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halfvalid · 1 year ago

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pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze.

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too.

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling.

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?”

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded.

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?”

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it.

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.”

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh.

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.”

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?”

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy.

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.”

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?”

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?”

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face.

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder.

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.”

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.”

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.”

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?”

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”

“Not really what I’m into.”

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.”

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?”

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day.

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on.

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled.

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said.

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.”

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?”

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?”

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.”

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?”

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?”

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.”

“You always look nice.”

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.”

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.”

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said.

“Better how?”

“You can probably run in it.”

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep.

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on.

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.”

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty?

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs.

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from.

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened.

“Because of… clothing?”

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?”

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until—

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling.

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size.

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising.

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.”

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it.

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—”

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.”

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?”

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp.

“Let me see.”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively.

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.”

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—”

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“Oh.”

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.”

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point.

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Am not.”

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.”

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.”

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins.

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid.

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—”

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.”

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.”

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him.

“I said you looked pretty in this one.”

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—”

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.”

Your breath caught.

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?”

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.”

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!”

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart.

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.”

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline.

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.”

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go.

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change.

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autistichalsin · 5 months ago

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Analysis of each character's final words in the new Dark Urge evil ending

If you are romanced to a character, you have the option, when taking the new version of the Sins of the Father ending, to kill your partner in front of the others in your party, killing them with one last kiss. They then give their last words and pass away. I love each and every one and feel they are incredible characterization moments.

So let's break these down!

Lae'zel:

I... I am glad it was you. No other blade would have sufficed.

This is something that hammers home that, Vlaakith or no, Lae'zel deeply believes in all the ideals of a Githyanki. Life is a privilege for the strong, and death is the price of weakness. Further, if romanced, Lae'zel will affectionately call you "the source of my bruises" many times. If she has to die, if she has finally found the one person stronger than herself, then she is "satisfied" that it is you- who she both loved and admired. The only one she would ever consider worthy of besting her.

Karlach:

Fuck you.

Short, simple, and to the point, just the way Karlach does everything else. She's already gone through all her stages of grief with her engine- well, almost all of them. Anger still remains. She burns hot until the end.

Wyll:

I... I forgive you.

This isn't just Wyll being a good guy. This is heartbreak, and guilt. Guilt for not saving you from Bhaal's influence when he was so sure he had. Heartbreak that after he gave his literal soul to save as many people as he could, he couldn't save you- and couldn't save others from you, either. All he sacrificed, negated in an instant by the person he loved and trusted most. Of all the characters here, Wyll (tied with Halsin) sounds the most obviously broken, and it's easy to see why, given that he is self-sacrificing to a fault.

There was a set of scenes datamined from the game, where at the Morphic Pool, the Netherbrain would have taunted the players, causing them to hallucinate things related to their fears and insecurities. Wyll's would have been a vision of himself talking about how he was never a hero, how the Blade of Frontiers was a farce all along. One can't help but think about that scene here, wondering just how much blame, bordering on self-loathing, he might feel here.

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

I... I'm coming to you, Lady Shar.

Another short and simple one. By becoming a Dark Justiciar, Shadowheart has fully embraced the nihilism of Shar's teachings. Why be saddened or angry at her own death when this is just what she's embraced with all her sacrifices?

(Sidenote: this does also answer a question I had, namely, what was going to happen to everyone Durge kills. Thankfully it seems they aren't actually going to be sacrificed to him as such, and will indeed end up in the realm of their deities. This makes Bhaal's plan even DUMBER, because deities in DND lore need worshippers to have enough power to exist. Killing everyone at once just guarantees that soon after Durge dies as the last person alive, so too will Bhaal fade from existence.)

Selunite Shadowheart:

I... I thought we were going to save each other...

This Shadowheart rejected everything she knew. She was scared to defy her goddess, but worked up the courage- thanks to you. She thought you would have a new life together. She believed in you. She thought she would get to return the favor, and help you turn the page on Bhaal, too.

She's not just heartbroken for herself; she's heartbroken for you, too. Heartbroken at the life you denied both her and yourself.

Gale:

You made me want to live...

From the moment the orb entered Gale's chest, he knew he was at risk of dying. Then Mystra all but marked him as a dead man walking. But despite that, he finds love with you- and for the first time thinks maybe there is a purpose for him beyond Mystra. That he isn't more useful to the world dead. More than that, he wants to live to be with you, to enjoy your company and companionship. And then you kill him, and do the one thing WORSE than what would have happened if he'd never been pulled from that rock.

It almost would have been kinder to just hack his hand off the first time you met him, though Gale may or may not agree.

Spawn Astarion:

I should have killed you when I had the chance...

The angriest, most bitter response out of all the romanced companions, a step beyond Karlach's "fuck you." This is beyond "fuck you" and even beyond "I hate you." It's "I regret every moment I spent with you." You made him believe he could have better. That he could recover from what Cazador did. You even convinced him to spare the 7,000 spawn and that he could be something better than Cazador.

And now you reveal it was all a lie. Astarion is probably thinking that you talked him out of completing the ritual solely so he'd be easier to kill right here and now. How many regrets are flashing through his mind, how many moments where he wonders if things could have been different if only he'd done this or that, even aside from killing you?

All he wanted was to live as a free person. And then the first time he thinks he has that at last, he loses it as the world ends.

Ascended Astarion:

No... no, this can't be... I can't- you can't- no...

In contrast to spawn Astarion, ascended isn't angry, because he doesn't have the clarity, the ability to process what's happening. Spawn Astarion could tell he'd been betrayed.

But Ascended? Ascended, who went through so much to become one of the most powerful beings in the world, only to STILL lose without fanfare? And by you, his own spawn who he thought he had under his control? It isn't betrayal, because he is bluescreening; he can't comprehend what happened or how or why. How could he have been killed, and by you of all people? Was all he went through killing Cazador really for nothing? How could it be when he was supposed to be the most powerful? Was power actually meaningless all along?

He doesn't say anything of substance because he can't understand what's happening here.

Halsin:

Thaniel... goodbye...

Halsin is the oldest of all the companions. He's experienced the most loss of anyone; his birth family, his fellow Druids, and, for a time, Thaniel. He has had more than enough time to contemplate his own mortality, because he's already lived multiple lifetimes.

So here, two things are happening. One, he isn't expressing anger or betrayal at his murder- because he is more than wise enough, and humble enough, to understand that there are worse things than what has been done to himself. Instead of himself, he is thinking of the world he's leaving behind that is about to fall- and most of all, of his most important person, the one who gave him a purpose, who was there when no one else was, who he failed once and only just got back. The closest thing to a child he'll ever have. In his last moments, instead of himself, Halsin is thinking of those he loves.

And second, it's an almost deliberate snubbing of Durge. He willingly walked into that kiss, knowing full well it would be the last thing he ever did. He gave you his death, he pleaded with his own god to forgive you and him both. He gave you everything he felt he owed you, and no more- no begging or sobbing. Instead, he comes as close as he ever gets to selfishness, and spends his last moments thinking about the thing that makes him the happiest- which could have been you, in another life, if you hadn't done this.

Minthara:

No... we were meant to do this together...

Heartbreak, disbelief, and betrayal. You spent so many nights planning this out. She had been cast aside by her people, her goddess, and she was going to get the last laugh. She was going to crush them personally under her heel and prove she was the best (or second best, behind you) of all of them. She's devastated she won't get to help you torture all those souls and take what she feels was owed to her. But interestingly enough... no anger. Probably because it was overshadowed by the sheer heartbreak, but also a sign that even in those moments, she still admires you for your ruthlessness.

#halsin #shadowheart #astarion #gale dekarios #karlach #lae'zel #minthara #wyll #wyll ravengard #jenevelle hallowleaf #halsin silverbough #astarion ancunin #karlach cliffgate #minthara baenre #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dark urge #the dark urge #spoilers

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jarofstyles · 3 months ago

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Cabernet

This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.1k

Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements

-------

Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated.

Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts.

“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company.

Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased.

“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her.

It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.

Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous.

Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy.

“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead.

Again, cute.

“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”

“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out.

“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap.

“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?”

“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.

“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.”

“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”

“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”

There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.

He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.

Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship.

“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.”

“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.

“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward.

“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?”

Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day.

Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap.

“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”

——-

Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night.

She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim. “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too? Fill you from both ends."

“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?

“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."

The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.

"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.

As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.

She had done it.

“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.

"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."

“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.

"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."

It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.

He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”

Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”

Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him.

“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting, but she wanted to hear it.

"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."

Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”

"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”

“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”

"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.

"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.

Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.

As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.

His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.

"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.

His restraint shattered at her words. "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."

With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.

With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”

“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”

“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.”

Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.

“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return.

“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.”

“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy.

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles age gap #dilfrry #Merlot #soft Harry

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sscieloz · 5 months ago

Text

Live my life

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and they still don’t have a lot to offer, and there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them blindly.

Warnings: smut. lowk confusing… but it’s the aesthetic

Word count: 9.9k

Notes: I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE DEAD 😤😤 I was obsessed w the MV as soon as it was out so I wrote this work!! it ended up being too long (lol) so i decided to split it in 2. I SHALL NAWT VANISH ANYMORE PINKY PROMISE.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

“Do you think it’ll fit?” Ningning’s hesitation is easily explained by the amount of suitcases hanging from the small hood of the car. The four girls agreed to bring each a single backpack of clothes for themselves, so the instruments and sound equipment could also be transported.

Clearly, it was still too much.

“It has to.” Winter answers, her tiny frame reaching up as she tries to grab one of the big suitcases herself. With Ningning’s help, she manages to do it, and they both stare at the car, wondering about an adjustment that would work.

Just as both girls imagined how to rearrange the space, Giselle and Karina stepped down the house's stairs, frowning.

Karina, is, as always, not amused by the struggle placed in front of her, but Giselle scoffs, judging her bandmates for not having things ready yet. They were supposed to pack their stuff in the car while she and Karina prepared their snacks and made sure all the windows and doors were closed, so they’d find no surprises once they got back home from their trip. Now, they’d leave later than expected, which would result in them facing the road at night— which was exactly what they were avoiding.

This day was starting to piss her off.

“What are you doing?” Giselle crossed her arms against her chest, trying her best to not sound as irritated as she was. They all knew, though. The girls know each other too well.

“Playing Tetris.” Minjeong stared back at her, with a tone that was just as presumptuous. “What does it look like we’re doing, Gigi? The space is obviously too fucking small for all of our stuff.”

Karina takes a step further before Giselle is able to open her mouth and give her friend a petty response. Her clumsy hands rearranged the suitcases so fast the three girls barely registered her actions, closing the hood of the car in a quick motion so everything wouldn’t fall off.

“Mhm, you won’t be able to see much of what’s behind the car, Gigi, but I don’t think it can get any better than that.”

The girls simply stare, impressed by Karina’s skills.

“So… problem solved?” Ningning asks, and they all nod.

Without a word, the four girls enter the small car, squeezing themselves as they prepare for their small trip. It wasn’t uncommon for the band to spend hours stuck in Giselle’s stepfather’s old 2000 Civic, but the lack of space was always annoying, making them all feel packed in like sardines. However, the vehicle was the only option they had to make their way to nearby cities to perform, so they avoided making any complaints.

The band was just about an hour into their 4-hour drive when Giselle pulled over, cursing under her breath.

“Fuck.” She mutters, biting her nails as she looks at the line of cars being stopped by the police, just a few miles ahead. Her face was even paler than usual, which set the girls on alert mode immediately— out of the four of them, Giselle was the least likely to panic at any unusual situation.

As soon as her body tensed, the Uchinaga felt long, lithe hands on her neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to soothe her, filling her with reassurance. Karina’s, naturally. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, why did we stop?” Ningning adds to Karina’s question, just as curious.

Minjeong’s brows furrow and she adjusts her posture, trying to stare at the horizon in the same position Giselle was, from the passenger’s seat instead. As always, she’s quick to understand the situation. “They’re stopping the cars ahead, but it’s just their normal procedure. They’ll stop us, of course, since we’re young girls traveling by ourselves with a bunch of luggage, but we’ve got nothing to hide, so… keep going, unnie. It’s fine.”

Seconds went by before Giselle grunted, a tense atmosphere hanging in the air while she fidgeted her fingers. Only then, her answer came, barely in a murmur. “I don’t have a license.” She could only hope they hadn’t heard her.

Judging from the way her bandmates’ mouths opened in shock they all started to speak together, though, they did.

Such a selective hearing, huh. She always had to yell at them at least three times for someone to get up from the living room and do the dishes, whenever they were home.

“What the fuck, unnie?”

“Do you really drive us illegally? Girl, we go everywhere by car!”

“I can’t believe you’re so damn irresponsible, I fucking swe—“

Karina stops their banter by out-screaming the two younger girls, a few minutes after Giselle had shrieked down on her seat so much she could merge with it anytime. “Wait! Wait.” Three pairs of eyes stare at her, inquiring. The quietness was odd, but it didn’t last much anyway. “I thought you had your permit taken last month?”

It’s Giselle’s turn to roll her eyes, then. “I literally told you I failed. Do you pay attention to anything I say?”

Despite the situation they found themselves in, Minjeong and Ningning couldn’t help but giggle. It wasn’t news that Karina’s got her head up in the clouds, but her innocence was always funny to the girls. Despite being the oldest, she’s just a big puppy, after all.

And she looks outraged, ears red at the thought of being fooled by Aeri.

“What? we even celebrated!” Her face comes to the realization, as Minjeong tries to hide her laughter with a fake coughing fit. Winter’s blonde hair blows effortlessly when she turns her head to the window, in an obvious attempt to escape Giselle’s piercing stare. “Oh! Was that why you were being such a jerk the entire night, at the club?”

Giselle ruffles her hair in frustration but nods anyway. “Yes, that was the reason. Thanks for reminding us of that wonderful day, Jiminnie.”

Ningning taps on Karina’s shoulder, in hopes of offering some comfort to the desolated girl. She whistles, then looks from Aeri to Minjeong as if hoping they’d pull a permit out of nowhere and start driving again. Once it’s clear none of them would provide any solution, she does so herself, lifting her hips to grab her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll call Y/n.” Is all she says, clicking on the red number with 13 missed calls on the screen. “She’ll do something about it.”

Karina’s even more outraged, then, staring at Ningning in disbelief. She tries to reach out for her friend’s phone, but the maknae pulls her hand away with a huff. “Why do you even have her number, anyway?”

Sure, you’d be at their presentation, even if it were at a nearby town, hours away from where they lived. Somehow, you always show up. The girls couldn’t even remember when it happened; all they know is that they played at Ningning’s cousin’s club once, and from then on there you were, accompanying them in every step. You took pictures, edited videos to upload on their YouTube channel, and even helped them get some gigs every once in a while. It’s difficult for the girls to understand the reason you spend so much time and effort with them— a broke, nugu band who’s been doing this for a little over a year, yet there you were. Their first and most faithful fan, ready to drop everything and help them with any situation, at any given time.

Just like now.

Nonetheless, they had agreed to keep you at an arm's distance, only so the lines wouldn’t get too blurry. With time, they got to know you better, and it was noticeable you were as spoiled, obsessive, and explosive as you were sweet and passionate about the things you liked.

Truth be told, you scared them a little.

“I thought we had agreed on not talking to the psycho anymore,” Minjeong commented, resting her head on the window.

Ningning pauses at that, muting herself on the phone for a moment before answering, straightforwardly. “Well, do you want to get there or not?”

Her honesty is harsh enough that Minjeong lifts her palms in surrender, while Karina and Giselle share a knowing look. Ning’s right, naturally —what matters is that they get to the club on time.

“Fine,” The blonde sighs, turning to point at Karina. “But you’ll have to handle that nightmare of a weirdo. Don’t let her freak out or anything, like she did last time.”

“Why do I always have to do it?” Karina pouts, rolling her eyes. “Come on! What the fuck.”

Giselle giggles, grateful that Karina can’t reach out to punch her as she nods. “I agree… it’s a leader’s duty.”

With her brows furrowed and her rosy lips, the oldest member of the band looks much like a doll, adorable in all of her mannerisms. Even when she scoffs, it doesn’t come out nearly as rude and intimidating as she intends it to be. She still looks like a painting, so pretty Ningning pokes her playfully, brushing the irritation out of Karina with her ticklish fingers. Once she’s left ticklish in her seat, Ningning drops her phone, done with her call.

“Y/n said she’ll be here soon.” She announces, and the girls hum faintly in response. It’s enough for her to giggle, reaching out for her bag in hopes of finding a snack. “Don’t be too excited, damn...”

“I just hope she doesn’t take long,” Giselle mutters, ignoring the glares she gets by being to blame for their current situation.

“Well, if someone had just passed their driving test, we wouldn’t—”

The Uchinaga turns to Winter so fast her neck makes a weird noise. “Shut the fuck up, Minjeong.” Her tone is full of mockery, which is dangerous. Giselle gets irritated easily, but it’s hard to get her mad. Whenever she does, though… None of the girls like that. “I don’t see you driving around either.”

Minjeong, who’d rather die than recognize she doesn’t excel at something, puts a hand on her chest with the comment. Her face is quickly filled with red and, in a minute, she’s defending herself as if she’s just received a 5-year sentence.

As much as their banter is entertaining, Ningning still clings onto Karina on the backseat, resting her head on her unnie’s shoulders.

“I do hope Y/n arrives soon.” She tells her friend, closing her eyes despite the noisy background.

Karina smiles, ruffling the maknae’s hair with tenderness as she relaxes beside the oldest. “Don’t worry, Ning. She will.”

If there’s something she’s sure of, is that you don’t play when it comes to their band. Be it for good or for worse.

—

“Hello, cuties.” You say, tapping your knuckles on the driver’s window to gather attention. It works: the girls all jump in their seats, cursing under their breaths as they try to gather themselves from the scare. “Your knight in shining armor has come! Hurry, hurry! You’re running late.”

