.

“We have already discussed what her duty is tonight.” Her mother answered for her, her voice sounder stiffer than before. 

Her mother had been in King’s Landing barely a day before she figured out what her daughter and her betrothed had been up to for months. Aemond had been horrified when his future good mother blurted out their long held secret. 

She was sure he would be blushing for the rest of his life. Even after her mother laughed heartily and assured them she would never tell a soul, that she held no judgment for them, he still had trouble meeting her eye out of sheer embarrassment. 

With one look at Alicent, the Lady of Ixtal knew she would do whatever she needed to do, say whatever she needed to say, to not let the frigid woman before her try to sink her claws into her daughter. 

She would not ruin her daughter’s big day. 

 Alicent hummed, the sound neither that of satisfaction or disdain, and she remained quiet, though her critical eye never lessened. She had no compliments for the young girl who donned her beautiful, extravagant dress, she had no well wishes for the girl as her eyes brimmed with happy tears.

All Alicent could fixate on was how angry her father was at the turn of events. They had lost a monumental opportunity to gain allies due to the girl in front of her. She had bewitched her son, her uncivilized ways weakening Aemond’s sense of duty and proprietary. She never forgot how her son had stormed into her room, practically demanding a betrothal. It was so unlike him, not at all how he had been raised to act and she knew the Ixtal girl was to blame. 

All she could do was plaster on a fake smile and hope everything her father had worked on for years wasn’t all for naught. 

~~

She was a vision as she stepped out of the carriage, her pulse thrumming in her ears, her hands trembling in anticipation. 

In a matter of minutes, she was going to be married to the love of her life.

“Are you ready?” Her father asked, a soft smile on his face as he stared at his first daughter with barely contained emotion. She nodded eagerly, latching onto his arm, taking in a final deep breath before they stepped inside. 

The crowd of guests were in awe as she passed, though she could not spare a glance to any of the onlookers that seemed to swoon at the sight of her. Her gaze was locked onto the man at the front of the room, meeting his eye effortlessly.

Aemond had been watching the door and nothing else for the past few minutes, anxiously awaiting her arrival. The second she stepped inside, his breath had been stolen from him. 

He felt nervous flutters within him, as if he was once again that little boy who was in love with his best friend before he even knew what it meant to love someone. 

His vision blurred slightly as tears gathered in his eye at the sight of her, so beautiful, so perfect, his wife. 

They couldn’t take their eyes off each other as her father removed the cloak from her shoulders. Aemond felt his breath hitch at the sight of her in her dress, the shape of her body, the delicate silk outlining every curve he had spent many nights memorizing and worshiping. 

As he stood before her, placing the heavy Targaryen cloak over her shoulders, he breathed in her familiar scent, calming every one of his nerves. 

He took her hand, guiding her up the steps of the dais. No one said a word as he kept his hand in hers, the crowd was absolutely enraptured by the sight of them, the Ladies dramatically sharing looks of longing at the couple as neither one of them spared a glance to the Septon that began the service. 

They only had eyes for each other. 

No one could deny the love they shared. As they spoke the words that bound them together, their smiles dazzling, no one could deny this was a marriage of pure love. 

“I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days.”

The words left him with ease. He used to dread this moment as a child, hating the idea of being bound to a woman he didn’t know and didn’t care for for the rest of his life, purely out of duty. 

Now, he couldn’t imagine saying the words to any other person but the woman in front of him. The thought of spending the rest of his days with her, his love, brought him nothing but relief and endless happiness, a feeling he never pictured for himself. 

Since he lost his eye, since a piece of him had literally been taken from him, he had always felt slighted, but now, as the Septon announced their union, as he kissed her for the first time as his wife, he felt whole again. 

He was no longer that overlooked second son, he was no longer that scarred and feared man who longed for revenge. 

He was a husband, he was her protector, her friend, her love. He felt he finally had a meaningful purpose, one that meant so much more than the duty his family expected from him. 

The crowd cheered voraciously. It wasn’t often they got to witness a union so blessed by affection. 

Aemond kept his awed gaze on her as they made their way down the aisle, his hand clasped tightly in hers, paying no mind to anyone else around him. 

They could scarcely keep their hands from each other. 

During the feast, Aemond kept his hand on her thigh, his touch thankfully hidden by the long train covering the table. As both of their fathers gave speeches, spouting lovely rhetorics of family and peace, he couldn’t bring himself to listen to a word of it. 

His attention was focused solely on the woman beside him. His wife. 

He felt himself smiling just at the thought of it, that he could finally say the word. 

When the music started and they made their way to the floor to share their first dance, a moment Aemond had been dreading for weeks, he found he couldn’t care less that everyone’s eyes were on him. 

He realized nothing else mattered. Everything he thought would make him feel insecure wasn’t even a thought in his mind. He held her closely, his heart racing as if they were dancing for the first time, as if he was touching her for the first time.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.” She spoke with a laugh.

“I have a good reason to smile.” He responded with a smirk as he twirled her. 

The guests couldn’t take their eyes off the couple as they danced. Most felt they were intruding on an intimate moment with how intently they gazed at each other, their love radiating from each of them effortlessly. 

They noticed how the couple sparsely ceased their touch from each other. The Lords present couldn’t help but feel slighted there would be no bedding ceremony. They were sure it would be a spectacle with how the Prince eyed his new wife with a hunger most men couldn’t conceive for their own wives. 

Aemond’s pout as his new wife accepted Helaena’s offer to dance, leaving him to sit by himself, would be fodder for most of the gossip the next morning. 

He watched her with a small smile, looking more at ease than the court had ever seen him, content at the mere sight of her delight as she twirled around with Helaena, their shared laughter ringing out louder than the music playing. 

He took a small sip from his wine, content to not drink much more, knowing he’d rather have a clear head for what the rest of the night held. He would finally take her as his wife, he would lay with her, spill his seed inside her without consequence. 

After tonight, her stomach could swell with his child and no one could say a thing. 

The thought made him desperate to drag her to their new shared chambers. He would be eager to see the end of the feast and lay with her for the rest of the night, but with how happy she was, he wouldn’t do a thing to take her away from it. 

As she twirled with Helaena, her head back, eyes closed, a picture of pure happiness, she suddenly lost her footing. She stumbled slightly, her eyes widening, but sturdy hands on her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

She stiffened at the voice in her ear, turning to see Aegon’s smarmy smile. She wanted nothing more than to wrench his hands off her, but she couldn’t make a scene at her own wedding. If she displayed any ounce of discomfort by his hands, she was sure Aemond would forever be tainted as the man who killed his own brother on his wedding night.

“Aegon…” Helaena called out wearily, not wanting her dear friend to be subjected to her brother’s cruel games, though she didn’t have power in her own corner to derail him.

“It’s alright Helaena.” She assured her, giving her a weak smile to the Princess who eyed her worriedly for a moment before retreating back to the head table. 

She cleared her throat and stood stiffly, holding back a grimace as Aegon’s hand slipped around her waist, his other taking hers, his grip tight and domineering, as if he wanted to prove to her how much stronger he was than her.

“You were lucky my grandsire allowed this to happen so quickly.” He spoke blatantly as they began to dance. “I was hoping to expose your big secret to the court.”

She felt her insides twist. Knowing Aegon was aware of her and Aemond’s secret, of their sneaking around, had her wanting to retreat where no one would find her. Even now they were married, Aegon still had the power to destroy her reputation.

She just hoped he ruined his own before he had the chance to tear her down. 

“You think they would listen to the words of a drunken idiot?” 

His smile turned wicked, his disdain for her clear, though there was no denying the lust in his gaze as he looked at her. He didn’t have to like her to fuck her. 

“More than they would listen to a whore who spreads her legs for anyone.”

“You mean my husband?” She retaliated, her patience for him wearing thin. 

Aegon chuckled, though his bitterness was clear. He leaned in close, his nose almost brushing against hers. She jerked back, sending him a vicious scowl, all she could allow herself under the prying eyes that surrounded her. 

“You could have been mine.” He crooned, the wine on his breath making her feel nauseous. “Gods only know why you decided to settle for my twat of a brother. As if he could please you better than I could, as if he could fuck you the way I could. I bet you were the first woman he ever bedded.”

His words made her feel sick to her stomach as she staunchly looked past his shoulder, refusing to look him in the eye. She didn’t want him to know how much he could get under her skin. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I would rather let the entire brothel of whores you sully yourself with flay every layer of my skin off slowly until I beg for death than ever crawl into bed with you.”

Aegon only smirked joyously.

“The mouth on you.” He admired with a shake of his head. “Such a shame it’s wasted on my brother.”

“Aegon.”

The stern voice of his brother made his eyes widen for a fraction of a second and he quickly schooled his expression, quickly removing his hands from his new good sister, plastering on a smirk so his brother wouldn’t see how successfully he could intimidate him.

She turned, meeting the questioning gaze of her husband. She nodded subtly, silently assuring him she was ok. 

He’d been chatting with her brother but the moment he spotted her in Aegon’s arms, he had abruptly given his well wishes to his new family and was quickly making his way to rescue her from his lecherous brother’s grip.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded eagerly, linking her arm through his, more than eager to say goodbye to the feast and make her way to bed with her new husband. 

“What, no bedding ceremony?” Aegon called out, forcing Aemond to send him a wicked glare. 

“Not if you wish to live, brother.” He spat and turned on his heel, desperate to get his wife far away from his depravity. 

He was more than thankful his good father had appealed to his father about doing away with the bedding ceremony. The Lord of Ixtal cared about his daughter too much to put her through that embarrassment. 

“Did he do anything?” He asked under his breath as they walked away, ignoring the cheers of congratulations from the guests he cared little for.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched in anger, his instincts telling him to turn back and threaten his brother within an inch of his life for daring to speak to his wife in ways that were anything but cordial. 

The moment they stepped out of the grand hall, allowing them a brief moment of privacy in the empty hallway, she pulled her arm from his and took his hands in her own, turning to face him, a soft smile on her face.

“Don’t let him ruin our night. This isn’t about him or anyone else. It’s about us.” 

He let out a long breath and nodded, though it wasn’t an easy feat to let go of the anger that burned hotly at the mere mention of his debauched brother’s attention on his love. 

“Besides, I’m quite eager to get to bed and if my husband chooses to delay any longer, I might begin to rethink this union.” She teased, smiling victoriously as his eye darkened with desire.

Her laughter echoed in the halls as Aemond practically dragged her to their chambers, his quick pace signaling he was equally as eager as she was to lose themselves in bliss.

~~

She lay draped across his bare chest, the sheets pooled at their hips. She hummed in contentment, her limbs aching, her eyes heavy with exhaustion as Aemond gently ran his fingers up and down the length of her arm. 

Any other night, his touch would lull her into much needed sleep, but the excitement that continued to course through her veins stubbornly kept her eyes open. 

She turned her head, looking up at her husband.

Gods, she would never get over saying that.

He looked down, their shared smiles growing as their gazes met. 

Her hand that was placed on his strong chest cheekily began to move lower, making him laugh.

“You can’t possibly be needing more.” He spoke tiredly. They had already gone multiple rounds, he had already pulled a countless number of orgasms from her. 

“I thought I married a dragon.” She teased. “Are you saying you no longer have the stamina to please your wife?” 

Aemond’s gaze darkened, his exhaustion worn out by his desire she could so effortlessly spark. 

“You dare to doubt me, wife?” He crooned, knowing how deeply the word affected her, watching with satisfaction as she practically preened against him, a wickedly delightful thrill coursing through her at the mention of their newly married status. 

She laughed and pushed at his chest, forcing him to lay back onto the pillows below him. He eagerly expected her to crawl atop him and ride him in the deliriously, mind bending way she could, but he was left in a pleasured surprise as she began to press heated kisses across his abdomen, moving lower torturously slowly.

He let out a heavy breath, his body thrumming with anticipation. He hissed as she took him in her mouth, his head falling back, already feeling weak under her touch, sensitive from his previous leg-shaking peaks. 

Her wicked tongue knew exactly what to do to render him a useless fool who couldn’t remember his own name. His hand tangled in her hair that was already a mess from their previous passionate rounds. 

His breath left him in heavy pants as she worked him with her mouth at a quick pace. He knew her well, he knew the determined glint in her eye signaled trouble for him. She went further and further and took him deep in her mouth until the tip of him hit the back of her throat. 

He whined, writhing against the bed, his hand that wasn’t pulling at her hair pathetically fisting the sheets below him in an effort to keep himself tethered to some semblance of control that she was steadily shattering. 

“You are wicked.” He moaned, the delight in his voice causing her lips to curl around him in the guise of a victorious smile. 

His lips were parted with a litany of moans and whines as he watched her, eagerly taking in the sight of her, his cock in her mouth, her eyes alight with desire, greedily taking his pleasure. She sped up the pace of her mouth, delighted at the sound of his loud groan echoing throughout the room. 

His toes began to curl, his weak body, already spent from hours of ecstasy, leaving him powerless under her. 

He called out her name frantically, sounding more debauched than he ever would have imagined he could have. 

“Oh fuck, just like that, darling, don’t stop.” 

She doubled her efforts, eager to see him fall apart. She loved to hear his noises of pleasure, to see him so unrestrained as he let himself fall to the haze of bliss. His back arched, both of his hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair, as if to ensure she wouldn’t leave him wanting, that she stayed worshiping him as she was, as only she could.

“Love,” He warned, feeling his end nearing, feeling the familiar fire beginning to stir within him, one that came before a powerful release. With only a few more flicks of her tongue, he felt himself shatter. 

He cried out, a loud, desperate sound most wouldn’t believe to have come from the surly Prince, as he came. His vision was stolen from him as he had squeezed his eye shut in the moment of climax, though he wouldn’t have denied that she had just extricated his soul from his body, leaving him to lose what was left of his sight. He didn’t doubt she had the ability.��

His chest heaved, his jaw slack, small whines leaving him as she was slow to part from him, her mouth lazily working his spent cock that twitched in overstimulation at her touch. 

He reached for her blindly, his limbs weak as though he had just fought a grueling battle. She grabbed his hand, laughing softly at the sight of him thoroughly exhausted. 

She allowed him to pull her over him, his hands desperate to touch her, to feel her close to him, to prolong the pleasure running through him. 

He kissed her hand, his lips moving up the length of her arm until he reached her neck, smiling at the sound of the contented noise that left her lips as he found the spot that always made her giggle with ticklish delight. 

“One of these days you are going to stop my heart.” He told her, still working to catch breath. 

“I would never do such a thing.” 

He smiled and kissed her firmly, his mind a haze of delirium. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming, for this seemed too perfect to be his life. He kissed her again, as if to confirm that this was real, that the woman that just brought him pleasure like no other was truly before him, that he was lucky enough to now call her his wife. 

“Give me five minutes and I will return the favor.”

~~

Their marriage was nothing short of blissful. Now there was no longer a need to hide, the public was shocked by how affectionate the dragon Prince acted towards his wife. One was seldom seen without the other. 

Maids constantly gossiped about the salacious noises heard from their shared chambers practically all hours of the day. With the noises the new Princess made nightly they couldn’t help but begin to lust over the elusive Prince, or at least wish he could give some tips to their own lovers. They almost fought over who got to service the Prince and his new wife to catch a glimpse of the lovesick expression on the feared one-eyed dragon’s face. 

It had to be seen to be believed. 

They knew it wouldn’t be long until the announcement of a new Targaryen babe was made. 

Aemond hated the attention. He wished he could take his wife across the sea and indulge in their newly wedded bliss in private. 

He had just sneered at yet another passing Lady who practically fawned at the sight of the two of them, when she laughed, tucking her arm tighter in his. 

They had simply been walking in the gardens together and still couldn’t escape the gossiping Ladies of the court who could talk of nothing else but their marriage and ponder about the feared one-eyed Prince’s new found prowess among the Ladies. 

“Do they have nothing better to do?” Aemond muttered in annoyance.

“Our novelty will wear off soon.” She assured him. “They are just not quite used to seeing you so… soft.”

“I am not soft.”

She laughed, the sound causing him to look over at his wife incredulously. The disbelieving look on his face only had her suppressing more laughter, 

“Tell me, dear husband, if I told you my legs were hurting and I couldn’t possibly make it to that bench over there, would you not carry me?”

Aemond regarded her for a moment, an almost imperceptible pout growing on his lips as he contemplated the situation. He knew there was no way he wouldn’t indulge her in anything she asked for. 

“That does not make me soft.” He answered defensively, though he knew he was a lost cause. 

She giggled at the obvious answer as they continued to walk. Aemond looked over at her, eyeing her carefully for a few moments, his brows furrowing.

“Your legs are not hurting are they?” 

Her laughter rang out in the gardens as she leaned in closer to his side. Aemond felt his own smile tugging at his lips and he placed a kiss to the top of her head.

He knew he would endure all of the petty gossip that came his way. He would endure a lot worse just to hear that laugh again. 

He almost couldn’t believe the bliss he was living in. He loved her more than he thought it was possible to love someone. Now that they no longer had to hide their true feelings for each other, now that they were married and could freely show affection without any repercussions, he found himself living in a dreamlike state. 

It felt too good to be true. 

Every day was spent showing the rest of the court just how much she meant to him, how he was hers and she was his and no one else mattered, while late nights were spent tangled in bed, their limbs weak with pleasure, a time just for them and no one else. 

As she got up to pour them another cup of wine they had been drinking before he had dragged her to their bed, she looked over her shoulder at her husband who was looking up at the ceiling tiredly, a content smile on his face.

“Have I finally worn you out?” She teased as she handed him his cup. 

He chuckled softly and took the cup, drinking down much needed swallows of the sweet wine. She crawled back into bed beside him, settling herself in his open arms once again. She pressed teasing kisses across his chest, feeling the hum of soft moans that escaped him. 

He cupped her face and kissed her firmly, the gesture lacking much heat as they were both thoroughly spent from the haze of pleasure they’d been tangled in for hours. 

He pulled away, letting his forehead rest against hers as he took her in, simply admiring his wife with an awe that was certainly not unfamiliar to either of them. 

She noticed a flicker of something she didn’t recognize flash across his face, his eye softening almost imperceptibly. 

“What’s on your mind, Love?” She asked, nuzzling in closer to him as she sensed his sudden anxious energy. 

He stayed quiet for a moment longer, carefully contemplating his next words and if he should divulge the sudden thought in his head to her. 

“What if…” He started softly, his teeth worrying his lip as he feared her reaction. “What if you didn’t drink any moon tea tomorrow?”

Her expression smoothed out in surprise at his request. She couldn’t deny that it was something she had thought of since their wedding, but she had never spoken of her fantasies of silver haired children with her husband. She knew he had complicated feelings for his own family, especially his father, and she never wanted to bring it up in fear of pushing him to something he feared.  

“Is that something you want?” 

“I want everything with you.” He told her sincerely. 

The beaming smile that grew on her lips soothed every ounce of anxiety he had and he breathed out deeply, leaning forward to kiss her once more. 

“You’re going to be a wonderful father.” 

Her whispered words made his insides twist and flutter in ways that left him holding back the flood of emotions he hadn’t expected, her words soothing the deep rooted anxiety he felt at the prospect of starting a family, no matter how badly he wanted it. He had no way to tell her how grateful he was for her, there were no words conceivable to tell her the depth of his love for her. 

So he settled for kissing her, silently thanking the Gods above for bringing him to the woman in his arms. 

~~

Aemond stepped into their shared chambers the same time he always did, his perfect hair slightly disheveled from his time spent training. He stopped in his tracks, the warmth in his expression gone in an instant as he eyed the Maester sitting before her with growing apprehension.

“What’s wrong?” 

She laughed at his blatant worry as he approached her quickly, reaching for her hand. 

“Everything’s fine, Darling.” 

“What happened?” He turned to ask the Maester, all care gone from his voice, leaving nothing but strict power as he demanded an answer. 

“The Princess wasn’t feeling well this morn-”

“Are you alright? Why didn’t you tell me?” He interrupted, turning his attention back to her, his concerned tone back in full force, all traces of the demanding Prince gone as he kneeled before her, his expression wracked with worry. 

She smiled again in amusement and looked to the Maester. 

“Would you mind giving us a moment?” 

The old man nodded respectfully, giving her a warm smile and hastily leaving the room, most likely relieved to gain some distance from the dragon Prince with the feared temper. 

She intertwined her fingers with Aemond’s, taking in a deep breath as she prepared herself to bring him the life changing news. 

“I have been feeling a little off the last few days and I called the Maester to confirm my suspicion.” She explained vaguely, her mischievous smirk remaining as she watched Aemond’s brow furrow deeper in concern. 

“And?”

Deciding to finally let her husband off the hook and spare him his heart that was no doubt racing in anticipation, his dramatic mind probably conjuring horrible conclusions, she guided his hand forward, letting his palm rest flatly on her stomach. 

She watched him carefully, noting the exact moment he realized what she was telling him. His lips parted and his gaze moved from his hand to her face abruptly, his eye shrouded in disbelief, looking at her pleadingly, as if needing confirmation that this was real. 

She let out a laugh and nodded, tears brimming in her eyes at the pure love she saw in Aemond’s. He let out a breathless laugh, the sound of delight one she had never remembered ever hearing from him before. He grabbed her hands, swiftly bringing her to her feet and barely a second later, he was hugging her tightly, his hands gripping onto her desperately.

Her delighted laughter filled the room as he twirled her around, the moment filled with nothing but elation. 

“Thank you.” He whispered from where his head rested in the crook of her neck. 

She smiled, her own emotions rising at the sound of him so touched, so loved. 

He pulled out of the embrace, his gaze immediately falling to her stomach that had yet to show any evidence of the life that grew there. He pictured it swelling, the bump that would grow with their child, the life they had created together and he was sure his heart was moment away from bursting out of sheer love. 

“I can’t believe it.” He breathed out in awe. It had only been about a month since they had made the decision to forgo moontea, he had no idea it would happen for them this quickly. 

“With how often you take me to bed, surely this isn’t a surprise.” 

He looked almost proud at her jest and she shook her head, pulling him in for another embrace that he gladly returned, his arms holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world and if anyone were to ask, Aemond would certainly agree. 

He kissed the top of her head and pulled back, taking her face in his hands as he looked down at her reverently.

“You have given me more than I ever could have imagined I would have.” He told her honestly. “You’ve made me the happiest man to ever live.” 

He kissed her with all the love he could, hoping it would be enough to convey every ounce of adoration he held for her. 

However, their peace didn’t last long. 

Rhaenyra and her sons would soon be arriving at King’s Landing to counter Vaemond Velaryon’s petition for the Driftmark throne.

The moment Aemond heard the news, he became reserved, building that familiar brooding wall around him, portraying that of the feared one-eyed prince the court loved to gossip about. 

The night before they were due to arrive, he had resided in their chambers, wishing to avoid the prying eyes of the court and their whispers about his bastard nephews and the likelihood of there being another duel between them that would result in bloodshed.

He heard the door of their shared chambers open and close, but his gaze remained on the flickering flames in the hearth in front of him. 

“There you are.” Her sweet voice called out, his wife taking her place at his side. “I’ve barely seen you all day.”

“I’ve been here.” He responded softly, his voice lacking its usual warmth that was always present with her. 

She watched him carefully, knowing exactly what was eating away at him, but hesitant to mention it, unsure of how he would react. The mere mention of his nephews was enough to incite his rage. 

“Do you wish to talk about it?” She asked softly.

“No.”

His voice was curt, betraying just how tormented he felt. A flare of pain lashed his scar, the sapphire in place of his eye seemingly burning, as if the thought of that Strong bastard’s imminent arrival alone could cut him like the dagger he wielded that night. 

A tense silence lingered between them, one they both hated. 

With a pained hiss, he tore his eye path off, tossing it to the side carelessly, his sharp features contorted in pain. He leaned his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands as the sapphire in his eye bloomed with pain. 

It wasn’t often the wound still caused him aggravation, but in the moments it did, he always felt like he was that young, helpless boy again. His hands shook slightly as the pain flared so deeply it was all he could do to breathe through it. 

Within seconds he felt gentle hands on his, carefully prying them from his face. He looked up to his wife sitting before him, the concern on her face stirring his emotions he tried desperately to hold back. 

He noticed the vial of ointment in her hands, the one the Maesters gave to him to use whenever his wound became unbearable. He was tense as she cradled his cheek, her thumb caressing the edge of his scar, her eyes taking in the angry looking wound. She had seen him do this for himself a few times but he had never let her do it before. 

She looked at him thoughtfully, posing a silent question to which he nodded slightly, still hesitant to let her touch what was his greatest shame, but the pain was becoming unbearable, he was left out of options. 

She dipped her finger into the ointment and carefully applied it to his eye, her own heart racing as she felt her husband was baring a piece of himself he had been adamant on hiding for so long. 

As her fingers brushed as gently as possible across his wounded eye, the cooling ointment bringing him relief immediately, he finally started to let himself relax, releasing a long breath. 

She reached out with her other hand, laying it over his own that was still clenched into a fist, beginning to trace meaningless shapes over his knuckles. Her touch soothed something in him he didn’t even know could be soothed, the simple gesture enough for him to feel comforted in a way only she could give him. He sighed loudly as he sank into his seat, the rigidity leaving him limb by limb. 

Smiling softly at the sight of him so much calmer than before, she moved to sit next to him once she was finished. Aemond was quick to close the distance between them, moving in closer to her side, taking her hand in his, eager for her touch. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, the look of reverence he sent her stirring her own emotions and she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears. She would never understand what he went through as a child, she would never understand what he felt for his nephews, but she was adamant she would be there for him in the moments he struggled. 

“You never need to thank me for this.” She assured him. 

Another heavy breath escaped him, as if his ire was leaving him with each exhale. His resentment was no match for the love his wife gave him. It would succumb to her each and every time. 

His hand roamed gently over her body, eventually finding its place on her stomach, where it stayed, pulling a small laugh from her.

“You do realize there’s no bump yet.”

Aemond just shrugged, the look of contentment on his face a far cry from the derision that had steadily remained all day. 

“It doesn’t matter. He’s still in there.”

“He?”

He seemed bashful as he looked up at his wife, a slight blush on his cheeks, as if embarrassed to admit the many nights he spent thinking about their child, imagining their son as the perfect mix of them both, of how much he already loved their child. 

“It’s just a feeling.” 

She began to picture it, Aemond cradling their son, his eyes the same vibrant blue of his father’s, his smile wide, his cheeks chubby, every bit of him absolutely perfect. 

Her own smile grew, her vision growing blurry as tears gathered in her eyes at the thought, her hormones that were now on a hair trigger since her pregnancy, coming to a head. 

“Hey,” Aemond called out in concern, reaching up to caress her cheek and she shook her head, letting out a small laugh.

“They’re happy tears.” 

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly. It was easy to forget the turmoil he felt, that he was soon to face the object of his anger, when he was next to his wife, their child growing within her. 

That night, he was ravenous. He had taken her with a fervor he hadn’t felt in weeks. He had been insatiable when he knew of her pregnancy, but he seemed to treat her like glass, as if she were now delicate because of the precious life that grew within her. 

His touches had always been gentle, but urgent, hungry yet loving. 

Tonight, he was starved. He fucked her as if they were newlyweds again, every touch portraying just how desperate he felt for her. 

“Aemond!” She cried out, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling hard as he brought her to yet another blissful orgasm.

He growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck, the enticing nip at her neck making her moan. His steady pace never faltered, his powerful hips crashing against hers as he chased his own end. 

Her cries turned to laughs, delirious with pleasure. 

“I love you.” She breathed out and screamed as his pace became quicker, his thrusts becoming harsher, more frantic as he quickly approached his high. 

“Say it again.” He growled, now hovering over her as he gazed down at the beauty beneath him, his eye and the striking sapphire a sight that left her shivering under his tight grip.

“I love you.” She repeated, hoping he believed every word, hoping he knew just how much she cherished him, how much he meant to her. “You are the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I’ll ever love for the rest of my life.”

His jaw clenched, his eye squeezing shut as the sight of her below him, writhing in pleasure, was just too much to handle. He was powerless against her. 

His thrusts became relentless, the bed shaking beneath them with every one of his brutal strokes. 

He breathed harshly, feeling as though flames were alight in his veins. 

“Again.” He commanded roughly. 

She shivered at the commanding edge of his voice, her toes curling as she felt sparks ignite within her. 

“I love you, more than anything.” 

Her breathless words were his undoing. He shouted a curse and groaned loudly, his arms feeling weak as he practically fell over her, never stopping his movements, his cock thrusting into her almost violently as he came, his body shaking against hers. 

She gasped at the feeling of him spilling inside her, her arms wrapping tighter around him, her head thrown back as she cried out, his name falling from her lips in a chant, as if he were a deity she prayed to for salvation. 

“I love you.” She whispered breathlessly and began to laugh tiredly as he planted kisses over the expanse of her neck, making his way upwards until he met her lips, kissing her soundly, as if she were the very air he breathed. 

“I love you.” He panted in a blissful daze. 

By the next morning, every good feeling Aemond had coveted the night before had dissipated like smoke in the wind. 

He woke early and spared his sleeping wife a kiss to the forehead before heading to the training yard where he spent the rest of the morning, endlessly sparring with Ser Criston and any other worthy opponent available when the knight needed a break from his endless plights. 

Those that dared to step up were left bloody and bruised in a matter of minutes. 

Aemond was wound tightly, his entire being ready to snap as he laid his eye on his nephews for the first time in years. The fury that had been buried deeply within him for years bubbled to the surface with one look at the brown haired bastards. 

The sapphire in place of his eye burned as his glare remained steady on them. 

He preened inwardly as they cowered under his eye. To know they couldn’t meet his gaze brought him more satisfaction than he had expected. He grabbed his sword and gestured to Ser Criston to get into position.

He fought with determination as if he were in actual battle, as if his life was truly threatened and every movement dictated his survival. With every powerful strike of his sword against Criston’s shield, he felt vindicated, as though the years of shame that had come from the bullying he endured from his own brother and nephews stripped off layer by layer with each powerful swing of his weapon. 

His eye drifted to his nephews, a sickly satisfied smirk growing at the sight of their intimidation. 

They held no power over him now. He had made sure of it. 

“Husband.” 

Her voice cut through the haze of victory he had been lavishing in. He turned on his heel, confusion overtaking him as he saw his wife standing in the training yard. He dropped his sword and rushed over to her side. 

“What are you doing down here? Is everything alright?”

She didn’t often make her way down into the training yards and with her current state, he couldn’t help but fret over her every minute of the day he was with her.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t killing yourself before the petition.”

He sighed heavily. He didn’t know if he loved or hated how easily his wife could read him. She took his hand and he let her guide him out of the yard. 

“You’ve been here for hours, I think you’ve earned yourself a break.” 

He opened his mouth to retort, but she stopped him with a knowing look. 

“Based on the looks on your nephews face’s I think you’ve proven everything you needed to prove.”

The smirk that grew on his lips should have worried her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel any concern for the ire he felt for his nephews. It was more than justified, she just hoped it would be enough, that their visit to the Keep wouldn’t result in any more bloodshed. 

