#i can’t get swept away by this…i do not have the time to write it

[the-woman-upstairs]

Firmly believe that if Ford had joined the Henchmaniacs, he and Pyronica would’ve instantly become besties. Ford finds out she’s a quantum physics genius who burned her city to the ground when she didn’t receive the proper appreciation she so rightfully deserved and is like “oh she’s just like me fr.” They would’ve been a “two queens maximizing their joint slay” dynamic for the ages.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

NEXT PART (18+)

MORE

[tbaluver]

hiii!! i've been reading your works for a while and im IN LOVE with your writing <33 thank you for all the effort you put into your content! may i ask what are your HCs for the LIs with a very short partner?? i'm 4'11'' and i have a real hard time imagining how they would deal with an astronomical height difference (they are all giraffes omg���) thank you again for everything you do for us! feel free to refuse if you're uncomfortable with the request, i hope you have a wonderful day and please don't forget to take care of yourself 💕

When You're Short- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader genre/ tags: fluff fluff + silly a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ PLS YOURE SO SWEET thank you so much my sweet angel and thank you for recognizing the effort i put into my writing MWAH MWAH (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ i hope i did this justice bc im around..5'4 ? so im short as well when i compare my height with them (╭ರ_•́) i hope you're having an amazing day anonnie and dont forget to take care of yourself as well ! MWAHH enjoy reading !(ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Oh you’re so adorable to him. He knows what you're capable of but he can't help but feel even more protective around you.

You’re like a fun size plushie that he can just cuddle with all day and night. He loves holding you in his arms because you just fit perfectly. If he could, he would shrink you just so he can keep you in his little pocket and have you travel around with him all day. Sometimes he'll use you as a pillow to rest his chin on your head while the two of you take a nap together.

He loves to rest his head on your lap whenever you’re sitting up, just so he can look up and admire your pretty face.

Whenever you two play video games or watch movies together, he loves pulling you into his lap, his chin resting gently on top of your head as his arms wrap around you

If you want to kiss him, you’ll have to tug on his clothing to give him a hint and usually he’ll lower himself for the kiss but sometimes he teases you, pretending not to understand your intentions. “Hm? What is it? Do you need anything?” He asks, feigning innocence as he watches you pout. Although knowing him, he can’t resist any longer. He leans down pressing a soft kiss to your lips as if he didn’t already know what exactly what you wanted

Whenever you two are out, Xavier always keeps his arm slinging around your waist, pulling you close. He’ll hold your hand firmly whenever you’re walking together, making sure you’re never swept away by the crowd.

Zayne:

Whether or not you two live together, he’ll make sure to install mirrors at your height and place your favorite snacks, utensils, and anything you might need on lower shelves or in drawers so you don’t have to bother getting a chair to reach things when he’s not around.

A small smile curls up on his lips when you compare your hands with his, admiring how big the difference was. He also melts every time your smaller arms wrap around him, your face buried in his chest as you fall asleep beside him. He likes knowing that you feel safe around him.

Whenever you two are out together, he’ll purposely slow his pace to match yours due to his long strides that make him walk faster.

Zayne is always aware of the space around you, keeping an eye for anything above you so nothing comes close to hitting your head.

Except a LOT of forehead kisses. He'll also dip his head down a lot just to kiss you. He also doesn’t mind leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips so you don’t have to strain yourself just to reach him. Whenever it was those deep, passionate kisses where his hands cradle your face, he can't help but smile at how small your head feels in his palm and how it fits so perfectly.

He also loves the way his clothing drapes off your body..which is why he can't let you wear his clothes often because he's worried he might lose control again

Rafayel:

Rafayel absolutely loves the height difference between you two. He’s tall and while some people are close to his height except you, you were so small compared to him.

Whenever you two take photos together, he leans down a little or bends his knees, even if you were wearing heels. He instinctively does it to make sure the height difference in the picture feels more balanced

Rafayel has a collection of really beautiful candid photos of you but also some of the most unflattering shots you can think of. He loves to capture moments from his height, taking photos of his camera looking down at you just to show how tall he is compared to you. It became your photo contact for a while.

You can already expect a lot of teasing from him. Whenever you attempt to kiss him, it only boosts his ego. He lets you make a few attempts, grinning smugly, “You reallllyy wanna kiss me that bad huh cutie?” With a playful smile, he’ll lean down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Expect a lot of beach trips where you’ll use his towering height to shield yourself from the sun for the perfect cover. But don’t think you can get away without paying him back in kisses since he’ll be spending a lot of time with you tucked away behind him.

Whenever you two cuddle, he always gets to be the big spoon and relishes how his arms completely engulf you and loves it whenever you snuggle further into his arms. However anytime you ever want to try to be the big spoon, he’ll tease you, playfully whining about how he’s so cold.

Sylus:

Just like Zayne, he’ll install mirrors around the house so you can always catch a full view of your pretty face and body whenever you need too. But sometimes, he’ll purposely leave things on higher shelves, just so you can call him for help. Instead of him easily handing it to you, he’ll lift you up instead just because he wants to hold you.

He LOVES it when he finds you wearing his clothes. His shirts fit you like a dress sometimes and he purposely leaves the most comfiest ones out for you to wear. You’re practically drowning in his scent and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sylus thinks it’s absolutely adorable and amusing whenever you try to kiss him, standing on your tippy toes and barely reaching his chin. So he’ll lower himself to you, gently guiding your chin to meet his gaze before pressing his soft lips to yours. If there was a chair nearby, he'd sit down, pulling you into his lap before gently pressing his lips to yours. Whenever you're a step ahead of him on the stairs, you're at the perfect height to turn around and surprise kiss him!

He loves to hold hands with you even though his large hands basically consume yours. The size difference never fails to amuse him and finds one of these physical traits of yours to be truly adorable

Whenever you're out together, he'll always have his hand resting on your lower back or he'll offer his arm for you to cling to or his hand for you to hold. He wants to make sure you're always close by his side.

Caleb:

expect teasing. A LOT of it. It makes sense why he calls you pipsqueak as your nickname.

Sometimes he’ll snatch things from you and hold it above his head just so he can get a kiss from you and watch you jump for it. “Aw what’s wrong? Can’t reach it pipsqueak? Maybe if you’d eaten your veggies when we were younger, you’d be tall enough by now.” He absolutely loves watching you get all flustered about it and he’ll laugh and comment on how cute you are.

Constant jokes of, “What was that pipsqueak? Couldn’t hear ya from down there.” With a teasing grin, he’ll lower himself just enough to meet your eyes, “There, now what were you saying?” His smirk would only deepen more if you got flustered, his warm breath brushing your skin.

Sometimes he’ll even rest his arm on top of your head just to tease you and just because it’s absolutely funny to see your reaction and besides..he misses you and the closeness you two once had.

However he knows when to you don’t want him to comment on your height and he can tell whenever the joke goes too far and knows when to stop

Caleb will NOT tolerate anyone calling you short, especially if it’s from a stranger. Whether it’s meant as a joke or even worse, a rude comment, they’d better sleep with one eye open. No one is getting away with disrespecting you

Have you ever found one of his weak spots? It’s whenever you look up at him with those pretty eyes, no puppy pouts face or anything, he’ll melt on the spot right there. Whatever you ask for, you can have it.

Occasionally he’ll ask if you can hop on his back whenever he’s going out for a run or whenever he does push-ups as if you were his personal weight to make his workouts a little more fun

[kazmura]

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ sunghoon x fem, 0.5k, est relationship fluff, ‎‎‎ when sharing face masks with your boyfriend turns into a makeout lol..

› ice boy collection

Your feet gently swayed back and forth as you sat on the bathroom countertop of your shared apartment, a wide smile lighting up your face. Sunghoon leaned in closer, his hands planted firmly on either side of you. His expression mirrored your joy as you carefully clipped his fluffy hair back, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. Even after two years together, the butterflies you gave each other never faded, their flutter as strong as the day it all began.

You giggled softly, leaning in to press your lips against his soft skin. You left gentle pecks on his cheek, then his nose, and finally found his plump lips, lingering there with a warmth that spoke volumes.

He looked down at you with a teasing grin. "Aren't we supposed to be doing face masks right now?"

"We have to kiss before we put them on! Otherwise, we'll just ruin them," you replied with a playful pout.

"Well then, I guess we’d better get it all out now, huh?" he said with a smirk before cradling your face in his hands and pulling you into an intimate kiss.

His lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss, but it quickly deepened as he tilted his head, drawing you closer. His thumbs gently stroked your cheeks, and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine. A satisfied hum left your lips as time seemed to pause, the world fading away as the kiss grew more passionate, leaving you both breathless when you finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together as you shared a quiet moment.

You gently pulled away, a soft smile on your now puffy lips, and grabbed your brush to apply the mask. Carefully, you held his jaw, steadying him as you swept the cool product over his warm skin. Your breath hitched when your eyes met his, the love in his gaze so intense it made your heart flutter.

"Stop looking at me like that, you're distracting me," you muttered, trying to focus.

He smirked, his voice low and teasing. "I can’t help it."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you, making him chuckle softly as he continued to watch you with unwavering affection.

When his mask was done, he wasted no time, his hands slipping around your waist as he swiftly pulled you down from the countertop and perched himself there instead.

"Let me apply yours now," he said with a playful giggle, tugging you closer. Before you could respond, he cupped your face and captured your lips in a deep, slightly rough kiss that left your knees weak.

"Hey! You're going to ruin your mask," you managed to breathe out between kisses, your voice a mix of protest and laughter.

He smirked against your lips, his tone mischievous. "You said it yourself—we have to kiss before applying."

sorry this is so self indulgent 💔 i was literally just daydreaming of this and then decided to write it as a fic..

© kazmura, all rights reserved‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ @kflixnet

[sixosix]

(OFFICIALLY) SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET

i. summary in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.

ii. warnings wc 1.5k, profanity, reader will be angry: couple fight scene but not really, alhaitham is kinda dumb here, but he loves you and you love him and that's all that matters, ending is kinda lame... ft. tighnari and cyno

iii. written for my big sibling @earthtooz hope u like this one earf ily

“Hey, Alhaitham?”

He hums noncommittally.

You nestle further in his arm that’s draped lazily over your shoulder, his other hand and his attention occupied by a book. He doesn’t respond again, but he does glance at you for a moment while you shift, adjusting his arm more comfortably.

“Tighnari sent me a letter the other day.”

“Hm.”

“And it was real sweet, you know. He sent over fruits and told me you have your share in my package. He didn’t want to send them to you because he said the fruits would have expired by the time you’d read the letter.” Alhaitham doesn’t deny it. “But I read something extremely strange in the letter that had me dropping the fruits out of pure shock.”

Alhaitham still doesn’t reply. But you know him well enough to know that he’s no longer reading—just keeping appearances.

“Did you read it?”

“...No.”

Obviously. “Ah, well. Let me quote it, as I feel the need to share it with you as well.” You sit up straight and push Alhaitham’s book away from his line of view. “He said, ‘For the insufferable, lovely couple. It’s been a while since you two have visited. How are you and Alhaitham doing? Write back soon.’ And then he taped a flower.”

Alhaitham’s mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You look miffed.”

You scowl. “Alhaitham, of course I’m miffed! Since when were we a lovely couple? And why are you not surprised? Were you the one to prank them?”

“No one’s trying to fool anyone,” he says smoothly, picking up his book once again. As if he just hasn’t caused your crisis. “Tighnari is simply being a good friend and looking for something to nag us about.”

“Alhaitham, since when were we a couple?” you demanded again, shaking his arm. “Did I miss something? Did I wake up one day and forget about being in a relationship with you?”

“Haven’t we always been in one?”

“No, we have not?”

Alhaitham casts you a glance. “You sound unsure.”

“Because you seem so sure of yourself for no reason,” you fume, itching with the urge to hurl the book at his face. “I didn’t even know you were even into me like that!”

“I let you kiss me on the cheek every night before you leave my house. Sometimes, you don’t even leave my house, so we sleep on the same bed.” As if that explains anything. And did he fling out these reasons to Tighnari, too?

“Well, I do it because I’ve been doing it since we were, like, six. And you never told me to stop. Plus, it’s just a cheek kiss—that’s way different from an actual kiss actual couples do,” you say, getting increasingly infuriated with each word that’s coming out your mouth. Why do you have to explain how relationships work to Alhaitham? Surely he’s read a guide about love in the millions of books he’s touched?

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t start kissing me the way couples do, then.”

Oh, this bitch. “So you knew that I liked you?” Your voice wavers, and you feel a little pathetic. “And that’s what prompted you to start spreading lies to everyone? Is this some joke to you?”

Immediately, his expression is swept off of amusement. “Y/N,” he says as you feel your lips tremble. “Y/N, that’s not—”

“Shut up,” you say. “How long has this been going on? Since when have I been outside of the biggest inside joke, huh?”

“It’s not like that. I thought—”

“Oh, you thought, didn’t you? Yet you didn’t think I don’t want my feelings to be played like—like—” You can’t even bring yourself to say this. You know that Alhaitham can be mean when he wants to be, but making a joke out of the feelings you’ve desperately hidden for years?

“I need to leave.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to announce it. Was it because you rarely even leave his place? Each step feels wrong. You don’t want to be mad at Alhaitham to this extent but you’re hurt.

You ignore Alhaitham’s hurried, “Where are you going?” because you don’t have an answer to that. Wherever you go, you always end up in Alhaitham’s arms.

You forcefully push the door open and march off, head spinning, humiliated. You hear Alhaitham’s steps fall into place after yours. It’s pissing you off even more that Alhaitham doesn’t even look the slightest bit frazzled, as if you impulsively sprinting off is just a walk in the block for him.

Then you spot Cyno in the middle of a street. He catches your wrist before you can avoid him.

He blinks, mildly surprised to see it’s just you and not some food stall thief. “Y/N.” Cyno tilts his head slightly to acknowledge the man a few feet away from you. “Alhaitham. Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing!” You don’t question why or how Cyno is here, shoving him aside—which proved to be a little difficult given how he’s pretty strong for such a tiny man.

“You’re crying,” Cyno points out as you try to push him away as if you aren’t aware of how your face feels uncomfortably hot and how tears are sliding off your cheeks.

“It’s a marital dispute,” Alhaitham says, directly behind you.

His voice makes you scowl. So infuriatingly sexy, and you’re mad at it. “We’re not married!”

Cyno nods, serious. “Yes, I only heard about the engagement.” At your stunned silence and Alhaitham’s reluctant stillness, Cyno clears his throat and steps aside. “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t know how relationships work.”

You groan as Cyno walks off, “Great, so even Cyno thinks we’re a couple. Who’s next, Lesser Lord Kusanali?”

Alhaitham looks away. “Well—”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Your wrist seems keen on being dragged around by men today, it seems. Alhaitham firmly tugs at your arm, pulling you close to his chest, his gaze intensely searching yours. But all he would be able to see is your scowl. And all you can see is his handsome face.

“Y/N,” Alhaitham says, your name in his voice a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think you would react that way.”

“What, you think I’d just roll with it?” you spit with dripping bitterness.

“Yes.” You're taken aback as you gaze at him and find his expression to be entirely genuine and open. “We fell into a friendship so easily. I fell in love with you the same way: naturally. I thought…” And then his usually blank face twists into something unpleasant. “Forgive me.”

“Alhaitham, you idiot. You bastard. Do you have any idea how relationships work?”

“No. All I know is how to be with you.” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “But it appears I’m not even doing that right.”

“Fuck you.” You bat his hand away. His face falls. “You don’t get to act all sweet to me like that. I spent years thinking you would never see me that way, and you get to decide one morning that we’re in a relationship, just like that?”

“You’ve liked me for years?” Alhaitham’s eyes are a bit wide, totally missing the point.

“Alhaitham.”

“I ask you out every dinner. And you say yes each time.”

“I didn’t think you meant it like that!”

“I did mean it like that,” Alhaitham says, and again with that ‘so sure of myself’ personality. You hate it. You love it. “And I meant everything I’ve ever said to you like that. I didn’t tell anyone anything; they just assumed on their own, and only then did I realize how it did seem that way. It was my selfishness that didn’t try to deny their assumptions.”

Alhaitham’s usually so difficult to speak to, especially when it comes to expressing his true emotions. You often find yourself filling the silence, and he seems content with it. However, he appears desperate at this moment, as though you’re planning on leaving if he doesn’t give you a reason to stay.

You are too weak. “So you like me.”

“I do.”

“…And you want to… be in a relationship with me.” Alhaitham nods. You're beginning to feel flustered as the realization sets in that the man you've always dreamt of is holding you intimately in the middle of nowhere, and also confessing that he feels the same way. “Ask me out properly, then.”

Alhaitham looks at you incredulously. Did he think it was over?

“Do it, Alhaitham. Woo me. Win me over. Sweep me off my feet.”

“...Y/N,” he hesitates, his face tinted pink, vaguely embarrassed. “Go out with me. In that way.”

It sounds demanding and clumsy, but it’s perfectly Alhaitham, so your heart beats out of your chest and your face splits into a grin all the same.

You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’re going to do it right, you hear me? You won’t just let me do anything. And you will start—officially—tomorrow by telling everyone that we are not engaged nor married.”

Alhaitham dips his head down, your chin trapped by his fingers. “We will be, eventually, though. And I can just start now. Officially.”

