#i don’t think any other word works for them besides “partners”. In all meanings

[roboyomo]

just. places amor and apollo in your hands. take care of them

[lightsoutnaway]

Am I Good for You?

PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, praise, p in v, fingering, safe word mention, edging, unprotected sex, use of ‘sir’,

SUMMARY: Oscar talks to Lando about his sex life and starts worrying that he’s not pleasing you. You decide to try things a little rougher.

WORD COUNT: 3,102

“Do you think I’m good at sex?”

Oscar asked the question as soon as he walked through the door. You laughed. He hadn’t even said ‘hello.’

“What are you talking about, Osc?” You asked. You were sitting at the counter flipping through a magazine.

“Do you think I’m good at sex?” Oscar repeated.

“Is this some kind of foreplay? It’s not really working,” you joked. Oscar looked truly distressed though. He sat down on the stool beside yours at the counter.

“Baby, I’m serious. Is it—Am I good for you?” He asked.

“Where’s this coming from?” You asked. Oscar had never done anything that made you suspect him of being insecure before.

“I was talking to Lando today,” Oscar admitted. You sighed.

“Oscar, Lando’s crazy,” you reminded your boyfriend.

“I know, but he was talking about some of the things he does,” Oscar started. “And he was really surprised that we hadn’t ever done any of them.”

“Okay?” You waited for something more. Oscar sighed.

“The way he looked at me just made me feel like he knew that I was disappointing you without ever asking you,” he told you.

“Well, he doesn’t know that because you’ve never disappointed me, Osc,” you said firmly.

“But do you get everything you want from me?” Oscar pushed. “I don’t do anything special.”

“Did Lando tell you that?” You questioned. You needed to have a word with the sassy little brit.

“No, but he might as well have,” Oscar said.

“What is it that he said?” You pushed.

“It wasn’t one thing,” Oscar told you. “He was just listing off all the things he does with his partners and…I’d never done any of them with you.” He dropped his shoulders. “I feel like I’ve been doing it all wrong.”

“Is there something you want us to do?” You asked. Oscar shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just—I thought I knew what you wanted, but I…I guess I never asked you.”

“What did you think I wanted?” You questioned. Oscar looked up at you. He had been avoiding your eyes for the last few minutes.

“I thought you wanted—I don’t know—I thought you should be treated like a princess,” Oscar finally said. You smiled at this revelation.

“You’re always so careful with me,” you said fondly.

“I thought I should be. You’re not just some fling,” he told you. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t care about you.”

“I always feel like you care about me,” you assured him.

“But are you satisfied? Do you want more from me?”

“Do you want more?” You asked. “You’re more experienced than me, Oscar.”

“Don’t think about me,” he said. “I’ve always kept it….soft…with you.” He was quiet for a moment. “But I haven’t ever asked you if that’s what you want, and I should have,” Oscar reiterated his earlier thought. “So, baby,” he started. “What do you want?” Your eyes widened. The question was far too direct for your shy personality.

“I don’t know,” you replied quickly. “I like what we do.” Oscar smirked. You answered too quickly. You did know what you wanted.

“I do too,” he assured you. “But we could do other things. I’ve always taken the lead, baby,” Oscar said. “What’s something you think about when I’m gone?”

“Oscar, I always think about you,” you said, thinking that it was the most obvious thing in the world. Oscar grinned.

“C’mon, baby,” Oscar said. “Just because you weren’t experienced when you met me doesn’t mean you didn’t have naughty thoughts.”

“Oscar Jack Piastri, what are you saying about me?” You questioned. Oscar chuckled. His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you.

“I know you said I was the first person to make you come,” Oscar said.

“Don’t brag.” He chuckled.

“But I was second,” Oscar continued. “I think we both know the first person to make you come was you.” You blushed. Oscar was simultaneously turning you on and filling your chest with nerves. “You had fantasies before you met me.” Oscar’s eyes were hungry. “Tell me.” You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Oscar, I don’t want to,” you whispered shyly.

“Why not, love?” He asked.

“I like what we do…and it’s embarrassing,” you mumbled.

“It’s embarrassing to tell me something you want from me?” Oscar questioned.

“Yes!” You whined.

“Why, baby? Don’t you trust me?” Oscar pushed. Your eyes softened.

“Of course I trust you, but…” You trailed off.

“But what?” Oscar pushed.

“You think I’m so innocent, but…” you started. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I want you to be a little…rougher…with me,” you admitted. “But I don’t want you to think I’m dirty. I like being your innocent baby.”

“It’s okay to be dirty, kitten,” Oscar assured you quickly. “And you can still be my innocent baby.” He reached out and took your hands. “But you want me to be rough with you?” He asked cautiously. Oscar had never tried being rough with you. It didn’t seem right to him. You were so sweet and innocent in his eyes. Your cheeks were burning and you couldn’t meet his eyes as you said the words though. Oscar was sure you were telling the truth.

“If that’s okay…” you whispered. Oscar kept his eyes on you, hoping he could draw another admission out of you if he just stayed quiet. “And maybe you could…make me…beg…a little.” Oscar’s face lit up.

“What do you want to beg for?” He asked at once. You raised an eyebrow. It seemed you had stumbled upon something he wanted too.

“Umm…Why don’t you pick?” You offered. Oscar grinned.

“You want me to be in charge?” He asked. He’d never been submissive between the two of you, but he’d never been particularly dominant either. The balance between you had always been fairly even. You nodded shyly.

“Please,” you squeaked out.

“My naughty baby,” Oscar started taunting. “All this time I thought you were so innocent.” His hands were on you now, sliding up your thighs. You pushed your knees together, as if that would keep him from knowing just how turned on you were.

“Oscar,” you whispered. You weren’t sure what you even meant to ask for.

“But you’re not completely innocent, are you?” Oscar teased you. “Just had this little head full of naughty thoughts while I was treating you so nice.” Oscar could tell by the way you were looking at him that he already had you wrapped around his finger. “Bedroom. Now.” Oscar had never given you a command that way, even in your most heated moments. It was turning you on though, and Oscar could see that. You quickly hurried down the hall. When you got to the bedroom you turned around and looked at Oscar, waiting for further instructions.

“We should have a safe word, shouldn’t we?” Oscar asked you. His new dominant facade wasn’t there. This was your sweet caring Oscar who always wanted you to be okay.

“How about ‘papaya?’” You offered. Oscar chuckled. He had closed the space between you. His hands fell onto your hips.

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. “You can tell me any time you don’t like something, okay? I won’t be mad.” You nodded. “I want to hear it,” he requested.

“I’ll tell you if I don’t like something,” you assured him.

“Good girl,” he praised. Your eyes went wide and you looked down. Oscar ducked to meet your eyes. “You like that, huh?” He asked. “Should’ve told me that before, kitten.” He gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head in one smooth motion. You had been at home all day and you hadn’t put on a bra, so Oscar was blessed with the sight of your plush breasts. Your nipples hardened in the cool air of your bedroom. You started to wrap your arms around yourself as a shiver passed over you. Oscar smiled. “Cold?”

“A little,” you said. Oscar grabbed your hips, pushing you back towards the bed till he’d gotten you laid out on your back.

“I’ll warm you up.” He grabbed the waistband to your sweatpants and tugged them down with your underwear. He looked down at your naked body. He never got enough of your body. You were a work of art to him. You were the object of every one of his fantasies. He couldn’t help but stare.

“Yours too,” you called up nervously. Oscar met your eyes and smiled smugly. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he pulled his shirt off. His chest was tight and muscular and he flexed his arms as he tossed his shirt to the side. He started to climb on the bed, but you whined. He looked down at you, waiting for you to explain. “All of it.” You told him. He chuckled before taking his pants off, leaving himself as bare as he had you.

Oscar climbed up the bed once he was naked and laid his body over yours, his weight holding you in place. He had his forearms planted on either side of your head and he leaned down to kiss you. He was soft and sweet with his kisses, contrasting sharply from the dominance he was exhibiting everywhere else. You let out a small sigh of pleasure into the kiss and Oscar chuckled against your lips. He started kissing down your neck and body.