Aemond looked back into the training yard, as if hesitant to leave the glory he’d managed to carve out for himself, for the retribution he felt he had finally earned, no matter how slight it was, but her hand in his forced him back to her in an instant. 

“Don’t let them get to you. They hold no power over you.” She told him softly and he let out a long breath, allowing the hatred that had been clouding him all day roll over him like dark thunder clouds making way for the shining sun to warm up the earth after a vicious storm. 

His hand remained steadily in hers, as if needing her like a lifeline in tumultuous waves. She was the only thing that kept him tethered to himself, that kept him from spiraling into his anger. 

She could see how tense he was and if it were any other day, if they didn’t have royal duties to attend to, she would’ve been content to keep him in their chambers and let him use her to both of their delights until he was spent, too exhausted to feel any anger at all. 

She didn’t like to see him in this state. It was so unlike the sweet boy that had been by her side for years. She didn’t like what her nephews had created in him the night he claimed Vhagar. 

~~

The petition unfolded as she expected. While King Viserys’ presence had been a surprise, Vaemond’s demise certainly wasn’t, especially after the accusations he had spouted to Princess Rhaenyra and her sons. 

Aemond had tugged on her arm, instinctively pulling her behind him as Daemon brought his sword down upon the man. 

He had shielded her from the violent display, something she had been grateful for. With the pregnancy hormones swirling within her, she most often felt nauseous around anything that wasn’t plain bread. The sight of Vaemond’s severed head would’ve been enough to put her off eating for the rest of her life. 

As the court reacted in a frenzy to the brutal display, Aemond had placed his hand on her stomach, his eye looking her over carefully, ready to rush her out of the room at the slightest hint of nausea. 

She gripped his hand and nodded to his silent question, assuring him she was ok, that she wasn’t about to spill her guts in front of everyone, though the darkened look in his eye remained. Who it was targeted at, she wasn’t quite sure. 

Neither one of them had been looking forward to the family dinner Viserys was adamant on hosting. It was as if he was completely oblivious to the tension in the family as he forced them in proximity to each other. 

Aemond had barely spoken a word as they readied themselves for dinner. He was tense, his face drawn tightly, as if he expected the worst to unfold, as if he were facing enemies on a battlefield and not a simple dinner with his family. 

“We don’t have to attend.” She told him, wishing she could protect him from the torment he felt in the face of his nephews. 

He didn’t spare a look to her, every inch of him was shrouded in anger, barely contained fury that he couldn’t shake. He didn’t seem like the man she married at that moment. 

“Why wouldn’t I attend?” He asked, as if his torment wasn’t visible, as if she wasn’t aware of the burning anger he couldn’t shake, the vitriol he experienced as a child coming back to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of the slights that he had been faced with. 

“Aemond,” She started softly. “No one expects you to forgive them.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head, his expression filled with bitter irritation. 

“No one expects me to hold any anger at all.” 

She frowned deeply and approached him slowly, eyeing him carefully. She had never felt so out of depth when it came to her husband but she would be damned if she left him to suffer alone.

“We don’t have to go.”

He clenched his jaw, his eye holding a faraway look, signaling he was deep in thought. 

She reached out, cupping his face in his hands, startling him out of his reverie that was filled with nothing but hatred. 

“You just tell me and we’ll leave. I’ll make an excuse and we can go without any question.”

Her words, her ability to show him she was staunchly in his corner, a feeling no one else had ever assured him of, disarmed him completely. There was one thing his nephews would never take from him, the love he felt from his wife stood the test of time, standing strongly against any other force that dared to weaken him. His eye softened, his hand reaching out to grasp her arm, his fingers gently caressing her skin. 

“What have I done to deserve you?” He whispered, his voice cloaked with reverence, as if surprised by the love she held for him. 

She frowned, hating when he spoke as if he didn’t deserve the love she showed him, as if it was some kind of gift he wasn’t worthy of coveting. 

“You read to me my second day here.” She answered simply, reminding him of the beginning of it all, when they were nothing more than two wonderstruck children. 

He exhaled deeply, desperately wanting to hold onto that feeling that always surrounded him when he thought of their childhood together, like warmth embracing him soundly. 

It was a feeling he kept close to him as they walked to the dining hall, though he knew it was futile. The feeling would be gone, shielded in the depths of him in the face of his family.

As they stepped into the hall, Aemond left her side to grab her a drink from the servers, allowing her to step towards Rhaena and Baela, greeting them politely. Rhaena was quick to give her a smile, while Baela only had distrustful eyes to throw in her direction. 

Her name was called and she turned to see Rhaenyra approaching her with a warm smile. 

She smiled and embraced the Princess slightly awkwardly. She had fond memories of the woman growing up, especially in times when she was desperately missing her own mother, but it had been years since she had seen her and knowing her actions on the night Aemond’s eye had been taken had irrevocably changed her view of the woman since.

“It’s good to see you again, Dear.” Rhaenyra smiled warmly at her. “Where is your father, I was hoping to say hello.”

“He’s at Ixtal. He was missing my mother and decided to take a short visit.” 

“You didn’t join him?”

She felt her cheeks heat at the question and she couldn’t help but smile. 

“I would, but I wasn’t exactly in a good state to travel.” She explained and placed her hand on her stomach exaggeratedly. 

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened and she beamed a smile, laughing happily. 

“That is wonderful news.” The Princess congratulated. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.” 

A hand on the small of her back made her look up to see her husband now at her side, his steely eye locked onto his half-sister whose smile faltered at his sudden presence. She cleared her throat, her demeanor now tense as she nodded politely in greeting.

Rhaenyra left their side quickly, leaving her to wonder just how deeply one family could fracture. She couldn’t imagine ever greeting her brothers in that manner. She couldn’t imagine hating the ones she shared blood with. 

Letting out a long breath, knowing she was in for an eventful night, she turned to Aemond, placing her hand on his arm that was stiff, as if he wouldn't allow himself to relax or even take a breath in their presence. 

They all took their seats, the tension in the room strangling as King Viserys was carried in. 

She held back a grimace at the sight of the decrepit King. He was a far cry from the man she had met all those years ago, far from the man who was a dear friend to her father. 

The awkward aura in the room remained steadfast, with most avoiding eye contact with each other. Even Viserys’ heartened speech about family and the uniting of the house of the dragon did little to mend the obvious rift in the family.

Until Rhaenyra stood. She was shocked to hear her speak such lovely words about the Queen and for the Queen to return the sentiment. 

Their apparent truce for the time being broke the tension, though her husband at her side remained tense, his lone eye unflinchingly cold as he regarded his distant family. 

Her eyes kept circling back to him, as if waiting for the moment he would strike. She wondered when the wood of the chair under his white-knuckled grip would splinter. She wondered when the night would take an irredeemable turn.

She didn’t even get to enjoy Helaena’s thinly veiled jab towards Aegon in her toast, she was too worried about her husband to pay attention to the others around her. 

When the music began, signaling the end of the toasts, she leaned back in her seat, giving her husband a small encouraging smile, anticipating that they had made it through the worst the night had to offer. 

Aemond remained stiff as stone, his posture straight and rigid. She noticed his eye darken further, his gaze locked past her and she turned, her brows furrowing slightly as Jacaerys stepped towards her, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Would you care to dance, Princess?” He asked, offering her his hand. 

She stared at his hand for a long second, contemplating her choices. With the entirety of the table watching the exchange, she knew she had little choice but to accept his offer. 

She spared a brief glance to her husband beside her and the fury that blazed in his lone eye would have melted the wall in the great north. With a heavy breath, she gingerly took Jace’s hand and stood from her seat, allowing him to guide her away from the table.

Her husband’s gaze practically burned at her back. 

Aemond watched with barely contained rage as the bastard danced with his wife. His teeth grinded together so harshly it was a wonder they didn’t crack. He briefly contemplated what the repercussions would be if he murdered the Strong bastard where he stood. 

The fire within him was simmering, ready to unleash as he watched another man touch his wife. The smile on the bastard’s face left Aemond wondering whether he should slit his throat, dismember him, or let Vhagar turn him to ash. 

None of the choices seemed punishment enough. 

As Jace twirled her, her eyes briefly met Aemond’s and her stomach twisted at his expression. She knew tonight wouldn’t end peacefully. 

She flinched slightly as Jace quickly spun her back into his arms, causing her to almost crash into his chest, forcing her much closer to him than she felt was necessary. She leaned back to gain some distance, hoping it wasn’t noticeable, hoping her husband hadn’t been able to tell she had been uncomfortable for a mere second.

Jace would be dead and buried before the sun rose if that were the case. 

“I have to admit, I was quite shocked when I heard the news of your wedding.” Jace suddenly spoke, keeping his voice low so only she would hear. 

“What was so shocking?”

“I didn’t expect you to end up with someone like him.”

“Someone like him? You mean my oldest friend?” She questioned, disdain creeping through her tone, her defenses raised, which didn’t allow her the wherewithal to speak in a friendly manner. 

Jace sighed, as if wanting to dispute the simple fact that she and Aemond had been close for years before marriage was even a thought in either of their heads. 

“You two are very different.” He said with a slight shrug. “I pictured you with someone more… warm, romantic even.” 

“I assure you, my prince, my husband is plenty romantic. You do not need to worry yourself about my marriage.” She smiled stiffly. 

Jace, seeming to sense her attitude, remained silent for the remainder of the dance. As the song ended, she politely curtsied and was walking back to the table before he could rise from his bow. 

The tension didn’t dissipate as she took her seat at her husband’s side once more. If anything, the fury radiating from the man beside her only set her more on edge. Aemond leaned into her, making her shoulders tense both in apprehension and desire. 

“If he touches you again, I will break every bone in his body.” Aemond hissed in her ear, smirking delightedly at the shiver she repressed. 

She looked up at him, his fury now morphed into an insatiable hunger only she could tame. She knew she would be in for a long night. 

She was just thankful he seemed to be feeling anything other than murderous rage. 

But it did not last long. 

She had been speaking quietly to Helaena, Aemond’s hand in hers, his thumb caressing over her knuckles a steady comfort when he suddenly pulled away. 

She barely had time to look over at her husband before he was bolting out of his chair. His fist that slammed on the table made her flinch in surprise, her wide eyes looking up at him in confusion.

“Final tribute.” 

Her heart raced wildly in her chest, her gaze wandering around the table, wondering what could have possibly stoked his fury. It wasn’t until she saw the sheepish guilt that permeated with fear on Lucerys’ expression that she began to understand. 

“To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… strong.”

She felt her breath hitch in her throat, her wide eyed gaze meeting Alicent’s for a brief moment, his mother looking equally as petrified for what was to unfold. 

“Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”

She sent her husband a pleading look, but it was lost on him, his gaze, full of hatred, cemented on his nephews. 

“I dare you to say that again.”

“Why? Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

She gasped, her hand covering her mouth as Jace landed a punch to Aemond’s cheek. The room erupted in chaos. She could watch with disappointment as her husband pushed his nephew to the ground, as Aegon joined in and shoved Lucerys against the table. 

Helaena stood from her seat and rushed towards her, her face shrouded in fear. She sighed and stood from her seat, wrapping her arm around her friend who seemed disturbed by the rift tearing in her family before her. 

“It’s alright.” She assured her. 

Across the room, Rhaenyra’s eyes bored into hers, pleading, as if she had any control over her husband’s ire. She sent her an apologetic look and bowed her head, wishing Aemond had taken up her offer to avoid the dinner altogether. 

The room came to a standstill, the fighting men separated, a room divided by two factions. 

Aemond glared at his uncle who looked at him as if disappointed, as if he were out of line to enact revenge for the slight against him. 

He grit his teeth and in a quick motion, swallowed the wine left in his cup before turning back to the table. He avoided looking at his wife as he grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him as he stormed out of the room.

Her feet moved quickly to keep up with his quick pace, her heart in her throat as he led them through the halls.

Once they were back in their chambers, her eyes seldom left him, watching every one of his movements carefully, noticing how highly strung he still was, how stiffly he moved as paced for a moment before he finally took a seat on the edge of the bed. 

His anger wouldn’t be leaving him easily. 

“Are you alright?”

He stayed quiet for a long moment, gazing ahead blankly, the burning fury that simmered in his veins leaving him practically trembling, the desire to wreak havoc not yet dissipating. 

Every part of him was wrought with tension, his mind a mess of thoughts, though his anger was the easiest to make sense of. 

“Don’t try to convince me that what I did was wrong.” He spoke bitterly.

“I won’t.” 

His jaw clenched, the events of the last few minutes running through his head on a loop, keeping him in the state of rage that made him shake, that made his hands twitch, wishing he had done more, wishing he could hurt that bastard the way he had been hurt all those years ago.

The thought briefly startled him. It was a thought he used to have frequently, when the rage in his heart was so new he didn’t know what to do with it. It was a thought he hadn’t focused on since being with her. 

The revelation had an unfamiliar upset stirring within him.

“I should sleep in my old chambers tonight.” He muttered tersely. 

The bitter anger burned within him, he felt on the edge of cracking and he would hate himself if he ever took it out on her, his sweet wife. He felt he needed to be far away from her to avoid darkening her with his presence.

“What?”

The sadness in her voice almost broke him. He closed his eye and bowed his head, he couldn’t bear to see the look on her face. 

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” 

It was quiet for a long moment, his words lingering in the room like an ominous death rattle that signaled the bitter end after a long, torturous fight. 

But she refused to let him sink into his despair. 

He flinched as she stepped before him, catching his gaze. Her hands smoothed out the doublet he wore, roaming upwards to brush the hair off his shoulders and gently caressing his neck as she reached up to hold his jaw affectionately. 

He let out a deep breath, the tension slowly but surely easing from him in waves under her touch. 

“I am not letting you feel this alone.” She told him, her voice soft yet stern, letting him know there was no way he would change her mind about this, that nothing could force her to accept his absence from her side. 

“I don’t seem to recognize myself around them.”

His whispered confession hit her harder than she had expected and she felt her breath hitch in her throat, her own emotions rising to the surface at the sight of him so tormented. 

“You can never undo what they took from you.” She began slowly, her voice wavering slightly. “I’ll never understand what you’ve been through. I wish I could and I’m so sorry I don’t, but you cannot let this consume you.”

His face remained a mask of torment, his derision and anger battling against the exhaustion that permeated his bitterness, that left him feeling weak in the aftermath of his rage. 

She gently guided him to tilt his head upward so she could look at him, so he could see her and the resolution on her face and understand her honesty.

“You are more than your eye. You are more than the rage you feel when you look at them. You are more than them.”

He almost shuddered under her hands, the words striking him with force as though they were dealt with a physical hit. 

“I see you, the real you. The one I fell in love with, my sweet husband, the father of my child.” 

With that, she grabbed his hand to place it over her stomach and his expression changed in an instant, the anger gone as he caressed where his child grew. 

He leaned forward, his forehead falling to rest against her chest, his arms circling her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her to step closer to him, her own arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him tightly. 

She ran her fingers through his hair, the soft motions pulling a soft sound from deep within him, his rigid body falling lax against her. 

As she hugged him tightly she felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She wished she could pull the agony from him, untangle the strings of rage that wound him so tightly. 

She wished she could’ve gone back in time and held tighter to the wounded boy who hid his despair from her for so long. 

~~

The girls are fightinggg

And the angst is coming xx

~~

Tag List:

@jacaeryslover @allsouls-emma @lianna75 @emoxio @noneedtosearch @watashiwasun @guacam011y @darlingisntit @trickycarrot89-blog @stcrrjoon @knyam @bettysexile @marysucks-blog @lovelyteenagebeard @anehkael @darktrashsoulbear @violetiss3lfish @hueanhdang @mamawiggers1980 @azaleapotterblack @littlestarfighter03 @discofairysworld @ner-dee

[sturniowhore]

Bf!Chris hcs

warnings: fluff, smut (nsfw section), established relationship, Chris x fem!reader, some blurbs are long

A/n: FIC #2 LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO not that proud of this one ngl

Tags: @d3axplr @mattsturnziolio

Dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

SFW

Bf!Chris who is insanely clingy. He'll always be attached to you in one way or another.

It was 11am, you have to go to work in 2 hours. You tried getting up but your boyfriend was basically smothering you. "Chris I need to get ready" You whined, trying to push him off. Instead of letting you leave like any normal person would, Chris just held you tighter against him. "Just call in sick" "Chris, you made me call in sick 2 days ago I'm gonna get fired." The boy just shrugged, not caring. "you don't need a job I buy everything for you anyway." "Chris I'm being serious I have to go." You tried sitting up, it was no use he just pushed you down. "5 more minutes" "That's what you said 15 minutes ago!"

Bf!Chris who never lets you do anything, why would you do it when he has 2 hands himself?

You and Chris were coming home from a shopping trip at the mall. His hands were filled with several of your shopping bags, and your hands were empty. Chris didn't mind, he was the one who offered to carry them. As the two of you approached the front door, your hands went inside your purse that was on your shoulder, searching for the house key. You brought out the key, twisting it on the key hole and were about to open it before Chris's hands stopped you. "i got it." He smirked down at you. You raised your eyebrows "Chris you're so sweet but your hands are literally full." He waved you off, moving in front of you to get to the door. He struggled a bit but managed to twist the handle, allowing for the door to open. He kicked the door with his foot, motioning for you to get in with his head. "After you" he grinned. You laughed at his gesture and went inside, Chris following close behind.

Bf!Chris who always pays attention, he'll see you pick up a book or a trinket you find interesting and make a mental note of buying it for you later.

The two of you were at a small bookstore. You were browsing the shelves humming to the song that was playing in the store, Chris right behind you like a lost puppy. Every so often you would pick up a book you found interesting, reading the back of it to learn what it's about then put it back where it was. When you go on to a different section of the store, Chris takes a picture of the book that was just in your hands, promising himself that he's going to buy it for you in a couple days.

Bf!Chris who buys you flowers randomly.

It was a random Thursday afternoon. You were hanging out in the living room reading a book when you heard the door opening. Nick, Matt and Chris came back home after filming a vlog for their channel. Chris came up the stairs practically sprinting towards you, his hands behind his back. "guess what?" "what?" you look up at him smiling. He reveals his hands from behind him and gives you a bouquet of pink tulips. "They reminded me of you so I had to get em." Matt rolled his eyes at the interaction "We were 2 minutes away from the house and he made me turn all the way back for just for them."

Bf!Chris who will always put your comfort above his.

You two were at a party. Chris was having a great time, laughing and catching up with his friends. You.. not so much. You had a terrible day at work, the lights were too bright, the music was too loud, so many people were bumping into you, your clothes felt itchy on your skin, and you have a terrible headache. All you wanted more than ever right now was to go home, but you couldn't tell Chris that.. he was looking forward to this party all week. So you decided to suck it up and at least pretend that you were having a good time. You were sat in the corner away from everyone else, looking down at your feet praying that no one would come up to you. Chris took notice, he met your gaze silently asking if everything was okay. Even though your eyes said yes, he knew you weren't. He walked up to you and rubbed his hands on your shoulder "hey ma.. you good?" You nodded your head quickly "yeah I just have a small headache but I'm fine! You go have fun" Chris gave you a sympathetic smile "you wanna leave?" You looked up at him, you so desperately wanted to say yes but didn't want him to feel disappointed. "no i'll be fine I promise, plus I know how you were looking forward to this I don't wanna take it away from you" He shook his head, offering you his hand "I'm not having fun if you're not having fun. c'mon lets go home." You shot him a grateful smile, taking his hand as he led you towards the door. "thank you" your voice small, He brought your hand to his lips giving it a gentle kiss "of course."

Bf!Chris who has you model for his brand.

Chris insisted for you to model for him not taking no for an answer. He loves you in his clothes especially his brand. Seeing you pose for his newest drop makes him feel giddy inside. Chris loves showing you off, he can't keep his eyes off of you. Someone from his team is telling him something but the words go in one ear and out the other, all his focus is towards you. How could he focus on anything but you? You looked flawless, you looked so good in fact that no one would believe you if you told them this was your first time modeling. Chris watches you with lit eyes and a huge smile, He truly believes that you are the most beautiful person to ever walk the earth.

Bf!Chris who can always makes you laugh even in the most serious situations.

Your period cramps were bad, your mood swings were going wild, every body in the house knew to keep their distance from you this week. Everyone but your boyfriend. You were laying in bed with a heating pad to your stomach when Chris came into the room and leaped on the bed causing your position to shift. "Chris! can you not?" You snapped at him. He didn't even flinch at the words, instead he turns towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. "Ugh Chris please gimmie some space" You plead struggling against him. The boy started peppering kisses all over your face, at first you were annoyed but soon that annoyance turned into joy. You giggle at every kiss that tickles your face. Satisfied with himself by making you laugh he stopped and stared at you "if I turned into chicken Alfredo would you eat me or would you know it was me?" Chris asked as if this was a life or death question. You looked at him in disbelief and amusement "Chris.. what!?"

Bf!Chris who kisses your tears away.

You and Chris were watching the notebook together. You were bawling your eyes out, snot coming out of your nose and everything. You were truly a mess. Chris on the other hand was fine, the movie was sad yes but it wasn't sad enough for him to cry, honestly he thought you were being a bit dramatic. "Sh-she's gonna f-forget him" You sob, trying to wipe the tears away with a tissue, it's no use the tears keep on coming. Chris laughs at your antics, you notice and swat his arm "Stop laughing at me!" You pout, still crying. He cups your face, his eyes soften and a small smile appears on his lips. He leans down and kisses the tears running down your cheeks away. "you're cute when you cry."

Bf!Chris who always listens to you speak never interrupting you once.

The triplets invited you to do a car video with them. The four of you were having a great time, chatting and laughing. An interesting topic came up and you had a lot to say about it. As you were speaking Chris stared at you intently, not interrupting at all. Matt and Nick were shocked, usually Chris would always try to get his opinions out, not caring if someone was in the middle of saying something or not. But with you he's different, he listens to your every word. A soft smile gracing his face as he watches you talk. He loves hearing your voice, The boy is absolutely in love with you.

Bf!Chris who will never let you be embarrassed alone.

"NO WAY!" You said a bit too loudly, a few people from different tables at the restaurant glanced your way. You slumped back in your seat, embarrassed at your outburst. "YES WAY! I KNOW ITS CRAZY!" Chris matches your energy, noticing the look on your face. The few people who were staring turned back to their own conversations, not paying attention to the two of you anymore. You gave Chris a grateful smiling, silently thanking him. He reached across the table, lacing his hand with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Bf!Chris who loves when you play with his hair.

It was a quiet night, Chris was laying on top of your thighs answering emails on his laptop. You were above him with both your hands on his scalp, gently massaging it. You got a text notification from your phone beside you. One of your hands left his hair to pick up your phone, an instant groan came out of Chris's mouth "nooo put it back" he whined as he reached behind him to try to get to your hand. "just a second geez" You laughed, quickly replying to the text you just received. You put your phone down, your hands going back to their original position on Chris's head making him let out a content sigh.

Bf!Chris who matches his nails with yours.

You both walked out of the nail salon with a fresh new set of nails. You're practically skipping to your car overjoyed that you managed to make your boyfriend agree to match with you. Chris let out a soft laugh, watching you so giddy. If he knew how happy matching nails would make you he would've done it years ago.

Bf!Chris who goes pretends to give you back shots when you bend over.

BEEP BEEP BEEP the oven rang signaling that the cupcakes were ready. You walked over to the kitchen, putting on your oven mitts and opened the oven door, the smell of the sweet treats filling the air. Bending down, you grabbed the cupcake tray from inside the warm oven and were about to place it on the counter when you felt a pair of hands on your hips keeping you in place. "Boom! Boom! Boom!" Chris slightly pushed into you, a scowl appeared across your face. Chris let go, allowing you to take the cupcakes out and placing them on the island. "Chris! You could've made me fall! My face would've burned off!" Chris scoffed at your dramatics "Sorry miss lady you just looked too good!" Chris protested his gaze now averted towards the cupcakes "ooh can I help you frost them? please?" You rolled your eyes unamused, handing him a piping bag which he excitedly took from your hands.

NSFW

Bf!Chris who always talks you through sex

"You're doin' so good f'me" Chris says from above you, his hips thrusting into you. One hand is on your waist, the other is pining your wrists above your head making sure you wont escape. "you're so pretty ma." Your moans and his words collide, his thrusts move even faster hearing the sweet sounds that escape your lips. "I love it when.. fuck- when you make those pretty sounds ma." "m'close.." your back arches as the familiar knot builds in your stomach "yeah? is my pretty girl gonna cum?" You could only respond with a whine. "please Chris.. c-can't hold it." Chris smirks down at you loving the way you melt at his touch. "Go on baby, make a mess on my cock f'me." A ring of white coated his dick, Chris looks down groaning at the sight his own release following after. He leans down, his lips attaching onto yours. "you're so pretty.. the prettiest girl ever"

Bf!Chris who tries to be soft and gentle but always ends up being rough near the end.

"Wait Chris sl-slow down" Your face was squished against a pillow with your ass in the air. At first his thrusts were slow and gentle but he couldn't hold it in anymore, Chris's hands gripped onto your hips leaving behind purple bruises and his thrusts gained speed. "s-sorry so so sorry" He apologized not slowing down "you're just so fuckin' pretty.. can't help It around you ma"

Bf!Chris who loves your tits, always staring, touching, sucking etc!

Chris's hands were kneading your breasts as you rode him. The sight of your tits bouncing on top of him made him go wild. His mouth latched on to one of your nipples, his thumb and pointer finger pinching the other. Your eyes rolled back at the immense pleasure that was being brought to you, your jaw went slack. "look at you.. that feel good ma?" Chris mumbled into your tits. The harder that Chris sucked the closer you felt, your mind was going numb. Your bounces growing slower and weak. Chris took notice, his fingers sliding down to your clit rubbing it with speed and pressure. All of your limbs gave out. You gripped the headboard of the bed for support, your tits dangling in front of your boyfriends face. He didn't mind at all, in fact he was basking in the wonderful view above him.

Bf!Chris who eats you out like there's no tomorrow.

Your moans echoed throughout the room, Chris's head between your thighs lapping his tongue around your dripping cunt. You were beyond overstimulated, your whole body shaking after reaching its 4th orgasm. "Chris pl-ease n-no more" You mewled, Your fingers tugged at his hair trying to pull him off you. Chris moans at your actions, tightening his grip on your thighs. His voice sends vibrations all around your body. "you taste so good ma.. s'all f'me.. all mine" he coos continuing to devour you like your his last meal.

Bf!Chris who makes sure to shower you with affection after sex, making sure you know that you are loved and cared for.

There was a comforting silence in the room, the only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of your soft pants. Chris shuffled beside you, his eyes watched your fucked out expression. He watched as your bare chest moved up and down with your breaths, he couldn't help but think how pretty you looked like this. He could stare at you forever if you'd let him. He reached for the drawer by his bed and got out a small cloth, his hands gripped the fabric and moved above you. He gently wiped your sensitive cunt, making sure every drop was cleaned up. The rag made contact with your clit, your thighs quickly shut around his hand, eliciting a whine from you. "shh its okay I know, it'll be quick I promise." Once he was done he laid back down next to you, his arms wrapped around your lower stomach bringing you closer to him. "you're so beautiful" "I love you so much" "I wanna marry you one day" Chris whispered sweet nothings into your ear, watching you slowly drift to sleep. His head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent never wanting this feeling to end.

[honnelander]

go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 

Sanji. Ugh.  

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 

You were hopeless. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 

“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 

Did Sanji just say he loved you? 

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 

You sighed.  

Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 

[tojikai]

Sundered 5: QUARRELS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, explicit smut, arguments, implied noncon

word count: 6.8k

This is close enough for a beggar like him.

“When Yui turns three…” Satoru turns to look at you with a small smile and a look in his eyes that you know too well not to understand at a glance. “When Yui turns three?” You urged him to continue, “...we make another one. Hopefully, a baby boy.” He pulled you on top of him as you laughed fondly.

“I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you said that already.” You giggled, kissing his blushing face. “I can’t have you forgetting. It’s a must. We make cute babies.” He spoke each sentence in between pecks. “ Yeah, but she’s only 5 months old, Satoru.” You put your head on his chest, feeling him caress your hair.

“I know, but I wanna tell you in advance.” Moments like this make you forget about all the problems and fights that you have with him. “But we’re gonna get married first, of course.” You looked up at him, watching his eyes glimmer. “You’re asking me to marry you?” You poked his side.

“Of course, what else am I gonna do with you?” He flips you over, kissing your neck and chest before attempting to pull the straps of your nighties down your shoulders. “This is for your daughter, don’t even try.” You pointed a finger at his nose as he pouted, “She’s asleep. Can’t I get a sip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you giggle.

“What is going on with you?” He kissed your lips, joining you in your joy. Just two days ago, you and Satoru were screaming at each other’s faces because of how he got angry at you for talking back to his mother. She came into his house, trying to fight you because you got Yui’s ears pierced. You and Satoru agreed on it, but he didn’t like that you ‘talked back’ to his mom.

And now, it’s all gone. Washed away by his touches. Drowned away by his kisses and moans. “Remember when we did this while you were pregnant?” You could hear his smirk as he nibbled on your skin. You're now lying sideways with your hand holding one of your legs up. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower stomach.

“Gonna put another one here in a few years.” He grunted when you reached for his hair, pressing him closer to you. “Satoru…” His breath on the shell of your ear only made you heat up more. You sobbed as his thrust got faster and harder. “Yeah, you want that.” He bit your ear lightly as you arched your back, whimpering.

You were just about to tell him that you’re close but Satoru got your body memorized. His hand was already trailing down to your womanhood, fingers rubbing on your nub as he coaxed you to your climax and followed shortly after. He finished inside you with your name flowing smoothly out of his lips. You stayed in the same position; with him still inside you as he pushed your legs together.

It was only one of those nights that made you believe that you’d be together until the end.

“...a new one?” Satoru’s voice snapped you back to reality. “Hm?” You turned to him, seeing that he was already staring at you. Yesterday, you and Toji fought. And today, you did again. Is the honeymoon phase they were saying already over? You gritted your teeth. “Are you still thinking about it?” Satoru’s voice was laced with concern as he drove.

Yesterday afternoon, you and Toji were talking about how much louder it gets when there are more kids around. Other than Yuuji, a little girl from their neighborhood named Nobara also joined—a name Yui cannot pronounce correctly but kept saying anyway. 

With four children running around the house, you and Toji could only communicate with eyes, teasing like a married couple planning for an addition. You two could only joke around the topic, though, knowing how serious and how big a responsibility it will be. 

Besides, your relationship is still young and you would like to get married first before taking a step like that. But marriage still feels pretty far for you and Toji.  

“Look, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.” Satoru tried to comfort you. “His wife used to do that stuff and now he’s just sharing it with you.” He explained. You can’t help but feel like you were being petty. The kids had a playdate and you thought that making a bit of juice for their picnic would give them a better experience.

Toji started randomly talking about how his wife had little cousins and she refused to give them juice until they were 5 because it’s terrible for toddlers’ health. And though, you understand this, the way he said it just put you off. You felt like he was comparing you to her and you just didn’t like the way it made you feel. 