Your confusion doesn’t last for even a second when his lips meet yours in a kiss. You’ve been wooed. Won over. Swept off your feet.

earth i hope u know it took me months to find a good plot for your man this was a feat in itself. also i copy pasted your tags love u.

also if u caught the title while it was called swept over your feet shut up…. Please. this didnt have a title originally 🙁

[crescenthistory]

steady me, guide me, love me

Pairing: Barty Crouch Junior x Reader

Summary: After yet another fight, you have a serious talk with Junior about being careful, and he allows himself to be vulnerable with you.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: not proofread, references to duels, blood and bruised knuckles, hurt/comfort, reader is anxious and stressed for barty, talks of dying, reader is not matching barty's freak but it's because she loves him and wants him to take a breather, barty and reader have an emotional disagreement but i would not classify it as a "fight", kissingggggg, like one innuendo

Notes: this was originally going to be an entirely different fic and not at all this emotional, but then barty had a mind of his own and took over my writing. so i am simply not to blame

***

The torches lining the Slytherin common room flickered in the dim light of the early evening. A faint breeze swept through the castle, carrying the scent of damp stone and the promise of rain. The common room was unusually quiet for a Friday night – students scattered in clusters, engrossed in studying or murmuring in low tones about the latest drama from their shared classes.

Barty was not among them. 

You sat on one of the far couches, attempting to focus on your homework but mostly letting your mind wander. It wasn’t unusual for Barty to disappear, but you hadn’t seen him for hours now, and the knot of anxiety in your stomach tightened as time ticked by. You knew him too well. Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t good.

The door to the common room burst open with a loud thud, shaking the portraits on the walls. The students nearby jumped, startled, while your heart only jumped in recognition. Barty, his hair windswept, his tie undone, and his eyes gleaming with that feral, maniacal delight he wore like armour, strode in like he owned the place.

Trailing behind him, a faint scent of burnt fabric and… was that blood?

Your stomach clenched, and you shot up from the couch, abandoning your parchment as you hurried toward him. 

“Barty–” you began, but before you could even reach him, Barty’s voice rang out, sharp as ever.

“That was brilliant!” he declared, a wicked grin splitting his face. The students in the room shot wary glances at him before quickly looking away, clearly unwilling to be caught up in whatever this is.

You stopped in front of him, hands crossed over your chest, trying to keep your voice steady despite the surge of concern rising in your throat. “What did you do?”

His eyes flicked over to you, and for a brief moment, something in them softened, only for a moment – Barty wasn’t one to linger on emotions that exposed him.

“Oh, hi, dollface,” he drawled, closing the distance between you in two strides. He leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear, the smell of singed air and danger still clinging to him. “You should’ve seen it. That prat, Avery, dared to insult us–”

“Barty, what did you do?” you repeated, your voice firmer this time. You gripped his arm, pulling him slightly away from the curious eyes in the room, off to the side.

His smirk widened, unbothered. “We duelled. A proper one. Out by the forest. Let’s just say…” He waved a hand dismissively, as if the details didn’t matter. “He won’t be insulting anyone for a while. Got a good lesson in fear.”

You stared at him, heart pounding. There was a faint smear of blood near the collar of his shirt – not his, you hoped – and his knuckles were bruised, like they’d been cracked against someone’s jaw. Clearly not just a magical duel. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, wanting to ensure he was good before you rip into him for putting himself in harm’s way again.

He half-scoffed at you, waving any concern off. “I’m here, ain’t I? I’m fine, Avery’s not the worst I’ve seen.”

“Barty, you can’t keep doing this,” you whispered, eyes darting toward the others in the common room. You lowered your voice even more. “You can’t keep getting into fights just because someone runs their mouth.”

“Can’t?” he repeated, his expression twisting into a mocking smile, though you could see some uncertainty in his eyes. “You know damn well I can, baby. I will. If some filthy coward thinks he can throw my name – our name – in the dirt, I’ll break him.”

“You’ll get yourself expelled, is what you’ll do,” you shot back, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Or worse – someone’s going to get seriously hurt. You can’t just throw yourself into these things because– because–”

“Because what?” Barty interrupted, his voice sharper than he usually was with you. His eyes bore into yours, demanding something you weren’t sure you could give him. “Because I care too much? Because I won’t let anyone talk down to us?”

There it was again, that us he always slipped in when talking about you and him. It made you stutter in more ways than one.

You sighed, staring at him for a minute. Your heart ached. You loved that Barty cared, albeit too much sometimes, but his obsession with proving himself, with protecting what he thought was his, was going to destroy him. You could see the cracks forming already.

“Come with me,” you said quietly, pulling on his arm again. This was not a conversation to be had here, not with a dozen of already too curious eyes watching. You needed to get him away, alone, where he could let down his guard fully and you could hopefully talk some sense into him.

His gaze flickered around the room, but he didn't put up a fight, he never did with you about these things. “Fine,” he muttered, letting you guide him out of the common room.

The hallways of Hogwarts were mostly deserted at this hour. The faint echo of your footsteps bounced off the stone walls as you led him down the stairs to a more secluded corner near the dungeons, where the stone was colder and the shadows thicker. Barty, as always, followed with a mix of curiosity and defiance in his eyes, the corners of his mouth still turned up in that maddening half-smile.

Once you were out of earshot from any stragglers, you stopped and turned to him. 

“Let me see,” you said, reaching for his hand.

Barty raised an eyebrow, but didn’t pull away as you gently lifted his bruised knuckles toward the dim light of a torch. The skin was split in a couple of places, dried blood smeared along his fingers. You swallowed the knot of worry in your throat, your thumb brushing against the cuts.

“What did he say?” you asked quietly.

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“It matters to me,” you insisted, not looking up from his hand.

He sighed, his free hand coming up to run through his dishevelled hair. “Something about my father. About how I’m ‘just like him,’ bound to be a disappointment. Then he said something about you. Called you…” He trailed off, anger clearly still knocked fully out of him. “Well, I don’t think I need to repeat that.”

Your stomach twisted. Avery was known for being a bully, but dragging you into it, using Barty’s relationship with you as some kind of twisted insult, was beyond cruel. Not to mention, beyond stupid.

No wonder Barty had reacted the way he did.

You stopped your inspection of his hand, instead interlacing your fingers with his as you leaned back against the cold stone wall. “You can’t keep doing this, Barty,” you repeated, your voice softer now, the fight draining out of you. “Don’t get me wrong, I understand, really I do. But you can’t just… lose yourself every time someone says something cruel.”

He stepped closer, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “I’m not losing myself,” he said, his voice low, the words a steady pulse of loyalty. “I’m doing what’s necessary. What no one else will do. I’m keeping us safe.”

You shook your head, blinking back the frustration building in your chest. “And what if next time, it’s not just a duel? What if next time you really hurt someone and get in serious trouble for once? Or, gods forbid, they hurt you?”

Barty laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “They can try. But they’ll have to be a hell of a lot smarter than Avery.”

“That’s not the point!” you snapped, pushing off the wall and closing the space between you. You grabbed the front of his shirt, your fingers tangling in the fabric. “You’re going to get yourself killed one day, and I can’t–” Your voice cracked, the weight of your worry pressing down on you. “I can’t stand it.”

His smile faltered, and you saw the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. It was brief, but it was there, like a flash of lightning in a storm, gone before you could fully grasp it. 

His hands moved to your wrists, gently prying your fingers away from his shirt, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he held your hands in his against his chest, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow circles, grounding you in the moment.

“You worry too much,” he murmured, his voice softer now, as though the fight in him had dulled with the weight of your concern. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You think you do, but you don’t,” you whispered back, your voice almost breaking. “You think throwing yourself into danger is some kind of answer, that it’ll make you feel something, or prove something– either to them, or to yourself. I don’t know, but one day, Barty, it’s going to be too much, and you–”

You cut yourself off, biting down on your lip to keep your voice from shaking. You weren’t sure how to finish that sentence. Thoughts often consumed you of a world where Barty’s recklessness finally caught up to him, your own unhealthy way of coping with your feelings for him. He had his fists, you had your thoughts, and you both had your spirals. The thought of losing him scared you more than anything else.

His fingers tightened around yours, and his eyes flicked madly between yours and your lip you realised had quivered ever so slightly. For a moment, you thought he might agree, that he might actually take what you were saying to heart, but then that familiar smirk curled back up on his lips, and his mask slid into place again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice low, smooth, with that edge of defiance you knew so well. “Not unless you’re coming with me.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The way he said it, like it was so simple, like the idea of you not being by his side was unthinkable, made your chest tighten. But it didn’t erase the fear that gnawed at your insides, the knowledge that Barty didn’t care about consequences in the same way you did. He only knew how to burn, and he didn’t care if he burned out in the process.

You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “You can’t keep fighting for me, Barty. I don’t need–”

“Don’t,” he cut you off. His eyes flashed, something dangerous sparking behind them. “Don’t tell me I can’t fight for you. Don’t tell me to sit back and let people say whatever the hell they want. You are mine to protect, love, whether you like it or not.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There it was again — that raw, possessive streak that ran through Barty like a current, so powerful it was almost overwhelming. The way he looked at you, like you were the one thing in the world that made sense to him, the one thing he could claim as his own, made your heart race. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like this– something that hinted at what you both knew was there between you.

He never said “I love you,” never asked for anything, but this– this was his way of showing it. He’d destroy anything, anyone, who threatened what was his.

“I am,” you relented softly. “But I usually don’t need protecting. Not like this.”

Barty’s jaw clenched, and he pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, the scent of smoke still clinging to him.

“Maybe not,” he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a growl. “But I need to protect you. Please understand.”

You froze at that, blinking up at him. His eyes were locked onto yours, and for once, there was no smirk, no playful deflection. Just raw, unfiltered passion. You could see the truth of it there, in the way his fingers held yours so tightly, like he was afraid to let go. 

In his eyes, you understood this part of him more closely. This was the only thing that made him feel like he was in control, like he had some kind of power over the chaos in his life. His father’s expectations, the pressure to be perfect, the constant disappointment looming over him. It all faded when he was with you. With you, he wasn’t a failure. He was needed because he was yours.

Heat rose in your cheeks, the air between you thick with unspoken words, unspoken feelings. His thumb traced the inside of your wrist, sending shivers up your arm. You closed your eyes, trying to find the words, but they stuck in your throat. 

“Barty,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I… I do understand. But for the same reason, I need you to be safe.”

He swallowed and nodded briefly, his hair falling into his eyes, and consequently yours, black and green strands filling your vision. You laughed a bit, tension clearing for half a second, as you freed one of your hands to push his hair away. You let your hand trail down to ghost across his cheek and jaw.

“Stop treating yourself like you don’t matter,” you whispered.

Whatever remnants of a self-assured smile he had clung to were wiped from his face. He just stared at you, his eyes wide, like he didn’t know what to say. Slowly, as if he was unaware his body was moving, his shoulders slumped, and he leaned further into you, allowing the wall you were leaned against to keep you both upright.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Yet you could read his lips – a soft do I? – and you let your hand hold his jaw more securely, as you whispered, “You do, Barty. You do. To me.”

Barty didn’t look at you. His jaw was clenched, his eyes staring down at the stone floor as if it held the answers to everything. For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, retreat behind that mask of bravado and chaos that he wore so well, but then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet yours, and the raw pain in his eyes nearly took your breath away.

“You really are all I have,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “If I lose you because of some tosser–”

“You won’t,” you cut him off, flattening your other hand over his heart, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingers. “You won’t lose me, Barty. I’m not going anywhere. And neither will you, because I’m not letting you. Wreak havoc as much as you please, but I beg you to be careful.”

Barty’s eyes softened, and he mustered a small smile for you, the one you loved the most. “Well, you know I love it when you beg,” he teased, smile widening when you rolled your eyes and joke scoffed at him. You couldn’t hide your grin – exactly what he was aiming for.

“Very funny, Junior, but I do mean it.”

“I know you do,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he leaned into your touch. Then, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it: “I’m sorry.”

Before he could say another word, you shook your head, humming in disagreement. “Don’t apologise, love, not for caring.”

“No, no. Just sorry for worrying you, s’all.” His eyes remained shut, and your heart ached in acknowledgement of how hard that must be for him to say.

“All I need you to do is be a bit more careful in your chaos and mischief, ‘kay?” You moved your face tentatively closer to his, admiring his features when his guard is down.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, opening his eyes to look into yours with a small smile playing across his lips. His hands came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and affection. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. “Just… stay with me.”

For a moment, there was silence. The flicker of the torchlight cast long shadows on Barty’s face, highlighting the vulnerability in his eyes, the way his lips parted like he was about to say something but couldn’t quite bring himself to.

His hands were still on your face, warm and grounding, and you leaned into his touch, feeling the heat of him against your skin. Your nose barely brushed his as you did, and you could swear his breath hitched. With so much raw emotion in the air between you, you let your heart dictate your actions, and you closed the small gap between you, kissing him tentatively.

It was far from the first kiss you and Barty shared, but it was much softer than the others. This was not a drunken party kiss, neither of you were aiming for distraction or entertainment. It felt oddly pure as he kissed you back passionately, but slowly, allowing it to hang between you. This was him letting you in, letting himself be intimate and vulnerable.

“I’ll stay with you,” Barty finally whispered once you separated ever so slightly, his voice so low it was barely audible. “Always.”

He said it with such conviction, such raw honesty, that you knew he meant it. The knot of anxiety that had rested strongly in your chest loosened at his words, reassurance and safety washing over you. 

“Then stop fighting like you’ve got nothing left to lose,” you said softly, your fingers tracing along his neck. “Because you have me, and I'm not letting you go.”

“I have you,” he repeated, looking as if he was deep in thought. His hands tightened on your face, expression hardening for a moment. 

“I want you to know that I’m not on some ego power trip, I’m not like that.” He trailed off, his brow furrowing as if he couldn’t quite find the right words. “It’s about making sure they know I’m not weak. That we’re not weak. It makes me feel, I don’t know… safer.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, smiling to reassure him. “I know you’re not. You’re… scared, which probably feels even worse. But we are okay, we’re fine.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering with something – doubt, maybe, or fear. It was rare to see him uncertain, for a boy who usually lived in absolutes and extremes. You knew how hard it was for him to let anyone see the cracks in his armour, even you, but there was a part of him, the part that clung to you like you were his lifeline, that wanted to believe you. The part you needed to foster.

He let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly again, and for a moment, you both just stood there, the tension between you shifting into something more intimate. His hands slid down from your face to rest on your shoulders, then your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, entirely flush against one another.

“I’m not scared,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. It was like he was speaking to himself more than you.

You smiled faintly, shaking your head. “Liar.”

A huff of laughter escaped his lips, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, his tone softening in a way it rarely did with anyone but you. “Can you blame me?”

“I never blame you, love.” You leaned down to rest your head against his shoulder, feeling his breathing move you. He hummed at that, but didn't move to say anything else.

“I don’t need you to be perfect, Barty,” you whispered, playing with his hair. “I just need you to stop tearing yourself apart. I just need you to let me care for you like you care for me.”

His arms tightened around you, and you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was still fighting some internal battle you couldn’t fully understand.

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“It’s not,” you said quietly, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his back. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Barty was silent for a long time, his arms still wrapped around you, his breath slow and steady against your hair. You could feel the weight of his emotions pressing down on him, the years of anger and frustration and fear that he’d carried with him for so long. Then, you felt him press a hard kiss to the crown of your head.

“You’re the only thing that makes me feel like… like I’m not falling apart,” he admitted, his words barely above a whisper. Your heart clenched at his confession, and you lifted your head to look up at him. 

“You’re not falling apart,” you said softly, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Not while I’m here, I won’t let you.”

Barty’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite name, and before you could react, his lips were on yours again, soft, tentative, but full of the intensity you had come to expect from him. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the raw desperation in his kiss, the way he was clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

When his lips left yours, his face barely moved, noses still touching and his breath fanning your face. The both of you stood breathing heavily in the quiet hallway, and you came to realise how grateful you should be no one had walked past yet. His eyes searched yours, as if looking for some kind of confirmation that you were still there, that you hadn’t disappeared.

Barty’s lips curled into a small, tired smile, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw a flicker of peace in his eyes.

“I’ll be good. Just… stay with me,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You smiled softly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “Always.”

[avocado-writing]

Companions reacting to Tav telling them they love them right in the middle(or after) a fight?? Like Tav is just so in awe of seeing em in action<3

oh! So sweet! Absolutely, here you go anon - writing as if you’ve seen them do something magnificent in battle & are so overcome with love that you have no choice but to blurt it out! (some stuff under a cut for being a bit NSFW LMAO) plus mentions of blood & violence

Astarion

stabs someone attacking you from out of the darkness with such efficiency they’re dead before they hit the ground

you’re blown away by the bloodlust and fury in his eyes - how DARE someone try to hurt you?

”I love you,” you choke out, wide-eyed and trembling from fear and emotion.

he’s shocked, but reaches over to give you a quick and bloody kiss before stabbing someone approaching behind you and urging you to get back to the fight

tells you later it was very silly to be distracting yourselves like that… but he does appreciate it nonetheless 😌

Wyll

we’ve seen the way he’s introduced in game, we know he’s a fan of some showmanship

you see him deal with three opponents at once, Eldritch Blasts in one hand and rapier in the other, and shout that you love him almost instinctively

when he finishes seeing them off he leaps across the battlefield, spins you, and gives you a fiery kiss before darting back up to block another sword

you feel like you’ve had the air stolen from your lungs but quickly manage to recalibrate yourself - you have a fight to win!

you can’t help stealing glances at his fine form for the rest of the battle though 😏

Gale

we know canonically he gets turned on from watching you fight.

you yell out that you love him after seeing him sling the coolest Fireball? he’s putty in your hands afterwards.

so desperate, kissing you, begging for your hands to be all over him

“you are so wonderful, my heart… to see you in battle… it set every inch of me aflame…”

gets you into a routine of quickies after battle bc the two of you are fired up. neither of you mind delaying your adventure to fuck rough and fast. the rest of the party… could do without that.