Oscar’s lips fell around your nipple. He sucked and licked at the hardened flesh, bringing a tingling feeling all over your skin. You could feel the burn spreading between your legs and you tried to push them together, but found your knees were blocked by Oscar’s hips. He sensed your intention immediately. He lifted one hand and slid it down between your legs.

“Osc,” you moaned softly at the mere idea of him touching your most sensitive spots. He laughed against your body. He had moved to your other nipple after he felt he had paid enough attention to the first. You were already whimpering and whining under his electric touch. His fingers had found your dripping hole but he refused to slip them inside. You whined in protest, shifting your hips up to signal what you wanted.

“Shh,” he hushed you sharply. You closed your mouth at once. He had never displayed anything like disapproval before. Instinctually, you wanted to please him. He continued to tease your entrance, his lips moving back to yours. You were growing impatient when you finally realized what he was waiting for.

“Please touch me, Oscar,” you murmured against his lips. Oscar smirked. That was all it took for him to slide his fingers inside your warmth. You arched your back and moaned loudly at the feeling of finally being touched in the way you truly wanted.

Oscar slowly started pumping his fingers in and out of you. You were whimpering under his lazy movements, desperate for him to give you more. He kissed your neck, surely making marks that would be seen in any photos taken at the race in the upcoming weekend.

“Are you feeling good?” Oscar asked. His voice was low and gravelly and his accent made his words sound even sexier. You nodded. He gave you a look that told you he was expecting a vocal answer.

“Really good,” you called up. Oscar started pumping his fingers faster. You whimpered. He pushed his thumb against your clit. You whined embarrassingly loud for the fact that he didn’t move it. He snickered at your reaction.

“You’re so fucking sensitive,” Oscar commented. He was saying it more to himself than you—it was like he was bragging to himself. He knew that he was the only one who had ever had you in this state.

The tension in your body was rising and you knew your orgasm was coming. You arched your back, throwing your head into the pillows and clutching at Oscar’s body. You were just on the precipice when suddenly, Oscar wasn’t touching you anymore. You opened your eyes and stared at him, but you were met only with a cocky smirk.

“Why?” You whined.

“You don’t come until I decide you do tonight,” Oscar said. “That’s what you’re begging for.” You closed your mouth and nodded dutifully.

“Yes, sir.” You let the nickname fall off your lips with ease—you didn’t even plan on saying it but there it was on your tongue. Oscar grinned when he heard you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Oscar groaned. “You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” You nodded quickly.

“Really good, sir,” you agreed. He chuckled.

“Then right now, be quiet,” Oscar said. That was all the warning you got before he was thrusting his fingers into your quickly, his thumb moving quickly against your clit. You whined loudly. “Shh.” The way he was hushing you was driving you up the wall and you clenched around his fingers. Oscar felt it and was spurred on. He moved faster with the hopes of drawing out another moan that he could hush you for.

After Oscar had gotten his fill of hushing you he told you to moan again, not wanting to miss out on the beautiful sounds you made. He drew you to the edge again, spurred on by the moans he could draw from you once he had told you not to be quiet.

Oscar couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He thought he might have been transported to heaven given how beautiful the sight in front of him was. Your face was contorted in pleasure, your eyes watering. Your fingers were dug into the sheets and your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead. You were whimpering and whining in ecstasy and every little ‘please’ and ‘Oscar’ that fell from your lips made him even harder. His thumb was slowly rubbing back and forth over your clit as he kept fingering you steadily. He could feel you tightening around his fingers and he knew he was bringing you towards the edge again.

“Osc,” you murmured more strongly than your small whispers. You knew that he knew you were about to cum. He’d always known your body so well.

“Yes?” He called down with a sly smirk on his face. You scowled at him, knowing he was teasing you.

“Oscar, please.” Oscar smirked.

“Please, what?” He asked.

“Please can I—ungh!” You gasped when Oscar rubbed the pads of his fingers against your walls.

“Can you what?” Oscar taunted.

“Please can I cum, sir?” You spit out.

“No, I don’t think so,” Oscar teased as he pulled his thumb away. You cried out in protest. Oscar stopped thrusting his fingers, and pulled them out of your heat. Oscar watched as your chest heaved, trying to recover from the sudden theft of pleasure. “God, I should’ve been playing with you like this since we met,” Oscar groaned.

“Please,” you whined. “I want to come.”

“Oh, I know, kitten,” Oscar cooed. You sniffled slightly, a single tear slipping down your cheek. Oscar reached up and wiped it away. “Is it too much?” He checked. His voice was softer. You were quiet for a moment.

“No,” you admitted quietly. Oscar smiled, but he was worried that you were just saying it to please him.

“You promise me, kitten?” He pushed. You nodded.

“I promise, Osc,” you said. Oscar smiled in approval and kissed you.

“You want my cock now, baby?” He asked.

“Please,” you said in a gasping breath. Oscar was going wild at the desperation in your voice. He couldn’t bring himself to tease anymore so he lined himself up with you. He looked into your eyes as he slowly slipped himself into you. He moved slowly as he pushed in, making the most indulgent moan you had ever heard from him.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he groaned. He was right. You could hear the slosh of your juices with every thrust Oscar made.

“I’m not going to last long,” you whined.

“I know, kitten,” Oscar said. He grabbed your legs and pushed them up against your chest. You let out a sharp cry at the sudden change in angle. You cried out Oscar’s name and dug your fingers into his arms, surely leaning bruises. Oscar could feel you clenching down on him and he knew you were nearing your peak. He looked deep into your tear brimmed eyes. You felt the panic of having your orgasm stolen from you again. Oscar’s eyes were dark as they stared into yours.

“Beg.” His voice was low and gravelly and firm and you were sure there wasn’t a person in the world who could have denied him.

“Please, sir. Please make come. I need it so bad. I need you. I need your cum. Please, Osc,” you were crying and whimpering the words out, terrified of the idea of having the burning pleasure you felt taken from you again.

“Where do you need my cum?” Oscar pushed.

“Inside me! Inside, Osc, please!” You cried. Your body was on fire, your mind outside your body. Oscar grinned at your words.

“Come.” Oscar’s order was the sweetest sound you ever heard and you let the tsunami of pleasure Oscar had built for you wash over your body. You were shaking and crying, your hips pushing up into his. You tightened down on Oscar and he gasped, letting himself go to the sounds of you chanting his name over and over.

You weren’t sure how long it was after you came but you found yourself back in your body with Oscar lying on top of you. He was pressing soft kisses to the crook of your neck where his head was resting comfortably. Somehow he knew that you had calmed down the moment it happened.

“How was that for you?” He asked. You laughed.

“Are you joking, Osc?” You asked. “That’s the best sex we’ve ever had.” He chuckled back.

“I didn’t want to assume,” he replied. You noticed the bruises you’d made on his arms and you gently ran your fingertips over them.

“I think we owe Lando a ‘thank you,’” you said. Oscar laughed.

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” You turned your head down to find Oscar’s eyes looking into yours.

“You better not tell him everything,” you threatened. Oscar smiled.

“There’s no secrets between teammates,” he teased.

“There is if you want to do that again,” you said. Oscar smirked.

“I think we just established that you’re the one who does the begging.” You smirked right back at him.

“Maybe this time. But Lando was right. There’s lots we haven’t tried.”

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our Girl – Part 4

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: Smut [18+, minors DNI]

You stared at the gold invitation, cursive writing announcing Cresseida to be wed in a months time. And there was your name printed, Y/N and partners. You had scoffed when you first saw it – maybe in another life.

You were chewing your lip, lost in thought on whether to attend or not. You knew at the least, Rhys and Feyre would attend the wedding – that meant seeing them. And word would surely spread of your work at Spring Court once you got to chatting to other guests – that would reveal your location. 

