#how long did it take me to get these to where i liked them? let's.. not talk about it

[writeriguess]

Love and deepspace sylus x female reader where she teases him, and things get heated, they end up fucking on his desk.

You’d been teasing Sylus all day, testing the limits of his patience in that way you knew drove him wild. From subtle touches when you passed by his desk to playful smirks when you caught his eye, you knew exactly how to unravel him. You could see the tension in the set of his shoulders, the barely-restrained frustration simmering behind those cold, calculating eyes. Every stolen glance promised retribution, and part of you craved it—wanted to see him lose that perfect control.

He sat at his desk now, fingers tapping impatiently at the controls, eyes focused ahead on the holographic displays detailing his latest strategy. The soft hum of the ship provided a steady backdrop, but all you could focus on was the way he clenched his jaw when you leaned over his shoulder, just close enough for your breath to brush against his ear.

“You’ve been staring at those numbers for hours,” you said, voice laced with a faux innocence. “Need any help? Maybe a distraction?”

His response was nothing more than a grunt, but the way his grip tightened on the edge of the desk betrayed him. You smirked, moving closer, letting your fingers trail lightly down his arm, feeling the tension coil beneath his skin.

“Or maybe you’d rather me… stop?” The suggestion was teasing, and you knew he wouldn’t take it lightly. Not after how you’d been toying with him, slowly unraveling the composure that made him so dangerous.

He didn’t answer. Not immediately. His eyes remained forward, locked on the screen, though you could tell he wasn’t focused on the data anymore. His body was too tense, too aware of you standing so close behind him.

A surge of heat coursed through you, emboldened by his silence. You leaned in further, pressing your chest lightly against his back as your hands slid up his shoulders, nails grazing the fabric of his uniform before slipping to the nape of his neck.

“Nothing to say, Sylus?” you whispered into his ear, voice dropping an octave as you felt him stiffen beneath your touch. “I thought you always had a plan.”

There was a moment of pure, electrified stillness before he moved. With swift, controlled power, Sylus stood and turned, forcing you back a step as he towered over you. His eyes were darker now, a molten heat swirling in them that made your pulse quicken. He didn’t say a word, just stared down at you like a predator assessing its prey.

Your heart pounded in anticipation, but you weren’t going to give in that easily. You met his gaze head-on, a slow smile tugging at your lips as you tilted your head, silently daring him to make the next move.

And he did.

In one quick motion, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward him until your bodies collided. His mouth crashed against yours, fierce and demanding, as if he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t wait another second. The kiss was raw, filled with the pent-up tension you’d been teasing out of him all day.

You moaned into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed you against the edge of the desk. His other hand slid down to your waist, gripping tightly, possessively, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of letting you go now that he had you. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, biting and sucking with an almost bruising intensity.

You gasped, feeling the heat in your core intensify as his hands roamed lower, finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward. You broke the kiss long enough for him to strip it from you, and then his mouth was on you again, hot and relentless as he kissed down your collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“I warned you,” he growled against your skin, voice thick with restrained desire. “You push too far, you’ll get burned.”

You didn’t care. You wanted this—wanted him to lose control. “Then burn me.”

That was all it took. Sylus let out a low, primal sound before he lifted you effortlessly, sitting you on the edge of the desk. His hands were everywhere, exploring, claiming, as if he was making sure you knew exactly who was in control now.

His lips were back on yours, rough and hungry, as his fingers slid under your waistband. He made quick work of your pants, tugging them down and tossing them aside without a second thought. The cool air hit your skin, sending a shiver through you, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs apart.

Your breath hitched as he stood between them, his body pressing against yours. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of intent as his hand slid up the inside of your thigh, brushing teasingly close to where you wanted him most.

“You’ve been driving me insane all day,” he muttered, fingers just barely grazing you, enough to make you tremble with need. “Now it’s my turn.”

Before you could respond, his fingers dipped between your folds, stroking with agonizing precision. A moan tore from your throat as he found your clit, circling it with a practiced rhythm that made your legs quiver. His touch was skilled, deliberate, dragging out your pleasure until you were breathless, clutching at his shoulders for support.

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured against your ear, voice low and taunting. “To have me like this?”

You could barely think, let alone answer, as his fingers sped up, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. All you could do was nod, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure built inside you, threatening to spill over.

But just as you were about to fall, he stopped.

You let out a frustrated whimper, hips bucking against his hand, but he held you still, his grip firm. “Not yet,” he said, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he watched your desperation with dark amusement.

Then he was pulling away, only long enough to undo the fastenings of his pants, the metallic clink of his belt sending another wave of heat through you. He wasted no time, positioning himself between your legs, his cock hard and heavy as he lined up against your entrance.

Your heart pounded in anticipation as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, silently begging for more. And finally, he gave in, thrusting into you with one powerful stroke that made you cry out in pleasure.

Sylus groaned, low and rough, as he filled you completely, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he set a punishing rhythm. Each thrust was hard and fast, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room as he fucked you against the desk.

It was rough and raw, every bit of tension and frustration poured into each movement as he took you, over and over, until all you could do was hold on, moaning his name as he drove you higher and higher.

His hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit again, and this time, he didn’t stop. The pressure was too much, the pleasure too intense, and within seconds, you were falling apart, crying out his name as the orgasm tore through you.

He wasn’t far behind, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release, finally spilling inside you with a deep, guttural groan.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the harsh, uneven breathing of the two of you, still tangled together, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Sylus slowly pulled out, but he didn’t move away, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, but there was a satisfied smirk on his lips. “You’re insufferable.”

You couldn’t help but smile, leaning up to kiss him softly, the tenderness a stark contrast to what had just happened. “Maybe. But you love it.”

His response was a low chuckle, but there was something softer in his eyes now, a glimmer of affection beneath the heat. "You’re lucky I do."

And as you sat there, tangled together on his desk, the rest of the galaxy faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet aftermath of your own chaos.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[firewasabeast]

“Tommy!” Eddie cheered, lifting his drink toward the sky as he spotted his friend walking toward him. “Whatcha doin' here, Man?”

“Figured I'd stop by and see how you were doing, Bud,” Tommy replied. He gave Eddie a pat on the back as he sat down in the empty seat next to him. “You come here alone?”

“Mhm. Needed ta get out. House's too quiet.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Too long,” the bartender interrupted as he walked by. “Was about to cut him off. I already took his keys.”

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, looking around the bar counter. “Hey! You took my keys.”

“I got him,” Tommy said, giving the bartender a nod. “I gotta say, at least you're talking better than you're texting. I was worried.”

Eddie's face scrunched up in confusion. “Huh? I never did texted you.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Tommy fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and went to his messages. “'Buuuuuuuck, lezz drink, Buddy.' Then five minutes later, 'Bruck, why rn't you at bar? I waiting.' A good two minutes after that you sent me your location with an angry emoji. Then, and this is my personal favorite, 'Loser too busy kissy kissy with Tummy to be a friendship.'”

"Huh. Thought I was textin' Buck.”

“Yeah, I pieced that together.”

“So where's Buck if you're not kissy kissy?” Eddie asked, his final drink sloshing over his fingers as he attempted to bring it to his lips.

Tommy took the drink from Eddie and set it back on the counter. “Evan is watching Jee overnight so Howie and Maddie can have a night away. So, you wanna talk about whatever's bothering you? I mean, I could take a guess, but...”

“Nah. No, no, nope. I wanna,” Eddie pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Lessgo karaoke, Tomboy-”

“We're not calling me that.”

“I wanna sing to the rooftops,” Eddie continued, his words slurring more and more with each sentence. “I wanna. I wanna be, you know, be free, Tommy. I don't have a rea-,” he hiccuped, “reason to get back home.”

“Really? Seems like that's exactly where you need to be right now.”

Eddie's eyes widened, like he'd thought of the best idea in the entire world. “Let's go to Peeping Tom! That's your name!”

“Peeping Tom is a gay bar, Eddie.”

“I don judge.”

“A very kinky, fully nude gay bar,” Tommy clarified.

Eddie squinted, deep in thought. “No karaoke?”

“No karaoke.”

“Well, then were we go? Don't say home!”

“Home.”

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned, allowing Tommy to wrap an arm around his back and help him up. “You're like a no- no fun dad. Wish I'd texted fun dad.”

Tommy gripped onto Eddie tighter as he stumbled while taking a step. He sighed. “Maybe next time.”

*****

When Eddie woke up the next morning it was to a pounding headache and blinding sunlight coming through his window. He was nauseous and his mouth tasted like a mixture of gasoline and mouthwash.

He laid there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what happened that made him feel so unbelievably ill.

After a few failed attempts, he finally rolled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee.

He froze when he walked through the door to see Tommy sitting there, reading the newspaper.

“Good... morning?” Eddie started, confused.

Tommy set the paper down. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“I- I think so, I guess. It's a little blurry.”

Tommy hummed. “Not surprising. Coffee just finished, if you want some. Your couch is not comfortable, by the way.”

“Buck's never complained.”

“Yeah, well, he's easier to please than I am.”

Eddie was too hungover for this. He had so many questions, but for some reason the first one out of his mouth was: “Where'd you put my shoes?”

“In your closet.”

He grabbed himself a cup for some coffee. “My keys?”

“We have to go pick them up at the bar today, along with your car, obviously.”

“You didn't close my curtains last night. Woke up thinking I was being interrogated by Ice T.”

Tommy sighed, leaning back in his seat. “'Thank you so much for getting me home safely, Tommy. Did it hurt your back having to drag me into the house while I belted out Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of my lungs?'” He stood, walking over to Eddie and taking the coffee out of his hand, drinking a big sip. “Thank you for asking, Eddie. I think my back will be okay, but my ears will never recover.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, turning to fix himself another cup. “Thank you for getting me home safely, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Mhm. No problem.” Tommy returned to his seat and Eddie joined him at the table. They sat in silence for a couple minutes, taking small sips of their drinks.

Eventually, Tommy set his cup down a little harder than normal, getting Eddie's attention with the clinking sound. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what? How your coffee tastes like cigarette sludge?”

“I'll take that as a no then.” Tommy checked his watch. “The bar doesn't open until three. Want me to stop by and pick you up then?”

Eddie shook his head. “I can just get an Uber, Man, thanks though.”

“Of course. I'll, uh, let you recover.” Tommy stood and went to leave, checking his pocket for his keys and phone.

As he neared the door, Eddie spoke. “Wait,” he said. Tommy turned back to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you sleep on my couch?”

“You're my friend,” he answered simply. “You drank a lot. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He took a step back toward the table. “Are you okay?”

Eddie cradled the mug in his hands, watching the steam rise from the cup. “You don't... How long has it been? Since you talked to your dad?”

Okay, so Tommy wasn't leaving then.

He came to the table and sat down, taking a moment to think about Eddie's question. “About six years, I think.”

“What did he do?” He looked over at Tommy. “To make you stop talking to him, I mean. Unless you don't wanna get into it. In fact, forget it, I shouldn't-”

“Eddie, it's fine,” Tommy assured him. “I don't mind.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, sitting up straighter. “So? What happened?”

“It wasn't just one thing,” Tommy explained. “It was a lifetime of things. He's... He's not a good man. I think the catalyst was about a year after I came out. I hadn't been home in awhile, so I decided to drive to his place one weekend. When he answered the door he said, 'What the hell are you doing here?' I told him I was coming to see him and he said, 'What's the damn point in that?' I thought about it for a second and realized that was a good question, so I turned around, got in my car, and left. Never looked back.” Eddie seemed to be contemplating his words, and Tommy could tell where this was going. “It's not the same thing, Eddie,” he said, beating Eddie to it.

“What if he doesn't come back? What I did, Tommy, it wasn't... It was bad.”

“You made a mistake.”

“I cheated on my girlfriend with a doppelganger of his mom, Tommy, and he caught me.”

“Granted, it was a big mistake,” Tommy deadpanned. “But, still a mistake. He'll come around. You gotta give him time.”

“People keep telling me that,” Eddie replied with an eye roll. “That he'll come around. But it's been months of nothing. And it seems like no matter what I do, it's not enough.”

“You're trying.”

Eddie huffed. “I'm not sure getting drunk alone at a bar is trying.”

“I think it shows you care, Eddie. And, yeah, that shouldn't become a habit, but you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to hurt. You made a mistake, but you're a good dad and Christopher knows that. He will come around.”

“And if he doesn't?” Eddie asked, staring over at Tommy.

“Then you keep trying,” Tommy replied. “You never stop trying. Keep being there, keep sending him letters and getting him on Facetime. Go for a visit. Send him texts. I'm not saying you gotta smother him, but never let him forget that you're there. That's the biggest mistake you could ever make.”

“Yeah,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're right. I just... I gotta keep it up. Let him know I'm here, whenever he's ready.”

“Exactly.”

Eddie looked over at the clock on his stove, 11:32 staring back at him. He had no idea he'd slept so long. “Why don't you call Buck, see if he wants to come over and watch a game? Then you can drive me to my car.”

“Oh, you want me to call Evan? Don't you mean fun dad?” Tommy asked, eying Eddie.

It took him a minute, but the memory came back to him. “I did say that, didn't I?”

“You did,” Tommy confirmed. “Which I'm very offended by, by the way. I'm fun!”

Eddie sighed, his head drooping down. “I know you are.”

“I introduced you to karaoke trivia. I've flown you to Vegas.”

“I remember.”

“I never tried to seriously injure you in the name of love.”

“Which I'm very grateful for.”

“I don't have control issues when I have a clipboard in my hand.”

“Are you just gonna keep listing reasons why you're fun?”

“I once shoved three cupcakes in my mouth at once! Nearly choked to death, but Evan whacked me on the back and everything went down just fine.”

Eddie stood with his mug in hand, pointing toward the living room, “I'm gonna go to the couch. Get more comfortable.”

Tommy followed behind, pulling out his phone to call Buck. “I'll let Evan tell you who bowled a 230 last week. Hint: it was me!”

[ninuwrites]

the show|LH+WW

summary: wade just can’t leave you alone with one request so you come up with an idea

warnings: smut, voyeurism, p in v, m and f masturbation

a/n: i had this idea for a really long time and finally i did it!!! hope you enjoy, english is not my first language btw so sorry for any mistakes!! love you all💋

———————————————————————————

logan would do anything for you.

he won’t show it much, but you both know you have him wrapped around your finger.

there were only few things he wouldn’t allow.

one of them being that he’s the only one that could touch you.

he can’t stand seeing guys even looking your way. every time he just wants to claw their eyes out.

so when wade was asking AGAIN to join your bedroom activities, logans first reaction was to beat him up and stab his face over and over again.

let’s say you weren’t really against of wade joining you, you just loved logan too much and you knew all about his possessive situation.

that’s when you came up with idea where both of the men would end up somehow happy.

“he can watch us.” you blurted out when wade wouldn’t stop talking about logans “fuckingly beautiful hawaian rolls” and how he compered you to a greek goddess.

both men were just blankly starting at you. to be honest they did not expect you to respond like that, but you wanted to satisfy both of them. (and for wade to shut up)

wade just smirked and starting babbling something about that he’ll make you fall for him and you should stop pretending and be with him (he always knew how to get on logans nerves).

logan just looked at you, looking a bit shocked and pissed at the same time. you smiled at him, “it won’t be that bad baby, will just give him a show.” you said and kissed his temple.

“come ooon kitty cat, what scared i’ll steal your girl?” wade grinned and oh boy how hard it was for logan to not stab his fucking face all over again.

but how could he say no to a woman like you?

so that’s how you found yourself on your back with a skirt and a bra ( cause logan would not let wade see all of you) with logan between you legs and his tongue lapping at your slopping hole.

“oh she sounds like a heaven.” wade moaned out, spreading his legs and touching his dick through his jeans.

“eyes on me sweetheart.” logan growled, his hands gripping your hips harder than before, making you look back between your legs, his grip definitely leaving some marks.

one of his hands carefully came up your cunt while one of his fingers slowly entered your heat. after few pumps he immediately joined another finger.

you jolted from the sudden movement and pulled his hair , getting a moan from the man which got him feasting on you more aggressively.

“wolvie come on make the girl finish.” wade spoke up.

as logan was about to scream at him to shut his fucking mouth but you managed to take his face into your hands and whispered “don’t let him get you” and “you make me feel so good”

logan gave you a kiss and continued to suck on your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you adding a third one.

“lo- yes please i’m so close.” you moaned out and looked at the place wade was sitting.

his jeans were unbuttoned, shirt was off and his hand was carefully stroking his rock hard cock in the same rhythm as logan was getting you off. you looked into his eyes and moaned again.

“go on honey, let go f’ me will ya?” logan said with his movements speeding up, his thick fingers hitting the sweetest spot in your hot needing cunt.

in the same time, wades hand and breath was speeding up as your moans got louder and the feeling in your tummy got bigger.

“oh yes lo i’m c- i’m cumming!” you screamed, your eyes never leaving wade.

wade threw his head back and spilled all over his jeans and stomach.

“enjoying the show wade?” you asked still out of breath and logan licking you cunt clean.

“you’re unreal sweetie pie.” his legs twitched.

“oh that was just foreplay, here comes the best part.” you smirked and pulled logan by his shirt to face you.

between kisses, you pulled his shirt down and made him sit on the bed so you were on top of him.

you trailed wet kisses down his neck, to his chest and down to his lower tummy. logan meanwhile played with the meat of your ass and tights.

you pulled his boxers down, his cock springing out and hitting his stomach.

“you’re so beautiful lo, always make me feel so good.” you said your eyes never leaving gis as you gave his res tip kitten licks and small kisses.

logan growled and took your hair into is hands , urging you down to his cock.

“don’t tease baby.” he breathed out and you finally relaxed your jaw and took his girth inside your mouth.

“so good to me honey, love your mouth so much.” he growled and pulled your head closer, your nose almost touching his happy trail.

“you can do it baby, so pretty.” he was looking down at you, your eyes were glossy, mouth full and red lips. he could cum just by looking at you.

as he feels your nose touching his abdomen he was a goner. his legs tensed and the grip on your hair tightened.

“okay off, wanna- wanna cum in you.” he patted your head. you gave his shaft one last lick and a kiss on the tip.

“oh man, honey badger you’re one lucky motherfucker.” wade stated.

you looked at him and smirked, sending him a air-kiss. logan just grabbed your face and kissed you, “ride me sweetheart, want to feel you so bad.” logan winced.

oh how you loved seeing logan like this so needy even if he doesn’t show it. the man is down bad for you.

you kissed his jaw, his hand gripped your hips as he helped you sink down his veiny and thick girth.