Before, there were times when he would mindlessly say that his wife introduced something to him or taught him to do something and you would think that he was probably just reminiscing. But now you just felt…sensitive. It just felt like you still had to compete even if there was no one to compete with.

“He’s probably just suggesting.” Satoru tried to explain for Toji, something you didn’t think would ever happen because they’re almost always wordless around one another. “Suggesting what? That I should do what his first wife did? And today he got upset that Yui and I would leave early to go with you.” Satoru sighed, nodding slowly.

Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more calm, more patient, and more careful with everything he does. “We should’ve canceled and moved it another day.” You looked at him, disbelief flashing on your face.

“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend now. It’s not good to leave a fight without talking first, even just for reassurance.” Whatever he’s been learning at counseling is definitely working, you thought. When he first told you about it, you didn't know how to react. Probably because you know that the cause of your problems is not just him. But also his mother.

“I told him we’ll talk later. He just doesn’t like that we have to spend time around each other like this.” Your voice was quieter. To be honest, you don’t know how to deal with that because it concerns your daughter too. “We can…we can just reduce times like this to milestones like birthdays and school events when she’s finally in school,” Satoru spoke, clearing his throat.

“I don’t think it’s that important anyway, Yui will understand that we’re separated soon. She’s growing fast.” You glanced at your daughter as she waves at the passing cars. Satoru’s right. “Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll talk to him about it.” Satoru probably doesn’t want it like that, but nowadays, he’s been…different. In a good way.

“By the way, I have a…my previous car. Do you remember? The one before this.” He asked, “Your car always breaks down. I mean…You can have it. So, you won’t have to take a cab when you take Yui to daycare, go to work, or pick her up from my place.” You can tell that he was nervous to ask you about it.

“Actually, if you want. I can ask Toji, so he won’t think of it as anything.” You looked away, thinking. You’re not the only one who has a significant other here; Naomi might think of it as something too. “You have to tell Naomi too.” You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. 

Silence enveloped the three of you for several minutes until Satoru spoke again. “My counselor said it’s easy to mistake comfort for love.” Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. “You can learn to love people and things.” There was a long pause along as you reached his house.  You checked on Yui to find out that she fell asleep.

“That sounds like resignation, Y/N. Love doesn’t need conditions.”  He mumbled, looking at his lap. “Let’s go, she’s getting uncomfortable.” You took Yui’s things before following him inside his house. “Don’t forget her vitamins, Satoru.” Humming, he opened the door for you with your sleeping daughter in his arms. 

To his surprise, the lights were on and there, his mother and Naomi sat on his couch.

“You took so long. Did you forget about your girlfriend?” His mother was the first to speak. “Why are you here, Mom? You’re early, Naomi.” Naomi glanced at you with a look on her face that you can’t quite read. There’s nothing sinister about it, in fact, she looked nervous.

“She’s early because she won’t be working full days anymore.” You stood there awkwardly, feeling invisible before Satoru took a step closer to you, “Since she’ll be a part of the family soon, I asked your father if he can take it easy on her workload. Lovers should spend time with each other as much as they can.” His mother continues, emphasizing the word ‘family’ as she gave a mocking glance your way.

She never once considered you as one. Not that you want to be related in any way to someone like her. You scoffed inside your head, seeing Satoru glance at you. “We do spend enough time together.” He spoke, “And why are you deciding for her, Mom?” He took the bags in your hand, “Let’s go to Yui's room.” 

“It’s okay, I won’t be staying for long anyway, I just wanted to drop her off.” After taking Yui to an inflatable indoor park, Satoru bought her a Hello Kitty cake just as you were about to go home. The kid was excited to open the cake with you, but you were reluctant because you don’t really want to be around Naomi. After being assured by Satoru that Naomi wasn’t supposed to come over until Friday, you finally agreed.

You should’ve trusted your gut, because here she is with Satoru’s mom, like a cherry on top.

“I’ll take you home, let’s just put her to bed, then we’ll go.” The child stirred in her sleep, adjusting her head on his shoulder, “Mama, cake.” She murmured, probably dreaming about her food. You looked at Satoru, catching him already staring at you and something tells you it’s gonna be alright even with these two people who seemingly want you out of your own daughter’s life.

“We’ll talk later,” Satoru spoke to them, gently nudging you toward your daughter’s room. “There’s literally nothing to talk about, son. We just wanted to make the two of you more free for each other. Can’t have others hogging all of your attention from your lover. She won’t appreciate that. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You paused, glancing at Satoru.

“With your new boyfriend, doesn’t it irritate you when he uses his time for other things?” You can tell that his mother is trying to elicit a reaction from you. “The only thing my boyfriend does other than work is take care of his son.  And I will never put myself in between them.” Before his mother could even say anything, Satoru quickly took the stage.

“I said later, Mom. Naomi and I will talk. It’s our relationship.” With that, he walked with you into Yui’s room, closing the door behind him, careful not to wake his daughter up. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think they’d be here.” You took Yui’s shoes and jacket off, before letting Satoru put her down. “I know, it’s okay.” Kissing Yui’s forehead, you could hear him whisper curse words.

“Hey.” You can tell he’s more than upset. This is probably more painful and exhausting to him than you thought. “I don’t know anymore, Y/N.” He turned away from you, running his hand over his face, “This. This is what’s making my life harder.” He gestured towards the door, referring to his mother. “This is what made our life harder.” You caught him saying as he shook his head.

“Just talk to them. Maybe there's a reason for this. She’s just naturally hostile with me.” You shrugged, knowing that he was speaking the truth. “That’s the point. She’s pointlessly hostile and she thinks she can decide for me.” Turning to you, there was redness in his eyes. 

Satoru didn’t want to seem like he was asking you for comfort. He refused to give you that before, he’d be shameless if he wanted you to hold him. “Let’s go. I’ll explain to Yui, we’ll call you later.” Blinking hard before opening the door, Satoru knows better than to allow his mother near you. You never told him but he knows that she slapped you when she came to your house.

They fought about it when he went to their mansion. Thankfully, his father backed him up with a speech about protective orders which shut her down. It pained him to be like that to his mom but he can’t just have her abusing you just because she can. 

Satoru walked beside you, covering you from his mother. “Satoru…” Naomi called out but his mother quickly spoke, “Doesn’t she have a car? Did it break down again? Ah, like before, when she wanted someone to take her home.” There was no hint of amusement in Naomi’s eyes, probably clueless as to what she was talking about. 

“I’m calling Dad to pick you up.” With that, he continued walking, leaving his mother with an angry look on her face. “That’d be good. He will be here to discuss things since he’s her boss. He might even give her a vacation. You and Naomi can go out of the country. Get close, plan things like marriage, children—” Stopping in his tracks, Satoru turned with his jaws clenched. 

“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t leave my daughter here. After all, you threatened to take her away.” Walking back to Yui’s room, Satoru didn’t think twice as he grabbed your hand, making Naomi tense up. “Can she stay with you tonight? I’ll get her tomorrow.” He murmured, breathing hard as he picked his daughter up again.

“You think I’ll kidnap my own granddaughter, look what she’s making you think.” You can hear his mom as you rush to take Yui’s things. Whining, Yui covered her ears as Satoru walked her out of the room with you beside him. “I don’t need to kidnap Yui to get her away, her own mother isn’t even capable, what makes you think—” Satoru cut her off when he stood in front of her.

“I’m filing a restraining order.” He spoke, voice low as he tried to stay respectful despite what he was saying, “Against you.” His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Come on.” Ushering you out, and leaving his mother stunned. Opening the door for you, he then proceeded to fix his daughter in her car seat.

“Mama why?” You shushed her, caressing her hair, “We’ll eat cake at home.” You smiled at her, trying your best not to sound panicked before closing the door to finally get in the car. Satoru was about to get in the driver’s seat but Naomi came out of the house and ran to him. Glancing at you, she held his hand, “We’ll talk about it later.” He told her, checking if his mother followed. 

“Can’t you just…” Naomi was about to say something but held back, grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss his lips. You almost immediately looked away, seeing from your peripheral vision how she put Satoru’s arms around her waist. “Come home quick.” She whispered not so quietly at him. Getting in the car, you wondered if his mom told her about it.

“Naomi…” Satoru sighed, pulling away before looking at you with a concerned look in his eyes as he nodded away at her words. Leaving her, Satoru entered the car and started it. She stood there with a mixed look on her face that screams how irritated and upset she is with the events. 

“You don’t have to file a restraining order against her. She’s still your mother.” You didn’t have to say that but you felt like you’re the reason why there’s a gap between them now. “She’s not good for Yui. I can’t have her around speaking about you like that in front of her.” He was breathing hard. “Can you calm down? You’re driving.” 

“Sorry.” He muttered, before taking a deep breath. “I hope she won’t be there when I come back. I can deal with it on my own, whatever Naomi and I have to talk about.” He ranted, “I wish she didn’t intervene so much in everything I do. I feel like the decisions I made aren’t even mine.” He rarely talked like this back then. Actually, you rarely interacted like this back then.

“How’s…” Hesitating, he swallowed before continuing his question, “How’s Toji’s family to you?” He asked softly as if the information he’ll get can break him even more. It probably would. “He’s not that close to them, so they don’t really know much about us. I’ve met them twice when we picked up Megumi. They treat us kindly.” You glanced at him, seeing him purse his lips.

“That’s good for you. You won’t have to deal with something like this.” Satoru wanted to say that he’ll cut ties with his mother to protect you; to be with you. But knowing you, you’ll probably feel like it’s your fault and he doesn’t want that.

He’s aware that his mother influenced the decisions he made in the past. Talking to someone about it made him realize how wrong he approached things with you and how easily he let himself be swayed by the instant gratification that he felt when he gave up on your relationship. 

None of it was worth it. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Three Days Ago

“I can’t do that,” Naomi spoke as she tried to lean away from Satoru’s mom. They met at a cafe near her neighborhood. She was supposed to ask for advice, but it quickly turned into plotting how to lock Satoru to her. “Listen, Y/N was able to keep Satoru with her because they have a child together.” She tapped a sharp nail on the table.

Naomi would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about using that to get more of his time. She admit that she thought of a way to make him have a kid with her, even trying to lie about her safe day to make him do it inside her. She didn’t think that hearing it come from someone else can sound so sick and twisted.

If Satoru doesn’t want the kid, what’s going to happen to me; to us?

“Why are you worried? I’ve been in the same situation and I’m telling you, Satoru kept his father for me.” Naomi’s eyebrows bumped together as she thought of how easy it was for her to say something like that. “You did that to his father?” She asked in disbelief, wanting nothing but to go but desperate enough to stay.

“Not intentionally. But had I not told him, his ex-wife wouldn’t have left us alone and he wouldn’t have stopped running after her.” She took a sip of her coffee, making her seem so chill with her story. Naomi knows all of it for Satoru once told her. She just thought that his mother really baby-trapped his dad to make him stay.

Can Naomi really do that?

“You won’t baby trap my son, you just let him come to you. Attract him like you did back then.” She nodded at Naomi. “I just wanted to help him, then. I didn’t try to seduce him.” She defended herself, “But you did drink with him a few times? Tell me you didn’t get seductive with him during those nights.” She dared, and Naomi looked down.

She remembers telling him how she liked his eyes and how he was too hot to bury himself in problems. She also remembers nonchalantly telling him how he caught her eye when she first saw him. She knows that she liked to think of him and Yui as her own little family even before they started dating and she remembers promising him that they can make it work.

Was Naomi really being just a friend to him then? Or was she already falling for him when she tried to become what he needs during those times?

“Y/N was confident that she’ll get Satoru back and that’s why she let her guard down. Now, if you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” She shook her head, and the words easily got Naomi thinking twice. She’s not trying to be like you. She’s better than you. 

She’s better for him than you.

“Why do you hate her so much?” Naomi suddenly asked, thinking out loud as she carefully thought about her decision. I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me.” If she’s going to think about it, other than the misunderstandings— which were probably caused by something offensive she did or said—you’re never antagonistic towards her.

“She ruined my son’s life. I shouldn’t have expected anything knowing how she got him, but she even had the nerve to try and make him do all the work. She’s probably just after the money..” No matter how hard she tried to recall, Naomi can’t remember him sighing over having Yui with you. “And you think she didn’t really do anything to you? You’re a bit naive.” Naomi’s forehead puckered at her statement.

“Didn’t you notice how she got a new man only now when it started looking like Satoru’s sure about you?” His mother might just be overthinking things but it didn’t help that the changes in her and Satoru’s relationship were almost perfectly timed with you getting a boyfriend. But what if it’s just Satoru? It could’ve been a coincidence, right?

Realizing how she was trying to convince herself in her mind, Naomi only felt worse. Maybe she really has to do something. After all, she swore to him that they can make it work. She’s not someone to just back down and give up on the one she loves when things get tough.

She’s better than you, and unlike you, she won’t run away; she’ll fight for their relationship. 

—------------------------------------------

Arriving home, Yui was already wide awake. “...then, Dad will be back to buy a new cake with Yui! How’s that?” Satoru kissed her cheek as he put her down on the couch. The little girl got upset that her dad has to go so soon. She just stood there wordlessly, leaning on the couch as she refused to look at Satoru.

“It’s okay, I’ll talk to her. She’s just grumpy because her nap was disturbed.” Walking towards the little girl, you sat down and put her on your lap. “Say bye, now.” You pushed the stray hairs away from her face and Satoru can’t help but admire how much he missed just seeing the two of you waiting for him on his couch.

Yui was younger then; much smaller in your arms. And he felt like a real husband coming home to his wife and child when you’d be there, watching TV when he got home from work. It’s been more than a year now, he just thinks he’s lucky enough to still be close to you again. 

You’re not as close as he wants you to be but this is more than enough for a beggar like him.

Leaning down to give your daughter a kiss, she turned away from him. “Yui, that’s not nice.” Her mouth was quivering but you know her too well. “You better go, they’re waiting for you there.” You looked at him but he only stared at you, sighing deeply. You felt like it was the hundredth time today. 

He looked so worn out; like he was just ready to drop as soon as he gets these things out of his tail. You wondered if you looked like this to him back then, too. Probably not this bad because you don’t have a meddlesome mother who keeps trying to put her finger in the pie. 

Before Satoru could answer, a knock on the door was heard. The door opened and a little boy holding his sippy cup stood by the doorway. Toji held the doorknob, staring at you and Satoru. What time is it? You thought. You remembered telling him that you’d be back by 4 in the afternoon. Yui was quick to jump from your lap.

“Dada! ‘Gumi! Dada! ‘Gumi!” She squealed at them and you could feel Satoru tense up beside you. She had been told by Toji about it, but hearing it from her friend isn’t helping at all. Megumi looked up at Satoru before looking at Yui. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s my name?” Toji bent down to pick her up when she kept stomping her feet and reaching up at him.

“Dada!” She laughed, before pointing at Megumi who was now taking his little bag from his father’s hand. “You’ll play later. Listen, tell your Dada what my name is.” Toji repeated just as Satoru regained his composure. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, “She probably thought you’re her Dada because you take care of her. And her mom.” You wanted to stop him, feeling bad that he had to pretend that he's cool about this.

Yui’s first word was ‘Dada’ and you could still remember how happy he was when he got her to say it before ‘Mama’. You can’t stand the thought of that memory becoming painful for him. “I gotta go, I’ll just pick her up again tomorrow.” He whispered to you, before nodding to Toji. “Bye, love. See you, tomorrow.” He waved at Yui, faking a smile before rushing to leave.

Yui waved back at him before wiggling out of Toji’s arms. She rushed to get her toys when he put her down. “She’s…she’s a kid” Biting your lip, you breathed out through your nose before walking to Toji and putting your arms around him. “Don’t run.” He called out to the children as giggled their way to Yui’s room. “I feel bad. I’m gonna talk to him later.” You mumbled.

Toji kissed your forehead before you pulled him to your room. “What’s going on?” He asked you, sitting on the bed. “Are you worried?” You asked, straddling him. “I am.” He answered, ignoring your actions. You looked up at him with a frown, remembering the misunderstanding that you had. “Why was he here?” 

“Look, he just had to drop me and Yui off because his mother was in his house—” He cut you off, leaning away a bit from you. You know that you didn’t tell him that you were going to Satoru’s house with Yui because you were still upset about your argument the other day and earlier this morning. 

“You told me the time but you can’t tell me where you were going?” Perplexity was clear on his face, “I didn’t want to agitate you further. I wouldn’t tell you right now if there’s another reason why I’m there except for Yui.” You tried to explain, feeling him put you beside him on the bed. “Y/N, that’s not the point.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Then, what is? I wasn’t planning to stay for long.” You kicked off your shoes, before turning to him. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just thought you were mad because of earlier.” You hugged his arm, putting your forehead on his shoulder. “And I was still upset.” Kicking his own shoes off, Toji pulled you on top of him as he leaned back on the headboard

“You have to tell me why you’re upset. It can’t be just the orange juice.” He spoke, grabbing your face as he kissed you. You moaned, breathing into him as you opened your mouth, letting his tongue find yours. His grunts sent vibrations to your core as you press yourself against him. 

“Did you lock the door?” He murmured, taking off your cardigan before putting his hands on your buttocks. “Yeah, don’t worry.” You quickly took off your shirt before going back to kissing him, completely forgetting about what he was asking from you. 

“As long as we can hear the laughs, they’re fine.” He chuckled, unclasping your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. “Oh…” You moaned rubbing on his shoulders and tugging at the fabric of his sweater. His other fingers tweaked at your bud as he stared up at you, lustful eyes taking away your worries.

You really just don’t want to tell him that the mention of his wife is starting to trigger you.

Taking off the clothing, he flipped you on your back, removing your belt and jeans. His lips trailed kisses on your thighs as he go, massaging your calves before parting your legs, making you inhale sharply. “We can’t drag this long. Come here.” You giggled, ushering him to hover over you. “You know how they are…” You moaned when he started to kiss your neck.

His tongue and teeth bring pleasure and a bit of sting on your skin. “You just want it that much.” Winking at you, he discarded his remaining clothes before hovering over your womanhood. He smirked as he slid your underwear down, kissing your pearl. “Toji…” You whined, worried that this might get cut short if he doesn’t hurry.

“Alright, alright. I can’t just stick in. Let’s see…” Spreading your lips with two fingers, he eyed your heat with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly ajar, you can’t help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for friction. Your eyes shut close when he put a finger in, slowly at first, before speeding up when he added a second one.

Toji panted, stroking his member when he felt you squeeze his digits. You’re dripping and he’s starting to ache. “Fuck.” He muttered as he leaned over to go for your lips, kissing you hard. He growled in your mouth when you whimpered as he rubbed on your pearl while massaging the sensitive spot inside you.

Pulling away when your legs started to tremble, Toji hissed as he tapped his head on the bundle of nerves before rubbing his length on your wet folds to lube himself up. “Toji, please.” You cupped your mounds, looking up at him. Seeing you like this drove him crazy, he had to hold back from just slamming himself into you. 

Grabbing a pillow and putting it under your hips, Toji prodded your entrance with his tip. He opened your legs wider, taking in the sight of you being stretched and his shaft disappearing slowly until he was fully in. Leaning on the bed with one hand, he grabbed your jaw with the other and silenced your moans with his kisses.

“You can’t let them hear you.” He murmured as he clenches his jaw, pressing his nose on your cheeks and kissing it. He was moving steadily inside of you and whispering words of praises to your ear, “You take me so well now.” He teased you, groaning whenever your hole fluttered around him.

You gasped when Toji pushes your legs to your chest, pounding deeper into you as he sings your name like you do to his. His thrusts were unrelenting, merciless as he slams himself into you. Soon enough, your walls were starting to convulse and your nails were clawing on his arm. 

“Come on. Let it go, hon.” You closed your eyes, feeling your chest throb at the nickname he used but the surges of pleasure that took over your senses flooded it out. Your hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling back as you writhed underneath him, coming undone with a cry of delight escaping your lips.

Your thighs trembled under his touch as he continued to rut into you, desperate for his high. “Oh fuck…Oh, Y/N.” Feeling your walls spasm and contract around him, he hurriedly pulled out and spilled his load on your womanhood. A sight to see, he thought as he watched your thighs still shaking from the pleasure.

“Wait a minute," Reaching over to your cabinet, Toji took the box of tissues before wiping you and himself clean. Hearing the jolly screams from the other room made you both laugh to yourself. "That's too quick. We gotta continue this later." He winked, throwing the tissues away before getting on the bed with you.

"Definitely." You let out a tired laugh as you put your head on his shoulder, sighing as the heavy feeling settled on top of your chest. Why did you have to remember him just from that word alone? Toji tilted your head up for a passionate kiss, blurring away the image of your ex inside your head.

“I have a request, though.” You looked down, avoiding his curious gaze. “Can you….can we not use ‘hon’?” You don’t know how weirdly you phrased the question until you looked at Toji to see him looking puzzled. “I mean…this is the first time you called me that and I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. “

“Yeah, alright. But why?” Maybe you should’ve thought this through. You know Toji’s been getting moody whenever you two talk about anything concerning Satoru. You can’t really blame him after what happened that night. “I just… don’t feel it.” You lied, shrugging. “It’s not that bad, though. I could get used to it.” You smiled up at him, pecking his lips.

“Alright, I think I know.” He exhaled harshly, standing up from the bed to grab your clothes. Great. You just ruined the moment. “Are you mad?” You sat up, watching him get dressed. “No, I just wanna check on the kids.” He is mad. You clicked your tongue, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I just don’t want to–“ 

“Y/N. I said alright. I can’t do anything about it, anyway.” That doesn’t fix anything. “A lot of people use that, I just don’t get why you keep getting affected.” You stared at him, baffled. “It’s not like I want to do that. I can’t help my mind, there was a memory attached to that word.” 

You stood up to get a robe, “You know that it’s not easy for me, too. I told you.” You uttered, watching his back through your vanity mirror as he stood still. “Maybe if you stop relating everything to him, then it won’t be so hard.” With that, he left the room and you don’t know if you’re hurt or just shocked that he would say something like that to you.

Because he does that to you too. And you thought that he, of all people, should understand where you’re coming from. 

—————————————-

Satoru slid the door open with force, seeing Naomi flinch as she was startled by the sound. “Where’s mom?” He asked, breathing hard and eager to just put an end to the craziness she was doing. “I convinced her that we’ll be fine.” She walked to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck. 

“We just need to catch up on each other, I feel like we’ve been too occupied these days.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin as she rubbed his nape with a soft, delicate hand. “Yeah, we got a lot to talk about.” Satoru put a hand on the small of her back. “But first, you gotta tell me what that was about.”

“I just invited her over. I didn’t know Y/N would be here, sorry.” She sighed, before dragging him to the couch. Satoru kept thinking about the scene before he left your house. That was just a lot to take in, especially when he just fought with his mother. “I got no work tomorrow, we can stay up all night.” She giggled, taking off her cardigan.

“Let’s have a couple of drinks during dinner. I’ll cook for you.” She proposed, walking to the kitchen. Checking his phone, he found himself expecting a text from you. None. You don’t give a fuck about him. He sighed, It’s okay. As long as I can see themi, he thought. He just hoped that you’d ask how things went in his house. Or if he’s hurt about ‘Dada’ Toji. All the things he shouldn’t expect.

Guess, I’ll fucking die of jealousy, then. He clenched his teeth proceeding to his bedroom. “I’ll wash up.” He spoke to Naomi, “Go on, baby. I’ll be making dinner.” She answered, glancing his way. If she’s going to be honest, she wanted to skip the talks. The truth is Naomi’s afraid of what he’ll say if she confronts him with her real thoughts.

She could easily skip those steps, and get to her goal.

Goal? Naomi’s movements halt as she realized how she sounded. She’s not a bad person, she thought. Is she really gonna do this? “If you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” Naomi’s breath hitched when his mother’s words reverberated in her head.

She can’t lose him. Not now when they’re almost settling down. She’s not being a monster, she’s not baiting him. He’ll come to her on his own like he did before. She’s just going to make him see that she’s good for him. 

Dinner time came and she prepared it more than ordinary, hoping to ignite a light in him. It’s not usual for a woman to start something like this but Naomi’s different. As she said, she’ll fight for him. “Wow, is this a date?” Satoru chuckled sitting down in front of her seat. “I just wanted to rekindle. Your mom’s right, we’re just drifting away. I can’t stand that happening.”

Walking to her chair, Naomi stopped by him and kissed his cheek. Satoru on the other hand, can’t help but feel bad. He’s sure that nothing will change even if they do this. “Try. She’s a good person.” He quickly downed a drink, letting it take your voice away. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you, but because he’s not sure if he can do it. 

The dinner went by quickly, and they were just discussing over drinks. He can’t even count how many he downed when she started talking about how you look more plump. “They might beat us in giving Yui a sibling.” She joked, laughing because she didn’t know what was in his head. “I doubt it, she wanna get married first.” He replied monotonously before opening up about his counseling sessions.

“Counselling?” She asked. The topic is incredibly close to what Satoru’s about to confess. She stared at her wide eyes as he nodded. “Were you having problems? Baby, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.” Her concern was sincere and it made him feel like a villain. “I wanted to be better for Yui.” And for Y/N. 

Clueless, she gave him a fond stare. “You’re a great father. Y/N knows that.”  There were times during the dinner when Satoru was so close to spitting out the truth to her but the effort she put in just to make that food on the table makes him feel remorseful. 

Satoru knows that it’s not right. But just for tonight, after all the months that he made him feel tranquil, he can spare her heart for a night or two. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to break her heart. But staying would only mean that she’s never going to get what she wants and deserves.

“I’ll be brushing my teeth then, get to bed. The drink got to me.” He laughed, holding the chair as he stood up. “Thank you so much. For everything.” She came to hug him, kissing his lips as she murmured words of adoration to him. “Go ahead, you’re all red, can you walk?” She joked, before pushing him to go, “I’ll be with you in a few. I feel really sleepy now, too.” 

It’s been almost half an hour. Naomi checked on Satoru to find him sleeping soundly already. Not even her slam of the door woke him up. She stared at herself in the mirror, “I’m really gonna do this.” She exhaled, closing her eyes before going walking out of the bathroom. He’s still in the same position as before. 

Stepping closer, Naomi removed her silk robe, revealing her night dress. She clenched her fist tightly, before quickly releasing it just to try and get rid of the tension in her body. She sat on the bed, touching his chest and abs. Hearing him moan when she got to his lower part calmed her slightly. Just like we always do, she repeated in her head, kissing his skin.

“I’m sorry, Satoru…” She whispered one last time.

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[aakeysmash]

college!sukuna would have you as a sugar baby: exam season edition

college!sukuna masterlist

“You know what, I should just drop out,” you ramble, pacing in your living room, hair disheveled and a pencil behind your ear.

Sukuna just hums, sitting on the sofa while munching on chickpea chips he bought the other day saying that “protein is protein”.

“Or or or… I should find a rich man! Yeah, I should be a sugar baby,” you continue, and he just nods, mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels.

“At least I would be happy with my ass on a yacht. Hey, do you think I have sugar baby material?” You ask him, stopping for a second, thinking. All you get as an answer is a grunt. “Sukuna? Are you even listening to me?” You wave your hand in front of the tv. That catches his attention, but only for a mere quarter of a second.

“What?”

You sigh, exasperated. “Why am I even talking to you?”

“Do a spin,” he says, lowly, still not sparing you a glance, putting a bunch of chips in his mouth. You’re so out of your mind that you actually do, and when you turn around his eyes are on you for the first time since you started talking 30 minutes ago. 30 minutes of straight whines. He’s giving you a once over, gaze fixed over how your oversized sweater is falling from your left shoulder, letting him see the top of your boob. He imagines himself sucking exactly on that spot, your breath by his ear, his mark on your-

“Yeah, I’d pay for you,” he says nonchalantly, getting back to zapping.

“You would?” You say excitedly. “Wait. You would?” You add after a moment, taken aback, your face falling progressively. You whine again. “I’m never going to be a sugar baby,” you finish, sprawling out on the carpet near the sofa he’s sitting on, closing your eyes.

“Yo, I have taste, the fuck you mean?” He replies roughly, looking down at you and slightly kicking you in the ribs. Just enough to barely move you from your star-like pose. You open your eyes, looking up at his four ones, assuming a mocking face.

“Now do you?” You say, doubtful, rolling on your side before sitting up while he’s flipping you off. You’re face to face with his knees. Yeah, knees. Keep it PG.

He gets his elbows on said knees, putting his index finger under your chin to raise your face. “Yeah baby, I’d keep you as my prettiest whore if I had like 50 years more than I do,” he says. Then he immediately adds “But I don’t, so stop fucking complaining and let me watch my damn tv. It’s fucking Saturday, give me a break,” flicking your forehead and blowing on your face at the same time. He tastes like real chickpeas and you’re almost impressed by how the pack of chips didn’t lie about the ingredients. He sprawls back on the sofa, occupying as much space as he can by laying down on his side with one of his hands under his chin, returning to his chickpea chips with the other. You scrunch your face, then pout.

“Then what am I supposed to do? I can’t take 5 exams in a week,” you whine, getting your forehead on the little 7 inches rectangle that is left naturally near his chest.

“Suck it up, pussy boy,” he answers, bored. You’ve been going at it for what feels like an eternity and he’d already have lost his patience if seeing you miserable didn’t get a snort out of him. You turn your head to face him, hair all in your face from the movement, but you don’t have the strength to put it in a more comfortable position.

“You don’t get it,” you sigh, your features turning even more worried. You stay like that long enough to start dozing off (and seeing how sleep deprived you are lately, that’s about 40 seconds max), hearing him clean his hands. Suddenly, you feel his hand brushing on your cheek lightly, moving your hair behind your ear and away from your face.

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” he tells you gruffly, scratching lightly on the top of your head. You hum. You know he’s right. He knows you know you’re capable of doing it. He gives your head a couple more pats before pushing it a bit.

“Go study and stop bothering me now. This tv ain’t gonna watch itself,” he says calmly.

You get up, nodding. “Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you for some backhanded comfort,” you reply, corners of your mouth turning upwards for the first time since exam season started (literally two days ago. Hey, you’re a smiley person!). He grunts, not looking at you again, and you know that’s all you’re going to get from him.

You get back in your room to study, and suddenly he finds himself losing interest in his chips in 15 minutes, the buzzing sound of the voices from the western movie he’s watching merely a background noise. Was it always so quiet when you weren’t around?

[rustyr3dhe4d]

unexpected - cl16

summary: a few years ago, you found yourself unexpectedly pregnant with your boyfriends baby. upon telling him, he completely disappeared and you hadn't heard from his since. of course you told your best friend, charles. he vowed to help you before and after the birth. fast forward a couple of years, what happens when your child assumes charles is her father.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

flashback: 4 years ago

as the two little lines show up on the little plastic test, you feel your hands begin to shake. this can't be happening, you think to yourself. you're 22 years old, you're not ready for a kid. you haven't even discussed marriage, let alone kids with your boyfriend.

you quietly made your way out of the bathroom with the test in your hand. "baby?" you call out into your apartment. "yeah?" you hear his voice echo from the kitchen.

his back is to you when you enter the kitchen, looking through the fridge. when he turns around, his brows crease when he's met with your red, tear-stained face. "is everything okay?" you just shake your head and slowly raise up the test in your hand.

his creased brows slowly raise as he hones in on the object in your hand. "is it..." he begins but doesn't finish. you nod your head slowly, your eyes not meeting his. he sets the drink he took out of the fridge down on the counter. "say something, please..." the silence was all the answer you need.

he briskly walks past you and to the bedroom. "where are you going?" you ask him but still get no answer. within the next 5 minutes, he's out the door with bags packed. you sit on the edge of bed, eyes full of tears. your hand finds your phone not to far away on the bed and you tap on the contact of the one person you can trust.