“Whats bothering you, young spark?” Finbark asked from the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables as a pot of stew boiled behind him. He looked up briefly, spotting the invitation in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not attending?” 

“I don't want to risk what I have here.”

“Y/N, everything you’ve worked for is already yours. Your home here, your work, even your privacy, no one can take that away from you now, not even a High Lord or Lady.”

“I know, you’re right. It’s just… I've so enjoyed my little bubble away from everything that happened. Seeing them… they made me feel so small Fin, so helpless. I don't know if I can stand going through that again.”

“So much has happened since then. Look at all you’ve done, all you’ve accomplished. Thousands of fae, gods, even the entire damn court is mending thanks to you. You were never small, and you have proven that to yourself over and over again.”

A wobbly smile jerked at your lips, tears pricking in your eyes. He wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables to come cup your face, brushing away your tears.

“You cannot lock yourself in Spring Court forever, sweetheart. Don't punish yourself for their mistakes, expand your horizons, celebrate with friends that are equally yours as they are theirs. And celebrate yourself, you deserve that even more.”

You reached for your uncle’s rippled hand, holding it tight. “Thank you, Finbark. You mean the world to me.”

“And you me, young spark.” 

So it was decided. You would attend the wedding, without any partners.

————

“Where are we going?” you called from Podie, Tamlin a few paces ahead on his own horse. He was leading you through a trail you weren't familiar with.

“For the umpteenth time Y/N, it’s a surprise.” He called back without turning his head. 

You let out an audible sigh, to which Tamlin chuckled. You did your best not to admire his ass as he straddled a horse – it helped neither of you how handsome Tamlin looked in his riding clothes. You pressed your heels to Podie, coming to trot beside him.

“You should know I hate surprises,” you sang.

“Even the good kind? What a shame,” Tamlin responded, clearly not letting up on where he was taking you. You poked your tongue out, earning another chuckle.

It had been several months since your first dinner with Tamlin, and you had fallen into a comfortable pattern with the High Lord. You enjoyed a regular drink or meal together when your work crossed paths, and he had even consulted you on advice for his court, which flattered you. His company was a consistent pleasure, and you treasured the friendship you had formed – the Gods knew you needed it.

You managed to bite your tongue for another twenty minutes, and just as you were about to pester him again, Tamlin spoke. “It’s just up this trail.”

Pulling the reins of his horse, Tamlin led you down a steep path, hidden much by overhanging trees and bushes, only to reveal a clearing.

No, not a clearing – a field, blossoming with rows of carefully planted pink flowers. And as you got closer, the size of the field was revealed, bordered by a low wooden fence. It was… a farm?

You drew in an audible breath as the scent of the flowers hit you. You widened your eyes at Tamlin, who was grinning at your shock. You dismounted Podie quickly, rushing to brace the fence as you took in the site with awe. 

“Wild Gernaium?” you choked, your eyes still wide. 

“The healing flower,” Tamlin nodded. “It took a while to learn how to farm them, months in fact, but Spring has Prythians best botanists.”

“And here I thought they could only grow in the wild,” you shook your head with disbelief. “Tamlin, these are so rare, how on earth you were able to farm this many?”

“Spring Court is a land that gives back, the soil here is rich of nutrients and the weather forgiving. It is of course only something we were able to do, thanks to your mission work to help recover the land. This is your accomplishment as much as it is theirs.”

Tears pricked in your eyes then. The amount of fae that could be helped with this crop – it was an overwhelming thought. 

“And they are for you, of course.”

You gaped at the High Lord, who laughed again. 

“For me?”

“Of course, for your work. Whatever you need – farmers to pick the flowers, a factory full of workers to grind and bottle the pigment – say the word and it’s yours.”

“Tamlin, I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Please, don’t. It’s not a thanks I deserve, I’m just… trying to look out for my people. Just as you do.”

“Well… you’ve done a Gods damned good job,” you said with raised brows, blowing out a loose breath at the extend of the farm. 

Tamlin threw his head back and laughed, and you grinned at his happiness. You reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Nice work, High Lord.”

Tamlin squeezed your hand back. “It wouldn't be without you.”

He pulled on your hand then, leading you through the flowers as you admired the plants up close. He explained that a factory could be built at the farms edge, attached with a pressing mill and grinders. Your heart fluttered with excitement, your work could extend past manual labour, you could now offer medicine and healing. There was a force brewing inside you, something unstoppable and good, something that lay dormant for centuries, finally unleashed and free.

You still held Tamlin’s hand as he lead you through the field, making your way to a lush hill that overlooked the farm. You sat together, Tamlin listening contently as you excitedly spoke through your ideas on how to harvest the medicine, noting that your small growing team of mission workers could also help to distribute throughout the court.

“How many aid workers have you recruited now?” Tamlin asked. 

“Seven, and we’re currently inducting Nyvya in the east. She’s a trained healer, so will be delighted to hear of the Gernaium.”

“That’s wonderful,” he smiled. 

“It is,” you said warmly, and it occurred to you that you owed Tamlin a truth. An idea you were planning to run by him at a much later time. But with the offer of the Gernaium, the access to this kind of healing, that changed things. “It is,” you repeated almost flatly, chewing at your lip as your eyes fell distant, dancing with thought.

Tamlin caught the movement, and he frowned slightly as he shifted from his lounging position. “What is it?”

Your heart rose in anticipation – you felt sheepish. So you stared at him, deciding on whether it was in fact the right time.

“You can say it – whatever it is,” he said gently, taking your hand. Your silence lead him to start guessing. “Are you leaving Spring?”

“No, no I–”

“Because you are free to come and go as you please. I know my past behaviour speaks for itself, but I would hate to think that you feel trapped or–”

You grabbed his shoulders then, squeezing the muscle underneath. “Tamlin, gods I know that.”

The action seemed to stun him, and his lips pressed into a thin line. You felt a slight twang of guilt for drawing out such a distinct shame in him. 

You took a deep breath, pulling your hands to your lap. “With the mission work expanding, along with my team, we have been able to help fae at the borders, some from Summer, even a few from Autumn.”

Tamlin nodded assuringly, a sign for you to continue. He didn't startle over the technicality of Spring members helping foreign fae – that was a good sign. 

“And it felt good to help them Tam, they were isolated, and just as vulnerable as some of those in Spring.”

“Of course,” he said softly.

You had to take a deep breath, and your eyes found the horizon beyond the rolling hills around you. 

“You know,” you spoke softly. “My ambitions to help and protect others, it has always existed beyond court borders.”

You could see Tamlin shift, before giving a slow nod. 

“After talking with my team, we believe our mission work could gain traction in other courts, should they be willing. We could share knowledge, resources too if it was agreed, and provide aid across Prythian without being conformed to borders.”

You forced your eyes to Tamlin then, grimacing at what you might find written on his face. But it was just as neutral, his eyes soft, his jaw chiselled and handsome and – damn him.

“This is not the way I wanted to propose this to you Tamlin, please know. Especially after your generosity with the Gernaium, I understand completely if you have grown them purely to aid your own subjects. But that doesn't stop the need for mission work across Prythian. I plan to gain the support from as many High Lords and Ladies as possible, and I would be honoured if that started with you.”

Tamlin eyed you with those sharp green eyes, the kind of look that made you shift under the weight of it. And after an insufferable silence, he spoke. 

“You are incredible.”

You blinked in shock, Tamlin’s lips pulling at your reaction. 

“Truly,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “I have never met anyone who was to see a need as great as this, and think to grow it beyond borders. Magic anchors a High Lord or Lady to their Court, it makes us territorial and protective, violent even. But you, this,” he said waving his hand to you, before sighing, contemplating how to say what he felt in words. “You are what this world needs.”

Your eyes welled before two fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “Tamlin,” you chocked, unable to think of anything else to say.

He shifted closer, brushing the tears away with his thumb as he cupped your face. “You have my support Y/N. Thank you for teaching me to be better.”