“so- so big lo- fill me so good- can feel you so deep.” you mumbled out, not sure your words had some sense.

after a few moments you started moving your hips slowly, occasionally grinding on logans thick cock.

“yes baby so tight, sucking me in like a little slut.” logan said making you moan, you loved when he talked to you while his dick was buried inside you.

“my girl, my pretty pretty girl.” logan whispered his hips slamming back to yours.

you looked to the side, checking on wade that was absolutely astonished by you. his eyes couldn’t leave yours, you tried saying something but you felt too good to even form a sentence.

you tried to speed up you movements, but your legs were wearing out which logan took advantage of and slammed you on your back.

his lips never left yours as he reentered you again. your eyes rolled back and your nails dug into his back which made logan moaned.

“squeezing me like a vice bub, let go for me love. give it to me baby.” he urged, his hips slamming into yours, “look at me when you cum.” he growled.

out of nowhere, your orgasm washed over you, your legs trembling, digging the heels of your legs into logan and moaning out logans name.

you looked so beautiful that it was hard for logan to keep it together. he fucked you over your orgasm ti near overstimulation.

“almost there baby.” he spoke up, reminding that he won’t hold for long.

“yeah want my cum sweetheart? gonna fill you up so good baby, fuck a baby into you.” he groaned, his hips stuttering as he shot his load into your overstimulated cunt.

logan fell on top of you, holding up by his hands. as you both calmed down, you kissed, slow and loving after sex make out. (as always)

“oh god, it should be illegal for you to be together. like fuck it’s not fair that both of you are so hot..” wade started speaking again.

you looked over to face logan again,

“at least now we know how to shut him up.”

[lovelookspretty]

lies for lunch

rafe cameron x reader

— in which y/n returns to her hometown, the outer banks, to work as ward cameron’s assistant at cameron development, but living under his roof for the summer leads to unexpected tension with his son, rafe.

warnings: animosity, rafes daddy issues, safe !!

authors note: for the sake of the story i need y/n or you or whatever to have a person of familiarity whos hung back in obx to act like you’ve known each other for years, SO U HAVE A FICTIONAL BROTHER 😭

for the past ten months, you’ve been working at cameron development, helping ward negotiate deals and obtain permits. it’s been almost like being his assistant through everything. what started as an internship turned into a full-time job with actual pay after all this time.

they were right—hard work and determination can really pay off. you just didn’t expect to get so lucky with how quickly things moved. after a series of private meetings where ward discussed traveling back to north carolina to work in his hometown, he suggested you come along.

the relationship isn’t weird or inappropriate. you’re one of the few employees ward genuinely appreciates, which is more than he can say about the burnouts that float through the company. since you’re from the outer banks yourself, ward thinks it makes sense to bring you along to continue working for him and the company for as long as possible.

but anyway, you’re absolutely thrilled to be back in the outer banks. it’s more than just a job opportunity—it’s a chance to reconnect with everything familiar, everything that’s been tugging at your heart since you left.

the occasional visits have been fine, enough to keep the homesickness at bay for a while, but that constant, quiet longing for the place you grew up never really goes away. but now? now you’re staying in obx for the summer. no more fleeting weekends, no more rushed goodbyes. you’ll have time to breathe, to soak it all in. to be home.

the airport air is still fresh in your lungs when you slide into the backseat of the car, your bags dumped beside you. before the door even clicks shut, your fingers are already scrolling through your contacts. there’s only one person you want to talk to right now—your brother.

“hey,” you say, stretching out the word, a grin tugging at your lips as you hear the familiar click of him picking up.

“hey,” comes his easy, laid-back reply, his voice filling the small space around you like it always does. like home. “did you land?”

you bounce slightly in your seat as the car hits a bump, your grip tightening on your phone for a second. “yeah,” you confirm, digging through your bag absentmindedly. “i’m about twenty minutes from figure 8, so i’ll be there around noon. are mom and dad home?”

there’s a slight pause on his end, the sound of him shifting around, probably sprawling lazily on the couch back home. “nah, they’re not,” he finally says. “i swung by to check, but i guess mom’s out at lunch with her friends, and dad’s working today.”

you let out an involuntary groan, the disappointment settling in your chest. of course, it would work out like this. “this is what i get for trying to surprise them.”

his voice comes back, laced with mild amusement. “it’s your fault for not announcing you’re coming a day earlier.”

he’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. instead, you plow forward. “look, can you at least call mom and ask if she can be home soon? ward wants me to head straight to him as soon as i land, but i really wanna stop by as soon as i can. i can’t be there later than two.”

on the other end, you can almost hear the exaggerated sigh that you know is coming. the kind that’s loaded with all the typical dramatics. he’s probably rolling his eyes too, even though you can’t see him. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mutters, clearly unable to resist playing up his irritation. “i’ll take care of it. just text me when you’re on your way. still can’t believe you’re working for wc.”

with that, the call ends abruptly, and you pull the phone away from your ear, blinking down at the screen in mild confusion. wc? who calls him wc? you furrow your brow, lips tugging into a slight frown as you shoot off a quick text to your brother.

‘ 1st, nobody calls him wc. and 2nd, what??? ’

your phone buzzes again. his reply is as cryptic as ever.

‘ just a coincidence that in ny u ended up working for someone from obx still. don’t u remember him growing up? ’

you stare at the message, trying to piece together what he’s talking about, until another text follows almost immediately.

‘ he has like 3 kids. rafe, sarah, wheezie. i saw rafe down at the pier a few weeks ago. we used to see them at parties when we were younger. ’

rafe? sarah? wheezie? none of those names ring a bell. you rack your brain, searching for some kind of recognition, but you come up empty. a soft laugh escapes you as you quickly type back, ‘idk who that is lmao sorry’ and lock your phone, leaning back in the seat with a sigh.

ward cameron has three kids. it’s a strange thing to realize, that the man you’ve been working for these past couple of years has an entire family you’ve never heard of. but then again, work was always work. personal details were rarely exchanged unless necessary. and now, you can’t help but think—would you meet them? would they be anything like ward?

your brother mentioned seeing one of them recently, so you can assume at least one of ward’s children still live here. you wonder if the rest do too.

your thoughts wander as the car turns down another road, bringing you closer to the heart of figure 8. it’s been a long time since you’ve been back here, long enough for some of the details to feel fuzzy, but the feeling of the place—that never changes. the salty air, the warmth of the sun filtering through the car windows, the sense of familiarity that sits low in your chest, almost like relief.

you try to imagine what the next few months will be like. working for ward in the outer banks is worlds apart from working for him in new york. for one, the pace is different—slower, more laid-back. and for another, you won’t be disappearing into a faceless crowd when the workday ends. you’ll be here, surrounded by people who might actually know your name. or at least remember your face.

the car slows down, the gravel beneath the tires crunching softly as you near the cameron estate.

“thank you!” you call out, waving as the driver pulls away, leaving you standing on the driveway with your bags at your feet. for a moment, you just stand there, taking it all in. the cameron house looms in front of you.

you bend down, grabbing the straps of your bags and hauling them up, careful not to drag them across the grass. even though this isn’t your home, there’s an odd comfort in the way it feels.

you’ve been here before—well, not here exactly, but close enough. working summer jobs in figure 8 as a teenager had given you a glimpse of this world. a world where you were always on the outside, always temporary. back then, you were just a girl from the cut, doing what you had to do to get by.

no one looked at you twice. but now? now you’re here for something more. wanted, even.

the thought of it makes your stomach twist with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. you adjust the weight of your bags on your shoulder and step up to the door, knocking firmly before dropping your things to the floor with a soft thud.

a small sigh of relief escapes your lips as you straighten up, rolling your shoulders to shake off the stiffness from the journey. you’ve been lugging these bags around for hours, and your arms are starting to feel like lead.

as you wait, you take a moment to fix your hair, fingers smoothing back stray strands that have fallen into your face. it’s only then that you hear a rustle in the bushes to your left. your heart skips a beat, and you freeze, mid-motion, your eyes flicking toward the sound. you stretch your neck slightly, peering over your shoulder, but there’s nothing. just silence. your pulse settles again, and you let out a quiet laugh at yourself.

the door suddenly swings open, and you drop your hands to your sides, your face breaking into a smile. standing in the doorway is a girl, and instantly, you’re struck by how put together she looks.

her long blonde hair cascades down her back, and she’s dressed in a cozy white knit sweater paired with shorts. it’s casual, effortless, but there’s something about it that screams figure 8 wealth. but what really catches your attention are her socks—brightly colored, with little monster faces peeking out from the tops.

you smile a little wider at the sight. you’re starting to like her already.

“hey, i’m y/n,” you introduce yourself, stepping forward and extending your hand.

“it’s so nice to meet you! i’m sarah,” she replies, her smile just as warm as she reaches out to shake your hand. her grip is firm but friendly, and before you know it, she’s ushering you inside with a wave of her hand. “come on in! my dad isn’t here right now, but i can actually show you to our guest room. it’s, like, right next to mine. it’s so homey. you’ll love it.”

her energy is almost overwhelming, but in a good way. she’s excited, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved.

“i mean, yeah, sure,” you say, bending down to grab your bags again. but before you can get a good grip, sarah is already stepping in to help, lifting one of the bags with ease. you follow her inside, the door clicking shut behind you as you enter the home.

it’s everything you expected and more—bright, airy, with high ceilings and tasteful decor. it’s the kind of place that feels almost untouchable, like something out of a magazine.

as you make your way toward the stairs, you can’t help but glance around, taking it all in. the house smells faintly of lemon and clean linens, and the soft hum of the air conditioner is the only sound that breaks the quiet. it’s beautiful, but it’s also a little intimidating.

“so, is there anyone else home that i should worry about if i, like, wanted to shower?” you ask as you follow sarah up the steps.

sarah shoots you a smile over her shoulder as she leads the way. “i think you’re good. my brother and sister are here, but they won’t bother you. wheezie’s doing her homework, and rafe . . . well, he’s probably not even home.”

her tone is casual, like she’s talking about the weather, but you can’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity. you remember your brother mentioning a rafe in his text earlier, but the name still doesn’t mean much to you. maybe you’ll meet him later, maybe not. either way, it’s not something you’re too concerned about right now.

you reach the guest room door, and sarah twists the knob, pushing it open with a flourish. “here! this is your room for the summer.”

you step inside, and your breath catches in your throat. it’s . . . gorgeous. simple, but elegant, with soft cream-colored walls and wide windows that let in streams of natural light. the bed is large, with crisp white sheets that look impossibly inviting, and there’s a small sitting area in the corner with a plush chair and a side table. it’s more than you ever expected.

“wow,” you breathe, your eyes sweeping over the room. “this is . . . really nice.”

sarah grins, setting your bag down on the chair. “told you! if you’re gonna shower, i’ll leave you to it. but if you need anything, my room’s right next to yours.” she gestures vaguely toward the door. “the bathroom’s across the hall from mine. my dad will probably be home in, like, half an hour? him and rose just ran out to do something before you got here.”

you nod, but your mind snags on the name—rose. ward’s wife. it’s funny, now that you think about it, how little you actually know about ward’s personal life. you’ve worked with him for years, but he’s always kept things strictly professional. it’s only now, standing in his home, that you’re realizing just how much of his life is a mystery to you.

sarah gives you one last smile before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind her. and just like that, you’re alone. you let out a long, slow breath, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the rings on your fingers as you take a moment to center yourself. it feels surreal, being here. like stepping into someone else’s life for a while.

you cross the room and pull back the curtains, revealing a stunning view of the island and for a moment, all your worries melt away. it’s beautiful here. peaceful. maybe this summer won’t be so bad after all.

you grab your bathroom bag and a fresh set of clothes, the weight of the morning starting to press on your shoulders as you make your way to the bathroom. you pause outside the door, hearing the muffled laughter of sarah and wheezie from across the hall.

their lighthearted chatter pulls a soft smile onto your lips, a sense of warmth in this house. it's comforting, in a strange way, to be surrounded by family—even if it's not your own.

the bathroom is sleek, modern, almost too luxurious compared to what you're used to. you lock the door behind you and let out a long, relieved breath. the hot water feels like an escape, like it's rinsing away the tension of the trip, the awkwardness of being in someone else’s home, and the nerves tangled in your chest about what comes next.

as the minutes pass, you try to calm the buzz in your mind. you know you need to hurry—the last thing you want is to be caught mid-shower when ward and rose return. you quickly towel off, pulling on your new clothes with an urgency that betrays your attempt to stay calm.

you grab your bag off the counter, unlock the bathroom door, and step back into the hallway. as you cross toward your room, you stop abruptly. there, by the door, are three guys, clearly in the middle of something. confusion furrows your brow—who are they? why are they here?

one of them has his back to you, looking into the room, while the others glance in your direction, the closest one nudging the other to signal your arrival. great. more people.

the one in the doorway catches your eye. his hand is rubbing his jaw, his stance casual, like he owns the place. for all you know, he does. his other hand is stuffed in his pocket, his expression unreadable as he turns toward you.

you can feel the weight of their stares, but you offer a polite smile, trying to act unbothered even though you feel a little out of place. honestly, the house is big enough for all of them, and you're too new to figure out who’s who just yet. you’re not even sure who lives here or if they’re just guests like you.

before any introductions can be made, ward’s voice booms from the front of the house, pulling you from the awkwardness of the moment. “is she here?”

you move past the tall boy, dropping your bag off in the guest room, and make your way downstairs. your heart leaps when you spot ward and rose. the grin that stretches across your face feels genuine, a relief after navigating the uncertainty of the last few hours.

“hey,” you say, stepping off the last stair to shake their hands. “thank you for letting me stay in your home, by the way. i met sarah. she’s great.”

ward gives you a friendly nod, his demeanor warm but business-like—he's already familiar with your work ethic and you know that he expects the same here.

“yeah, wait ‘til you meet rafe and wheezie, though,” he says, glancing at rose, who’s already inching away, clearly not interested in small talk, and it stings more than you’d care to admit. but you brush it off, focusing on the fact that you’re here for work, not approval.

“did sarah show you your room?” ward asks, guiding you toward the kitchen.

“yeah, she did!” you nod, falling into step beside him. “it’s really nice. i also used the shower, honestly. also super nice.”

he chuckles lightly, gesturing to the open space around you. “help yourself to anything while you're here. bathrooms, the kitchen, the living room—whatever you need as long as you're working with me here.”

when you reach the kitchen, ward turns to face you, and you're about to answer his question when the boys from earlier walk in, their presence shifting the energy in the room.

the tall one—who you now realize must be rafe—moves with an air of familiarity, heading straight for the fridge without so much as a glance your way, though his friends have sprawled out on the couch nearby, keeping half an eye on the situation.

“you grew up here?” rafe asks, pulling something from the fridge with a nonchalance that borders on arrogance. his tone isn’t rude, exactly, but there’s a challenge in his words, like he’s testing you.

you shift your weight slightly, feeling his attention on you now. “yeah, i did.”

“humor me,” he says before his father can talk, smirking as he continues, “figure 8 or the cut?"

there it is—the divide. figure 8, the land of privilege and wealth, versus the cut, where people like you are from. it's a question loaded with judgment, but you stand your ground.

you hesitate, unsure whether to entertain your boss’s son. “that’s . . .” you begin saying, noticing the small hint of a smile on his lips as he twists the bottle cap off. “i lived in the cut.”

ward quickly steps in, raising a hand to ease the tension. “y/n,” he says, using your name in a way that reminds you you’re under his wing here. “you don’t have to answer his questions.”

there’s a quiet pause before he officially introduces rafe, confirming what you already suspected. “this is rafe,” he says, nodding toward his son, who watches you intently. ward pauses as he brushed over it quickly, “and his friends,” like he doesn’t want to say it.

you give a small wave in return, feeling the awkwardness creep back in. you’re not sure what to make of the boys yet, but the dynamic between them feels . . . off. guarded. like there’s more going on than meets the eye.

ward claps his hands together, breaking the silence. “time for lunch. rafe, can you please tell sarah and wheezie to come down?” he asks, already heading toward the patio doors. “y/n, feel free to find a seat at the table.”

you murmur an ‘okay’ and follow ward outside, the breeze hitting your face as you step onto the patio. you take a moment to scan the setup, unsure where to sit, but ward motions for you to pick any spot. the table looks inviting, the outdoor space just as luxurious as the inside. it’s surreal, really, being here—like stepping into a different world entirely.

the table outside is a lavish spread, every dish meticulously placed as though the meal is a display of the cameron family's status. some of the food is freshly prepared, you can tell by the steam rising from the platters, while other dishes have clearly been delivered, probably from some upscale restaurant.

everything is pristine, almost too perfect for a casual lunch, but you remind yourself this isn’t just any ordinary lunch. this is a welcome—to ward’s world, to his home, and into the lives of the camerons.

this lunch wasn't really about you, though. it’s more of a formality for ward’s return to north carolina.

as you sit at the table, alone for now, your gaze drifts to the patio, the large windows giving you a glimpse into the house. your thoughts wander to art, and you can almost hear his voice in your head—his dry humor, his sarcastic quips. he’d love this, probably have a million things to say about the whole setup.

the camerons, so far, seem nice. well, most of them. sarah is definitely the easiest to get along with, the type of person you instantly feel comfortable around. but rose? you're not even sure she’ll show up for lunch. and rafe . . . you’re still figuring him out. there’s something about him, something unreadable that leaves you on edge.

as your eyes sweep around the room inside, they land on rafe. he's with his friends, the same group from earlier, laughing and talking like they don’t have a care in the world. there’s an ease about him when he’s with them, like he’s more at home in their company than anywhere else.

you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him feels . . . dangerous? no, maybe not dangerous, but unpredictable. like he could switch from charming to something much darker in the blink of an eye.

and then it happens—he looks at you. directly at you, like he knows you’ve been watching him. the way he smiles is almost smug, as if he’s aware of the effect he has on people, on you. your heart does a small flip, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze.

then, just as quickly, he says something to his friends, who erupt into laughter, and you feel the uncomfortable prick of self-consciousness. are they laughing at you? god, you hope not. the last thing you need is to be the butt of some joke you don’t understand.

you pull your focus away, trying to ignore the warmth creeping into your cheeks, and you shift in your chair, suddenly too aware of how out of place you feel. this isn’t your world, not yet at least. you’re still figuring out the rules, where you stand, who you can trust. it's like being in a play without knowing your lines.