"hey amour, what's up?" his voice rings through the phone. you take a shaky breath before continuing. "charles, i need you." you hear some shuffling on the other end before he speaks. "i'll be there soon, hold on amour."

soon after you hang up, you hear your front door open and frantic footsteps moving throughout the apartment. a few seconds later, charles appears in the doorway of your bedroom. "hey..." he squats down in front of your sitting frame. "what's going on?"

your eyes look to the bathroom and his eyes follow. he gets up and moves to the bathroom, you see him freeze when he reaches the counter. he emerges with one of the tests in his hand.

"are these..."

"yes."

"where's-"

"he left. as soon as i told him. bags packed and everything." your eyes stay locked on your feet. he sets the test down on the nightstand closest to him before sitting next to you. he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his chest. "i've got you. i'm here now, and i'm going to be here every step of the way."

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

present day

"alright adeline, are you ready to see cha race today?" you ask. your daughter's smile grows as she holds your hand and you both walk through the paddock.

as you walk through the ferrari motorhome doors, your greeted with many 'hellos' and 'hi's.' you make it to charles' driver room, just as he comes out. at the sight of you and adeline, his face brightens. "addy!"

your daughter lets go of your hand and runs over to the brunette. "cha!' she squeals as he lifts her up, placing her on his hip. you smile at the bond the two share. once she's comfortable on his hip, he turns to you. "hi, belle."

he moves to wrap his free arm around your waist and places a light kiss on your cheek. "cha?" adeline starts.

"yes, papillon?" he turns to the little girl on his hip. "can we go see uncle carlos?"

"of course we can, as long as your mom is okay with it?" he turns to you. you just smile and nod your head. "that's fine with me. just give me one second, i need to use the restroom and then i'll go with you guys." you disappear down the hallway as he sets her down.

"is there anything else you want to do today, addy?" charles asks as he squats down in front of her. adeline just shrugs her shoulders, which causes charles to chuckle. "can we go see uncle carlos now?" she whines.

"just wait for a few more seconds, your mom will be back in a few." you finally come back from the bathroom. "alright now we can go, papillion." he says.

adeline moves to run out of the motorhome but charles stops her. "hold on, your shoes untied addy, come here." she turns around and walks back over to charles. "place your hands on his shoulders so he can tie your shoes." you tell her.

she places her hands on his shoulders as he moves down to tie her shoe. after tightening the knot, he stands up. "all good." she turns around and makes her way to the exit. "thanks daddy!" she calls behind her.

both you and charles freeze. "oh, um..." you stutter out. his face and ears are burning red.

"why don't we-"

"let's just-" both you and charles start at the same time. he gestures for you to walk ahead of him. you nod your head and start walking after your daughter with charles close behind.

this will definitely be a conversation for later.

[martinluvrr]

OUR THING | PAIGE BUECKERS

⋅˚₊‧ paige bueckers x rivals!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: you just can't come between them, they got their own thing.

⋅˚₊‧ duayaps; in honor of 'whore anon'. ( i'm in my gracie abrams era ). enjoy.

⋅˚₊‧ warning: 18+ , smut, degrading terms.

⋅˚₊‧ nav ||

"There is absolutely history there" Diana Taurasi said, you sighed closing your laptop. Another opinion you didn't need. Two days ago was one of the most intense games you've had in your college career.

Number 5 and you weren't exactly buddies with each other, once upon a time you were. In high school, you both were attached to the hip, best friends. At the end of Paige's senior year, you had grown a small crush on her. Of course you didn't dare act on it.

When Paige committed to Uconn, you were so happy for her. This is was just a step closer to her dream, a small part of you knew that her and you would have distanced between each other, but you never knew that that it would end with you and paige having no contact.

It just stopped slowly, she was getting distant and you assumed she was just busy.

But when you faced your first game as a rookie against Uconn, you got a rude awakening of how Paige was going to treat you for the next 4 years. No talking, like literally not even a glance from her. And if she was going to treat you like that, you would return her behavior.

Of course, after that, USC and Uconn had a lot of games after. So it became more intense, more aggressive. While you were guarding her, you got more fouls than you would ever get in normal games. And then she started trash talk, and while you knew she wanted a reaction out of you, you didn’t give her one.

But after one hard hit on the floor, which led you to stepping out of the game, she talked to you normal , for the first time in 2 years.

“You okay?”

“Yeah”

After that short conversation , you started getting confused. She was still the Paige from your freshman year, but now, when you would hit the floor, she was the first one to come to your aid and help you. Even when she was the reason you were down in the first place, she would place her hands on your waist and help you up.

This was weird, one minute you’re trash talking and pushing each other, and the next she was picking you up from the floor.

Of course, everybody wanted an answer. An answer that you didn’t have, and you were sure that Paige didn’t have one either. It was natural for Paige to help you. Almost like a reflex.

Two days ago, you stood on the Uconn court. An army of students chanting behind you, you could feel your nerves getting agitated, this one random guy kid would not stop yelling the most disrespectful things at you, you knew he was a fan in adrenaline but still. It started out small, which you didn’t mind because that just motivated you more, but then it turned south. "you got nothing on us" , "can't even hoop" , "you can't play for shit" , “we’re too good for you” , “get back in the kitchen” .

You ignore him, in hopes that he would leave you alone, but nope. He didn’t, just kept on going. While you finally tuned him out, you turned to your opponent. Paige was glaring daggers at you.

“bunny” She teased. You only returned her cold stare with one of your own. Her nickname was used to mock you, your soft and sensitive demeanor was known through college basketball. After Paige started calling you bunny, everyone did.

The game started, things were going okay, your team was only down by a couple points. Halfway through the game, you didn’t her the annoying voice and let out a breath of relief. That’s before…“Whore” he screamed out.

You let out a frustrated sigh, before taking a few more steps away from him, but while you ignore him. Paige didn’t, and she was pissed.

“What the fuck did you just say?” She stepped out of the court, the referee blew his whistle. Everybody was watching this exchange. But people were also watching you, and you stood there frozen, totally didn't expect this to happen. From the corner of your eye, you saw both teams coming your way, while Kk gripped Paige's elbow trying to get her away from the scene. Paige didn't budge, her angry eyes still laid on the guy.

"I said what the fuck did you just say to her?" She repeated again, the guy stood there, cheeks red by embarrassment, not a word out of him now. You felt yourself move to her, before gently tugging her elbow. She snapped her head to look at you, when she saw your worried face, she turned to the silent guy. "That's what i thought"

You, Paige and Kk returned to the court, you heard Paige behind you mutter "You okay?"

"Yeah" you whispered, nodding your head. After Paige explained the situation to both Geno and the referee, the guy was escorted out, and the game was back on.

Protective Paige was off and rival Paige was on, unfortunately.

☆

The game made headlines. It was all over tik tok before the game was even over, to the point that even Tana and Brooke talked about it. You tried to block out the videos, but they still showed up, it made you even more nervous. While you appreciated Paige sticking up for you, you knew that this was going to be on every press or media that you were going to be involved with.

Speaking of press.

"Paige, we heard a little argument that you had with one of your own fans in regard to a comment they made about your former teammate now rival Y/n, what was the comment ?"

"I'd rather not say, but former teammate or rival doesn't matter nobody deserves that kind of treatment and I just couldn't handle not saying something when i know that's not something that the team or Uconn stands for"

You re-watched that 15 second clip about 7 times before you turned your phone off. You admit , when you re-watched the game on your hotel rooms TV, it was kinda hot to see Paige sticking up for you. But you knew that the same similar treatment, your teammate experienced on your last game against Uconn, while it wasn't that degrading, you knew Paige heard, she was next to her.

So why did she continue to stick up for you? Why push me when you're gonna pick me back up? Why? Why? Why?

And forgot to mention, that people did notice that Paige didn't back off until you told her to. The whole 1 minute and 16 second exchange had been monitored and watched by millions in the span of 2 days.

"Her teammate couldn't get her on the court again until Y/n came and told her to let it go, like literally can't come between them, they have they're own thing, so cute tho biggest shipper of them..." You heard Brooke Schofield explain to her co host.

☆

"This is it" Juju said, removing her seat belt, you did the same. You were still in Storrs due to your flight being delayed so you and your best friend decided to make the most out of it. A bar was your first option,Teds looked cozy ,comfortable and small so you hoped it wasn't filled with people.

It was, Uconn students, to be more specific. When you and Juju first walked in, the first people you saw were the Uconn womens basketball team, great. While you tried to hide behind Jujus tall frame, Azzi Fudd was already making her way towards you, Paige trailing behind her.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" Azzi said, pulling you both into a hug, you heard a chuckle behind her. When you both pulled away from the hug, you heard Paige greet your teammate before turning towards you.

"Hey bunny"

"Hi"

You both stood there as your teammates were talking, Paiges eyes never left you. Even though you didn't look up from the floor, you could feel them from a miles away . When you finally got the courage to look at her, you saw a small smirk on her face. A cocky and confident one, it was your fault really, Paige knew she had this affect on you, and it made her want you more.

"Yeah were down" You heard Juju agree with Azzis invite, before the four of you made your way to the table, you told them you were going for a quick bathroom trip.

5 minutes later , the quick bathroom trip was turned into a quickie when Paige walked in and pushed against the wall while kissing you.

You felt yourself try to close your thighs, her hand slipped between them, stopping you. "Nah they stay open" you felt her say against your neck, her kisses started from your neck before she started making her way down your body.

When she made it her way to your pussy, you felt her place a teasing kiss on your inner thigh. "Paige please" you groaned, frustrated and gripped the bathroom sink.

"Please what princess?"

"Please... please..." you pleaded.

"Please wha-" she mocked you, the grip on your thighs tighten.

"Please lick my pussy" you cut her off. When you finally felt her tongue on you, you let out a breathless moan. She looked up at you, watching your expression, hearing your moans and when you finally looked down at her.

"Oh, oh" you moaned, her tongue now going fast and her kisses turned sloppy. Your hand was on her hair, your hand tightening on the hold.

"Yeah you like that?" she chuckled when you let out a groan, after having a taste of you, she was sure you were a drug, and she was addicted.

When she felt you arch your back, she sped up, her hand now rubbing your clit, you felt a pit form on your stomach.

"Oh P" the old nickname slipped out, Paige looked up at you, a small smile on her face.

"Cum for me baby" she commanded, her voice sent you over the edge, you let out a groan of pleasure, before feeling yourself release on her tongue.

After a long pause of you trying to regain your breath, she placed a small peck on your pussy before pulling your lace purple thong back up, not before placing another kiss on your inner thigh. As she appeared back to your face level, you couldn't help yourself and pulled her into a kiss. You felt her groan and smile against your lips. "I love how you get with me" . Your hair was a mess, you still couldn’t regain your breath and your lips were swollen.

When you pulled back, you looked at each other, the next seconds were spent with you both looking at each other adoringly. You couldn't help but ask "Why did you do that?" the mystery waited to unveil itself.

"Because no ones going to mess with you, not when i'm there" Your heart melted. This was Paige, while she messed with you, no one else can. Simply, you were hers.

You both were aware that the both of you looked like a mess when you went out of the bathroom, but neither of you cared. This was your thing, no one else mattered.

☆

thank you for reading <3333

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 5 - No Time to Waste

It’s been a week and a half since the last power surge incident and so far everything was quiet. Too quiet for Batman’s liking. It definitely increased his paranoia which in turn causes him to be extra moody. The culprit? Whoever was behind the power surge in the Narrows. They became an anomaly to Gotham. Unwanted, an eyesore in the eyes of Batman.

And the issue is, there hasn’t been any news at all. No sightings, no suspects, nothing. Bruce felt challenged in a way. Something is in Gotham, living in his city and he feels like he’s still so far from discovering who or what it is. For the world's greatest detective is having a hard time solving this case. How frustrating.

With no news of another quantum breach, big or small, nothing. It’s frustrating. What’s even more of a headache about this unsolved case, is another thing that has come to his attention- thanks Jim.

Bruce started hearing more reports of a new ‘vigilante’. But there are no pictures, no camera footage, no evidence, just testimonies, occasional sightings and witnesses. Nothing concrete, nothing solid, just no proof. So frustrating.

And there is a pattern.

What he does know is that they are always quick and efficient, never staying too long, leaving once or before the police arrive, and it’s always low level crooks like muggers or thiefs. Respectful and polite (from those they saved) and they mostly keep to the shadows of the night.

Whoever this new problem is, is trying to stay hidden and Batman doesn’t like that at all. Not. One. Bit. 

Despite the Narrows being Duke’s territory, he is just one person who patrols in the daytime, so some of his sons and daughter help patrol at night. But it seems this newcomer has incredible luck and scurries off everytime they are even close to their location.

But this doesn’t mean Batman will just let it go, oh no. Of course not silly, he’s going to find this new vigilante and see what they are about. He’s going to evaluate them, judge them, and all it takes is one mess up. Just one and he will make sure they are locked up in Arkham.

A bit extreme, possibly. But he will take no chances, not when it comes to the safety of his city. Gotham is his to protect and defend, he’s keeping many eyes out for this intruder. Watch your back.

“Sorry to interrupt your brooding hour B, but I have something I think you want to know. Also you have a message from Commissioner Gordon.” A new voice spoke through his comms.

“On my way.” He replied.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” a third voice snapped. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Explain.” Batman demanded.

“So you see…”

-

After the failed attempt at contacting Miguel, you spent a couple of all nighters in advancing your beacon. This time, it would require even more energy but now it won’t cause a potential blackout. But it will notify the bats of your location like last time.

You know you have to be extra fucking careful this time. You might have gotten lucky those days ago in not getting caught, but you know your luck is shit anyways and Batman is one paranoid mother fucker. Him and his wards.

You have to be very cautious in where you go and how you will do this. This new connector is a bit more sturdier than the lightweight one you made before, but this time it also won’t require you to be stuck in one place. Actually, your signal will ping in more than one location. It will bounce off the cell towers and throw a fake location. 

This will certainly tip the scales to your favor in avoidance of detection. Now, you won’t have to rely on your (shit) spider luck! 

All you have to do is to connect it to a phone or computer, and connect that to any service in the area and manually set it off- which you can easily hack. There is only one tiny itty bitty problem. Guessed it yet? No? Well it’s simple, the only problem is- YOU DON’T HAVE A PHONE.

You could theoretically use the library computer but with civilians around you is a big major no. You’re also pretty sure the library closes at like 8 or something.

No worries. You have a solution for this baby problem. Is it build one yourself? Pfft- fuck no. You don’t have time to build a phone and even less for a computer, you still have to tweak your god damn watch for fuck sake. So, you’re just going to buy one.

And with what money- I hear you ask. Simple. You’re going to make some. Time to become Spider-woman again.

Only until you have enough for a decent phone- you said. It’ll be easy- you said. Until you were proven wrong.

You spent two days hunting and defeating crooks, webbing the worst ones up, while the not so bad but are making shitty choices were let go (with the promise of hunting them down should they go back to doing bad stuff). Some advice here and there, pickpocketing criminal’s money, you know, the usual shabang.

Can’t forget you’re avoiding all cameras so as to not give yourself away. Though you almost got caught by the police once, haha. You never stick around long enough to get spotted by the bats or the cops.

Until one night, dressed as a normal civilian, you were coming back from a shelter, turning a corner and you were immediately surrounded by a group of thugs wanting to rob you. You literally have nothing, so the only thing they would be robbing is your backpack with extra clothes and your suit. And maybe like two granola bars.

You tried to charm your way out of this situation because first of all, youre fucking tired, two, you don’t have time for baby shit, and three, you’re about to start tweaking. Of course the five men didn’t take your sarcastic remarks lightly and decided that their knives would do the talking.

So you beat them up. All five of them. 60 seconds was all it took. So to recompense wasting a minute of your time, you loot their cash discreetly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) a well dressed man popped out of nowhere, getting close to you and you warned him you would break his wrist if he touched you- he still came but didn’t touch you. Holding out a black card he presented it to your face.

“You fight well, kid. If you want to make money fast,real money, call me and go here.”

“Um, I’m not a k-”

“You’ll make hundreds.” He cut you off. Rude. ”And if you impress the boss like you did me, you can make more.”

Spider luck?

Oh well that got your attention. Eyes narrowed. “Fast money, how?”

“Did no one ever teach ya about ‘stranger danger’? It’s a fight club, if you will. A tournament if you’re interested.”

Spider luck.

After pondering it for a quick second, here you are, getting a card with a free invite to a ring, probably filled with big, crazy, and most likely wanted criminals, and you get paid to beat them up? Sign me the fuck up. “I’m very interested.” you nod.

The man gave a crooked smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

“I’m not-” The man walked away and inside a white limo car. Fuck you.

So you went the next day. Making sure you wore your normal clothes, just sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and your face mask, you called the guy.

Meeting him was uninteresting, conversations were nothing exciting, just asking you your fighting style, can you take on a big guy, and whatnot. 

Upon entering the place (behind a well known bar) you were led to a ring, two fighters going at it. You watched how one was clearly more experienced than the other, while the other guy was battered and bleeding but still fighting. Blood spraying everywhere with every hit until he hit the ground cold.

It certainly is a sight.

It was that very day that you had your very first fight.

Stepping into the ring with no prep, no bandages, no helmet, nothing, this was a raw fight through and through, you were immediately booed and laughed at. Tough crowd.

Of course you were not going against a stereotypical big muscular guy that looks like he could bench press a tank. No, in fact you were against a young military deserter as your first opponent. Scars and all. Across his neck laid an identification tag (also known as dog tag). Christopher Conner.

The man in front of you sneered, laughing at you. “No way they sent me a kid. I will break all your bones. Don’t start crying too soon.” he cooed.

He taunted you and the crowd loved it. You, on the other hand, were pretty bored and unimpressed. 

“I’m not a kid…” you huffed behind your face mask.

What was able to be seen on your face must have told him that because he didn’t like being ignored. 

So he swung, a clear hit to be a knock out. You swerve.

This time he kicked, you parried.

He did not like that. Soon a game ensued. Hit attacking and you either blocking or dodging. You didn’t even need your spider sense, you got this in the bag, honestly this was quite sad. The crowd went from booing you to insulting Christopher.

“What the fuck man?!”

“Hit the kid!”

“My money’s riding on you dickface!”

“Don’t you dare lose motherfucker, or I’ll shoot you!”

It seems their insults were getting to the man. You on the other hand kinda started to feel bad.

“Stand still you fucker!” Christopher growled, throwing punches.

You scoffed, “My aunt throws faster punches than you Chris.” You can almost taste the bloodlust seeping from his pores. “Hey man, it's been three minutes, surely you can end this, right?”

Chris’s jaw clenched in anger. He was about to explode. A voice called out your name.

“Nada! Stop wasting time and finish it kid. Or you won’t get paid.” What? What a scam! You’re trying to entertain yourself too y’know, guess this will be a way to relieve stress.

Facing the military man you didn’t give him a second to process when you blew him a kiss and then a fist made contact with his chin, effectively knocking him out the second his back hit the ring walls. “I’m not a kid.”

The crowd was silent before chaos broke. Half the crowd booed and threatened the fallen man, while the other half started cheering.

With how unsatisfied most people were, you had to fight three more times. Each time, you won, with no scratches on you (you did pretend to get hit at times for realism). Each victory secures you cheers and hype.

By the end of your last fight, it was dark out and you were walked off by the same man that brought you here. “Good job kid. I know you were the right call.”

“I’m not-” A thick envelope was thrown. Catching it, you opened it up to find money, lots of money. “Woah.”

The man in the suit chuckled. “Like it? You can make more the more you win.”

Still entrance by the stack of green you nodded. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time.” The man walked off and you stared at the money.

“Booyah baby!”

You bought a phone the next morning.

And so it’s been five days since then. You weren’t in a desperate need for money anymore, so you cut your fights down from five to two a day. You still needed time to continue fixing your beacon. Spider-woman sightings have also significantly decreased the more you noticed the increase in security.

You were not taking any chances.

Walking towards the somewhat empty bar, you greeted the bouncer and headed inside to an ‘employees only’ door to meet the guy in the suit. He did tell you his name, but you call him ‘Suit’ in your head regardless. 

“Hey there Nada,” He hears a sigh from behind the mask. “Listen, kid, you’re one of my best fighters, but I need you to lay low for a while. Here.”

Catching a burner phone you tilt your head for an explanation, pocketing it. “Cops?”

“Worse.” he sighs, slicking his hair back. “Bats.”

Fucking spider luck.

Like a bucket of ice and cold water was dumped on you, blood turning cold. You froze in terror. You should have guessed that a hidden fighting ring would not be kept hidden for long. The criminals that you fought and were downright nasty, you made sure they were caught outside and far away from this location. 

And it was random from a list you composed. Enough to make sure you weren’t a suspect. But fuck now you have to erase your presense here. You’re a nobody, Nada, nothing. Guess it really is time to lay lower than low, like a ghost. “I won’t come back then.” Voice serious and cold.

He laughed, pulling out an envelope from his suit's inner pocket. “S’that so?” Handing it out for you to take, his eyes burn into yours. “Then I’ll just have ta hunt you down, kid.”

Taking the envelope (it felt thicker and heavier than usual) and placing it in your pocket you chuckled, cold, fake, calculating. “Try. I’m good at hiding.” Walking away, hands in pocket, feeling both the envelope and the burner phone, turning your body to avoid bumping into a familiar guy speed walking in. “I’m not a kid…” you mumbled to yourself.

You didn’t bother glancing at the man you dubbed ‘Suit’, real name Jacob Sullivan Jones. It seems it’s time for JSJ to have a run in with the Gotham City Police Department. 

It is truly fortunate that Jacob doesn’t know where you're staying. Although he might not know about the warehouse inside the junkyard, he does know you are not a resident with no permanent home. He had stalked you for a bit after the first meeting (the bouncer was so easy to spot really), believing you’re homeless, alone, and a nobody (someone who nobody would miss or look for). You’re using that (somewhat of a mis)information to your advantage.

Leaving the desolate bar, thoughts consumed by the written list of criminals you drafted and plan to anonymously give it to the GCPD. How you got the other criminals caught was simple, you always used a payphone and gave anonymous tips. That won’t work here. At least not fully. Knowing the corruption, maybe you should hand it to the one of the cops you know isn’t corrupt.

Now, do you hack the police and email it? Print it/fax it and send it? Or hand it directly but as spider-woman? Well for starters, the second option is garbage because if the right person doesn’t see it first, it will just get covered up. Hacking into the GCPD and emailing it directly doesn’t sound like a bad idea, the only issue is, if they decided to forward that information to the bats, you’re fucked because then you know they’ll dig in and somehow find out about you.

It seems like going in as Spider-woman is the best bet, but then again, the bats are real close, too close for comfort. Should you take the risk? But if you don’t turn these criminals in, it will stay in your consciousness of letting innocents down. Guess you have to suck it up and do it then.

“This sucks” you mumbled, deep in thought. 

Suddenly you felt your body freeze. Feeling your spider sense go haywire, you looked up and hard swerved to the side, avoiding bumping into a stranger.

It seemed that your sudden change in direction caught the stranger’s attention and the person next to him, both heads snapped towards you.

Hands out of pocket awkwardly waving in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” Taking a look at the one you almost bumped into, he is tall, with black hair and vibrant blue eyes.

Taking note of your embarrassment the stranger chuckles, looking into your eyes, “No worries! Nice reflexes though!”

The stranger’s partner scowled in your direction and you could feel his eyes burning you alive. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” Venom.

“Don’t be rude, Dame.”

“Don’t call me that. We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Alrighty then, guess it’s time to fuck off. “Yes, thank you- again, so sorry.” You don’t even spare the other guy a glance, quickly scurrying off. Your spider sense hasn’t shut off and you don’t like where this is going. “Good bye.”

“Hey wait a minute!”

“What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.”

Not turning back, you quickened to a brisk walk away from this nauseating area. This whole goddamn experience is so nauseating. You just wanted to go home. Was that soooooo much to ask? Regardless, you did not want to know what those strangers wanted, and you were taught ‘stranger danger’ and it certainly applied here.

After a certain distance later, your senses dulled into a small buzz as you turned a corner and entered the public library. Taking your usual empty seat, you let out a deep sigh. This was what you were used to since coming into this world. Since being yoinked from another dimension and plopped in this universe, your senses never really shut off. It was like everything in this world was a danger, and it only spiked when reacting to blood lust, danger of a certain radius, and people who are incredibly strong. 

Recalling that one stranger, who looked too innocent enough for it to be bloodlust, just that their presence caught you so off guard. But your senses screamed at you, and it terrified you to an extent. This is why you can never really relax being here, even when you’re alone in the warehouse, you just feel so out of place, and in danger constantly. It was beginning to eat you up honestly.

You miss your innocent youthful days. God you sound old. But you really do miss having a home to go back to. A home where once you step inside, it’s warm, and two people would always greet you like a warm embrace.

Now it’s cold and desolate, barely anything inside, empty and lonely.

But now, you can’t even go there anymore. Even if it was painful to live in the same home that had more members, then reduced to just you, it was still home. 

You can’t even go home.

Remembering the words Jacob Sullivan Jones spoke to you earlier, you fish out the envelope. Taking note of the weight, it was decided to open it and find more than usual.

Picking up a small zip-lock bag, your eyes widened. It was an ID, an ID and a passport. Just what the fuck was Jacob going to do with giving you this? Why did he make this for you? What were his plans? No, you can’t think about that. This is a blessing for sure, and you’ll take it- but, you have to put Jacob in prison. Now.

This is a gift and you know that with criminals, all gifts are never for free. This is a ‘you owe me’ gift. “Fuck, this sucks.” You just want a moment of peace.

Think, you have to think. Now you have an identification, but, you don’t know if you’re in the system, since once again, incase you forgot, you don’t fucking exist here. Whatever Jacob was thinking, you definitely don’t want a part of it. You’re going to put a stop to this now.

Though, recalling the two strangers earlier, you don’t bother with the rude one of the two, more focused on the one with blue eyes. Something about him just stuck out to you. He looked vaguely familiar.

Okay, let’s take this from the top. You felt a strong sense of precaution, thus causing your spider sense to alert you. Your sense only went away when you were a considerable distance away from those two, so you know it’s about the strangers. Bases covered, perfect. What’s next?

 You only really focused on the one who you almost touched, so let’s continue from there. He is tall, a welldefine body, black hair, and vibrant blue eyes. That’s all you remember seeing now for what you heard. His friend/partner/acquaintance/fellow party member said ‘Kent’, this could be his name or surname but the name ‘Kent’ makes your throat clogged. You only know of another Kent and it’s a superhero.

It couldn’t be…right? 

Turning the computer on, you started typing away, fingers trembling, heart thumping loudly, head spinning, and body sweating. Please, please, please, be wrong. You prayed.

The window search lands on a somewhat recent news. Superman and Superboy save hundreds during bridge collapse! By Lois Lane Kent.

In the photo, on the front page was a scene, both Superman and Superboy. The older one was holding a piece of a bridge while the other younger one was using his heat vision. This was Superman’s son. And you came into contact with him.

You were royally fucking screwed.

Fuck- fuck! No, no nono! 

All the anxiety you tried to lock away came like a tsunami. You were reminded of how small you are in this world. How easy it is to find trouble even without looking. You wanted no part in this world but it seems the gods wanted to fuck you over and over again. 

And, as much as you wanted to curse out the Spot for yeeting you far faaaaaaar from your universe, you only blame yourself for latching onto him and getting lost on the way to his next destination.

God this sucks! You wanted to curl up and cry, but you can’t. You’re a big girl and so, you’ll deal with this fuckery later. After all, your best trait was putting your issues to the side and focusing on the bigger picture. This- meeting Superman’s son can wait. After all, you haven’t run into any bats besides Signal- yes you researched him when you had free time (you only knew of him but not really who he was), so for now, your spider luck has been blessing you thus far.

You need to focus on the bigger picture, getting Jacob and the other criminals caught.

Getting to work, you begin to type away your list that you memorized, the location of the bar, the owner of the bar was still a mystery but the one who runs it is Jacob, schedule of the bouncer shifts, and the names and alias of those who you encountered as well as the situation of misguided teens. You type it all, making sure to keep your real and fake identity out, you did put in your alias Nada, as a picked up street kid. Enough for it to be a ‘misguided’ teen situation but not enough to catch someone’s attention unless they were looking for it.

Now that you know you ran into Clark Kent’s son (a deduction), you know you can’t risk encountering him as spider-woman. Knowing that Superman can (somehow) memorize and identify someone based on their heart beat or whatever, so fuck no are you going to parade as spider-woman any time soon.

You swear to god that you will do everything you can to avoid meeting them in both their civilian personas and alter egos.

Calming yourself, you get ready to hack the GCPD, and leave a message.

‘They know. Scatter.’ 

It hits you. The epiphany of why Jacob had an ID and passport made for you. They were moving locations. Abandoning fort, and taking anyone who they wanted. Basically a trafficking ring for those who weren’t onboard, and a new opportunity for those who they saw potential in. 

Shit, you should have stopped this when Jacob found you, but you didn’t know anything then. Now it could be too late. But Jacob did say to lay low, so they’re mostly biding their time. Probably erasing, hiding, and misplacing real and fake evidence.

They need to get exposed now, ‘strike while the iron is hot’ as the saying goes. 

It seems like it’s time to meet the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department, James “Jim” Gordon, as Spider-woman. How fun… 

Way to contratic your fucking promise so soon. Well, at least it’s a civilian and not a hero/vigilante. “This fucking sucks.”

-

Damian scoffed when Tim wanted to force his father the Batman into his lead. It’s not that he doesn’t want his father, it’s just this is an undercover sort of situation. He got a lead when he went to interrogate a pathetic military criminal. He can handle this mission on his own.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” Damian heard Jon chuckle, most likely overhearing this conversation with his super hearing. What a nuisance.  “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Well that was something. So, what’s the plan that you didn’t want Lizzie to be involved in?”

“Focus, Jon.” Damian explained their stakeout first, before going to don their costumes. Deep in their conversation, Damian caught sight of one of the suspects speed walking past them. He brings this to Jon’s attention. “It's him, the mercenary Christopher Conner.”

“Okay, so this bar is the place. Let me check real quick.” Using his vision, Jon’s eyebrow furrows. “Next door is styled like a wrestling ring, only two exits. From here and from an office. This is the place.”

“Then we’ll change and apprehend the criminal. Watch and hear what he is saying.” Jon followed Damian’s lead when someone jumped out of his way like he was burning them, causing Damian to also turn his head.