It had been less than an hour since Ningning’s call, so there’s no way you could’ve reached them so quickly. None of them say those words out loud, of course— some questions are better left unanswered.

“Here comes the devil.” Minjeong mumbles. The smile she gives you is drenched in feigned politeness, yet yours is sincere, bluntly ignoring her grumpiness with a wave of your hand.

“Hi, Y/n.” Karina greets you as the four girls get out of the car. You hug each one of them energetically, clearly pleased to be urged to help.

It doesn’t even bother you that Giselle, Winter, and Ningning only mumble, not paying you much attention. If only, your happiness would take long to wear off.

Still swooning, you gesture to the van that’s parked beside their car where a handsome, baby-faced boy waves at the girls with ease.

“My brother won this van at a bet a few days ago, and fortunately, he lent it to us. It’s more fitting for a band anyway.” You gesture at their car, still explaining. “Gyu can take your stepdad’s car back to your house, Gigi. Don’t worry.”

They already know Beomgyu from the previous times he’s dropped you off at their rehearsals and shows, so it’s nothing new. Although Giselle doesn’t seem convinced about your idea, she reluctantly gives him the car keys anyway. There’s no other option; she can’t just leave the car on the road, even though giving it to a stranger makes her uneasy.

“Thank you, Beomgyu-ssi.” The girls bow at him, thankful for the extra space, to which he simply nods.

The girls are quick to transport the suitcases to the van, stretching their legs out as they sigh with contentment. It’s like they can finally breathe, now that they’re not cramped in a tiny space. Even Minjeong is smiling, her little banter with Giselle being long forgotten by now.

Giselle is in the passenger’s seat, this time, and she’s surprised to see how easy it is to talk to a happy Y/n. You laugh and gossip over other bands the girls come across sometimes, and you tell them the entire story of how Beomgyu actually got the van. Time flies by while you’re on the wheel, and soon enough the four girls find themselves at the back door of the club, fixing their instruments for the time they go on stage.

—

“Do you get all those insane takes with this old-ass camera?” Ning asks curiously, holding the straightener against her hair as she watches you record Winter, who’s busy tuning her bass and pretending you don’t exist.

“It’s vintage, unnie.” You correct her, zooming in on the blonde girl’s delicate hands and her precise movements against the cords. “It has amazing quality, still.” Because Ningning is still staring, clearly waiting for a more direct answer, you add, “Yes. Pretty Much. Hey Minjeongie, look at the camera so I can get a better shot of you.”

All Winter gives you is an irritated look as she scrunches her nose and shakes her head. The girls enjoy arriving early at their events so they’re able to gather a few minutes of quietude, strictly to relax and focus on not letting the nerves overcome their abilities to shine on stage. You know that— it’s something you’ve seen them do countless times before. You find it adorable how they’d just close their eyes and try to control their breaths, fingers tapping their thighs to ease the anxiety that always comes with the wait of going on stage. No matter how many times they perform, the thrill will always be the same.

Although you don’t mind interrupting Winter’s time of focusing at all. Seeing you won’t give in, Winter scoffs, dropping the bass onto her lap. “Be polite, Y/n. Say please.”

Her intentions are as obvious as daylight. She’s mocking you, defiant like the insufferable being she is. Out of the four girls, Minjeong is the most stubborn, and you’re much alike. She was the one you got into most arguments with, none of you backing down from the opportunity of being right.

Said banter is the reason you turn and adjust the camera focus to Ningning, instead of giving in to the blonde girl. Yizhuo looks pretty as always, smiling at you as you kneel to get a take of her from a better angle.

You’re immediately interrupted by the same girl who was irritated by your presence just seconds ago. In a blink, Winter’s hands go to your chin, forcing you to face her with an assertive grip. “No. Film me.” Her porcelain skin shines against her dark eyes, who pop out even more, making her intimidating aura stand out in the small room as she adds with an icy, commanding tone, “And have manners.”

God, you’d gladly take her down just to get rid of that cocky tone.

“Stare at the fucking camera so you can have some decent solo shots, Winter unnie.” Your reply comes immediately, tone dripping with venom, “Please.”

Winter’s face is so red you’re afraid she’s going to combust at any second. She never spares hurtful words during arguments, and you’re ready for her to give it all. Disaster is set to happen until Giselle pops her head backstage, looking for you. Her eyes disappear and her cheeks flare up as soon as she meets your face, breaking the tension with a smile once her presence unintentionally ends the small battle you were having with Winter.

“Y/n!” She calls, handing out her hand to help you stand up. “Could you come help us with the drums, please? The guys from the bar are trying, but they’re so damn useless… We need you.”

You look away and Winter’s grip on you fades, although her trimmed nails still scratch your jaw as she lets her hand fall to her sides and returns to the couch, tuning her bass as if she had never been interrupted.

“Sure, Gigi. Let’s go.” It’s impossible to not smile back, allowing yourself to be guided through the narrow stairs of the place until you arrive at the stage. You don’t bother saying goodbye to either Ningning or Winter, knowing you’re going back to them as soon as you’re done.

The two younger girls are left by themselves, in silence for the first time since you arrived to pick them up, hours ago. It’s unsettling yet peaceful; not uncomfortable by any means. They’ve known each other for too long by now, so being with each other is more than natural— it’s one’s absence that is unsettling.

After giving her hair a few finishing touches, Ningning turns to her bandmate, pulling the chair beside her as she gestures for Minjeong to sit. Its leather cover is torn and the comfort is long gone, but they don’t mind. They’ve performed in far more awful places anyway.

“Okay, I’m done! Be still while I do your makeup, now, unnie.” Minjeong does as told, closing her eyes while the maknae starts moisturizing her skin.

The silence has Winter’s mind replaying the previous banter nonstop. She tries to stay silent, but the memory of your petty smirk is enough to leave her fuming, pumping with rage.

“Can you believe her, Ning? That fucking bitch, ugh. She’s so insufferable.”

“Oh, definitely.” Ningning smiles, thankful Minjeong has her eyes closed. She lets out a small giggle, still focused on brushing the concealer through her friend’s face. “God forbid someone puts you in your place, right unnie?”

She nearly doesn’t escape the highlighter Minjeong throws in her direction, now laughing freely as she continues with her task.

—

Aespa is a band of many talents.

The girls all met during sophomore year of high school, all trapped in detention for the day (as much as Minjeong would rather die than admit she’s ever gotten detention in her life). Even though they differ in personalities, in a clear contrast of cultures, manners, and experiences — their differences somehow added to each other until there wasn’t something missing anymore. The feeling of longing and loneliness that had accompanied them for so many years had finally ceased. After that, the girls found themselves at peace: the world was finally silent, as long as they were together. No matter how chaotic it was, Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning knew they’d like nothing else but to be together.

Luckily, they all shared two main passions: the love for music and the desire for attention, so being in a band together was something that happened rather naturally. The members all agreed, then, that Karina should be the leader. She was soft-spoken, calm, and had the experience in the industry the others lacked, from being a child model. It was the right decision: the oldest would do anything to protect her girls, and knew just the right people to ask for opportunities. They weren’t famous, nor did they make enough money to live off exclusively from the music, but it was enough, for now.

They had trouble understanding you, though. It was hard to grasp why on earth would they have someone so faithful, so committed to following their every move when they weren’t even famous? They didn’t have money, influence, or anything to offer you whatsoever. Yet you were always there, giving them your endless support without asking for anything in exchange. You could be a handful sometimes, sure, but still… your commitment was something that left the girls constantly wondering.

Because you’re special. The world will see this too, someday. is what you’d always answer, followed by a giggle and a wave of your hand, muttering about how it all wasn’t that big of a deal.

But as Giselle watches you help them relocate their instruments and set the tripods and cameras straight, she wonders if that’s truly it.

“Hey, Gigi.” You smile at her, looking down at the ground once you realize you’re the object of her piercing, focused gaze. “Are you and the other girls ready to go? Everything’s in order here.”

Now isn’t the time for that, though, Aeri reminds herself. As of now, the only thing she should focus on is her upcoming stage. Music is one of the many things she was strict with: she pushed herself to nothing but perfection, no matter where she was performing.

The other girls are quick to follow your call, grabbing their instruments and getting into their starter positions as they’ve done countless times before. They all adjust their mics to the perfect height until Karina is the only one left in the center, tapping hers to make sure she sounds loud and clear. Ningning’s hands fiddle with her drumsticks nervously, paddling along with her whole body— surely from the energy drinks she’s had minutes before, while Minjeong and Giselle stay each on one side of the stage, waiting for their leader’s cue.

Offering free tickets for those who arrived before 11 PM was a great strategy that many clubs implemented to fill up their spaces. And even though you’re well aware the girls are known enough to gather such a crowd without that stunt, you’re glad to have a full house staring at the small stage with expectation.

Karina waits until you’re done with your camera’s finishing touches up to speak, her voice echoing through the noise so easily that your hands stop adjusting the device’s focus to pay attention to her. With a smile so big her eyes grow small, her face is like a beacon, gathering all the focus to herself without the need for a spotlight.

“Goodnight! I’m Karina, and those are my bandmates: Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning.” She points to each of her friends, who bow and wave excitedly, still waiting for her cue. “And we’re AESPA! We hope you like our music, we’ve worked hard on our songs! Please enjoy.”

With that, Ningning taps on her drumsticks, as they’ve done countless times before. Minjeong’s bass and Giselle’s guitar sync with Karina’s voice as soon as they start playing, the melody echoing through the place like physical particles. Music is more than just a part of their lives: it’s who they are, how they express themselves, what they breathe, and it’s easy to forget they’re at a shitty pub and not at a fancy festival. As long as their voices and instruments are harmonizing together, the girls get lost in their passion and nothing else matters.

Even though they’re a new group— barely a year into the industry, original songs are not something that lack from their setlist. The public is screaming, the girls are jumping as they sing and dance along the rhythm and you try your best to capture their best angles, but the distraction in the form of a sin that is Karina prevents you from doing a good job. Her dark eyes glow in the dark, giving her an angelic aura as her strong voice reverberates through the place with ease, despite her shitty mic. It’s an impressive crowd they’re performing for, but she’s only staring at you. Preventing you to breathe or even move, afraid she’d lose her interest and look elsewhere.

No, you’d have none of that. Like all the girls, Karina was yours: you’d share her utter attention with no one.

So you stay at the front line, with your hands holding onto the camera as your head is held up in a frozen frame, looking at her.

You’d always look at her.

—

The afterparties are always one of the girls’ favorite events. The adrenaline rush is still present, giving them tons of energy to drink and party with strangers. They are constantly showered with compliments, being pampered, and indulged with all the attention they crave. It’s part of the reasons why they deal with music, obviously: Minjeong, Giselle, Ningning, and Karina. Because the desire to be seen and recognized for their music is a feeling they’ve been looking for ever since they can remember.

And that’s exactly what they were indulging in before hearing a loud crack from outside of the backstage room. The noise, followed by a bunch of ugly screams, startles the four girls, who exchange a quick, worried glance before storming down straight into the sideway alley.

“Damn.” Ningning whistles, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the smile coming from her lips. At her side, Minjeong and Karina are equally shocked and frozen at the scene unraveling in front of them.

People usually use the dark alley to smoke and get a break from the noisy, heated space of the club. Instead, the four girls find a huddle of girls so entwined with one another it’s hard to tell how many there are. Four, maybe five? Of them are vividly screaming, kicking, tugging, and pulling hairs. Despite the mess, the girls realize there’s one that keeps beating the shit out of them, which is impressive due to being gravely outnumbered.

As the commotion stops for seconds once the strangers become aware of the newer company, it’s easier to tell a specific head of honey hair apart from the others.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Minjeong’s murmur doesn’t come off nearly as disappointed as she intends to. If anything, she’s also holding back her laughter while you prove that one does not need that many muscles to win off a fight.

“Go Y/n!” Karina claps, cheering. None of the three girls make any move towards the scene, so Giselle turns her head towards them in disbelief.

The Japanese girl shrugs, quickly making her way onto the ground to break off the fight. She’s always been strong, and her time spent at the gym pays off as she grabs you by the waist and throws you over her shoulder, heading back to the backstage room as if you weigh nothing. Any attempts of resisting are useless, yet you don’t make Giselle’s job any easier— your kicking and screaming are now directed at her, hands curling into fists while you use your entire strength to hit her muscled back.

“Put me DOWN! I’m not done with those whores.” Your feverish voice is ignored by the four girls, who are used to your tantrums by now.

They know you’re naturally provocative, and never one to back down from a fight, even if you were in the wrong. And, somehow, you were good at it too: even if you left bruised and scratched, your opponents would somehow always turn out worse.

“Sorry ladies, we have some issues to deal with. If you excuse us.” As the group goes back inside, Ningning offers the poor beaten-up girls a calculated smile before closing the door on their faces. She doesn’t bother to check in on them— they’re strangers, after all.

You’re thrown onto the worn-out sofa with little care, suddenly staring at four serious faces. The funny atmosphere of the fight is long gone, so you cross your arms under your chest and grunt, face held high to put up with their judgmental looks.

This is their job, and they can’t have you causing trouble over anything. You’re associated with them by now, whether they like it or not. It’d be an awful occurrence.

“So, troublemaker, tell us.” Giselle is the first to speak, brushing the bangs out of her face. Even after carrying you for solid minutes, she still looks flawless, much different from your disheveled self. “What had you beating their asses out there?”

There’s a pout on your lips, and the defiant air in the room stirs up their nerves. It’s an annoying interruption of the fun they were having just now, and the alcohol makes it hard for them to stay patient.

Minjeong takes half a step forward, her hands messing up your hair even more. “Speak, Y/n. We have better things to do.”

She doesn’t coddle you, tone cold as it always was when directed towards you, but you don’t mind. If anything, you take pride in making her life a bit more difficult every time. You know they won’t give you their attention for much longer, though, which is why you take a deep sigh.

“I was defending your honor, you idiots!” You gesticulate towards the door, huffing. “Those whores were out there, talking about you, speaking the most vile things… I had to do something. You should be thanking me, and not look so pissed.” You roll your eyes, muttering the rest to yourself as you sink on the dirty couch. “You never acknowledge anything I do anyway.”

It had felt too hot inside, so you passed the backstage area to gather some fresh air at the alley when you encountered the group of girls. They were in love with the band, obviously, and were very vocal about the things they’d let the girls do to them: how their leather clothes were so tight and how hot they were… Hearing such things being said about your girls made your blood boil. They were yours, and no one else had the right to desire them like that. So you were quick to take action and make sure everyone knew who Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning belonged to. As a matter of fact, It was a successful attempt: after the lesson you taught them, those girls would think twice before saying anything again.

Your gaslighting does little to the band; it’s easy to look further into your façade now that they know you. They don’t pity you in the slightest, well aware you’re one to be cautious around.

Karina smiles at your act. She can’t help it if the pout on your lips makes you so adorable, and your crossed arms are the reason your send nudes crop top rides up so your boobs are even more evident. “Which things, Y/n? What were they saying, exactly?”

“What they said doesn’t matter.” You huff, dismissing Karina’s question with a wave of your hand. “The important thing is that they’ve been dealt with, and your honor is intact. You’re welcome.”

The electronic music is loud, and it’s easy to feel the rhythm reverberating through the furniture, sending electric waves to your bones that rile you up even more. You’re energized, ready to go back to the crowd, drink, smoke, and stir up some trouble again.

Aeri must’ve been thinking the same thing since she merely shakes her head and leaves without a word. Ning is the next one to follow, proceeded by Minjeong, who rolls her eyes and points her finger right at your face.

“You’re such a menace, Y/n. Acting like an animal… you can’t behave at all.” You’re used to the disdain in her voice, so the only thing you do is mirror her snobbish stare as you watch her leave.

Unlike her bandmate, Karina’s eyes are kind— even though you’ve just messed up hard. You’re the only ones left in the room, you realize, as she holds out her hand to you. With her presence, the music ceases, and the only thing you can focus on is the sound of her heartbeat, and how her little chin mole goes up to match her smile, which is equally sweet.

Sweet, patient, and definitely too good for you: that’s Karina, a soul that should stay untouched, not yet ruined by the world and by other people.

Too bad that you’ve never been one to do the right thing.

You navigate towards her in a magnetic motion, taking her help so fast your bodies nearly crash once you get up from the couch. Instead of complaining or making fun of you for being so abrupt, Karina takes her free hand to your face, cupping your cheek before carefully wiping the dirt from your skin.

“Troublemaker.” She repeats Giselle’s words from earlier, although they sound almost reverent when said in her raspy voice, tired from the crazy routine they live with. “She’s a bit right, don’t you think?” The smirk on her lips is playful, and she toys with you. “You keep us on our toes, for sure. I guess someone has to.”

She doesn’t mind. If anything, Karina misses your presence when you’re gone— which is thankfully, a rare occasion. Sure, you’re stubborn, spoiled, and very annoying, but the band somehow needs you to keep their engines running. She knows the other girls feel the same way about you too, even if they’re good at not making it known.

Being with Karina feels right. She’s Aespa’s peace, their leader, and their oldest member. And, just like everybody that has ever met her, you long to be around the older girl.

“Let’s go back to the party, Jimin unnie.” You tell her, crossing your arms behind her neck. If there’s anything she’d want you to do, you would. Gladly. “I want to dance.”

She smiles back at you, looking at the half-open door before nodding. “As you wish, Y/n.”

—

Aespa’s hotel room for the night is precarious, to say the least. The wallpaper is peeling from the walls, the furniture is dusty— and the small dining table seems to barely handle your laptop and media equipment. The bed makes too many weird noises at the slightest movement, and the smell of mold is a bit unsettling for those with a decent sense of smell.

It’s Minjeong’s job to deal with their spending and to book their stays, whenever the band wanders off their hometown. Her father works as a treasurer at a well-established company and has taught her how to handle her own money from a young age. Sometimes, though, she tends to spend too little, given the fact that they still did not earn much with their performances, and the five girls would end up in situations like the current one. Not that they truly minded: they had two rooms to sleep in and breakfast by the morning, which was more than enough. They would handle the rest.