Emotion surged through you, as if flushing you from years of doubt and hate, replaced now with inspiration, kindness and good, honest love. And then your lips were on his. 

Taken aback, Tamlin caught himself on one strong arm as you held his face and kissed him. You pulled away, worried to have overstepped your boundaries. But then a strong hand laced around your waist, his other propping himself up as he leaned in, closing his mouth over yours, a sharp breath drawn as his nose brushed against your. Friendship, understanding, a blossoming love – how quickly Tamlin had welcomed you to a world capable of healing, of growth. 

Every fibre in your limbs begged to be closer to him, to bask in the vulnerability he had shown you, and you him. In only half a year, you had grown together, healed together, and learned to love one another. You did, you loved him, for whatever he was to you – a dear friend, a High Lord, it didn't matter. It was equal, and genuine, and you craved it in every way. 

Fuelled in by dizzy passion, you quickly straddled his lap, pulling at his broad shoulders to bring him further into you, letting him encompass your senses. 

Tamlin’s own hands slid across your back, moving up to your neck, gripping at the roots of your hair, the other grasped at the flesh where your thighs met your hips. 

He seemed to realise where this was heading, pulling away with a sharp breath through his nose. “Y/N–”

You shook your head, dismissing him immediately with another kiss, your tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. “Tamlin.” His name was a plea.

“Are you cer–?”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his question, peppering kissed in between words. “I’ve–never–been–more–certain.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and goosebumps pricked at your skin as you felt it vibrate through to you. Your excitement peaked, it had been so long since you had shared yourself with another, and your core fluttered with anticipation as every fragment of you seemed to chant yes, yes, yes. 

Which is exactly what you moaned as Tamlin entered you, your skirts pulled high, his riding pants pulled low. You placed a flat palm on his chest, your eyes clenched shut as you stretched around his girth, your walls already throbbing as you slowly slid down. Tamlin let out a stifled growl, one laced with satisfaction and a lot of restraint. 

Strong arms hugged you then, and you began to writhe together, moving gently and sensually as you ground against each other. Chasing release was far beyond you, there was so much pleasure to be had in sharing your bodies, relishing in the trust you both had found in one another.

Tamlin did his best to keep a leash if his instincts, his beast form begging to be released and he grunted and growled when you moved your hips in a certain way, nipping at your neck and ear as claws now ran down your back. You ran your fingers through his hair, using it to guide his face to yours as you kissed him and fucked him how you pleased. His own hands moved to grip at your ass to do the same. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, his deep voice breaking, strained with pleasure. 

“Tamlin, gods, you feel–”

“So. Good,” he gritted, finishing your sentence. You leaned back, head thrown back as your hands found balance on his thighs as you rode him in the warm spring air. 

Pleasure found both of you again and again in that afternoon. You climaxed on his lap, and not twenty minutes later he was pushing into you again, your bare thighs spread on the lush green grass as he moved above you. You clung together, a writhing, sweaty mix of passion and pleasure until the sun began to set over the rolling hills. 

Tamlin reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours as you ate the last of the berries he had packed. He kissed your forehead before turning you to rest against his chest, not wanting you to miss the view. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your hair. 

Stroking his arms that were tightly wrapped at your waist, you swallowed, debating on what to say. But no, Tamlin deserved the truth, you must always choose truth. You sighed , saddened by what was churning through your head after such incredible sex.

“I’m thinking we need to discuss what this afternoon means.” 

You loved him, you did, but Tamlin was bound to his court, and your life called beyond it. It wouldn't work, no matter how much you cared for each other.

Tamlin knew this too. “What if,” he spoke softly, brushing your hair away from your neck so he could place a gentle kiss on it. “What if we enjoy this moment for what it is, just for today.”

You smiled, kissing his hands. “Tomorrow then.”

“Plenty of problems await,” he joked, and you laughed before settling further into him. You smiled cockily as you felt him harden against you. Tomorrow indeed.

————

One month later

Peering from the carriage window, your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the clap of horses hooves as guests arrived at the summer estate, music floating gently from within.

Dawned in all colours, you watched guests gasp in awe at the beauty of the building. This was one of many of Tarquin’s estates - one you had never visited. It was an open, grecian style home, golden columns holding the impressive entrance carved with shimmering vines. Fae flocked in groups, sparkling wine already in their hands as they made their way to the gardens, no doubt where the service was being held. 

“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked, the velvet of his deep green suit brushing against your bare arm. 

“Uneasy to say the least,” you said thickly, your tongue stiff with nerves. “And you?”

Tamlin looked beyond the window, eyeing each of the guests. “One step at a time,” was his response as he squeezed your knee. 

————

The curtesy wine offered to you at the entrance was gone within the first few moments of arriving. You wouldn't make a fool of yourself here, but a little wine to take the edge off couldn't hurt. 

Tarquin stood proudly, wearing a fine turquoise suit detailed with gold thread, shaking hands as he welcomed guests. 

“Y/N,” he beamed, taking your hands and kissing each of your cheeks. “I’m honoured you came.”

“The pleasure is mine, Tarquin. Thank you for having me.”

“Nonsense, both Creseida and I might have forced you here if you had not come willingly.”

You laughed freely. “How is she?”

“A wreck of nerves,” he chuckled. 

“I’m sure she looks beautiful,” you laughed lightly back. 

“She does, just as you do,” he winked, raising your hands he still held to take in your dress. A silken, soft blue dress fell of your body, its back open as material gathered just before your rear. The dressmaker had done an incredible job, fitting style and colour alike. You had politely declined her suggestions of a sage green, a Spring Court signature. It was kind, but you were courtless for over a year now, and proud of it. Instead, you had asked for sky blue – as no one ruled the skies. 

Blushing, you let out another soft laugh. “You are too kind, High Lord.”

Tarquins eyes flashed behind you, catching Tamlin as he spoke with some familiars a few paces away. “Have you…?” he questioned, trailing off.

You smiled knowingly. “I’ve come alone. Tamlin and I shared a carriage, journeying from the same court. You remember of my work there?”

“Remember? Sweetheart, there is talk of your mission throughout my court. There are guests here who are very keen to meet you. And we will need to formally discuss your work, and give a proper thanks to the aid you have provided at the border.”

You were smiling wide now, shaking your head with gratitude. “I would like that too, but perhaps not here.”

Tarquin grinned. “No, perhaps not. Welcome, sweet Y/N, please enjoy the festivities, and accomodation.”

You smiled politely as Tamlin approached, exchanging a firm handshake before raising his brows at you. “Shall we head in?”

Nodding tightly, you let Tamlin guide you with a hand at the small of your back. At the very least, the warmth of his skin against yours was a small comfort. 

The estate was even more impressive the further you ventured, white marble and golden staircases twisting this way and that, leading to corridors of rooms, each door carved to perfection. These were the guest accomodations, and included your own for the evening. 

But the jewel of the home was its view, where a perfectly groomed garden now catered to almost a thousand fae, overlooking the crystal blue Adriatic, the waves beneath crashing the cliff quieted by the string quartet. It was an overwhelming beautiful home, and you were glad to be lost in a sea of guests. 

 A golden arch was set at the end of a the aisle, a High Priestess exchanging words with a groom you did not recognise. But you smiled – you were happy for Creseida. 

“An impressive turnout,” Tamlin muttered, sipping his wine as his green eyes turned sharp, scanning the crowd. You ignored the glances being cast your way, whether it was from your attendance with Tamlin, or Tamlin’s presence alone, you didn't care. What did these fools know of either of your stories to judge.

And you tried not to look, to not let your heart beat fast as you scoured for a rare set of wings amongst the finery of the wedding, telling yourself you wouldn’t turn your heel and run at the site of any siphons or shadows or night. But you were thankful to not find any. 

That was, until you felt them. Muscles jerking, goosebumps pricked your skin as your power began to tingle sharply, spreading across your body like a rash. Shit – you hadn't anticipated to lose your lid in such a way, your power had been so forgiving this past year. 