Karlach

is busy raging and does NOT hear you lol

roars in response but that could just be a normal battle roar when it comes to her tbf

she finds you afterwards though, a little sheepish, and is like “oh erm did you say you loved me mid-battle?”

”yes! you looked so cool cleaving that dude in half karlach, I was a bit swept up…”

her face goes bright(er) red and she actually giggles before pulling you into a kiss

“things like that make this all worthwhile, solider. I love you too.”

Shadowheart

you’re dying. she floods you with a cure wounds so powerful it starts your heart again and also cures, like, an unrelated ache in your hip too, lol

you look up at her, bathed in the blood of battle, and she is like an angel sent from the heavens

“I love you” you manage to croak out from cracked lips

“I know,” she says, utterly unfazed, and then pushes you to your feet to keep on fighting

does give you a sweet smooch after battle though, to let you know she appreciated it 😌

Lae’zel

“tsk’va! there is a time and a place for this!”

she swings her sword and cuts a man’s head clean off, showering you both in a rain of warm blood, and you’re enchanted with her.

has to fight people off from wounding you because you’re so distracted oops

afterwards tells you that you cannot afford to be so absent-minded in battle… but does hold you close and rest her forehead to yours, allowing a moment of connected closeness between you ❤️

Halsin

you confess it when you see him bear out and start ripping people into pieces.

he is just… incredible. all raw power and brilliance.

you shout your love over to him and the bear roars before taking the head off of a zombie in one bite

always fights nearby you anyway, but will make an effort to get closer so he can hear your words of affection better!

plods over to you in wildshape afterwards and nuzzles into you, huffing happily when you bury your hands in his fur and give him a scratch 💕

Minthara

her blade is full of the might of her god, and she is going to use it to sunder her opponents.

you’re dazzled, in utter awe when she kills a fiend with a single blow from her sword

you can’t help the words falling from your lips.

she lifts her shield to block a blow from falling on you, and in its shade she gives you a kiss and says one word:

”good.”

[retroaria]

Michael Kaiser. That’s it. That’s the post.

i’m having kaiser thoughts. i’m pondering my orb, and all it’s showing me is michael kaiser. the evil voices in my head (my ask box) are taunting me (sending very nice requests) to sell my soul to michael kaiser (finally write something about him) and so here i am.

summary: random kaiser hc’s (lmk if you want more/nsfw ones)

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🪽 - aria

• thinking about how possessive he would be in a relationship. it isn’t overbearing, in the sense that he trusts you and lets you do you’re own thing. however, he’s a rather insecure man behind all that smug douchebaggery that he puts off and he has a hard time watching you interact with other men of his same stature. because truly, no matter how good he is to you, he isn’t the best person all around. there are guys out there that would be better for you and he can’t help be fear that you’ll be swept off your feet and taken from him.

• Kaiser is gentle with you. you actually turned him into a completely different person. It’s not that you’ve really changed him at his core, but you’ve opened him up to love he didn’t know before, and so he feels like he has nothing to be afraid of with you. he’s vulnerable and expressive and happy with you. he makes sure to provide that same experience for you in the relationship, making sure you always know you can go to him for anything and you don’t have to hide anything from him.

• In the beginning of the relationship, Kaiser is very protective of your privacy. He’s really afraid of the consequences that may come with the world knowing who you are and who you are to him. he’s not naive, he knows there’s bad people out there. not only that, but it’s no one else’s right to know you’re love for each other. i see him doing a soft launch and that’s it. after that he’ll post you on occasion and be a little less aggressive about hiding from paparazzi, but he still doesn’t want to share you. you’re his whole world, keyword HIS.

• kaiser LOVES intimacy. physical or emotional, he loves those sweet loving moments that come to fruition from the trust and bond the two of you have cultivated. he loves showering and taking baths with you, relishing in the gentle touches as the two of you clean each other up. they’re always filled with soft giggles and quick kisses, before drying each other off and snuggling up. he loves listening to you talk about your day, not sparing him from details you may have spared others from. telling him all the thoughts and actions you aren’t proud of, unafraid of being judged in his eyes. the vulnerability of it all makes his heart beat fast, but you’re both so trusting and in love that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

• this might be a hot take, but i feel like the concept of marriage would scare him a bit. it’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you, because he absolutely does and already plans on it. it’s just a level of commitment that he never thought anyone would dedicate to him. he doesn’t want you to end up regretting it in the future. he doesn’t shy away from conversation about it though, he actually wants you guys to talk about it and get a feel for where you both stand. when the time comes to take that next step, he’s as ready as ever. just make sure you don’t break his heart please (or i’ll find you bro.)

• dates with kaiser can either be extravagant and classy or they can be chill and sweet, he can do both. sometimes he wants to take you to the nicest restaurants he can fine, see you all dolled up looking absolutely stunning for him, and pamper you the entire night. other times he just wants the two of you to do something fun and spontaneous, would take you to a fair and win you all the stuffed animals you want, or would take you on a stroll around the city, letting you frolick through the shops while he holds all your bags for you. he’s such a gentleman either way.

• kaiser loves being domestic with you. doing the laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the house, making dinner, he loves it. in those moments he finds himself wishing they would last forever, just the two of you existing in each others presence, he has nothing to worry about.

moon divider- @strangergraphics-archive

[hoseoksluna]

PRACTICE | jjk

pairing: dom!jungkook x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.9k

summary: you make jungkook proud by practicing what he taught you.

warnings: jungkook smiling and being all dominant!!!, also manly as fuck, use of his korean name cuz it's hot, masturbation, reader is horny and just a girl!!, biker mask (gasp), edging, orgasm denial, oral sex (f. receiving), dom/sub dynamics, squirting, desperation, porn, use of a sex toy, brief nipple play, spanking, bratty behavior <3, degradation, praise, the beauty of cumming together, mentions of sex, aftercare

note: it's entirely jungkook's fault that i wrote this bc he made me h word. i hope you enjoy the very first of the many smutty one shots i'm planning to write!! i had the time of my life writing this, imagining 3D!jungkook cuz he's just so delicious there. my weakness. fuck my life!! pls let me know what you think <3 like and comment (reblogs r very useful but i won't pressure u angel). love you!!

side note: i rly fucking miss jungkook. that's all. byebye

Stars fill your vision as your hand works wonders between the softness of your legs. You are fucked. Oh so deliciously, majestically and colossally fucked. And you whimper once the wave of that pleasure you burn for unfolds within your body. Arch your back. Roll your hips. Huff and puff until you near your breaking point. Then you lift your hand. 

The surge ebbs away and you sink your teeth into your puffy bottom lip, desperation scorching each and every perimeter of your skin.

You enjoy this. The smug on your face couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried. You've been going at this for a dozen of minutes, sitting on your dark green couch with your legs spread, one hand rubbing circles on your needy bundle of nerves, the other gripping your phone with all its might, how it hasn’t cramped yet is beyond you, as it plays a dirty porn that does very little to quench your thirst. Your closest friend for the time being, have been ‘for the time being’ for much longer than you care to admit, a small pink vibrator Pinkie, keeps you company beside you while you swallow every grunt and whimper the couple in the video makes. It's turned off, however. Resting in the shadow of the threatening calamite that your shaking thighs are. You can't edge yourself with it when you're this fucked, so deeply lost in the rosy maze of lust. You would have to keep the head on your clit for merely a second, otherwise you'd be coming, and you'd be coming fast but not very hard. And where’s the fun in that? It still keeps you thirsty, your insides begging you again and again for another hit of dopamine, for just one drop of cum. Well, your pussy mainly.

It’s a persistent problem for you. You get horny, you touch yourself and you come under two minutes or less. The hit so small in quantity, so weak in quality that you inescapably need more than one round to be satisfied. The situation is even more problematic when you get down to it with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter much when you’re on the receiving end; you enjoy yourself, you look forward to his dick splitting you open, so it just cuts time. Although it does matter when he fucks you like the man he is. You clamp down on him, and he comes as fast as you do. You can’t help it. You’re so enamored with him, with his masculinity and his dominance, it burns your body alive. Who are you to tell your body no? It’s impossible. He’s impossible, and absolutely irresistible. Though you wish you could get lost in the pleasure, and you truly do each time you have sex, and it gets unfairly swept away from you. You’re just a thirsty girl. This unjust treatment pisses you off.

You opened up to your boyfriend about this and he laughed in your face, stroking your cheek. Told you it’s what he loves about you and you just rolled your eyes, dismissing it. Then he took your hand and sat you down again, offering you a solution that changed your life. For the worst at first, for the better the more you did it.

He suggested you try edging yourself when you play with your pussy. He showed you the ropes the first time, guiding you through a long process of denied orgasms, and you wanted to strangle him. You had to lift your hand when he said so, otherwise you were getting spanked. The joke was on him because you enjoyed the harsh sting, the roughness of his palm on your skin. But then it was him who was laughing when he pinned your arms above your head and confiscated your pleasure. You squirmed. Whined. Waited. Then he fingered you and you came so hard you saw stars, the orgasm just kept going and going. You were satisfied after one round. Problem fixed.

“Practice it until your body learns,” he had told you and you almost came again.

What a man.

The memory of this teaching lesson is what got you thirsty right now, actually. 

You pay attention to the way the guy in the video squishes the tits of the lucky girl in the video and fucks them with his cock. You moan, lowering your fingers to your clit again and starting a series of slow circles. Your fingers are slippery from your leaking essence and the sweat on your folds from your marvelous torment, and it turns you on even more. You feel your orgasm coming, despite your pace, and you eat your fist in exasperation. Should you say fuck it and finally make yourself come? You hear the order uttered by your boyfriend in the back of your head, remember how long he told you to edge for that one time, and you want to make him proud (you do!), but then the girl licks at the slit of his cock and you clench around nothing. You want that so bad and you groan, anger and desperation creating something so sinful, so unhinged inside of you.

Resuming your movement on your bud, you pick up the pace because fuck it, you can’t take it anymore. The pressure, the anticipation of chasing after what you desire is so sweet and it fills you with energy and giddiness. Fuck jogging, now you're sprinting, clenching your muscles, nearing closer and closer to the finish line. You lift your knees, riding your hand, moans spilling from your mouth. You'd come right on the spot if it wasn't for the ding of a sudden text message snapping you out of your daze.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Fuck, did you not turn on 'do not disturb'?

koo: I'm here

You stare at the notification in disbelief. Beneath it, the guy is fucking the girl's throat. You screech, burying your face in your hands. What is your boyfriend doing here so early? You aren't supposed to see each other until later tonight, or are you forgetting something? Your mind is spinning, another denied orgasm taking a toll on you. Sighing, you slip your legs into your panties and your plush pajama pants, your feet finding their comfort in your fluffy slippers. Since he's here, he's gonna make himself extremely useful, you decide, putting on your warm bathrobe with Mickey Mouse on it and grabbing your keys.

As you descend the stairs from your apartment, the sticky wetness between your legs makes you uncomfortable. Your eyebrows furrow in anger. Does a girl really have to suffer in order to reach a mind-blowing orgasm these days? You scoff to yourself, sinking your key into the lock of the door to the main building. The key doesn't budge, though, and it almost makes you punch that fucking door. The lock has been sporadically working and not working for months, hence why the door needs to stay locked properly at all times, and nobody has so far taken the time to call someone to repair it. You kick the door with your knee and you hear a laugh behind it. You recognize it belongs to your boyfriend and you smile to yourself, finding the sweet sound stupidly cute. Your hand reaches for the key again and you turn it. To your surprise, the lock doesn't fuck around and actually lets you see your boyfriend.

Jeongguk is standing beside his motorcycle, black helmet under his armpit. Your eyes widen when they discover his face is hidden under a biker mask of the same color. You haven’t seen him with his bike in quite some while. He prefers to drive you around in his car lately. It’s winter after all. He keeps you warm, sneaks his fingers between your legs, rubs your pussy through your jeans to tease you because he likes it when you’re needy for the rest of the evening. Oh, and you eat there so icicles don’t hang from your hands. Food, that is. You get it.

It’s a wonderful surprise, nonetheless. Only his orbs and eyebrows are visible, his pouty mouth creates shapes on the mask that almost causes you to see stars again. Yeah, you think you could come like this, staring at his tall figure dressed in a puffer jacket and gray baggy jeans laying dangerously low on his hips. Even though you know how big his dick is, the size of them makes him appear even bigger and you salivate. Your pussy drools, too. You're about to get on your knees right now, you don't care.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to fix that fucking lock myself," Jeongguk remarks.

Oh, fuck. He's so manly.

Just one suck. Fuck, please. Just one.

You're going to scrape your fucking knees on the ground for everyone to see, you genuinely don't care. He deserves it for looking like that, for acting like such a man.

Your clit gains a heartbeat (again) and you blink up at him, desperation once again unfurling its flames under your skin. You smile behind the pain, finding the whole situation completely ridiculous now.

"I'd be grateful," you purr and Jeongguk walks towards you, smiling like the little shit he is, helmet still under his armpit. You lift the hem of his mask to reveal his delicious lips, piercing-less. You kiss him, moonstruck. "I'm tired of this shitty lock."

Jeongguk nods. "Noted." Then he kisses you again. "It was funny how you kicked it."

You laugh. He takes off the mask entirely and you both walk up the stairs to your apartment, though a pang of disappointment hangs onto your heart. You wish he kept the mask on. It was nonsensically hot to you. A lightbulb flares to life in your mind abruptly and you hide your smirk beneath the curtain of your hair.

Yeah, you’re going to make him wear it as you suck him dry.

Your giddiness extends to another level and you hurriedly walk up the rest of the stairs to your apartment, your butt jiggling under your thick robe.

Jeongguk walks in like he owns the place. He sets his helmet on the kitchen island and his mask right beside it. You watch as he empties out his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys, a pack of cigarettes and a purple lighter. Leaning over, he hangs his winter jacket on one of the barstools. His back muscles ripple under his oversized black T-shirt with each movement of his arms. What steals your attention, however, is the sliver of skin that he unwittingly lets you see as he fixes his jeans to rest a little higher on his hips. 

White Calvins. 

Oh, yes. 

The dip of his spine on his lower back.

You lick your lips.

The smallness of his waist that grows into such a vulgar broadness of his shoulders. 

Fuck, you do everything you can to not bite onto your finger; instead you opt to hide your drool beneath your hand as you continue to wait behind him, tracing your lower lip with the acrylic nail on your thumb, diabolical with your stand and your plan. Crossed arms, needy pussy and all.

What a man.

What a fucking man.

You squeeze your thighs together.

When he turns away from the kitchen, you leap to the counter. You snatch the mask and gaze at it lovingly. Such an innocent thing, and it made you this hot and bothered. You shake your head at the bizarreness of it all, but your smile remains.

"What the fuck were you doing here?"

You gasp at the sternness in his tone, hiding the mask under your armpit similarly like he did with his helmet downstairs. You don't understand where his abrupt austerity stems from, but it makes your legs wobbly, so much that you bump into him as you hurry to see what he sees, grabbing his arm as if to say sorry. And then your heart drops.

A round wet spot adorns your dark green couch, where you sat and pleasured yourself before he came. Your best friend Pinkie, sticky and lifeless, almost beams at you in mischief. A smile of your own begins to quiver on your lips before you burst into giggles, a tiny amount of shyness painting your cheeks with rosiness.

“I was practicing?” you answer truthfully, lilting your voice a little bit.

Jeongguk closes his eyes at your words, his lips forming a thin line. Hangs his head. Slouches in your grip. It is a stark contrast to how he entered your apartment. His breath quickens and you watch the raise and the fall of his chest. You realize this means only one thing.

"Are you crazy?" Jeongguk says, eyes still closed. "Do you even realize what you've just done to me?"

He finally looks at you and your heart drops further down your belly. Fire splashes around in his eyes, akin to yours. He straightens his posture, turning his body to face you. Feet spread apart, he crosses his arms across his chest. Veins prominent, muscles like strings oscillating on his forearm as he taps his fingers on his elbow.

Your weakness.

Fuck.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"And what's this?" He points to what you stole from him. He doesn't take it from you.

You suddenly remember your plan. Being so absorbed in his masculine energy, you forgot everything. Even your own name. 

"Well, I had this idea," you start.

He hums in interest. Butterflies break havoc in your stomach.

"And what idea was that?" He cocks his head to the side, studying you.

You started, but you don't think you can finish. Not when you're so wet that you can feel your slick trickle out of the confines of your thin panties. Not when his stance makes you feel like you did something very bad and the next word that comes out of your mouth decides your punishment. Not when it thrills you this much.

Swallowing dryly, you avert your gaze. Do you say it or do you play dumb? Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, eyes falling to his crotch. Those cursed fucking jeans do a poor job of hiding his growing member and you tremble, itching to sink onto the hardwood floor, itching to palm him through the harsh fabric just to hear him hiss through his teeth. The impulse to do it, to simply be a brat and do what you want while he stares you down, fills your every vein, but you know better. Once you hit a nerve, Jeongguk doesn’t let you cum (at all) and you can’t sit on your bottom for a week. You can’t afford that right now.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You need your relief, and you need it desperately. You will behave if it means you’ll receive it from him.

"I was thinking," you mutter, fluttering your eyelashes open. “You could put this on while I make you feel good."

Nodding once, Jeongguk hums again. You feel the deep vibrations of his voice coursing down your body, starting from your cheeks. They warm them and paint them in pink, then they continue over the swell of your chest, leaving behind little pearls of sweat, until they reach your cunt. There they strengthen the pulse of your needy bud and you can’t take it anymore. You sigh audibly, hoping it prompts your boyfriend to do something. 