“i know my kids are going to be a handful when they’re all together, so . . . be prepared for that,” ward’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you turn slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. there’s a warmth to his tone, something almost paternal. “but they’re good.”

you force a small smile and nod, though you’re not sure how much you believe him. you have a feeling ‘good’ might mean different things in the cameron household.

“you’re a year or two older than sarah,” he continues, and you turn back to face the table, focusing on the clean lines of the polished wood, the way the sunlight catches on the glassware. “you’re not that far off in age with rafe, either. sarah’s probably going to be your best friend. she can’t help it.”

there’s a lightness in his voice, and you get the sense that sarah is the glue that holds this family together, the one everyone relies on to keep things civil. “but rafe . . . he’ll warm up to you.”

will he? you can’t help the slight lift of your brows, amusement flickering in your expression as you consider his words. you don’t agree, but you can’t say that. something about rafe feels like he’s not the type to easily ‘warm up’ to anyone, especially someone like you—an outsider stepping into his territory.

“yeah,” you murmur, your tone filled with doubt, “i’m sure of it.”

the cameron family finally gathers at the long, polished table outside, sunlight filtering through the trees and casting dappled patterns across the plates. you take in the scene quietly as everyone finds their places, the quiet shuffle of chairs pulling out, scraping slightly against the patio stones.

it’s a family affair, but rafe’s friends have tagged along—an addition that seems unsanctioned by ward but tolerated nonetheless. ward positions himself at one head of the table, with you and sarah flanking either side of him like you’re all part of some carefully orchestrated tableau.

rafe is at the opposite end, far enough that the distance feels intentional, deliberate. you can’t help but notice how he’s checked out, his gaze drifting, uninterested. to your right, one of his friends, the blond one, settles beside you, and his presence feels awkward, like he’s trying to take up as little space as possible, aware of the invisible tension in the air.

on the other side of him, the other friend sits, both of them quiet for now. down sarah’s side, wheezie sits next to her sister, then rafe at the very end. the empty chair beside wheezie feels like a gap. technically it’s rose’s chair if she were to have changed her mind.

“so what are you?” wheezie asks, breaking the initial silence, and you can see sarah’s immediate reaction, the quick glance she shoots her sister, a mild scolding in her eyes.

the phrasing is blunt, too blunt, but then again, wheezie is a kid—still learning the art of conversation, still figuring out the way words land.

before you can answer, ward steps in, his voice calm but authoritative. “y/n is my assistant,” he says, filling in the blank you hadn’t yet decided how to describe. you pause mid-chew, a small bite of food lingering on your tongue as you listen to him explain. “she’ll be working with me here in north carolina for cameron development over the next few months.”

you nod slightly, not sure how to react to being discussed like you’re not there. you’ve been in situations like this before, professionally at least, but it feels different now, being talked about in front of his family. a piece of you wants to assert yourself, to explain your role in your own words, but it feels like there’s no room for that right now. so, you stay quiet.

“that’s cool,” sarah says, her voice warm and genuine as she glances over at you, a small, encouraging smile on her face. she seems like the type who would get along with almost anyone, a natural mediator. “what do you do? as his assistant and all.”

from the corner of your eye, you catch rafe’s subtle shift, his gaze flicking toward sarah, his expression sharp for a moment, like he’s not interested in this conversation but is still somehow annoyed by it. you wonder what’s behind that look, what tension simmers under the surface.

you swallow and clear your throat, aware that everyone’s waiting for your answer now. “uh, yeah,” you start, your voice sounding more casual than you intend, like you’re trying to downplay your actual responsibilities.

“your dad has his job—he oversees the projects, handles the big picture stuff. i come along when he needs help with negotiating contracts and leases, hiring architects, engineers, contractors, all that. i also scout available land for potential developments.” you pause, glancing around the table. “just stuff like that.”

there’s a moment of silence, and for a second, you think maybe your explanation was enough. but then, like a crack in the veneer, rafe speaks, almost mockingly, “do you also get him coffee whenever he asks? do you fuck him, too?”

his words hit like a punch, unexpected and crude, cutting through the air with a kind of reckless confidence that leaves you momentarily stunned. for a second, the table feels frozen, like no one’s quite sure how to react.

the blond boy next to you nearly chokes on his food, a strangled half-laugh escaping before he catches himself, suddenly aware that rafe’s comment shouldn’t be funny.

your stomach twists, a flush of heat creeping up your neck as you force yourself to stay composed, staring straight at rafe from across the table. his gaze is fixed on you, unflinching, like he’s testing you, waiting to see how you’ll respond.

it’s infuriating—the audacity of it, the way he tosses out the insult so casually, like it’s no big deal.

ward sets his fork down with a soft clink against the plate, his fingers intertwining as he leans forward slightly. the tension shifts, thickening around the table, and you can feel every set of eyes on you, but your focus remains on rafe.

“rafe,” ward’s voice is calm, measured, but there’s a warning in it. and yet, rafe doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch. he stays locked onto you, like you’re locked in some kind of silent standoff, and part of you wonders what he’s trying to prove.

after a beat of silence, ward adds, “can i talk to you inside the house?” it’s not really a question, more of a command, and finally, rafe moves. slowly, he pulls the napkin from his lap, tossing it onto the table before rising from his seat.

ward turns to you, his expression softening into something apologetic, and you nod slightly, acknowledging his silent apology even though you’re not sure what to do with it. as they disappear inside, the tension lingers, heavy and uncomfortable.

you force yourself to take another bite of food, though it feels like chewing cardboard. the uneasy feeling coils tighter in your chest. this is off to a rocky start, to say the least. sarah and wheezie seem fine, but rafe . . . rafe’s going to be a problem.

sarah reaches across the table, her hand brushing lightly against yours, and you glance up to meet her eyes. there’s sincerity in her expression, a quiet kind of empathy. “i’m so sorry for him,” she says softly. “rafe has a tendency to act like an idiot on a daily basis. don’t let anything he says get to you.”

before you can respond, the blond boy—topper, you think—finally speaks, his voice quiet but carrying a hint of amusement. “he doesn’t have a tendency to act like an idiot every day,” he says, shaking his head slightly as he takes another bite of food, a small smile playing on his lips. it’s the first thing he’s said to you directly, and the casualness of it surprises you.

“oh, he absolutely does,” sarah retorts with a light laugh. “and i’m sure you get yours from him.” she turns to you, smiling again. “y/n, this is topper and kelce, if you hadn’t already been introduced.”

before you can say anything, wheezie pipes up quickly, almost as if she’s sharing a secret, “sarah and topper used to date.” her voice is soft, but the reaction from sarah and topper is immediate—they both look over at her, like this was something she wasn’t supposed to say out loud.

“what?” wheezie says, glancing around the table innocently.

you can’t help but smile at the sibling dynamics playing out in front of you. it reminds you of your own relationship with your brother, the way siblings know each other’s secrets, their histories, the things that outsiders wouldn’t catch unless they were paying attention. in this brief moment, amidst the tension, you find a sliver of familiarity, of something you recognize.

you pull your napkin off your lap, rising from your seat, feeling the tension still clinging to your skin like humidity. you adjust your clothes, smoothing down fabric that doesn’t need smoothing, but it gives your hands something to do.

“where’s the nearest bathroom inside?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you can feel the strain in your voice, the way your words almost trip over themselves.

“once you’re in the kitchen, it should be the door in the hallway if you just keep walking straight,” sarah tells you, offering a small smile. you nod in response, forcing yourself to return the gesture, though it feels hollow.

you step away from the table, and sarah seizes the moment to nudge wheezie, probably to scold her for spilling her relationship drama with topper.

as you make your way toward the bathroom, your steps slow. it’s not like you really need to go. you glance behind, making sure no one’s paying attention, before diverting your path to the front door instead. the knot in your stomach tightens with every step.

the front door is slightly ajar, and through the opening, you spot rafe. he’s leaning back in a chair on the porch, his head tilted toward the sky as if it’s the only thing he can stand to look at.

ward’s standing near him, mid-conversation, and their voices pull you in, despite knowing you shouldn’t eavesdrop. you lean against the doorframe, just out of sight, your heartbeat quickening.

“you didn't have to fly out some girl that works at the company just because she’s doing good,” rafe says, lifting his head from the chair, his voice tinged with frustration, like he’s been holding it in for too long. “i could've taken the job, especially because i’m already here.”

there’s bitterness in his words, but beneath that, you catch something else—something raw. rafe’s trying to understand why he’s being left out, why he’s not the one ward trusts.

“exactly, rafe,” ward replies, his tone firmer than before. “you're twenty-one and you’re still here. she’s twenty and she's been working with me for nearly two years. don’t you think that says something?”

his words land heavily, and for a moment, there’s silence. you feel the weight of the comparison ward’s making, and it sinks into you too, even though it shouldn’t. rafe chuckles, standing up, but it’s not out of amusement. it’s a defense mechanism, a way to shield himself from whatever hurt ward’s words are causing.

“y/n is here because she’s good at what she does,” ward continues, his voice steadier now, trying to end the conversation.

“alright, dad,” rafe says, nodding, but his expression betrays his words. “let's say i believe that—because i don’t—why am i not in her place?”

ward sighs, shaking his head like he doesn’t understand how rafe isn’t getting it. “rafe, think about what kind of job she has. how could i trust you with that?”

the words sting, and even though they aren’t directed at you, you feel a strange sense of guilt crawling under your skin. you know you’ve earned your place, worked hard for it. but hearing it spelled out like this, in such a stark contrast to rafe, it makes you feel . . . uncomfortable.

rafe rubs his chin, his fingers brushing against the stubble there. he doesn’t say anything, just nods like he’s processing it all, or maybe pretending to. he turns to head back inside.

and that’s when he sees you, standing there, caught in the act of listening.

his eyes lock onto yours, and for a second, you don’t know what to do. your throat tightens, but you force yourself to keep your head high. you can’t apologize. you don’t need to. this is your job, after all, the one you’ve worked damn hard for.

still, the silence stretches between you, heavy and uncomfortable. rafe doesn’t say anything, just turns away, walking back out toward the patio. you exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath. the knot in your stomach only tightens as you push yourself off the doorframe and head toward the bathroom, your footsteps almost echoing in the stillness of the hallway.

you stop in front of the bathroom door, staring at it like it might hold some answers you don’t have. your hand reaches for the knob, your fingers curling around it, but you don’t turn it. instead, you stand there, replaying the conversation in your head, trying to make sense of what you’ve just heard. rafe’s resentment, ward’s trust in you—it’s a lot to take in, and you wonder if you’re supposed to feel . . . what? proud? guilty? it’s hard to pin down.

before you can figure it out, you hear footsteps approaching. your hand drops from the doorknob just as ward’s voice reaches you.

“hey,” he says, his tone softer now, though there’s still an edge of frustration lingering there, probably from his conversation with rafe. “you and the girls getting along good?”

you plaster on a smile, nodding even though your thoughts are still tangled from the scene outside. “yeah, we’re good.”

ward mutters a small ‘good, good’ as he walks past you, heading back to the patio. you watch him go, your arms crossing over your chest as if that’ll hold you together. you follow behind him slowly, a quiet unease settling in your chest. this family, with all its complications, feels like a storm you’ve just walked into.

and then there’s rafe. if he already resents you, you can only imagine how his friends—topper and kelce—will react. boys like them, they stick together, and you know that dynamic all too well. the chances of them giving you a fair shot seem slim.

you brace yourself as you step back outside, a small sigh slipping past your lips. this job, this place—it’s not going to be easy. but nothing worth it ever is, right?

“so you're from the outer banks?” sarah asks as soon as you sit back down. there’s an edge to her voice, like she’s making an effort to seem casual but is still trying to figure you out. you can’t blame her. she’s probably just trying to get a feel for who you are, maybe ease the tension that’s been hanging in the air since you got here.

“where from?” she adds, glancing at you over the rim of her glass.

you pause, fork hovering just above your plate, feeling a flicker of unease. it’s a simple enough question, but you can already feel the weight of your answer.

“near quinton,” you say, cutting into your food with deliberate care, keeping your tone light. “a little south.”

you don’t look up as you speak, focusing on the neat little slices you’re making in your lunch, as if perfecting that action could keep the conversation from slipping into uncomfortable territory.

“i’m surprised we haven’t met before today,” you continue, the lie slipping out so smoothly you almost believe it yourself. “my friends and i knew just about everyone before i left the island.”

but the truth sits heavily in your stomach. you don’t know them. sure, your brother mentioned that your families had crossed paths when you were younger, but the memories never stuck. whatever brief moments there were, they’ve faded into the backdrop of your childhood.

rafe, however, doesn’t let your words slide by as easily. he latches onto them like a dog with a bone, straightening in his seat, eyes gleaming with interest.

“your friends?” his voice cuts through the air, almost too eager, too sharp. it’s like he’s waiting for you to say something wrong, give him an opening to tear into you. sarah watches him warily, her eyes flicking between you and her brother. she’s looking for help—maybe from her dad—but the tension is palpable, thickening by the second.

your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and the vibration pulls you from the uncomfortable scrutiny rafe’s casting in your direction.

“who do you know here?” he presses, and his tone is challenging now, like he’s daring you to prove something to him. to justify your place here, in this house, at this table.

you lift your gaze then, meeting his eyes with a steady look, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. but there’s something in the way he’s staring at you that makes your skin crawl, like he’s already made up his mind about you, about what kind of person you are.

it’s fucking exhausting.

“hate to interrupt you, ray,” you say, letting a mocking lilt creep into your voice as you rise from your seat. you keep your movements controlled, measured, not too rushed. “but i have a phone call.”

you pull your phone from your pocket, waving it slightly, feeling a small rush of satisfaction when rafe’s jaw clenches ever so slightly. “let me just take that really quick so we can continue our conversation.”

you don’t wait for his response, because you know whatever he says will just add to the irritation simmering beneath your skin. as you step out of the way, you hear him mutter, “it’s rafe,” under his breath, like correcting you is somehow important to him.

“it’s actually my brother!” you whisper-yell back, flashing the screen of your phone in his direction, making sure he sees the call.

as you walk away, you feel the tension ease just slightly, but it’s still there, humming beneath the surface. this place—figure eight, tannyhill—it’s like a tangled web, and you’ve just stepped into it, with people like rafe already ready to watch you stumble.

you press your phone to your ear as you step out of the patio and into the cool air of the home, and you try to calm yourself, leaning against the wall as your brother’s voice greets you on the other end.

you know you’ll have to go back in there, face rafe again, but for now, you allow yourself a brief moment to breathe.

considering making this a few-part series (maybe) !! let me know if you’d be interested thru replies, anons, or dms <3

@tiaamberxx

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒔 ~

(Past) Rhysand x OC, (Eventual) Azriel x OC Part 2 of Betrayal

Summary: He was out of his mind with grief. Azriel had been through his fair share of trauma. He had seen and done horrific things, but that was always with Adelaide by his side. Now, he didn't know what to do, and he was losing it. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, grief, Hurt/No Comfort

His limbs ached as he stood up from his chair. He had been sitting there so long that walking felt much harder than it usually did.

He rubbed the haze from his eyes while walking to the door, the incessant knocking making his headache worse.

"Fuck, Az. You look- how do you- do you want me to..." Cassian stood in front of his brother, a man he'd known for 500 years, and didn't recognize the person he saw.

It had been the first time in almost 2 months that Cassian's knocks were answered. He had come to her room, everyday, multiple times a day, to plead with his brother to talk to him, to eat something, to just let Cassian look at him so he could see he was alive.

Azriel said nothing as he turned around and went back to the chair he had been occupying. Cassian closed the door behind him as he took in the room.

It was the same as it had been the day she left. Even though this had been the place Azriel spent most of his days, the Shadowsinger had kept it all the same, only touching her bed that he would sleep in the nights he could stomach it, or the chair he was currently in now.

A mess of papers on the desk brought tears to Cassian's eyes. Adelaide, sweet and caring Adelaide, had been making a list of Solstice gifts for her family when she was called to join some of the Inner Circle on a meeting all those months ago. A meeting that had been a trap for them. A meeting that ended up taking her life.

Azriel cleared his throat when Cassian went to pick up a piece of paper. He had tried to hard to keep her room clean while also not disturbing things from the spot she had put them in.

"Nesta told me that her and Elaine have been leaving you food but it remains untouched."

"Is there a question, brother?" Azriel asked. His voice had always been rough, and he had always been more on the quiet side, but Cassian could tell that because of lack of use, it hurt him to speak.

"Why aren't you eating? How can we get you to? I would do anything, Az." he pleaded.

The spymaster didn't answer.

"Whats the end goal? Believe me, if you want 1,000 years to mourn her, I will be with you every step of the way. I've tried to give you space, but you are killing yourself! You sit in here all day, only coming out when everyone is asleep or gone. What do you need to care about your life again?"

He was met with a distracted look from Azriel.

His brother was never distracted. He was never careless. He hadn't missed a day of training for no reason in hundreds of years. Cassian knew he still trained every once in a while, but Azriel always found times to do it when no one else was around.

Azriel didn't have an answer for Cassian, at least not one he would like.

How could I care for my life when her's is over? he thought. By the desperate look on Cassian's face, he could tell his brother knew the answer.

"I lost her too. I know it was different with the two of you, you were each others'... person, but she was as much my sister as you are my brother. I didn't... I didn't even get to say goodbye." Cassian finally broke at the confession. He hadn't let himself think about it, he had to keep himself together for Azriel. "The last time I talked to her, we where fighting over food. She stole the slice of cake I had saved for myself, I called her an inconvenience and a burden, she called me a spoiled bat who needs to learn to share." He let out a bittersweet laugh at the memory. They were usually at each others' throats, and when they weren't, they were teamed up to annoy someone else in their family. But they loved each other, always were there for one another, except in the end, when it mattered most.

"24 hours later, I was picking out the sarcophagus my sister was going to be laid in. I would have let her have all of my leftovers, all of my desert, if it meant I just got one last conversation with her." Choking up, Cassian sank to the floor, a wave of familiar grief washing over him.

Azriel joined him, crying as he hugged his brother.

The two illyrians, sat like that for a while. Long after their tears had dried, long after the sun had gone down, Cassian finally spoke up.

"Why don't you go see her? Visiting helps me, talking to her even though I know she can't hear is something I do often."

In truth, Azriel hadn't gone to his best friend's mausoleum since the funeral. He couldn't see her like that, couldn't come to terms with it.