A small gap parted in the crowd of guests at the stairs of the estate, and the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were revealed. Arms loop, night curling around them in the fashion that impressed and threatened all at once. Rhysand shook hands with a nearby male, Feyre kissing the cheeks of a curtsying female. 

It shocked you, how quickly your spy instincts found you. As if in one of your many life-threatening missions, your senses narrowed, the noise in your brain focusing to immediate details – taking in only what you needed to survive, just as Azriel and Cassian had trained you. Your vision barrelled to the couple who still greeted others some distance away. Scanning behind them, you anticipated the remainder of your old family, and of course, your exes. 

Yet no one followed. Not even Mor. It seemed the High Lord and Lady had attended alone. It was strange – had things turned bad at the Court, that even the Morrigan had forgone a wedding?

Rhysand wore a handsome smile as he guided Feyre down the stairs to the garden, guests parting even further, bowing as they strode through. They were getting closer, and you ignored the clench of your heart as their scent filled your nose, before mixing with others. It was the smell of home.

No. it wasn't home. Not anymore, and not for a good while now. You hated that instinct, to curl into it, to let it welcome you, claiming you still. 

You glanced behind, conscious that they would find you standing with Tamlin. But he was no where to be seen, and you thanked him silently for the courtesy of having stepped away.

Rhysand and Feyre glided closer and closer, exchanging nods and accepting bows. And then they halted, violet eyes scanning before locking to yours, grey eyes shortly followed. And Rhys’s smile, the one that he used in the face of the public, it softened, his eyebrows twitching upwards almost unnoticeably. 

Feyre’s hand gripping at his arm tighter, and you could hear her heart fasten from where you stood. You almost resented how in-tune you were to them, these micro-behaviours. 

Glancing between them both, you followed the order of those next to you, lowering yourself to a polite curtsy. 

They couldn't reach you, not without drawing attention, not without the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests. So with a nod from Rhys, and a soft smile from Feyre, they continued on, finding their seats in the queues. 

————

Cresseida was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen. Golden vines were cuffed along her arms, as a silk gown as white as her hair trailed behind her as she walked the aisle, Tarquin proudly at her side. 

You smiled through your tears as she was married. You were happy for her– you were happy –you were… An unmarketable emotion filled you as you couldn’t help the run of tears that continued to pour, even after the ceremony ended. 

————

“And is it true that you were able to help the children at the border?” questioned one of Tarquin’s emissaries as she leaned in, raising her voice over the music. 

The party was in full swing, food had been served and hundreds of fae drank and danced, celebrating Creseida’s courtship, each of them eager to get even a glimpse at the bride and groom. 

“Yes, we were lucky to have an experienced healer join the mission, and she was already aiding some of the fae in Spring.”

The female smiled, and squeezed your arm. “On behalf of my court, we are grateful.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back. “Your authorities were notified, and from what I heard your own healers were already on their way. We were simply closer to that area, and had supplies to spare.”

It had been hours, and your company was still in high demand as endless Summer Court members were eager to meet you. Tarquin, it seemed, had been spreading you just as much praise as Tamlin. You had danced with many, exchanging jokes and stories, enjoying the festivities with some familiar faces and many new ones. 

It was a struggle to keep your eyes from averting, your instinct to find Rhys and Feyre in the crowd was loud and stubborn. Old habits, you supposed. 

Tamlin approached you then, having made himself scarce from your company for most of the evening, something you both had agreed to do. But you were comforted by his presence as he easily slid into the conversation, slipping a glass of fae wine into your hand without even asking. You smiled, giving his shoulder a thankful squeeze. 

There was an itchy, uneasy feeling that tugged at you, and you knew you were under watchful eyes. You found them, surrounded by their own acquaintances, and while Rhys masked his curiosity perfectly, Feyre’s stare bored into you from across the dance floor. 

Taking a large sip of wine, you let it warm you as you squared your shoulders. You would not cower, you would not shy away. And now was a better time than any.

So you strode directly to them, Feyre’s stare softening as Rhys pardoned himself from his conversation. Then, they were walking towards you to. 

You stopped a few paces shy from each other. Staring. It was…. awkward. 

But then Rhysand smiled. Warm and genuine and familiar. You hoped he didn't hear your silent curse to him. 

“You look well,” he said. 

You nodded, acknowledging the half-compliment, sensing their relief. No, you weren't that broken withered girl you were when you left. 

“How is Nyx?” The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them. You would have been more annoyed at yourself, but your care for that child was pure, and you knew they would never withhold him as currency. 

“He’s well, growing every day,” Feyre replied. “And walking all on his own.”

Your smile, be it small, was sincere. 

“He still… asks about you,” she added. 

Pain sliced through your heart then, and you weren't quick enough to hide it in your face. “Don’t,” you whispered, your voice strained. Gods, that didn't take long.

“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quickly, hands reaching out before she quickly drew them back in. “I didn't mean–“ she cut herself short, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

You cast your eyes to the side, blinking away the sting of tears. “It’s alright.”

Rhysand watched you intently. “Perhaps we can all use some fresh air? I spotted a terrace, free from other guests.”

The choice was yours, you knew that. You had things you wanted to say, and you were sure they did to. You nodded, following their lead as you quickly cast a look backwards, Tamlin offering you a tight nod as you left the room.

————

“So, mission work in Spring?” Rhys asked, wine swirling in his hand as he leaned casually against a column, warm summer breeze surrounding the three of you as the party continued faintly below. 

You nodded, your arms crossed at your chest. 

“It’s very impressive,” Feyre added from where she sat, offering a genuine smile. 

You didn't respond, unsure of how much detail to reveal. Rhysand caught on, sighing slightly. 

“We didn't bring you here to interrogate you for detail, It’s only that your work and whereabouts is quickly becoming widespread knowledge. We thought it was best to acknowledge that we know it too.”

“And what of Cassian and Azriel?”

“We have held true to our bargain on that.” You believed him. 

There was an award silence, unasked questions looming. 

“Are you safe there?” Feyre asked quietly.

“Very much so.”

“And Tamlin is–”

“A friend,” you said quickly. 

“– respectful to you, was what I was going to ask,” Feyre said with a knowing look.

You sighed then, running a hand through your hair. “I didn't do it to hurt you,” you said, with a straight face. You owed her no allegiance, but, you were done hurting others, and her concern did no one any good. 

“I know,” Feyre acknowledged, with the grace of a High Lady, of someone who knew that the past was the past. She shook her head then, before adding. “We worry for you, that is all.”

“He’s changed.” You were shocked at how quickly those words left your mouth. 

It was Rhys who threw you a condescending look. You hated how small it made you feel. 

“Look, I appreciate your warning, but Tamlin has shown strides of growth, he has acknowledged his mistakes and is working endlessly to undo them. When was the last time you looked within yourselves?”

Rhys flashed his eyes at you with warning, bringing an arm to comfort his wife. “Careful,” he said plainly, but a flash of darkness passed through those violet eyes. 

Damn him. And damn Feyre too. “You didn’t so much as try to stop them,” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears as you focused on her. Gods damn it – you thought you were past this, past them. But it was as if a year away meant nothing, you were just as hurt as that night you left the Night Court. Feyre watched with a pain expression as your lip wobbled. “And you didn't so much as try to apologise,” you whispered, your voice moments away from breaking. 

Feyre’s eyes now glistened with the same tears. “You shut us out,” she countered, and you could see how much your own choices had wounded her.

“What choice did I have?” you asked, brushing away a stray tear. “You think I want to be this way? You think I wanted to cast myself out? You broke my trust and lied to me, alienating me from this family. And I was supposed to come to you for an apology?”

Feyre gulped guiltily, looking at the floor. Rhys watched you intensely, a concerned frown on his face. 