“Make me feel good how?” he questions you.

You look up at him. His eyes are lowered into slits, woozy from arousal. You truly did turn him on with the mere evidence of your self-indulgence. You buzz from this achievement, a puckish smirk appearing on your mouth. 

Jeongguk pries the mask away from your hold, keeps it in his grasp and with his other hand, he unravels the knot of your robe with his fingers, sliding it off your shoulders. He cocks his eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer.

Fuck it, you’re giving it your all. Anything to get fucked in the way you want, in the way you know he can give it to you.

“I get on my knees for you. Play with your tip, take you as far as I can until I choke on it, then I suck on your—“

He grabs your chin harshly and raises it to his level. That’s enough, he said with that gesture and you leak down your thighs. No matter how strongly the words, ‘can I finish my fucking sentence’ hangs off the top of your tongue, you remain quiet. Obedient.

He cups your pussy through your pajama pants with his other hand, inching closer to you until his figure swallows you. His soft moan reaches your ear once he discovers how slippery your pussy is against your silky underwear and your stomach flips. You, on the other hand, don’t feel much where you need him due to the thickness of the material. It adds to your frustration quite plenty, though. This what you get for being good? 

Inhaling deeply, he levels his eyesight with yours. “How many times did you come, hm?”

Your breath hitches and you lower your eyes, shyness caused from his dominance taking every bit of confidence you had left. His words blaze your insides—he knows you so well. He knows how obsessed you’ve become with playing with yourself ever since he told you to practice. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The latter being more frequent, hence why you exerted yourself today. He knows this. For some reason it makes this moment even more intimate and stimulating for you. But you don’t let him know that. 

“What makes you think I lost this time?” you retort, the brattiness slipping through before you could control it.

His fingers aren’t doing nearly enough to give you the relief you seek and you whine, grinding your hips against his curious fingers. Much to your dismay, he still keeps his pressure light. Pretends to be blind to your desperation. You let out a huff of air, hooking your thumbs beneath the waistband of your pants, anger fueling you on.

You barely manage to pull it down before Jeongguk turns you around. He locks your arms in his grasp from behind, tugs the pants beneath the swell of your ass and smacks your cheek, leaving a rippling effect in its wake. He then grabs your face from behind to make you look at him. 

“Did I fucking ask you to take ‘em off?”

You’d come on the spot if you could. But you’re still angry.

“No, I asked you a simple question,” Jeongguk continues. “And I expect you to answer.”

You bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows. “Jeongguk, I’m so wet there’s a fucking puddle in my panties. I can’t take it anymore. Please, I need to come.”

Jeongguk raises his at your answer and hums lowly, grinding his hips into your ass and arching your back even further in this position. You moan distinctly at the feeling of his member, engorged and hard. 

Jeongguk lets go of your arms and presses you against him fully, lowering his hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, the other around your middle. You love it like this the most, cocooned in his embrace from behind—you can’t see him, but you can feel him, you can feel the firmness of his touch, the solidness of his body, and you know he’s there. 

“How many times?” he asks once again, more gently this time, lips tracing the shape of your ear. He rubs your belly to soothe you and you close your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A smile, a mischievous one, much like the one your best friend Pinkie had, threatens to appear on your lips. He has turned into a soft dom for you and it makes you weak. So much that all you want to do right now is give him pleasure.

You begin to rotate your hips against him and he hisses, cursing under his breath. Yes, that’s precisely what you wanted to hear. You put more pressure into your movement and he slides your hand down your mound to stop you, his tongue coming to play with your ear.  Fuck, okay. You listen, transferring your teasing elsewhere.

“Zero,” you finally answer, figuring he deserves the reward.

Jeongguk grabs your shoulders and turns you around, pinching his eyebrows together. “Don’t believe you. There’s no fucking way you’d leave it wet like that without coming at least three—“

“I was about to come before you so rudely interrupted me.”

His eyes darken and you realize you fucked up.

He takes his hands off of you and starts walking, causing you to walk backwards to your couch. 

“My apologies.” He pushes you to sit down on the soiled spot, taking a seat right in front of you on the coffee table. “Don’t let me interrupt you any further. Please“—He hooks his fingers under your pajama pants along with your underwear and takes it off in one go—“continue. Make yourself come.”

You gulp. Fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing you ever heard.

He scoots closer to you on the coffee table and extends your legs over his. You ogle him. The manspread, the tent in his pants, the serious look on his face. You slip your hand to your clit and start rubbing, your eyes closing as pleasure floods you. Finally. You moan, and you moan loudly. 

“Nuh-uh.”

You sigh before you open your eyes. There he goes, interrupting you again. A familiar buzzing fills your ears. 

You startle as the highest setting tickles your hand in an uncomfortable way. Jeongguk, wearing the mask now, wraps your hand around the vibrator and guides it to your clit, interlacing his fingers with yours in the process. Fuck, he did not just do that. You’re moaning before it even reaches you, your walls clenching around nothing.

“There you go,” he lifts his intense gaze from your pussy to your eyes. “Now come.”

And you do.

You squirt all over your intertwined hands, squirming uncontrollably while holding eye contact with him until he controls you, sliding his other free hand to your waist to hold you down. He moves the vibrator to your slit to give your puffy clit a break, collecting your juices. Then, another wave comes: Jeongguk slips the head back to your clit and presses down hard before quickly fixing a steady rhythm of going up and down. You’re just holding it, holding his hand. Taking the pleasure he gives you. Convulsing, clenching and screaming, coming so hard your eyes roll back—stars finally coming to stay.

Then, you’re pushing him away when overstimulation perfuses your body with a blunt pain. You close your legs. You thrash with yourself. But he’s stronger. The hand that was on your waist lifts up your bralette and uncovers your tits. The same fingers plunge into your mouth and you suck on them, calming down, earning an appreciative hum from him. He flicks your nipple, touches your breast, the nub deliciously rubbing against his rough palm. Pushes your other one to the mix so he can focus on both of your nipples at once, holds them like that as they bounce in his grip. You lift your pelvis, furiously riding the wave of an upcoming orgasm that will probably take you out.

You lose the sense of time and space when you come for the third time.

You’re gushing, leaking, bursting, both hands—yours and his—dripping wet with your dewiness. You think you’re levitating, but his firm touch grounds you, and when you open your eyes, Jeongguk is breathing hard. He’s watching you thoroughly; you can’t tell what he’s thinking, features still hidden by that mask. Your mind is empty, incapable of forming one coherent thought. You’re completely brainless. Fucked out.

Jeongguk gets on his knees and leans towards you. He tears his mask off, sweat pooling at his hairline.

“How pitiful,” he smiles. “So much for practicing.”

He gives you a filthy kiss full of tongue and you roll your body against his. His chest rubs against your nipples and it sends sparks of electricity through you. 

“You wouldn’t last. Not a chance.”

You groan into his mouth. He’s so close that his musky scent is intoxicating you, his T-shirt is wet and your core is pressed against the one part of his stomach that the cloth exposed. It’s so warm and soul-stirring to you. You whine from the overstimulation of it all, especially the degradation. 

“Jeongguk, I came so hard,” you tell him, coming up for some air.

He kisses your jaw. “I know. So fucking hot.” Takes his groans and presses them in the form of kisses into all the sensitive spots of your neck. “You made yourself come this hard, I’m proud.”

You moan. So moonstruck. So enamored. So satisfied.

Jeongguk lifts his head from the crook of your neck and grins at you. You reciprocate.

“That was so good,” you whisper and bite your lip, stroking his hair back. You find you’ve broken the skin already, but you don’t mind. “So, so good.”

His eyes drop to your mouth, then at the pearls of your pleasure on your chest.

“So filthy. Need to clean you up.”

Your stomach flips. 

He laps them up, collecting them with his tongue. One at the top of your sternum, the middle of your breasts, the long dip on your stomach. Pearl after pearl, butterfly after butterly breaking havoc again in you. You’re swaying your hips before he even gets to your mound.

“Needy again? I haven’t finished here yet.”

A little, but not as desperately as before. You’re enjoying it. Feels as though you’re allowed to. And you tell him.

He smiles. Starts a series of open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh. Sighs against your skin when you play with his hair, gently scratch his scalp with your manicured nails. Rubs your wet thighs, sucking the skin and biting it. Hard and soft, the blend of it. You’re on cloud nine.

“Gonna reward you,” he announces. You suck in your stomach, biting your lip. He touches your cunt and the digits just glide. Straight to your hole that needs his cum. “For doing such a good job. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He rubs it in circles, teasing you. Watches your reaction. You throw your head back, moving your hips in tandem with the pads of his fingers. Soaked enough, he slips them into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You mewl. Sense his hot breath on your pussy. Sense him shifting in his spot erratically and you figure he’s grinding his hard cock against the couch. 

“My turn now.” 

He closes his puffy lips around your clit. Swirls the tip of his tongue around it. Merry go round, you throw your head back, enjoying the sensation. Then he puts pressure around the muscle and goes counterclockwise. Now you’re spinning, unable to stop the sounds, inter-threaded with his name, from slipping out of your mouth. Then he decides to tease you. Widens his laps of circles. Reaches your folds, makes them wetter. And it makes you feral, the waiting for the pleasure. You grip his hair, grinding into his face. His moans reach your ears again, and suddenly it’s too much. He sucks on your clit, and he sucks hard. Lifts your hips in the air and just ravages your cunt, licking up and swallowing all that you’re offering to him as he fucks his cock into the couch. 

He’s grunting, rapidly shaking his head from side to side. You’re obscenely loud. His thrusts quicken as do the skilled flicks of his tongue. It’s way too fucking much and you’re screaming, but you let him. You let him until he rams his hips for the last time, until he sucks so hard that your hearing sense leaves you for a moment, and you’re coming. And so is he. 

You don’t even know how long it takes before you fully come down, but you know one thing for sure. That when he stands up and you’re blessed with the sight of his unbuttoned jeans, his cock dripping with last drops of cum through his white (almost see-through) underwear, he deserves to be cleaned up by you just the same. 

You make grabby hands at him when he returns with wet wipes.

“What is it, baby?” He sinks to his knees in front of you, taking out the wipe to clean you properly. 

“Need you in my mouth. Please.” 

He laughs softly and you think that sound will be your demise. 

“You’re exhausted,” he tells you, wiping down your folds. “What you need is sleep.” 

You don’t have the strength to prove him wrong. You’re spent. 

He picks you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He covers you in your fluffy blanket, knowing full well you hate to be under the duvet when you’re just napping. Tucks you in. Sits beside you. Brushes your hair back. Fixes the blanket so it rests under your chin, and not over your mouth. You watch him with droopy eyes as he does it all.

“Did so well today,” he murmurs. “But no overworking yourself so much next time, arasseo?”

You nod. “We came together again.” 

He traces the dimple on your cheek caused by your contended smile. Finds himself smiling too. “That’s just how our bodies work together,” he tells you, hovering his thumb over your bloodied lip so as to not hurt you. “Can’t be helped.” 

You nod again, warmth swarming in your chest. “I love it,” you admit. “I love you.”

Jeongguk presses a kiss into your hair. “No, I love you.”

“No.”

He shushes you. “Sleep well, baby,” he strokes you. Kisses you. Pets you. Can’t get enough. Hates to leave you. “My baby, my love, my girl.” 

You hum. Sleep slinks you away to its land, smile remaining on your mouth. 

Jeongguk returns to your living room and gets some cleaning supplies ready. Breaks a sweat making your dark green couch spotless. Takes a shower. Settles beside you on the bed. Cocoons you in his arms. Looks for you in dreamland.

© 2023 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[grogwrites]

Stranger - O.P. 81

Part One

part one • part two • part three

Summary: When someone returns to Oscar’s life after years apart, he has a hard time finding common ground with her to reconcile the feud between them. That is, until she signs on as a driver for the upcoming F1 season. Then he can’t seem to get her out of his mind.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Female OC

CW: Dual POV series, but part one is all in Oscar’s POV. Part one has some swearing, alcohol consumption, death of a parent which leads to OC becoming an orphan, a lot of angst. This series will contain a lot of angst, and some references to PTSD and death of a loved one—each topics very close to me personally. PTSD is a difficult thing to write and to read, so please take my warnings seriously before continuing on xx

A/N: this is part one in a three part mini series! As usual, I do not use YN on my page, so OC is a named character 😊

Word Count: 4.6k

* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

TWELVE YEARS AGO

The first time Oscar saw her was when he was eleven. The race tracks near his house were having a karting event for young drivers, so naturally, his parents signed him up. It was a windy December day, and Oscar’s frustration was at about a ten. He fidgeted with his race suit, as the new material scratched against his skin, overstimulating him with every slight movement that was made. She had been watching him, unbeknownst to Oscar, and made her way over.

“What are you doing?” The young girl demanded from him as he tugged at the collar of the suit. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. She was driving with the league below him, so she was younger by at least a few years. In eleven years old Oscar’s mind, he didn’t know what could’ve possibly possessed a second grader to antagonize a sixth grader. But he was annoyed at the scratchy lilt her that voice contained. He was at the age right now where girls were gross—she was gross.

“What’s it to you?” He barked back. “Don’t you have a race to worry about?” It shocked Oscar when she swept her hand forward, yanking his hand away from the zipper that was currently rubbing against his neck. What surprised him even more was the amount of strength in her tiny hand as her grip tightened around his wrist.

“Stop messing with it,” she hissed. “You’re going to make it worse, you know.” He ripped his arm out of her grasp, then sneered down at her. She had light blonde hair that could’ve been mistaken for white with how bright it was. It was tied back in a small ponytail that was draped over her shoulder—her eyes a vibrant blue, which seemed to accompany the bright pink racing suit she wore.

“You’re, like, what? Five?” Oscar mocked. “What do you know about karting?” The girl took a step back, as if to assess him—to study him. Even if she was younger, she had an overwhelming sense of authority. He shifted uncomfortably as her gaze burned holes through him. Her bossiness and straightforward nature intimidated him slightly. He had never been a confrontational person—he actually tried to avoid it at all costs, usually. If his friends knew some seven or eight year old was getting at him like this, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I know I’m smart enough to wash a suit before wearing it for the first time,” she quipped. “Wearing a brand new suit without breaking in the material is stupid, moron.” Before Oscar could argue with the kid, she turned around and stomped back to her league. His eyes widened at the fact that she just blatantly insulted him. Moron? What normal person even used that term?

As the hours passed, Oscar found himself curious at who the fiery young girl was. After he finished his race, he found himself looking for her at the tracks. When he realized her league was up, he pushed his way towards the front of the crowd to watch her. His eyes eagerly scanned for her prominent pink suit, when he realized she was in the lead. She was fast, too. For being so young, the way she controlled the car was incredible—it was like she was a machine. The crowd seemed to think so as well, as each time she passed by, they were erupting in applause. One man in particular, was cheering like crazy. Oscar looked up, tapping on his arm. The man looked down to him, and smiled. He wore square-framed glasses that laid low on his nose. His hair was dirty blonde, and he wore a pink sweatshirt that correlated with her race suit.

“You won in the league earlier this morning!” The man happily observed. “Congratulations, Mr Piastri.” Oscar frowned.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I’m Simon Nguyen,” the gentleman introduced. “I went to school with your mother, Nicole.” Oscar nodded slowly, ignoring what he said, then pointed to the track.

“Who is the girl in pink?” He questioned. The man, Simon, laughed at Oscar’s curiosity. He turned to the track again, where the girl sped past once more. He knelt down to his level, pointing to her.

“That is my daughter, Claire,” he explained. His voice was comforting. He spoke about her with so much pride. “She said she met you earlier. She has trouble with manners sometimes, but we’re working on it.”

Oscar turned with Simon to watch the race come to an end, with Claire leading the way. He wondered how he had never met her before at these events, or why his mom never mentioned Simon. But regardless of the questions that seemed to spiral in his head, all he knew was he wanted to be better than her. He hoped that he would get to race one day against her, and show that he knew what he was doing—especially since she seemed to think otherwise.

.

As Oscar hung the last ornament in the box on their tree, he heard the doorbell echo through their house. His sisters continued decorating with miscellaneous supplies such as garland or lights, while he climbed off the chair he stood on, hurrying towards the door. His dad was playing some soft Christmas music in the background, sorting through old photos by the fireplace. The smell of turkey lingered in the air. Christmas was Oscar’s favorite time of year, and he was excited to see who all would be joining them tonight. The Piastri’s hosted a great dinner every year on Christmas Eve—a family exclusive tradition.

“I got it, mom!” He called through the house. He quickly unlocked the door, then opened it. While he was expecting his grandparents or his cousins, he was quite taken aback seeing Simon and Claire standing there. Claire’s hair was down, and she wore a red velvety Christmas dress. She held on to a bag full of presents. Simon smiled.

“Hello again, Oscar,” he beamed. “You look nice.”

They weren’t family. They weren’t supposed to be here tonight. Oscar furrowed his eyebrows as he let go of the door handle.

“Mom!” Oscar called over his shoulder. “The Nguyen’s are here?” It was supposed to be a statement, but Oscar couldn’t hide his confusion very well. He didn’t know why they’d be here. Sure, Simon said he knew his mom, but he didn’t think it was well enough for them to come over for their family Christmas Eve. Claire would just ruin it, probably. She already has by being here.

His mom appeared quickly, and seemed to grow excited when she saw them. The rest of his family—his sisters and his dad—hurried in to say their hello’s. Claire even reciprocated, and ran towards his mom. Oscar’s chest grew hot with anger. Who were these people to just barge in on their traditions like this?