“I’m so sorry!” Despite the mask covering their mouth, their voice of this buffoon sounded androgynous, their clothes didn’t help to differentiate a gender either. But what he can see were this stranger’s eyes, and he can’t look away.

It seems neither can Jon as he chuckles and waves off the encounter. “No worries! Nice reflexes though!” Jon makes it very obvious he’s staring hard.

Just what is it about this total insignificant stranger that caught Damian’s undivided attention? From what he can see, they look normal (can’t really tell with that face mask though), but there is just something that has him unable to take his eyes off of them.

Jon has the same issue, and Damian narrowed his eyes in suspicion and scowls. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” 

Jon, without breaking eye contact, scolds Damina. “Don’t be rude, Dame.”

Snapping out of this trance, he snaps back,” Don’t call me that.” That’s right, they are on a mission, no distractions allowed. “We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Jon looks at Damian, as he too, regains his focus, eyes staring into each other as if communicating, he nods. They can come back to this after they finish their assignment. 

“Yes, thank you- again, so sorry. Good bye.” The stranger quickly scurried off.

Caught off guard Jon impulsively extended his arm out to grab their shoulder. “Hey wait a minute!” 

Damian acted faster, grabbing Jon’s arm. “What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.” Pointing towards the bar with his head. This isn’t good, they’re getting sidetracked.

Jon didn’t turn to look at Damian, no he was still staring at the stranger. “I just wanted to ask…” He trailed off as he strained his ears, focusing on their heartbeat, their breathing patterns, anything he could to commit to memory. “For their name.”

Damian, too, side glanced at the retreating figure, dissecting the way they moved, their tensed shoulders, everything until they were out of sight.

Jon wanted to ask their name. Was that weird? Their situation didn’t require him to ask their name. How would he even go about it, ‘Sorry for almost bumping into you, hey can I ask for your name?’ Yea, no.

“Damian, I-” Jon began before getting caught off.

“I know. We’ll deal with that later,” His eyes narrow, glancing at the bar. “Focus.” But he too was entranced. But he was much better at pushing that to the side, but he knows he won’t be able to hold it off for now. The best he can do is rein in Jon’s attention to the assignment.

Moving to a cafe nearby with a good view of the bar’s entrance, they ordered some drinks. This wasn’t Damians idea but he’ll let Jon have his way for cooperating.

Jon nodded, getting back into focus, using his super hearing to overhear the conversation inside the bar.

His stomach tingles at the thought of asking the stranger for their name.

Hand discreetly on his year Damian spoke, “Drake, look into the time of now and send it over to me.”

“Hey- wait-” Tim was caught off guard, “What’s this about? I thought you didn’t ‘require assistance’ for this.” He teased. 

“I don’t.” He shut the comms off. Now, back to work. “What’s going on Jon?”

“This is our guy. He’s getting assigned to deliver a package. This is serious. He’s upset.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Tt. Follow.”

Jon tunes into the conversation again.

“The police aren’t the issue. It’s the costumes that have been spotted close. We already lost a couple of our men to the cops.”

“And you don’t think that’s suspicious? We have a traitor!”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, Chris? Ever since Sebastian was caught by the fucking commissioner, the others have been getting caught like flies here in Gotham. He’s spilling, so I need to silence him.” 

“The usual?”

“No, not you this time. We’re leaving so I need you to focus on one more thing.”

“Is it about them, the one you want to recruit?”

“Yes, I want them-” a phone rang interrupting the conversation. “It’s the boss. Dismissed, I’ll send ya the rest later.”

“Understood sir. I’ll deliver the packages tonight.” The mercenary walked off, no longer as upset as earlier.

Jon, processing the information, becomes visibly upset. “They’re recruiting, and based on the conversation, it's the runaway and homeless teens that have been reported by the shelters. This is bigger than just Gotham. I think they’re leaving, moving somewhere else.”

“Let’s follow.” Damian’s attention was caught at the mercenary leaving the bar. “There.”

“The guy he was talking to said he would ‘send the rest later’, I think it will be on his phone.” Jon informed.

Damian absorbed the information. “We’ll follow and catch him red handed.”

“What about ‘the package’?” Jon questioned.

“What about them? I’ll forward the intel to the rest. We focus on this guy. The evidence on his phone is all we need.”

“Dame, I can’t with good conscience leave those vulnerable kids on their own.” Stressed Jon.

“And we’re not. The others will take care of it.” Damian replied. “When we apprehend the mercenary, acquire the intel, we go after this guy while the others detain their accomplices and rescue the runaways. They will all fall tonight, Jon, so focus.”

Jonathan Kent wanted to bite back, but he knows Damian ran this plan at least three times before bringing him along. Damian is just that strategic. And he places his full trust in him, god does this leave him unsatisfied. He knows those kids are trapped somewhere and if taking this mercenary and the manager from the bar out gets them safe faster, then he will do as he is told.

Something just feels out of place, this has been too easy so far. “Alright, he’s heading north.”

Damian nods, slipping away to change into his suit.

As if connected, Damian as well feels like things have been progressing smoothly. And when it comes to crimes committed in Gotham, when things are going good, then something isn’t right.

Ever since the first the GCPD have been arresting some low and decent levels of this new crime syndicate, news of some human trafficking organizations have been slowly getting uncovered as if by overnight. It started around five days ago, low level members were caught, and just two days ago, a higher member was arrested.

Ever since his father the Batman (he tagged along) interrogated him, he spilled like a waterfall. Since they have been cracking down on the case, they know this criminal organization is trying to get on the levels of Black Mask or The Penguin.

The only issue is, this was only exclusive to Gotham, now based on what Jon relay to him, this is just a small base, there are others. He refuses to let this go on any further. Not to his city, or his people. Yet, there is this itch in the back of his head. These captures were by far too easy, and these people aren’t sloppy. No, they had been operating for some time, and yet they were getting caught like moths to a flame due to anonymous tips being called in. Someone out there is deliberately getting these scumbags caught.

And Batman believes it could possibly have a connection to the other pressing issue that’s consuming his thought. There has to be a connection to the quantum disturbance from a little over a week ago. It’s just too coincidental for it not to be. 

Something is happening in Gotham, and he will get to the bottom of this.

-

You know, people say to plan for everything, thus making Batman a force to be reckoned with since he is the master of having contingency plans and backup plans for those backup plans. And yet, here you are, with a plan and life just wants to fuck you over and expects you to just deal with it.

No.

After coming up with spider-woman handing the commissioner Jim Gordon a list of criminals and misguided teens, you just needed to go and change. But here you are, running into a situation if you will. 

You see, after running away from Superman's son, and a printed list folded neatly in your pocket as you head ‘home’, you started to feel the icky sensation of being watched. Years of experience and knowing how not to tip off that you know, you head away from your place of operations and head up north. 

Though despite not giving signs of how utterly fucking tense and anxious you are, you rationalize that it can not be any of the birds because you haven’t done anything suspicious. That, and the fact that your spider sense isn’t screaming at you of danger so for now, that’s calming you down.

On the other hand, you still have no clue who is following you. It was like, thirty minutes since running into the super, and no call from the burner phone. This whole ‘being followed’ is a fucking nuisance, putting a wrench in your plans. 

The only good thing is that, since you are technically surrounded by civilians walking about, they can’t really do anything to you, unless they want to cause panic amongst the innocents. Though, that wouldn’t stop someone from shooting you if they wanted you dead. 

Still, regardless if you are wanted dead (highly unlikely) or alive (for whatever reason) you don’t want to lead innocent civilians into this, so away you go! Informing Jim Gordon can wait (not it can’t), you’ll lose your pursuer and then catch them!

Turning a corner, into alleyways, zig zagging, you hear their footsteps pick up. Persistent.

While running away, you form theories. We crossed out the batsonas, you haven’t done or got caught with anything to be on their radar afterall, it can’t be a random crook because for one, you look poor too, and second, they’re chasing you for a reason. Another idea was maybe it has something to do with Jacob. But that doesn’t make much sense since you just got a burner phone. 

Something just isn’t adding up. 

Your spider sense spiked as you turned down a corner. Despite this, you kept going straight, ready to take on whoever was going to appear in front of you. 

With a very good distance between you and your pursuer you took this chance to discard your mask and sweatshirt (thank god for having a tank top) ontop of a parked motorcycle as you turned another corner, there stood a man near the end of the alleyway, tall and (once again) wellbuilt, with black hair just standing there, phone in hand.

Quickly you jogged towards him (he glanced your way) and grabbed his arm, startling him. “Sorry, please play along!” you whispered and pulled him.

The stranger only had one second to figure out what was happening. In that split second though, he heard a plea for help. The next thing he knew, he had his free hand on the wall above your head while the other one was moved to your waist. Back towards the wall and having his big frame engulf yours, you let his arm go and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him towards your face. 

It's only then that you take in his appearance, handsome from what you can see, and your heart dropped. “I’m being followed,” you muttered, noticing the stranger’s eyes roam your face before settling on your eyes. “I don’t know who they are.”

The man in front of you nodded, kept in place as footsteps hastily turned the corner, running past the both of you. Your body tensed up watching the hooded figure stop at the end of the alleyway. Taking the chance to observe the guy, he pulled out a phone while looking both ways before exiting from your view.

While you were distracted the stranger in front of you pulled back, making your release your hold. He was quiet. “Once again, I’m so sorry! Thank you!” You nervously backed away, in the opposite direction your pursuer went.

He grunted, watching you walk back away. He opened his mouth to speak but the phone in his hand began to ring. He glanced down at the caller before looking back up. 

You were already gone, picking up your sweatshirt and mask, donning them on and running away. Your heart was pounding so loud, it rang in your ear. That was Jason mother fucking Todd. You ran into the Red Hood. What the fuck was he doing in the Narrows?!

Recalling the words Jacob spoke earlier, it echoed through your head. ‘Bats.’ That’s right. The fucking bats are intown, and this was too close for comfort. This sucks balls!

“Focus, focus. Officer Gordon, here I come.” To the junkyard you go.

-

Jason watched the very pretty woman leave him with his thoughts. Getting pulled into caging someone against a back alley wall was not in his cards today, but with Gotham, one always has to expect the unexpected. 

Speaking of the unexpected, he let himself momentarily get distracted recalling the bold stranger from earlier. Something about this woman, rendered him quiet. But at the same time, he took note of just how anxious she was. Tensed body, eyebrows furrowed, worried expression, scared eyes, and over all the way she held onto him while losing her pursuer. He wondered just what kind of trouble found her. It seems crime really doesn’t stop during the daylight.

He committed her face to memory, and will touch upon her situation once he finished his current assignment. 

“You still there?” the voice spoke from his phone.

“Yea, I’m still here. I’m in the Narrows, following the lead.”

“Good, while Damian follows the mercenary, you got the manager. I’m seeing some suspicious moments. Turn on your commlink, Bruce is already moody as he is.”

“When isn’t he like that.” Jason rolled his eyes as he walked back to his bike that he parked further in the alley. Before taking off, he glanced in the direction the stranger went. Her actions and the sound of her voice repeated inside his mind like an echo, burning itself in his memory.

Prev; Next;

I realized everything I wanted for this chapter did not happen. So now it's split into two parts- oops. Side note, this will not be a yandere series, though I do think they get 'possessive' sure, not yandere though. I finally know how I am going to end the Act, the issue is the in between that I struggle with.

Yay, you met Jon and Jason. Next up are Cass, Steph, Dick, and Tim the only ones left.

Web Bound Secret Corner!

Spider-Woman had an eidetic memory.

Spider-Woman does not know about the trafficked kids.

Spider-Woman did not notice Damian.

If Spider-Woman had to choose between saving a life and going home, she'd save the life.

Spider-Woman's is bad at grieving and worse with failure.

[readychilledwine]

Hi I hope you’re doing well! Can I request an azriel x feysands daughter reader fic where azriel leaves velaris and the inner circle temporarily after elain chooses lucien over him. He comes back like 50 years later and at that point rhys and feyre have two kids, nyx and reader. Azriel meets reader at a bar and the bond snaps, azriel is so shocked by the bond snapping that he doesn’t notice that she looks just like rhys and feyre. After going on dates and stuff, reader introduces azriel to her parents and everyone is hella confused.

Small World

Warnings - best friends daughter, implied smut, angry rhys

A/N - Azriel can't catch a break. Poor guy. Also, peep this cute divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Part Two is Here

Azriel held your hand tight as you two walked through Velaris. You were running late to a family dinner where he'd be meeting your parents, brother, and a few other people for the first time.

He watched familiar streets passing by, shadows grown eerily quiet. You stopped at a familiar restaurant, one he had frequented over 20 years ago. He came here with Rhys and Cassian almost weekly before they became mated, and he left the Night Court for 20 years.

He had told you his story of a beautiful love forbidden to him due to her mating bond. He had told parts of his past, of his journeys outside of night, of the past years he had spent healing.

He had been back in Velaris for almost 3 years. 2 of which were spent solely with you.

You had been moving into the apartment next to his when you two crossed paths. You had been struggling to carry a heavy box, so he had taken it from you, helping you get it into your apartment.

That quick interaction turned into nights spent reading together so you both weren't alone. Then coffee in the mornings. Then days spent shopping. Evenings spent out to dinner.

You two spoke about everything.

Well.

Almost everything.

Families were a mostly banned topic.

Azriel knew you had a brother 5 years older than you. He knew both of your mother was involved in your life, as well as married and mated. He knew you had 2 blood aunts, one of which was married, one of which was not. He knew your father was a banned topic.

You knew he had 2 blood brothers, the ones who had scarred his hands, 2 chosen brothers, and several others he considered family. That his mother was wonderful, that he hoped his father found a shallow grave.

But you had told him bringing family into your love life normally ended poorly.

And he had told you he had not been around or spoken to his found family since he left.

You two closed that book, choosing to be just you and him.

You stopped before hitting the private back room Azriel had been in many times. "As a reminder, my dad and brother are dicks."

Azriel leaned down kissing you softly. "I can handle a few assholes, angel."

You sighed heavily. "Just remember, I didn't tell you because they ruin everything. Please." He nodded again, resting his forehead on yours.

You two stood there breathing for a few seconds as he ran a hand through your sandy blonde hair. "Let's just go in. An hour," he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. "One hour and then we go home."

Home.

The cabin you two had just purchased and moved into.

Small. Intimate. Cozy.

Everything you two both didn't know the other never knew.

Everything you two wanted as soon as the bond snapped a couple months ago.

You shared one last kiss, opening the door.

Your father and mother had their backs to you, speaking with your brother who instantly paled the second he saw who you were with.

Azriel had gone stiff, eyes locked with a shocked Cassian.

Nesta almost dropped her wine with a gasp, handing flying to her mouth as she stepped back and shook her head.

Azriel looked at you again. Studying you harder.

Sandy blonde hair.

Button nose.

High cheek bones.

Part illyrian.

Eyes that reflected starlight.

Eyes that were near violet.

Rhysand's eyes.

"Mom, dad," you approached them, ignoring the tension in the room and pulling Azriel with you.

Rhys turned first, whiskey glass shattering in his grip before a look of shock and anger hit him. Feyre immediately turned after that. She was too stunned to move. "This is my mate and boyfriend-"

Elain whispered before you could finish, eyes watering with sadness and hope, "Azriel."

Rhys nodded, scratching his jaw. "I know who he is, babygirl."

Azriel watched you as you looked between them before your face fell. "You're that Azriel."

Feyre clapped her hands, forcing light and air into the room. "Let's sit and eat! This is a um, lovely, surprise. We should all be excited!"

Aunt Elain immediately moved, sitting on Azriel's other side. His hand found yours under the table, lacing your fingers together. Your father sat across from him, mother to one side, Cassian to the other. Nyx sat next to Nesta and her Elain as you all eat at the circled table.

"So where have you been," Nyx refused to be intimated by the situation, secretly filing this away as an example of why he was the better child. "And when did you start seeing my sister?"

Azriel shifted, clearing his throat. "I spent the last 17 years traveling the world. I've been back in Velaris for 3 years. I started seeing y/n 2 years ago."

Cassian drank his beer as if it was water before setting the mug down and refilling it. "You have been back for 3 years and didn't think to yourself that you should go visit your brothers?"

"I wasn't ready."

"But you were ready enough to fuck my daughter as a revenge move?"

"Rhys!" "Dad!"

Rhys put a hand up to your mother and gave you a look. "You would feel the same had it been Elain who ran, Feyre Darling. And you," he turned towards you. "You should have told me who he was."

"Do not speak to her like that. She is not a child."

Nesta looked up, sending a silent prayer to the Cauldron. "She is my child," Rhys growled. "You've been bedding your niece."

Nesta slammed her hands down, "Enough! She is not his niece by blood, and she is clearly upset. If you all cannot be civil, I'm taking y/n home." The room went silent with Lady Death's power flickering through it. "This is the first real family meal we have gotten to have in 20 years," a sad gaze met Azriel's. Guilt shook him, reminding him if the friendship he and Nesta had formed. The friendship he had abandoned. "Can we please just enjoy it."

You were uncomfortable, tears beginning to form as his scarred hand refound yours under the table and squeezed. Rhys nodded, going back to his food as the sound of utensils barely scraping and drinks being poured filled the air.

You should have put two and two together.

Scarred hands.

Massive wingspan.

Mysterious male.

Pretty dagger.

Of course he was that Azriel. The Azriel your Aunt Elain had been pining for for years now.

The Azriel who left in the dead of night leaving only a note.

The Azriel whose seat sat empty your whole life as your dad's stare always lingered on it.

You squeezed his hand back, glancing at the white wine on the table and your empty glass. It was a rare occurrence for you to drink, but now seemed like the perfect time. "Daddy, can I have some wine please?"

You hadn't thought about that either as two deep male voices replied as they reached for the wine, "Of course, baby."

The silence was deafening. Your real father too stunned to speak, Azriel's face growing red with embarrassment.

Cassian, always the joyful uncle, broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, as did your mother. The two of them gripping each other tightly as your father sat blinking over and over, trying to erase this moment from him mind.

It was then the tears fell, and you stood, leaving them to eat as you went into the bathroom.

Azriel and Rhys stared at each other. "We have to get through this for her. You have to get over it. It would have happened regardless of me being here or me leaving."

Rhys growled. "You left without warning, without consulting us, without-"

"You told me to do whatever I needed do to move on and prevent war with Autumn and Day. I did what I had to. I got help, I saw the world, I moved on. I did not plan on coming home and meeting y/n. I didn't even know she was yours until tonight." Azriel took a deep breath before turning to Nesta. "She needs you. Please."

She stood, her and Feyre went after the young female without hesitation. Nyx stood, offering an arm to Elain and forcing her from the room as his father and uncles, well, uncle and soon to be brother, spoke. "You want to talk about fucked up abandonment, Rhys? Where the hell have you been the past two years of her life?"

"Do not speak to me about things you do not understand or know about."

"How can he know," Cassian started gently. "How can he know how we're all working on fixing our relationships with her if we don't tell him. We aren't innocent, Rhys. Maybe this is the first step. Accepting them, loving them despite everything," a silent message was sent to Azriel through Cassian's eyes, "Maybe that's what it takes to bring y/n home."

Rhys looked up, eyes being to line with tears. "What does she say about me?"

Azriel sighed, drinking his whiskey heavily. "That her father favored her brother. Despite his power and ability to look and find the truth, he believed her brother without hesitation and would punish her for his actions at times. That he threatened her once by reminding her that as an illyrian, and as a female, her worth was in whom she was sold to."

Azriel watched the visible flinch. "I can't help but to wonder how bad the argument must have been for that to have been what you said to her."

"I caught her with Tamlin," Rhysand's voice broke. "I caught them whispering about running away together. About sailing somewhere and living out their lives, just the two of them now that he handed Spring over to his heir. She didn't know what he had done to Feyre, who he was. I," Rhys shook his head. "I lost my shit without explaining. Tamlin also didn't know she was mine. I hid her so well for her protection. To prevent anyone from trying to purchase her. I did such a great job protecting her that my protection backfired and she began to rebel."

Cassian sighed softly. "She moved out because Rhys told her he gave up. That if she wanted to explore the world without his hands, without our guidance, then that's what she should go do. He set her up with enough money to last 5 years, bought that apartment complex you two live in, and sent her on her way."

"She just doesn't listen."

Azriel shook his head. "Why would she listen when she isn't heard? From her side, you treat her like your father treated Selene."

"I love her much more than my father ever loved my sister."

"Then show her," Azriel leaned back into his chair. "Show her before I take her from this place, too."

Cassian stiffened, his breathing becoming deep but strained. "They're about to come out. Y/n wants to leave."

Azriel stood, "Then we go. I won't force her to stay here. Let me know when you're ready to talk, Rhys. And if you never are, do not be surprised when I do what I have to in order to keep her safe and happy."

You were out the door quickly and into Azriel's chest, shadows pulling you two away to wherever he took you for comfort, to wherever you felt safe. Feyre turned to Rhys, fire blazing in her eyes, "Fix. This."

PS - there will be a part two

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (very minimal), mentions of readers past relationship, some bond building, smoking, some tense moments

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4!! - part 5

————-

“Captain?” Soap yells from afar to get what seems to be prices attention. When he realizes that is indeed his captain he jogs to where John stands.

“What’re ye doin’ back?” Soap question a little confused, after their last two month mission John was granted leave for three months to recoup and rest. 

“Just came to turn in these files.” He says waving the Manila folders in his hands.

“You could’ve just done that online, you know.” And yes John does know and by the look he gives Johnny he also knows.

“What, trouble in paradise?” Johnny smiles widely at the guilty look on his captain's face.

“Something like that.” John replies clearly a little tense.

“Well, tell me about it.” He says waiting expectantly.

“Over some drinks Sergeant.” Price replies before making his way into the building and soap returning to the trainees.

————-

“Oh that’s fucked mate.” Ghost says.

“Captain no offense you’re a very intelligent and capable man but that is so fucking stupid.” Gaz states before taking a drink of his beer. 

“You thought oh I’m catching some feelings for her, let's just ignore her.” Soap says in a mimicking voice.

“No, it's not only that, I don’t have time to entertain dense feelings and she likely doesn’t share those same feelings.” His gruff voice replies as he takes a puff of his cigar and blows the smoke out into the pub they sit in.

“Did you ask her?” Gaz asks, already knowing the answer.

“Am I twelve? What grown man asks a woman if they have feelings for them usually there’s hints and clues you can pick up on.” Ghost grumbles in agreement from price earning a slap on the arm from soap.

“And she’s done nothing that may even give you an inkling that she’s into you mate?” Gaz quips in.

“Like “oh hey captain can you help me open this jar?” Or “price can you please help me fix this?” Johnny tries his best at a womanly voice. 

“First of all she doesn’t call me captain or price and second of all, yes she does that but it’s only because she needs the help.” They all look at him with blank stares.

“I bet you wish she’d call you captain.” Soap whispers but before John can reply Gaz starts.

“Captain, does she ever stutter when you talk to her?” Gaz asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

“sometimes.” He excuses that as human behavior. 

“When she noticed your avoidance, did she get upset?” I mean you got a little mad at him that once but that was cause he was overstepping. 

“A little.” He replies not really seeing where it’s going until oh.

“Yeah cap, you're being naive.” 

“You should go back there, be kinder and less weird. She probably thinks you don’t like her and if that lasts too long she’ll start to actually not like you.” Well he obviously can’t have that.

“We need a mum anyways.” Gaz says under his breath and soap agrees. 

“What?” 

———————

“Hey you’re back.” You can’t resist the small smile that makes its way onto your face as John walks into the kitchen.

“Told you I’d only be a day or two.” He repeats his words from a couple days ago, hands awkwardly in his pockets. 

He notices there’s something different in your energy that he picks up on or maybe it’s his energy that has changed.

“Yeah but last time you said a month and we’re gone two.” He remembers that and sees your point then he thinks about the fact that you remember that. 

“Well last time I really didn’t think I’d be gone that long but you know.” He says not going into detail and just waving it off.

“Well I have a job to get too.” You say closing the package of blueberries you’d been eating out of then place them back in the fridge.

“On a Saturday?” He questions the unusuality of it.

“Yeah I had a woman call me this morning, said her wedding was next week and she really wanted me to be the one to give her her dream hair so I agreed.” 

“Okay then, I’ll see you later, doll.” He says as you grab your keys and purse getting ready to leave.

“Bye John.” You smile softly looking anywhere but him cause if you did the smile that lays on your face at the newfound nickname would be too evident. 

————-

“Hey so we’re just doing some highlights and a cut right.” You ask the woman in your chair as you drape the cape over her paying mind to her swollen belly and button it in the back.

“Yeah I actually have some pictures if that’s okay.” She says pulling out her phone to show you.

“Great, I’d love to see them.” You say getting your equipment ready.

She shows you and by the already light tone of her hair this will be easy work. You get everything settled and ready, mixing the bleach and color and sorting through the pieces you’ll paint.

“So what made you ask me to do your hair?” This is a question you always love to ask your clients. Was it social media or a referral or maybe something else.

“My finance actually recommended you.” Her fiance.

“Oh I don’t actually do men’s hair, who’s your fiance?” You question a little confused but clearly he might’ve just seen you on instagram or had a friend who’s been with you.

“Brian, he said he used to know you and heard you did really good hair.” No fucking way.

“Oh yeah I know Brian old friends.” You smile through the tears that threaten to escape your eyes. 

How could he? How could he give this woman everything you’ve ever wanted then send her to you to show off that goddamn-

“He says to tell you hi.” She smiles looking back at you not having a clue of who you really are. 

“Oh tell him I said hello.” You reply shortly.

“How’d you two meet?” You ask curiously.

“We actually worked together and when we first started talking he was actually in a relationship but nothing serious and the more we spent time together it just became clear we were meant to be together.” Her.

“So he cheated on his ex partner?” You say in a polite tone, one a girlfriend would use.

“Well I guess you could say that but according to him their relationship was over before it was over.” You smile at her nodding in understanding. 

Scream, you wanted to scream your fucking head off the rest of the appointment. But no you stood there politely and gave this woman the most beautiful hair you could’ve imagined you even took fucking pictures for her to send to you’re cheating ex.

—————

On the way home you cried out of anger not even out of jealousy, or sadness just anger at the audacity that man had and the years you wasted with such a fucking loser.

When you pulled into the driveway you turned the car off and just sat there. You sat there and pondered on everything. You’d always asked him for a baby and he’d said he would never be a father. You always wanted to get married and he would say “marriage isn’t my thing.” And yet he’ll do it all for another woman. A woman he really loves. 

But in the end you're glad it’s not you. It isn’t you that has to deal with that man child, it won’t be you who’s stuck with someone who isn’t faithful. In the end you’re the lucky one and finally you feel like you can let it go. 

So you dry your eyes and head inside, kicking off your shoes by the door and paying notice to John that’s currently in the living room. You walk over to the couch and sit a comfortable amount of space away from him simply testing the waters and watch the football game he has on.

“How was your appointment?” He says suddenly taking in notice of your puffy eyes.

“Good.” You reply in a whisper with a half smile.

“You’re lying.” He assumed maybe just an asshole client or the outcome wasn’t good.

“It was my ex boyfriend's new pregnant fiancé, who also happens to be the woman he cheated on me with.” You admit with a small laugh at the end with how ridiculous that sounds.

“You got cheated on?” He asks, thoroughly shocked not paying mind to the other details.

“And she’s hot.” You reply looking him in the eye. All he’s thinking is hotter than you?

“Did she know who you were?” This has to be the most mind fucking thing he’s ever heard.

“Not a clue and what's funnier is he recommended me to her.” You laugh again and it’s slightly scary how calm you seem.

“You’re not upset?”

“John I was over that man the minute he cheated on me. I’m only upset over all the time I lost wanting things he said he never wanted but what he meant was he never wanted that with me.” You say quietly between the two of you like it’s a secret. 

“His loss.” he says, offering you a small smile.

“I guess.” 

“No doll I know.” You don’t know what to make of that comment and just smile back at him. 

————-

Later that night after a long shower you step onto the outside patio for some fresh air not noticing John smoking a cigar beside you. 

“Jesus!” You jump slightly at the sight of his looming shadow.

“At this point just expect me to be everywhere.” He laughs as he exhales the puff of smoke. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.” You reply before taking in the sight before you. John in Levi’s, a thermal and brown leather jacket, thick fingers holding a cigar between them lightly tapping it to drop the excess ash.

“I’m sorry, does it bother you?” He asks suddenly, concerned about whether that was in the policy or something. 

“No, not at all.” You smile shivering at the breeze that blows through the air.

He offers the cigar between his fingers by gesturing it towards you, you’ve smoked cigarettes but this thing looked like a cigarette on steroids. Nonetheless you didn’t decline the offer and hesitantly wrapped your lips around it giving it a small puff letting the earthy flavor consume your taste buds as you exhale. 

John watches you with longing eyes. Truthfully he expected you to grab it from him but instead you toked it straight from his fingers and shit it was hot. The way your lips wrapped around the very end had him running hot suddenly. The layers he wore were becoming overbearingly warm. 

“Do you ever wish you chose a normal career?” The question left your lips before you could think about why you were asking it and he clears his dirty mind before answering. 

“Not really, my job makes me feel like I have purpose and although my hands get dirty it’s for a good cause.” You nod as you look up into the blue sky that’s slowly becoming darker. 

“You do have purpose outside your job though you know that right?” You look him in the eye for a mere second then back up. 

He’s taken aback slightly by your statement and stays silent. He lets it settle in his thoughts and feelings. Wondering what prompted you to say it in the first place.

“Thankyou.” He replies shortly after. 

“You're welcome.” You reply gently.

“I’m going to head inside, don’t be out here too long you’ll get sick.” You say sliding the door open and he laughs in return. If you even had the slightest idea of the weather he’s lived in. 

———

You woke up the next morning bright and early, currently stood in the kitchen brewing hot water for tea and setting the coffee machine on. One for you, one for John. He was surprisingly still asleep although it also is still very early. He never sleeps past 7.

As you turn the heat off the stove, knocking sounds at the front door. Maybe a package you assumed as you made your way down the hall peeking through the small hole to see who’s out there and to your surprise it was a woman. 

“Hi, how can I help you?” She looks at you a bit taken aback.

“Does John Price live here?” She asks as her blonde hair blows in the cold breeze. 

“Yeah?” 

“I need to speak to him.”

“Okay I’ll be right back.” Was this a lover of John’s, maybe an ex wife or something. You knock softly at his door and nothing so you knock a little louder. Before you hear a grunt and the squeak of the hardwood floors.

“Morning, y’alright?” He asks with a deep sleepy voice. 

You take notice of His messy hair and pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips so you practically beg and will yourself to not look at his body. 

“Yeah sorry there’s a woman at the door for you.” You reply smiling when you notice the sleep marks on the side of his face. 

“Oh okay let me just put a shirt on, tell her I’ll be right out.” He can already guess who it is and quietly curses to himself. No peace of his ever lasted long.

You relay the message to her and offer her to come inside which she politely accepts but goes no further than the entrance. 

“I’m Kate by the way.” She offers her hand to you. 