“You’re right,” Feyre said quietly, grey eyes now finding yours. “But you must know Y/N, I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since the day it happened. I thought it wise for Azriel and Cassian to want to protect you, but I realised very quickly how it was that kind of thinking that trapped me within warded walls,  and that had me fleeing my home all those years ago.”

You nodded, casting your eyes upwards to not let the tears stain your face yet again. “We can't keep doing this.”

“What’s that?” Rhys asked gently. 

“This,” you gulped, waving your hands between you. “These sorry confessions and apologies, it hurts us all.”

“Alright,” Rhys said neutrally. “But you acknowledge our apology?’

“Yes.”

“Do you forgive us?”

Your lips pressed tight as you grimaced. 

“That would be a no,” Rhys said sadly, his smile broken. Feyre couldn't force one if she wanted to. 

“I want us to move forward,” you offered instead. “There is no use in resentment. It may be that we’ll continue to cross paths, and it is important to me that you know I will not respond illy.”

“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling. 

A sharp pain throbbed at your temples then, the kind that came about when you had to keep your emotions and powers under tight strain. It was instinct to rub at your temples. 

“Can I heal that for you?” Rhys was now standing in front of you, his smile remained but his eyes – heavy, saddened. 

You blinked up at him before flicking your eyes to Feyre who waited eagerly for you to respond. Was this a test? Could it be, after all that had happened, you could consider them just…friends? You searched within yourself for the right answer, but nothing came about. It was just too soon. 

But there was no harm in letting Rhys work some of his magic. “Alright,” you replied, and you heard Feyre loose a breath. 

Rhysand’s hands cupped the side of your face, his fingers pressing to your temples as the familiar feeling of him slipping into your mind sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in you, something impossible to kill that was comforted by his touch. He was, after all, your High Lord of decades. He had been your home, your family, and maybe there was some part of that would always remain. It upset you how much you had to resist the urge to wrap your arms around his waist, to pull Feyre in too, to sob of how much you missed home, your family, how much you ached while you were apart. 

It was over as quickly as it began, Rhys slipping from your mind, leaving no trace of a headache behind. You hadn't clocked that you had closed your eyes, your lip quivering as your cheeks were now wet with tears. Rhys kept his hands on your face, brushing them away. 

“Y/N–,” he said softly, his face pained. You knew what he would say – come home, even if you hate us, come home. But you wouldn't give him a chance. 

“T-thank you,” you stammered, pulling away from Rhysand’s hold and fleeing the terrace, leaving the two to their shock. 

————

You were brushing away hot, fast tears as you fled the wedding, racing towards your guest room. 

Gods, what was wrong with you today? You hated feeling like this – an unstable, blubbering mess. Nothing had changed in a year, not really. You were still the same, broken and alone. It hurt just as much to see your family now. 

To hell with this wedding. You craved a sleep tonic and to be rid of this night. That was when Tamlin fell into side-step with you. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked simply, muttering the words to avoid drawing attention as you passed through the crowd. 

“No,” you managed to say, and you could have kissed him for playing into the nonchalance. He seemed to respect privacy, even when there was little to be found. 

“I’ll walk you to your rooms.”

“No, Tam, I’m fine, you should–”

“Nonsense,” he replied, and you knew you wouldn't shake him. So you walked to your room,  sniffing through your tears as you tried to calm the current brewing at your fingertips, Tamlin by your side.

You reached your quarters, a private corner in a long corridor or rooms. The door was carved in  unique artwork, familiar somehow, as if beckoning you to enter from within. 

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” he said with an unconvinced look. 

“I will be, Tam, thank you.” 

You gave his hand a quick squeeze, before turning the handle to the door. 

And made it two paces in, before shadows filled your vision. 

————

You swore as strong hands held your shoulders, blue siphons a blur as shadows cast around you. You fought on instinct, but it was impossible to shake Azriel’s grip. 

“What in Mothers name–?!” you cursed again. 

“You’re safe,” Azriel spoke with relief. Despite yourself, your skin ignited at the husk of his voice.

“Get your damn hands off me,” you gritted, taking in the room as the smog of shadows finally cleared. 

Cassian was between you and the door, where Tamlin still stood, completely stunned. The General’s hands quickly curled into fists.

No one moved, each of you just as shocked to see the other. They had come for you, yes, but you were certain Tamlin was an unpleasant surprise. 

“Fuck,” you ground out, almost rolling your eyes as you knew the strife that now awaited your friend. 

Azriel moved you behind him, as if you needed to be shielded, protected. “What are you doing here, traitor?”

“Let her go at once,” Tamlin growled, stepping into the room. 

You stepped out from behind Azriel, your mind reeling at the sight of the two Illyrians in you room. You hated them, but something in you churned - a yearning. It was easy to stamp down as a rage took over. 

“What are you doing here?” you countered.

Azriel gave you a piercing look, running his eyes down your body. There was love in that look, but a sternness too. 

“Answer me,” you ground out. 

Cassian was still facing Tamlin, his siphons so bright they radiated heat. “Did you hurt her?” he growled at Tamlin, a shaking rage consuming him. 

“You hunted me? Like a mare?” your voice was ice cold, colder than any of these males could ever hope to perfect. Your trust, betrayed, again. 

That voice snared their attention. Cassian casting a look back at you, desperate, like he wanted to give you all of his time, to never stop drinking in the sight of you. 

You prowled closer, fingers twitching as your power grew so strong zapping could be heard. “Rhys’s promise to me, the bargain. You broke it,” you spat.

“Y/N.” Cassian said your name, begging you. His pain cut through to you, your power dampening as a sick, sick part of you folded at his plea. Go to him, that part of you begged. 

The room was filled with a sharp coldness and breeze as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into your quarters, Feyre’s face one of shock, Rhys’s one of fury. 

“What in Gods name are you doing here?” he growled at his brothers. 

“You left us no choice,” Azriel seethed back at Rhys, his wing stopping you as you silently moved to join Tamlin. 

You glared at him. “Try that again,” you growled. 

Azriel’s eyes were dark, predatory, but his brows pulled with a softness only reserved for you. “I do not trust him.”

“And I do not trust you,” you spat back. 

“The promise,” Rhys growled, glaring between his brothers. 

“Y/N, we had no idea they had come,” Feyre spoke with a desperation that you had to believe her. 

“Leave. Now.” Rhys ordered, but the males ignored him, his power underwhelming in another court. 

Cassian’s brow pulled, his face truly broken as he spoke to you. “You left us. And joined him?”

You snapped at the accusation. “I joined no one, because I belong to no one. I pursued a life beyond you, and I am a free female. Free to roam wherever I please, and fuck whoever I want.”

You words landed their mark, because both Azriel and Cassian recoiled.

And then Cassian’s face turned grave, as he slowly faced Tamlin again. “You-you touched her?”

You cursed yourself for the pointed insult – you should have known it would put Tamlin in the firing line. To his defense, Tamlin held a high chin. 

“She is a free female. Nor you or I can rob her of that.”

Azriel snarled, and Cassian was on Tamlin in an instant. 

“Stop that! Get off him! You will not hurt him!” you cried, broken at the thought of Tamlin being hurt because of you. 

But before you could throw yourself at Cassian, night magic filled the space, pulling the males apart, commanding the room to its master. And you were surprised to see Feyre walking towards them, her palms outstretched, night pouring from her as her eyes now glowed with silver. 

“Sensless violence ends now, I don’t care about the circumstance.” 

What did she mean by that?

“Leave,” Cassian snarled at Tamlin, but Tamlin held his ground. 

“He is welcomed to stay so long as Y/N sees fit,” Feyre spoke coldly, forcing Cassian’s eyes back to her. Now that, was a High Lady. “I can not believe you two–“

“You weren't invited?” you interjected, untrusting of your exes as you scowled between them. 

Rhys shook his head from across the room. “We went as far to hide the papers.”

You gulped as you stared up at Azriel. “Pray tell, how you found me, then?”