“Hi Claire Bear!” His mom exclaimed, engulfing the bratty girl in a hug. She picked her up, and pushed some of the hair out of her face. “You look beautiful, darling!” Claire was giggling as her arms wrapped around his mom’s neck, hugging her back. He had decided he’d seen enough, and hurried over to her.

“Mom who are they?” He blurted. “This is supposed to be family only.” Nicole laughed as she set Claire down again, then tussled his hair. She knelt down to look at him, and he felt guilty for being so rude. But at the same time, he felt like he had every right to be upset. Change didn’t suit him well.

“Simon is a very good friend of mine,” she explained gently. “They don’t have any other family, Oscar. They just moved here from South Korea, and I thought it would be nice that they joined us.” Oscar didn’t even know where South Korea was. He had fallen asleep during geography when they were learning about other countries. He watched as his mom stood up straight again.

“We met Oscar at the tracks a few weeks ago,” Simon commented. “He’s become quite good, Nicole. Not long until he makes his way to Formula 1, huh?”

Oscar’s rage suddenly dwindled at the stranger’s remarks. Now, he felt proud. He thought Oscar was good enough for Formula 1? His frown twisted into a smile as he watched his mom lead Simon into the kitchen to drop off their bags. His gaze lingered over to Claire. She folded her arms across her chest, staring back at him.

“We’re friends now,” she claimed confidently, taking a few steps towards him. “Our parents are friends, so that means we are.”

“That’s not how that works,” he scoffed. “But you’re still young, so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not much older,” she reminded him. Her arms fell to her sides, as she grabbed ahold of his wrist again. This time, with a much more gentle touch than she did at the tracks. “I brought something to show you. Your mom said you’d like it.” She turned, then marched the two of them into the living room where their bag full of presents sat. She let go of him, then knelt beside it. Oscar watched her intently as she rummaged through everything, when she pulled out two brand new remote control cars. His eyes widened. He had always wanted one, but his mom made him put it on his Christmas list. She found any excuse to not buy him one, despite his numerous attempts at asking for one.

“No way!” He exclaimed as she passed one to him. It was a shiny monster truck that had black and orange flames along the sides. His read THE DESTROYER, her’s read THE TERRORIZER. His eyebrows raised in amusement. “But girls don’t like these kinds of things.”

“Girls can like them too,” she remarked, as she flipped the switch to turn hers on. “Girls can like anything boys can, and boys can like anything girls can—just like how girls can race alongside boys, and boys can race alongside girls.”

Oscar had never really thought about it that way. He flipped the switch on his car, as her statement echoed in his mind. All of his friends at school were boys, so he didn’t really think about the fact that girls could like anything they liked. As they began racing their cars around the living room, he heard Claire laughing beside him. A grin flitted across his face, as he thought that maybe being friends with her wouldn’t be so bad.

.

FIVE YEARS AGO

It was raining outside. Oscar hated the rain, now. He figured Claire probably hated it just as much as he did, if not more. He was worried when she hadn’t cried all day—like all of her tears were gone, and replaced with a dormant, numb feeling in her heart. She exhaled next to him, as if she had been holding in a breath that she forgot about. He knew he should do something, or say something. But ultimately, he knew regardless of what he did or said, nothing would help. Simon was dead, and Claire was an orphan now.

The casket at the front of the church was closed. Oscar was grateful, because it made him sick to see Simon there—lifeless; he was always anything but. He quickly became a second father to him, much like how his parents became second parents for Claire. His mom told him yesterday that she would be living with them for a while, until her aunt could make it up from South Korea to take her back there. South Korea—away from him. He couldn’t really fathom not seeing her every day anymore. She had become so regular in his life and now she’s just…leaving. Just like how Simon was gone before any of them could blink.

The pastor droned on about how death is a celebration, when he heard Claire scoff beside him. He looked down at her, and saw a few tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. He tentatively reached out, taking her hand in his. He heard her catch a breath in her throat. She didn’t initially hold his in return, until he felt her nerves relax as her fingers curled around his hand. He gave hers a light squeeze, before looking towards the front again. He leaned over slightly.

“I’ll be celebrating when this funeral is over,” he whispered jokingly. This elicited a laugh from Claire—a genuine one—that made him smile. It was the first time he had heard her laugh in weeks since the car crash.

“You and me both,” she whispered in response, giving his hand a squeeze.

After the funeral and the burial, Oscar seemed to lose sight of Claire at the reception. He sat beside his parents and his sisters, as they all recounted memories of Simon and Claire. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he didn’t even have to look to know who it was. Her nickname flashed across the screen.

Bear: where are you?

Oscar quickly excused himself from the table, then exited the reception hall. He wandered outside of the church, where Claire was sat on the sidewalk. It was still raining, so her hair and clothes were soaked. He wondered how long she had been out here, and worried she was going to get sick. She probably didn’t care about it, though. There wasn’t much she seemed to care about nowadays. He shrugged off his suit jacket, then wrapped it around her. He sat beside her.

“Life is a bitch,” she muttered. He was quiet, just being there to listen for now—in case she had anymore to say. She looked over to him. “I turned in my racing gear yesterday.”

Now he was officially worried. She was quitting racing? That was incredibly unlike her. No matter what was going on in her life, she always turned to the track to escape whatever was dragging her down. Now she was just…throwing it all away. She had plans to go into F3 with him—she was about to be signed, too.

“Why?” He finally spoke, though his singular word was strained. He hated seeing her so…lost. Claire was always so sure of herself—always so confident. And now she was here beside him just…defeated.

“What’s the point anymore?” She countered. “Dad taught me to race, Osc. He’s dead now. There isn’t much in South Korea for me to pursue for racing, so why bother?” In a weird way, he was relieved that her bluntness hadn’t completely dissipated despite the depression she was going through right now. Still, hearing her say the word ‘dead’ so nonchalantly felt a bit like a punch to the gut.

“Because you love it?” He suggested. He felt himself growing defensive. He couldn’t just sit and watch her ruin her own life. “Because it’s all you’ve ever known? Throwing it away because you feel this way now isn’t going to help you. It’s going to make things worse.”

“I can’t—“ she stopped, then sighed frustratedly. She carded a hand through her wet hair before continuing, “I can’t drive in the rain, Osc. Not when I know that dad died in the same conditions. He was a professional driver, and if he can’t withstand it then I’m scared I won’t be able to, either. I’m just scared.” She finally looked over at him, meeting his gaze. Oscar could’ve sworn that his heart was about to break seeing how much hurt was in her eyes right now. He wished he could take all of it away; anything to make her feel better.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he said gently, taking her hand again. “But fear has never stopped you before. You’re the most badass person I know, Bear. Why let fear control your life now, when you’ve never allowed it to do so before?”

That was when she started crying. For the first time in several days, she broke down. Oscar wasted no time pulling her in for a hug. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, as her whole body seemed to shake from the fit. He had never heard her cry this hard before, and it was difficult for him to keep his own composure. He blinked away his own tears as he softly rubbed her back.

“I’m so mad at the world,” she admitted in between sobs. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Oscar whispered in her ear. “Life just has a cruel way of playing out, sometimes. You didn’t do anything.”

She didn’t respond to him after that, but she didn’t need to. Oscar held on to her tightly as she continued crying, with the rain lightly falling on them. He closed his eyes, allowing a few tears to escape from his own eyes. Things were hard now, but he knew they would push through this. They always did—Simon would want them to not dwell on this, and he knew that. He just hoped and prayed that she knew that too.

.

FOUR YEARS AGO

“F2 Champion has a nice ring to it,” Claire hummed, as Oscar greeted her after the ceremonies. He looked down at the trophy in his hands, basking in his accomplishment.

“I guess it’s okay,” he shrugged sarcastically as he met her gaze again. He could tell she was trying to hold back a smile, but her own happiness betrayed her as it hinted in the corners of her lips. “I’m happy you could be here, you know.”

Now the smile was gone, and his friend shifted uncomfortably. Neither of them wanted to address the elephant in the room. They didn’t have the heart to, anyways. A year without Simon was difficult enough, but now she was leaving him, too. Oscar had researched South Korea. Seoul is over five thousand miles away from Melbourne. It made him sick the first time he read that.

“You know, um,” she cleared her throat as she began playing with the sleek, satin ribbon on her waist. Her dress looked beautiful tonight—pink had always been her color. He wasn’t sure he had really ever seen her like this before—so polished. So mature. He couldn’t recall when she grew up so fast. “My aunt said that you’re welcome to come and stay anytime and she has this really cozy spare room that—“

“Can we…not talk about you leaving?” Oscar interjected. He felt quite rude for saying it, but for one night he just wanted to feel like things were normal. They haven’t been normal since Simon died, and he wanted to spend time with his best friend without talking about something upsetting.

“I don’t want to talk about it just as much as you,” she replied, her expression twisting into one of hurt and disappointment, “but it’s reality, Osc. I’m leaving tomorrow. We can’t keep pushing it off and pretending that in twelve hours, I’ll still be in the room across the hall from you.”

It felt like she had stabbed him just then. Her reaction utterly wounded him. Having his best friend only fifteen feet away from him at all times was the best year ever—but she was right. She wouldn’t be there anymore. She would be almost eighteen hours away.

“I just wanted things to be normal for one night,” he replied softly. He set his trophy down by their feet, then stepped towards her. “I’m not ready to say goodbye, Bear.”

“We have to,” she took a step back, which only hurt him even more. “I’m not staying with you guys tonight. I, um, packed my things before I came here.” It was Oscar’s turn to feel disappointed—to feel hurt. Why wouldn’t she tell him sooner that she wouldn’t be there tonight? They told each other everything…or, used to, anyways.

“So that’s it?” He argued, his voice raising slightly. Nobody at the banquet seemed to be paying attention, though. “You’re just throwing me away? Throwing our friendship away like that? Why didn’t you tell me you wouldn’t be at home tonight?”

“I wanted you to enjoy your ceremony,” she gestured to the trophy on the ground. “I’m not throwing us away, I’m just facing the truth. You can’t live in your cocoon of delusions anymore—“

“God forbid I wanted to enjoy my time with you, Claire,” he angrily interrupted. He hadn’t used her real name in a few years. She had always been Bear to him, and he watched now how this affected her, with her stumbling away from him slightly. He sighed, running a hand through his hair; his tone softer. “It’s not a delusion. I just…don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I didn’t want tonight to be ruined by talking about it.”

When Claire didn’t respond, he knew he fucked up. When she backed up more, was when it solidified that he royally fucked up. He tried to reach for her, but she pulled away.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night, then,” she whispered, but her voice still wavered despite the lowered volume. The way she punctuated the word ‘ruined’ crushed him. He shouldn’t have said that. “I, um, wish you the best, Oscar.” She began gathering her dress in her hands. He hurried after her.

“Claire, please,” he begged. He was struggling with choking back his tears. “Please stay. I’m sorry, I don’t want to leave on these terms.”

It was too late. When she looked at him one last time, he saw that familiar look in her eyes that told him everything he needed to know: her mind was made up. She was leaving, and their friendship was now tainted—if you could even call it a friendship, anymore. They both knew it had been strained since she quit racing, but tonight was the breaking point. Tonight confirmed for them that she was no longer Claire Bear, and he was no longer Osc. They were strangers, and that made him sick. What made him feel even worse was watching her leave, and him not running after her. He let her get away, and that was a regret he would live with for forever.

.

PRESENT DAY

“Alpine is signing on a rookie next season,” Lando announced, lounging back on the boat. The thing bobbed slightly in the water as the waves crashed against it. It was a beautiful day in Monaco, and Oscar could feel the heat from the sun beating down on his closed eyelids.

“They need to get in line,” Oscar joked before taking a swig of the beer bottle in his hands. “Haas is, too. And Mercedes. Alpine isn’t special in that endeavor.”

“I’d disagree,” Oscar could hear the smile in Lando’s voice. He opened his eyes to look to his friend, who was currently lazily scrolling on his phone. “Heard it’s a super rookie. She did some karting stuff as a kid, but didn’t even participate in F3 or F2. No one knows how she managed to get signed.”

“I guess perks of having money?” Oscar suggested, lying down again. “I mean, look at Stroll. He’s only signed cause his dad owns the damn team.” This elicited a laugh from Lando. He set his phone down, then stood up from where he sat. He finished off the remainder of his beer, then set the bottle by his feet.

Their summer break had been rather lazy, but Oscar couldn’t complain too much. Lazy was nice, especially since it’s been a whirlwind of a season so far. With Lando getting his first win in Miami and Oscar getting his first win in Hungary, the two were exhausted.

“Shit, look over there.”

Oscar sat up to see what Lando was gesturing to, where he saw a group of girls on the beach lounging around. They were a bit too far away to make out their faces, but he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Lando was often one to think with his dick. Oscar enjoyed gawking at the women in Monaco with him, but nothing ever lasted—nothing was ever genuine.

“You can’t even see their faces, dude,” Oscar grumbled. “All you see is their bikini colors.”

“Yeah, and I’m really liking the one with the baby pink bikini,” his friend whistled as he hurried behind the wheel of the boat. Oscar cringed slightly, mostly because pink was a color he hated now. Loathed, actually. Also, hearing the words ‘baby pink’ come from Lando’s mouth was nauseating. Regardless, he let him do his thing as he laid back down and closed his eyes once more. The engine of the boat turned, and he felt as Lando turned it around to begin steering it back to the docks. When it slowed in speed, he heard his friend hop off, and walk down the wooden boardwalk. He began chatting up the girls, with a few of them laughing cheekily at his cliche pickup lines. But one voice rang through Oscar’s veins furiously.

He thought he imagined it, initially. He hadn’t even thought about her for three years. Actually, he had forced himself to forget her completely when she stopped returning his calls. He chose to ignore it, but his heart betrayed him as it picked up speed.

“Lando Norris,” the familiar voice hummed in a flirtatious manner, “you’ve got a reputation, you know.” He heard Lando scoff. She sounded so much older, now.

“Remind me again?” Lando responded. He heard her step closer. He caught his breath. He knew the chair he was lounging on was blocked by the drivers seat of the boat, but if that voice came over here with Lando, he thought he’d probably puke.

“You sleep around,” she stated simply. There was an abrasiveness in her tone, one that practically confirmed it for Oscar that this was who he was afraid it would be. “You don’t call back, you can’t be tied down…tell me why I should go with you?”

Why would she be in Monaco? She had no ties here—or at least, she didn’t when he last saw her. She probably had an entirely new life, now. New friends, new hobbies, maybe even a new boyfriend…he didn’t realize he was panting until he grew lightheaded. This was anxiety, he knew it was.

“Maybe I want you to be the one to change my reputation?” Lando tutted. “Has anyone ever told you that pink looks really good on you?” The girl laughed, and Oscar wanted to cry. He hadn’t heard that laugh since Simon died. He forgot how intoxicating it was—how addicting she was to be around.

“I’m afraid I won’t meet your expectations,” she sighed as her laughter slowed. “I’m looking for commitment, Norris. Not a plaything.” Lando clicked his tongue in disapproval. Oscar could practically see him shaking his head, too. He had a routine when he flirted—one that Oscar had memorized by this point.

“One date,” Lando proposed, clearly feeling confident in his chances. “If you are still convinced I’m not serious, then you can block me and never call me back.” The last part made Oscar’s heart sting. He knew what it was like to be ghosted by Claire. Considering how practically unforgettable she was, he knew that her and Lando would be a recipe for disaster.

“Fine,” she said, giving in to his game. “But it has to be a real date.” Lando chuckled happily.

“Wonderful,” it was his turn to hum flirtatiously, now. “What is your name, darling?”

The next words out of her mouth knocked the air out of Oscar, “I’m Claire Nguyen.”

~

* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

©️ grogwrites, 2024

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

When They Know They're In Love ~ Frostheim Edition

I will be doing the other houses and will link them here once they're posted. I hope you like this and if you did, please feel free to send in requests for what you'd like to see.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Jin Kamurai, Thoma Ishibashi, Lucas Errant, Kaito Fuji x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How do the characters know they're in love and what will they do when they realise?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jin is not exactly the most in touch with his emotions. He knows he feels something around you. Does he think it’s some weird side effect of your ability or him using his stigma after so long? Absolutely.

It will take him a long time to figure out that what he’s feeling is actually love but when he does, it’s when you’ve finally snapped at his treatment of you.

You’re tired of being treated like a servant and you’re letting him have a piece of your mind.

And suddenly, his chest is tightening, and he’s got butterflies, and he realises just how beautiful you are.  How did he never notice this before?

It might take him a while longer to accept his feelings and pursue you properly but when he does, expect to be swept off your feet by the effort he puts in to making you feel just as strongly about him.

Thoma is a lot more observant than Jin. He’ll recognise his feelings almost straight away when he sees how hard you’re working both to get to know the ghouls and to break your curse.

He’s found a kindred spirit in your hard-working attitude. But he won’t act on those feelings for a while.

He’s busy with his own work and, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t think he could handle getting into a relationship with you, only for your curse to take you from him a year later.

I think it would take a life-or-death situation for him to confess. Something where he nearly looses you before the year is up and he realises he has to tell you how he feels before you’re gone.

Whether a relationship blooms from that is up to the two of you but Thoma’s a practical guy. Whatever you’re decision, he’ll make it work somehow.

Luca is an interesting case. I feel like he’s aware of his feelings about certain things but not others. Love is one of those things he’s not super aware of.

He knows how he feels about close family like his brother. But you? He just doesn’t register his feelings towards you as romantic at first.