“Oh nice to meet you Kate, are you a friend of John’s?” You pry.

“Oh yeah, a longtime one.” You should’ve known.

“We’ve been working together since he was a lieutenant and that was ages ago.” She laughs and you feel light with relief for whatever reason.

“Laswell.” A deep voice sighs out from behind her.

“Well don’t be too excited to see me.” She says to him.

You get the message to exit the room and do so. He walks with her to the kitchen, offers her a drink then they both go to his office and from the sound of it have a pretty heated conversation. Not that you were eavesdropping or anything.

———-

It was hours before she left and when she did John didn’t seem too happy. You walk to the door a bit after you hear it shut. John stands there running a hand through his hair.

“You okay?” You stupidly ask as he rubs his forehead still standing in front of the door although she left 10 minutes ago.

“Yeah doll I’m alright.” He sounds tired and bothered. 

“Okay.” You begin to turn around getting the feeling he doesn’t want you there. 

“Wait, actually I have to leave tomorrow for a while..” He replies quickly. 

“Oh.” You try not to sound too disappointed.

“I’ll leave you a check for six months, if I’m gone longer my checkbook is in the bedside drawer. If you need assistance with anything I have a friend you can call please don’t do it yourself or have someone else do it.” He says as you stand there not getting past the eight month part.

“Six months or longer?” He meets your eyes seeing a hint of sadness.

“Yeah that’s what I can expect.” You suck your bottom lip between your teeth for a second not really knowing how to reply. 

“Are you hungry?” 

“What?” He replies at the random change in topic.

“Would you like to order too much food and watch a movie?” You ask again.

“Sure?” 

“I mean if you’re leaving for months and you seem upset about it then it’s serious and when’s the next time you’ll eat good food, you know?” You explain.

“Italian?” 

“Italian.” 

——————-

You both sit on the living room couch in the dim ambient light while “How to lose a guy in 10 days” plays on the TV, your choice. Empty boxes once filled with pasta and bread now are mostly empty. You tell John every time one of your favorite parts is coming on but not like you even needed to. He can tell by the anxious shake of your foot and slightly raised eyebrow.

“So does he ever find out that it’s for the em magazine and does she find out it’s for a bet?” He asks midway through the movie.

“You’ll have to watch it.” You whisper.

He laughs and for a moment in time he feels content, at ease for once. He feels like this is the moment he’ll recall in the next eight months when nights are cold and he’s spent. 

Your eyes are drifting closed before the movie is over and he watches you find sleep then returns his attention to the tv determined to finish the movie. Once all is done he picks the containers up off the floor quietly and turns the tv off kneeling to the floor to wake you.

“Doll let’s get you to bed.” He whispers in the dark. You're slightly disappointed you fell asleep but your drowsy mind doesn’t let you think too deeply as you bid him a goodnight and head to bed.

————-

The next morning he was ready to leave at 4AM. Big duffel bag in hand and a backpack. He thinks of waking you to say goodbye and even walks to your door. But he doesn’t not because he doesn’t want to but because he won’t want to leave if he does. Internally he curses himself for wasting so much time avoiding you the previous weeks. 

So he writes a quick note and of course the promised check and heads on his way.

—————-

Next chapter is already written and I’m so excited at the build up!!

Comments and reposts are always appreciated<3

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic

[r1elle]

for my peace of mind i want to live in the belief that miya atsumu has AT LEASTTTT got to be a candidate in the “pretending to be nonchalant but horrendously failing at it” trope.

like can you just imagine ..

a just freshly out of the change room miya atsumu, —who, by the way, has his brothers clothes on. (he wants to make a cool impression, and unfortunately, it’s his brother who always has the better outfit choices between the both of them. though he’d rather die than admit it.) anywho, he’s outside of the gym on standby to see if you had already walked past the building at your usual time. (he knows because he’s timed it.)

and when he realizes you already did, and that he had missed to take advantage of that one time slot in your routine, he’s BUMMED. he’s bummed out like a bum in bum central. but it happens as much as it doesn’t, so he still can’t figure out why he’s so dejected whenever the outcome turns out to be the former. (maybe cause he’s just so in love with you like that ?? duh)

but anyway, cmon now. you really didn’t even stop by to see if you could catch a glimpse of him setting ?? serving ?? heck, even spiking ?!?! because he couldn’t care less whether or not you knew which position he played, or what move he often did on court—…okay, well, maybe he cared just a bit. but screw all that. he can just tell you all about it when he’s finally able to call you his ! because what’s most important right now, is you seeing him during the times when he looks his “absolute coolest”.

but goodness gracious you should see the complete 360 his expression does when he sees you laughing along with your friends near the vending machine, indicating you hadn’t fully left just yet. he’s basically grown dog ears, and they’re raised HIGHH. osamu just wants to throw up, especially even more so as he sees heart eyes practically being etched onto his twin brothers dna, and he could only hope it wouldn’t apply to him as well.

with this profound opportunity, atsumu suggests that maybe they should buy something from the vending machine using their remaining coins. (“their” as in osamu’s. atsumu has .99 to spare, but he thinks he’ll save it for another day. perhaps to buy you those 50 cent candies at the nearby 7/11?).

“i’m thirsty. are ya not? c’mon. let’s use ‘em remainin’ cents.” though, anyone can see that it wasn’t a suggestion. it was a demand. (atsumu has never loved the “i was born 5 minutes before you.” card so hard in his entire life.)

osamu can’t help but feel the obvious desperation radiating off of his brothers anticipating expression, so he feels bad and says yes. atsumu internally thanks his brother, thinking that maybe telling him that ‘he should’ve ate him in the womb’ a couple of days ago was a bit mean.

but now that he’s infront of you, what should he do? the boy can physically feel his critical thinking skills melting away.

and so, with little time to actually prepare, he settles on nodding his head towards yours as a greeting (? if it can even be called a greeting), avoiding eye contact as he poorly executes his cowardly advances. he internally wallows in doing so, because that was NOT what he wanted to do. gosh….why couldn’t he be as smooth as he was on court ?!?! what he wanted to do was,—

“hey,” [add in a lazy but still oozing with confidence expression. whatever looks nonchalant and cool!] “want this? i was gonna buy one for myself,” [handing off his coins with one hand while his other one goes off to casually brush his blond hair to the side,] “but eh. dun’ really want it. take it, if ya’ want.” [finishing off with a low-key but proud sniff as he shoves his hands onto his pockets.]

but no. that was not what had happened. at all.

instead, he’s now completely focused over to the vending machine, his eyes directly staring onto the drink he had caught glimpse of you already drinking. (how could he not? it was the whole reason his plan backfired.)

well. at least he was able to give out a (puny) nod at you.

before he could even do anything else to salvage this already weak pursuit of his, atsumu hears you and your friends’ conversation exit out of his earshot. assuming that you were now further away from him, his knees seem to find themselves giving in.

one may think it was due to the exercises coach had given for todays practice.

but miya atsumu is a star volleyball player who yields the magic of ‘athleticism’. so surely, the runs up the mountain during todays agenda should hardly be the reason of any damage caused on the blonds already well maintained physique.

and surely,

heated cheeks, rapid beating of the heart, growing sense of frustration, and a yearning for some sort of impactful interaction with you..

wouldn’t qualify as side effects of hard practice, right?

“stop leanin’ on the vending machine like that, ya’ idiot.” osamu snidely comments, and his ‘face-mushed-to-the-vending-machine’ twin brother can only groan in response.

——

the walk back home is surprisingly quiet, until a low grumble decides to finally greet the silence.

“i was supposed to talk to her.”

“maybe that lame nod told her all that ya’ needed to say.”

“it ain’t my fault she already had a drink in her hand!”

“yeah, yeah. sure. ya’ still looked lame, though. i almost felt bad.”

“shut up! ya’ don’t know what it’s like to be a man in love!”

“…..….”

a silence.

a silence from atsumu who’s now just truly realized how doomed he was.

a silence from osamu who wonders if the person behind them had heard atsumu’s rather flamboyant confession.

“love, huh? didn’t know you were that deep into her.”

“ARRRRRRVHHHHGGGGGGGGGH! SHUT YER’ TRAP, SAMU’!! I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHIN’ !!!”

and of course,

a silence from you, who couldn’t help but just take the longer way back home, all because it meant getting to walk a few steps behind him. (even if he had always failed to notice you doing so, every. single. time.)

i was thinking of ryu sunjae from lovely runner while making this … i hope most ppl will see the vision 💔💔 I JUST LOVE LOSER MEN WHO JUST LOVE THEIR PARTNERS SO VERY MUCH !!!!

[love-bitesx]

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

[royalarchivist]

YD: Ahh, so adorable. I recorded some stuff, like them trying yukke. [Reading chat] Right? I was flabbergasted when I heard his age! I didn’t know that he was… 20 years old??? He was also shocked when I told him my age. I don’t really ask their ages when I’m talking to foreigners, we’re just friends, ‘cause they don’t have distinct honorific and informal languages like we do. And he guessed I was like, 23? [Laughs] I laughed my ass off.

YD: These kids are polite. They seem very polite, don’t they? Especially after hearing how old I am. It feels like they’re saying, “Yes ma’am, it’s very delightful.” So cute, and they seemed like they really enjoyed their meal.

YD talked about meeting up with Tubbo while he was in Korea and shares two videos of them eating food at a Korean BBQ place!

MASSIVE thank you to @Forgetmelotz on Twitter, who translated and subtitled this video and gave me permission to share it on Tumblr! Please make sure to give the original video a like.

[Full Video and Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

—

⚠️ This transcript is VERY LONG! ⚠️

—

YD: So I was planning to have a dinner with Kei [a Kpop Idol / Singer], but unexpectedly, there's a foreigner friend I met on QSMP named Tubbo, he's from the UK, and apparently he's visiting Korea. And he posted an Instagram story about it. I saw it and was like "Wait, are you coming to Korea?" and it [Tubbo's post] even says Korea blah blah within the date two days after my birthday. So I sent him a DM and he responded with "Haven't you seen my Twitter DM?"

YD: I recently distanced myself a little from Instagram and Twitter for a while, yeah I didn't check my phone that often, and it turns out he messaged me about 3 - 4 days ago saying "YD, I'm flying to Korea! Blah blah–" so I was like "Oh, oh... I'm sorry I didn't see that!" and I checked the DM the day before he arrived here... I told him that I am so sorry and asked if I can meet him in person.

* [Translation note: this can also mean the other way around, ie: he may have asked her if they could meet in person]

YD: So we ended up seeing [each other] on the 21st. I was supposed to have dinner with Kei, so I told her "but my friend from abroad... is in Korea now... what should I do..." and we rescheduled the dinner to inviting her to come over next week. So um, the, right– Tubbo, Tubbo's friend [Eryn], Seoneng [one of YD's crew members] and Kang-si [YD's husband] the 5 of us had dinner together.

YD: We went to a Korean BBQ place. I was searching through restaurants thinking “Uh… which Korean restaurant should I take these foreigners to so that they would be super impressed?” [YD thanks a dono] Yeah, I was searching hard and so I asked Ryeori. You know the Kwak tori & Ryeori couple? Ryeori the hair designer, I asked him, “Reyori, I’m trying to buy a dinner for my foreigner friend, do you have any recommendations for where I should bring him?” and he started listing up like Michelin star-rated pork gukbap restaurants and stuff. Then he also tells me that it’s really difficult to find an actual Korean restaurant in Hongdae, like it’s difficult to find a decent place. There are mostly fusion Korean food [places]. But then he goes, “Oh, hey, this place looks fine” and recommends me this Korean BBQ restaurant. I decided to bring them there and fed them.

YD: The reason I liked that place was that they sell doenjang-jjigabe, galbi-tang, jeyuk bokkeum, and other dishes as well as their main menu, the beef KBBQ. The banchans [side dishes] were also served neatly, they even had japchae, they sold yukke. Obviously there are better Korean restaurants outside of Hongdae, but their hotel was located there. It wasn’t like he had a car here, so I was trying to meet them somewhere they can just walk to. So Hongdae it was. On top of that, YD 4-cuts is also located in Hongdae.** So I thought it would be the best to just eat out here. And while we were eating, I’ve recorded some videos.

** [Note: This is a photo booth event with custom YD frames, as show in the background of this video]

YD: [Scrolls through to find the videos and laughs] Ahh, so adorable. I recorded some stuff, like them trying yukke. [Reading chat] Right? I was flabbergasted when I heard his age! I didn’t know that he was… 20 years old??? He was also shocked when I told him my age. I don’t really ask their ages when I’m talking to foreigners, we’re just friends, ‘cause they don’t have distinct honorific and informal languages like we do. [She thanks another dono] And he guessed I was like, 23? [Laughs] I laughed my ass off.

[YD plays a video she took of Tubbo and Eryn at the restaurant]

Tubbo: Oh, ok. [?]: You should tell them how to eat it together.  Tubbo: You’re overestimating my chopstick skill.  [?]: Here. [Passes Tubbo some of the meat]  Tubbo: Oh, thank you. [?]: And here, together. Tubbo: Ok. [Takes a bite] Waitress: With this vegetable. Tubbo: Mm, it’s really sweet! [?]: Foreigners quite like it. Eryn: [Reaches over and tries some food too, struggling a bit with his chopsticks] [?]: Unexpected, right? [?]: Oh, they like yukke? [?]: They just need to get used to it. Waitress: I will grill and hand it over to you, so please help yourselves. [?]: Ok, thank you. Eryn: [Tries more food and gives it a thumbs-up] [?]: Hm, good?! Tubbo and Eryn: Yeah! Tubbo: So far 10/10.

[The video ends]

YD: These kids are polite. They seem very polite, don’t they? Especially after hearing how old I am. It feels like they’re saying, “Yes ma’am, it’s very delightful.” So cute, and they seemed like they really enjoyed their meal. They were eating it up. They drank soju, they ate some noodles, and even doenjang-jjigae. I’ve heard foreigners don’t really like the taste of doenjang-jjigae, but they ate pretty much [all] of it. The restaurant also had pot rice, so I made them try that too. They ate that well too.

[YD plays the second video she recorded of them at the restaurant]

Tubbo: Go crazy ok, yeah! Alright.

YD: We ordered naengmyeon for a palate cleanser too. We ordered a lot.

Tubbo: [Struggles to cut the noodles with the scissors that were handed to him]

YD: He’s asking why we cut the noodles.

Tubbo: [Manages to cut the noodles] Kang-si [?]: Ok, and- and– [does chopstick motion] Tubbo: [Laughs] What am I gonna need?  Eryn: Chopsticks? Kang-si [?]: Yeah. YD [?]: Chopsticks, mm. Eryn: [To Tubbo] You go first. Tubbo: [Inaudible] Why is it cold? YD [?]: Oh, because the noodle is cold.

YD: Yeah, he found it interesting that the noodle is cold.

Tubbo: [He struggles with his chopsticks] Oh no, oh no… [Everyone laughs] Kang-si [?]: Very difficult. Ok! Tubbo: [Manages to fish some noodles out and holds his hand under them so they don’t splash everywhere as he transports them to his bowl] Seoneng [?]: Oh, uh, oh! It might be difficult for them to eat that. YD [?]: Hm? Kang-si [?]: Do you want some, Seoneng? Gimme the chopsticks, I’ll share you some. Eryn: [To Tubbo] Slippery. How did you get it?  Kang-si [?]: I’ll give you some, hand me the chopsticks. Seoneng [?]: Can I hand you mine? Just a small amount, please.

YD: They mimicked how Kangseok [Kang-si, YD’s husband] handles the noodles. Like, picking up the noodles like this and moving it to your dish.

Tubbo: That’s why you’re better than me (?).

YD: That’s Seoneng.

Kang-si [?]: Here’s your chopsticks, Seoneng. Eryn: I think this is enough. YD [?]: Oh, he’s taking some to his dish. Seoneng [?]: He learned. Tubbo: Do you like, spin 'em? Seoneng [?]: Scissors? Kang-si [?]: Like– [He holds up his chopsticks and shows them how to do it. Ok. OK! Eryn: [Picks up only a few noodles, which dangle] Seoneng [?]: Good! Tubbo: Maybe I did- I did a sht job of cutting, I'm sorry. Eryn: That's ok. Doing good.

YD: It had a nice atmosphere.

Eryn: Bravo. Tubbo: Oh, thank you. YD [?]: The noodles might be a bit slippery for them to...

YD: They really struggled to pick the noodles up. They asked why we cut the noodles then proceeds to eat like that 'cuz it's too long.

YD [?]: Shall we cut it? Kang-si [?]: Eryn? [He leans forward and cuts Eryn's noodles with scissors]

YD: –So we had to cut it for him like he's a baby.

[Everyone laughs] Eryn: It kept on moving!

[The video ends]

YD: [Laughs] Ah, so cute. It was fun. So we tried various dishes together. And uh, UK– UK– both of them are from the UK, but they didn't know there is a viral series of British students trying Korean food,*** so I told them "Seeing how you react to unfamiliar foods, like... How do I put this? You were very polite trying these out, not making any weird disgusted noises (so you can go viral too)." They didn't refuse anything. Well, they also said that this was the best Korean food they had so far. They might've been just being polite, but still, you know, they were... Hmm, very neat? Yeah. I get why he's so popular.

*** [Note: YT: Korean Englishman]

YD: Anyways, it was a lot of fun. After the meal, I asked them if they wanted to go take a YD 4-cut with us, explaining this is a trending form of birthday event amongst fans of younger generations in Korea where they rent and run a photobooth for their YouTuber / CCs / Influencers. I asked "It's close from here, you wanna go?" and he said yes. That's how we ended up taking a group photo. It wasn't planned beforehand.

YD: We arrived there– [Laughs] I tried, I knew it closes at 10pm, so I tried to visit there around then (to avoid people). So we got there around 9:30? And my fans were sitting there waiting for me. As soon as they spot me they go, "Wooooooo!!! It's so good to see you in person!!!" ...then they started crying, which made Tubbo and Eryn panic a bit. They were like "Wow YD, u a superstar! Whoa." [Laughs]

YD: No, 'cuz I told them that there might be a few fans because it's my birthday event, and they were OK with it. Well, he's also a Youtuber, so he wouldn't be too unfamiliar with this kinda situation I figure. But even though I warned [him] about it, they seemed a bit surprised as people started SOBBING, so Kangseok evacuated them all. He told them, "Let's get out and try some salted butter rolls while she..." The boys leave and get bread, and I go have a short conversation with my fans, take photos, give autographs... [Laughs]

YD: It was a LOT of fun. It was a memorable day.

The original VOD can be found here (please note that the video is only available to VIP members of YD's channel).

Timestamp for this conversation: ~12:30 - 23:00

[blog-o-meter]

Room 5 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) escapes to a quaint little hotel by the beach for a few days. On the first night, she realizes that the hot guy in the neighboring room is a... loud guy, and she finds that she can't seem to escape him no matter where she goes.

warnings: 18+, voyeurism (auditory), self-masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v, cursing

required listening: 24 Hours by Sky Ferreira

word count: 17,415

a/n: sorry this one is so long (compared to my other fics), but I just had too much fun writing this one. I honestly could've gone writing more. If anything, I can just add on, but I think I wrapped a nice, little bow on this one. I hope you guys like it, and I would appreciate any and all feedback!! pls enjoy :)

reblogs and likes are appreciated and lets me know if you'd like to see more!

The boutique hotel looked absolutely adorable, white brick on the outside and only two stories — a tiny café and gift shop downstairs and the rooms up top, just steps away from the ocean. It sat between two tall condo buildings, which mostly housed an older crowd of out-of-state tourists.

I was in search of the perfect place for a weekend getaway, and this place seemed to check all the boxes. It wasn’t near any of the busy beach accesses where all of the rowdy high schoolers seemed to hang out at, and the pictures of the café seemed like it was straight out of an interior designer’s Pinterest board. This place, The Pearl, seemed perfect.

Actually, I had been looking forward to this weekend for a long while, having booked this trip about a month ago. Funnily enough, I lived just 30 minutes away from the beach but never had the time to just get away for a couple of days — until now.

After I checked in, I carried my weekend bag and backpack up the narrow staircase to the second floor, the wood creaking underneath my sandals. When I turned on the mid-level landing, that’s when I heard a second set of footsteps coming down from above. I turned my head up, my eyes falling on the drop-dead gorgeous man carefully shuffling down the steps.

Our shoulders brushed as I squeezed by with my luggage, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver that branched out from where our arms grazed.

“Sorry,” I whispered without missing a beat.

The guy smiled politely as he turned his head back, his big, brown eyes inviting, “You’re good.”

My heart skipped a beat hearing his warm, low voice. The stranger was ridiculously attractive, his muscles bulging out of the wife beater covering his torso, his tousled brown hair elegantly falling over his eyebrows. His smile, though, was what made my skin prickle — a wide, genuine grin that showed off his perfectly white teeth behind his pink lips.

I returned a polite smile, continuing my journey up the stairs before he could notice my blushing cheeks. When I arrived to the top of the landing, I saw that the second floor was T-shaped, the rooms in ascending order the further I walked down the hallway.

I turned the corner, immediately sensing the change in atmosphere compared to the row of rooms I had just passed. This section of the hallway seemed much more secluded, quiet, possibly because, indeed, it was in its own corner of the floor away from all the other rooms.

I passed by the one other door in the hall, reaching my room — 6 — at the end where a singular window accented the softly-lit hallway. Setting my bags down, I fumbled for my phone, scrolling through my text messages with the hotel manager for the code to my door. I appreciated the fact that the rooms had a code to enter instead of a plastic key card that I could lose in the sand.

As I input the code into the lock, the wooden staircases creaked as a set of footsteps became louder and louder making their way toward me. It was the same handsome man I had brushed shoulders with earlier, a backpack slung over his shoulder as he approached the only other door, room 5.

Our eyes met briefly, a flicker of recognition in his. “Good night, neighbor,” he said with a slight nod, that same smile that made my chest warm flashing across his face as he made his way inside his room, the heavy door falling closed behind him.

I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. What are the odds the hot guy and I were staying next to each other? 1 in 5 it seems.

Shaking off the butterflies fluttering around my stomach, I finished inputting the code and dragging my bags inside the freezing room, stopping to admire the details of what my hard-earned paycheck had managed to spoil me with. The room was quaint, a neutral island color palette — the large bathroom and queen-sized bed to my right and the 70” flatscreen tv and closet on the shared wall to my left, a built-in marble counter all along the bottom.

The bathroom was my favorite: an art-deco flair with hints of coastal influence. The full shower was astounding in the best way possible — a beautiful mosaic pattern along the whole wall, double shower heads on opposite ends, and with enough space to possibly fit maybe 5 people. I could literally walk about ten steps between the two shower heads.

I walked back out to the room, setting my bags on the counter and starting to unpack, not in any particular rush to venture outside. As I organized my stuff — bikinis, pajamas, toiletries — I turned on the tv, flipping through channels and settling on HBO, Black Swan playing a few minutes in.

Enthralled by the movie and remembering I had a few snacks in my backpack, I changed into my pajamas and dug out a box of Lady Godiva chocolates from my backpack, climbing into bed and stretching out my arms and legs, excited to start my weekend getaway.

At some point, I had drifted off with a chocolate in my hand only to be awoken by a sound. I didn’t know what it was at first, choosing to ignore it and keeping my eyes closed, hoping I’d drift back to sleep. But it persisted, and it wasn’t a sound I had expected to hear — a woman’s moans.

My eyes fluttered open, thinking it might’ve been coming from the tv. After all, Black Swan did have a sex scene. However, I found the tv to be off. Maybe I had forgotten I turned it off myself before drifting off to sleep. Then, a low, drawn-out groan rumbled through, clear as day.

Oh.

Oh.

My cheeks flushed, burning at the realization of what I was hearing. I mean, I know a boutique hotel might not have the same amenities as a more established hotel chain, but you’d think thicker walls would have been a forethought. How could somebody planning to open a hotel not have thicker walls?

Again, I heard the moaning, and there was only one other room in the hallway that they could be coming from — room 5, the hot guy. I sat up in bed, heart pounding as I processed what was happening in the room behind the tv. The sounds were so clear you’d think they were having sex in the hallway.

In fact, I thought just that. There was no way that was happening right? I walked up to my room door and carefully peeked my head out, finding the hallway empty.

I retreated back into my room, my heart racing. Any other person would’ve probably turned the tv back on, or put on some headphones, something to block out the sounds, but what I did, I couldn’t tell anyone else about. I stood frozen, listening. I listened past the rhythmic porn-like moaning of the faceless woman, instead focusing on the low rumble of the hot neighbor guy’s voice.

The closet that shared a wall with his room beckoned my name, tempting me to inch closer. Before I knew it, my bare feet were shuffling toward the closet door, quietly swinging it open. The space was small, just big enough to fit a luggage rack and a few hangers up top, but the rhythmic thumping and guttural groans just behind the plaster called out to me.

Carefully, I leaned over the luggage rack, pressing my cheek against the cold, white wall. Every sound was clearer now — the creak of the bed slowing to a stop, the huffing coming from my neighbor, and the yelps coming from the mysterious lady. I could even make out some words.

“Bend over,” my neighbor spoke, his voice deep and seductive.

My stomach twisted hearing him speak in such a commanding yet intimate manner. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a stranger so polite in passing could be so primal behind closed doors; though, wasn’t everyone?

“You’re so huge, Nicholas,” the mystery lady spoke back.

I know I shouldn’t have been listening, but I was just so enthralled. Did they know just how thin the walls are, assuming they’d block out most sound like I did? I couldn’t imagine someone knowing the walls were thin and still choosing to have sex, especially knowing there was an occupied room next door.

The plaster was cool under my cheek, refreshingly so as I could feel myself becoming warmer and warmer. The sounds of their erotic encounter seemed to vibrate through the wall, through me. Without noticing, I had squeezed my thighs together, my hand finding its way at the band of my pajama pants. As soon as I felt my fingertip slip under my underwear, I was jolted out of my trance. What was I doing?

Before I could feel any more guilty for lingering longer than I should’ve, I pulled myself away from the wall and scampered back toward the bed, choosing to ignore what was going beyond next door, my heart racing. Grabbing my headphones from my nightstand and slipping them on, I threw myself into the sheets and turned on my white noise playlist. But as much as I forced myself to focus on the therapeutic noise, my imagination wandered, picturing the faces my neighbor — Nicholas — might be making right now as he pleasured the woman accompanying him. Before I knew it, though, I had managed to fall asleep.

In the morning, I made my way down the staircase to the hotel’s tiny café, eager to start my day with a light, sweet breakfast. As I descended down the last few steps, I looked over to the sea of tables, hesitation in my heels as my eyes landed on Nicholas sitting by his lonesome as he enjoyed a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a beat-up book in the other.

Swallowing the thought of what I did, and listened to, last night, I walked past him and approached the café counter, the smell of warm croissants and muffins enveloping my nostrils, a temporary distraction that I was grateful to experience.

“Hi,” I politely smiled to the employee, “Can I just get an Italian crème croissant with a hot green tea, please?” I quietly asked, not wanting to interrupt the quiet, calm atmosphere for the patrons of the café. 

The barista nodded her head, inputting my order into the tablet register, “We’ll send it over to your table,” she smiled.

I slipped her the money for my breakfast, smiling, “Thank you so much,” and making my way through the slew of empty tables.

I settled in at the corner table on the opposite end of the room, wanting to be as far away from Nicholas as possible to avoid any awkward conversations. Though, I may have chosen the worst table for my plan, accidentally giving myself a clear, unobstructed view of Nicholas from across the room.

His hair was damp, not purposefully styled in any particular way but still somehow falling over his eyebrows in such a perfect manner. He wore a loose flannel with a few buttons loose, the shirt billowing open to tease just enough of the gold cross chain draping over the sculpted valley between his chest.

He hadn’t noticed me yet, completely enthralled by what he was reading — Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller. I was stunned by his choice of literature. There was an old fellow a few tables down reading the newspaper to get his local news, meanwhile this guy, Nicholas, was probably on some page where the author is describing, in excruciating honesty, a night he had with a prostitute just as easily as one could describe their morning routine. In a way, I was impressed, curious.

As I waited for my breakfast, fiddling with my fingers, occasionally looking at my phone, my eyes would glance over toward Nicholas, my gaze lingering just a beat too long. The way he achingly turned the page, the tip of his finger playing at the corner of the paper, or the way he’d carefully bring the mug of coffee up to his lips — it was all so titillating.

Thankfully, though, the barista came over with a small pot of piping hot tea and my croissant, interrupting my trance and carefully setting down the items in front of me. Just as she left, my eyes flickered up to Nicholas to find that he had glanced up from his book, a polite smirk at the corner of his lips when his eyes met mine, lifting his mug in a silent, “Cheers.”

Not sure if I should wave or say hi or flash a toothy smile, I settled for a polite closed-mouth smile, lifting my mug back at him before quickly focusing my attention to the food in front of me as my cheeks grew warm. The greeting wasn’t graceful at all, but how could I focus on being graceful knowing I eavesdropped on his privacy just last night? If I was awkward at all, I figured it was my subconscious trying to punish me.

I served myself some tea and picked at my croissant as I looked out the window to the occasional family or couple walking down the street, all carrying their beach items and taking their time to get to the sand. I’d even glance around to the other patrons at the café. Though, I think part of me wanted to see if any of the girls would join Nicholas at his table and reveal herself to be the high-pitched moaner from last night. However, nobody ever did join him. Was he here alone? Or maybe she had taken the morning to be by herself.

Every impulse in me was begging me to take just one more look at Nicholas, to savor his image one last time, but I fought it. Everything except anything in Nicholas’s direction became intriguing to me. The checkered tile on the ground, the promotional poster on the window that I could barely read because of the sunshine striking through it, the older fellow enjoying his newspaper — I didn’t think I’d find myself focusing on the details of such things trying to avoid the gaze of some guy I had talked to for no more than 10 seconds, maybe less.

When I finished up, I quietly tidied the table, collecting all of the dishes and brushing off any crumbs, making my way out of the café and toward my car.

The breeze was refreshing, a nice whisper against my cheeks. I opened the trunk, staring at all of the beach gear I had to carry by myself. It was a struggle, but I managed to carry everything in both my arms — umbrella, picnic, basket, beach chair, headphones, blanket — using every crevice of my upper body to anchor something to me so it wouldn’t fall on the way over.

Thankfully, the beach access was right next to the hotel, and the path to the open sand wasn’t too long. When I got to the end of the path, I was grateful for having woken up early for the opportunity to pick a spot in an otherwise empty beach, a few umbrellas and chairs here and there from the condo occupants. I chose a spot that didn’t have any people too close by for maximum relaxation, carefully setting everything down on the sand.

I stabbed my pink, frilly cabana umbrella into the ground, laying out my beach blanket and beach chair in the shade, sliding everything else onto the corners of the blanket so the breeze wouldn’t pick the fabric up and blow sand toward me.

The water was calling my name, the light green water perfectly sparkling against the morning sun. But before I could strip my clothes off and jump in, I looked around to see if anybody would be looking as I pulled off my clothes. I didn’t see anybody particularly interested in my arrival, so I quickly pulled off my jean shorts and tee to reveal my glittery brown bikini set underneath. Before I became too hyper aware of my body, I walked toward the water, instead letting the feeling wash over me just as the waves of deliciously cold seawater did.