These past 6 months had been dark. Everyone was mourning her, many of the people of Velaris included, but none more than Azriel. Part of him had died, laid in the cold marble box that held her body. For the first few months, he had completely disconnected from reality. He went on with his daily routine, he trained, ate, went on missions, did paperwork, slept. But it was as it he was on autopilot, as if the real Azriel had been asleep that whole time.

Two months ago, he woke up. It was sudden, he had gone to his room for the first time in a while to grab some books that had been long overdo at the library, and the priestesses had kindly told him if they didn't get them back he would be banned for life.

Thats when he saw the blanket on the chair by his desk. She had given it to him over a century ago. It was a birthday present, a wool blanket that was enchanted to smell like her always. She had played it off as a self centered gift, so he doesn't forget about his favorite person while away on missions, in front of their friends, but Azriel knew it wasn't that. Adelaide had always been a master gift giver, and she also knew Azriel had trouble sleeping most nights, but he never had any problems falling asleep on the couch next to her after a long night of conversations, wrapped comfortably in her own wool blanket.

He hadn't slept without it till the night she died.

Then, he picked it up, trying to see if the enchantment still worked. And that was all it took for him to wake up. It was awful, every bad feeling he had been too far disassociated to feel hit him at once. He curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his hands and stayed there for days, silent tears never ceasing to fall.

After getting yelled at by Madja, who Nesta had called to knock some sense into him, he got up and went to her room, where he remained most of his days.

He sat in the chair in the corner of the room, only eating to quiet his stomach, and tried as hard as he could to detach himself from the never ending agony that was his life now.

He told Cas he would see her, the general's face lighting up at the news.

He felt guilty, making Cassian so happy for something he knew would later destroy him.

Hours after Cassian had left the room, as the sun came up, Azriel went to his room to grab the blanket he hadn't touched in 2 months. Then he grabbed Truth Teller, wrote his final request, and went to see Adelaide.

The building was large, and beautifully constructed. He would have been happy that she had a resting place deserving of her, but he knew Rhysand only spent that much money and made it this beautiful to try and lighten the guilt he felt.

The Shadowsinger stopped by the entrance, the sarcophagus without a lid placed up on the platform.

Before the funeral, Helion had come to place a enchantment on her body that would keep it preserved.

It had been a show of good will, Adelaide had been head of the Night Court's scholarly texts, education, and research. The two had met to have academic conversations at least once every few months for decades.

But as Azriel looked down at her, it felt like a cruel punishment from Helion.

6 months later, she was still as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her, and she was still just as dead.

This was where he would remain, his final request was to be laid to rest in the same building. He would be adding unnecessary pain onto his loved ones who had suffered so much already, but for the first time in his life, Azriel had decided to put himself in front of his family.

Looking her over one last time, he realized he was now completely numb.

Azriel held the gifted blanket and went to take off the one she currently had. Based off the fact it seemed to have been picked out with meticulous care to match Adelaide's coloring, and her outfit, there was no doubt it had been placed their by Mor.

On her lap, previously being covered by the blanket, laid a large and very old book.

Had one of the scholars she worked with placed it? One of the educators?

Strange marks littered the cover, but no title. Not till he opened the first page did he see what it was.

The Walking Dead

A cruel pick. Who would ever leave such a book with a corpse?

The second page was blank, so was the third, so was the fourth. Thumbing through the book, Azriel just about gave up looking at the blank pages when he finally found one with writing.

It seemed to be a poem, but it was formatted too strangely.

The title at the top read Eternally Intertwined.

A spell.

He almost dropped the book at the realization.

No one had left this book, it had been fate that had given it to him, kept it here waiting for him to stumble upon it.

He knew what he needed to do.

[kitsuga]

PREFECT open the door {Ace Trappola x Reader/MC/Yuu}

Description: 

A fic in which Ace tries to move into the Ramshackle Dorm.

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Tags: fluff, honestly. i feel ace. i too would try to flirt and fail so horribly, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, you can assume reader/mc is yuu!, twisted wonderland x reader/mc/yuu, twst x reader/mc/yuu, twisted wonderland/twst, ace trappola x reader/mc/yuu, ace trappola 

Word Count: 1,899

A/N: Written on: February 12, 2022 

One of my sisters loves him and begged for some ace content so here it is LKJSDFKJSDF 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I thought the little punk was getting better—so why the hell is this thing on me again!”  

Ace pushed past the hardly awake MC and flopped down on the dusty couch in the lounge. His long, heavy sigh shook his whole body; he launched into his complaint again, not noticing that MC had barely shuffled into the room behind him. 

“Who told him there was a rule for stepping into the room with your right foot first if it’s past 9 P.M. Who!? I get my head taken for something stupid like that!” 

“Was it that you stepped into the room with the wrong foot, or you argued with him?” 

“How could you accuse me of something like that!” 

MC rubbed their eyes, taking a long sigh before they spoke again. 

“What did you say to him?” 

“...I didn’t SAY anything.” 

“What did you do.” 

Ace’s lips twisted to the side with a huff as he refused to make eye contact with them. Boring a hole in the side of his head, MC sat and waited for him to paint the picture of his own demise.  

“I.... kmcked’m,” he mumbled. 

“You what?” 

“I kicked him!” Ace shouted, throwing his hands up in the air, letting them fall alongside the rest of his body, slouching further into the couch. “He turned around after yelling at me and I just, I kicked the back of his knee—I didn’t kick him that hard!” 

“Ace.” MC held their face in their hands, disappointment completely evident in their voice. 

“It wasn’t even genuinely a kick—it was more of a push!” 

“Ace.” They growled from behind their hands.  

“You know I love hearing my name and all--” 

“Stop talking.”  

The two of them sat in silence for a moment; Ace snuck a few looks over at MC, making sure to retract his gaze if they made a move to look back at him. As though it were their new catchphrase, MC sighed heavily once again and smacked their knees, pushing themselves up off the couch.  

“Well, you dug your own grave, Trappola. Sucks to be you.” 

“Aw, come on, Prefect!” 

“What do you mean ‘aw come on’? What do you expect me to do? You’re lucky there wasn’t a bigger consequence for you—like being kicked from school for violence.” 

“One little kick, really?” 

“You’re talking about Riddle. Yes, one little kick.”  

MC pushed Ace’s head playfully, moving him around on the couch a bit which was met with his protests. They ignored him as he called out to them by name, simply waving their hand to dismiss his words while climbing the stairs. Over their shoulder, they wished him sweet dreams and shut down whatever he was saying by suggesting he sleep by pointing out the extra blanket draped over the armchair in the living room. Ace sat back on the couch with his arms crossed, lips twisted to the side in a heavy pout as he watched them disappear up the stairs, his eyes lingering where they fell out of his sight for a few extra moments. 

The redheaded boy sighed, knowing that MC was probably right—not that he’d tell them, anyway. He made his bed and he had to lie in it—both figuratively and in actuality; dusting off the older couch, he laid on his back and wrapped himself in the blanket all after he had turned off the lights. He lay with his eyes closed, trying his hardest to get comfortable with the bulky collar around his neck. He twisted, turned, and sighed more times than he could count—counting it may have helped him to fall asleep at this point. Ace opened his eyes to stare at the crumbling ceiling above him, his eyes dragging over each piece of the spider's webs that decorated the place. The night would not take him. 

Nor would the shadows. Nor would his mind. Everything fought sleep as his brain constantly moved its gears, but no actual thoughts had come to his mind. Ace was missing something—longing for something. There was a reason Ace had run to the Ramshackle Dorm rather than simply retreating to his room—and that reason had moved to their own bed upstairs. An hour or two had passed since he first laid down, but he was getting too antsy now; he threw the blanket off him and jumped to his feet in a huff. 

Even if he tiptoed, the old wooden stairs creaked and moaned beneath his feet; each one made him wince, so he had given up. He was sure MC would have been up by now anyway with the sounds, so he rushed the rest of the way to their room, throwing open the door. 

A sliver of moonlight illuminated MC. Grim had curled up at the foot of the bed as their back had faced the door; they turned to look over their shoulder at Ace as he stood in the doorway. Their voice had matched their face—emotionless and stoic. 

“What.” 

“Prefect.” 

“Yes, Ace. What.” 

He hurried over to the bed, throwing himself onto his hands and knees on top of it to slightly hover over MC as they turned to their back to meet his eyes. 

“Let me move into your dorm.” 

“...Get out of my room.” 

“MC, please!” 

“No. Good night, Ace.” 

Ace bounced on the bed which was met with groans from both MC and Grim, who was doing his best to ignore Ace.  

“Seriously! Let me move in. I’ll transfer over to your dorm, and I’ll never have to deal with the little tyrant again!” 

“You can’t, Ace. Now go to sleep.” 

“Come on!” 

“No. Now, shut up.” 

“You’re being unreasonable!” Ace shook the bed once again, ignoring Grim’s shout at him to knock it off. 

“Good night, Ace.” 

MC turned to their side to face him and closed their eyes tight in hopes that their friend would take the hint and leave; they smiled slightly to themselves when they felt the weight of his body leave the bed but frowned deeply when they felt a gust of cold hit them. They opened their eyes to find his staring back at them, only a few spare inches between them.  

“Fine, if you won’t let me into your dorm, then let me into your bed!” 

They groaned when he wiggled an arm underneath them and pulled himself even closer; Ace held them close and with a devilish grin, nuzzled his nose against their cheek even as they tried to turn their face away. MC hissed each time the lock of his collar rammed into them. He could almost feel the heat of their blush traveling up their face as he continued getting as close as he could to them, keeping an arm around them to hold his position; they didn’t attempt to free themselves, just drew their eyebrows together and frowned even deeper. 

“You’re already in my bed!” They lightly kicked his shin. “Out.” 

“Okay, then let me into your bed every night.” 

MC was surely paying attention now as it was Ace’s turn to start trying to fight off a blush; unfortunately for him, the sliver of moonlight was showing all his cards. He turned his face away from them and tried his hardest to look annoyed, but it was difficult to turn away as the collar around his neck was pretty bulky.  

It was best to come clean, right? Ace battled with his pride, his confidence, and his now flustered and racing heart. He stammered a bit but tried his best to hold his head up high despite his limited movement and looked down his nose at MC, who was still only inches away from his own face. 

“Well, I mean—yeah. I said what I said. Maybe I want to crawl into your bed every night. It’d be a lot easier to do if you just let me move into your dorm.” 

“Ace--” 

“Look, I came to see you ‘cause I was upset, yeah—but I really like when you comfort me. You’re still so nice under that irritating dismissiveness, and you’re always ready to help me out but still put me in my place. I think you’re kind of dumb but, you know, in a cute way, and I just—arhg!”  

Ace wiped his face with his free hand as though he could wipe off his embarrassment or the crimson colour off of his skin; he felt like the shadows in the room were laughing at him. He opened his eyes back up to find MC’s staring back at him, an unreadable emotion pooling within them. 

“So... how ‘bout now? Will you let me into your dorm?” 

The two of them sat in silence for a bit, the room heavy with emotion; Ace was just thankful Grim was asleep and missed his confession or he’d never hear the end of his embarrassment. He bit his tongue as MC blinked a few times, looking between his eyes and scanning his face for any hint of him messing with them—he knew that look anywhere. He stared at them a bit harder, trying to silently indicate the authenticity of his confession; his eyes started to wander down to their lips, however, and found himself swallowing hard before subconsciously leaning in slowly to bridge the small gap between the two of them. 

“No.” MC pushed his face away gently, playfully. 

Ace groaned and grabbed them by the wrist, moving their hand and returning his face to his previous spot. 

“What do you mean no--” 

“No, you can’t transfer to my dorm. It’s impossible.” 

“Oh, so the no wasn’t for the kiss?” His devilish grin was evident in his voice. His face was pushed away again after another attempt to lean in; he met this action with a repeat of his groan and moving MC’s hand. 

“What you can do, besides move into my dorm, is go apologize to Riddle tomorrow.” 

“Uhg.” 

“I’ll go with you, it’ll be fine.” 

MC brushed a rogue strand of hair out of Ace’s face, softly caressing his cheek a moment before intertwining their fingers with his and placing their hands in the space between their faces. 

“We can go on a date once you get that annoying collar off. Then, you can kiss me the right way.” 

Ace’s eyes went wide before growing hooded, a genuine, loving smile accompanying his gaze on the person in front of him. He knew it was the right choice to come seek comfort in their loving arms, and he was glad he had pushed himself to annoy them; the blanket downstairs wasn’t even a fraction as warm as he was enveloped in the feelings between the two of them, and the couch was certainly not as soft and inviting.  

So, he couldn’t move into their dorm, but he could move into their heart—as cliché as he was to admit it. Ace was thankful for a friend like the Prefect, and even more thankful for a lover like MC. His soft gaze turned back into the person in front of him, watching as they had slowly started to drift back to sleep; Ace knew he shouldn’t open his mouth, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “You never answered about that ‘in your bed every night’ thing. That still on?” 

“Shut up, Ace.” 

[gothic-thoughts]

Hello! 👋🏾 Your knight!Ghost and Princess!reader was so fun to read｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

If you feel like it, Could you do a continuation? Like where ghost escorts her through the village because she kept complaining about it( and maybe they do something semi-public, like in the carriage or any alleyway)

Or maybe something risky in the palace, or just furthering their escapades in her bedroomJust some ideas!

I write too, so I get if you're not inspired by this or if you are and it takes a while lol

just hope it sparked some ideas(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

All of them did thx sm 🙏🏾💙💙 I made this story a lot deeper than it was 😅😅 long story incoming

Part 1 is right here, but it's not required to read this tho

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The Truth

Ghost Riley x Black Fem Reader Angsty Smut

MDNI, Virgin!Reader, Princess!Reader, Black Knight!Ghost

CW: a lil angsty corruption kink??, semi-public smashing (castle library), afab parts, talking through it, fingering, riding

Word Count: 2525 (give or take)

Even after Ghost touched her in the bathtub, the Princess was still hellbent on seeing the fountain near the village entrance or the village in general, and not just from her balcony. The Black Knight wasn’t verbally rejecting her request anymore, opting to stand there with folded arms and cold eyes.

"What the hell is so special about that damn fountain, anyway?"

“I don't know! I’ve seen people throw coins into it after making a wish and I have to try it! It’s unfair!”

"What’s unfair is you being so hellbent on getting yourself killed. Are you in denial at how dangerous your town is?”

“Ugh, now you sound like my father; it's our village, why would my people want to hurt me?”

He raised his eyebrows as his eyes widened.

"You...think... the people in this village actually care about you?"

“Um, of course they do.” She laughs, backing up, “Did you forget I’m the princess? They may not know me to love me, but they surely care.”

"Oh they care alright— they care how easy you’ll be to rob... or worse.”

“Oh please, Simon, that’s a bit dramatic.”

“The moment you walk out there unprotected, they'd rip you apart. Just be thankful you haven’t been caught by anyone out there when you sneak out."

“I don't believe that...”

"You don't believe it?"

“No.”

“Jesus, your father’s a worse King than I thought. Makes sense he’s an even worse father.”

“Hey! He may be a pain, but watch your tongue.”

“I’ll watch my tone when he goes back in time and tells his daughter what people do when they’re desperate, especially the people in this town. Because I can tell you holding people for ransom, robbing and even killing is never off the table— they might even do it for fun.”

“Simon, stop!”

He laughs, “You know what, I’ll teach you myself. Maybe there’s a book in the library on betrayal and human nature.”

“You mean any book in there that I somehow haven't read a thousand times?”

“Let’s go, it'll give you something to do besides complain and piss me off all night."

Ghost steps out of the way to reveal the door across her room, gesturing for her to take the lead, allowing (Y/n) to lead. Once in the library, the Princess walked through the biology books, calling out everyone that she’d read already— and she was right, it was most if not all. They then moved to the history book aisle, her fingers skimming past all the books' spines while her guard followed close behind silently, watching.

“Find anything yet?”

She groans, turning to face him. “Of course not, maybe because I read all these already! Ugh, besides some of them are missing.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean missing?”

“These books have been lost for forever, I think.”

“And nobody has tried to look for them?"

“I don't know, my father told me they went missing around the time he became King.”

“Around? Lost? What could've possibly happened to these books for them to just disappear?"

“I don't know, perhaps they were lost in the move...”

He almost laughs, "Lost in the move?"

“Don’t laugh! He’s not of royal blood, he was elected in by the old King before he passed!”

“Oh, I know; the biggest news in the land was when a common blacksmith took his place.”

“Simon—” 

“But you’ve never seen a bookstore, so you wouldn’t know that most books don’t look like...” He gestures to the golden spines on the shelves, “...This. So a common blacksmith couldn’t have bought them.” 

“I... I-I don’t know! I never really noticed or thought about until now... I was too young and they’re just books so I never asked again...”

"Good, you're learning.”

“Why would he hide books...?”

Ghost crossed his arms, giving (Y/n) a look as if it were a rhetorical question.

"Do you really have to ask? There is a reason he keeps you in this castle, isolated and dumb like this."

She blinks, “...Because I'm young...?”

“Because your father knows what those villagers are capable of."

“But all the times I snuck out, the few people I met were nice... They had to have known, the only I don't wear is my jewelry.”

"Why’s that?”

“In case something falls off while I'm sneaking out and leaves evidence to my routes...”

He chuckled, "You may be craftier than I initially thought."

“I'm naïve, not stupid.”

The Princess starts to walk to the bookkeeper’s desk to see if the books are over there, impressing Ghost with her newfound determination. She climbs over the desk and crouches under to look for the books and to her surprise, there is a stack of missing books sitting right where the bookkeeper would be standing. She gasps and grabs them, standing back up to place the 10 books on the desk for Ghost to see while she reads off the titles.

“So, she...” (Y/n) trails off, “The bookkeeper knew about this too...”

"Do you trust her?”

“I trust all the staff... at least I did.” The Princess gasps, “That's why he hired you to watch me— cuz a Black Knight wouldn't be as lenient with me as a palace guard.”

He smiled and uncrossed his arms. "You're catching on, Princess. Well done."

“Should I read them...? I feel like it maybe too much information, especially in one night.”

“I could give you a summary of what might be in those books.”

“What, then tell me!”

"Do you really want to hear my thoughts, Princess?”

“Yes, all of them, everything.” 

“You aren't going to like it.”

“That’s probably why it was hidden from me, isn’t it?”