Azriel wore no remorse as he said “Amren – she possessed an invite and–”

Exasperated sounds from each of you filled the room. Amren, of course. She was the only one to know to play games above Rhys and Feyre’s head, and cunning enough to pull it off. 

“And what is your plan, then?” you added coldly. “Drag me back to the Night Court, kicking and screaming?”

“No, of course not,” Cassian responded softly, stepping towards you, stopping as you retreated back. “We had to know that you were safe.”

You stared at him, the sorrow in his voice, the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. He was broken. 

“You were not well when you left, Y/N. It’s been killing us not knowing how you are faring now,” Azriel added, his eyes soft, looking just as worn as his brother. You knew he sang silently to his shadows as they coiled in on themself, they would be begging to reach you. 

“Please, don't be angry,” Cassian begged, his eyes welling. “We’ll go, we’ll go now, it’s just–”

“We love you. We- we need you,” Azriel interjected, his own brow clenched with pain. 

Each of their words were a dagger to your heart, piercing it’s way through the walls you had built. 

“Stop that,” you whispered, your hand pressing against your chest to ease the pain. Were these your feelings, or theirs?

“It’s true,” Cassian continued. “You’re our girl. We'll do better, Y/N, we promise. Please.”

It was painful to hear, and you faltered slightly as your body jerked in pain. Something was breaking within you, crumpling around something else, something buried deep. 

“Please Y/N, come home.”

Your knees gave out as you let out an anguished cry, your heart tearing and swelling to the point where you thought you just might die. 

“Y/N!” Tamlin called in panic, but Azriel and Cassian were already at your sides, holding you, asking where it hurt. 

Palms braced on the floor, you tried to breath through laboured breaths as you finally felt what was concealed for so long. It was unmistakable, a tether of sun-lit rope, tying you to the males at either side of you. You felt it all – their fear, the instincts to take you far from this place, their overwhelming, unconditional love. 

And you hated it. 

“No,” you gasped, your hand finding your heart as you tried to calm its pounding.

Azriel glanced at Cassian, who gave a single nod in confirmation. Feyre gasped from where she stood. 

“What is it?” Tamlin panicked. “What’s going on?”

“No!” you repeated, standing quickly and backing away from the two males. It couldn't be – you were free, you had left…

They watched you with saddened eyes at the horror that beheld you. 

“The Mother is cruel,” Rhys tutted, lowering his head in sympathy.

“What in the gods-forsaken realms is going on?” Tamlin yelled.

“No, no, no, no! Please, no!” You clutched at the roots of your hair, your mind reeling as you begged to no one. You were bound to them, whether you liked it or not. An enslavement of kinds.

“It snapped,” Feyre answered to Tamlin without ever turning his way.

It was too much to bare – their instincts, your newly ignited ones, their love, your hate. Your brain scrambled for sense, fighting itself over and over as you shook at your knees. 

A final ‘no’ pushed past your lips before your body gave out, the world tipping and your vision darkening as strong hands caught you. 

You succumbed to the gods damned mating bond. 

-------

Part 5>>>

AN: Helllllllllo my lovelies! I am so so bloody excited to share this part with you! It was a rollercoaster to write, hope you held on tight for this angst-train! Always, always, ALWAYS want to hear your thoughts and feelings on where this story is heading, so please drop a comment anytime. And thank you endlessly for your support with this fic - it means the world. MWA!!

[tyunn1ngz]

taehyun nsfw alphabet

cw: maybe afab implications? i think it’s pretty sex neutral tho and as always no gender is directly stated!

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

pampers u with soothing words and gentle touches, wrapped tight in his arms w ur head on his chest so u can listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat<3 him giggling when he cups ur face after he cleans u up, ur just so cute when ur all tired out :((((

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on him his arms and his stomach ,,,,,, beautifully toned and just ......................... AAAAAAAAA. riding him w ur hands on his abs when u try to steady urself, his breathy laugh w his hands aiding u in bouncing in his lap .,,, the strength hes got that he basically does the work all himself. anyway.

on u probably ur lips, loves loves lovesssssss kissing u so much(>ω^) loves how they look when ur mouth drops open, pants and moans of pleasure, pleas for more; all falling out in a haze... and also just maaaaaybe a little obsessed w how they look around his cock :o

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

thick but i think it'd probably actually taste nice is that just me

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

loves to film himself getting off and just taking nudes in general idk how many times ive said this but ill continue to say it bc i know im right ok and im fr gonna start begging everyday to see them

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think yes, even if its just a little and he definitely knows what he's doing. he was going to be good at anything he does regardless, that shit is always in his nature somehow but now that he's been around just a tad he really knows exactly what he's doing (×_×)

f = favourite position (this goes without saying)

riding, u in his lap or on his face is actually to die for in his opinion. or just any other position where he can really showcase his strength to u, he's not fussy on the details ;p

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

a mix of both but more on the serious side, loves spitting filth that has u trembling just a little harder— but is just as obsessed w ur laugh as he is ur moans, so maybe during foreplay he'll caress u in ways that tickles just to get u giggling before he really breaks u down <3

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

trimmed nicely but not completely shaven cuz that shit gets itchy growing back in

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

intimate w him means almost no space between u, and nothing exists outside of u two and the throes of pleasure at those exact moments. and while it’s not technically romantic he loves telling u ‘i’ve got u baby’ and smth abt the way he says it always just has ur stomach swooping a little w butterflies

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

piggybacking off of answer d, i don’t think he’d jerk off a whole Lot if he can b with u instead but he absolutely makes a show out of it everytime. barely cums unless he’s looking at himself and if thats narcissistic literally WHO cares

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

besides the strength kink, biting and being bitten r huge ones for him— not only does the sensation make him cum a little harder but smth abt the possessiveness of it all that really just does it for him— ur his only and he’ll make that very well known!!!!!!!

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he took u in his studio once and hasn’t stopped thinking abt it ever since. that’s all i can really give u on that

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when u assert urself when u kiss him, ur confidence in an outfit u feel particularly hot in, probably even would pop a stiffy over if u simply just said smth really smart— or even if u said smth dumb tbh, feed into a little bit of dumbification, make his ego a lil bigger cuz he has to be the smart one in the relationship

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

probably a no to stuff like cnc, and nothing too painful or that will draw any blood— just a little pain is enough!!!

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he has no preference but he is a bit of a sucker for a blowjob bc !!!!! he loves ur lips!!!!! remember!!!!!!! (imagine his chest heaving and dark eyes looking down at u when u give him head and his hands gently pushing ur hair back and telling u how good ur doing even if u literally arent—as long as ur enthusiastic hes going to fall apart w u between his legs wooooooo boy)

when it comes to giving im telling u for the billionth time SIT on this man’s FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

prefers rough and fast, fucks so feral and so nasty and knows just how to roll his hips so u curl in on urself its so hot (//∇//)

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves a good quickie imo, spontaneous raw desire and the thrill of it all can really get him off at times. a little obsessed w fucking u up the way he wants and watching u struggle to make it look like u weren’t doing anything sus at all when u both rejoin all ur friends<3

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes!! he’d have some hard limits that he’d say no to and that’d be final but outside of that he’d try almost anything at least once!

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i imagine it would either be one round but it could go for hours— or several rounds that aren’t as long, i don’t really imagine him being the type to go all night but hey if ur still horny he’ll get u off again however he can ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

probably not many if any at all, he can make u cum so easily w just his fingers he hadn’t rly seen a need for them but he’s game to try whatever— vibrator, cock ring, handcuffs, whatever u wanna try baby!