He finally puts it together when he sees you asleep in the library, a book open in front of you with information relating to his brother’s situation.

The rush of affection he feels towards you in that moment is so strong, even Luca can’t misunderstand it as anything else. Now he just has to confess.

He won’t drag it out and will likely pull you aside next time he sees you. He’ll be perfectly gentlemanly and explain his feelings, as well as letting you know that any decision you make, he will accept.

Kaito is certainly in touch with his emotions, but I don’t think he would realise the depth of his feelings for a long time.

If you’re female presenting, he would just assume what he’s feeling for you is his usual affection towards women. If you’re male presenting, he’ll just assume you’re a really great friend.

He realises he’s in love with you when he gets a message from another person and realises the sinking feeling in his stomach isn’t a normal reaction.

Honestly, I feel like Kaito will be a bit freaked out by his feelings to start with. He’s not used to really caring about people and he’s not entirely sure where to start.

Once he does come to terms with his feelings and realises he wants to be with you as more than just a friend, he’ll do his best to up his game so you fall for him the same way he fell for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[solxamber]

Ramshackle, 4, fluff :]

You have very fun writings! Love to see what you end up doing for the event, make sure to take breaks and not to burn yourself out!

thank you so much!! and i will 🫶🫶

Fox in Denial || Fellow Honest

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "I'm NOT jealous" ; Genre: Fluff

The door creaked open as you stepped into the cozy, albeit cluttered, living space you shared with Fellow and Gidel. The scent of Gidel’s freshly made stew wafted through the air, and you couldn’t help but smile as you kicked off your shoes. “I’m home!” you called out.

“Finally,” Fellow said, lounging dramatically on the couch, his arm draped over the backrest like some stage actor caught mid-performance. “What, did you get lost on the way back? Or maybe you found someone else more fun to hang out with, huh?”

The mischievous glint in his eye made you laugh. “Oh, absolutely. I was swept away by an entirely different crowd of fox beastmen. They had better jokes than you, too.”

Fellow sputtered. “Excuse me?! Better jokes? No chance. My jokes are premium grade-A material!”

“Sure, sure.” You crossed the room, shrugging off your coat. Fellow was still staring at you, though his posture had shifted slightly. His tail flicked once, betraying his irritation.

Gidel, stirring the stew in the corner, raised a hand and pointed at Fellow with a snicker-like huff, his ears twitching in amusement.

“Don’t you start,” Fellow shot back at him before turning to you. “And I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking that,” you said, biting back a grin. “But now that you bring it up…”

“I’m not!” he insisted, sitting up straighter. His silver tongue seemed to fail him for a moment as his face flushed ever so slightly. “Why would I care if you—if you’re out there—uh, doing whatever?”

“Fellow, you’re literally fuming,” you teased, stepping closer. “Your tail’s all puffed up. Did Gidel have to stop you from pacing earlier?”

Gidel gave a soft wheeze that sounded suspiciously like laughter and nodded enthusiastically, earning a glare from Fellow.

“Traitor,” Fellow muttered under his breath before huffing loudly. “Well, fine! I might have been worried about you, okay? That’s perfectly reasonable. But jealous? No way. Not my style.”

“Not at all?” you pressed, moving to sit beside him. He froze slightly when you leaned in close, your face just inches from his. “Not even a little?”

“N-not even a—” He cut himself off with a squeak as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. His protests died in his throat as his whole body stiffened, his tail giving an embarrassed flick.

“You’re ridiculous, Fellow,” you murmured, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about me, okay? It’s always you I come back to.”

Fellow went utterly silent for a moment, his ears drooping just slightly as he slowly, awkwardly returned your hug. “Well… yeah, I mean, obviously,” he mumbled. “I am pretty great.”

Gidel made a loud, wheezing sound behind you, and you glanced over to see him holding his sides, shaking with silent laughter.

“What’s so funny?!” Fellow snapped, glaring over your shoulder. “I—this isn’t funny, Gidel! This is touching and heartfelt!”

You pulled back slightly to grin at him. “Touching and heartfelt, huh? Should I start writing it down for your future performances?”

“Don’t push your luck!” he exclaimed, though the flustered expression on his face betrayed him. His arms stayed wrapped around you a moment longer than necessary before he quickly let go and leaned back, trying to reclaim his usual swagger.

“Well,” he said with an exaggerated flick of his tail, “next time you’re late, maybe send me a letter or something. Gidel and I are busy people, you know. We can’t just drop everything to worry about you!”

Gidel pointedly rolled his eyes and shook his head, and you stifled a laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, leaning in to ruffle his hair. He squawked indignantly but made no real effort to stop you.

“I’m still not jealous!” he yelled as Gidel doubled over in silent laughter again.

“Sure you’re not,” you said with a grin, watching as Fellow tried and failed to keep a smug smile from tugging at his lips. Maybe he wasn’t that honest after all.

Masterlist

[n0tamused]

Hello there! I hope you’re doing good in terms of exams and remember to take breaks in between studying!!

I have a request but please feel free to leave it or skip over this one if you’re not up for it!

I was wondering if you could write how Jiyan and Aalto (separately) would react to soldier!reader who’s known to be always comforting others + helping people but in this situation finds the reader hidden somewhere and having a breakdown due to mental and physical exhaustion (but struggles to ask for help)?

A/N: Thank you anon, I try to keep that in mind at all times <3 And I hope you enjoy this!

Contents: angst to comfort fluff, panic attack, gn reader, not proof read

Jiyan:

Days have passed and what felt like years have built up in a tight ball that lodged itself in your throat, preventing the dusty, but much needed, air to fill your lungs. It has been days since it had begun to build up, but with hopes for a better tomorrow you swept it under the rug, letting it fester and multiply to each corner of your being until it had you shackled down onto the floor in this pitiful corner of ruins. The camp wasn’t too far off, you think through broken words flashing through your head, if they need me I’ll be able to hear them. Tears bubbled up to your eyes, stinging and burning. 

It’s been so long since you saw the city, smelled the flowers and felt the touch of your beloved, and nothing in the world could help you escape this feeling of the earth shattering under the soles of your feet. Your vision was blurry, mind spinning and lungs burning and burning. Rationale has long since left you, and you crumbled further, foolishly thinking of insignificant mistakes of your past.

Out of nowhere, a hand sprung up from the blurriness of the world, muddy waters of reflection caching color of teal and yellow and black as the hand grabs your shoulder. Fear engulfs you as you see General Jiyan standing in front of you, although your tears nearly blind you - you could never mistake the signature look of him. You could recognize him blind and deaf.

“J-Jiyan-” you choke, hiding your face away as ragged breaths wreck your body, the body that refused to stand up to greet him. You had no strength, no will. Your ears catch some muddled words and from the corner of your eyes you can see his mouth moving as he spoke, but none of them reach you. It’s hard. So hard to breathe and you’re shaking your head, wanting to ask for help but refusing to do so yet needing to be held.

This dilemma is written all over your face, your shaky fingers and Jiyan goes quiet, realizing the futility of questioning you, and instead he takes the matters in his own hands and sits beside you. His back pressed against the old, cold wall behind the two of you and one of his muscular arms finds its way around your shoulders, bringing you closer into him. Your body can’t resist, even if you wanted to, and it bends to his will, your arms reaching around him in some childish chase of comfort. If your mind was any more calm you would have felt embarrassed, ashamed.

Jiyan stays quiet for a while longer, simply holding you and lending you his company for as much as possible, hoping he or you aren’t called up. Just for a while longer, he says to himself. His hand rubbing up and down your back. As you slowly catch your breath and collect yourself he begins to speak, tone gentle and so full of warmth, he doesn’t want to let you go until you can stand on your own once more, and even then he’d be there to help you walk.

“Deep breaths, (Y/N)... It’s all right now, there’s no danger around us.. you’re safe..”

“You’ve been doing so much for others, yet you neglected yourself for even longer than that. You mustn’t do that…”

“I’m here to support you however I can, for now we can sit here for some time longer, until you’re sure you want to head out”

“Don’t rush yourself, and no need to be embarrassed. I find myself feeling the same as some times, but it is the thought of you that gets me through it all.. You’re human just like the rest of us. I’m here for you.."

Aalto:

What was supposed to be a simple run-in-and-out became much more complicated, the mission stretching on into the night and into the early mornings when the first lights pierced the belly of the sky. Your heart was ringing between your ears, drumming a haunting song that would have you exhausted for days to come. Had it been you alone, you would have considered turning back - no mission was worth losing your life over. But there were team members involved, all of them so close to you. How could you let them go alone, let them get hurt?

It doesn’t matter now. The mission was successful, yet you were still stuck in the memories from so many months ago? Get a hold of yourself - breathe.

Breathe.

I can’t - the little voice squeaks at the back of your head, full of tears and desperation as you walk home from duty. Your legs are barely carrying you up the steps that feel like a serpents winding body, one misstep and you’ll find yourself falling into its mouth. With a fuzzy mind you fight your way to the front door and fall in with stuttering steps, an invisible hand coming to grab you by the throat and choke you until you’re crumbling on the floor. The front door was left ajar for anyone to help themselves too, but that fact escaped you as you found yourself pressing into the foot of your couch, curled up and crying from exhaustion and the aching in your bones. All you can think of is how much more you could have done for them, how much you could’ve done for the mission. 

“(Y/N)? Hey-!” A voice calls from the void, scolding you, sharp and quick but echoing. It calls for you over and over again, and it is not until your body is being turned onto its back that you realize you’re not alone. “Are you alright? Hey, talk to me” The voice finally clears up. It’s not angry or annoyed, but so worried unlike your mind had made you believe. It’s not the voice of the captain but.. Aalto. 

Your eyes blink at him in quick successions, trying to rid themselves of tears while feeling more come up. His gloved hand is supporting the back of your head, the other one feeling your other arm up and down in attempts to comfort you. “Breathe.. breathe.. Come on, up to me, now” he says, gently pulling you up and despite his best attempts to make his tone more lighthearted, he fails miserably. Concern is evident, but he has way more reins on it.

He positions your forehead to rest against his shoulder, tugging your body closer until you are practically in his lap, his arms wrapped around you. “Breathe with me, come on.. in…..and out..” He coaches softly, rubbing your back and then carding his fingers through your hair, and as he feels you shift he lessens his hold - allowing you to slot yourself against him and wrap your arms around him in return. Slowly, Aalto begins to rock you back and forth, his tongue betraying him in this dire situation, so he hopes his presence is enough. After a while he tries to playfully scold you for this behavior, saying how you nearly had his heart stop when he saw you on the floor, but the undertones speak volumes of how seriously this affected him too.

“No, no, you’re not going anywhere yet. You need to take a breather - like I’ve been telling you to do so for months”

“Here, let me help you up. The couch is way more comfortable than the ground.. yeah- that’s it, good job, champ. You’re my champ, y’know?”

“How about I whip us something to drink, hm? You got nothing to worry about, I’ll have it all handled and ready before you can even think about it”

“Do you want to talk about it..? I know it all happened some time ago, but it is clearly holding you down. So tell me what’s on your mind, I’m all ears. You know I can help, in one way or another- but I need to..”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[spooky-bunnys]

Title: The Fire Daredevil PART 1

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Shinichiro x M.Reader

Warnings/Notes: The first part of this was written by my friend @caffine-goth-moth, and I'm writing this small series for his graduation present since I can't do anything else for him.

In the Sano household everyone is waking up to the sound of running, cleaning bottles being squirt on every surface, window wiping and brooms being swept on every floor.

Mikey being the one who loves to sleep, is annoyed and wakes up to see his older brother Shinichiro cleaning the entire house like a mad man, he’s covered in sweat, and desperation.

“Dude it’s 5 in the morning why are you up….and acting like a germaphobe?” Shinichiro who has a feather duster in his mouth, cleaning a window with one hand and scrubbing the floor with his foot stops and looks at Mikey and muffles something, “what?” Mikey is just staring at Shinichiro more confused than before.

Shinichiro who spits out the feather duster “my boyfriend is coming over I gotta make sure the house is spotless” he resumes to cleaning.

Everyone else is awake to the cleaning noise, Grandpa sano who was busy doing his crossword puzzle, rolls up the newspaper and whacks Shinichiro over the head “damn you Shinichiro your siblings and friends are trying to sleep, I’m trying to do my crossword puzzle."

Shinichiro covers his head to avoid getting hit, “okay okay I’m sorry it’s just I really want to make a good impression on my boyfriend he’s coming over and I can’t mess it up?”

“You have a boyfriend?!” Said Emma

Benkei (the only one with logic) who is looking soo confused “your boyfriend shouldn’t worry if the house is clean, you just have to make sure it isn’t messy….like your room."

Shinichiro then gasp realizing his room isn’t clean, he carries every cleaning supplies he has, and runs to his room.

Everyone just sighs and shakes his head, then they hear the doorbell ring.

Grandpa sano opens the door, (Name) who is dressed in his daredevil jacket uniform bows to grandpa sano in respect “good morning is Shinichiro sano here?”

Before grandpa sano can respond, everyone is greeted with Mikey, draken and baji screaming and yelling “IT’S (NAME) (LAST NAME) AKA THE FIRE DAREDEVIL!”

The screaming cause Shinichiro who was still cleaning to drop everything and running thinking Mikey and the others got here “I’M HERE WHOS HURT?”

(Name) immediately gasps and throws himself in Shinichiro's arms. "BABE! I'VE MISSES YOU!" The others could only watch frozen as Shinichiro soaked in the kisses given to him.

The first one to move was Mikey who almost completely jumped onto the couple if not for Draken who grabbed his gang leader just in time. Shinichiro smiled widely, loving the affection being given to him. "(Name)! I knew you'd be here early but I didn't think you'd be here until at least 6 or 7! Its not even 5:30 in the morning!"

(Name) smiled sheepishly and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. "Well I remember you saying you wish you could come to my race one day. So I got my old man to invite you and your family to my race today!" Before Shinichiro could politely refuse, he was interrupted by his little brother and friends.

"Holy shit! Mikey you're brother is dating THE (NAME)! THE FIRE DAREDEVIL IS DATING YOUR BROTHER!" Baji roughly shook the once again frozen Mikey. Draken's jaw was on the floor again. "Y-You're inviting us to your race! Holy-" Draken joined in on shaking Mikey.

Benkei who had started to feel bad for the younger Sano male pulled him away. "Listen guys. He said Shin and his family. Not family and friends. So we wouldn't be able to join them anyways." The other two males sulk while Mikey breaking out of his thoughts cheered.

(Name) had turned towards the commotion and tilts his head. "You guys can come too. I don't have much family besides my dad and cousin. So my sponsor box is usually quite empty. But if you guys want to go to my race we'll need to head out now!"

Shinichiro couldn't get a say in anything because afyer that (Name) was ripped out of his arms by excited teenagers and even his own friends. As (Name) was dragged out by the teens and his overly excited grandfather. Benkei patted his back. "I just texted Wakasa and Takeomi. They'll be meeting us there." Shinichiro groaned loudly.

[targaryen-dynasty]

TO STOKE A FLAME.

Aemond Targaryen x servant!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, oral (m receiving), power imbalance (prince and maid), mutual pining, female Reader

WORDS: 4K

NOTES: this is written for the writing challenge hosted by @targaryenvampireslayer I got the prompt "Just relax for me, I'll make it feel good" and the trope mutual pining. This was my first time writing mutual pining, and I hope it's at least slightly fitting lol.

When you’re first assigned to cleaning the chambers of the King’s second son, your heart leaps for it means you are able to escape the tortures of being a scullery maid for a position that is at least a bit higher ranked, and not as ungrateful and strainful. 

Prince Aemond is an early riser, already up long before first light, and whenever he sets off to train with the sword in the morning, it’s time for you to take care of his quarters. 

There’s another maid that has been offered the same opportunity, only that she is in charge of making the chambers Prince Aegon presentable, and from what you have gathered, you wouldn’t want to trade places with her. 

Aemond’s chambers are always immaculate when you step into them. Everything is in its place, and the air is always filled with the cool morning breeze from the windows he’s kept open. Quite different to the quarters of his older brother. 

But what they do have in common are their questionable reputations. 

While Aegon is promiscuous, known to pinch and fondle at any serving girl who strays within his reach, Aemond is somewhat feared, at least among the staff. Most servant girls keep well away from the prince, and a part of you is certain it is solely because of the black eyepatch he dons after losing his eye, and the grim expression he usually holds on his face. 

The other maid that tends to his chambers with you is overly cautious when dusting or putting fresh linens on his bed, something that even makes you swallow thickly. However, you can’t seem to bring yourself to share their sentiment. 

How could you?

Despite only meeting the prince very briefly, you feel like every day that you sweep through his chambers, you get to know him more and more. If there’s bedlam following in Aemond’s wake when he leaves in the morning, it merely consists of several books scattered all over his desk, his armchairs and sometimes even his bed. 

Most of them deal with dragon lore, history, and a variety of other subjects which you wouldn’t expect to be read by any other lord, making clear that the prince is very well educated, and always strives to learn more. 

And though he keeps his chambers mostly spotless, there’s very much of his personality in them – if you read between the lines. 

More oft than not, the armchairs close to the fireplace don’t stand in their usual positions, turned to the side to face each other with one of them being piled by books or scrolls. And you know from the servants that he’s often found sitting beside the fireplace either in deep thought or engrossed in a book with the flames of the fire dancing in the corner of his eye. 

You’re cleaning his quarters all by yourself today for Darla, the other maid assigned, has been called to take care of something else, which means you’re granted slightly more time for Aemond’s chambers. 

Kneeling in front of the fireplace, you’re knocking off as much ash and debris as possible back into it, before some of it is swept up and emptied into the pail standing next to you. 