The Princess carefully jumps back over the desk and adjusts her nightgown before walking over to the lounging area of the library, causing a sly smirk to slowly form on his lips somewhat amused by her eagerness. She sat on the couch closest to the fireplace while Ghost stood in front of the couch opposite of her, silently gathering his thoughts before walking closer to (Y/n)’s sitting form.

"Your people are not kind." His boots thumped as he walked closer, “You're smart to sneak out at night because not only will the guards bring you back, but your townspeople are some of the most aggressive, opportunistic people I've ever encountered."

(Y/n)’s smile fades, eyes widening as they search his eyes for any sign of a joke.

"Maybe it was the King before your father or the one before that, but your father has yet to try to do anything about it.”

“Well, he—” 

“And he won't." He knelt before the couch and looked her straight in the eyes, "And you know how I know?"

She swallows thickly, shaking her head. Ghost leans closer, his hands gripping the arm of the couch as he leans forward.

"Because in the time he became king to right this second, he had a goddamn daughter that's now 20 years old.”

Her jaw dropped with a sharp inhale. Her eyes slowly drifted to the floor where he was crouching, heart panging as a sick feeling of guilt bubbled in the pit of her stomach.

“He had over 2 decades to do something about the people in this town— but didn't. And now here you are, sitting in this palace not knowing a goddamn thing about the place you're meant to rule.”

“He wouldn’t, he’s just... He....”

“Now, I don't blame you, how could I? You're the only one who's in the dark about all this because he doesn't want his ‘precious daughter’ hurt.”

“See? He cares... about me at least...” 

“And I don’t doubt he was going to keep this from you until you became Queen to make it your burden."

“What, no... My father—”

“Planned on teaching you nothing before shoving you into your new position? That's why I hate him-- that's why I could give a damn about consequences, ‘cuz there are none. Not even for touching his daughter in her bathtub."

(Y/n) gasps, looking back up with wide eyes and a burning face, the sight forcing an amused smirk to appear under the Black Knight’s mask.

"Oh don't look so horrified.” He rested his hand on her thigh, caressing the inside just like he did in the bath, “Remember, you tried to seduce me first."

Her thighs tremble, closing under the blue silk of the sleeping gown, “Then you already got your revenge; you don't have to taunt like this.”

"I'm not taunting you, Princess. Merely telling you all my thoughts, just like you asked. And I do so enjoy how easy it is to get a rise out of you.”

He continued to rub his hand along her inner thigh, a sly smile under that skull mask of his.

She scoffs, “But when I do so, it's wrong...”

"You need to be careful how you go about things, Princess.”

“Oh is that so?”

“Yes. For example, your method of 'accidentally' forgetting your towel is a very subtle tactic and if I was one of your stupid palace guards, I would've fallen for it. But mine...” He suddenly gripped her thigh firmly and separated it from the other, making her gasp, “Is much more direct.”

“Then.... You should teach me more...”

He chuckled softly and shook his head, his hand started to slowly slide further up her thigh, “And what makes you think I'd be willing to teach you a goddamn things like this?”

“Because you're the only one that's taught me anything.”

He paused for a second to think. 

"Put your legs on my shoulders and lean back."

“R-Right now?”

“No time like present. Especially, we’re less likely to get found.”

Looking down at him, the Princess slowly leans back on the couch and places the soles of her feet on him, the chill of his armored shoulders making her shiver. He smiled under his mask as his hand slipped under her gown to trace small circles on the inside of her thighs. He slowly lifted the silk over his head and pulled her hips closer to the edge of the couch cushions until he was sure she couldn't see his face before finally tugging his mask under his chin. She gasps when he tugs her underwear to the side before gripping the armrest of the couch at the feeling of his warm, plump lips wrapping around her tiny bud.

Ghost’s tongue gently caresses sensitive clit in circles in a way her fingers have never done. She looked down at her dress where his head was with a slack jaw in shock at his ability to make her feel this good already. His fingers were one thing but this was another. Every lick and swirl of his tongue was another whine or squirm from her, causing Ghost to grip her thighs even firmer.

“O-Oh my gods... How are you...?”

“Hush... Shh...” His voice was muffled, his mouth refusing to stop, “Just feel...”

“But it’s too good... I don’t know what to do...”

She could feel her smirk against her folds before sucking harder until her legs tremble as they try to close around his head. Try. He closes his eyes as he angles her hips upward to be able to push his tongue inside, slurping and flicking her insides with soft grunts from under her sleeping gown. (Y/n)’s hips buck and stutter until she finally cums with a yelp of his name.

He retracts his tongue from her and watches her cunt pulse while listening to her pants and gasps from inside the silk. He then drags his tongue across her folds one last time, cleaning off her excess slick before pulling his mask back up and standing up to nonchalantly sit next to her quivering body. She pants, turning her head to aim her glassy eyes at him. 

“Wh-what now?”

“Now...” He slowly undoes his belt, “You’re gonna sit on my lap and give yourself some pleasure.”

“But I thought the man was supposed to be on top of the woman.”

Ghost chuckles, “That’s one way of doing it. But I don’t wanna be too rough on you for your first time so I’ll let you take over. So c’mon, you’re wet enough.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widen as his hand reaches into his pants and pulls out his hard cock, letting it stand erect from his pants. She takes a deep breath.

“So that’s why you...”

“Ate you out? Part of the reason; it’s also just a way to get you even more turned on.”

The Princess slowly climbs onto Ghost’s lap and straddles him while holding his shoulders to keep her soaking wet cunt hovered above his tip. His chin was angled up, observing how her nervous gaze looked all around, seemingly worried about his size so the knight softly grabbed her hips to get her attention.

“Oi.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Relax... Remember, you’re in control and I’m right here.”

With that notion, she slowly lowered herself onto him, biting her lip to keep her discomforting groans from echoing in the library. Her fingers dug into the metal of his shoulder armor as her body adjusted to him—  the slick from her earlier orgasm helping like he said it would and more than she thought. Her face contorted in displeasure, her eyes shut tight from every inch but suddenly fly open when his cockhead hits something inside her— something his fingers and tongue hit, but somehow even better. The Black Knight stifles his laugh with a groan.

“You felt that huh?” His voice drops to a whisper, “Hit it again.”

With the guidance of his hands, the Princess lifts and drops herself on his cock, hitting her spot over and over again and understanding what he meant by giving herself some pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut again as she creates her own slow, steady rhythm up and down on his lap, her ass lightly slapping against his thighs with each drop. Ghost groans, making her open her eyes in time to see his head tilt back on the couch with his own eyes shut.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better....” He pants, “Never fucking better, just keep going.”

“Can I go faster?”

“Fuck, please yes.”

Her hands grip his shoulders harder and she bounces faster, whimpering at the way his thick, veiny shaft drags against her walls. His pants come through his mask, making his hands tighten on her hips. The Princess leans forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder to which he pulls her closer, pressing their chests together. His arms wrap around her and his hands hold her ass cheeks to help her bounce faster, their grunts and moans softly echoing off the walls along with the slapping crackling of the fireplace. It wasn’t long before her hips started to grind back and forth on his lap to fight off the growing pressure in her body.

“No, keep going. That’s a good thing.” He murmurs, loving the fluttering clenches around his cock, “A great fuckin’ thing, keep doing that ‘til you’re done.”

“What about—”

“I’m the teacher, all you gotta worry about is keeping that pretty voice down.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(a/n): sorry its so late loves, I got a cold and then a job lmao🤣😂

[waywardstation]

The other day my thoughts went back to the "Train of Thoughts" AU we created here and how incredibly community driven everything was...

...and it got me thinking how this AU also could be something to be explored in the way your new reblog-story-game-thingy (do these have names btw?) go.

Like which memory-train to tackle next, banter and chatting with MG!Emmet along the way and intermissions with Ingo on the outside reacting when certain memories are unlocked. Also in General interactions with MG!Emmet and the Mind Station. There should be something of a disclaimer at first but I'd love to see a return of this AU as it is still a big favorite for me.

of course no rush on that. I just wanted to share this idea since it could be a fun thing to make at a later point and also would be on brand here since it is your (and our) potluck AU!

(I apologize that this took so long to respond to, I’ve tried to post it three times now but my internet is terrible right now and I’ve had to rewrite this every time!!)

OH I STILL LOVE TRAIN OF THOUGHT AU SO MUCH!! It was so fun getting to build that together with everyone else who brought so many cool ideas and expansions to it!!

SO THAT IS SUCH A COOL IDEA TO MAKE IT AN INTERACTIVE COMIC!!! I would have so much fun doing that and I think others would too! And it keeps the community-driven aspect of it too with letting people pick from options!

I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! It’s such a good idea just like everything else you always come up with, thank you for the suggestion friend!!! ^^

————

I understand that I have not talked about the Train of Thought AU in such a long time. I am sure there are a lot of people here now who don’t know what this AU is. So you are free to check out the respective tag for it, or read the summary below!

So, Train of Thought AU is basically an AU that takes Ingo’s amnesia and turns it into a purposely-caused safeguard to protect his mind from a mind parasite that could permanently destroy it.

So in this AU, Ingo fell to Hisui through one of Giratina’s wormholes. It was not smooth and things definitely clashed together. While going through, a part of Giratina’s essence meshed with him, becoming trapped in Ingo’s mindscape when he exited the other side of the wormhole and into Hisui.

This part of Giratina quickly developed into an entity. This part is not Giratina itself, but rather something that grew from Giratina’s characteristics. Named Remnant, this entity was mindless, did not act on a conscience, and much like a virus, has a one-track mind, one direction — to get out of this mindscape and into the real world, destroying everything on the way out if it has to.

And that is exactly what is began to do.

For reference, Ingo’s mindscape resembles Gear Station. There are many traincars inside that hold different memories, and many lines for these cars to operate on that are meant for different trains of thought. (There is a line for memories to influence dreams while he’s sleeping, there is a line for things that get stuck in his head and play over and over, like songs, there is a train yard where embarrassing memories are banished to, etc.)

Once Remnant had realized what was going on, it began destroying memory traincars in a fury to get out, damaging important memories.

In doing this, a system that was implemented realized something was inside the mindscape that was damaging it, and it made a heavy decision in the moment to protect it.

This system is referred to as a Mind Guardian. Mind Guardians are the mind’s security system basically, dedicated to protecting the mind. They manifest in the mindscape as the person the mind trusts the most — in Ingo’s case, it was Emmet.

MG Emmet made the decision to lock all the train cars (trapping Remnant inside one of them in the process) and send them all into a train yard meant for memories that should be forgotten. Emmet built a barricade by cramming so many cars together, keeping Remnant securely in a prison.

But by doing this, MG Emmet left Ingo with so little to remember, he fell into an amnesia. MG Emmet knew this would happen, and it would leave him with a severely disfunctional mindscape to oversee, but intact memories that were locked away were better than memories that were irreparably damaged.

But that meant that all of Ingo’s memories of Emmet were locked away as well. With Ingo’s consciousness unable to recall Emmet, MG Emmet lost practically everything that made him “Emmet.” Most of his appearance and speech patterns were lost to darkness, blurs, and static, and without a name to remember, he simply became the Conductor.

While Remnant was locked away, unable to escape the memory it was trapped in, there was one loophole where it could still roam the station. Whenever Ingo would fall asleep, many of the mindscape’s functions would pause or stop. Remnant could use its tendrils to wander the dark station, in search of anything it could get ahold of or take advantage of — one of those things being MG Emmet specifically.

Remnant knew MG was the one who trapped it, and all it sees MG Emmet as is an obstacle, an adversary keeping it stuck in this mindscape. It wants to hunt down and eliminate MG Emmet.

MG Emmet knows this, so whenever Ingo goes to sleep and the station goes dark, he knows he has to hide. Usually, he takes shelter in the memory car that contains Ingo’s recollection of Emmet’s joltik hoard. He finds comfort in it and it’s easy to hide under layers of joltiks.

And so, for Ingo’s entirety in Hisui, he was entirely unaware of all of this, assuming the amnesia was from a head injury or a rough trip through a rift (which, technically yes it is haha) and thought nothing of it.

However one day when Akari brings the Lake Guardians to Professor Laventon for help with further studies (and for him to get to admire them), Uxie senses Ingo, and that something is very wrong with his mind. It’s not empty, no. Rather, everything is still in there, it’s just inaccessible. Very strange!

Uxie decides, with everyone’s agreement and Ingo’s consent, to try entering his mindscape and trying to figure out what’s wrong. They attach themselves to Ingo to make a mental link, but within moments, the link is broken. Uxie tries again, only to be ejected again. Another try, another forceful rejection.

MG Emmet is the one kicking Uxie out of Ingo’s mind. He already had enough of a mess with Remnant, he is not going to let a second pokemon into the mindscape again.

So a solution comes down to Uxie connecting Akari and Irida’s minds to Ingo’s, and putting their consciousnesses into his mindscape — Ingo is most comfortable with both of them going in, as they’re the two people in Hisui who he knows and trusts best — Uxie sends them in, but has to stay connected to Ingo’s head the entire time so as not to break that connection.

(The sketches below were done before we got Ingo’s hairline reveal lol. I didn’t know what to work with so I just made something up. Also why Ingo looks so different here; I was still figuring out how I wanted to draw him.)

Akari and Irida are sent into the mindscape, and immediately begin running. MG Emmet reflexively goes to kick them out, but he has to catch them first to do so before they split up.

Initially, Akari and Irida have to be careful and keep avoiding MG Emmet, who is hunting them down every free moment he has. They almost get caught several times (See the memes below lol).

This goes on for quite a bit, until Ingo falls asleep and the station shuts down again (he still has no idea that sleeping will make things dangerous for everyone in there — all he knows is Uxie will keep them connected as long as it needs). The three of them run into Remnant as it’s now scouring the station, and MG Emmet gets hurt.

They all manage to escape, but Irida and Akari come across MG Emmet recovering in his joltik car while looking for a place to hide. They join him and do their best to help him, and this is when they finally have a chance to show him that genuinely, they’re here to help, and want to restore Ingo’s mind and get rid of Remnant, just like he does.

From this point on, MG Emmet begins to trust them and joins them, making sure they stay safe navigating the mind station. He will explain the situation in more detail, show them all of the traincars and what the different lines are meant for, show them the manifestations of people and pokemon that Ingo has come to know in Hisui (like Lady Sneasler!) as well as Ingo’s manifestation of his own damaged self-image, and help them unlock more of Ingo’s memories, slowly but surely making their way to the memory traincar that Remnant is trapped in.

MG Emmet also cannot help but torment Ingo like the brother he is — he will go out of his way to show Akari and Irida embarrassing memories of things that Ingo has said and done throughout his whole life. MG Emmet laughs at them, Akari laughs even louder. Irida is just mortified. And Ingo, to his horror, can tell they’re going through these memories when he finds he’s suddenly remembering all these embarrassing things at once.

There is so much more to this AU, this summary, as long as it is, has barely scratched the surface! There is so much more with many ideas, scenarios, and expansions that people have graciously shared, and they’re all so cool! If you find yourself interested in this AU and would like to see more where people have presented really cool ideas and expanded upon them, I highly suggest browsing through this AU’s tag -> #Train of Thought AU !

[innerfare]

Blue Balls - Eustass Kid: Part 1

Summary: Captain Kid ends up with a case of blue balls; text below the cut

Pairing: Eustass Kid x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: teasing, dirty talk

Word Count: 1,427

All night, you’d been teasing him. 

It started with that mini skirt, the black one with the sheer panels and garter strings to clip your stockings to. You knew he would grab you as soon as he saw you wearing it, he always did, but he didn’t have a problem with that until you refused to bail on your plans to hit the town with the crew. You claimed Killer had heard about some great tavern that you didn’t want to miss out on, especially after being out at sea for so long. 

So there he sat in that stupid tavern, watching you lean over the bar with a drink in your pretty little hands, laughing hysterically at something Bubblegum said. He ground his teeth at the sight of your round ass in the air. He knew he wasn’t the only man who saw it. He wanted to slap a metal blindfold on every motherfucker in the joint, but he knew that would just make you mad, and not in the way that ended in you hate fucking him. 

“You look like you’re about to do a murder,” said Killer, approaching him from the side. 

“That’s because I am.” He slammed his drink down and stood up as a man reached for you, his eyes on your ass. He was stopped in his tracks by Bubblegum, who intercepted the man with a fist to the face. 

Cutting your conversation with the bartender short, you whipped around, unsure what had happened but certain the commotion had something to do with Bubblegum. You looked between your crew mate and the man he had punched, and then you looked at the man’s friends. Finally, your eyes fell to the corner of the bar where your boyfriend and his first mate had taken up residence. One look at Kid’s face, and you knew things were about to get ugly. 

“Come on,” you told Bubblegum, grabbing him by the arm. You called out for the others. 

“I think it’s time to find a new place,” Killer told Kid, taking him by the metal arm and dragging him away from the table. 

Kid dug his heels in, waiting until you were about even with him before he let himself be pulled out of the establishment. 

The crew howled as they stepped into the chilly night air, bouncing up and down, all of them energized by what had almost been a magnificent brawl. A few of them grumbled at you for cutting it short, but you brushed them off. 

You were more focused on Kid. You had noticed how annoyed he was when you didn’t let him jump your bones back on the Victoria Punk, had seen him scowling in the corner, had felt his eyes following you wherever you went. And you could sense him brooding still as the crew staggered down the street in search of a new watering hole. 

Just when Killer called out that he saw one and the crew took off, Kid grabbed you by the arm and yanked you into the nearest alleyway. 

“Kid!” 

He clamped his hand over your mouth and shoved you into the wall. 

“You think this is funny?” He seethed, his chest heaving. “You know I hate it when you tease me, you brat. It’s fucking childish, and I’ve told you a thousand times, you’re not allowed-” 

“Not allowed to do it,” you mocked. You giggled when he growled. 

“Do you hear me laughing?” 

“Calm down,” you told him, reaching up to cup his cheek in your hand. 

He swatted your hand away like a fly. “I don’t need to calm down, I need to fuck you.” He used his metal hand to lift you off the ground, the hard edges digging into your soft skin, and pressed his hulking body into yours, leaving you with nowhere to go. 

You grabbed hold of his broad shoulders. To keep your feet from dangling pathetically, you wrapped your legs around his waist, only to feel his massive erection press into your core. “For fuck’s sake, Kid.” You wiggled in his grip, though only half-heartedly. If you showed any genuine signs of distress, you knew he would stop in a moment, but the way you bucked your hips as you faked an escape attempt told him all he needed to know. 