Karina, Giselle, Ningning, and Minjeong are all rockstars, it’s natural for them to thrive under attention. They live for it, and you love to record their pretty faces. Out of all the experiences of being with the girls, getting to take pictures and videos of their performances and looks— be it before, during, or after their shows. Editing might also be a pain and sometimes feel like a chore, but it was also something you enjoyed doing.

Besides, the praises and the proud, enamored look Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minjeong gave you whenever you updated something new to their channel and social media was something you looked forward to, naturally. In fact, you’re so focused on your task that you barely notice a sudden wave of hot breath on your shoulder.

“How far are you, yet?” Karina’s wet hair clings to your neck as you breathe in her post-bath scent, so refreshing. You’re unable to see her sulk behind you, but her whiny tone is enough for you to figure her feelings out before she adds, “Also, why am I the one with the least videos, Y/n?”

You don’t even stop your work to look at the vocalist, who stares at your laptop’s screen with expectation: the answer is obvious to anyone who has ever had the privilege of getting to know Aespa's leader."

“Because I’m always too busy looking at you to focus on anything else.” The words leave your mouth immediately, exposing facts. “But I’ll improve for next time if that’s what you wish.”

Doing anything after Karina opens her mouth is impossible. Her angelic voice and sharp moves draw all the attention to her immediately; one would be completely insane to not be mesmerized by her. By all of her.

“It is.” She nods, still so close you’re able to feel her body pressed against you through the chair’s cracks. Like a kitten, Karina purrs, finally breaking the tension between you by pressing small, wet kisses to your neck. “Y/n…”

You’re doomed. You’ve known that ever since she left the bathroom, with wet hair and red, swollen lips that did little to hide what she was up to while the shower was running.

Karina’s long, purple-painted nails scratch your neck, forcing you to pay attention to her— as if you’d do anything else. You’re quick to comply, closing your laptop as you stand up and walk away from the oldest member, onto your backpack. Her confused brows are adorable, but the realization comes soon once she reckons the camera on your hands. By then, there’s a dirty smirk on both of your lips; you know she loves this as much as you do.

“Are you up for another show, doll?”

Karina nods, suddenly shy from all the dirty thoughts going through her head. Her skin throbs, and there’s a familiar sensation building up in her core from the anticipation.

After waiting for the camera to be well adjusted and centered in front of the bed, with the familiar red dot announcing the recording, she turns around, removing her robe with practiced ease. The silk fabric of her robe cascades from her back, exposing her milky skin in its most perfect form. She’s indeed like a doll; body still untouched, announcing it’s been a while since she’s had any fun, and her Venus dimples flare up with every step she takes towards the bed. Her curves are perfectly enhanced by her sensual walk— she knows so, grabbing her hair out of the way so you’re able to get a clear shot of her body.

You’re so lucky to even have the privilege of looking at her. Karina seems to think the same thing; her knowing smile turns malicious just as she sits on the bed, spreading her legs out for your delight. Playing around with her is almost a routine, by now: Karina needs something, someone to be her stress-relief, and you’re more than eager to help.

However, seeing her bare and so eager to welcome your touch was something you’d crave forever. No matter how many times it happened: you’d always be hungry for the slightest glimpse of her pretty pussy.

And it was no secret that Karina loved to show off, so you drink on her like you haven’t had a single drop of liquor in ages.

It had indeed been too long.

“How do I look, baby?” Her voice is soft, calm as she looks deep inside your eyes and taps on her pussy with two of her fingers. A small strand of wetness lingers between her fingers and her slit, and she takes her fingers forward to make a show for seconds longer. It’s only when the strand dissipates that Karina brings her fingers into her mouth, taking them in ever so naturally. You don’t even register the whine that comes from your lips once she releases them with a ‘bop’, right after licking them clean.

“Absolutely stunning.” Your answer comes in a heartbeat, which pleases her deeply. In a blink, you’re in front of her on the bed, although still careful to not cover up her frame for the camera. Not that you have to worry about that; Karina is well aware of her best angles. “As always.” You lick your lips, eager to have your mouth on her, licking every part of her body until she’s more than satisfied, coated with your saliva.

But you know better than to touch her without permission, so you simply wait, aware she needs more indulgence than merely a few words. You run your hands up and down her legs, ever so obedient, hoping she’ll allow you to touch her.

Instead, her fingers go up to her chest, groping her big, voluptuous breasts. She’s so evil— Karina knows how obsessed you are with her boobs, “You caused so much trouble today, Y/n… I shouldn’t let you touch me at all.”

Her feigned innocence only adds to your desire, dampening your pussy even more. Even though you’re burning up, you can’t help but be in awe by how much of a goddess she looks, and it takes everything in you to not just grab her by the ankles and suck on her clit until she was screaming and leaking white from her pussy. Still staring at you, Karina twists her nipples and moans, biting her lip as she breathes in deeply.

You’re already throbbing yourself, and she’s done nothing. That’s the amount of power she has over you.

“I’ve been bad.” You nod almost eagerly, ready to do whatever she commands you to if it means you’ll get to pleasure her. “Can I still have you, though? Promise to make you feel super good.”

At first look, Karina might be the most inviting one out of all of the girls, but you know better than to fall into her trap: just like her bandmates, the leader thrives on playing games, manipulating people, and fooling around. Thankfully to both you and her, you’re happy to indulge in all of her wishes. So you add, battling your lashes at her as you take off your clothes yourself, not bothering for a command on this matter. “I’ll do my best for unnie…”

Karina’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body; it’s so empowering to know she’s just as affected by you, and she runs her fingers through your hair with practiced ease. Taking her silence as an encouragement, you lie down until your face is lined up with her soaked cunt, blowing warm, rapid breaths onto her sex.

She smiles, then, caressing your cheek before giving it a light tap. “Go get the strap, baby.” Your smile fades immediately, and you contemplate ignoring her words until she’s changed your mind before your cheek is met with more of Karina’s fingers, her touch stronger this time. “Now.”

You huff, muttering incoherences because she’s such a bitch, ruining all of your plans, but still do as told, grabbing the strap without much further fussing. With the toy in hands, you return to the edge of the bed, staring at her with a puzzled look on your face.

“Are you going to use it?” You ask, curious. Taking Karina’s cock was something you always looked forward to, and the sight of her pounding onto you was enough for your walls to clench, eager to welcome her.

Karina launches forward before you even finish your question, grabbing your thighs with practiced ease as her fingers brush your pussy. The surprise touch makes you let out a loud moan, which stirs up a laugh on the older girl.

“If only you’d behaved today… I had so many things planned for us to do.” Karina’s voice sounds almost regretful, making you kneel once again, “No, baby. Tonight’s only about me. Now suck.”

There’s little time for you to think her thoughts through. Your mind goes blank, and you open your mouth to give her a show this time, reversing the roles. Always eager to please, you gag on her cock. Saliva drips onto the sheets as she shoves it down your throat, but you don’t seem to care, emptying your mind to give her will over you to use you like a toy. She’s not sweet or slow by any means— Karina’s innocent smile, welcoming posture, and puppy-like personality make a good disguise for hiding how dirty she is. Part of her tells herself it’s wrong, and that’s why she tries to reject how much her body craves rougher actions, but the truth is that the hiding and the expectation also turn her on.

Those thoughts hover in your mind as you bob on her strap, looking at the leader through your lashes while you gather all your focus on giving your best for her. You try to look your best, and give your best for Aespa’s leader: she deserves nothing less, after all. It seems to be enough for Karina, who sighs at the sight of you staring from behind your lashes with your hair all over the place ever since her tangling hands went to your scalp, encouraging you to keep going for so long you’ve lost track of time.

“Beautiful. You look so beautiful like this, baby.” She murmurs with a low, sultry tone as she takes the strap from your mouth and seals your lips in a slow kiss. You’re starved for her; your boobs press together when you deepen the kiss, desperate for more. At this point you’re already soaked, leaving a deep, wet spot on the sheets— and your skin burns. “Don’t be rude. Say thank you.”

Such a tease, she is. You roll your eyes at her trying to rile you up, and she laughs. “Don’t even.” You mutter, rolling your eyes at her.

Karina’s hands go to your thighs, caressing your skin as she motions for you to get up once again. “You’re so stubborn.” She chants, adjusting the strap on you. Per her request, you lay back on the bed as soon as you’re done, somehow managing to sink under the shallow pillows.

There’s such a mean smirk dancing around her lips. Your cunt aches and it’s borderline painful; sweat covers your body and you’re nearly sure you’ll go insane if you don’t give her all the pleasure she’s worthy of very soon. All you want is to eat her out until she’s breathless, porcelain skin all marked begging for you to stop. Then, you’d lick her clean, making her cum so many times there’d be plenty of milk dripping from her hole for you to drink on. All yours. She’s all yours to tend to.

“Why don’t you just let me do it already…” You whine, drawing your head back when she grabs one of your nipples and twists— the friction feels so good it sends a hit of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Instead of indulging your needs, Karina laughs, and there’s a hidden mockery in her tone that only adds to your frustration. She comes close until her hips rest on your thighs, with the strap being the only thing that keeps a distance between you. Before you’re able to test her patience even more, she positions the dick on her entrance, slightly rocking back and forth so it hits deliciously against her clit.

“You can look.” She says, grabbing your shoulders to steady herself. “But you can’t touch. Understood, baby?”

Karina’s eyes, big and expressive, stare at you with feigned innocence as one of her hands caresses your jaw, lifting your face so you’d stare at her. Having her making such luscious sounds so close to you is like a death penalty. Karina’s mouth hangs slightly open, and you gulp whenever she aligns the fake dick with her entrance, giving you a serious look that makes it clear that she expects an answer to her command.

A huge bitch, she is. A hot, sexy, and huge bitch. It’s nearly impossible to stay still, but you can see the challenge in her eyes as soon as she cocks her head at you. Although her little act of defiance is silent, her intentions are as clear as day: she wants you to humiliate yourself: to beg for forgiveness so you’ll maybe get granted the privilege of touching her.

So you smile back, placing your hands on your hips and doing nothing else, even if you’re itching to run your tongue all over her body. “As you wish, unnie.”

Karina is so wet, of course she is— it’s not hard to leave her drenched. The dick slides in easily, and she takes her time with taking down its inches. Your grip on her hips turns slightly stronger at the sight of her looking so angelical, as her big, soft boobs are all in display to your face. That earns you a censoring look, and you move your hands with another eye-roll. There's nothing more you want but to touch her.

After a few breaths, Karina finds a steady pace, bouncing on your lap. The gushing sounds of her pussy that echo through the room are nearly pornographic, and you find yourself letting out desperate whimpers, too.

“So good.” She murmurs, lost in pleasure. Her grip on your shoulders tightens, and you feel her muscles tensing up.

You can’t help it— watching her pleasure herself is almost too much. Without much thinking, your fingers make their way to her clit, circling her hardened as you study her, testing out the waters. She lets out a gasp at the sensation, closing her eyes to enjoy the way her lower abdomen kept building up the tension. The tingling sensation increases with the rhythm of your strokes, along with her moves, and it doesn’t take much further for Karina to cum.

Just as always, Karina’s strong voice fills the room as she takes her head back, clenching her pussy once the waves of pleasure hit her with strong motions. Her entire body trembles, and she relies on you to keep her steady.

“You look the prettiest when you cum.” You tell her, after a few moments of silence.

The laugh she lets out is weak, more like a giggle as Karina sighs deeply, carelessly throwing herself on your side of the bed. She turns to you, then, so close your noses are nearly touching, disregarding your words as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “And you can’t ever behave, can you?”

You mirror her smirk, pecking her lips before shaking your head. “You like it that way, though.”

The two of you stay in a comfortable silence, one you don’t mind at all. The girls have had some busy, tiring weeks, and you know Karina needs rest. She’s tired—they all are, so the tension relief was well welcomed by the oldest girl. Despite being all sweaty and breathless, Karina is much less anxious now that you’ve helped her relax. She runs her fingers through your body, taking her time until she reaches your pussy. It delights her to feel how soaked you are: she’s aware of the amount of power she holds over you, and the fact that you’re gulping, still throbbing yourself, is something so empowering to her.

It makes her insides tingle all over again, asking for more.

“Jimin…” You whine again, opening your legs to give the girl better access to your entrance. You need her to touch you or else you’ll explode.

Two of her fingers enter your cunt before you can cry any further, hitting a fast pace without warning. The action is well welcomed, and you hold her wrist, motioning to go further. But Karina loves to make you frustrated; it’s almost as if she thrives on it: just like they made their way inside, her fingers are gone, and her mean smirk is back.

“You haven’t behaved at all today.” She repeats herself, laughing as she kisses your pout away. You bite her lip in response, which makes her pull your face away, although she’s still giggling. “You’ll get nothing tonight, baby. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at her, “You’re such a fucking liar! You’re not sorry at all!”

Karina turns her back to you, making a show of ignoring you as she grabs the covers just as a big yawn hits her. “Goodnight to you too, pretty. Sleep tight,” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a sneaky remark when she adds, “Oh, and don’t forget to turn off the camera. We don’t want you running out of battery or anything, do we?”

“You’re such a bitch.” Although you still get up and do as told, knowing she’s partially right.

Karina waits patiently for you to return to bed, with her small eyes and big smile. The sensuality and roughness from earlier have been replaced by her usual bubbly self, which you adore just as much. It has always been amusing to you how easily it is for her to just switch back and forth from the luscious, gorgeous woman she is to her puppy personality, and you adore her either way.

You hop into her arms, humming when she fills your neck with small, wet kisses.

“You have to behave, silly.” Is what she tells you, biting your skin gently. You’re one to bruise easily, you both know it as much. However, you say nothing, allowing her to do as she pleases. “Otherwise you won’t get a reward.”

“We’ll see about that.” You murmur, happy to get lost in her cuddles. “I sure need something after that torture session.”

Your words cause you to be pushed back, although you know Karina’s only joking.“Oh my God! Go to sleep, Y/n. Goodnight.”

“Ugh.” Is all you answer, closing your arms around her waist.

“Y/n.”

“Right, right.” You sigh, “Goodnight, cutie. Can I get a kiss?”

The hand that goes through your face is enough of an answer.

“Sleep. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.” She commands.

And because it’s Karina, you obey. You’d always hail the band’s leader.

Your personal camgirl.

—

Breakfast has always been something you’d skip if you could. It’s a pain to wake up so early, and you need at least an hour to be somewhat presentable and another two until you can properly talk to anyone. However, the soon you leave this shitty hotel the better, so you resume sitting beside Giselle and Ningning while they talk excitedly. You chew on your bread with scrambled eggs with perhaps too much patience, still marveling at how composed they look despite running on 5 hours of sleep.

“So, we’ve got good news. Amazing news, actually. Like, the greatest news ever.” Ningning’s nearly jumping in her seat, her eyes darting from you, then Giselle, Minjeong, and finally to Karina multiple times in seconds. Yizhuo plays with her hands, nudging Karina while nearly dying of anxiety. “Unnie, would you please tell them? Go, go.”

The excitement in her tone captures enough of your attention; you, Giselle, and Minejong collectively sit up straighter, exchanging a confused look. The fact that they know as little as you do is comforting, and stirs up a nice, warm feeling of being included within your heart. The girls could be harsh and a little mean sometimes, naturally, but there are times when they’re also very sweet.

Karina laughs, pinching Ning’s cheeks. Even though Ningning pretends she despises it, you love to baby her and spoil her rotten.

“You can do it, Ning.” She encourages her baby girl to speak up, loving the smile that brightens up the maknae’s lips after the command. “Go ahead, tell them what we’re doing next.”

With her leader’s blessing, Ningning lets out a happy squeal and launches herself upwards. The upper half of her body hangs on the breakfast table as she looks around before whispering as if the topic is top-secret.

“So, this guy approached me after our show.” She stops abruptly at your reactions, waving her hands, “Hey, don’t make such faces! He wasn’t a weirdo or anything, I promise. Anyway, he came up and said he worked for AKT Music Ent. and that he liked our music and thought we had potential.” Ningning pauses, looking up to her leader for reassurance. Once Karina nods, giving her a knowing smile, she adds, “And then I told him to talk to Karina, of course, because she’s our leader and all… but basically, he invited us to compete at The Box, next month. Can you believe it?”

“You’re fucking with us.” Minjeong answers, in awe. She looks at Karina, with her mouth still slightly open in shock. “Please tell me you’re serious. That this isn’t a joke or anything.”

Karina has a proud look on her face as she nods. “It’s a thing. We’re doing it.”

“HELL YES!” Giselle screams, laughing loudly. She reaches out her arms and squeezes you and Ningning in a tight hug, her embrace so strong it’s borderline suffocating. Not that you mind— if anything, it fills you with warmth to be with them in their first big accomplishment. “WE’RE PLAYING IN THE BOX! OH MY FUCKING GOD. WE ARE AMAZING!”

Minjeong and Karina laugh at her reaction, just as happy from the news. Taking part in the event is an amazing opportunity for them: the mere thought of performing at the stage is enough to give them goosebumps, both of fear and excitement.

The Box is a week-long competition where the top 3 winners get a 2-year long contract, each signed with one of the Big 3 music companies of the country: SM, JYP or YG. It’s an elite program where successful bands have gained popularity and recognition, like SNSD. It’s set at a big, open area at the countryside and held much like a festival: the event has become more and more capitalized with every passing year. The companies make sure to hold a big show out of the entire thing, broadcasting the events that happen simultaneously 24/7— numerous interviews, commercials are shot by the participants to support the sponsors of the competition, which helps them to make their debut on national television. There are various foods, restaurants and parties being held at all times. It’s also a great opportunity for fans of nugu bands to personally interact with them, and actually super nice to meet other bands and artists. Besides the main goal, being at the event alone is a huge honor and opportunity for the band to grow as artists. They certainly won’t take for granted.