You’ve been a bit too engrossed in your task when the doors behind you burst open, catching you by surprise and startling you. There’s only one person that could and would enter the prince’s quarters at this hour of the day – the prince himself. 

As you hurry to get back on your feet, already straightening and dusting off the skirt of your maid attire, you’re a bit too quick and hit your head on the ledge of the fireplace, your mob cap falling to the ground in the process. 

It’s a stinging pain that shoots right through your whole body, and a throbbing that settles at the crown of your head. You bring a hand up to soothe the pain at least a bit, before you’re reminded of the reason why you got up in the first place. 

Gritting your teeth, you take in a sharp breath and lower your hand, bobbing a small curtsy with a strained ‘Prince Aemond’ leaving your lips to the man that stands still in the room, clearly regarding you.

“My apologies, I–” you say, trying to make excuses and wanting to state that you’re just about to leave, but he cuts you off. 

“Are you well?” he asks, though there is a lilt of amusement in his voice. “I apologize for startling you, that was not my intent.”

What’s even more unusual than him apologizing to you, a servant, for barging into his own chambers is that he's inquiring about your well-being. You’ve never before been acknowledged by any of the Targaryen’s, not that you expected it, and feeling his gaze on you kind of makes you nervous. 

He raises his brow when there doesn’t come an answer from you, and you take it as your cue to speak. “I–Yes, Prince Aemond,” you stutter, bowing your head. Raising it again, your hand brushes the crown of it briefly, the spot still throbbing despite it happening a few moments ago. “I am well. It’s–It’s nothing, my prince.” 

Gathering your things, you’re caught off guard for a second time since he’s entered his chambers as he slowly approaches you. He has a sympathetic smile on his lips now, and you’re not sure if it’s the embarrassment or him coming close enough to tower above you, but your body feels like it’s been put on fire. 

“Are you certain you’re well?” he asks, eye flitting from your head to meet your eyes. “You’ve struck your head rather hard.”

He reaches to inspect the spot on your head, yet he hesitates and pulls back right before his fingers could brush your hair. You’re slightly disappointed, but your pounding heart is grateful. Just the mere proximity brings a blush to your cheeks and has you shifting your weight from one leg to the other, and you’re certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle him touching you. 

There’s a moment of silence between you, and your hands clutch the handle of the pail tight enough for your knuckles to blanch from the force. It’s unnerving, and you’re torn between wanting to stay and wanting to leave. You’re afraid he’s not the man you’ve made up in your mind, that there’s just a hint of truth in the rumors that make their way around staff and court. 

His voice cuts through the silence like a sharp blade, smooth and somewhat calming. “What’s your name?”

Taking in a deep breath, you tell him your name, but not without your eyes darting to the ground. His gaze is heavy, too heavy for you to meet it, and you feel as though there’s something else than curiosity woven within it.

“You’re quite flustered over nothing,” he hums, and the way your name slips past his lips with so much ease almost makes you melt right then and there; at least it’s enough to make you forget that he’s clearly noticed the effect he has on you. 

Aemond takes note of you being nervous around him, his attention causing your blood to rush through your veins. It seems as though it’s a rather strong reaction that you have to him, something not many women feel when he comes near them. It’s endearing.

Your eyes flicker upwards to meet his good one again, and you straighten your back for another curtsy. 

“M-my apologies, Prince Aemond.”

You can spot the exact moment the corners of his lips curl into a teasing smirk, your timid demeanor and your nervousness the trigger for it. And being as cocky as he is, he thinks he could have a bit of fun with you. 

“It seems you’re rather out of sorts for something so trivial,” he notes, his tone teasing and playful, matching the flicker of mischief in his eye. “Perhaps I should inspect you myself to see if you have in fact sustained any injuries.”

His words make you feel as if the world around you is slowing down, making everything feel almost unbearable. You’re finding it incredibly hard to look him in the eye without blushing or your breath becoming heavy, and therefore fix them on the ground again. Noticing his large feet in comparison to your much smaller ones, your thoughts briefly stray to what else of him might be large. 

But before you can answer him, or your thoughts can dive deeper, Aemond places a hand beneath your chin and gently tilts your face back up for you to meet his gaze. You’ve only seen one other in passing, and even then you’re certain he’s paid no mind to you at all, so his touch comes unexpected. But you don’t tense, and you certainly don’t pull away. However, you’re unsure if you should give in and lean into it. 

His finger brushes along your jawline, trailing down the curve of your neck, and coming close to your collarbone, a heat following in its wake. He stops for a second, as if he’s debating whether or not he should move his touch any further. 

Aemond’s surprised by your reaction, yet he also realizes that you’re much more interesting than any of the other maids for they were all alike – all not daring to look at him or stay in his presence for longer than a few minutes. But you’re different. 

He could already tell by the way you so neatly clean and store his books when he’s spent his night reading by the fire, or how you seem to pay extra attention when you’re putting fresh linens on his bed, fluffing his pillows without the hurry the previous chambermaid has had. 

And seeing his touch having such a significant impact on you, the little maid he’s spent so much time dreaming and fantasizing about, feeds a desire he didn’t have before – the desire to bed you, to claim you. 

“Get on your knees,” he orders, hooded eye looking down at you. 

Swallowing thickly, your mind struggles to comprehend what he asked of you. “I-what?” you stammer in disbelief. 

“You heard me. On your knees.” He’s a bit firmer now, and uses the slight grip he has on your shoulder to give you a little help sinking down. You follow his lead, the pail rattling onto the ground. 

Your hands are folded in your lap when you gaze up at him, eyes wide and curiously studying his next move. With your thumbs brushing over each other, you try to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, grazing your skin to distract yourself from the throbbing that blossoms between your legs. 

Aemond looms over you, reaching out to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s something in the position you’re in, and the combination of his gentle touch and stern orders that gets to your head, and lures you in to lean into his hand. It also makes you a bit bolder as you place a hand on his thigh in return.

It piques his interest, obvious in the way he raises a brow, and his eye flickers to where your hand rests on his body. But he doesn’t shy away from the touch. 

“Do you know what I require of you?” Aemond asks, sterner than before. 

You bow your head, batting your eyelashes at him in an innocent manner. “I do, my Prince.”

That’s all he has to hear before he swiftly unlaces the front of his breeches and tugs them down barely enough to free his cock and stones, the sight alone making your breath hitch in your throat. He’s well endowed, and far bigger than the cock of the one man you’ve slept with before.

You release a shaky breath, replaying all the knowledge you’ve gathered about pleasuring a man with your mouth, and catch a whiff of musk mixed with the salty smell of sweat – he’s definitely trained with the sword this morning. 

Squeezing his thigh, your eyes flicker between his and his hard cock as the slight nod of his head encourages you to curl your hand around it, your thumb and index finger barely touching. 

He throbs in your palm already, and the tip is covered in a red that makes it clear he’s desperate to be buried inside of something; probably not caring whether it’s your mouth or your cunt.

Even though you cower beneath his dominating presence, a jolt of boldness strikes you that makes you lean in and lick a flat stripe from the base of his cock up to the bulbous tip. A salty taste lingers on your tongue as you drag it over the slit, making you hum appreciatively, seemingly pleased to witness the effect your touch and presence have on the prince’s body. 

Aemond buries his hands in your hair, loosening the bun you’ve put it into this morning, and grabs a fistful of it. It’s a sharp tug of him that catches your attention, and your wide eyes flit up to meet his demanding gaze. 

Spurred on by the heavy breaths moving his chest, you swallow, and eventually part your lips to slowly ease him inside, and even though he holds you by your hair, he’s generous enough to not force himself inside, allowing you to move as you please. 

“Fuck,” he growls as he gets accustomed to the warmth and tightness of your mouth, head tipping back to release a bawdy groan. 

You hollow your cheeks around him, and, after a few moments that allow you to adjust to him, start to bob your head back and forth his thick length, flattening your tongue against him for added stimulation. 

Growing bolder and bolder with each passing moment, you squeeze your thighs together every time the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, robbing you of the ability to breathe until you pull off of him again. 

With his hand in your hair, Aemond senses you getting more comfortable, and starts to guide your head along his member, encouraging you to set up a quicker pace to which you eagerly comply. 

“That’s it,” he groans, not able to tear his eye from the sight of your lips wrapped around him as his cock repeatedly disappears inside of your mouth.

Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your lips down your chin with how fast you sink down on him, and the lewd sounds of his soaked cock sliding back and forth past your lips fill the prince’s chambers, hardly drowned out by his grunts and groans. 

At this point, you’re drenched in your arousal, the linen of your small clothes clinging to your swollen mound in a way that’s almost uncomfortable. 

While you bring one hand up to clasp around the rest of his cock that doesn’t fit into your mouth, the other grips his thigh a bit harder than before, holding onto him for dear life as he uses your face however he pleases. 

You feel the muscles of his thigh tense and contract under your palm and his cock throb inside of you, indicating that he’s close to reaching his peak. It’s the first time you pleasure a man with your mouth, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. But before you can brace yourself for whatever might come, Aemond pulls you off of him by your hair, prompting you to topple back to sit on your haunches. 

You lock your teary eyes with his good one, lips smacking as his musky and salty taste spreads on them and your tongue. “My Prince, I–”

“Remove your clothes,” he interrupts you, his voice less friendly and more a command. 

There are so many thoughts rattling your mind right now, and you don’t know where to start and what to process. 

“I wasn’t asking,” he growls, his impatience showing as you don’t comply quickly enough. 

With a bow of your head, you rise to your feet and peel the beige-ish apron off of your body, the red dress and smallclothes following suit. You waste no thought on your modesty, on the fact that you’re standing bare in front of a prince of the mighty House Targaryen. The longing for him that has built with all the days you’ve cleaned his pristine chambers, and the undeniable aching between your legs don’t allow you to. 

You’re undressed when he stalks around you, regarding you like he’s the hunter and you’re his prey. You see that your obedience arouses him, his hard cock throbbing and bouncing with each step he takes around you. It’s thrilling in the best way possible, and the feeling of being desired by him feeds your confidence.

“Are you just watching, or will the prince undress as well?” 

His eye narrows and flickers up to yours at your question, and there’s the hint of a smile adorning his features. “Would you like that?” 

Biting your bottom lip, a blush creeps on your cheeks. “Very much.”

As you size him up, you notice a flush blossoming from his cheeks down his neck, the same warmth you feel obviously spreading through his body, too. 

“Then I suppose that I’ll oblige.”

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he removes his clothing, slipping out of layer after layer, starting with the black leather robe, and ending with his smallclothes.  

You all but drag your eyes over his lithe frame, taking in every muscle that ripples beneath his pale skin, and every silver, coarse hair that trails from below his navel to his cock and the sac of his stones. 

It seems like he basks in your attention, in the way you stare at him in awe as you lick your lips, and he’s certainly not afraid of showing himself in his full glory. 

“Get on the bed,” he says, smugly. “On your hands and knees.”

This time you know better than to take a few seconds to comply, bowing your head before climbing his bed right away, getting in the desired position. You suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, completely at his mercy in a way you’ve never experienced before. However, your curiosity and desire overshadow any reservations you could have. 

“Pray tell, have you lain with a man before?” You feel the mattress dip beneath his weight as he slowly settles behind you. His hands find your hips, and you shiver with anticipation. 

Looking at him from over your shoulder, you nod. “Just once, my prince.”

A soft hm rubles in his chest at your words, and he raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. You certainly seem to take him very seriously, which isn’t unusual given his station, but it’s your honesty that’s a whole different matter to him. “You enjoyed it, I presume?”

Still meeting his gaze, you swallow thickly. You’re hesitant to answer, not sure why it’s of importance, but he doesn’t seem willing to let you off the hook just yet. “Yes, I did.”

Aemond gives your flesh an appreciative squeeze at that, and shuffles close enough for you to feel his cock press against your arse. “Would you be willing to again?”

You press your lips into a thin line to stop them from pulling into a grin, but fail miserably. The prince behind you takes that as his cue to continue, and you’re most grateful when you feel him drag the tip of his cock through your soaked folds. 

“Just relax for me,” he purrs, his eye fixed on the motions of his hand, watching as his cock disappears inside of you. “I’ll make it feel good.”

The moment you stretch around him, you take in a sharp breath, his cock breaching your cunt at a teasingly slow pace that makes sure you feel every vein and ridge of him drag along your walls.

With his hands coming back to rest on your hips, he pulls you onto his cock until his hips press against your arse, taking his time to adjust to your tightness. The ‘shit’ he mumbles doesn’t go unnoticed by you, a renewed wave of your arousal drenching his cock and the sac of his stones. 

If his impatience hasn’t been running thin before, it certainly does now, because the first gentle, sensual thrusts are quickly replaced by merciless pounding. You don’t mind it for you’ve been thoroughly soaked, and enjoy the feeling of his cock repeatedly brushing the spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry. 

Aemond brings a hand between your shoulders, applying a good bit of pressure to press your chest down and your face into the pillows. Your head turns to the side, but you’re not able to look at him.

His breathing is heavy, strained pants leaving him, and his hand trails back to grope your arse. 

“Fuck, what an obedient girl they’ve ordered to take care of my chambers–of me,” Aemond rambles behind you, bowing forwards to put a bit more of his weight on your small frame. “Taking me so well. Giving me exactly what I want.” 

The praise goes straight to your head, and you want to answer, but the words die on your tongue, replaced by quiet whimpers and whines that grow wanton as he splits you open with a hard, percussive thrust. Then another follows, and another, keening at the sweet sounds you make only for him. 

Not able to focus on anything else than the pressure building inside of your belly, you push your hips back against him, and he counters by pulling you back with each of his thrusts, meeting him halfways which results in the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin to echo off the walls. 

He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, that you’re certain you would keep going even if someone is to barge into his chambers, interrupting you.

As his hand snakes beneath your body to make contact with your pearl, you’re overcome with the true knowledge of how experienced Aemond actually is. He strums your body like the most talented lutenist, bringing you closer towards your sweet release. 

“Gods, I–” you whine into the pillows. 

The taut string inside of you snaps, and the pleasure within you soares through your veins. White, hot pleasure clouds your vision, his arm around you the only thing keeping you up right now. 

“That’s it,” Aemond grunts, and the snaps of his hips increase to the point your whines become hiccuped, catching in your throat with little to no time to fill your lungs with air. 

And then, his hips stutter, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. He twitches and trembles so much that he’s forced to still his hips, and you take it as your cue to roll yours against him, helping him through his peak. 

The throbbing only stills once you’ve milked him for every drop of his seed and the last bit of the euphoric high subsides, making him come back to his senses. 

But there’s not much basking in the proximity for you, not when Aemond pulls out almost immediately after, climbing off the bed to get dressed again. The red dress is crudely thrown into your direction, silently making clear that it’s time for you to leave. 

It seems as though he’s embarrassed, because he has a hard time meeting your eyes, and doesn’t look at you when you get back in your clothes. But perhaps you’re just not catching the subtle glances he throws into your direction as your maid attire comes back to hug your curves. 

Tying the apron and fixing your hair, you reach for the pail. It’s then, with you bowing forwards, that you finally feel his seed trickling out of your cunt, and the sensation alone makes you shiver in an uncomfortable way. You certainly have to look for a quiet spot in the keep where you can clean yourself, since you’re not done working. 

You head for the door, but before you open it, his smooth voice catches your attention again. 

“You may leave now, but I expect you to come back and finish your task at the Hour of the Ghosts, for you have not cleaned the fireplace thoroughly enough.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @connorsui @valeskafics

[sebastianstangirl01]

✧˖° lifeline | rafe cameron

pairing - rafe cameron x routledge!reader

warnings - violence (jj decking rafe), language, pregnancy (audrey’s pregnant instead of sarah), almost drowning

summary - after rafe, who just so happens to be your baby daddy, offers you and your friends a boat ride to Moraco tensions rise between the untrusting group. when an intense storm hits out of no where you get swept off the front of the boat by an enormous wave and rafe has to make a decision. save the woman he loves and mother of his child or ride out the storm to find groff.

authors note - well…..i’m back! kinda. sorry for literally dropping off the face of the earth, i’ve been more activish writing wise on wattpad lately. so sorry for not writing any on here! since buzzcut rafe and just drew in general are literally daddy i knew i had to write for him! i’m sure you’ve seen this trope like a million times, but that’s because it’s such a bomb trope and never gets old! at least in my opinion! with that being said, because it’s so popular it’s inevitable that these types of fics will probably be similar but i’ll try my very best to be as original as possible!! oh, also since i hate having to write y/n as the name i’ll be using is audrey since that’s my name and who doesn’t want to imagine themselves as rafe’s girl?? but for real, feel free to imagine any name you want! i hope you enjoy!!

not proofread!!