“You’re an obnoxious little brat,” he told you, grabbing your hair with his real hand and giving it a good, hard yank. “Did it turn you on, shaking your ass in my face like that? Making me sit there while those other guys slobbered all over you? Did you want me to bash that guy’s skull in? Is that it?” 

“Of course not,” you huffed. “You know I hate it when you get in bar fights.” 

“Well, you certainly don’t help matters.” 

“It’s not my fault drunk men can’t behave themselves.” 

Kid grunted and reached beneath your skirt to pull your panties down, only to find you weren’t wearing any. 

“Fuck,” he barked. “Fuck.” A menacing grin stretched across his face. 

“Wait,” you said, just as he went to slide his finger across your entrance. 

He almost didn’t listen, desperate to know if you were as wet as he imagined, but he managed to stop himself. “What is it, rice ball?” 

You grimaced at the stupid nickname and wiggled in his grip. “Put me down.” 

He opened his mouth to argue. 

“Please, Captain. I wanna get you off.” You pouted. 

Unable to argue with that, he put you down. He leaned harder into you, blocking out all light with his domineering frame. It wasn’t just about leering over you, it was about shielding you from any onlookers. More importantly, though, it was about keeping you from escaping. Now that he knew you really had been teasing him and it wasn’t just his imagination, he wasn’t about to let you get away with it. 

“That’s it,” he muttered. “Put your money where your mouth is.” 

His heart pounded in his chest as your hands fiddled with his belt, not even bothering to feel up his arms and abs like you usually did, not wasting any time by placing sweet kisses on his chest, which he pretended to hate. He dragged in a ragged breath, thinking you must have been absolutely creaming for him if you skipped the foreplay. 

He licked his lips at the thought of your slick folds. 

Part of him wished you had worn panties so he could get them off of you and breathe in the scent while you sucked him off, stuffing them in his pocket for safekeeping when he was finished, but he was perfectly happy to know you were bare for him. It exhilarated him to know you had been so close to flashing your pussy to the entire tavern, to know that all of those men could only imagine what you looked like under that skirt, whereas he got to admire the real, pretty thing whenever he so pleased. 

“That’s a good girl,” he said when you pulled his throbbing cock out of his pants, a length so massive you went through lube like water and still struggled to take him. “That’s it, just like I taught you.” 

You smirked to yourself, satisfied with just how easily the menacing Captain Kid came undone. All you had to do was wrap your pretty fingers around him, and all that mean swagger evaporated. He went from a hunk of metal to putty in your hands, bucking his hips like a horny mess getting felt up for the first time. 

“Easy, Captain. Don’t want to cum too quickly.” 

“Shut up.” The words got lost in his throat as you gave him a hard yank. 

The tip was oozing precut already, and you spread it around his cock. Though it was hardly enough to lubricate his entire length, you were still able to slid your hands up and down, stopping at the base because you knew touching his balls would make him cum too quickly. 

He melted into you. With each stroke, he let his guard down a little more, until finally, you had an opening. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, face buried in the arm he had braced against the wall behind you. “I’m already gonna cum.” 

“Not yet, you aren’t.” You let go of his cock. “You’ll have to catch me first.” 

He was still processing your words when you ducked under his arm and took off out of the alleyway, laughing as you ran all the way back to the Victoria Punk.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[mustainegf]

making a baby with ‘04 james 🤤🤤

BABY MAKING WITH ANY JAMES ERA IS UDGDGDHDSGSGG

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ²⁰⁰⁴

James warm lips sucked and worshipped my skin, trailing dark hickies over my throat and breasts, each mark infused with love.

"Ah. mm.. Fuck, James," I whined, hands combing through his long hair.

We were sprawled out in bed, the curtains drawn.

The room wasn't very bright, but I could see every detail of James' naked body. He was so handsome.

"We'll get you pregnant, honey... don't you worry..." he rasped, kissing and sucking up my neck, his hands kneading my breasts.

"P-please... please, James.."

"I know." he whispered over my skin. I shivered as his hand sunk lower, reaching to you with my sensitive nub.

His thick fingers worked me, dipping inside until I moaned softly and pressed myself against him. He slipped a second finger into me, curling them just right before drawing them back. "Doin' so good... don't you worry, baby. Were gonna have a beautiful, baby..."

I was going to be ovulating in a few days, so this was James and I's window to conceive. We'd been trying for months now. But James had been very sweet and attentive.

We made sure that our sex life didn't suffer due to the stress of not being able to conceive yet. And we'd definitely been having plenty of sex... James' passion for me turned me on so much.

It would make me wet just hearing him talk about me finally getting pregnant, feeling him caress my belly, or kiss my shoulders. There was something intensely erotic about it all... "Mhmm, yesss..."

I moaned when James drove two more fingers deep inside me. My head fell back as his thumb rolled across my clit. His breath teased my ear.

"Mm, fuck!"

he growled in a soft voice. " Yes, baby?" He asked.

That simple word from him, it did such wonders for me. Just hearing him call me 'baby,' brought me pleasure like nothing else. "Fuck me, James," I begged.

"Oh yeah?" James chuckled lightly, pulling his fingers out and laying down next to me. "Yes!" I panted, looking at him. He reached down between us and took himself in his hand.

Ileaned forward, pressing myself against him. I looked down at where his cock lay heavy on his stomach. "James.." I breathed. I bit my lip, waiting.

Finally, he started stroking himself. Slowly at first, then picking up speed as he held my gaze. "Look at me, baby," he murmured. "Look at me... look how hard you're making me."

I looked at him, watching his cock slide in and out of his fist, feeling my pussy clenching around empty air. "You like seeing me do this for you?" "Y-yes," I whimpered.

"'ll get you pregnant, sweetheart. Don't worry..." he whispered, helping me on top of him to straddle his legs.

I sat up, leaning towards him, laying on his chest.

"Ahh.." he groaned, eyes fluttering closed as I rubbed my soaked mound against his length. "Do you want me to put it in?" he asked huskily, wrapping an arm around me.

His other hand trailed up my side. "Please," I whispered, and his thick cock immediately found its way to my entrance. A muffled sound escaped his mouth as he slid into me, filling me completely.

"Breathe, honey.." he whispered, wrapping his arms right around my waist.

He squeezed and pulled me down onto him, trapping me close to his body. I gasped as he moved inside me, thrusting up into me in slow, deliberate movements. His hot breath hit the shell of my ear.

"I love you..." James hummed, holding me too good chest as he thrusted up.

My thighs clenched tighter around his hips as I lowered myself down harder onto him. "James..." I moaned, biting my lip. His grip tightened as he buried himself deeper inside me.

His low moan echoed in my ear, sending shivers up and down my spine. "Just relax, honey... take your time..." he cooed gently, letting go of one of his holds on my waist to run his fingertips along my cheek.

His touch sent sparks of heat racing straight to my core. My muscles clenched, trapping him even closer. "Ahhh..." I let out a helpless moan, burying my face into his shoulder.

"Gonna get you nice and pregnant..." he groaned, his neck reddened and straining.

His entire body tensed up beneath mine. His nails dug into my hips, keeping me pinned against him.

He was ready to fill me up with his cum.

Our breathing became ragged, his thrusts becoming faster. My pussy was gripping him tighter than ever. Soon enough, my walls convulsed as I came on his dick.

James released another guttural moan as he filled me. He kept thrusting up into me while I trembled through my orgasm. The weight of his body on mine was suffocating. "Breathe..." he whispered, still thrusting, making sure we had the best chance at pregnancy.

Afterward, we both caught our breath and laid there together, recovering from the intense lovemaking. Eventually, he rolled me off and cuddled me, kissing my forehead, still buried deep in me. "Love you," I said softly.

"Always," he replied, running his fingertips along my cheek. "Don't worry sweetie we'll be parents..."

[helinshi]

LOVESICK!satoru x LOVESICKANDSWEET!reader

‍

๛ ๋ ׅ ˖ ꕮ 𝅄 ׂ⭒fluff: ୨୧ + non!sorcerer au ⋆˚｡⋆

a/n: first time posting and English is not my first language:) forgive me if i did any mistake!

   ˚ㅤ𝅄 𝅄 𐚁̸ ࣪ㅤ𓈒 headcanons!?

˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤ ꕮ ㅤ۫ㅤ 🪜 ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤᘞ ˚ ۪

ଳ LOVESICK!satoru who met you when he was only in middle school.

౨ৎ LOVESICKANDSWEET!reader who was trying to be friends with everyone on her first day in school but people were getting scared by her thinking why does she stares at them with a creepy smile.

౨ৎ LOVESICKANDSWEEY!reader whos actually too shy and nervous to act like others in school because she had mostly spended her childhood alone and isn't used to being friends with everyone.

ଳ LOVESICK!satoru who notices you staring at him during class since your desk was beside his and you quickly look away trying to focus on taking notes.

ଳ LOVESICK!satoru who approaches you after class bluntly asking you why you were staring at him during class with a teasing smile and this is where everything starts.

____________________________________________

ଳ౨ৎ LOVESICK!satoru and LOVESICKANDSWEET!reader are in 2nd year of highschool now.

౨ৎ LOVESICKANDSWEET!reader whos now friends with gojos best friends shoko and geto.

ଳ౨ৎ LOVESICKANDSWEET!reader and LOVESICK!satoru both are really close, They're both always sticking to eachother wherever they go. Satoru being the joker he is always making you laugh like no one does as always.

ଳ LOVESICK!satoru who gets jealous whenever sukuna approaches you for taking notes when he can always take notes from uraume or yorozu(she likes sukuna).

ଳ LOVESICK!satoru who comforts you after getting bullied by yorozu because she thought you had a thing for sukuna and blamed you for hurting her feelings when you always tried to not harm peoples feelings because of your dumb brain.

౨ৎ LOVESICKANDSWEET!reader whos crying quietly in satorus arms after getting mistaken that she had a thing for sukuna when the actual person she has a thing for is satoru:(

౨ৎ LOVESICKANDSWEET!reader who bakes satoru sweet cookies for comforting her.

౨ৎ LOVESICKANDSWEET!reader who always blushes and smiles whenever satoru smirks at her

ଳ LOVESICK!satoru who was lost deep in thoughts at 3am thinking about how he feels about you.

ଳ LOVESICK!satoru who lets out a long sigh, resting his head in his hands covering his burning red face realising his completely down bad for you.

Pt.2 when I'll come back finishing my exams :)

‍

[ripdragonbeans]

Bonded To Dragons

Chapter 1: Meeting Your Bonded

Warnings: None

Finally, after years of wondering, at the age of twenty-two, you were going to meet your Bonded. Finding out you were a Central was a surprise to you and your family. Finding out who you were Bonded to was even moreso. You shook out your hands, trying to keep them dry from the clamminess that now coated them. It was nerve wracking, meeting your Bonded. Their lives were tied to yours. It’s instinct for them to do anything to protect you. You could only hope that they felt the same way and it wasn’t only just instinct fueling them. Sometimes, finding a genuine connection within a Bonded Circle could be hard. You refused for yours to be a forced one. You wanted yours to be genuine, full of trust and respect for each other.

As you approached the door that led to your Bonded, you took one last deep breath before opening it.

You entered a cold room to find your three Bonded waiting for you. Aemond, Aegon, and Jace. All three of them were slouched in a chair doing one thing or another to pass the time. One of them was tall and lanky with long silver blond hair and an eye patch. His eye snapped to yours the moment you walked in. His stare was so intimidating that you had to look away. You focused on one of the other guys. There was another with shoulder length silver blind hair. One leg was crossed over the other and he lounged on his phone scrolling through what looked like a dating app. The thought of one of you Bonded on a date with someone irked you but you let it slide for now. The only one without silver blind hair sat a little straighter. When his eyes locked onto yours, you felt yourself relax. You could do this.

“Hi, I'm -”

“We know who you are, Byka Zaldrīzes,” said the long haired one. He didn't look up from his phone or even get up from his chair.

“Why did you call me little dragon?” You asked him.

“I'm impressed you know High Valyrian. And to answer your question,” he hummed. ���Because you're ours.”

You crossed your arms and lifted your chin up high. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

“And that's where you're wrong, Byka Zaldrīzes. You're our Central. It's our job to take care of you.” His violet eye bore into yours.

So this is what it would be like to be a Central with these three. Constantly coddled by one man while the other two just do their own thing. Of course this is how the Targaryen Bond Circle would be. Hoping things would get better, you muttered words of annoyance under your breath as you walked to the other side of the room.

The one with curly dark brown hair got up and brushed his hands on his jeans before walking up to you. His eyes were a beautiful brown and had small flecks of gold in them. He flashed you a smile as he approached you.

“My name’s Jacaerys but you can call me Jace.” He put a fist over his heart and bowed slightly. “I promise to protect you with my life. I am honored to be your Bonded.” He took your hand in his and brushed his lips against your knuckles.

Your breath caught in your throat at the vow. No one has ever been this loyal to you yet here someone was, pledging their life to yours.

“Th- Thank you, Jace. That is very sweet of you. And I promise to protect your life with my own as well,” you said quickly without thinking.

Someone growled behind you. “There will be no promise of the sort.”

Annoyance started to tickle your nose.

“And why is that?” You turned to face the voice. It was the long haired one again. The one with an eye patch.

“Once again, it is us, the Bonded, who protect the Central. It is not the other way around.” He stared at you fiercely as though he was asking you to challenge him.

“I'm going to assume you are Aemond,” you said. “The one who knows everything. I am sorry to say, however, you don't know me or what I'm capable of.”

“You'd be surprised to know what I know, Byka Zaldrīzes.” Aemond got up and circled you with his hands behind his back. He observed you as one would observe an insect or a science experiment.. “Do you know why I call you little dragon?”

“You said you call me that because, according to you, I’m yours.”

“You are. And you are just that, a dragon. Just like me and my brother here, the one who hasn't even looked up,” Aemond paused to smack the last one in the chair. “You're a dragon shifter.”

You scoffed. “How can you be so sure? We just met.”

“Every Targaryen bonded group has been a group of dragon shifters. We're revered throughout the community. We're wanted, desired. You are one of the lucky ones.” He cast a sideways glance at Jace. “And him, too.”

“Of course I'm a dragon shifter,” said Jace. He puffed up his chest. “My mother is a Targaryen. She's a dragon shifter so I am as well. I didn't need to be put into a Targaryen Bond Circle to know that.”

“Some of us aren't that fortunate to already have the knowledge,” you muttered.

Jace’s eyes went wide. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I'm sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I forget that your power isn't something you're automatically told once it's known sometimes. My family was always big on telling us so we could work on honing our skills.”

“I wish my parents were like that,” you said wistfully. “Up until Aemond said anything, I never even thought about possibly being a dragon shifter. But being your Central, it would make sense.”

You thought of your family, what your father might be thinking now, how proud he would be to learn his daughter is a dragon shifter. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes at the thought of him, the only one in your family still alive due to the war. For him you’d see this through.

“Are we done here?” complained the other silver headed one.

“You haven’t even introduced yourself and yet you want to leave?” Aemond asked his brother.

“Yeah, I got a hot date in a few hours!” he insisted.

Anger ran through your veins. “Hot date? You have a Central Bond. Me.”

None of your Bonded would touch another so intimately except for you. You didn’t want to act rash or stupid, but it was part of being a Bonded. It was part of that primal part of you. No one touched your Bonded. The mere thought of Aegon being with someone else made your blood boil.

“Ah, yes, how could I forget?” Aegon finally looked up at you. He gave you one glance over before turning back to his phone. “You’re cute but I’m not giving up my social life for you.”

Aemond smacked his brother on the side of his head. “You are one of her Bonded and you will respect her.”

“I’ll respect her but I’m not gonna lose out on any hotties because of our Bond.”

“So,” you piped up, “you wouldn’t mind if I slept with any other guy?”

Jace and Aemond immediately turned to you, eyes ablaze.

“You will do no such thing,” growled Aemond.

Aegon shrugged but you could see the uneasiness in his eyes.

You took a step towards him. “Don’t lie to me, Aegon. You know the thought of me being with another guy drives you up a wall. If you’re gonna fuck with anyone, it’s gonna be me.”

Hot tension suddenly filled the room. Aemond gripped the chair closest to him as Jace took three long strides to get to you. He pulled you into his side and ran his nose up the length of your neck.

“I won’t push you,” Jace whispered in your ear, “but know that I am more than ready for us to complete our Bond.”

A shiver went up your spine at his words.

Jace backed away and Aemond was quick to take his place. He pulled you in tight with a hand around your waist. He cupped your face with his free hand and placed a whisper of a kiss over your lips. “I will always be yours. Now and forever. Say the word and we’ll complete our Bond.”

All you could do was nod at his words. You wanted to pull him closer, hell, you wanted to complete the bond right then and there. Instead, you brushed your lips against his, like he did to you, then took a step back.

“So it’s settled then. We’re the Targaryen Bond Circle.”

A few hours later, the four of you sat at a cafe. It was purely to get to know each other and to strengthen the Bonds between you all. No powers, no shifting, just four people out for the day together.

“I’d like to spend the next few days getting to know you guys better,” you told them. “Maybe I could spend one day with one of you over the next three days? Like tomorrow I’ll spend all day with Jace?”

“That works for me,” said Jace. He covered your hand with his and gave you a small smile.

Out of the three of your Bonded, Jace has been the sweetest. He was careful not to push any boundaries but you also assured him there were very few. The primal need of the Bond wanted you to be as physically close to all three of them as possible and Jace was more than happy to take that up. He always had a hand on or around you.

Being with your Bonded has brought a sense of calm to you that you’ve never felt before. You felt almost complete. You knew as soon as all three of the Bonds were completed, everything would fall into place and feel perfectly. But until then this was more than enough to make you happy.

[mywritersmind]

DRUNK THOUGHTS - LN4

summary : He’s drunk and on a dock, nothing can go wrong. Except maybe him confessing his love to his taken best friend.

listen up : drunk lando! reader has a bf but no cheating involved!! maybe a pt.2 but prob not? i’ve kinda been unmotivated but if u have ideas my requests are open!

word count : 653

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I find him on a dock, his arm touching the water and his body laying down to face the stars.

I wobble down the wooden path, taking my heels off and pulling my dress down a bit. I’ve been drinking and dancing all night, yet my experience doesn’t even come close to Lando’s night.

He turns his head when he hears my footsteps, “Wanted to make sure you were still alive.” I look at his body, he’s in baby blue pants and a half undone shirt.