Minjeong claps excitedly. “We need to celebrate!”

“Absolutely.” Giselle agrees, looking with disgust at the men who kept sitting at the nearby tables even though it was still fairly early, and the Diner was still empty. “At home, though. Let’s get out of here, please.”

The five of you exchange a knowing look, collectively getting up at the same time as you grab your belongings and hurry to leave the shitty hotel. Your hearts are filled with pride, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

“You deserve this.” Is what you tell them, breaking the steady silence that reigned in the car. The girls look at you, all returning from dreamland.

Even though their only response is a faint hum, the satisfaction on their faces tells you they needed to hear that. “This is only a result of your hard work. All the hours of practice, the shitty-ass places you played at before, the No’s you’ve gotten… It’s going to work out, trust me.”

Karina’s arms go to your neck, in a gentle caress as she adds, looking at her bandmates. Her best friends. “Y/n is right. We got this.”

There’s nothing they can’t do, as long as they’re together.

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unoislazy · 3 months ago

Text

Promises

Vi x Reader (Part Two)

(Childhood friends to lovers…)

Love will drive you crazy.

A/N: Leave it to a woman to inspire me to write again. <3

“And promise you’ll come back?”

If only you’d known how long those words stuck with Vi.

For years she had been kept in this prison, her age passing by faster than she could keep count as the days moved on. The gray walls and dreary interior she had become so accustomed to would be her undoing, she thought. The constant torment by the guards, being forced to live with those she always opposed, every reminder that she needed to get out, all of it in the end would amount to nothing. She feared she’d become nothing more than a statistic among the rest of the previous lane's residents.

She feared she’d never get back to you.

That was, of course, until a strange enforcer came to her rescue. Well… rescue was a strong word. In her eyes it was as if she was being taken from one cage to another.

“In what mad world would I trust someone like you?” She remembered the girl saying.

“Someone like you.”

They were all the same.

But she knew this girl was her best bet out of this place. Back to her sister and back to you.

So, with a slightly wounded ego and a more hopeful outlook on life, given her two goals were now closer than ever, she left with the enforcer.

It was as if she appeared from nowhere. When she showed up, Vi truthfully thought she was going to get another “talk”. Instead, however, she was set free. With a price of course. She knew better than anyone than to trust an enforcer, so she kept her distance. Although, she couldn’t help but be thankful for her help even if it meant giving some kind of information in return.

For the first time in years, Vi was able to move freely, hear the sounds of people bustling about, and see actual colors other than the dismal gray that engulfed the entirety of Stillwater. She wasn’t going to let some enforcer stop her from at least stretching her legs as she got reacclimated to the world around her. It wasn’t until the enforcer caught up with her once again did she realize she wasn’t going to just leave her alone.

“Where are we going?” The enforcer asked. Vi had learned her name to be Caitlyn, and honestly she was just trying to lose her but somehow she always found her way back. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, not even bothering to turn back towards her.

“We’re going to visit a friend.” She answered simply, her hood pulled up to cover her tattooed skin and her ever present pink hair. Although the crowd of the people of the lanes was a diverse bunch, someone like Vi would still be easily recognizable for those who knew to look for her, and she was sure there would be a few.

“Will this friend help us?” Caitlyn questioned skeptically, quickening her pace for a moment to catch up with Vi before slowing her pace once again. It was clear she was unsure of Vi's methods, probably letting what she had “learned” about the people of the undercity make her imagination go wild. She too kept her hood up, but less out of keeping her identity hidden, and more as if she was trying to shield herself from the strange new world around her. She had never been to the fissures first hand… and it was a lot to take in.

With her hands tucked into the pockets of her new, freshly stolen jacket, Vi sighed.

“If I say yes will you hurry up?” She asked with a sarcastically sweet smile on her face as she turned slightly to Caitlyn. The blue haired enforcer, now left with little options given that Vi was her only sense of direction, simply nodded in response and followed wherever Vi was headed with a hastened pace.

Luckily for Caitlyn, their route didn’t contain any parkour.

Vi hurriedly made her way through the streets of the Undercity with one place in mind. She had no idea where you could be after all these years, if you were even still here. So, to keep from losing her sanity all at once, she started at the place where everything used to make sense. She couldn’t help but feel her heartbeat quicken ever so slightly, fluttering with even a tinge of hope that things would be just as they once were. With you waiting outside the door, wondering when she’d be free to hang out. Just like how it used to be.

But instead of being greeted with both the nostalgic warm glow off the sign outside of the bar, and you waiting by the door, she was met with a jarring bright green neon eye that framed the sign. People hung around outside, some clearly drunk off their ass, while others picked fights. Two guards stood outside, keeping people out of the, what seemed to now be exclusive, bar.

This wasn’t right. None of this was.

Vi’s grip on the bar that he hands rested on tightened as she looked at the scene before her. If this had changed, she couldn’t imagine what else had happened.

And now she hadn’t a clue in the world where to look for you.

Little did she know, you really weren’t that far from her.

You, like many others in the Undercity, had to make ends meet.

You had to learn to survive.

And as a kid who lost everyone close to them, you really didn’t have many choices. So, you started from the bottom, working in the mines as many other kids your age did and worked your way up. Unfortunately, working in the mines meant you were working for Silco. The kingpin of the lanes. You couldn’t escape him if you tried. No one could, it seemed. The more you worked up and out of the mines, the closer you got to the man himself. Of course you never got to any influential role like his right hand. That title was reserved for Sevika.

But you didn’t need anything like that. You just wanted to survive, you didn’t want to have any real influence.

Who knew from starting out in the mines, you would one day work your way up into working in the bar that you once thought to be a home of some sorts. In your eyes, everyone but Powder had died in that accident all those years ago. You never did find out exactly what had happened and you figured it would be for the best not to ask. That was the best way to get around in a place that involved such sketchy business.

Keep your head down and don’t ask questions.

That’s how you got as far as you did.

What’s the point in asking questions you probably don’t want the answers to.

Every day you came into this bar to work, you couldn’t help but feel an unfathomable weight of guilt on your shoulders. You felt as if you let this happen. You felt as if you could’ve done something to stop Silco from practically desecrating the one thing everyone had left of Vander, other than the statue that was built in his honor. You felt as if you had done a disservice to Vi.

You knew how much Vi cared about those around her, and of course you also knew how much her sister meant to her. You never directly told her but you always knew that if anything had happened to Vi or Vander, you’d help out Powder.

But when the need arose, you realized far too late.

The first day you had come in to work at your new position, just as a regular busser, you hadn’t expected much. You had no interest in the company Silco kept so you never made it your business. Until one day, you were cleaning off a table when a blue haired girl came waltzing in the front door. Her demeanor was cheerful but… with a noticeable edge. There was something off about her. You simply ignored it, figuring it was not worth asking questions until you heard her laugh.

It was as if a strike of lightning struck through your entire being at that moment.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

You slowly turned once again to look back at the blue haired girl. A blue haired girl with even bluer eyes. Her laugh was identical to the one you had come to know very well all those years ago. It was then it clicked with you, that girl was Powder. She was here all along and you never knew. She was alive this whole time. You could’ve done something. You could’ve helped. And instead, here she was under Silcos care when she should’ve been under yours.

But then again, what could you have done? You too were just a child barely able to scrape together enough to make a living on your own, let alone take care of another altogether. Clearly that's not what mattered, what mattered was keeping Powder safe, what mattered was doing what you had secretly promised to Vi. What mattered was-

“Did you hear me?” A low voice broke you from your train of thought as you fluttered your eyelids and shook your head. You then looked up at the women before you who had spoken up just moments prior. You panicked a bit, immediately recognizing the woman to be Sevika, Silco’s cold hearted right hand. She grumbled under her breath knowing damn well you hadn’t heard a single word she just said before repeating,

“Clean this up.” She huffed, her eyelids lowering slightly as she stared at you.

“Right.” You replied quickly before quickly moving to grab your bucket and practically scooping all the dirty dishes into it to bring back to clean. You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself by just doing what was asked of you quick and easy, but it was hard not to let your mind run away from you when being in a place such as this. A place that meant so much to you and you could do nothing but sit back and watch it burn.

As you went back to clean the dishes, you noticed Sevika had gotten up and began to follow you. Great, you upset one of the three main people you never wanted to get on the bad side of.

Good going.

You braced yourself to be ridiculed or fired before you heard Sevika speak up.

“Hey, you.” She called out, to which you turned around, a questioning look on your face as you looked behind you before looking back at her. “Yes, you. Come here.” She called out, now very clearly looking directly at you. If you were wearing boots you’d be shaking in them by now. You listened, of course, and walked towards her, leaving behind your container of dishes on a counter nearby.

Once you made your way towards her, you simply made a gesture of acknowledgement, not speaking up as you waited for her to continue.

“I need you to handle something for me. You don’t talk much, that’s good.” She spoke, her voice low and gritty as she leaned towards you as if trying to keep, whatever she was about to let you in on, a secret. You were just a busser, you weren’t supposed to be involved in any of the bigger things, this isn't what you wanted.

Then again, you were just a busser, so there was no possible way that whatever Sevika wanted to suddenly burden you with was going to be all that damning, right?

“I have a ‘meeting’ tomorrow and I need someone else to go with. Don’t talk, don’t play, don;t do anything, you just have to be there. Got it?” She asked, well actually more like demanded. Then you realized, this ‘meeting’ was just another one of her gambling sessions. She must be playing something that involves two players and as someone who clearly doesn’t want to be in the way, she wouldn’t have to worry about you trying to snuff her out while playing.

You felt as if the entire weight of the world lifted off of your shoulders.

“Got it.” You responded.

“Rotten luck boys.” Sevika gloated, throwing her deck onto the table as the two men before both of you huffed and growled having now the last majority of their money that they likely had saved for this occasion.

Just before she could say anything else, the sound of a sudden impact flew through the air, and before you could ever process what had just happened you watched as a streak of pink flew past your vision. The two men that had once been sitting before you had scurried off, grabbing some of their belongings in the process, clearly not wanting to be involved.

You looked over to Sevika who was now partly on the floor as she grasped her jaw before looking up at the culprit.

“Vi?” You whispered at the same time as Sevika as you both gazed upon the pink haired woman who currently had her back turned towards you.

Vi quickly turned back around to face you both, her eyes quickly glancing at you but her gaze didn’t linger as her focus was clearly on Sevika. Without another word shared between the two of them, punches were thrown, blows were dealt, and the sound of faces hitting concrete became more frequent than you ever would have liked it to.

You backed off, staring at the scrap before you as your eyes remained locked on the pink haired woman. There was no way that was Vi. It couldn’t be, she was killed with everyone else right? Perhaps, this was just a woman who just happened to look like Vi..? You racked through your brain with a million reasons for this to somehow be possible. None of which involved this truly being Vi. You didn’t want to let your hopes up like that.

It wasn’t until you tuned back into the fight had you realized that Vi had kicked Sevika through a wall and was now holding her to the ground.

“Where’s my sister, where is he keeping her!” She demanded, holding her fist to Sevika’s face. It was then you realized, this really was Vi. From the voice, the fighting ability, the hair. You couldn’t deny it, it truly was her.

Your heart raced with excitement as you realized she was alive. She was really alive.

But if Sevika had her way, that wouldn’t be the case for long.

She drove her clawed metal hand into Vi’s abdomen, wounding her greatly.

You didn’t know what to do, if you spoke out against Sevika and lived you would be hunted for sport by Silco’s men, or Sevika herself. If you didn’t do anything, Vi was right on track to die.

Before you could make a decision, you heard the whirring of Sevika’s arm as she stood once again, grabbing Vi and holding her in place.

“Hm, oh. And I almost forgot, a friend of yours wanted to say hi.” She taunted as she tilted Vi’s dreary face towards you. You watched as her face that was riddled with pain changed ever so slightly with shock as she recognized you.

“Sunshine…?” She said quietly. The nickname that she had given you all those years ago. before you both turned back to Sevika as the sound of her arm powering up filled the air. Vi looked as if she had given up by this point, having no more strength in her to fight.

You had to help, you had to do something. You weren’t going to sit by and let this happen.

You weren’t going to lose her again.

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

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natalievoncatte · 3 months ago

Text

There was blood on the door. Lena swept back her jacket in a smooth motion and unholstered her Glock carry piece, holding it low ready as she stepped into the penthouse. The door slid shut behind her and locked itself smoothly. There was no sign of forced entry, meaning whoever came in walked right through her defenses.

She’d armored and fortified this place to the point that the entire building could collapse and she’d probably survive. Some of the materials that went into Lena’s security were not from Earth. Some of them were not from this dimension.

In times past, in good times, she’d have called Alex Danvers, to get the DEO up here for help or hopefully summon Supergirl to her aid. Now those options were off the table.

From its place of dishonor by her sofa, the broken glass in the frame gleamed at her, the time-frozen gazes from her and Kara in the photo staring into her soul.

More blood on the frame, smeared on the edge.

Lena rested her back to the wall and scanned the apartment. There was a clear trail of blood from the door through the living room. Whoever had been here, or was still here, had pressed a bloodied palm to the reader outside the door, leaned on the kitchen island, and picked up the photo, then returned it to its place and left a trail of blood drops to the other side of the penthouse.

To the bedroom.

Steeling herself, Lena press-checked her pistol and ignored the cold ball in the pit of her stomach, along with the screaming instincts telling her to call for her bodyguards and security and the police. She followed the trail of drops, that cold ball climbing its way to her throat. The bleeding got worse as the intruder approached the bedroom, where they’d pushed the door open, leaving a streak of rust on the white.

Lena knew in her heart what she was going to see before she swung the door open.

The gun fell from her hands and clattered on the floor.

Her sheets were streaked with dried blood, but Kara’s cape was as livid a crimson as ever. Fighting the rising gorge in her throat, Lena rushed to the bed, and let out a soft, strained sigh of relief when she saw Kara’s chest moving.

“Mother of God,” Lena breathed, her hands making a vestigial effort to cross herself, the gesture half remember from her earliest youth.

Kara was… a wreck. Her eye was swollen shut and claw marks raked her cheek, the wounds still open and oozing. She’d balled up the sheets and jammed them against a wound in her side, a deep gash that stained the torn material of her suit a dark bruised black.

The Kryptonian in her bed was unconscious, eyes lidded but not fully closed, and deathly pale. Lena reached out a tentative hand and pressed it to Kara’s shoulder and let out a shocked gasp.

She was cold to the touch.

Worst of all was her hands. Her knuckles were busted and split and bloody, palms covered in defensive gashes, crusted with crystals of dark blood.

Lena felt like she was going to burst, like her skin was suddenly three sizes too small. Images flashed in her mind- a defeated, broken Kara, begging her not to turn her back as she lay green-veined and poisoned in a cage at the Fortress of Solitude. Sanctimonius bitch Kara hovering just five feet off her balcony wall, glaring judgment and proclaiming her a villain.

Soft Kara, tending her hurts, holding her cheek in the palm of her hand, her touch always so soft and gentle and tentative, like Lena was some skittish bird.

That wasn’t all. Oh God, that wasn’t all. Kara clutched something to her chest, something she’d grabbed before collapsing in the bed and curled into herself.

Lena’s hooded sweatshirt, the one she used to wear to game nights and movie nights when she wasn’t feeling up to primping and preening, the one she stared wearing when being vulnerable around Kara started feeling like home.

Oh God oh Jesus what am I going to do?

She reached for her phone, then stopped. Kara had fled here from whatever did this to her for a reason. Lena set the phone aside, and assessed.

Kara was out cold. She didn’t seem to be actively bleeding but Lena didn’t dare move her. Instead, she settled for rolling Kara on her back, with great difficulty. She flopped over, boneless.

Lena found her first aid kid and began tending to the wounds.

Fuck, Lena thought. What if she had internal injuries? What if she wasn’t going to wake up?

She focused on what was in front of her. She began by cleaning the wounds, carefully and gingerly applying bandages where she could.

Her hands, oh God her poor hands. Lena wrapped the knuckles gently and pressed ice against them, leaving them testing on Kara’s chest. She dabbed at the wounds on her cheek and carefully taped gauze pads in place after applying antibiotic ointment.

Kara lay on the bed like some badly beaten Sleeping Beauty and she was cold. Her skin felt almost icy, the I only sign that she still lived being the steady but shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Lena grimace. She had to get her out of the suit. First she reclaimed her now ruined and blood-stained sweatshirt and then the ruined top sheet.

Kara’s boots came off, then Lena unclamped her cape and tossed it back from her shoulders.

It took almost half an hour to wriggle her out of the suit, and that was after she had to hunt for the hidden catches and zipper.

Kara lay on Lena’s bed like some wounded goddess out of a forgotten myth, or maybe one never learned.

God she was beautiful, and the sight of her in such distress was more painful than she’d ever admit. Lena felt sympathetic pains in her jaw, her sides, her hands as she imagined the blows that could have wounded her so, wondered what sharpness of blade or claw it took to mark her like this.

Lena spread the curtains, so as to give her as much light as she could. Nurturing light, healing light, but still Lena did not wake.

Finally she learned what did this. Some alien outside Metropolis. They’d stopped it, the creature, but it had taken Kara and her cousin and the other so-called heroes that the news were calling the League.

Lena’s lip was trembling.

She has her grievances. She had her hurts. She had her reasons, her self-righteous justifications and none of them fucking mattered right now because a beaten, broken Kara must have flown from one side of the country to the other to clutch Lena’s fucking hoodie.

“God,” she whispered, sitting in her side chair by the bed. “God what have I done.”

Kara had held them off, she knew. Kept her from being arrested, protected her even after she’d done something awful. New visions flooded her mind, every barb she’d slung and every insult she’d hurled, every word of her explosive raging rant at the Fortress.

She’d killed her brother for this woman. Killed not the man who’d hurt her but the boy, too, the one who treated her like a human being and a sibling, at least for a time. The only family she had.