The occasional squawk of seagulls, the sun warming up my skin as it rose higher and higher in the sky and the sound of the waves crashing was all perfect. This moment was all I wanted out of this weekend. No distractions, no work — just me and the ocean. Needless to say, I was very excited to be able to repeat this routine for the next couple of days. 

I continued walking into the water until I was chest-deep to let the ocean devour me whole. The feeling that a wave could crash over me entirely was exhilarating. The water slowly picked me up by my feet as I hopped around.

I lingered for a few more minutes in the water, splashing water around or searching for little fish before stepping back out once my fingers started to wrinkle. As I strutted out of the water, though, I saw the familiar shape of somebody relaxing in a chair just a few feet next to my umbrella — Nicholas.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, he was a guest in the hotel, too, after all. Why else would someone book a room in a hotel by the beach if they wouldn’t find themselves relaxing in the sand? But did he have to set up next to me when there was an entire football field of available space?

Meekly and careful not to trip or stumble on the way over, I walked toward my umbrella, fighting the urge to steal a glance at Nicholas, but from the corner of my eye I could see he sat there with his chest exposed. I had to let myself give in; what was the harm in a little peek?

He sat reclined in his chair, his skin deliciously glistening under the killer sun as he took it in. His hair was lightly brushing across his face from the sea breeze, like Mother Nature herself was playing with his hair. Nicholas’s long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet digging slightly into the sand. Both hands rested lazily on the arm of the chair, open. It was like he wanted to take up as much space as he could. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes; I couldn’t tell where he was looking or if he was looking anywhere at all. He radiated a kind of tranquility, as if the ocean had washed away any burdens he carried, something I hoped to experience myself this weekend.

I realized I was staring, my breath caught somewhere between awe and curiosity. I darted my eyes away, afraid I might be caught, which is absolutely the last thing I want.

Growing cold from the breeze brushing my wet skin, I grabbed my towel, drying myself off and squeezing the water out of my hair, mindful of turning myself from Nicholas so as to not flick any water droplets his way or have him think I was trying to grab his attention deliberately. Maybe he just sat there without knowing he had set up next to me. After all, I was in the water this entire time.

As I settled in, I brushed my wet hair over the back of my chair and reached for my picnic basket, pulling out my headphones, sunglasses, and my current read, White Oleander. I didn’t want to distract myself with any energetic music, instead opting to listen to the White Oleander movie soundtrack for the perfect accompaniment to the book.

I read through the chapter I had left off in, but I found myself having to reread some paragraphs, even entire pages, every time I saw Nicholas shift in his seat from the corner of my eye every few seconds. Even the way he jittered his knee up and down was distracting, almost like he wanted to grab my attention. After some minutes, he stood up from his chair, letting out a groan as he slowly stretched his arms and walked toward the water, and I silently thanked the universe for finally letting me have a few minutes to myself.

Though, I couldn’t help but occasionally glance up from my book to observe Nicholas in the water. The sun accentuated his muscles in an almost picturesque way, the stark shadow falling under each crevice of his body perfectly. He cut through the water like a knife as he walked deeper and deeper in the water, splashing water over his chest and shoulders, eventually dipping himself under the water to wet his hair. When he reemerged, the surface broke with a powerful splash, Nicholas throwing his head back and brushing his hair back with his hands.

Shaking myself out of Nicholas’s trance, I buried myself back in my book, trying not to look back up to him and letting myself get lost in the story, and for a while, I did. However, the universe seemed to like playing cruel jokes. About two chapters later, a shadow crossed my face. Curious to know if it was a bird or somebody’s umbrella flying away, I looked up to find Nicholas standing in front of me with a small grin.

“Good book?” He asked, drying his hair with a towel.

Shocked, I almost couldn’t form any words, but I managed to spit out a normal-sounding sentence, “Uh, so far, yeah, but I’m more familiar with the movie.”

“I’ve never seen it,” he confessed, dragging the towel up and down his dripping torso, almost deliberately. “Do you recommend it?”

I was quiet first, trying to clear my head of any thoughts of the night before that kept replaying in my mind. My eyes drifted up from his torso to the smile on his face, his straight white teeth in full show. Thank god I had my sunglasses on

“Totally. The dialogue in that movie is…” I trilled my lips, searching for the right word, “poignant.”

“Sounds raw,” he threw the towel over his shoulder, resting his hands on his hips, his lat muscles flexing outward like wings. “Is it your favorite movie?” He asked as he sat down in his chair, shifting until he found a comfortable position.

“One of,” I replied, turning my head to face him.

“I’ll check it out then,” he smiled, grabbing Tropic of Cancer out from under his chair and spreading it open.

“There’s a movie on that one, too,” I pointed to the book in his hands.

“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow, looking at the cover of the paperback, like he had forgotten what book he was reading. But then, a cheeky grin grew on his lips, “Did you like it?”

I couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle, knowing what Nicholas had meant. “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen it,” I smiled, turning my head back to the book in my hands, having almost forgotten about it.

All I heard back from him was a quiet chuckle before he settled back into his chair, the both of us reading their respective books.

After a half hour, I tossed the book and my sunglasses back into the basket and walked out over to the water. I paused at the dry edge of the sand, letting the water nip at my toes, trying not to picture Nicholas behind me. He could have been glancing at me as I made my way over, but he could also be looking at the sky, or the book in his hands, or maybe even his phone. As much as I wanted to peek over my shoulder, I continued forward, letting the sea swallow me.

I lingered, brushing my fingertips over the surface as I planted myself in knee-deep water, clutching the sand underneath my toes as it dissolved under me. As the water hugged my calves, I searched the water for anything I could find — maybe a lost pair of sunglasses, some little fishes, or maybe a conch laying at the bottom of the ocean floor. To no avail, I slowly started to retreat from the water, picking my head up to find Nicholas was looking forward, hiding behind his sunglasses again.

I didn’t let the fact he was looking over to my direction affect my ability to walk properly. After all, he could be looking past me. Maybe under those sunglasses he had his eyes closed. I wouldn’t know. However plausible any of those situations were, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Upon approaching my chair, I wrapped myself in the damp towel, deciding that my time at the beach for today would be over for now. Slowly, I started to pack up my things, but I honestly didn’t know how I was gonna carry everything back now that I was damp and shivering. I tried juggling some of the things in my arms, but occasionally something would slip from my grasp. I really tried not to seem so helpless, but when the umbrella slipped out from under my arms with a loud thump, I knew keeping up that ruse wouldn’t work.

“Need help?” I heard Nicholas’s voice behind me.

I turned around, catching him push his sunglasses to the top of his head to show off his crinkled eyes, smiling. It seemed to be more from amusement at watching me struggle, not smiling from politeness.

I struggled to hold onto everything in my arms, “No,” I shook my head, laughing nervously. “I mean, I managed to bring everything over in the morning.”

An exhale escaped his lips before he tossed the book to the sand and stood up from his chair, making his way over with a satisfied look, “Let me help.”

I bit my lip, debating if I should let him help or to just push him away so I wouldn’t have that constant reminder of hearing him have sex in my head. Before I could answer, though, Nicholas grabbed the beach chair out from under my arm and picked the umbrella up off the floor.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I adjusted the remaining items in my arms, now much more manageable without having to carry the bigger things.

“No problem,” he spoke in a low tone, that same tone I overheard when he said ‘Bend over’ to the woman in his bed last night.

My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, I felt inexplicably warm, like the back of my neck was on fire. His expression was soft, casual, like the same man I had run into in the hallway yesterday, not at all like the man I heard in his room in a false sense of privacy.

We walked back toward the hotel, the sand kicking up behind us with every step. I was too afraid to say anything to him at all after remembering the way he spoke to his late night companion.

“So, are you from around here?” He spoke up, his voice cutting the tension that only I seemed to be aware of.

“Kind of,” I replied, hiding my face behind my damp hair, “I live 30 minutes out. I just came here on a solo-trip for a few days to escape. You?” I didn’t expect the question to slip from my lips, but in a way, I guess, I wanted to coax information out of him. Maybe if I knew more about him, that pang of guilt in my stomach would leave on its own.

He stifled a chuckle, “Not at all. I’m from Colorado, actually.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised at the answer, “Wouldn’t California beaches be closer to you, maybe even look better than this old shore?” I looked back out into the beach, admiring its charm, but even then, I know it wouldn’t compare to a California beach.

“Actually, I live in LA, so I go out there all the time. I guess, I just wanted to visit a different place,” he answered.

I was surprised at his honesty, but I scoffed, not believing that any person from out of town would want to come here willingly, “Well, you picked a different place, indeed. Not much goes on around here, except when it’s spring break.”

Nicholas stifled a warm chuckle, “Yeah, I think I read that online.”

A part of me wanted to prod. Was he single? Who was that girl from last night? Another guest? The only appropriate question that I could think of that didn’t sound too suspicious was, “Are you here on a solo-trip, too?”

He nodded his head, “Yeah, I do a lot of solo travel. There’s a certain freedom in not having to worry about anyone else except yourself.”

I glanced over to him and saw a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he looked over to me. Something fluttered in my chest, or maybe it was just the droplets of water trailing down from my head.

“Sounds liberating,” I managed to spurt out before the long pause became too awkward.

“It is, but sometimes it’s nice to share it with someone else, even for a little bit,” he said, his words hanging in the air.

I didn’t dare reply. I wasn’t sure if he was alluding to our current moment or maybe to the similar encounters of last night he has with women during his trips. Of course, there’s no way he’d know that I knew what he did behind closed doors, but what if he did?

“Yeah,” I absentmindedly agreed to his statement, eager to cut the conversation short.

We arrived at my car. I opened the trunk with my keys that were in my picnic basket, watching as Nicholas bent over to place the umbrella and chair inside, then grabbing everything from my arms and setting them beside each other, closing the trunk.

“My name’s Nicholas,” he held his hand out for me to shake.

That’s when I realized that he had never introduced himself. The only reason I knew his name was because I had my ear pressed against the wall just as his lady friend from last night had moaned it out of her lips.

I hesitated for just a fraction of a second before breaking through that one-sided tension and reaching out to shake his hand, his warm palm sending a shiver up my arm, “(Y/N),” I introduced myself, meeting his gaze for a second or two before looking down at my feet.

“Pretty name,” he smiled.

Blushing, I shyly said, “Thanks,” retreating my hand from his grasp and whipping back a strand of wet hair behind me.

Nicholas lingered a moment longer, the soft curve of his smile inviting me to hold his gaze. “Any chance you’d wanna get a drink later?”

I blinked, my mind scrambling for a response as the question hung between us. This stranger, Nicholas, was never meant to be more than just some nameless blur that happened to also be a guest at the same hotel I was staying. We were only supposed to bump into each other a few times in the hallway, never going into conversation and being fine with that. Now, here he was, asking me if I wanted to have a drink with him.

I kicked my feet nervously, looking down, afraid to look him in the eye as I turned down his offer, “Actually, I have plans.”

His brow lifted slightly, an amused look on his face. “Solo plans?” he asked, clearly poking fun at my earlier words.

I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, despite my nerves. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Fair enough,” he said, his tone casual but with a glimmer of understanding. “But if you change your mind…” he leaned in the tiniest bit, some tiny droplets from his hair dripping onto my skin, “you know where I’m staying,” a mischievous smirk at the end of his lips.

I felt my stomach jump at his words, catching the double meaning. He lingered a bit too long, like he was testing me, before he pulled back, still smirking.

I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

I watched as he walked past, sauntering back toward the beach. The way his shoulders shifted as he walked, relaxed yet deliberate, made it impossible to look away. The nerve of him, the audacity to be this calm, this magnetic. Maybe it’s because I’m never forward with people I just met, especially if I think they’re attractive, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the swagger Nicholas oozed. It was like he was aware of the effect he had on me.

Desperate to wash away the sand in my crevices, I trotted toward the hotel entrance, going up the stairway and to my room. I felt relief when the cold air of the room hit my face, pulling my hair away from the back of my neck so the air could creep its way and bring some relief to my flustered self. My head buzzed, replaying anything having to do with Nicholas — the way he dried his towel in front of me, his soft chuckles, even the way he walked.

Get it together, (Y/N). He’s just a guy. Just a guy you won’t see ever again after this weekend. Ever.

I sighed, dragging myself to the shower and stripping the wet bikini off my body and letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.

I was grateful the shower was huge, that way I didn’t feel as suffocated with the warm water steaming up the glass. However, each time I closed my eyes to let the water fall on my face, all I could picture was Nicholas’s charming smile, all I could hear in my head was the way he said ‘Bend over’ to the girl in his bed last night, and suddenly, I could feel a tension pool low in my belly.

Fed up, I turned the faucet knob to cold, shuddering and gasping loudly the moment it fell down my spine. It might’ve been drastic, but it did help. All I could focus on was trying not to tremble under the cold stream of water enveloping me instead of focusing on a certain man.

Once I was done with my shower, I wrapped my hair and body in a towel each, padding out into the cold room, my ankles shuddering at the cold floor beneath me. I changed into a casual set of clothes, thinking I’d probably go out for a walk later. As I dried my hair with the towel, I made my way over to the window, looking out toward the beach to see Nicholas still lounging out in the sand. He was splayed out on the chair, legs wide open as he leaned back and looked out into the water.

Tired of my mind drifting to him, I jumped into bed and put on my headphones, opening up Hulu to catch up on shows. Before I knew it, hours had gone by and it had become nightfall.

I walked to my luggage resting on the built-in counter, zipping it open to pull out a bag of chips I had bought before arriving. That’s when I heard a light knock on my door. I froze at the sound, too scared to shuffle over and check who it was.

“(Y/N), you there?” I heard Nicholas’s voice call out. I didn’t answer, standing still, my heart almost pounding out of my chest. “If you are, I’m heading over to the bar across the street, if you wanna join me,” he calmly spoke through the door, his voice cool and collected.

After a bit, I heard his feet shuffle away, becoming fainter and fainter. I still didn’t dare move an inch, paranoid he might’ve pulled a fake-out and is actually still standing outside my door. I sat on the counter, debating his invitation, but I decided against it. I’m not exactly sure why; any other girl would already have been out the door by now. I just had to trust my gut on this.

Later that night, at about 1:30AM, I found myself still awake, quietly scrolling Instagram on my phone. That’s when I heard the loud giggles of a woman outside in the hall, followed by a deep shush, the giggles falling to a quiet mumble as I heard a door open and quickly fall closed. I ignored the sounds, continuing to scroll and catch up on posts I missed during the day.

Some minutes pass by, about 10. That’s when I heard the bed on the other side begin to thump against the wall, a lady slowly starting to moan. The moans sounded different, belonging to another woman. Then, the all-too-familiar grunts coming from Nicholas started to join in.

I couldn’t reach for my headphones to drown out the sounds of sex coming from the other side; my headphones had died just 30 minutes earlier, now charging on the outlet above the counter. Tossing and turning in bed, I burrowed myself under the covers, hoping it would make some barrier, but to no avail.

Irritated, I walked over to the counter, checking to see if my headphones had any juice that I could use even for just a few minutes until I fell asleep. Just as I reached to disconnect them from their charger, that’s when I heard Nicholas’s voice rumble through the wall.

“You’re so hot,” he said, his tone thick with pleasure.

I stood there frozen, my hand still hovering over my headphones. The more I heard Nicholas speak, the more I found myself inching closer toward the closet. My heart was racing, beating faster the moment I opened the closet doors, carefully stepping inside and resting my cheek against the shared wall.

I knew I shouldn’t have been listening in, again, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was this urge that I had to follow through with. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening past the girly moans and searching for Nicholas’s voice. My chest grew tighter, my thoughts beginning to spiral.

“Just like that,” he growled.

Had I said yes to drinks, would that have been me in there? Would I be the one moaning under him instead of the mystery girl inside? My stomach tightened at the thought, frustrated. I’m not sure why I was letting it get to me like that. Maybe because hindsight is always twenty-twenty. But just knowing that it might’ve been me Nicholas said all those things to had I just agreed to drinks… It drove me crazy.

“Say my name.”

My body tensed at his words. Somewhere between spiraling and intrigued by the events happening on the other side, I had closed my eyes, achingly moving my hand to my shorts, slipping it under the waistband. What if I just pretended it was me he was saying all those things to?

I clenched my teeth, feeling a heat bubbling low in my belly as it slowly rose up to my chest. The sound of Nicholas’s voice; he sounded so close yet we were separated by this thin wall. It was maddening. I slipped my fingers under my underwear, grazing them over my damp self. I covered my mouth with my other hand, proactive about not wanting to be heard from the other side just as I heard them.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Nicholas groaned on the other side.

My breathing became deep, my nostrils pushing out all the air that couldn’t leave my mouth. As my fingers found my throbbing bud, I quietly whimpered out, pretending Nicholas was saying those words to me. I rubbed myself in small circles, bucking my hips into my fingers.

On the opposite side of the wall, Nicholas’s groaning had become guttural, primal. The more the headboard thumped against the shared wall, the more powerful his movements had become. At one point, I thought something might fall off the wall from my side of the room.

As I slipped a finger, then another, inside myself, my breathing became erratic. I imagined Nicholas taking me, right now as I am, hard at the thought that I had been listening in on his sexual escapades. Maybe he’d push me up against the wall, cornering me so that I might not escape him. He seems like the type to want to be in control, and I’d be happy to give it to him.

I pumped my fingers slowly, at first, but then picked up the speed to match the thumping on the wall. The tension in me began to build tighter and tighter. I was so close to collapsing in pleasure, but the moment I heard a loud moan escape the woman’s lips from the other side, I was taken out of my imagination completely, remembering that it wasn’t me he was having sex with.

My eyes ripped open, realizing what I had been doing. I pulled my fingers out and collected myself, shamefully walking out of the closet and reaching for the headphones on the counter. I couldn’t believe that I had been pleasuring myself to the sounds of somebody else having sex. Even more embarrassingly so, I didn’t even arrive to a climax, so I couldn’t even say it was worth it.

I climbed back into bed, trying hard to ignore the sounds coming from the other side and slipping on my headphones, putting on anything that would distract my mind.

The next day, I didn’t wake up as early as I had liked. I ended up falling asleep pretty late, almost 2:30 in the morning, which was not my usual bedtime, clearly. But it was 12PM, still enough time to enjoy a light brunch before officially starting the day.

I changed into some loose clothes, making my way down to the café. Even though I felt guilty about last night, I felt ok enough to confidently walk into the café knowing Nicholas wouldn’t be there. Either he’d be too tired from his late night drinking and stayed in, or he would’ve started his day earlier and already had his coffee for the day. And when I entered the area, I found myself to be correct. He wasn’t there.

Comfortably, I ordered the same meal from yesterday, a croissant and a pot of tea, taking my seat at the same table. What can I say, I’m a creature of habit. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Almost as soon as I sat down, the barista came over with my things, setting them down with a polite smile. Tired and hungry, I pulled a chunk out of the croissant and placed it into my mouth, savoring its sweet taste. I enjoyed my first meal of the day calmly and slowly, relaxed to know I wouldn’t bump into Nicholas right now. Maybe I’d have a few hours to myself before I did. But of course, my peace was short-lived.

As I picked at my food, the front door to the hotel chimed. I was too focused on pouring myself the last few ounces of tea into my mug to look up, but I didn’t have to. A familiar presence approached my table, “Mind if I join you?” Nicholas asked.

I looked up, my eyes locking onto his. He had that oh-so charming smile plastered on his face — innocent, as if he wasn’t the one partially responsible for keeping me up late.

“Sure,” I said, pulling the pot away from my mug.

He pulled up a chair from the neighboring table, sitting down across from me while his gaze flickered down at my half-eaten croissant. “You like taking your time, don’t you?”

I felt a rush of heat creeping up the back of my neck at his casual teasing. He was wearing a faded tee, not from age but one that looked like it had been drying out in the sun too long, his gold cross chain hidden under the collar. I’m sure he looked good in anything he wore.

“Don’t you?” I asked without missing a beat.

Nicholas stifled a smirk, tapping his finger against the table, “So what’d you do last night?”

I almost choked on my own spit at the question, clearing my throat. Dear god, please let me not stumble over my words. “Not much, why?”

He sharply inhaled, like he was unsure if he should answer, “I had knocked on your door to invite you out to the bar again, but you didn’t answer.”

I stifled a chuckle, shrugging my shoulders, “Why? Were you afraid I was doing something better?”

Nicholas’s fingers played at the edge of my plate, smirking. “I figured you were out walking or something,” he smiled.

“Well, I planned to,” I picked at my croissant, ripping off a tiny piece and placing it in my mouth, “but I ended up staying in.”

“Oh? You stayed in?” He shifted in his seat, thinking about his next words. “Sleeping?”

I calculated my answer. I didn’t want him to be embarrassed about the fact that I could hear him having sex the past two nights. “Yeah, early night,” I kept it short, hoping he’d drop the subject or, at least, change the topic.

I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but I didn’t care to elaborate. His presence was disarming enough without dredging up last night’s… intrusive thoughts. Instead, I took another sip of tea and focused on not meeting his gaze.

“So, then why’d you come down here so late in the morning?” He asked, a grin playing at his lips.

I stumbled on my words, trying to find an answer, Nicholas becoming more amused and entertained the more I stumbled. Was he waiting around for me? Did he know his proclivities had kept me up? Did he know I could hear through the walls?

“Lazy morning,” I shrugged my shoulders. He stifled a chuckle, accepting my answer without too much kickback. “What about you?” I asked, turning the tables on him. “What did you get up to last night?”

His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew sharper, and he leaned forward just slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Me? Nothing much,” his finger twiddled near my croissant, pushing around the tea spoon next to it, “I had a drink or two. A little company.” His eyes flickered up to meet mine.

I swallowed hard, the tension between us thickening. His choice of words hung in the air, deliberate and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing dangling that tidbit of information in front of me, seeing if I’d bite, but I wasn’t going to.

Taking a sip of my tea, I pretended to brush off his words, “Sounds like you had fun,” I spoke casually, keeping my expression neutral.

Nicholas tilted his head, watching me closely. “I would’ve had even more fun, but I had some plans fall through,” he paused, “I had to improvise.”

Oh, the calculation in his words were driving me mad, especially because I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of baiting a specific reaction out of me. Was I right? Could that have been me in his room last night if I decided to go out with him?

I set the cup down as calmly as I could manage, but inside, I was shaking, “Doesn’t seem like you had any trouble improvising, then.”

For a moment, Nicholas’s fingers stopped tapping against the plate, that infuriating smirk returning. He leaned back into his chair, amused, “You heard, didn’t you?“

My eyes nearly fell out of my head, but I tried to keep it cool, "Heard what?"

His laugh was soft but full of certainty. "Come on, (Y/N). I heard you watching a movie the other night. These walls,” he gestured lazily toward the ceiling, “are paper thin; it was like I was in your room watching it with you.” He leaned toward me, resting his arms on the table again, “That’s why you woke up late, isn’t it?"

God, I wanted to shrivel up and die right then and there. It was absolutely infuriating how he could figure me out so easily. But my suspicions were confirmed — he did know, this entire time, and he still decided to have loud sex knowing anybody in the neighboring room could hear. And he had no shame about it!

My face burned with embarrassment, and l avoided his gaze like my life depended on it. "I didn't hear anything," I stammered, lying so poorly I might as well have just admitted the truth. “I’m a deep sleeper.”

Nicholas tilted his head, that insufferable smirk deepening. “A deep sleeper, huh?” His voice dripped with amusement. He rested his chin in his palm as he studied me like I was some kind of puzzle. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

My grip tightened on the edge of the table, desperate to regain some semblance of control.

“For what it's worth...” Nicholas pushed back his chair and stood, smiling down at me. He leaned down toward me, his tone softening just enough to send a shiver down my spine. "If I'd known you were listening, I might've put on a better show." He took a small bite of my croissant, dusting the crumbs off his hands and making his way toward the door, winking at me before he exited.

Unable to fathom what had just happened, I stayed planted in my seat. Did he seriously just say that? My thoughts spiraled. Was this a game to him? Could he tell just how truly flustered I was by his teasing? Was I really that easy to rile up?

I pushed my plate and mug away from me, hoping to regain some space to avoid feeling suffocated by the remnants of his presence that Nicholas had left behind in his wake. And yet, I couldn’t deny the pull he had on me. No matter how hard I tried to push it down, to deny the heat in my cheeks and the butterflies in my stomach, it was there. Nicholas was under my skin.

I tried to avoid running into him the rest of the day, to suffocate him out of me like one would a parasite, but to know you’re avoiding someone, you’d have to be on the lookout, on your toes. Every corner I turned, I checked to see if he was there. Every room I entered, I scanned around looking for his distinct tousled hair. On the beach, I hid behind my sunglasses, scanning the shore for the familiar build of him. Finding him nowhere, I relaxed a bit, choosing to free myself and going for a short walk along the water.

I let the water lap around my ankles, rhythmically enveloping them as I slowly walked along the borderline empty beach. I picked up a few shells that caught my eye — only the colorful, unique ones. In fact, I kept walking, walking, and walking until it became evening, the sun setting over the beach, slowly but surely.

I returned to my spot, sitting back and admiring the colors of the sky. In fact, I was so relaxed, huddled under my towel, that I may have yawned once or twice. As I continued to look out into the horizon, I felt a cold tap on my shoulder, turning my head up to see who was interrupting my moment of relaxation. Of course, by now, I already knew who.

Nicholas stood there, towering over me with a pair of beers in his hand, holding one out for me. “Pretty, right?” He asked with a smile, looking out into the purple water.

I glanced at the beer in his outstretched hand before shifting my gaze to his face, the fading sunlight casting an orange glow over his sharp features. I kept my expression neutral, taking the beer from him without a word. He took that as an invitation to plop down in the space next to me, stretching his legs out and taking a sip from his can.

We sat there in silence for a while, the only sounds being the gentle crash of waves and the occasional chatter of distant beachgoers. It was… oddly peaceful, almost enough to make me forget about the tension that seemed to follow us — or should I say, me — like a shadow. Maybe, also, because I was a little sleepy.

“So, did you find what you were looking for today?” Nicholas asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You were walking up and down the beach for hours,” he said, motioning toward the small pile of shells I’d collected.

My mouth grew to a smile, cocky, “You were watching me for hours?”

For the first time, Nicholas stammered on his words, and it was a sight I was incredibly amused by. His head fell as he chuckled, maybe flustered that I had finally caught him in a moment instead of the other way around, “Yeah,” he nodded his head, his cheeks pink, “I was.”

I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips. Watching him falter, even slightly, was a rare treat, one I planned to savor. “I can see why you like pushing people’s buttons now.”

“I don’t like pushing people’s buttons,” he said as he brought the beer to his lips, “just yours.”

It was insane just how quickly Nicholas could turn something back onto you. The admission was so casual, yet it hit me like a rogue wave. I stared at him, half-expecting him to laugh or brush it off as a joke, but he simply leaned back on his hands, eyes on the horizon like he hadn’t just set my pulse racing.

“I’m sure you say that to all your company,” I turned to face the water, sipping on my beer and trying to hide my flushed cheeks. I chose my words carefully, wanting to see how’d he react.

Nicholas let out a low chuckle beside me. “I don’t,” he said simply, his voice drawing me in despite myself. “Only you.”

I stole a quick glance at him, but he was already looking ahead, the way his profile caught the last rays of the setting sun, casting long shadows across his features. There was something magnetic about him, and the more time I spent around him, the more I couldn’t ignore it. He was confident, teasing, but there was something underneath, something deeper that made it hard to read him completely.

A part of me wanted to challenge him, maybe even keep him on his toes. But there was another part of me, the part I kept hidden, that wanted to give in to the tension, to see where it could lead. My mind raced with the possibilities, each thought contradicting the last, until I was sure I was overthinking every moment, every word we exchanged.

I cleared my throat and shifted my position in the chair, facing toward him completely. “Indulge me. What makes me so different that you just can’t help but push my buttons?”

He smiled, like he had an answer prepared since the moment we met, “You don’t give in easily, but you seem like the type to give yourself completely once you do.”

Nicholas’s words lingered in the air, making my pulse quicken. It was strange how effortlessly he could unravel me with just a few words. I tried to maintain my composure, but the quiet between us seemed to stretch longer than I was comfortable with. His words felt like a challenge,  but also like a promise. My mind kept drifting back to the night before, to the sounds of him on the other side of the wall.

“I’m not so sure about that,” I replied, keeping my voice steady, though it didn’t quite mask the undercurrent of uncertainty I was feeling.

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he shifted closer. “Really? Because there’s only so much pressure somebody can take before they start to crack.”

I wanted to say something sharp, something that would put distance between us, but his confidence was suffocating, almost intoxicating. I couldn’t seem to gather the words to shut him down. So, instead, I took another long sip from my beer, pretending to focus on the view ahead of me, though my mind was anything but at ease.

His smile widened, “Aren’t you cracking?”

For a moment, it felt like time stopped. The world seemed to fade into the background, and it was just the two of us, sitting there in the fading sunlight, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the sudden weight of his words hanging between us.

I cleared my throat, finishing my beer, “I don’t think so,” I said lightly, trying to mask the effect his words had on me.

“We’ll see about that then,” he finally said, his voice low and casual, though I could tell there was a hint of challenge in it.

I was almost afraid to look at him, afraid of what I might see in his eyes. But I couldn’t help it. Slowly, I turned my head, and our eyes met, the connection between us palpable. My head slowly started to move forward by itself, millimeter by millimeter, toward Nicholas. My heart raced faster and faster, it was practically thumping out of my chest when I realized that he was leaning in, too. Right as I was about to close my eyes to welcome whatever was about to happen, I heard a group of people loudly laugh as they passed by behind us. I quietly chuckled to myself, thinking that may be my cue to leave.

Satiating my dose of Nicholas for the day, I dusted myself off and stood up from the beach chair, handing him my empty beer bottle, “I guess we will,” I said, not too much of a challenge behind my words. I grabbed my chair and looked back at Nicholas with a friendly grin before walking off.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of Nicholas’s eyes on me, but I powered through, making my way to my room. The second I entered, I went to the bathroom and stripped off my sandy clothes, turning on the shower to warm myself up from sitting in the cool, evening breeze. The hot water streamed over my skin, washing away the lingering chill from the beach. I let out a deep breath, closing my eyes as the steam began to fill the space.

My mind wandered back to the conversation with Nicholas. His words replayed in my head, their weight sinking in a little deeper with each memory: We’ll see about that.

After my shower, I slipped into a cozy tee and shorts, feeling a bit more grounded. I sat by the window, towel drying my hair, watching the moonlight dance on the water. The calm of the night settled around me, but my mind was still restless.

To distract myself, I turned on the tv, not caring what was on but making sure to keep the sound at a reasonable volume to not disturb Nicholas but just loud enough that I might not hear tonight’s mystery woman moan through the wall.