I left my boyfriend who was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes to come check on him, feeling a bit tipsy and more than happy to be alone with him.

“Y/n!” He grins and points at me, yup he’s definitely drank more than me, “Hi!”

I laugh and squat next to him, “Hi Lan. Fun night?”

“Oh definitely!” he giggles, his hand patting the place next to him. I sigh and lay down, looking up at the night sky. “You?”

“Very fun.” He’s looking at me still, I glance to him, a curl fallen into his face and his eyes are all soft and shaded from the lack of light.

It’s almost unfair, how beautiful he is.

“I like your dress!” He smiles, his hand gently running against the hem of it. It’s small and black and his touch makes goosebumps run through me.

“I like your necklace.” I reach over and run my fingers over his logo, “Very nice.”

“Would be nicer on you.” Lando’s always like this. Drunk or not, he’s a flirt.

“Ya think?”

“I know.” He looks back up like it’s nothing, “Would be even nicer if it was the only thing you were wearing.” the words come out so quick and easy that I almost think I hallucinated them. Lando’s flirty, sure, but my boyfriend is almost always around so he doesn’t mess around too much.

Apparently drunk him does.

I practically choke, “Oh?”

His head turns to me again, his eyes roaming my features, “You're so pretty.” He says softly, “Like really reallyyyy gorgeously you.”

“I- thank you?”

“Everyone thinks it. All the guys who stare at you but they don’t get it. Not even your lover boy.” He shakes his head matter of factly, “No no no. I do. I hate those guys.”

“What guys?” I laugh.

“You do not have very good vision.” He smacks his lips together, “Everyone looks.”

I laugh, honestly thinking he’s joking, “They’re always looking at you- the famous one.”

He shakes his head again, adamant I'm wrong, “No no pretty. They don’t give a nothing about me.”

“I think you do pretty well.” I raise a brow, “You were basically followed by a group of girls down here.” I’m not sure where they went but they were fawning over Lando.

He shrugs, “Bachelorette party. It’s basically my job.” I laugh and he looks offended that I did, “I wish you followed me.”

Suddenly his words aren’t funny anymore.

“But your bloody boy…” He makes a disgusted face, I thought he didn’t mind him. “Bleh. You’re better.”

“I didn’t know you disliked him.”

“Why would I like the bloke who’s in love with the girl I'm in love with?” His casual tone strikes again, this time stabbing me through the heart. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. I thought my own feelings had gone long before this trip- before my boyfriend!

I can’t fancy Lando and he cannot be in love with me.

“You’re so drunk.” I laugh it off but he just stares at me. He doesn’t seem to know that he just said he loves me.

“Drunk words are-”

“Sober thoughts.” I finish for him, His body shifting to lay on his stomach, an arm across my waist. “Yeah I know.”

“You always understand me.” He whispers and it breaks me in two. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you back, Lan.”

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

hello :D i'm so in love with your writing i actually came up with a request for the first ever time *ever* since i joined like 5 years ago lmao

-reader gets into trouble with the chain for self endangering, reckless behavior, reprimanding/arguing ensues, maybe with reader not valuing themselves all that highly in comparison to the others? preferably with some rather rough lovin' as an escalation, just to get it through reader's thick skull that they're wanted and important

-i'd love to see Time, Warriors or Sky with this, but if you think someone else fits better that's perfectly reasonable too

-feel free to switch up any details you can't really work around (but no degradation please)

Absolutely!! I love this idea so much, so thank you for gracing me with it! I was also really inspired by this ask so it's going to be about 3-4 chapters long <3

The Bluest Eyes

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): A whole lot of smut and a few scenes of Reader suffering from PTSD. Reader is requested to be female.

Notes: Set in the same AU as Burning Love, where Reader is a retired war medic from Warriors' Hyrule. Also, a "night rail" is a type of nightgown :)

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

"Get down right now!" Hyrule's shout rang through the clearing, unusually annoyed for the typically patient traveler. Warriors lifted his head, blanching when he caught sight of you sitting atop the thick branches of one of the nearby trees, feet swinging down as you yelled back. 

"No! Go heal Wind!"

"Wind has a scrape on his arm," the traveler stressed, gesturing to the snoozing hero as the others began to gather under the tree, expressions ranging from concerned to downright shocked. "You've been stabbed, (Y/n)."

"I'm fucking fine," you hissed back as blood dripped onto the ground from the wound in your shoulder, and Warriors was caught between terror at your condition to complete bafflement at how you managed to climb the tree in such a state. "Leave me alone!"

"Not until you let me heal you," Hyrule ground out with a stormy expression, hands twitching as if he intended to make you come down with sheer force of will alone. 

"(Y/n)," Time tried in a soft tone, ever the voice of reason. "Denying yourself care will only hurt you further."

"Then I'll be hurting and Wind will be alive," you snarled, snapping your legs up when Wild took a running jump for them. More blood splattered from your shoulder, staining the sleeve of your tunic beyond repair, and Warriors finally noticed the unaltered fear in your expression. 

You were afraid, and he had an idea why. Being a medic during the War of Eras, there was no doubt in Warriors' mind that you had seen terrible things–death, disease, perhaps even betrayal--and the way your eyes nervously shifted to study each of them only confirmed his theory. You were trying to sacrifice yourself for them, though he couldn't fathom why; they had more than enough health potions to go around, and Hyrule had hardly even used his magic when tending to Wind. 

There was no reason for you to be acting this way, yet he knew exactly what you were. There was a faraway gleam in your eyes, like you were looking at something that didn't exist anymore. 

Warrior's stomach churned as he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since you felt truly safe. 

"(Y/n), please..." Legend's voice was uncharacteristically soft, eyes wide with worry, an expression they all shared. "It was only a lizalfos attack, no one else got hurt."

"He did," you spat, pointing to Wind, and Warriors couldn't take it anymore. 

"That's it, we're coming up."

You gasped as the captain took a running start, leaping up and just barely latching on to the branch below your feet. "Get down right now, you're going to hurt yourself!"

"We're just trying to help you," Sky took a less physical approach, moving to stand beneath the branch with a look of barely disguised regret. 

"I'm fine," you repeated in a weak voice, and Warriors knew he had to act fast. 

"You're bleeding out," he grunted as he heaved himself over the branch, ignoring the blood dripping down onto his scarf; it wasn't like he couldn't wash it later. 

"It's just blood," you said, and he could have laughed at how disappointed you looked in yourself when the words sunk in. 

"Just blood?" Warriors pulled himself onto the branch, settling next to you, hand reaching around your waist to stabilize your swaying form. Your hands valiantly tried to bat him away, but you were far too weak to do any real damage. 

"Please," his heart ached at the beginning of tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Get down."

"Not without you," he countered quietly. 

"You're hurt," you whimpered, and it was as if all the air had been sucked from the space. Your gaze was worryingly unfocused as you turned your head to look at him, and Warriors could only imagine what you were seeing. "I can't heal you."

"I'm not hurt," he replied gently, not wanting to scare you even more than you already were. "It's all yours."

"Oh," you blinked slowly, as if you were struggling to comprehend his very words. "I'm sorry."

There was a knot in Warriors' throat. He tried to gulp it down, but it bounced back with more force than he expected. "Don't be sorry, just let Hyrule heal you."

Your gaze flicked slowly to the heroes waiting below, a protective glint in your slowly-focusing eyes. "...What about them?"

"They'll be okay," Warriors promised, and you nodded weakly, head lolling to the right to rest against his shoulder, pressing your wound to his chest with nary a hiss. 

"Okay," you whispered in the most broken tone he had heard from you. 

Warriors was sure he hadn't moved quicker in his life, carefully gathering your limp form in his arms and dropping back to solid ground. He remained silent as Hyrule dashed over, hands already glowing with green magic. 

"Lay her down," the traveler said in a wavering voice, and Warriors did as instructed, placing you on the ground as if one wrong move would shatter you, and it was then that he truly noticed the ashy pallor your face had taken on, eyes squeezed shut as Hyrule worked his magic above you. 

Slowly but surely, the exposed wound on your shoulder closed, your skin knitting together under the traveler's hands, leaving behind a wide rip in the blood-soaked sleeve of your tunic. The fitful expression on your face softened some, but he could still see the slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

Warriors' hand found your uninjured shoulder, shaking it softly as Wild plopped down beside you, face twisted with worry. "How are you feeling?"

There was no response, and his heart could have damn near stopped when he registered the tell-tale softness your breathing had taken on. Nearly shoving Hyrule aside, he pressed two fingers to the side of your neck, fearing the worst. 

"Is she dead?!" Four exclaimed in absolute, unadulterated horror, and the others began to murmur in fear. Warriors' pressed harder, motions unusually desperate as he fought to find a pulse. No, his mind whispered, a cacophony of dread as his fearful thoughts soared, cursing himself for not acting sooner. He shouldn't have waited, and now you were paying the price for his stupidity--

The very notion of time seemed to skid to a standstill when you wheezed suddenly, throat bobbing harshly against his prodding fingers. 

"She's alive!" Hyrule exclaimed in palpable relief, and the tension in the air began to dissipate. Warriors took several breaths to calm his racing heartbeat, removing his hand from your neck as you coughed, turning your head to the side, groaning softly. "Fuck," you said, and the captain was torn between crying and laughing. 

"Are you alright?" Sky was quick to help you into a sitting position. You winced, rubbing at your healed shoulder with your free hand. 

"Yeah," you mumbled, looking around with mounting apprehension. "...Where's Wind?"

"Here!" called the sailor, having just woken up from his nap, and you gave him an exhausted half-grin. 

"Good," you tried to stand, only to be pushed down by Hyrule. 

"Not a chance, (Y/n)," the traveler chided, obviously still shaken from your initial refusal of help. "You're staying right there."

"I'm okay--"

"No," Hyrule said in a tone that brokered no argument. "You are– you are going to sit there and get better, or Hylia help me I will tie you down until you do."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Warriors noted how quickly you reconsidered the idea when Hyrule fixed you with a dark glare, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that screamed 'try me and die'. 

"...Fine," you relented, slumping backward, and the captain had a distinct urge to ruffle your hair. Your cheeks pinked and you all but hissed: "Stop that."

"Nope," said Warriors, laughing softly when you fixed him with one of your practiced stares, though even a fool could see that there was no heat whatsoever in your gaze. He rose to his feet, deftly dusting the tops of his pants. "Time, do you–"

"Um, guys?" Wind's voice interrupted, filled with apprehension. Warriors turned to face the sailor... only to blanch. 

A portal had opened in the center of the clearing--pure white mixed with swirling hints of gold. The air around it crackled softly, charged with an explicably dangerous energy that had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

"Is that...?" You trailed off, letting the situation speak for itself. 

"Time," Warriors drew his sword, stalking over to put himself between you and the portal. "Do we have another–"

"No," the oldest hero cut him off, tone unusually icy. "This isn't anything I recognize."

"We'll have to go through it, then," said Wild, already advancing forward. Warriors gazed back at Twilight and Legend, who both nodded, unsheathing their swords while the captain re-sheathed his, bending over to gather you in his arms. 

"I can walk," you half snapped, though you made no real move to prove that point. 

"No, you can't," Warriors responded, turning to face the portal as Time and Twilight entered it, disappearing in a flash of light. The others followed swiftly, and he could only hope they'd be able to survive what awaited them on the other side.

You recognized the castle gates as soon as you saw them. 

You had long since wrapped your arms around Warriors' neck, holding on for dear life despite the fact that you knew he wouldn't drop you, deftly studying the bustling streets as the group stepped into Castle Town. 

It was undoubtedly your Hyrule, and there was a certain comfort in being home again. You remained silent as the others chatted, half because you were nearly asleep and half because you couldn't fathom what to say to any of them at this point. Embarrassment coursed through you as you recalled their terrified expressions when you scaled the tree, too lost in your thoughts to realize what was going on. 

You liked to think you kept decent control of your emotions, but now...

"Hey," you felt the words rumbling from Warriors' chest before you heard them. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," you said quickly. Perhaps too quickly, from the way he cocked an eyebrow down at you in response. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that," the hero paused, then continued in a far quieter tone. "But I don't think I believe you anymore."

"Maybe because it's none of your business," you hissed... and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry, I just–"

"I understand," said Warriors. The hand on your ribcage tightened as he hefted you tighter against him. "I really do."

You didn't doubt that, you really didn't, but a thick ball formed in your throat and you didn't trust yourself not to start bawling in the middle of the street. With a shaky huff, you tucked your head against the broad expanse of Warriors' chest, letting familiar darkness consume you. 

You couldn't sleep. 

The bedroom Queen Zelda had so graciously gifted you was too cold, yet your pillow felt hot enough to burn a hole through metal. You flipped onto your stomach, gripping the pillow as you buried your face into it. Every time you closed your eyes, memories of the War would pop into your mind's eye like flies, only dropping when you awoke, panting like you had run a lap around the castle itself. 

"Fuck..." you whispered to the empty room. Warriors had passed you off to Twilight and Hyrule as soon as his boots crossed the foyer, declaring that he had a meeting with Zelda, only returning with a grim expression and ten keys. The Queen had heard reports of a black lizalfos roaming the land, but they were largely unreliable, leaving everyone with no choice but to stay in the castle for the night. 

While you were grateful for the unexpected privacy, there was something to be said about sleeping in the open with what you now considered to be some of your closest friends. The room, decked out in purple tapestries, was terribly lonely, as four-poster beds typically weren't the chattiest of company. 

The bed creaked as you shifted onto your back, staring up at the stone ceiling, hands fisted in the soft fabric of the creme night rail you wore. You tried not to think of how Wind had almost been slashed, or how close Time had gotten to being bisected by a moblin, but they kept popping up the harder you willed them away. 

It was hopeless, you realized. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

You swung your legs off the side of the bed, kicking your slippers on and shuffling to the nightstand, where a lone candle sat. With trembling hands, you lit it. A fierce orange glow illuminated the room, and you used it to guide you to the door, peering outside at the empty hallway. 

You were no stranger to the castle, which is why you stepped out for a short walk, shoes scuffing gently on the polished floor. 

Aimlessly, you wandered, uncaring of where you ended up. Dark shadows stretched and spun before you, quickly vanquished by the light of the candle. You walked beneath one of the many arches, entering a hallway you didn't recognize. A large portrait hung on the very back wall, a stunning caricature of Queen Zelda and... Warriors. 

You approached the portrait, holding up your candle for a better view. Their faces were relaxed–not too relaxed, of course–and could be vaguely described as peaceful. Warriors himself looked younger, like the burden of being a hero had not yet hit, with a small grin that made the corners of your lips quirk up. 

"...(Y/n)?"

You nearly dropped the candle as you spun around, heart nearly leaping from your chest. 

"Wars?!"

And there he was, in all his blonde-haired, bleary-eyed glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of pants. You tried not to look at his chest, mostly because it was highly inappropriate and partially because you were supposed to be upset, and looking at that glorious abdomen made you feel anything but sad. 

"You're not asleep," he observed in a matter-of-fact tone. "Why was I expecting this?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I could say the same about you."

"I know," his gaze flicked to the portrait, then back to you. "Do you want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

You bristled. "Excuse me?"

"You're unexcused," Warriors shot back, and you became distinctly aware of just how close a two-foot distance was when you were alone. "Tell me the truth."

"And that is?"

The captain fixed you with a half-hearted, largely exhausted glare. "Gee, (Y/n), maybe when you climbed a tree to avoid medical attention?"

"That's diff–"

"Or perhaps when you refused to let Hyrule heal you until we climbed the tree?"

"That's not–"

"Or should I mention that time you attempted to give Wild a healing potion after he stubbed his toe?"

"You–"

"I'm not done," Warriors cut you off, running a hand down his face. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? How worried I was?"

There was silence, because you didn't trust yourself to speak without breaking down. 

"Well?" the captain prompted. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

You stared at him. This was pointless; you didn't want to talk, you wanted...

A knot formed in your stomach. What did you want? It had been so long since you considered something so... well, you felt it was rather mundane, but that didn't excuse that you had no idea what you wanted. 

You didn't realize you had begun to cry until Warriors' hand swiped gently at your face with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. For you, at least. 

"It's going to be alright," he said, and, before you knew it, you were bawling, thick sobs shaking your shoulders. Wars wordlessly pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your trembling form. 

"I can't do it," you whispered against his clavicle, arms encircling his bare back. "If I can't help him, how am I to help the rest of you?"

"You don't have to," the captain responded softly, hugging you a bit tighter. "You've helped enough-- no, more than enough."

"I know, b-but," you hated how your voice wavered noticeably when you spoke the last word. "I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"How can you promise that?" you hiccuped, pressing yourself closer, heavy tears blurring your vision. "Wars..."

"We're strong, (Y/n), we'll always be here," he responded slowly. Carefully. "Always."

“Promise me,” you whispered, unable to force any other words out. You needed to hear him say it, and the anticipation was tearing you from the inside out. 

“I promise,” said Warriors. He sounded genuine, but, then again, he always did. 

“Good,” you sniffed, feeling slightly sheepish for crying on him in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry, I just…”

You froze when Warriors put a finger over your lips, shushing you softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you like he would never let go. “Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault, okay?”

That… that was new. You had always liked Warriors; he was kind and reliable, not to mention an excellent strategist. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you willed them away, hoping the night was dark enough to conceal the burning flush on your cheeks. 

“...Okay,” you agreed, distinctly aware of the flexing muscles lying just beneath your fingertips. Warriors was strong–they all were–and you felt as much anxiety over it as you did comfort. “Why… Why were you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he responded quickly, and you couldn’t help but chuckle half-heartedly. “What is it?”

The words slipped from you like a knife through butter, like the softest silk and the quietest breeze. “We’re both hopeless.”

Warriors hummed and turned his sparkling cerulean gaze to you. “Maybe,” he whispered to the night. “Helplessness can be helped.”

“You think?” You were almost afraid to ask, but you could have done anything to hear his voice again. 

“I think it’s time for bed.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Warriors released you when you pushed lightly on his chest, arms hanging loosely by his bare sides. “Isn’t that Sky’s line?”

“...I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

With slightly-lifted spirits, you peered outside, studying the star-spangled sky with mild interest. The moon was bright, bathing the hallway in a milky sheen that made it all the more eternal, and you wondered why you hadn’t taken the time to study it before. “It’s so–… I never noticed…”

“Beauty comes in many forms,” Warriors intoned softly with a glance in your direction. “There are people who go their whole lives without appreciating the little things.”