(The only family you have is lying on that bed and you have to help her)

She was helpless. Kara would either pull through or she wouldn’t. If she didn’t, sooner or later Alex would walk in here and put a bullet through her head and Lena didn’t think she’d mind all that much.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me?” Lena asked. “We could have been great together, you know? We could have been what my brother and your cousin should have been. We could have built a better world.”

Kara said nothing, just breathed.

“I could have told you my secret, then,” said Lena. “I could have held you and touched you and had you. I could have loved you, God damn it. Do you have any idea what you fucking did to me? You gave me the sunrise back and you were too much of a Goddamn coward to let me have it.”

Kara’s hand moved, fingers curling around nothing. She let out a soft sigh but didn’t move.

Lena fought it as hard as she could, fought it for hours. Eventually she had to do it. Gravity, quantum entanglement, call it what you will. She laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling beside her battered sleeping beauty.

“I’m sorry,” said Lena. “I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry for what I did, I’m sorry for what we lost. It wasn’t worth it, Kara. Nothing was ever going to be worth it.”

She was still pale, cold, even when she rolled onto her side and threw her limp arm over Lena’s body.

Whatever made her move had not shaken her loose from her slumber. Kara curled on her side, chill hand resting on Lena’s flank. Another soft sound escaped her slack lips and she twitched.

The sun was going down.

Lena had to call for help. She knew what would happen. Alex would storm in with her self-righteous fury and judgment and fling accusations and then leave, taking her sister with her.

Worse, she would give Lena that look. The one that filled her with such rage and regret, that look not of judgement or even anger but sorrow, because Alex knew. She didn’t have to say it, it had been dripping from every word and deed directed towards Lena since the falling out began.

Alex knew that Lena was in love with Kara. That was the truth of it, the secret she held so hard to her heart that it had slipped her fingers and everyone had seen it but the two of them.

She loved Kara with every piece of her, every cell, every muscle fiber, every neuron, every bone. It lived in her and coiled in her and it had subsumed her soul until it couldn’t be carved out without making her hollow. She’d tried. When she’d hurt Kara she had only wounded herself even deeper. It had been like swallowing a draught of acid and expecting it to burn another.

She didn’t know what to do. She was helpless. Kara might be dying and Lena had never told her.

“Kara,” she said, shaking her. “Kara God damn you wake up, wake the fuck up! WAKE UP!”

Kara didn’t respond.

With a shriek of rage and pain Lena sat up.

“Please!”

Nothing.

Lena finally did it. She snatched the phone from where she’d dropped it and called.

It all happened as she predicted, save one thing. When Alex stormed in with a sub machinegun in her hands, she stopped and raised a fist, ordering her team to stop outside the door.

Lena was kneeing by the bed by then, half mumbling a prayer and stroking Kara’s cold hand.

Alex did not address her. She began barking orders. Stasis pod, medivac.

Bring the Luthor.

Lena sat in the back of an armored van in a daze. She let herself be led around like a trained pet and somehow ended up sitting in a chair outside a medbay room, while a now cleaned up and properly bandaged Kara lay on a bed beneath sunlamps.

“She’s in a Kryptonian healing trance,” said Alex. “If a Kryptonian gets hurt badly enough their body shuts down and goes into a kind of hibernation. She must have used almost all of her reserves to get back to your apartment.”

Alex glared directly into her eyes.

“To see you one last time.”

Lena swore her defiance in silence, but it lasted no longer than it took her to think the oath before the tears started.

“I have to go. The DEO is working with Superman’s little Boy Scout club to keep the thing that did this to her contained.”

When Alex left, Lena stood up and walked into the room.

Kara did not look regal. She didn’t look angelic. She looked vulnerable and small, like a woman a year or two older than Lena with a black eye and stitches in her cheek.

Lena knew the sun lamps would burn her, but she relished it, looked forward to feeling her skin sting and redden. She deserved it.

“Kara,” Lena whispered. “Please wake up.”

Nothing.

“Wake up.”

Nothing.

“Darling, wake up for me, please. Just give me a smile, a wink, squeeze my hand. Anything. Please. Please.”

Kara stirred.

“You can’t go yet,” Lena murmured. “I need you to stay. I need you to wake up so I can say—”

Kara’s eyes were open.

“I love you,” Kara whispered. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

Lena half coughed, half sobbed and lunged across the bed, ignoring the lamps, the bright lights, everything but Kara. Everything but the kiss.

“Don’t you ever scare me like this again,” Lena choked out.

“Turn the lights off,” Kara whispered. “Get on the bed. I don’t need lamps. I need you.”

“Kara, the things I did,” Lena began.

With a weak, shaking hand, Kara pressed her finger to Lena’s lips.

“There’s nothing we can’t fix if we’re together. Nothing.”

Lena reached over, doused the lamps, and climbed in with her. Kara was finally warm again, though she grimaced when she moved, tucking herself into the crook of Lena’s shoulder.

“I will always come back to you,” said Kara.

Lena held her close and closed her eyes, and for the first time in months she slept without tears.

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hgfictionwriter · 7 months ago

Text

Just Friends

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You're Jessie's girlfriend and she gets irritated to no end when people assume you're just friends. She gets even more irritated when you play along with it. You can't help that she's so fun to stir up.

Warnings: Nothing.

A/N: Short little fluff piece. Based on this request.

"I hate that," Jessie scowled as she pulled out her wallet, setting it on the table as you waited for the server to return with the bill. "Together or separate?" She mocked mildly. "Together. Obviously. You're my girlfriend. If I was a guy they would've just brought us one bill."

"I hear you," you said, stifling a chuckle at how worked up she was getting. You couldn't help yourself – you had to poke her a bit. "I guess we just look like pals."

She gave you a slow, scrutinizing look, sparking a shrug from you.

"What? What about us right now would indicate that we're together?"

Her forehead creased as she stared at you. You were seated opposite each other, which was totally fine and expected, but combined with Jessie's general lack of PDA, you could sometimes understand how people might not immediately understand the context of your relationship.

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked defensively in a hushed voice as she leaned in. "We're sitting across from each other!"

You gave a small smile, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin in your hand while giving another shrug. "Well, some light flirtations wouldn't kill you." You sat back, a smirk lingering. "If anything, it probably just looks like me hitting on you all lunch."

She frowned deeper, glancing away as concern settled on her face. Her voice was softer this time. "I'm affectionate," she pouted. And she was, but true, not often in front of prying eyes.

"Sure thing, pal," you quipped, ensuring to catch her eye as you casually looked away. You smirked as you saw her tense up out of the corner of your eye.

"Babe," she said, planting her feet on the ground and leaning in. "Come on."

The server returned, interrupting any further debate. You could see Jessie was still irate as she quietly paid the bill.

"So, any plans for the rest of the afternoon?" The server asked. You really shouldn't stir Jessie up, but it was too hard to resist.

"Oh, not really. We're just old friends catching up – might wander around for a bit after this." You smiled up at the server, but didn't miss the way Jessie froze mid-signature. You bit the inside of your cheek as you saw her slowly look up at you in your periphery.

"Oh, that's so nice!" The server said. "Well, enjoy catching up and enjoy the rest of your day."

You watched quietly as Jessie returned the bill to the server with a terse smile before shifting her gaze to you.

"Seriously?" She asked, a fake smile still plastered on her face.

"What?" You asked innocently as you stood up. "Oh, and thanks for lunch, friend." You bit back a snicker at how her jaw dropped and you walked away knowing she'd be on your heels in a second.

"What the hell," she whispered as she jogged up next to you and you both continued down the sidewalk.

"Oh, come on, babe. I'm just having some fun," you said as you went to hook your arm around hers and cuddle in, but she ducked away.

"Uh uh," she said. "You want to say we're pals, then you don't get any cuddles."

"Fine," you said haughtily. You weren't concerned. Jessie was acting affronted, but you knew she'd come around regardless. "Roomie," you added as you gave her a nudge, pulling another withering stare out of her.

You were at a store a few blocks over trying on some new clothes and Jessie was still in a mood. Normally, she followed closely behind you, holding whatever clothes you wanted to try, suggesting options she liked for you as well. This time, she sulked around the opposite end of the store, though you caught her peering over the racks now and again to check on you.

You played nice enough though. You brought over clothes you liked, asked her opinion, showed her things you liked for her. She grunted a few replies, but mostly just glowered.

"I'm going to try these on," you told her, finding her in some far off corner of the store.

"K," she continued to pout, hardly offering you a glance.

You retreated to the change room, half regretting taking the joke this far when she didn't join you like she normally would.

You sighed as you stepped out of the change room to examine yourself in the mirror. Jessie had wandered much closer, but was still very determinedly examining a nearby hoodie and not you.

"That outfit looks great."

Your head snapped to the side in search of the source of the voice.

"Sorry – I don't mean to intrude," the woman said. "I just come shopping on my own as well and always appreciate getting some feedback or confirmation."

"Oh, well," you said, eyes flitting back to Jessie again who had now moved to a closer display and was watching intently. "I did bring someone. She's just not much of a shopper. Thanks for the affirmation though – I appreciate it," you said warmly.

The woman and Jessie locked eyes and the woman teased her. "Ah, well come on. Get in there," she encouraged with a wave. "That's the whole point of shopping with friends."

"Yeah, Jess. What are friends for?" You asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

The woman retreated and Jessie came towards you with another glower on her face.

"Wow," she said flatly.

"What do you think?" You asked as you modeled your outfit for her.

She crossed her arms, still unimpressed, but eyed you up and down. She eventually cocked her head and she answered you.

"I'm sure a girlfriend would think you're hot in that outfit. A friend? A friend would probably say you look just fine," she said lightly.

"Okay, well, what do you say?" You asked. She shrugged, turning away and distracting herself by looking at other clothes.

"You tell me. Am I your girlfriend or your friend?" She asked with mock indifference, straightening her posture as she did so. You rolled your eyes with a laugh.

"Well from the way you were eyeing me a moment ago, I'd say the former," you said flirtatiously, drawing a blush out of her as she fought back a smile of embarrassment. You gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Come on," you said gently as you tugged on her elbow, coaxing her back out into the store. "Let me get these and I'll buy you ice cream as an apology." She grumbled, but followed along more easily than before.

You stepped out of the store and she reached over to grab the bag out of your hand. You held onto it and she tugged it.

"Let me carry it; that's my job," she complained. "It's my sacred duty as your girlfriend," she went on with an eye roll.

"And you're the best girlfriend," you complimented her as you released the bag and gave her another kiss on the cheek as you walked. She rolled her eyes again and shot you a look.

"Oh, so I've regained my title, have I?" She asked skeptically as she arched an eyebrow.

"You never lost it," you said as you gave her a playful nudge and wrapped your arm around hers. She allowed it this time though she still grumbled. "Don't be silly."

"I don't like you calling me your friend," she pouted.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't nice of me. I got carried away teasing you," you said, kissing her shoulder this time. She watched you wordlessly for a second as you walked together before giving you a quick, fleeting kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry if I’m not affectionate enough. Or show enough PDA,” she said in a low tone.

“Hey,” you said softly as you planted your feet, causing her to stop as well and look at you. She held your gaze for a moment before looking away with an inaudible exhale.

“I don’t need you to change anything. I just got caught up in the joke. You’re not showy with your affection - I know that and I’m not bothered at all. I know you love me and you show me in ways that mean more to me than simply initiating some hand holding in public,” you finished with a light smirk. She looked unconvinced, so you carried on. “I mentioned that new restaurant and you booked a lunch for us there unprompted. You come shopping with me even though you despise it. You insist on holding my bags even though I’m perfectly capable. You show me you care in many ways and I love you for that.”

Jessie exhaled again but this time her body relaxed. You smiled and gave her a sweet kiss.

“And you don’t mind when I’m affectionate,” you said with a wink.

“I’d be stupid to turn away hugs and kisses from a girl as gorgeous as you,” she said, cracking a smirk.

“A girl who happens to be your girlfriend,” you teased. She gave you a wink.

“Lucky me.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #jflem #canwnt x reader #woso community #wlw fluff

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ophelisstuff · 9 months ago

Note

Paige bueckers × reader who loves books.

BOOKWORM | P.B X READER

authors note : i’ve been procrastinating on this big time srry if it’s not the best.

requested by : @paqerings

summery : Paige, someone who isn’t a fan of books finds herself tolerating all because of the person she’s fallen in love with.

word count : 808.

warnings : fluff that’s it

You and Paige had met at Uconn’s library on a rainy day. You being there to check out books for fun and Paige being there to find text books because she had no other choice.

A stack of books in your hand, you walked through the isles of bookshelves — looking for anything else that caught your eye. Unaware that the odd amount of books in your hand had caught Paige’s.

“Are you really going to read all those books?” The blonde questioned, disregarding the fact you were a complete stranger. Focused on finding out why there were so many books in your hand.

“Every last one” You replied, knowing that you wouldn’t be returning to the library until the pile of books in your hand were all completed.

“That’s impossible. no human is reading that many books.” Paige shrugged, finding it unbelievable that a person would optionally spend their time buried in a book.

The blonde just couldn’t understand it. What was it about books that grabbed everyones attention but hers?

Paige hated the idea of reading a book so much, she found herself on the brink of tears when having to study.

Even daring to pay classmates or bribe friends to complete reading assignments because she’d rather be out or playing basketball for fun.

“It’s definitely possible” You muttered, confusion building as you wondered why this familiar blonde was following you around all of a sudden.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know who she was. Everyone on campus knew of Paige Bueckers and admired her athletic talents.

However, you couldn’t get over the way she just talked your ear off and walked alongside you.

Disregarding any thought of you being a stranger and talking as if you two were the closest of friends. “Have you ever read a book?”

You asked, stopping in front of the mystery section — eyes drifting from book spine to book spine for something eye catching.

“No- well yes - duh. Just not a chapter book of any sort. It’s never been my thing so i’ve never tried to”

The blonde admitted, standing beside you — watching as you became fixated on the book titles.

“Well, find the right book and when you do, get back to me” You encouraged, sending the girl a short lived smile.

Picking up a final book as you headed to the front desk in order to check out.

Leaving the blonde with curiosity and confusion as she watched you walk away. Realizing she hadn’t even gotten a chance to introduce herself — let alone ask your name.

However, the blonde decided to take your advice and find a book that suited her — determined to impress you in the future.

present day —

“Can you hurry up! I wanna know what happens to Lucy Gray!”

Paige shouted, growing impatience as she sat on the couch — holding a copy of her The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes in her hands.

Finding herself obsessed with the Hunger Games book series — the blonde had managed to ‘read’ all three books from the series. And having you read the forth to complete it.

In all honesty, Paige still hadn’t read a full book on her own. Often times listening to the audio version of it or having you read a chapter to her daily.

The confusion for your love of books remained the same, however she’d grown to admire how fixated you were on them.

Growing use to how you always carried a book on you, reading whenever you could wherever you could.

Often times venturing to Barnes and Noble’s when you go book shopping. Her interest drifting to the lego sets while you walk the endless shelves of books.

“Give me a second! I’m finding a blanket”

You yelled back, picking up the throw blanket off of your girlfriends bed. Placing your reading glasses on your face as you walked down the hallway and to the living room.

“Finally! took you long enough” She muttered with a smile.

Throwing the blanket on Paige, you smiled laid beside her. The blondes head instantly becoming situated and comfortable on your shoulder.

“Oh whatever, hand me the book”

You joked, taking the story book out of her hand. Unaware of how a complete stranger who hated books turned into your girlfriend who tolerated certain ones.

You found solace in books, and being able to read them to your girlfriend — cuddled up on the couch brought you even more peace.

You nor Paige would trade this experience for anything else in the world. Often times expressing how you were both grateful for that interaction at the school’s library.

“Chapter eleven. Lucy Gray’s words stung but, on reflection, were well deserved.”

You began, Paige becoming silent as she listened to your soothing voice. Eager to hear the story being told.

#paige bueckers x reader #wlw #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #wlw x reader #paigebueckersheadcanons #paige x reader #paigebueckersfluff

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jetblack4realz · 1 month ago

Text

the gun girl - kayce dutton

summary - kayce has a thing with guns, you work at a gun store, it's the perfect love story

word count - 1.8k

tw - guns

again, short but sweet, and i'm obsessed with kayce dutton

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

"i'm looking for just a basic .22 remington," kayce said, leaning against the counter with his eyes on tate as he roamed the aisles of ammo. you stood from where you were organizing a few boxes of the stuff, smiling at you stood across from the stranger.

"right handed or left?" you asked, stepping back to glance at the stock behind you. he finally looked at you, staying silent for a few moments as he tried to remember what you'd asked - his eyes wide as he stared. he didn't remember bass pro having such attractive employees.

"right," he answered shortly, watching as you approached the .22 section.

"okay, well we've got a couple brownings in stock currently. they're a bit pricey, but if i'm being honest i prefer them to the rugers or weatherbys. what are you hunting?" you asked, fingers running over the butt of the guns on the wall as you looked to him again.

"elk," kayce said. "little man's coming with this time."

your eyes were drawn to the six year old that had come to his side, a small smile pulling at your lips as he grinned up at you. you leaned over the counter a bit to see him better.

"you excited, bud?" you asked. he nodded, leaning into his father's side more as he smiled at you.

"he said i should get a new gun to commemorate it," kayce said, earning a small laugh from you. you looked back up at him, raising your brows as a teasing smile settled on your lips.

"oh i'm sure he did," you said. "i'm sure he thinks the browning is the best pick for you too."

"well, i've got the weatherby and the ruger, so it's the last real option," he laughed. he ran a hand through the little boy's hair. "he doesn't like them either."

"i'll get it rang up for you two then," you told him, smiling still as you pulled the proper box from the wall. you moved to the till, scanning it in. "do you have a rewards number?"

"oh, uh, yeah," kayce said, giving it to you then.

"kayce dutton?" you asked, looking up with raised brows. he nodded and you returned to your typing. "i think we've met before. or at least, i've met your father. he was here when we opened the store."