As the night stretched on, I tried my best to focus on the random show playing on the screen, but my thoughts kept drifting. Every sound outside my window, every muffled thump from the hallway, made my heart race just a little faster thinking it might be Nicholas arriving to his room.

The hours ticked by. I hadn’t heard anything from his side of the wall yet — not a voice, not the creak of a bedframe, nothing. It was almost worse than the alternative. The anticipation was maddening. I half-wondered if he knew I was waiting, if he was deliberately drawing this out just to mess with me.

Finally, around midnight, I heard the faintest sound of a door opening and closing. My stomach twisted, though I wasn’t sure why. I told myself I didn’t care, that whatever he did wasn’t any of my business. There were a few thumps followed by a silence on the other side. I tried to focus on the tv but my ears seemed to be tuned in on what was going on the opposite side of the wall.

Minutes passed, and the silence persisted. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Nicholas had turned over a new leaf tonight, or maybe he just couldn’t hook himself a lady tonight. But just as my focus started to drift back to the tv, the silence was broken by a clear, unmistakable groan — Nicholas. I half-expected it to be followed by the high-pitched moan of a woman, like it was both nights prior, but it never came. 

I should’ve turned the volume up, drowned it out, or grabbed my headphones. Instead, I sat there, frozen, as the groaning grew louder — his voice, unmistakable and far too close for comfort. I hated how my body reacted. The heat in my cheeks, the way my chest tightened with every noise, the throbbing sensation between my thighs. I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought, but I let my curiosity get the best of me.

I slid off the bed and crept toward the closet, my heart pounding in my chest. My rational side screamed at me to stop, to mind my own business, but something about the sound of his voice pulled me in. But the little devil on my shoulder told me that I had already eavesdropped twice before, what’s one more time?

Opening the closet doors quietly, I leaned over the luggage rack and pressed my ear lightly against the cool surface of the wall, listening. The groans continued, low and guttural, accompanied by the light sound of a rhythmic wet slapping, sending an uninvited warmth through my body. It took a moment for me to realize there was no second voice, no telltale feminine giggle or breathy gasp. It was just Nicholas.

My breath caught in my throat. He's alone. The realization sent a shockwave through me, equal parts relief and something else I didn't want to name. He wasn't with anyone tonight. He was... taking care of himself.

I pressed my forehead against the wall, closing my eyes as his voice — raw, unguarded, and achingly intimate — filled my ears. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, clutching the fabric of my shirt as I fought the conflicting feelings that raced through me. However guilty I felt for listening in, I couldn’t pull myself away. I was entranced.

His groans deepened, interspersed with uneven breaths, and I felt my knees weaken. It was maddening how his voice seemed to reach right into me. My lips parted slightly, my breath shaky as my body betrayed me, responding to the sounds with a heat I tried desperately to ignore.

The wet slapping quickened, a whimper escaping his lips followed by erratic heavy breathing. I lost all inhibitions, slipping my hand under my underwear. I exhaled shakily, my head resting against the wall, feeling the vibrations of his voice travel through me. My fingers moved instinctively, slow and hesitant at first, matching the rhythm of the sounds spilling from him. Each groan, each sigh seemed to draw me deeper into a haze I couldn't escape.

My mind was a mess of contradictions: shame, desire, and something more dangerous — an unspoken connection, even if he didn't know I was there. I bit my lip, trying to stay as silent as possible, but the tension within me built with each passing moment, threatening to undo me entirely.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Nicholas quickly whined out, followed by a loud moan.

I slipped my other hand under my shirt, kneading my breast, as my fingers worked my throbbing clit. I felt the rapid beat of my heart as it matched the rhythm of his breath. The heat between my legs intensified, and the sound of his voice grew louder in my ears, pulling me further into the spiral. His groans were rough, almost frantic now, and I could feel every pulse, every heavy breath reverberating through the wall like it was echoing through my very bones.

I tried to focus, tried to pull myself out of this situation before it became something I couldn't undo, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't pull away, couldn't shake the pull of him. I closed my eyes tightly, my fingers rubbing harder against my clit in frantic circles, then moving them lower and slipping my middle and ring finger inside of me. Desperate, I pulled my shorts off me, letting them land at my feet.

My own breathing became erratic, escaping through my nostrils as I tried to keep myself from making any sound, biting the inside of my cheek and shutting my eyes closed as I pleasured myself.

His voice broke through the haze of my thoughts again. "God... need you..."

The words, the desperation in them, sent me into a frenzy. I couldn’t hold in my voice any longer — a quiet, whimper escaping my lips as I pumped my fingers inside me, pretending they were Nicholas’s. I could feel the tension in me coiling tighter and tighter the more I heard him talk through his pleasure.

A high-pitched groan slipped out of him, the wet slapping quickening even more. I could almost picture him on the other side — laying down in the middle of his bed, shirtless. his legs dangling off as he tugged at himself, his eyes shut as he grabbed at his hair, giving in.

My breath hitched at the vivid image in my mind. It was a dangerous thought, but one that I desperately wished I was there to see.

I could almost hear the strained breath in his throat, as if he was on the edge, about to break. The thought alone sent an electric charge through me, spurring me to move faster, my fingers pressing deeper, matching the intensity of his own rhythm.

"Please," he moaned, his voice broken, raw with need. "Fuck..."

The vulnerability in his voice, so exposed, so real, made me lose all control. I found myself unable to think or reason anymore. I was lost in him, in the sound of his pleasure, and in the dangerous path I was walking.

His voice faltered, his groans growing more frantic, and that's when I felt it — the sudden wave of warmth, the rush of sensation sweeping over me. But just as I was reaching my peak, so was he. Nicholas let out a sound so intimate and raw that it sent a shiver down my spine. Then came a low, guttural groan followed by the unmistakable — my name.

“(Y/N)- fuck!”

It happened just as I was about to reach orgasm, but I was so startled to hear my name that my eyes shot open and I stumbled back from the wall, knocking over the luggage rack below with a solid thud as it tipped over. I tried to catch it before it hit the floor, stumbling to reach for it, but my effort was for naught. A deafening silence filled the room after the loud noise quickly settled. The only thing I could hear was the loud thumping coming from my chest, becoming faster as I realized my predicament.

My breath came in shallow gasps, my body stiff with tension, caught somewhere between shock and embarrassment. On the other side of the wall, there was a beat of complete silence. I held my breath, waiting to hear something — anything — but nothing came. Not a footstep, not a sound. My mind raced, praying that Nicholas might’ve not heard the ruckus through his climax. Don’t orgasms dull one’s senses?

And then, as if the silence was suffocating me, I heard it. A faint creak — Nicholas’s door, opening then closing with a heavy thud. My chest tightened, anxiety coursing through my veins. I stood there frozen, my legs completely unable to move as if I had stuck them in buckets of cement. I felt every inch of my skin burn with humiliation. That’s when I heard a knock at my door, not light like the day before. It sounded desperate. I couldn’t run; I couldn’t hide. Nicholas knew I was in here.

Slowly, I inched closer to the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the doorknob. I tried to swallow my nerves, but I couldn’t fight the fact that I felt like I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I breathed heavily as I opened the door, clutching at the edge as my eyes fell on Nicholas’s heaving bare chest.

He stood there, his chest rising and falling, glistening from the thin layer of sweat that he had worked up. A slight satisfied grin played on his lips as his eyes trailed down my body, lingering on my bottom half as I stood there in nothing but my shirt and lacy underwear.

He didn't wait for an invitation, stepping inside as soon as the door cracked open, closing it behind him with a deafening click. We stood there, facing each other, the silence hanging thick in the air. I could barely meet his gaze, my cheeks still burning with humiliation. I stammered, hoping to explain myself with a pathetic excuse of a reason, but he interrupted me with a quiet shush, still smirking.

He placed a finger gently over his lips, his eyes dark with something unreadable. "No need to explain," he whispered, stepping closer, his presence dominating the space between us. My breath hitched as he closed the distance, cornering me against the wall, his body heat enveloping me, making my pulse race.

The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the room was closing in on me with every breath. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't quite figure out what to do with my hands, so I held them behind my back, pressing them against the wall.

“Were you listening in?” He asked, brushing his hand up my sides before it settled on my hip, my body trembling under his touch. It was everything I wanted him to do to me, and yet, I still felt nervous under him.

Too ashamed of myself to open my mouth to answer, I nodded my head hesitantly. Nicholas's smirk widened, but there was no mockery in it. No teasing. His hand slid to my chin, tilting my head up so that our gazes locked. There was no escape now — no way to hide.

“I hoped you were,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, sending shivers down my spine. His thumb traced the line of my jaw slowly, deliberately.

He was so close now that I could feel his breath against my skin, and I was painfully aware of how badly my body was reacting to him. His thumb brushed over my lips, and I instinctively parted them, my breath hitching as his gaze softened, darkened. I could feel the tension between us, so thick that I could almost taste it.

His other hand slid around to the small of my back, pressing me into him, the heat of his body sending waves of electricity through me. His eyes never left mine, and I could hear the rapid beat of my own heart in my ears, drowning out everything else.

Nicholas murmured, his voice dark and full of intention, "Did you enjoy what you heard?" His fingers tightened ever so slightly on my waist, as if testing my response, and I couldn't help the small, almost imperceptible nod that escaped my lips.

Nicholas's smirk deepened, and he closed the gap between us, his lips barely grazing mine. His breath was hot and intoxicating, and the world seemed to disappear around us.

“Were you touching yourself?” He questioned, his hand moving down to my hips, my body squirming the moment his finger hooked itself under the band of my underwear.

I closed my eyes, my lips parting at his touch, nodding my head again. My hands clenched behind my back, the urge to touch him overwhelming. But I couldn't seem to move, too caught up in the magnetic pull between us.

Nicholas's thumb traced the outline of my lips again, the action slow and deliberate. His gaze never left mine, and I could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he studied me like I was something he wanted, something he couldn't resist.

His voice was a whisper, low and intoxicating. "You can touch me if you want to." It was a quiet command, but there was an invitation in it.

I hesitated for a moment, but then, as if drawn by an invisible force, my hand slid up his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the soft skin. My fingers traced the lines of his collarbone, skimming down to the waistband of his pants before I pulled away, suddenly embarrassed by the boldness of the move. Nicholas didn't give me time to retreat too much, though. With a gentle but firm grasp, he pulled my hand back to his chest, guiding it lower, urging me to feel the hard planes of his body.

His lips parted slightly as he lowered his head, his breath hot against my ear. “Don't be shy,” he whispered again, his voice thick with desire.

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I let my hand roam over his body, feeling the heat radiating from him. The muscles of his chest were solid under my touch, his skin warm and soft in contrast. My fingertips trailed down to the waistband of his pants again, this time without hesitation. He didn't stop me, didn't pull away. Instead, he let out a low, approving sound, his body shifting closer to mine.

The closeness was dizzying. His scent filled my senses, sharp and intoxicating, and I couldn't help but pull him toward me by his belt loops and lean in, my lips just inches from his.

He took charge, his lips brushing mine softly at first, teasing, testing, until the pressure grew, and I found myself kissing him back without hesitation. The kiss was electric, hungry, full of that same tension that had been building between us for days. His hand slid around my back, pulling me closer, as I tangled my fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss.

My body responded to him, betraying all the resistance l'd tried to put up. I felt his hands everywhere — on my back, on my hips, his hands softly squeezing my ass, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough. A groan rumbled low in his throat as his lips moved to my neck, trailing kisses down the curve of my collarbone. I tilted my head back, surrendering to the sensation, every nerve alive, every thought clouded by the pull of him.

His hands slipped under my shirt, sliding along my bare skin, and I gasped at the coolness of his touch against the heat of my body. The intimacy of it all, the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to make me shiver, was overwhelming. But I wasn't the only one lost in this; it was clear from his ragged breathing, from the way his hands shook slightly as they explored my body, that he was just as desperate as I was.

"Everything I did this weekend was to get your attention," Nicholas murmured against my skin. His lips pressed against the curve of my jaw, trailing to my ear, where he nipped at the lobe gently. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you in the stairwell. I can't get enough of you, (Y/N),” his voice rough, almost pleading, “I want you.”

His confession hit me like a tidal wave, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. His words, his desire, everything he was feeling was laid bare before me, and I couldn't deny that I wanted him just as much.

"I want you, too, Nicholas," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but the raw honesty behind it made his body freeze. His hands paused where they rested on my back, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, as if he was trying to read my soul.

I, however, didn't hesitate. My hands found the sides of his face, pulling him back toward me as I kissed him fiercely. The kiss became frantic as our bodies collided, desperate, as though we were both starved for this connection. His hands moved quickly, pulling my shirt over my head and discarding it on the floor. I felt the cool air hit my skin, but it did nothing to dampen the fire building inside me.

I couldn't pull away. My body, my mind, all of it was consumed by him. His lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing lightly over the sensitive skin of my collarbone as his hands roamed lower, finding the waistband of my underwear again. I gasped as he gently tugged them down, his fingers brushing against my skin with an intimacy that made me tremble.

Nicholas was steady in his movements, never rushing, always making sure I was with him, always checking, always asking if I was okay with everything. But there was a fire in his eyes, a need that mirrored mine, a hunger that couldn't be ignored.

"I want to make you feel good," he whispered against my skin, his voice thick with desire. All I could do was nod my head at his statement, ready to give myself to him.

He wasted no time, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around him, hooking them behind his lower back. The feeling of his jeans grazing my bare center was enough to trigger a quiet mewl out of me. Nicholas groaned at the sound, his lips crashing back onto mine as he carried me toward the bed. When my back hit the soft mattress, I felt the weight of him settle over me, his hands bracing either side of my head.

His gaze bore into mine, his chest rising and falling heavily as he paused, his face hovering just inches above mine. For a moment, everything stilled, the only sound was the rhythmic beat of our breaths mingling in the air between us. As he settled down in the space next to me, propping himself up by the elbow, his free hand reached up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. The both of us laid there, face to face.

His lips parted as if to say something but no words escaped his lips, the hand on my cheek slowly making its way down, down. It lingered, at first, over my sensitive breast, tracing slow circles around my nipple. I bit my lip at the sensation, digging my head into his chest as I quietly moaned.

Nicholas quietly giggled, amused to see me squirming under him, as he slithered his supporting arm behind my head and pulled me closer to him. His lips rested on my forehead as he slid his hand further down, enveloping my center. “God, you’re soaking,” he whispered; I could feel his smirk against my skin.

His fingers massaged my throbbing bud, then slipped his fingers into me, his touch deft and confident. I loudly gasped and clutched at his arm, arching into him. “Oh, fuck,” I quietly breathed, nibbling on my bottom lip to bite back my moans.

He smiled, “Don’t hold yourself back. Be as loud as you want,” he whispered as his fingers continued to coax me, his thumb massaging my clit.

Digging my nails into his shoulder, my chest violently rising and falling as he pumped his fingers, I shook my head. “Somebody’s gonna hear,” I stammered out through my labored breathing.

“So?” He questioned, slipping a third finger in. Nicholas's confidence was maddening, his tone both teasing and commanding, making it impossible to resist him. “Let them hear how good I make you feel," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.

My body arched involuntarily, my head falling back into the pillow as a moan escaped me despite my best efforts to stifle it. Nicholas was not having it. He quickened his pace, quickly slipping in and out with ease, as his thumb continued to circle around my clit. His lips kissed at my neck, his tongue licking my skin before gently sucking. I turned my head, my hand clutching at the back of his hair as I passionately made out with him, softly moaning between kisses.

I was unraveling beneath him, my body trembling as the heat coiled tighter and tighter in my core. My moans slowly became louder and louder, filling the room, and I knew there was no hiding how he was making me feel. The pleasure that I was feeling was so great that I couldn’t focus on kissing Nicholas anymore. I had to pull my head away, glancing down at his hand pumping in and out of me before shutting my eyes and burying my head into his chest again. I could barely find the strength to call out to him, my voice faltering as I moaned out, “Nic…” 

"That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Say my name, baby,” his fingers reshaping themselves inside me to reach further

My breathing became erratic hearing him call me baby, my nails raking across his shoulder as I clung to him, "Nicholas," I cried, louder this time, no longer caring who might hear.

The sound of my voice seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more precise, more relentless. His words, his touch, the heat of his body — it was all too much. "It’s ok; I’ve got you," he murmured against my neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along my skin. His gaze locking with mine, his fingers never faltering.

His words were my undoing. I shattered around him, my body arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over me, pulling me under. My cries of ecstasy filled the room, and I clung to Nicholas like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. He held me through it, his embrace steady and reassuring as I rode out the high while his fingers continued to coax every pleasure out of me, slowing to a stop.

When I finally came down, my body limped against his, Nicholas pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his hand leaving my core and coming up to his lips. I watched in awe as he licked at his fingers, wrapping his lips around them as he savored every trace of me with a deliberate slowness that made my breath hitch. His eyes never left mine, their intensity sending a shiver down my spine. I buried my face against his shoulder, my breathing still uneven.

He brushed away the damp hair from my face with the back of his pinky, “You taste even better than I imagined,” he spoke softly, his voice velvety.

The weight of his gaze was almost too much, but when I looked into his brown eyes, all I saw was warmth, tenderness, and something deeper that made my stomach ache. My stomach wasn’t the only thing aching, either. The entirety of me did — my hands, my core, my soul. I ached for him.

Desperate to have him at the end of my fingertips, I trailed my hands across his chest, settling on the nape of his neck as I captured his lips in a kiss. Nicholas replied with a soft groan, his hand finding my waist and his fingers delicately digging into my skin. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as I pulled him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me. My hands wandered, exploring the contours of his back, his muscles taut under my fingertips.

I pulled my lips away, pressing my forehead against his, “I hope you’re not done with me yet,” I whispered.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Far from it.”

He cradled my head in his hand, angling it slightly as his lips moved with mine, urgent yet tender. Nicholas shifted his weight, moving slightly up on the bed, grabbing me by my hips and rolling himself over on the bed as he pulled me on top of him.

My legs straddled his hips, my bare skin brushing against the rough denim of his jeans. The friction sent a jolt through me, and I bit my lip, my eyes locking with his. His hands slid up my thighs, gripping them firmly as if grounding himself in the moment. His gaze roamed over me with unrestrained hunger, making my skin flush under his scrutiny.

His hands continued their slow exploration, sliding up to rest on my waist. "I could look at you like this forever."

His words sent a thrill through me, and I couldn't help but smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. He met me halfway, his hands tightening their grip as he deepened the kiss. I let my hands roam, tracing the lines of his chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength beneath my fingertips. His muscles flexed as he moved beneath me, his hands sliding up to cradle my back, holding me close.

My hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, and Nicholas groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his eyes fluttered shut. His reaction ignited something in me, a newfound confidence that made me bold. I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, "Tell me what you want, Nicholas."

His hands gripped my waist tighter, guiding my movements as he let out a low growl. "I want you," he said, his voice rough with desire.

The intensity of his words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't hold back the smile that spread across my face. Leaning down, I kissed him again, pouring every ounce of my own desire into it. My hands tangled in his hair as our lips moved together, our breaths mingling as the space between us disappeared entirely.

Nicholas's hands slid down to my ass, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided me to move against him. The friction between us was electric, each movement sending waves of pleasure through me. His lips left mine to trail down my neck, his teeth grazing over my skin in a way that made me gasp.

"You drive me crazy, (Y/N)," he murmured against my collarbone, his voice raw, “you know that?"

I smiled, my hands bracing against his chest as I moved against him, my confidence growing with every reaction I drew from him. "I do now," I replied, my voice breathless.

Nicholas groaned, his hand digging into my skin as he bucked his hips upward, meeting my movements. His control was slipping, and I could feel it in the way his grip tightened, the way his breathing grew ragged. I continued to grind against him, trying to coax out the whimpers I had heard escape his lips when I was listening through the wall.

Nicholas's hands slid up my back, his fingers tracing along my spine as he tried to steady himself. His head fell back, his eyebrows tied together as his lips parted in a quiet moan that sent a rush of heat through me. But it wasn’t enough. I brushed my thumb against his bottom lip, slowing to a stop so he could feel the loss, teasing him with the occasional grind, “I want to hear you, Nic.”

He nodded his head, pressing me down against him as he bucked his hips upward repeatedly, desperate for me to continue. “Please, (Y/N),” he shut his eyes closed as he ground himself against me, quietly whining.

Smirkingly, I obliged, slowly continuing to grind against him. I rested my palms on his tense chest, bringing them down to the waistband of his jeans. His fingers curled into my thighs the faster I worked, moaning louder and louder.

“Fuck, I can’t—“ he threw his head back, raggedly moaning.

Looking at him in such a vulnerable state underneath me after days of having to deal with his cocky confidence, it made my blood rush. I played with the button of his jeans, undoing them and shimmying his pants and boxers off just enough for his hard length to free itself under me. I spit my hand, gently stroking him as I positioned his member at my entrance.

Nicholas let out a guttural groan, his hands gripping me firmly as I hovered over him, teasing him with my slow movements. I lowered myself onto him, taking him in inch by inch, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through my body. A sharp gasp escaped my lips, and Nicholas’s eyes rolled back, his head falling back onto the pillow again. The connection between us was electric, every movement, every sound amplifying the intensity of the moment. Nicholas's hands roamed over my body, his touch both tender and possessive.

As I rode him, I grabbed Nicholas’s hands, leading them to my chest. Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he understood what I wanted, beginning to knead and pinch at my breasts. I moaned at his touch, bringing one hand of his up to my lips to kiss his fingertips before placing it back on my breast.

Suddenly, I felt him tense under me, arching his back toward me, "Don't stop," he pleaded, his voice becoming an octave higher, his grip on me tightening. "Please, baby, don't stop.”

I didn't. I couldn't. The rhythm between us was intoxicating, building to something that felt almost otherworldly. My name fell from his lips like a prayer, and the sound sent a surge of pleasure through me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

Nicholas's hands fell to my hips, guiding my movements as his breathing grew erratic. "I'm close," he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and pleasure.

I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “Come for me, Nic." My words seemed to break the last of his restraint, and his hips bucked up into me with an urgency that sent shockwaves through my entire body.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I —“ His words cut off as a guttural groan escaped him, his body arching beneath me as he came. The intensity of his release sent me spiraling over the edge with him, my body trembling as the product of his pleasure filled me completely, some of the creamy liquid slowly dripping out me.

The aftershocks of our climax left us both trembling, our breaths mingling as we tried to regain control of ourselves. I collapsed onto Nicholas's chest, his arms immediately wrapping around me, holding me close as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting go.

For a while, we just lay there, our bodies pressed together, hearts pounding in unison. His fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath me, the steady rhythm lulling me into a serene haze.

He caught his breath, “That was….” a hint of a chuckle at the end of his words, “That was fucking incredible,” he said as he kissed the top of my head.

I pulled myself off of Nicholas, lying down next to him and covering myself with the bed sheets. I thought about what he had said earlier at the beach — I may not give in easily, but when I do, I give in completely. It felt nice to finally be seen by someone who could understand me even after only knowing me for a few days compared to other people who have known me for years and still manage to get things wrong about me.

I rolled over to face Nicholas, my hand finding his. He smiled softly, intertwining his fingers with mine and kissing the back of my hand. A smile curled at the end of my lips seeing him so affectionate, “When do you check out of the hotel?” I asked, playing with his hand.

“In the morning. You?” He asked, caressing my cheek with his other hand.

“In the morning,” I replied, my eyes flickering up at him to see his reaction.

He was quiet, not saying anything at first, however, he rolled me over and pulled me closer to him, spooning me and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “We’ll have tonight, then,” he whispered, wrapping his heavy arm around my waist and nuzzling his head into the pillow.

My chest tightened at his words, and I couldn't help but smile softly. I rested my hand above his, intertwining our fingers. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep to the sound of Nicholas’s soft, rhythmic breathing.

A few hours later, which felt like minutes, I stirred awake to the soft light filtering through the curtains. The remnants of the previous night were scattered around — my shirt and underwear and his jeans and boxers strewn carelessly across the floor, the faint scent of Nicholas's cologne mingling with the crisp hotel room air.

The weight of his big, beefy arm draped over my waist anchored me in place. For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the warmth of his body against mine and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek before I rotated in place so I could admire Nicholas as he rested. 

We were so close that I could count the beauty marks on his face. There was one on his cheek and another on his chin. His lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. I softly grazed my fingers over the scar on his forehead, wondering how he might’ve gotten it, though I’m not sure if I’d ever find out. He looked peaceful, vulnerable even, and the sight tugged at something deep within me.

I let my fingers trail lightly over his chest, tracing the faint outlines of the muscles that had pressed against me so urgently just hours ago. He stirred slightly, a low hum escaping his throat as his arm tightened around me instinctively.

His eyes fluttered open, landing on me before he closed them again for a few seconds, “Morning,” he murmured, smiling, his voice thick and husky from sleep. He opened his eyes again, gazing at me longingly.

"Morning," I whispered back, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze despite everything we had shared. His hand slid up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair as he leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss.

“Are we staying in?” he asked, shifting his body to face me.

I smiled, running a hand through his messy bedhead. "Oh, I wish," I admitted, my cheeks flushing as the memories of the night before flooded back, "but we have to check out.”

Nicholas groaned, his forehead pressing gently against mine. “Don’t remind me,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “We should get some breakfast together before we leave.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, pushing myself up and sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching my arms. I let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of the moment settle on me. The night had been incredible, but the thought of leaving was already filling me with an unexpected ache. “Breakfast sounds perfect,” I said softly, faking a small yawn.

Nicholas and I didn’t waste any time. I changed into a clean set of clothes and packed up my things, my body slowly waking up the more I walked back and forth in the room. Nicholas put on his boxers and jeans and retreated to his room for a bit, quickly throwing all his stuff into a backpack before coming back to my room and helping me carry my bags to the car.

I think I was too somber to say anything, knowing if I did, that a “goodbye” might be attached to the end of whatever I say.

The silence between us felt heavy but not uncomfortable as we made our way to the café, our movements synchronized without the need for words.

As we entered, the delicious smell of freshly-baked pastries beckoned to us. The morning sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting soft rays across the inside. The sound of light chatter and the occasional clinking of cups and forks against the ceramic plates filled the air, but it all felt distant compared to the warmth between Nicholas and me.

He slithered his hand into mine as he led us to the register, politely smiling to the worker. He ordered his meal, a coffee and a Belgian waffle. I was about to order for myself when he interrupted. “She’ll have the Italian crème croissant and a pot of green tea, please.”

I couldn’t help but smile. That first morning in the café, I could’ve sworn Nicholas was so focused on his book that he didn’t realize what was going on around him; I had no idea he was paying attention to me the entire time.

He paid the worker for our food, letting her keep the change, and waked us over to the same table I had sat in both days prior. We sat close, our knees brushing under the table as we picked at our food, the conversation flowing easily despite the unspoken weight of the situation hanging in the air. After some minutes, the worker came over with our food, and we continued to converse while enjoying our breakfast.

Nicholas looked at me, his expression soft but with a hint of something more playful. “So, at what point are you gonna give me your number?” he asked, taking a bite of his waffle.

I paused, chuckling softly as I chewed on my croissant for a moment before meeting his gaze. “What?” I asked confusedly, trying to keep my tone casual, though my heart rate had sped up slightly.

“What, you thought you’d get rid of me so easily?” He took a sip of his coffee, shaking his head and smirking.

I laughed, the sound a little nervous but genuine. “I just didn’t want to assume anything or get my hopes up,” I admitted, giving him a sideways glance. There was a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t quite place, something between affection and the lingering thrill of uncertainty.

Nicholas’s eyes softened, and he leaned back slightly, his hands wrapped around his cup. “Well, get your hopes up,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “because I don’t plan on letting go of you anytime soon.”

I swallowed, feeling my heart rate quicken at his words. There was something about the way he said it — so casually but with an intensity beneath the surface — that made me realize just how serious he was. And maybe how serious I was about him too.

“Alright, alright,” I said, smiling, trying to shake off the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside me. “Let’s trade phones.”

Nicholas’s smile widened, and he handed me his phone without hesitation, his fingers brushing against mine as we traded devices. I typed my number into the phone app, adding myself as a contact.

“Just remember we’re in different time zones before you decide to call me in the middle of the night,” I joked as I handed his phone back to him.

Nicholas laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made my heart flutter. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket then handing me mine, the screen off. “Though I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, but the blush creeping up my neck betrayed me.

We finished our breakfast. Nicholas quietly walked me over to my car. He walked close to me, his hand occasionally brushing against mine before finally capturing it. He leaned casually against the car with his arms crossed. He looked so effortless, so at ease, but there was something in his eyes — a softness, maybe even a hint of reluctance — that made it clear he felt the weight of the moment, too.

We both stood there silently, knowing this was our goodbye. Nicholas uncrossed his arms, stepping closer until he was right in front of me. His fingers tilted my chin up, and he searched my eyes, his brows knitting together slightly as if to say something. However, instead of resorting to words, he inched his face closer and closer until our lips grazed. 

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both trying to hold on to the fleeting moment. But then, as if we both couldn’t help it, the kiss deepened, more urgent now, the electricity between us undeniable. My hands found their way to his shirt, pulling him closer, while his arms wrapped around me, his fingers pressing into my back as if he wanted to keep me there forever. Though, we pulled away slowly, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. Neither of us spoke immediately, both of us reluctant to break the spell.

Nicholas stepped back, “How about next time you have a free weekend you treat yourself to a trip to LA and come visit me?”

My heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of his offer sinking in. I couldn’t tell if it was the sudden openness of his invitation or the quiet sincerity in his voice that made it feel so real. It wasn’t just a passing comment; it was an open door between us.

“I’d like that,” I said softly, surprised by how easily the words came out.

He smiled, his expression softening. “Good.” He reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering as his eyes locked onto mine.

I wanted to say more — something that could make this moment last longer, something to ease the ache already starting to form in my chest. But the words didn’t come, and instead, we stood there, wrapped in silence, our connection hanging between us like an unspoken promise.

He gave me one lingering kiss, brief but filled with everything we couldn’t put into words. When we finally pulled away, he looked at me, as if taking one final mental picture of me standing there, before speaking. “I’ll call you.”

I nodded, feeling the flutter of anticipation start to rise inside me. “You better.”

He squeezed my hand gently before opening my car door and slyly rolling down the window, watching me climb inside and closing the door for me. He leaned on the door, softly smiling, “To be continued.”

I couldn’t help but smile and give him one final kiss through the open window so I could savor his taste before starting up the car. He stepped back, hands in his pockets, to give me enough room to back out of the parking space. I slowly reversed out, waving my hand at him and driving out into the street.

The quiet hum of the engine filled the space, but the silence didn’t feel empty. There was something between us, something that went beyond just a weekend. It was more than I’d expected, more than I’d thought I was ready for, but as I drove away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end.

I don’t think I even left the neighborhood before a phone call interrupted my thoughts. My car’s entertainment screen lit up with the contact name in big, bold letters — Room 5.

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I tapped the answer button on the steering wheel. “Hey,” I teased, my voice light and playful, though my chest felt warm at the sight of his contact name lighting up my screen.

“Hey,” Nicholas’s voice came through, smooth and familiar.

It was just the beginning.