“And you are?”

The captain hesitated, shoulders slumping slightly, making you wonder if he would appreciate a hug. “I’m still working on it,” he admitted softly, and made the executive decision not to pry.

“So am I,” you shot an exhausted grin his way. “...How mad do you think Hyrule will be if I don’t sleep?”

Warriors ran a hand down his face, and only a fool would miss the very obvious, very large smile he was attempting to conceal. Until it shifted to a grin, then a smirk. 

“If I have to sleep, you do too.”

“Actually–”

“Hush,” you blinked dumbly when his hand extended, palm up, toward you. A few seconds passed, and Warriors let out a small huff. “(Y/n)–”

“Present.”

“...Just take my hand.”

You did.

First chapter done! This is the second ask that has activated me like this, and I'm excitedly-terrified of the other wonderful ideas y'all might send me in the future!

[paladin--strait]

soulmates part 3

luke hughes x reader

part 1 here! part 2 here! series masterlist here!

tw!!: some language, use of y/n, reader can be depicted as any body shape/size. this story moves kinda fast, since I want it to only be a couple of parts long.

warning: this is a complete work of fiction. I am no way saying or implying that these people act the way they do in the story. I am open to any sort of constructive criticism! thank you!

-

oh shit. it's quinn. my eyes go wide and luke's head slowly turns around to see who it is. his head turns back me quickly, eyes wide and his throat moves with a nervous gulp. his eyes are looking around, almost like he's looking for an escape. i shake my head at him, silently telling him that we should accept our fate.

quinn walks up slowly, face red from anger and frustration. "well well well...what do we have here? two run aways, it looks like." he says, hands in his pockets.

"quinn listen-" luke says, hand on the table, but he looks like he's about to jump out of the booth.

"nope. i'm not listening to you." quinn say, hands now out of his pockets and now wrapped around his chest. "i hope you know that i'm on a goddamn life360 with her and i know where she is at all times."

"quinn, let luke talk before you go off on him." i say, hoping quinn will give luke some grace.

"fine. scoot." he says with a sigh, signaling for me to move further into the booth, which i do so he has room to sit beside me.

"listen quinn, we just wanted to get out of there and have some fun. as soon as we woke up, i rushed home so y/n wouldn't get in trouble with you." luke says, looking down at his hands. "i didn't want you guys to think that we did something that i'm not supposed to do with her. once we saw how you reacted, we just didn't want to be yelled at for an accident we made."

"okay." quinn says. his single word makes luke and i look at each other nervously.

"uhm...is that all? just okay?" luke says, looking at me before looking back at quinn in confusion.

"yeah." quinn shrugs, lip turning up on the side.

"quinn," my eyes flicker to luke, my hands shaking and clammy from nervousness. "you're kinda scaring me...?"

"well, maybe you shouldn't have scared me by running away like that." quinn states, words flat like they have no meaning but luke and i both know that they hold all quinn's feelings about the situation. quinn looks at luke before speaking, "i hope you know, i'm not mad. i'm just upset with the fact that you two are acting like some high school couple who's parents are preventing them from being together."

i look down at my fingers, picking at the skin that's around my nail beds. the silence is deafening, despite the sounds of the chefs behind the counter cooking and banging their utensils on the stove, and the sound of people carrying on conversation at the nearby tables.

we sit in silence for what feels like forever until luke speaks up. "quinn, listen." luke pauses, taking a sip of his drink. "we fell asleep on the boat on accident. i already told you why we ran, but i thought you should know that-"

luke's rant is cut off my the ringing on my phone. i apologize and pick the phone up to see who's calling. it's the social media manager, kelly. "shit...i'm sorry guys, i have to take this. it's my boss..." i click the green button to answer and the two boys look at me and sit in silence while i talk to her.

our conversation is short, but her words ring out in my head. once i hang up, i sit still in my seat. "uhm...they need me back in vancouver."

i see confusion contort onto both of their faces. i also take notice of the head tilt of confusion that luke gives me. it reminds me of quinn, every time he gets upset, confused, or is just plain out of his, his head lulls to the side.

"why?" quinn is quick to ask. "they said you could have the rest of the summer off. i'm not gonna let them steal that time from you. from us." i can sense the upset in his words and i immediately feel horrible.

"they need me to come back and train new recruits. apparently, some time after i left the other day, the longer working employees started some sort of riot and quit because they weren't happy with their pay." i explain, taking a sip of my drink and sighing. "they told me i would get a raise if i come in..."

quinn looks down, disappointment flooding his face. i reach over and grab his hand, holding it in mine. "quinn...i'm sorry."

"no, i understand..." he says, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb, something he always does when he notices i'm upset. "i can come with you, if you want."

"no quinn, stay here and enjoy your summer. i'm just glad i could spend some time with you and your friends." i say, smiling softly. i look over at luke who's lips are pursed, like he has something to say, but he won't say it.

the similarities between quinn and luke are insane. that empty look in their eyes, their smile, their actions, and they way that they can make you feel bad by just looking at you with those sad, puppy dog eyes.

i frown looking at luke, mouthing a quick i'm sorry. he shakes his head and mouths back, "its okay."

i feel bad to leave, even though it's only my third day off and my second day here, i've had fun. "uhm...kelly said my flight is at 8pm tonight. so, i better go home and pack so i can spend the rest of my time with you guys before i have to go."

"sounds good, i can drive you back to the lake house?" quinn says and i immediately take him up on his offer. drives with quinn are always fun. music, loud singing, and just plain stupidity. but, i have a feeling this ride won't be that way. with everything that happened with luke last night and today, plus with me having to leave, it's bound to be awkward.

we call over the waitress to pay for our food and luke hands her his debit card. she comes back a few minutes later to hand us our receipt and to thank us for coming. we pack up our things, and go outside. i thank luke for breakfast and get into the passenger seat of quinn's car after he opens the door for me.

i buckle my seatbelt while quinn shuts my door and i sigh. i hate to leave but i need the money and if they need help, then i should go. quinn would tell me the same thing if i told my boss no.

the car ride back is as i imagined, silent and awkward. luke follows us in his truck, pulling in the driveway right behind us. i see the door open and jack steps out with trevor and jamie behind him. jack has his arms crossed and he has this bossy look on his face.

luke opens my door for me and i get out of the car along with quinn. "well well well. look who decided to come home." jack yells out from the porch while we walk up. "the two runaways."

i roll my eyes at his words, looking over at quinn. "jack, that's enough. let us in, y/n has to pack for her trip back to vancouver."

"wait what? she's going back to vancouver?" jamie asks, confusion on his face as he peeks out of the doorway further.

"why?? she just got here!" trevor complains, looking at quinn with a look of surprise and disbelief.

"quinn, what did you say to her to make her want to go back?" jack asks, no emotion in his question, almost like he's mad at quinn.

"i didn't say anything. she got a call from her boss and they need her help at the arena. she has to train new employees and if she does it, she gets a raise. she needs to go." quinn explains, walking in the doorway with luke and i.

"aww...i wanted to hang out more!" trevor says, reaching his arms out to hug me. i hug back immediately, patting his back. "i miss you already."

i laugh, "trev, i'll miss you too. i don't even know you that well, but you seem like a genuinely nice guy that cares about his teammates and friends. i wish i could've hung out with you more this summer." he smiles at me and fixes his hair, it's getting too long for it to stay out of his eyes.

once we finish talking, i go up the steps and into my bedroom, grabbing my suitcase and beginning to pack. good thing i haven't unpacked very much of my stuff yet. i grab my toiletry bag and put all of my products in it, organizing it along the way. i found that if i don't organize things the way i have them when i originally pack it all, they don't fit. so i often take a picture to follow as guide almost.

i eventually finish packing and zip up my suitcase. i look at my bed that has luggage all over it. blankets and a pillow beside it. i grab my phone, checking all my messages before i go downstairs. when i make it to the living room, i find some of the guys on the couch.

john looks up from his phone and smiles at me. "hey, y/n. i heard you have to go back to vancouver later?" he says, suddenly frowning.

"yeah, my boss called, said that a whole bunch of people just quit and they need me to come and help train rookies. at least i'll get a raise." i respond, sitting down on the couch beside nico.

"oh, well a raise is good! sucks that you have to leave, though." nico says, looking over at me and smiling softly, almost as if he feels bad for me.

"yeah, i haven't even been able to get to know you yet! i've heard such good things about you from quinn and he was so excited when you showed up here. wouldn't shut up about you last night." curtis says, throwing his arms up in the air during his first sentence.

"really? he wouldn't shut up about me?" i ask, confused about what's he's been telling them about me.

"yeah. after dinner when we were all in the game room, he couldn't stop talking about you. he told us all about you twos pregame and postgame routines, how much y'all hang out, and whenever you're off work, you even show up to games wearing his jersey and stuff." nico responds, looking over at me, trying to recount his memory of what quinn told them.

"oh..." i say, looking down at my fingers, picking at the skin around my nails that i had previously picked at. "he really told you guys all that?"

"yeah. he's all the time talking about you." brock says, "trust me, i know this because i'm almost always with him. he talks about you on and off the ice, too." he nods at his own words.

my eyes widen, i never realized just how much time i spend with quinn. i stop to think. no matter the day, we always take time to hang out. i never realized he talked about me so much.

brock shortly continues his words, "i remember when some other player chirped you during a game one day," i snap my head to look at him, never having heard about this. "quinn went ballistic on the dude. i've never seen him so mad in my life."

"i remember that. i had to pull him off the guy." j.t. says, nodding his head at the memory. "i never realized how nasty of a mouth quinn has. he spouted out so much shit that night that i thought i was either dreaming, or had gone crazy." he states, laughing.

"hmm..." i look up at the ceiling, slightly remembering quinn getting ejected for fighting one game. "i think i remember that. is that really what happened? quinn wouldn't tell me why he fought the guy."

"yeah, that's what happened. quinn would protect you from anything. even if it costed him his job. or even his life." brock says, looking at me in the eyes before he checks his phone. "it's almost like he's in love with you or something."

i laugh almost too much at his words. "what? no! quinn is like a brother to me. he wouldn't think of me like that. right?" i ask, suddenly unsure of what quinn really thinks of me.

"well, from what i've seen of you two together, i'd say that quinn-" nico starts, sighing before he spoke.

"me what? what'd i do this time?" quinn walks in from the patio door, looking confused at the mention of his name. i make eye contact with nico, and he looks at me with a knowing look.

"uhm, we were just talking about how you might want to go back to vancouver with y/n." brock says, quickly saving our backs.

"yeah, i just wasn't sure if you were coming with me or staying here. you seemed like you wanted to come with me earlier so i was just asking them if you'd said anything to them about it." i say, looking over at quinn.

"oh. well, i thought about it. do you want me to come back with you?" quinn asks, luke, jack, and jamie walking in behind him. "i'll go if you want me to. you know i will." he says, smiling at me.

"it's up to you if you wanna come or not. but, i'd prefer you stay here and enjoy the rest of your summer. you never know, the training could be quick and i might come back before the summer ends if you guys are willing to have me." i say, looking at them nervously.

"of course you're welcome back here!" jack says, smiling wide. "you'll always be welcome here."

"thanks, jack." i smile back at him, thankful for his words. i look down at my phone, the time is 5:30. "well, i should get going. it's a 45 minute drive to the airport and i still have to call an uber. i wanna get there early." i say, standing up.

"don't call an uber." quinn says, walking over to me. "i'll take you. where's your luggage?"

"oh, it's upstairs in my room. i was about to go get it." i say, walking over to the base of the stairs. "do you think you can help me?" i ask, quinn obviously nods, walking up the stairs with me.

after we grab all my luggage, we head back down the stairs also i can say my goodbyes to the guys. trevor is the first to come over to me, "i miss you already, y/n. i wish you didn't have to leave."

"you'll see me again, don't worry. if i can't come back this summer, i'll see you at the games." i say, patting his back while we hug. i hear him whine slightly and when he pulls away, he's looking at me with a frown. "i miss you already, trev."

curtis is next, the nico, jack, jamie, then luke. i hug them all tightly, saying a quick goodbye to all of them. j.t. and brock give me a quick hug and a short kiss on the head.

"see you later, tiny." brock says, looking down at me. "take care of yourself."

"i will, love you, brockey." i say, pulling out the nickname i gave him that he hates so much. he laughs, shaking his head. he says a quick i love you back and takes his seat back on the couch.

i say my last goodbyes, and grab a couple of my bags, walking out the door to quinn's unlocked car. we set my bags in the back and quinn once again opens the car door for me. i get in, buckling up and getting comfortable. i can already feel myself getting tired.

"tired?" quinn says, pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. "you can sleep, i won't mind."

i nod, accepting his offer. i grab my pillow from the back and put it up against the window, setting my head against it and closing my eyes with a loud yawn. "thank you for driving me, quinner..."

he just smiles at me, looking back at the road and trying to find his next exit.

-

when i wake up, quinn is shaking my shoulder. "y/n, we're here. you don't wanna miss your flight." i groan, the sudden darkness confusing me.

"oh...okay." i say, sitting up and pulling the pillow away from the window. i yawn once again, stretching as much as i can in the truck.

i open my own door this time, getting out and grabbing my things from the back. i sling the backpack over my back and hand some bags to quinn. we walk into the airport, quinn saying a few hellos to some fans.

he helps me check my bags in and get my ticket. "well, this is it. have a safe flight, y/n." he says, looking at me with a frown.

"thank you, quinn. and i'm sorry about all that stuff with luke, i hate that it took up so much time of me being there with you guys..." i admit, looking down at my shoes.

"hey, it's okay. i understand. uhm, i'll miss you. please take care of yourself, i know how you forget to take your medicine and sometimes you get so wrapped up in work you forget to eat or hydrate. please don't forget."

"i won't quinn. and if you're so worried, text me to remind me and even if i just ate or drank, i'll do it again." i say, smiling.

"you know i will anyway." quinn laughs, pulling me in for a hug. "i love you."

his words linger in my head for a bit, leaving a pink hue on my cheeks. remembering that conversation earlier makes me rethink almost everything that he's saying to me. what does he mean by 'i love you'? does he really mean it? or is he just saying it in a friendly way?

i shake it off quickly, patting quinn on his back and telling him a quick i love you too before i have to walk off into the tunnel. i look back at him when i make it halfway into the long hallway, and he's staring at me with a sad look on his face. i wave sadly at him, before turning back around.

almost my whole flight i think of quinn. what was nico going to say that he couldn't finish? i should've gotten his number so i could ask later. i can just ask jack for his number when i land. i sigh, leaning back in my seat.

i soon find myself tired from all of my thoughts and i close my eyes, getting more comfortable in the hard and not cushiony at all airplane seats. i hope that when i wake, i'll finally be able to figure out what nico was going to say. but i guess i'll find out later.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: lee seokmin

first love

'when it comes to you, 'forever' sounds so sweet, so good'

there are some things that are just plain facts like earth being round, for example. there are some things that are not up for arguing like banana milk being the best milk. then there are some things that are true but it takes a while to learn them like how grass is not greener on the other side but where you water it. seokmin thought long and hard about it and in the end decided that his love for you is applicable to all three categories: it's both a fact, something that is not up for arguing and some thing that is true but took a while to learn.

and take a while it did. 'seokkie?' your head pops in, smile wide and eyes crinkled. 'sorry for bothering, just wanted to check in. is everything okay? you've been quiet whole dinner.'

seokmin blinks, focusing on you. he wasn't quiet whole dinner per say - he's been talking and engaging with everyone and to anyone who doesn't know him close he looked absolutely fine. but you are very close to him and of course you noticed slight tense posture, how smile didn't quite reach his eyes. seokmin's heartstrings tug at your attentiveness towards him; he smiles, telling you to come in. when you shuffle forward, he instantly envelops you in a big hug, moving you to lay side by side, finding this gesture oddly comforting. in fact, everything about you is oddly comforting - you remind seokmin of home, of that feeling when you're back in your own bed after being away for a long time. it's addictive and after so many years of knowing you and being your friend, he's sure that he doesn't have anyone closer to him than you.

'what is it, seokkie?' you ask in a whisper, turning your head to face him. your eyes are so expressive, seokmin never gets tired of just staring into them; right now they are filled with worry and gentleness that is so you, seokmin can't help but reach out and pinch your cheek cutely. 'hey! don't distract me mister, answer my question!'

'i don't really know,' seokmin answers truthfully. 'i guess i'm just scared of all these upcoming changes, you know? they feel so big, too big for all of us. i'm scared how they will change everything.'

i'm scared they will change you and me is on the tip of his tongue but he doesn't voice it out loud. he won't be able to let go, he knows it. if you go, this void in his chest won't be filled with anyone else, he knows it too. moving away is hard but it's even harder when he loves-

'whatever can happen will happen,' you say, staring at him seriously. 'but it will never change you and me.'

-you. he loves you. it's clear as a day to him when he now stares at you and this realization takes his breath away. and it's not like seokmin is dumb or oblivious - he definitely knew that his feelings for you bordered on something much, much bigger than simple 'like' or 'friendship'. it's more about how he never thought to give them a name and got so used to having them because they became a part of him, of who he is and whoa, isn't that a big and scary thought? that his feelings for you are literally part of his personality? it probably should be but it doesn't scare seokmin for a one bit. loving you, he realizes, is as easy as breathing.

'i don't want us to ever change,' he admits, trying not to choke on his feelings. 'i want it to always be you and me, together.'

he hopes you hear it. he hopes you understand what he's trying to say because he just learned that he loves you and it's a lot. your smile makes him smile back and when you nod, telling him that you two will always be together, he feels his heart beat faster. 'course, seokkie. i love you,' you say and you say it so easily that his breath hitches.

and if you can say it to easily then he can, too. 'i love you,' he voices out, trying out these words on his tongue. they feel good. 'i love you.'

there's a change in your eyes, like you start to get what he means. when seokmin leans in, you don't stop him or lean back. when he kisses you, you don't push him away or tell him to stop - you kiss him back.

and it's not something up for arguing either. because you are his first friend, his first girlfriend, his first love. seokmin dares anyone to tell him that first love is not real or that it won't last - he is here to prove everyone wrong with you. how can it not last, when you're looking at him with your sweet smile and he feels like earth goes around only because you exist?

and it is a plain fact - earth is round, sky is blue, seokmin loves you with everything in him.

a/n: huge thanks to @flipflopscrop for giving me idea for this one! hopefully you all like it <3 - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here