"your family owns the store?" he asked.

"mhm," you hummed. "when i was fourteen. i've helped run it since."

"i haven't seen you here before," he said. you shrugged.

"how often are you buying new guns?" you asked, laughing lightly as you clicked the computer. "need any ammo or are you set?"

"i should be fine," he said with a nod.

"alright, just go ahead and swipe your card then," you told him, nodding at the pinpad. he did just that. "i'm y/n by the way. it's nice to meet you."

"kayce," he said, before realizing you already knew that with a furrow of his brow. he laughed awkwardly before gesturing down at his son. "this is tate."

"hi!" tate chirped with a wave. you laughed lightly, waving back at him.

"it's nice to meet you, tate," you told him. you passed kayce the box and ripped his receipt, handing that to tate. you smiled at the boy. "hide this from your mommy. i'm sure your daddy doesn't want her to know he bought another gun."

your tone was teasing and a flush rose to kayce's cheeks, but not because of it. he was quick to jut in. "oh, i'm not married or with anyone, so no worries there."

"oh," you said, sounding awfully surprised. somehow, this endeared you more to him - even though you already found him incredibly endearing. he was single - win! - but he was also a single dad who actually cared about his kid. your heart warmed as you smiled up at him. "well then, no one to worry about how much money you're spending on guns. sounds great."

"it has it's benefits," he agreed with a smile.

"well, i will see you two around the store, likely," you said, glancing between tate and his father as kayce stepped away. "good luck on your hunt."

"thanks, i'll let you know if we get anything," kayce said.

"looking forward to it," you replied with an easy smile. you waved at tate, your smile widening slightly. "bye tate."

"bye!"

kayce didn't look away from you until he had to turn around to head down the stairs to the main level of the store, and even then he glanced back as you returned your attention to the inventory behind you.

seriously, when did bass pro employees become so attractive?

it was only a week later that you ran into tate again, the little boy running up to you as you reorganized the men's huntingwear section.

"i know you!" he cheered as he approached, an older man following behind him as he eyed you curiously.

"oh, hi tate!" you laughed, bumping his knuckles with yours once he held his out. "how are you buddy? you guys get any elk last weekend?"

tate nodded eagerly. "a big one! dad got it from so far away!"

"600 yards," the older gentleman added, smiling down at his grandson. he looked back up at you. "you're y/n y/l/n, right? their oldest daughter?"

"yeah," you nodded, matching his smile. "it's nice to see you again, mr. dutton."

"last time i saw you, you were just a little girl," he hummed, a warm smile on his lips. "you're all grown now. you helping your dad?"

"every day," you affirmed. "he's getting older, so i've been helping him and my brothers get this place to a good state to pass along. devin's gonna take over here in the next few years."

"oh, is that right?" john asked gruffly, nodding slowly as he tried to recall your oldest brother.

"mhm," you nodded. you glanced down at tate again as he began messing with the beanies on the rack across from you. "i met your son last week, kayce."

"yeah, i heard," john nodded, his voice gruff as he looked to tate. "seemed to have caught the attention of both of those boys."

tate smiled up at you as he pulled a carharrt beanie over his head. you laughed, rubbing his head with a soft hand.

"may i ask what you mean by that, sir?" you wondered. he shrugged, looking around the store with an ill-disguised smile.

"nothing really," he said. he pulled the beanie off of tate's head as tate reached for it again, shaking his head. "you've already got three of these, buddy. let's put it back." he looked back up at you with a polite smile. "see you around, y/n."

you waved to tate as they walked off, returning to your work folding clothes with a small smile on your lips. you thought of kayce and wondered briefly what exactly his father had meant by what he said.

it was your final shift before the weekend and you were extremely bored. you were back at the gun desk, sitting on your little wooden stool as you scrolled your phone.

"you guys stock smith & wessons here?"

you looked up with wide eyes, standing quickly as you looked to whichever customer was asking about handguns on a random friday afternoon.

you let out a short laugh as your eyes landed on none other than kayce dutton, his hands on the glass case in front of you as a small smile pulled at his lips. you eyed his pretty cowboy outfit, his carharrt vest and wrangler jeans causing you to realize just how much your type he really was.

"i guess you do buy guns a lot," you hummed, leaning back against the counter behind you. "heard you got a nice buck last weekend."

"oh, you did now? from who?" he asked.

"your father," you answered. "he was here a few days ago with tate. said you caught it at 600 yards. that's pretty impressive."

he shifted his weight on his feet as he leaned against the gun case again, smiling. "yeah, i felt pretty good about it. you get anything yet this season?"

"i haven't gone out yet. got drawn for one over in section seven though," you said.

"that's over by my family's ranch," he told you. "i could show you a few good spots. i've gotten a fair few buck over there."

"i'd appreciate that. i ain't ever shot over there," you said, smiling softly at the man in front of you. a few moments of silence passed over the two of you before you glanced to the side at the racks of guns propped up. "so, you looking for a smith & wesson?"

"well," he said simply, shrugging as his smile grew a bit. "i actually came here for something else."

you raised a brow. "and what's that?"

"i was hoping a date," he said, an awkward yet hopeful smile on his smile as one corner of his lips raised. you eyed him, matching his smile slowly as you pushed off the counter, folding your arms over your chest.

"i think i can do that," you answered. he let out a breath of relief as his smile grew more full. "when are you thinking, cowboy?"

"tonight, at seven? the outlaw saloon? they've got some good food and 've got some music playing tonight," he answered.

"that sounds like fun," you said, stepping towards him as you stood across from the case. "i think i'm free tonight."

he grinned, leaning further towards you. "perfect. i'll pick you up."

"wouldn't expect anything different," you said with a soft smile. you pulled your phone from your pocket, holding it out to him. he took it, your fingers brushing as he did. "put your number in, text yourself, and i expect to see you at my door tonight."

he glanced up at you as he created a contact for himself and sent a text, his own phone buzzing in his pocket as he did so.

"i'll see you tonight," he said, tipping his hat as he stepped away after handing your phone back.

"see you tonight," you said, matching his smile before he finally turned and walked down the stairs, sparing a few glances your way as he walked through the doors and out to his truck.

you watched him all the way down, letting out a happy laugh before finally turning away, running a hand through your hair. you turned on your phone - three hours until you got off, five until kayce picked you up. you looked at the boxes of ammo and guns, deciding in that moment you needed to reorganize them.

"back to work," you hummed to yourself.

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

thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

#kayce dutton #kayce dutton x reader #kayce dutton x y/n #kayce dutton fanfic #kayce dutton imagine #luke grimes #luke grimes x reader #luke grimes x y/n #yellowstone #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone x reader #yellowstone fanfiction #yellowstone tv #beth dutton #rip wheeler #tate dutton #john dutton

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daydreamkissesxo · 4 months ago

Text

Father Charlie x reader | Sinner pt 4; Is this how it ends?

Warnings; manipulation, coercive behaviour, mentions of pregnancy and active labour, angst, mentions of abortion (no smut this time😢)

A/N; I really struggled for this part and I’m not entirely happy with it but it’ll do😂 part 5 is cominggg

Your sudden disappearance was the talk of the church each Sunday, every family theorising what could have possibly happened.

Your mother was distraught, inconsolable as she had no explanation as to where you were or whether you were even alive.

Father Charlie often comforted her after mass, cruelly lifting her spirits by claiming that you would one day return, though he knew otherwise.

Your family's persistent searching often left him anxious, that they'd somehow trace your disappearance back to him.

He'd thought of several different ways to resolve the issue, all exposing your pregnancy one way or another with the knowledge that your parents would disown you for it.

He'd thought of carefully planting a pregnancy test in one of your coat pockets after conveniently visiting your family home to console your mother, hoping she'd find it as she rummaged for clues as to your whereabouts.

He'd even considered paying one of the local homeless men to falsely inform your mother that he'd seen you leaving town with a blossoming baby bump, but that seemed to be one of the riskier options, he knew he'd be setting himself up for blackmail.

You were completely oblivious to the state your family were in, confined to the four walls of Father Charlie's home as he claimed it would be impossible for you to leave it without being noticed now that half of the town knew you were missing.

His intentions were far from pure, he disguised his reasons for keeping you a prisoner in his home as concern for the abandonment you'd inevitably receive from your family if they discovered the truth.

He'd carefully manipulated you into believing that he had done nothing wrong, that he acted on the lust you inflicted upon him and that any consequences were only yours to suffer.

You were disconnected from the outside world as he'd even taken away your phone, claiming that you were easy to trace as long as you were in possession of it.

Each day that passed was another that he'd paralysed your mind, ridding you of your independence unconsciously so that you were solely reliant on him for even the most basic human care.

He had a strong desire to control every aspect of your life, carefully planting small seeds of doubt in your mind that you were incapable of making your own decisions and taking proper care of yourself.

He provided you with a home, the clothes that you wore, the food that you ate and the comfort most people long for, it made him feel so unbelievably powerful.

He'd carefully prepared every meal you'd eat, insisting that he knew best where nutritional value was concerned due to his previous work as a personal trainer, yet his intention was to ensure you never ate unless he provided it, much like a dependant child.

The only time he'd leave your side was to fulfil his duties at the church and even then he wondered if that were too long, he couldn't risk leaving your mind unoccupied.

Despite his extreme measures you'd never once thought of yourself as a prisoner, he appeared so attentive and caring that you believed it was just in his nature, not part of his carefully crafted plot to manipulate the woman he'd purposely impregnated so she could never exist without him.

You couldn't help but feel like a house pet, always perched on the sofa or beside him in bed with no real purpose other than incubating his unborn child.

Father Charlie had managed to convince you not to see anyone of the medical profession during your pregnancy, claiming that once you'd stepped foot over the threshold of a hospital that they'd inform your family immediately.

Being so fearful of their disappointment, you agreed that a doctor he had known previous to becoming a priest could regularly check you over.

Violent nausea woke you from your slumber each morning, you'd spend the majority of your day hunched over the toilet bowl and for that father Charlie was pleased, while you were in that state you were incapable of even attempting to leave which bought him more time to work his manipulative ways.

While he was sympathetic to your sickness, he strongly felt it was the perfect punishment for trying to end your pregnancy, though he never told you that.

He hadn't totally forgiven you for your actions but he wasn't a complete monster, he knelt beside you to hold your hair back when he could.

In an ideal world, the two of you would have been married and equally excited for the arrival of your child, but the conception date made it difficult for him to find a way to leave his position at the church without exposing his sexual relationship with you during his time there.

It was at dinner one night that he'd noticed how withdrawn you'd become, assuming it was due to the toll early pregnancy was having on your body but the sound of stifled sobs caused him to stiffen.

He'd immediately placed the dinner plates onto the table, rushing to your side to kneel beside the chair where you sat.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked softly, lifting one of his hands to gently cup your cheek and wipe away your tears, caressing your soft skin with his thumb.

"I..miss my family.." you whispered quietly, your gaze thankfully adverted as Father Charlie clenched his jaw in growing frustration for the reason of your sudden sadness.

"I know you do. But think about it..your family think you've run away. You can't just suddenly show up pregnant, with no husband in sight." He attempted to sound reasonable and sympathetic, as if his sole purpose of keeping you within the four walls of his home was for your own good and not his.

"You're not the reincarnation of Mary, somebody put that baby inside of you and they'll want to know who."

You flinched at his words, perhaps he didn't mean to be so crass but the thought of you exposing him as the father of your child made him anxious.

Hurt by his words, you attempted to turn your head away but his hand nudged at your cheek to force your head back towards him.

"This goes beyond you, sweetheart. What about me? How can I support you if I lose my position? We'll lose this house, I'll lose the support of the community."

He intended to scare you into thinking the two of you could never survive if he were to lose his priesthood, that the luxury that came with the role was the only acceptable choice for your new family.

He knew you'd feel guilty enough at the thought of him losing everything he'd ever worked for to not raise the issue again, but it didn't stop you from feeling disappointed.

He placed one of his palms against your barely noticeable bump, a prideful smile replacing the scowl he wore a moment before.

"This is what happens, sweet girl. You move on, and you start your own family..you leave those you love behind to make space in your heart for new." He said in a soft yet condescending tone, attempting to sever the ties between you and your family completely.

You lowered your gaze as you allowed his words to soak in, unknowingly ingesting the poison that would slowly rid you of your clarity.

His infectious smile caused you to smile back, and for the first time during your pregnancy, you felt hopeful for the future the two of you would share.

Your second trimester brought its own challenges, your breasts were notably larger and constantly sore, and you were almost always in discomfort as the skin of your abdomen stretched to accommodate your growing bundle of joy.

Most days were spent perched in the same spot on the living room couch, no longer able to read nor watch the television as the outside world was all that seemed to occupy your mind.

Each time father Charlie left for mass you'd spend your hour of isolated silence staring out of the window into the front garden, watching as spring finally swept away the darkness of winter.

Once naked tree branches were now beautifully decorated with blossoming flower buds, sparsely planted flowers blooming from the ground while nature began to emerge from its hibernation.

Butterflies were a rare sighting so you were always pleased when one did appear, you thought you'd struck gold as two suddenly appeared to drift past and settle on the window ledge.

You leant closer to the window in fascination, A beautiful white butterfly trapped beneath a black and red patterned one.

It was oddly symbolic, the darkness holding the pure and innocent captive, much like how Father Charlie held you.

The sudden sound of a closing door forced you to jump, your hand falling to your rounded belly to clutch it as you glanced over your shoulder, your gaze meeting Father Charlie's.

He stood frozen in the doorway as he took a moment to admire the sight before him, how beautiful you looked as you sit and wait for him to return, the natural light reflecting against your skin to create a radiant glow.

"There's my girl." He murmured as he walked over to take a seat beside you, excitedly placing a hand on either side of your pregnant belly.

"Not much longer and I can finally come home to two beautiful girls." He chuckled, lowering his head to press a soft peck to the top of your baby bump.

"We don't know if we're having a girl." You replied, quietly giggling as you found his assumption of the gender amusing seeing as he was so adamant.

"Oh she's definitely a girl." He argued, lifting his head to look up at you before leaning in to place a delicate kiss to your lips, silencing you from correcting him once more.

He'd pulled away before you even had chance to reciprocate, your lips left parted as your eyes met once more.

"How have you been feeling? I thought perhaps we could take a walk around the church grounds later, get some fresh air?" He offered, a reward for your compliance now that he was confident you'd never run.

Later, meaning after it had gotten dark as he certainly couldn't allow anyone to see you now you were very visibly pregnant.

He watched as your eyes lit up with excitement at such a small offering of freedom and it left him nervous, mentally questioning how you'd act if he ever accidentally left the door unlocked.

"Great. But first, I've got some ideas about the nursery I'd like to run by you." He added, his hand falling from your bump to his pocket to retrieve his phone.

He lifted it slightly as he swiped through his apps in search of the photo one, clicking on it to then scroll upwards in search of the screenshots he'd taken from various shopping sites for inspiration.

"I was thinking neutral? Seeing as you're not going to let me paint it pink." He teased, smiling as he held the phone up just enough for you to see the inspiration photos he had.

It was later that evening that he'd taken you to the church grounds as promised, aware that gentle exercise is essential for expectant mothers and would aid the correct positioning of the baby as your due date drew closer.

He kept a slow pace as he walked beside you, acknowledging that due to the pressure bearing down on your pelvis it was uncomfortable to walk any faster.

Despite the discomfort, the walk was more than pleasing as you'd finally got to feel the fresh spring breeze brush past your skin while taking in a view far more pleasant than the same four walls of his home.

The church held many memories for you, most fond while some were unpleasant, such as your scuffle with Father Charlie.

You'd often dreamed of marrying at such a beautiful place, though now the thought of marriage was no longer as your relationship with Father Charlie would be frowned upon by most.

He'd often wondered whether you missed the church, the beautiful hymns you knew every word of and the scriptures you'd followed so closely until his corruption of you.

"Do you miss being here?" He asked sincerely after noticing the longing in your eyes as you take in the view, for once not taking the opportunity to taunt you.

You nodded simply in response, reminiscent of the Sundays you'd spent sat amongst your family as you looked for guidance from the Lord, when your feelings for Father Charlie were nothing more than your best kept secret.

"I do. I wish I'd have had some self restraint, things may have been different.."

Father Charlie grew stiff at your confession, your words of regret made him feel both uncomfortable and somewhat sad.

"But I'm not regretful. What good is regret? Everyone's path in life is different, and if it's God's will..I will gladly accept the path chosen for me." You softly add, turning your attention towards him as you smile warmly.

Somehow he'd felt even more sad, God's will never played a part in your fate, it was his decisions that led you down the path you now walked.

The warmth of your smile filled him with nothing more than shame, more shame than he'd inflicted upon you for attempting to better your future by aborting the living evidence of your sexual relationship, he understood in that very moment why you'd considered it.

You gently took hold of his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as a way of showing that the two of you would walk your ill fated path together.

"God will forgive us for our sins, and I hope you will forgive me for the selfish decision I almost made.." You timidly said, his reaction to the abortion you almost endured still ingrained on your mind.

Father Charlie could only respond with a smile, truly stunned by your sudden remorse and compliance, it was deeply unnerving.

Father Charlie never truly recovered from that day, he'd become even more nervy and on edge, waiting for you to one day take your revenge instead of now appreciating the compliance he'd always sought from you.

It was several weeks until your supposed due date and you could barely tell the difference between every day pain and possible contractions.

The pain prevented you from sleeping at night, every time you'd settle another sharp pain in your lower abdomen would disturb you, leaving you exhausted and desperate for your pregnancy to be over with.

Father Charlie felt your accidental nudges throughout the night as you stirred, always waking from his own slumber to ask whether you were okay.

He was reluctant to leave for mass one morning but you insisted he should, convinced that the pain was nothing more than those practise contractions you'd read so much about, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

The pain became drastically worse and had you still been in possession of your phone, you'd have called the first contact you could to come and help.