✧˖°

when rafe showed up and convinced shoupe to let you all track down groff, you thought you were dreaming. but here you are sitting on a container of god knows what stuck on a boat with your older brother (by 9 months), best friends, and ex/baby daddy who you haven’t spoken to since you found out you were pregnant 2 weeks ago.

you paced circles around the large bathroom, chewing on the side of your finger anxiously. the timer winding down on your phone seemed to be taking a lot longer than 3 minutes and the test flipped upside down on the sink seemed to be haunting you.

it all started about a week ago. you noticed some unusual changes in your everyday routine, starting with the fact that you found yourself bending over the toilet seat every morning puking your guts up.

the thought of being pregnant didn’t even click in your mind until you realized the last time you had your period was so long ago you couldn’t even remember the exact date. panic involuntarily filled your mind when you thought about your situation.

you and rafe have been off and on for as long as you could remember. him using and smoking all the time was one of the main reasons why, he wasn’t the same when he was high and he honestly scared you. when peterkin was killed you thought there was no way you’d ever be able to look at rafe the same again.

but there’s just something about him that keeps drawing you in, he’s different around you. even more so now that he’s quit abusing drugs, he makes you feel like the only girl in the world. the issue still stands though, he treats your brother and friends like the scum of the earth and nothing you say changes his behavior.

it’s exhausting having your boyfriend and friends hate each other to the point where you can’t even bring rafe around your home without someone starting a fist fight.

that’s what caused your breakup this time, you couldn’t stand the animosity between everyone and what sealed the deal was jj starting a brawl with rafe that ended with both of them having to get stitches. you felt responsible for them getting hurt and put your own feelings aside to do what you thought was best for everyone as a whole.

you and rafe broke up. but no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t stay away. which led to your current predicament.

the timer finally went off, snapping you out of your thoughts and stopping you in your tracks. you’re heart was beating so fast you thought it would burst from your chest and land in the claw foot tub across the room. biting the bullet you grabbed the test and held it tightly in your hand, not having the heart to turn it over yet.

“hey-” rafe pushed open the bathroom door making you jump in surprise

you had thought he left for work already but here he was standing in front of you with furrowed brows as his gaze landed on the test in your hand.

“rafe.” you started but he cut you off

“what the fuck is that?” rafe snapped in shock

“i uh, i’m late.” was all you could mutter as you bit your lip nervously, recognizing the cold look on rafe’s face

“and?” rafe raised his brows waiting for your answer impatiently

“I haven’t been able to look.” you admitted and rafe huffed walking closer to you and yanking the test out of your hand

the tension in the room was suffocating as rafe flipped the test over, you were terrified as you studied his face closely looking for any sign of what the test read.

“fuck.” rafe whispered before dropping the test to the ground his hands immediately coming up to press against his forehead as he turned away from you

you slowly bent down and your hands shook as you picked the test up, flipping it over your heart dropped into your stomach.

pregnant.

tears filled your eyes and your chest filled with panic, you had truly never been more scared in your life than you were in this moment. how were you supposed to raise a baby? you only just turned 19 and your home is about to be swept out from under you by greedy kooks. and you aren’t even with the father of your baby at the moment.

“holy shit.” rafe’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you looked over at him

he was standing with his hands squeezing the counter top harshly, the veins in his neck looked like they were about to burst.

“rafe?” you whispered

“i cant do this right now.” rafe shook his head before storming out of the room

the front door slamming downstairs startled you making you jump, then it hit you. you were pregnant and alone and the tears slid down your cheeks.

that was the last you had seen or heard from rafe. when you told your brother he was less than thrilled, it took everything for you to keep him from tracking rafe down and killing him. but john b eventually realized that you needed him to be there for you so he put his feelings aside and focused on you and his future niece or nephew.

your friends were about the same story, especially jj who has always been a loose cannon. but at the end of the day they rallied around you and you knew they would be there for you and be the best aunts and uncles to the baby.

but right about now you wished you had just gone with shoupe because you were being hit with motion sickness to the extreme and felt like you were about to throw up everywhere.

“hey, what’s up?” kie frowned kneeling down in front of you, sarah immediately following

“you ok?” sarah placed her hand on your knee

it took you a second to answer having to take a few deep breaths until the nausea subsided before you blinked down at the pair.

“just nauseous.” you held a hand to your stomach

“maybe there’s some ginger ale or something in the kitchen.” kie said and you nodded the thought of the fizzy drink sounded appealing

before she could stand to go searching for anything a hand appeared in front of your face holding a can of ginger ale. you knew that veiny hand and gold ring anywhere but still looked up and saw rafe looking at you in concern.

that was the most concern he had shown you since you found out you were pregnant.

“thanks.” you smiled softly and he just nodded before disappearing back inside

you saw the look exchanged between your two best friends but ignored it as you eagerly cracked open the can before humming in delight as you took sips of the drink.

“ok, so I think it’s time we talk about the elephant on the boat.” jj started making everyone exchange confused looks. “rafe, guys.”

“what about him?” sarah furrowed her brows

“what do you mean, what about him? do we really trust that he’s not going to screw us over? shit, i wouldn’t be surprised if he was working with those psycho mercenaries and was leading us to our deaths.” jj rambled

“come on jayge, you know none of us trust him but he did save our asses. as much as i hate to admit it.” kie reminded her boyfriend who just rolled his eyes

“and that automatically excuses everything he’s done?” jj scoffed

“hey, she’s not saying that. you know i’d love to just chuck him into the ocean but so far he hasn’t tried anything. i say we play it cool then ditch him the second we dock.” pope spoke levelheadedly and the others reluctantly nodded in agreement

“but until then, what do we do?” sarah crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into john b’s side

“you know him best, aud. can we trust him to keep his word?” john b turned to his sister who had stayed quiet for the whole conversation

“i believe he’ll keep his word.” you answered after a second and john b studied you for a moment before nodding

“ok, we’ll just stay cool for now.” john b looked between everyone who reluctantly nodded

well, that didn’t last long. one second you were moving inside the cabin to get out of the sun and the next you were kneeling on the ground cradling rafe’s unconscious form after jj sucker punched him in the face.

“what the fuck jj!” you exclaimed in shock

“what? we can’t trust him, i know he’s your baby daddy and you two have some weird relationship thing but i’m not taking any chances.” jj shrugged as he grabbed a rope

“if he didn’t do it i was going to.” pope commented

you just signed and rubbed your forehead at their stupidity and stubbornness before gently stroking rafe’s cheek that was already bruising.

“i’m surrounded by idiots.” you mumbled to yourself

john b and jj carried rafe down into a small utility room after tying his hands together, shutting and locking the door behind them.

knowing there was nothing you could say to get the group to change their minds about rafe, you and cleo got to work in the kitchen looking around for something edible that could be fixed for dinner.

“what about this?” cleo turned to you holding a box of spaghetti noodles

“i guess you can never go wrong with spaghetti.” you shrugged with a small smile

you also knew that spaghetti was a safe food for you, it was one of the only foods that didn’t make you sick at the moment.

john b and pope were out on the deck trying to catch some fish, but you knew you’d be having spaghetti for dinner regardless since you don’t like seafood. jj and kie were up in the cabin making sure the boat was on course and sarah was sunbathing since there wasn’t really much else to do. of course she had offered to help cleo cook and let you relax, but you needed a distraction right now.

while cleo started boiling water, you started working on the sauce. surprisingly the kitchen was pretty nicely stocked and you were able to find a jar of marinara sauce and a bunch of different herbs and seasonings.

humming to yourself you stirred the sauce in the pan in front of you, listening to the playful banter from your friends.

after everyone ate they all agreed that it would be safest for you to be the one to bring rafe dinner. even though both jj and pope voted on letting him starve, everyone else agreed that it wasn’t right. you were nervous to approach him one on one, unsure of what he would say or do when he saw you.

getting your nerves under control, you took a deep breath before shifting the tray of food so you could push open the door. rafe blinked up at you lazily, the image brought you back to the mornings when you woke up together.

“hey, i thought you might be hungry.” you spoke softly closing the door behind you

you stepped forward and knelt down beside him, sitting the tray of food in front of him. rafe looked down at the tray in distain before looking back up at you.

“you gonna feed it to me? or am i supposed to just shove my face in it like a fuckin animal?” rafe snapped making you flinch, which he noticed and immediately took a deep breath. “baby, untie me. please.”

“don’t call me that, rafe. not when you’ve spent the past few weeks ignoring me.” you frowned in frustration

“i’m sorry. i just don’t know what to think, this is a really big thing.” rafe mumbled pulling uncomfortably at his restraints

“i know it’s a big thing rafe, trust me. i’m the one waking up every morning at the crack of dawn to puke my guts out.” you couldn’t help but snap, your emotions from the past couple of weeks overflowing

you had been so upset since finding out you were pregnant and you hate it. you hate that your first thought about your own child was a negative one. you’ve always wanted to be a mother, it’s something you dreamed about since your next door neighbor had a baby when you were 6.

so knowing that you have felt like your baby is a burden for the first part of your pregnancy makes you feel so incredibly guilty. and it’s all because of rafe, of the way he reacted to the news by up and leaving you all alone.

you want your child to have a father, and as much as you hate to admit it you want that father to be rafe. because regardless of everything, you love him.

“look, we can talk about this ok? let’s just talk about it, but first untie me.” rafe held his hands out to you

“i can’t rafe, they don’t trust you and i can’t say i blame them. you’ve never given them a reason to.” you shook your head

“i talked shoupe out of arresting all of you, i got you on this boat.” rafe scoffed

“you also beat pope, shot sarah, strangled kie, framed john b for murder, and started how many fights with jj? not to mention how you’ve continued to terrorize them in general. why would they trust you rafe?” you shook your head moving to stand

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry, audrey. ok, i’ve been a shitty guy, a shitty brother and boyfriend. i know that, but i’m getting my shit together alright? for you, i’m getting my shit together for you and the baby.” rafe rambled and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at his words

especially at his mention of the baby, this being the first time you’d ever heard him acknowledge it.

“I hope you are rafe, and i’m happy for you. but you need to change for yourself too, not just me and not just our baby.” you said casting him one last look before leaving ignoring his calls from behind you

things changed so fast. one second, you were sitting next to pope trying to ignore your guilt at ignoring rafe while everyone ate and the next there was a huge clap of thunder.

the night sky was black but the swirling clouds and flashes of lightning were alarmingly clear. the ocean became harsh and unforgiving, aggressive waves slammed into the side of the boat sending it rocking back and forth wildly.

john b, accompanied by pope and jj immediately ran for the cabin to try to get control of the boat while the girls held on for dear life.

you felt a wave of fear overcome you, not just for your own life, but for the lives of everyone on the boat including the baby in your belly. of course, john b and sarah had survived sailing into a storm, but it wasn’t anywhere near as intense as the storm they are in now.

after a particularly harsh wave collided with the side of the boat, you were knocked out of your seat and hit the ground hard.

“shit!” you exclaimed trying to balance as you pushed yourself to your knees

“are you ok?” sarah grabbed your hand and pulled you to her protectively

“this isn’t good. we’re fucked, aren’t we?” you gulped holding sarah’s hand and the bottom of the table tightly

you looked around at the girls, who all had similar looks of fear on their faces, even cleo who was always calm and collected. pope rushed back down to you guys, explaining that they decided there was no way of outrunning the storm. that they just had to go through it.

sarah and kie went off to find jj and john b, not wanting to be too far from them which left you, cleo, and pope in the small sitting area to hold down the fort.

“hey! let me out! audrey! sarah!” your head suddenly snapped towards the door across the room that led to the room rafe was being kept in

you couldn’t leave him in there all alone, there was no telling how scared he was trapped in there having no idea what was going on. only being able to feel the way the boat thrashed back and forth.

pope, recognizing the look on your face after so many years of friendship immediately shook his head in protest.

“no! no, audrey you can’t let him out!” pope reached for you but you shrugged him off as you ran towards the kitchen area

“audrey! come on, girl! don’t!” cleo exclaimed

“i can’t just leave him there to die! he’s the father of my child, and i still love him. i’m sorry!” you gave them an apologetic look before grabbing a knife out of the sink and running tot he door ignoring your friends shouts from behind you

your legs shook from the effort it took to stay on your feet, the boat rocked back and forth harshly as the enormous waves tossed them around like a pinball.

you practically busted down the door and fell against the sink, somehow miraculously you managed to not stag yourself in the process. rafe was pulling on his restrains and you saw water had already leaked into the room making your eyes widen.

“baby, cut me loose.” rafe broke you out of your trance

“i got you.” you rushed over to him and cautiously began cutting the ropes

“careful!” rafe scolded when you accidentally nicked the skin on his forearm

“i’m trying! just, stay still i’ve never done this before!” you fired back

finally you were able to cut through the ropes and rafe waisted no time pulling you into his arms holding you tightly. you melted into his chest, momentarily forgetting the terror of the situation.

“thank you.” rafe sighed into your hair

“i’d never leave you.” you mumbled squeezing his waist

the two of you pulled away and looked at each other, silently promising to have a long conversation, when you weren’t battling a dangerous storm of course.

“i need to get to john b. sarah’s with him, come on!” you abruptly pulled away, now that you knew rafe was ok you had to find your brother

you ran out of the door hearing rafe curse before following behind you, calling your name. the unfortunate thing was that to get up to the cabin from your position you had to first go across the deck.

the wind was so strong it almost knocked you off your feet as you stepped onto the deck, the rain pelted down onto you mixed with the water that had been sloshed over the edge of the boat.

“john b!” you exclaimed, shielding your eyes as you tried to walk forward

“audrey!” john b yelled with wide eyes as he took in your small figure in the storm he, followed by sarah, jj, and kie rushed out onto the upper deck right outside the cabin.

just as you made a move towards them a large wave came out of no where and slammed into the side of the boat knocking you to the ground. your skin scuffed against the ground and you yelped at the feeling of a jagged piece of metal slashing your hip.

rafe had just burst onto the deck when he saw you on the ground, as he was about to run to you he heard sarah scream your name.

“audrey!” sarah screamed in horror as the lightning in the sky revealed a monster wave approaching them

you screamed, knowing there was no way you’d be able to make it to safety in time and tried your best to clutch onto something. before you knew it you felt your body being hit hard by a wall of water, sending you skidding across the ground. your hands slipped and slid as you tried to grab onto something, but it was no use as you felt yourself suddenly falling off the back of the boat.

you didn’t even have time to scream as you’re body collided with the harsh and unforgiving ocean water, your body was pulled underwater by the rough current. you had been swimming in the ocean your whole life, yet you had never experienced something quit like this before.

it felt like there were hands gripping your body trying to keep you underwater, but you fought as hard as you could. when you were finally able to break the surface you did so with a big gasp, eagerly sucking in air as you fought against the waves.

“help! rafe! john b! jj!” you screamed thrashing in the water

when rafe saw you fall overboard his heart stopped and it was like his body was in autopilot. he ran forward and grabbed the lifebuoy that was hanging on the side of the boat.

sarah locked her teary eyes on her brother, her heart pounding out of her chest at the thought of losing her best friend, and now she sees rafe holding the lifebouy and knows exactly what is going through his head.

“rafe!” sarah yelled not wanting to lose someone else

rafe didn’t hesitate, his mind already made up as he ran to the end of the boat.

“audrey! i’m coming!” rafe yelled before diving into the water

the pogues watched in terror as the two disappeared from their sight, john b dropping to his knees in agony at the potential loss of his sister. the only family he had left. while sarah was in the same position, you were her best friend and now sister in law and rafe was the only family she had left and she had just lost them both.

rafe gasped as he broke the surface, holding onto the bouy tightly he looked around frantically trying to spot you when he saw you clinging to a piece of wood.

“audrey!” rafe yelled before swimming towards you

your head snapped up when you heard rafe’s familiar voice and couldn’t help but sob in relief as you saw him swimming towards you.

“rafe!” you started swimming to meet him halfway

when you were within arms reach, rafe pulled you into his arms and held you against him and the bouy as tight as he could. you cried as you clung to him and rafe tried his best to push his fear aside for your sake.

“you came for me. you came for me.” you gasped kicking your legs to stay above the water

“i’ll always come for you. always. it’s going to be ok, baby. just don’t let go.” rafe demanded and you nodded

the storm raged around you and the boat disappeared from your sight, nothing around but the vast stretch of the ocean leaving you with nothing but fear and anxiety. but at least you had rafe, you knew he would do whatever he could to protect you and that’s what kept you going as the two of you clutched onto each other tightly and rode out the storm.

the first thing you recognized was how quiet it was around you, the next was the body laying beside you. you blinked your eyes open and coughed feeling some of the water you inhaled trickle out of your mouth. hands grabbed your face and you blinked up to see rafe’s soaked face hovering above you.

“there she is, wake up for me baby.” rafe sighed in relief as he pulled you into his arms

“are we alive?” you asked clutching onto his arm

“yeah baby, we’re alive. we’re ok.” rafe chuckled kissing your forehead

you sighed leaning against him lazily, as exhaustion filled your aching body. you have no idea how the two of you survived the storm, but you were grateful.

“you saved my life.” you looked up at rafe with teary eyes before grabbing his hand and placing it on your stomach. “you saved us both.”

rafe felt his emotions overpower him as a lone tear slid down his cheek, it was just now hitting him how much he had to lose. if he had been even a second too late he would have lost you. he would’ve lost you and the baby.

he had spent so much time being an idiot, being a terrible person when he could’ve spent that time loving you. no more, he made that vow to himself right in that moment. he made a promise to himself that he would do right by you and this baby, nothing else mattered. not money or kooks vs pogues, nothing. only you and the future the two of you had together with your child.

“i will always save you. i love you so much, audrey, and i and so sorry for the way i have treated you. for the way i have treated your friends. for everything. this has made me realize that you are the most important thing to me in the world and i am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you and to our child. if you give me a chance, i swear to you that i will be the best man i can be.” rafe cradled your face in his hands

as you looked into his eyes you saw nothing but love and sincerity, and it was what you had been wanting from him for as long as you can remember. seeing him in this moment you know how serious he is and after he literally risked his life to save you, you know that he is the one.

“i love you too, rafe. i want to be a family.” you leaned your forehead against his nudging his nose with yours

“i want that too. more than anything.” rafe said before leaning forward and connecting your lips

in that moment you knew that no matter what came out of this new treasure hunt that you would always have rafe by your side and that your child would grow up with a father. and that’s all you could hope for.