The intense pain lasted for just a few seconds every couple of minutes, it was a pain you could only describe as a tightening squeeze across your lower abdomen.

Father Charlie had returned from mass to find you slumped against the wall in the hallway with your knees slightly bent up towards your chest, your hand desperately shaking as you clutched at your belly while your body writhed in pain.

His eyes widening in panic as dropped his briefcase in desperate hurry, rushing to your side faster than his mind could even comprehend before falling to his knees beside you.

Your skin was visibly clammy while your face was scrunched in clear discomfort, your purposeful drawn out breathes interrupted as loud pain filled sobs erupt from your lips when another contraction reached its peak.

Father Charlie was visibly panicked, untrained and certainly not educated enough to deliver a baby but there was hardly any time to wait for his doctor friend.

"Baby? Baby, tell me how far apart the contractions are?" He asked, attempting to sound confident while completely overcome with nerves, raising a hand to softly stroke your hair in an attempt to comfort you.

"I, I don't know!" You choke out, arching your back from against the wall as the pain rippled through your abdomen uncomfortably.

Unbeknownst to father Charlie, your mother had followed him home in hope of seeking the comfort he'd often provided her in regard to your disappearance.

Though he could hardly hear a thing over your agonised sobbing, a loud knock at the door followed by a familiar voice caused him to freeze in absolute panic.

"Father Charlie, are you there?" She called out, and the sound of your mother's comforting voice was everything you'd wished to hear as your body fought to bring new life into the world.

Father Charlie glanced over his shoulder at the door, his breath audibly trembling as he believed the two of you would inevitably be caught.

He felt your body tense beside him, confident that a contraction was impending, and as you began to let out a violent sob his hand came to harshly cover your mouth to muffle it.

It felt sickeningly cruel to touch you this way knowing the intense pain that rushed throughout your body, but he just needed to let your mother leave before attending to your greatly immense suffering and the delivery of his beautiful baby.

Taglist; @targaryenswhxre @dckweed @psychocitylights @yoongling 💖💖

#father charlie #grotesquerie #nicholas alexander chavez #x y/n

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sslovqm · 29 days ago

Text

NO ESCAPE — rafe cameron

WARNING : This story contains depictions of emotional harassment, physical and psychological violence, manipulation, explicit threats, obsessive behavior, and a scene involving physical danger and confinement. Reader discretion is advised.

The clock read 10:47 p.m., and the restaurant was deserted. Only the low hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic sound of the broom as Y/N swept across the floor could be heard. The dim lights in the restaurant reflected her tiredness; it had been a long day, but for her, it was worth it. Working gave her a sense of independence that few understood, especially the Kooks.

She had spent months avoiding everything related to Rafe Cameron. After their breakup, he hadn’t stopped looking for her, insisting on talking to her, but Y/N refused. Her heart still bore the scars of their relationship, and the last thing she needed was for him to show up again.

When she heard the jingle of the bell on the door, she thought that perhaps some clueless customer had walked in. However, when she looked up, her body tensed at the sight of Topper Thornton entering with that mocking smile he always wore.

“Topper?” What are you doing here?” he asked, frowning as he set the broom aside.

“Well, well…” Topper drawled as he looked around in disdain. “So it’s true? Y/N, Rafe Cameron’s ex-girlfriend, working like a pogue.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes tiredly. She had no energy for his comments.

“Because of people with such a withdrawn mentality, the world is the way it is, Topper,” she replied indifferently, turning her back and returning to her task.

Topper let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, crossing his arms.

“And how do you think Rafe would react if he knew his precious Y/N was working here, staying up late by herself?” he asked in a mocking tone, enjoying every word.

Y/N dropped the broom, quickly turning to him. Her face was pale, and her eyes showed genuine fear.

“Topper, please don’t say anything. Really…” she pleaded, feeling a knot in her stomach.

He shrugged, smirking.

“Too late.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat when the restaurant door opened again, and there he was: Rafe Cameron, with that smile she knew so well, a mix of mockery and possessiveness. His blue gaze caught her like it always did, but this time she didn’t feel love, only fear.

“What, honey?” Rafe said in a soft but venomous voice. “You didn’t think you could escape me, did you?”

Topper walked past him, patting him on the shoulder before leaving.

“Have a good time, buddy.” And he walked out, leaving Y/N alone with Rafe.

“Topper, don’t go!” she yelled, but the door closed behind him.

Before she could move, she heard the door lock click. Rafe had closed it.

“Rafe, I…” she began, taking a step back.

“Shh,” he interrupted her, slowly approaching. “I’ve been patient, you know? I gave you space. But now, sweetheart, there are no more games.”

Y/N felt the air grow thicker. She was trapped, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know how to get out.

“Rafe, please let me go. This doesn’t have to be like this…” she whispered, trying to calm him, though her voice was shaking.

He stopped in front of her, leaning down a little to look her straight in the eyes.

“Let you go?” he repeated, with a crooked smile. “That was never an option, Y/N. It never will be.”

She gulped, knowing that tonight would change everything.

Y/N backed away slowly, trying to stay calm as her eyes desperately searched for something she could use as a defense. The restaurant seemed like a small, cramped place suddenly, every corner a trap.

“What do you want, Rafe?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Y/N. But you decided you could just walk away, didn’t you? Like everything we had was… optional.” His tone was getting deeper, and his eyes were shining with a dangerous mix of obsession and anger.

Rafe took a step closer to her, forcing her back until her back hit the counter. Y/N flinched, her hands shaking as she tried to keep her composure.

“You can’t keep going like this, Rafe. This isn’t right. You need help, someone who—”

“I don’t need help!” he shouted, slamming a closed fist on the counter, causing her to jump slightly. Her face was flushed, and the tension in her jaw made it obvious she was struggling to control her emotions.

Y/N tried to move to the side, but Rafe quickly blocked her, cornering her against the counter. His breathing was heavy, and the air was thick with an implicit threat that made it impossible for her to think clearly.

“All of this…” he said, pointing her up and down. “This pathetic job, these lonely nights. Did you really think you could just walk away from me, live like a pogue, and I would just let you go?”

She couldn’t stop the tears from building up in her eyes, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him. She straightened her back and looked at him bravely.

“I’d rather do this than be with you, Rafe. I’d rather do anything than be with you again.”

Her words seemed to break something inside him. Her mocking smile disappeared, replaced by an expression of pure rage. Before she could react, Rafe grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her towards him.

“Don’t talk about me like that, Y/N. I gave you everything. Everything. And you repay me like this.”

“Leave me, Rafe!” she screamed, struggling against his grip, but he was too strong.

Rafe pushed her against the counter harder, his face dangerously close to hers.

“I warned you not to play with me, didn’t I?” he said, his voice low but laced with anger. With his other hand, he slid a lock of hair from her face, a gesture that should have been affectionate, but now felt cold and calculated.

Y/N felt the tears begin to fall, and her fear grew as he pushed her to the ground, pinning her down.

“Rafe, please, this doesn’t have to be like this. Please…” she pleaded, her voice cracking.

But Rafe didn’t seem to be listening. He was lost in his own madness, his eyes shining with an intensity that terrified her.

“If you can’t be mine, Y/N, then you won’t be anyone’s.”

She struggled with all her might, clawing, kicking, screaming, hoping someone would listen. She managed to reach him with a punch to the face, giving him a few seconds to break free and run to the door.

But the lock was still on.

Before she could remove it, she felt Rafe grab her again, throwing her to the ground hard. Her head hit the floor, and the world began to spin as he leaned over her, his breathing erratic and his gaze completely unhinged.

“You can’t escape me, Y/N. You never will.”

At that moment, the lights of a car briefly illuminated the interior of the restaurant, and the headlights stopped right in front of the door. The sound of someone getting out of the vehicle made Rafe pause for a moment, his gaze shifting to the window.

Y/N, though stunned, took advantage of the distraction to scream at the top of her lungs.

“Help! Please, someone, help me!”

The door shook from outside, and a familiar voice called out her name. It was JJ, accompanied by Kie.

“Rafe, get away from her!” JJ screamed, slamming the door hard.

For an instant, Y/N saw the doubt on Rafe’s face, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“This isn’t over, Y/N,” he whispered with a crooked smile, letting go just before running to the back of the restaurant.

When JJ and Kie finally entered, they found Y/N on the floor, shaking and with tears in her eyes. JJ quickly knelt down beside her, wrapping her in a protective hug.

“It’s over, Y/N. You’re safe now.”

But she knew that wasn’t true. As she felt JJ’s arms around her, she couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe’s last words.

“This isn’t over.”

#obx smut #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks imagine #obx fanfiction #possessive #toxic relationship #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe x reader

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laurfilijames · 4 months ago

Text

Breathe

Part 11

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption and smoking. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Will does something he never thought he would again, and after someone from his recent past seeks him out, things fall into place and call for celebration.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter and I'm feeling so bittersweet about it!! I can't believe how this world has unfolded and all the enthusiasm it's received, so a big thank you to everyone who has stuck with it and shared in my love for it! 💗 @whatever-lmaoo I hope you enjoy your scene! 🌌

Series Masterlist

The modest diamond was brighter than anything considering its size compared to some of the others, shining with impossible brilliance on its thin, yellow gold band as Will held the dainty ring between his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he nodded, looking up at the jeweler who had been showing him engagement rings for the past hour.

It was the first one Will noticed when he started eyeing the vast and overwhelming array of rings, able to picture it clearly on your hand, but was persuaded by the salesman to continue exploring other options and not settle for the one that caught his attention first despite knowing in his heart that it was perfect. The rest of them were too large or flashy, some of the settings too elaborate and downright outrageous in cost, and Will knew something humble and simple would be the perfect token to help symbolize your love even though both of you felt no need to conform to any of the traditional ways that people were convinced validated a relationship.

“It’s a lovely choice, Sir,” he confirmed. “She’ll love it.”

Will blew out a breath to try to calm himself, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement, hardly able to believe he was doing something he never thought he would do again in his life.

He had just finished paying for half of it and set up the payments for the rest when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and answered it while waiting for the jeweler to return with the ring secured in its little box.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Where are you, man? You’re late. You’re never late,” Benny quizzed from the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Something took a little longer than I thought, I’ll be right over.”

“What the hell are you doing that’s more important than helping me train?”

Will laughed. “You’ll see, just get started without me, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hung up and thanked the jeweler for his help when he returned with the ring that Will couldn’t wait to put on your finger, making his way out of the store and over to the gym with a smile that couldn’t be wiped from his face.

“That was longer than ten minutes!” Benny called from the cage, his gloved hands raising up as he spoke.

“Dude, I’m sorry!” Will laughed, unable to shake this good mood despite his brother being annoyed by his tardiness.

“Why are you so happy? What were you doing? Actually, do I want to know that?”

Will chuckled again as he stepped into the cage, fishing the tiny box out of the pocket of his jeans.

“No, I will not marry you,” Benny joked as Will opened the box and presented it to him, both brothers erupting with laughter before embracing each other in a hug.

“That’s awesome, man, I’m really happy for you,” the younger Miller spoke, patting Will on the back while still in his grasp with his padded fists.

“Thanks, bro,” Will smiled sheepishly, looking at the ring one more time before closing the box and stowing it back safely in his pocket.

“Do you know when you’re gonna do it?”

Will sighed and shook his head, his eyebrows raised. “Whenever it feels right, I guess. I don’t really have a plan,” he admitted.

“You always have a plan.”

“I did until her,” he smiled, thinking of how much his life and the ways he went about things had changed since he met you. You had disrupted his life in the best way, taking the strict order of how he lived and the walls he built up for protection and dismantled it all, your love bringing him a freedom that wasn’t chaotic or terrifying. The way you turned his world upside down had actually put it the right way up, making him realize that all the things he thought he was doing right were actually wrong, your presence in his life healing wounds he never thought could be mended.

“Well however you do it, she’s gonna say yes and it’ll be perfect for you both,” Benny assured him. “It definitely won’t be like the first time!”

“Fuck no,” Will agreed, wishing he could erase his previous engagement to his ex, having been given ultimatums if he didn’t propose, the cost of the hideous ring she wanted so badly putting him in more debt than he could handle.

“Okay, can I punch you now?” Benny asked, bringing Will out of his past with a laugh, ducking as he threw a loose hit at his face.

The sun was beaming down hard on the back of Will’s neck as he walked through the front yard back and forth in neat rows, the loud buzz of the lawnmower drowned out by the music playing in his headphones.

With the weather being so nice and it being a Sunday, tons of people were out on the street; families walking with their young kids and dogs to the park, and a few older couples passing by the house hand in hand who gave Will a nod and smile as they strolled.

He was attentive to everything, already knowing what cars each neighbour drove and fairly in-tune with the consistency in their schedules, so when an unfamiliar car pulled up and parked in front of the house, it made Will pause and watch to see who it was.

An average looking woman stepped out, glancing at the house number before continuing to walk up the sidewalk to the driveway, and Will plucked his headphones out of his ears and shut off the lawnmower as he stared at her curiously.

She looked almost nervous, and in her hands she held a round dish, but when she gave him a sweet smile, Will couldn’t help but return it.

“Can I help you?” he asked, squinting in the sunlight.

“I sure hope so!” she exclaimed, her voice suiting her demeanour.

She stopped when she was a few steps away from Will, her arms moving as she spoke that told Will her hands would be flying about if she didn’t have something in them.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but your brother told me I would find you here.”

Will tilted his head slightly as he listened, leaning more onto the handle of the mower that he still held onto with one hand.

“At least I’m hoping you’re his brother!” she giggled, but Will remained quiet so she could continue explaining who she was and what she wanted. “You’re Will Miller?”

He nodded. “That’s me.”

“You’re a hard man to track down!” she blurted, her relief clear in her words.

Will smiled but still looked at her with confusion, prompting her to scold herself.

“Oh, listen to me! You poor man standing here as I’m going on and on and I haven’t even told you who I am!” She cradled the dish in one arm and extended her right hand out to him. “My name is Patsy, and my husband is whose life you saved last week.”

Will was taken aback as he took her hand and shook it, being surprised at her introduction an understatement.

“Wow, hi. It’s nice to meet you, Patsy,” he greeted.

“I really hope I’m not overstepping, but I just wanted to thank you. I went to the store and spoke with the manager who told me who you were…”

When she trailed off, Will knew why, nodding as he understood that the manager had explained to her both incidents that made Will's name a memorable one at Publix.

“So I looked you up but the last address listed was old and other people live there now…”

Will nodded again, knowing it was the house he had lived in with his ex, a sigh blowing past his lips.

“But then I saw there was another Miller listed and I got a hold of him, and oh your brother is just such a dear and he gave me this address. He told me you wouldn’t mind me stopping by and–”

“I don’t mind at all, Patsy, this is nice,” Will assured her, seeing her eyes light up. “How’s your husband doing?”

“Ron,” she started, and Will was happy to finally learn his name. “He’s recovering well and back home already.”

“That’s great!”

“It was our anniversary that day. Thirty-nine years now!” she explained, her eyes appearing wet. “He went to pick up a few things to make us a special dinner for it…to think he almost didn’t come back home…” Patsy said quietly, blinking quickly. “But thanks to you, we’ll hopefully be on our way to forty and more!”

“Wow, congratulations!” Will offered, genuinely, watching her wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Thank you, dear. We are both so grateful to you and we just don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

Will shook his head. “It’s what anyone would’ve done. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

“Well, I’ve made you this pie. I don’t even know if you like pie…” she muttered under her breath, meeting his eyes again as she extended her arms to hold the dessert out for him. “It’s apple. Just give it a warm in the oven and it’s all set for you to enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Will beamed. “I’ve never been able to say no to pie and apple is my favourite.” He patted his stomach to assure her he loved to eat and she laughed, her kindness and warmth contagious.

“Is there someone you can share it with?” she asked, her question non-accusing or prying.

“Yeah, there is,” he confirmed, happily, any thought that went to you bringing out a bigger smile on his face.

“Oh, good. A sweet soul like yours deserves to be shared. Plus, you’re too damn handsome not to have someone!” She giggled at her own admission and clapped her hand on his forearm, patting it a couple of times before stepping away in the direction of her car.

“Thank you again, Will. You’re a good man.”

Will smirked and glanced at his shoes before meeting her eyes again, giving her one last smile and wave goodbye before turning to bring the pie inside the house.

Will still didn’t have a plan as to when he was going to pop the question, but it was even more on his mind now after his conversation with Patsy, realizing more than ever how precious life and love were, and he wanted to marry you on the spot if it was possible.

The rest of your Sunday had been blissful; cooking dinner together that was followed by two huge slices of the best apple pie both of you had ever tasted, and now your night was wrapping up in the best way you knew how with your naked bodies entangled after falling into bed straight from the shower.

Will hummed as he trailed his face up the side of your waist, his nose dragging along your soft skin that was still dotted with drops of water, the scent of your soap and the dampness clinging to you intoxicating him.

You moved to lay on your back, sighing out a pleasured noise as he continued to explore your bare torso with his lips, ghosting them over your stomach and hips, your hands smoothing over his upper back and through his wet hair.

He hummed again against your skin, the vibrations off his lips rumbling through so that it almost tickled, making you squirm beneath him.

With a slight chuckle, he grabbed your waist and pulled you with him as he rolled onto his back, guiding you to mount him where you looked down at him with a sweet smile, your hands splaying out on his chest.

“I wanna see you, sweetheart,” he purred, his eyes full of love and desire in the faint light from the lamp on your nightstand.

Your smile grew, the warmth from his adoration spreading through you like it was transferring from your fingertips that were connected to his chest and into every vein until it had you buzzing, his love for you always making you beam.

Water from your hair dripped down your shoulders and chest, the trails of it enhancing the curves of your breasts and valleys along your collarbones, catching Will’s eye as he watched you in awe.

You smoothed your hands from his pecs over to his arms, lacing your fingers with his as you leaned down to kiss him, your hands held securely together to support your forward motion, the water that fell from your saturated hair dropping onto his body where it peppered his clean, porcelain skin.

You breathed him in, your tongues beginning to tangle together as you settled on his groin, teasing yourself on his rigid cock that rested against your core.

A sharp inhale filled your lungs when his tip breached your entrance, filling just an inch of you with his leaking head yet still stretching your tight hole.

You rolled your hips forward, bringing him back out of you, only to have him angle his own when you seated yourself back on him again, pressing inside you a little deeper this time.

When you lifted off of him again, Will abandoned his connection with your hands and landed them on your upper thighs just below your hips, forcing you down on his length as he fully penetrated you with a growl that resounded in your mouth.

Your hands fell onto his head, raking through his hair as you deepened your kiss, grinding on his cock that slid in and out of you with your languid rhythm.

Will removed one of his hands off your waist and placed it on your cheek, gripping the side of your face with a demand that made your head spin as his need poured through his mouth, his kiss filling you with an equal want for more.

You broke away from his lips, your desire to ride him overpowering that to keep kissing him, moving your body against his faster, his flaxen hairs creating a mind-numbing friction on your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his body tensing under yours as he took pleasure from your own. “Use me however you need.”

The roughness of his voice almost made you shiver, his offer to take whatever you needed from him to feel as good as possible making a cool heat shoot down your spine, and you sat up straighter, driving down hard against him while providing him a view of your body, his hands cupping your tits and plucking at your peaked nipples.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he praised, his words making you tip your head back and increase your pace, hearing him grunt and moan with how good you were making him feel turning you on even more.

“Mmm, Will, I’m close,” you warned, your breathing ragged and your caution a whine.

“Come on, I want to feel you come on me.”

Your eyes were closed tightly as you focused on chasing down your high, and Will found it impossible for you to look more stunning now than you always did, your parted lips spilling moans while your body rocked and bounced on his.

“I want you– fuck! – I want you to cum in me, Will!”

“Yeah? I’m right there too, baby,” he growled, bucking up into you to prove it as he gave up on trying to hold back.

“God, I love you,” he called, completely enamoured by you.

“I love you too, Will,” you answered, your nails digging into his chest, feeling yourself start to come apart on his thick cock.

Will felt overcome by every emotion, and the thought of putting a ring on your finger sent him through the roof, pulsing hot ropes into you the moment he felt you start to clench around him.

He kept his eyes open to see you experience your orgasm despite wanting to close his own from how amazing it all felt, desperate to watch you fall into bliss and never able to get over the fact that he was the one buried inside you while you did.

Your fingertips gripped in the flesh on his heaving chest as you settled from your high, your eyes opening to meet with his, but you continued to rock your hips against his groin as you selfishly indulged in his warm, thick cum lubricating your tingling walls, and suddenly you were thrown into another climax.

Will held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to stay on his cock and take what you needed from him despite him having finished already, watching you with complete captivation as you quaked and jolted uncontrollably on top of him.

“Good girl,” he grunted, panting out his breath as he tried to hang on for you.

Your broken wails filled the air, combining with the addicting sound of the mix of wet between your legs, and fully exhausted from pleasure, you collapsed forward onto him in a heap, your breath hot on the sweaty skin on his neck.

Will stroked your hair and back, soothing you as you came back to reality while he remained on cloud nine, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

You whined against his neck as he slipped out of you, and he continued to caress you and keep you close to him, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hey, you’re alright, sweetheart. You did so well.”

His hand cradled the side of your face when you uprighted yourself, stroking his thumb on your dewy cheek, his smile soft as he took in your almost delirious look.

“Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up?” he offered, reluctantly letting you go as you nodded in agreement and removed yourself from straddling his lap.

Will laid there for a minute, watching you retreat into the ensuite bathroom before quietly moving off the bed to reach for his jeans, checking over his shoulder to be sure you hadn’t come back in yet as he grabbed the small box from his pocket and plucked out the dainty ring.

He closed it in his hand as he settled back into the sheets, his breath shaky as he stared up at the ceiling and tried his best not to smile too big.

You came back in and climbed into the bed with a bright smile that made his heart scream in his chest and met it with the broadest one of his own, relieved he didn’t have to try to disguise it now.

“Hmm, that was incredible, baby,” you praised, your words coming off your tongue like you were still reliving every moment of it, hovering over him before leaning down to kiss his lips.

He moaned into your mouth, his hand that wasn’t secured around the secret token he held rubbing up along your back, pulling you closer to him as he deepened your kiss and felt you melt into him.

You let your body lay completely on his, your tongues tangling together as if you were making up for the lack of kisses when you had rode him, and the small yelp you gave when he flipped you over onto your back and covered you with his weight was absorbed into his mouth that stayed locked on yours.

A deep breath filled his lungs and transferred into yours, inhaling your scent and everything about you as he nudged your left arm that was wrapped around his neck with his, gently forcing it onto the mattress where he trailed the back of his closed fist up the inside of your arm until he reached your palm.

Your fingers were extended and relaxed, toying with the sheets as your focus remained on your kiss, and carefully, Will adjusted his fingers until he had a grip on the band and slowly slipped it onto your ring finger.

He could feel your features move against his face as you tried to work out what was happening, and finally letting your lips part from each other, Will looked down at you to watch your reaction as you moved your hand that was still held in his into your view.

A shuddered breath escaped your parted lips and your eyes glistened with tears, and Will’s heart felt like it was either going to stop or jump right out of his chest when you looked from the sparkling ring on your trembling hand over to him, and somehow, he found his words.

“I want you to be my wife,” he spoke carefully and purposefully, his eyes locked on yours.

Your expression turned serious, and Will could see your pulse hammering violently in the side of your neck and swore he could hear your heart thumping like mad.

“You do?” you breathed, your fingers dancing with his, accentuating the feeling of the foreign piece encircling your skin.

“I do.”

Those two words made the corner of his mouth turn up in an astonished smile as the realization of actually saying it to each other one day soon hit him; what had seemed unimaginable that you could be his forever suddenly plausible and more real than anything.

In his next breath, he steadied his emotions, readying himself to legitimize the moment by officially asking the question he had rehearsed in his head over and over, his fingers closing between yours where he held your hand tightly.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded quickly, tears springing from your eyes furiously as a sob that mixed with a laugh blew past your lips.

“Yes, Will!”

He squeezed your hand three times and crashed against your lips as you returned the silent gesture, feeling the most incredible sense of relief and peace flowing through him, the love he had for you incomparable to anything else that existed and something he would spend the rest of his life proving to you.

Within two days you and Will had decided exactly what you wanted for your wedding day, and without wasting any more time in knowing that you wanted to be made husband and wife as soon as you could, you were hosting an engagement party in your backyard to celebrate with friends and family before the set day that was now less than a week away.

“I still can’t believe I’m not invited,” Benny scoffed, his blatant disapproval for your decision to elope making Will laugh and shake his head.

“Sorry, man. It’s not like you’re the only one who won’t be there. We just want something quiet,” Will explained for the third time to his brother.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he said with attitude before taking a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re doing this,” Will offered, motioning to the party happening around them.

“Yeah, I’m sincerely shocked you didn’t just up and leave without a word to anyone,” he said pointedly. “Selfish prick,” he added under his breath, earning him a hard shove on the shoulder.

“Fuck off, man,” Will laughed. “Maybe you’ll understand it one day.” He motioned over to where Jess was standing talking to you and the other girls, hoping that Benny had found his forever just like he had.

“No way. We will have everyone we love there. Hundreds of people. Maybe even our kids!”

Will raised his brows in surprise. “Is that so?”

“Damn right,” Benny confirmed, staring at Jess with a look in his eyes that explained everything anyone would ever need to know about their blooming relationship. “I want her to have my babies right away.”

“Well I’m looking forward to being an uncle very much,” Will grinned, draping his arm over Benny’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Well, boys, it wouldn’t be a proper celebration without some cigars, now would it?” Santiago announced after walking over to them, lifting the lid open on a box that contained what Will knew had to be some pricey cigars.

“Frank! Tom, get over here!” he called, handing each of his Delta Force brothers one.

“We gotta get a picture of this!” Tom exclaimed in a loud muffle as he already had his stuck between his teeth, wrapping his arms around both Millers that he wedged himself between.

Molly was right there and ready with her phone to snap a photo, the five of them standing with their arms around each other with their lit cigars hanging from their mouths, the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Say cheese!”

The night had been even more wonderful than you had imagined it would be; the love and joy in the air infectious and making you wonder even more if this was all real, still finding yourself caught off-guard whenever you moved your fingers on your left hand and felt something you weren’t yet accustomed to and catching yourself mesmerized with how the ring looked on your hand.

Half of the people you invited had no idea of your engagement, simply inviting them over for a casual get-together, so being able to hold up your hand to show off your gorgeous ring and see their shocked reaction was half the fun, and witnessing how happy and excited everyone was for you and Will made your heart feel like it would burst.

It made you question if your choice to elope was the right thing to do, but as the night came to a close and it was just you and Will left on your own, you knew it was everything you wanted.

You had just finished the last of the cleanup, thankfully with the help of Frankie and a couple of others who refused to leave you and Will to do it all on your own, and were standing in the middle of the yard looking up at the indigo sky littered with stars after you had turned all but one of the outside lights off.

Will’s soft, but sure footsteps in the grass could be heard coming up behind you, and you smiled when his arm slipped around you, holding you close to him with his hand splayed out on your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder where he looked up to the same point in the sky that you were.

“Hmm, what a night,” you sighed, happily, turning in his arms to face him.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, looking down at you lovingly with his hands resting on your hips.

You nodded as your grin stretched across your lips. “So much fun. It was perfect.”

You craned your neck and pecked a kiss on his lips and it took everything in you to pull away, choosing to satisfy your need to keep touching them by tracing your fingertip along the crease beside his mouth and then across the bow of his upper lip.

“What about you? What did you think?”

Will pursed his lips as he thought. “Well, I always have a good time when I’m with you,” he beamed, smirking crookedly at you. “But it solidifies that as much as I love being around our friends and family, I really want this to just be between us.”

“Good, because I feel the same,” you confirmed, feeling him relax after hearing your mutual views shared again despite knowing it was what you both wanted.

He was quiet, and in the moonlight you could see something hinting in his icy eyes.

“What else are you thinking, Miller?”

“How beautiful you look tonight. That dress…”

He growled as he bit his lip, angling his hips into you with implication, his hands tightening their grip on you to make you squirm and giggle.

You had found the little, white dress online and ordered it the moment you laid eyes on it, knowing Will would lose his mind over it, the bit of sweet with the large bow at the small of your back mixed with how sexy it was with the low neckline and short hem a lethal combination.

“Yeah? And what would you like to do to me in this dress?”

Your head tilted innocently to the side as you peered up at him through your lashes, your hands splaying over his broad chest that radiated so much warmth in contrast to the night air that had cooled significantly in the absence of the sun.

Will let out a low growl as his hands began to gather the skirt of your dress, lifting it up to access the white, lacy thong you had on beneath it, ripping them down your hips roughly.

“Let me show you, sweetheart.”

A deranged giggle fueled by lust and anticipation came out of your mouth as you leaned back against Will’s arm that was wrapped around your middle, letting your body hang loosely for him to do whatever he wanted with, and he smirked at your submission as he let his other hand slide between your legs to fondle your bare sex.

His fingers parted your lips, finding you already wet for him and spread your slick up to your clit and then back to your waiting hole, the action eliciting a long moan from you.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, gripping his shoulder tight to support you more. “Here?” you asked, grinding yourself on his hand even with questioning getting fucked in the semi-privacy of your own backyard.

He nodded, looking at you smugly. “Yeah,” he answered, nonchalantly and extremely cocky. “I’ve fucked you in far riskier places.”

You hummed a laugh as you let your eyes close, relishing in his touch rather than worrying if any neighbours would be up and out at this time of night anyway, and realizing they’d probably heard and seen you at least once or twice was a severe understatement.

His index finger slid inside you and then he added his middle one, filling you and stretching you with each stroke in and out, his breathing growing ragged that told of his faltering ability to resist fucking you right away whether you wanted him to wait or not.

You let your hand that was resting on his forearm sink down to the bulge in his shorts, taking hold of his hard cock through the material where you began to gently stroke it in languid motions.

His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot on your lips as he started to finger you faster and harder, your touch driving him wild.

“Do you remember the first time I fucked you?” he asked, his voice gruff from the cigar you watched him smoke earlier, pulling out a smile on your lips.

“Mmm, how could I ever forget?”

“I couldn't stop myself, and I still can't. You make me lose all control…take over every part of me that fights for some fraction of restraint…” He kissed your lips, claiming and wanting, his fingers hooking inside you to stroke your g-spot and make you jolt into him, your grip tightening on his cock.

Moving along your jawline, he ground his body against yours, getting as close to each other as possible as you both worked each other with your hands, his mouth smearing over to your neck.

“And fuck do I ever love you for it,” he growled, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine that only increased when his teeth nipped at your pulse that hammered in your neck.

“You were just a slut taking my cock in the change room, and now you're gonna be my wife…” he uttered, his voice trembling with lust and excitement, the words vibrating against your sensitive skin.

You released your hold on his straining dick and pulled at his shirt, forcing him to abandon your cunt as you lifted it quickly over his head, a steely gaze shared between you before crashing against each other’s lips again.

The skin on his chest was impossibly warm to your palms as you smoothed them over his thick pecs, moaning into him as he teased your clit with the pads of his fingers that were wet from you, the band of your ring twisting as you slid your hand up to hold the side of his neck.

He peeled his mouth away from yours again, hovering against your lips as he spoke with a hoarseness in his tone. “You want it rough, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nodding your head as your other hand returned to his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours again as he undid the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled them down his legs. “My wife…”

You gasped at both the sound of him calling you his wife and from him turning you around so quickly you didn’t even have a chance to react, his hands clawing at your hips to pull them back against his groin where you were given no other choice but to take his cock.

He dragged it between your folds only once before slamming it in, one of his hands fisting your hair to angle your head back, the arch of your body accentuating where the pretty bow on your dress sat at the dip of your lower back.

Something between a laugh and a surprised noise came from you, already satisfied by him keeping his word to fuck you roughly, your hands carding down your own bare thighs sensually until they landed on your knees to support the back blows you were about to receive.

Will didn’t fuck around, already hammering against your ass quickly with sharp enough thrusts they almost stung your cheeks, the sensation of his full balls swinging forward to knock your clit sending you into a frenzy.

“Fuck that pussy is so good, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his breaths coming out heavy and laboured as he worked hard at ruining you.

His grip tightened slightly on your hair as he let go of your hips with the other, bringing it around to hold the front of your neck, his palm resting on your windpipe while his fingers squeezed the sides of your column gently.

You whined as a shiver shot down your spine, feeling dizzy and overcome by so much pleasure, and unable to resist adding even more to the combination, you reached one of your hands between your legs and started rubbing your swollen clit harshly.

“Good girl, you’re gonna come hard on my cock aren’t you?” he asked with a trace of amusement in his voice, and you knew what kind of feral look would be in his eyes if you could see them.

Your body responded to his question, jolting as ecstasy took over control of your nervous system, everything acting on its own accord in an uncontrolled way thanks to the intense actions of the man behind you.

You squeezed his cock in gripping pulses, tightening around him like a vice until you heard his grunts grow louder, the sound music to your ears.

“God damn!” he howled, increasing his pace to something almost barbaric, and goosebumps erupted on your skin at the thrill of it.

Will let his hand that was around your neck slip down your chest, roughly pawing at the low neckline of your dress until your tits spilled out, his fingers squeezing the fleshy curve of one of them as they shook to his movements.

Your moans and cries were growing louder as each second passed, and suddenly aware that any of your neighbours could hear you clear as day, you did your best to stifle them, but Will was quick to correct you.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream.”

“Fuck!” you bellowed, instantly complying as he pounded into you even harder, and after a couple more sharp blows, you had no way of holding back anymore.

Your orgasm tore through you, your body tensing and stilling in meeting his movements leaving him to fuck you through your paralyzing high, your euphoric screams filling the quiet, night air.

Incoherent strings of praise spilled from your open mouth as you came back down to earth, hearing his satisfied chuckle sound in your ears that he’d made you cause such a scene.

“God, Will, fill me up. Please!” you begged, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna get that load, baby…” he hissed. “...fill up that fucking cunt.”

You gasped as he somehow managed to increase his pace again, relentless in his pursuit of fucking you until you were dripping with his cum, his wild grunts telling you he had lost any ways of holding back.

He started to release inside you, but still slammed his cock in and almost all the way out of you as he came, his hot, thick load getting everywhere from deep in your cervix to all over your tingling lips that were stretched out on his girth.

Will stumbled slightly as he finally finished, his stamina faltering and his legs slightly shaking from his efforts, a deranged laugh decorating his words.

“I fucking love you, sweetheart,” he claimed, joyfully.

He grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks without care as he turned your face toward him, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, the sweat that clung to his beard transferring onto your lips.

Will righted himself after stealing your breath, pulling out of you unceremoniously where you moaned from the loss of his fullness inside you, feeling his cum leaking out and starting to trail down your inner thigh.

You stood and smoothed your hair back, turning to face your future husband who looked more gorgeous than ever, his body slick with a generous layer of sweat that glowed in the silvery moonlight.

He smiled crookedly at you, a lazy, sated look on his perfect features as his chest heaved while he still struggled for breath, his eyes gleaming even more of a vibrant blue, looking like some sort of god in front of you that had you dumbstruck.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am that I get to be fucked by you for the rest of my life,” you uttered, your honest thoughts falling off your tongue in your blissful haze.

Will chuckled and held your waist, nodding in agreement.

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

Your smile was covered by his mouth, his kiss claiming and radiating a happiness through you that had become so frequent recently, breathing him in deeply as you swept your hands up his slippery chest and reminded yourself once again that you had all of this to look forward to every day.

---

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