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

big tease, but also sometimes its not on purpose he genuinely just loves the feel of ur skin on his, so his touches that seem fleeting and like they’re meant to rile u up because hes not really touching u where u want; thats not on purpose!!!! ur just so soft and u feel so nice </3

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not very loud, loves to groan right into ur ear though bc u grow a little louder in response, so reactive :3c he’s a panter, little grunts and whimpers but all breathy and just for u to hear only nobody else Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

really really wants to try a threesome w one of his friends, someone else in txt the most likely. would even settle for one of them just watching the two of u fuck, it makes him a little crazy to think abt but he doesnt even know why

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

average length but thick … and he knows how to use it….. takes long drag of cigarette…

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty average libido until he starts dating and has sex w u for the first time bc then i think itd be thru the roof im ngl here he just wants to have u all the time hes obsessed w u and everything is just so exciting

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

pretty soon after u guys clean up but u can tell he tries his hardest to stay up to talk w u a little longer— but u guys r so cozy and so tired out that he can’t keep his eyes open and neither can u, fighting sleep together w delirious giggles while ur all tangled up in his arms<3

[intheticklecloset]

Liar (Bungo Stray Dogs)

One Shot

Summary: At a celebratory tea party, Dazai lets slip that Akutagawa has a favorite spot to be tickled. Of course, his new boyfriend Atsushi simply MUST know what it is!

Word Count: 2233

~~~

“Oh, Atsushi~” Dazai sang as he set a plate of cookies on the table between them. “You know your new boyfriend is super ticklish, right?”

Akutagawa promptly choked on his tea. Atsushi laughed.

“Yeah, I know, Dazai,” the weretiger replied through a huge smile as he slapped Akutagawa’s back, trying to help.

Akutagawa, for his part, couldn’t care less if every other word he spoke came out strangled thanks to the droplets of tea still trying to slip down his windpipe. He snapped, “And what exactly was your goal in asking that? If he hadn’t known, you’d have just outed me!”

Dazai plopped down on the cushion across from them both and smiled. “Oh, that was the whole point, Akutagawa. If he didn’t know, I was going to make sure he definitely did by the end of today.”

The mafioso flushed, and Atsushi continued to smile at him.

The three of them were having tea at Dazai’s place; the detective had been so excited that they had finally made it official that he insisted on throwing a small party for them. Though Akutagawa had thought the whole thing ridiculous – and now, perhaps dangerous for him – Atsushi had found it endearing and had insisted they do it.

“Besides,” the brunette continued, “what’s the point of having a boyfriend if you can’t have a little tickle fight once in a while?”

Atsushi finally turned that smile on their host. “Speaking from experience?”

Dazai sighed dramatically. “I wish. Chuuya is cute but he can’t take a hint.”

Chuuya and Dazai had made it official a couple of months earlier, and to be honest, their getting together was what spurred Akutagawa to finally ask Atsushi out. After all, if their bosses could do it, why couldn’t they?

The detective leaned in conspiratorially. “Have you found his fluff spot yet?”

Akutagawa decided not to dare and reach for a cookie after all. He glared at Dazai instead. Atsushi looked intrigued, and that wasn’t good. That was never good.

“Fluff spot?” the weretiger asked, taking a cookie himself with no hesitation. “You mean his worst spot? I think so. It’s his ribs, isn’t it?”

Stop talking about me like I’m not here! Akutagawa wanted to yell, but he pressed his lips together firmly, blushing harder when Dazai shot him a look that told him he was in deep trouble.

“Sure, his ribs are his most ticklish spot, but I’m talking about the spot that he loves having tickled.”

Atsushi spun to his boyfriend. “You have a spot you love getting tickled? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t,” Aku shot back, though a sharp jolt of…something shot through his entire nervous system in response to the way his partner was looking at him now. Anxiety? Excitement? The desire to leap out the window and run far away from here before anyone got any ideas?

Dazai tsked. “Liar.”

That one word made the mafioso shudder in his seat. He knew that tone. How many times had he been tickled near to tears after hearing that tone? He shot his gaze over to Atsushi, who looked like a puppy who’d discovered a new squeaky toy.

“Don’t,” Aku said, throwing his pride out the window. “He’s crazy – how would he know if I had a spot like that? Which I don’t!” He shuffled slightly away from the weretiger. “He’s just trying to get you riled up for nothing. You’re the one who wanted to be here; my tea will get cold, and that would be a waste. And rude.”

Atsushi beamed from ear to ear and leaned over so their noses were nearly touching. “That’s a lot of words, Akutagawa. Are you sure you’re not the one getting riled up?”

“Why would I—?!” Akutagawa cut himself off, deciding to switch tactics. He closed the short distance between them with a long kiss, hoping that would deter Atsushi’s train of thought. It worked well enough at home.

Not here, though, apparently. Atsushi hummed happily after pulling away, then – still making eye contact with his partner – asked, “Where’s the spot, Dazai?”

Akutagawa’s eyes widened in surprise, and a little bit of panic.

Dazai started to reply, but in a blind frenzy, Akutagawa shouted, “Don’t you dare say another word, Dazai!” And then he latched onto Atsushi’s sides and dug in desperately.

“Aiiieeeee!” Atsushi squealed, bursting into giggles. He tried squirming away but Aku kept up with him easily, tackling him to the floor, tickling all the way.

The detective sighed again, this time in a dreamy way, and propped his hand in his chin as he watched them struggle. “Ah, young love.”

“Ehehehehehehehe! Quihihihihick, tehehehehehell me, Dazai!”

“Not a word!” Aku yelled, switching to his boyfriend’s tummy, a small part of him melting at the sound of his favorite person’s happy giggles while the larger part focused on distracting him however he needed to.

“You know I can’t take sides, children~”

Atsushi threw his head back with laughter and pleaded, “FIHIHIHIHINE, DON’T TEHEHEHEHELL ME!!” And for a moment Akutagawa thought he’d won, but then: “SHOHOHOHOW ME INSTEHEHEHEHEAD!!”

Shit.

Akutagawa jerked his head over to look at Dazai, who was getting to his feet, and something inside him started to crumble. “No!”

Dazai rounded the table quickly, coming up behind Akutagawa.

“No! Rashomon!”

The jet black tendrils of his coat lashed out at Dazai, and even before they reached him the mafioso knew it was useless. Thinking fast, he leapt to his feet, leaving his giggling boyfriend behind as he sprinted for the aforementioned window, fully intending to actually jump out of it now and make his escape.

But Dazai was fast, and he grabbed onto his former protégé with ease, dragging him back by the collar of his coat, effectively keeping him from using his ability anymore.

Akutagawa’s mind went blank. It wasn’t panic – although he was definitely nervous. It was one thing to have Atsushi tickle him in the privacy of their apartment or for Dazai to do it now and then just for fun, but both of them? At the same time? Working together?

He was screwed.

“Wait,” he cried as he was tossed onto his back on the ground just as Atsushi was getting up to his knees. Dazai pulled his arms above him and pinned his wrists to the floor, winking at him playfully. “No! Don’t touch me!” Atsushi plopped himself comfortably across Aku’s hips. “I swear, weretiger, I will make you pay for this—!”

“Oh, so we’re back to ‘weretiger’ now?” Atsushi teased, cracking his knuckles and wiggling his fingers just above his boyfriend’s torso, smiling when he jumped and let out a tiny noise that was somewhere between a squeak and a whine. Atsushi gave him a knowing smile. “The spot, Dazai?”

Dazai chuckled, settling in as if to watch a good show. “Oh, you’ll know it when you get to it. He can’t hide how much he loves it to save his life.”

Akutagawa was going to murder them both.

Atsushi jabbed two fingers into either side of Aku’s ribs and started walking them upwards in a teasing way, beaming at his boyfriend’s helpless smile, the way he bit his lip to keep from laughing. “How about it, Ryu? Feel like telling me yourself?”

“Never,” Akutagawa spat shakily, his voice wavering as he fought off his mirth. “Do your worst.”

Well, that was a mistake.

“Agh! Shihihihihit, Atsushihihihihihi!” Akutagawa burst into giggles the instant the taunt left his lips, his arms shaking in Dazai’s hold while Atsushi scribbled freely around his ribs and sides.

Dazai chuckled behind him. “Still holding on to the tough guy act, huh? Even though all three of us know you enjoy this?”

“Ahahahahahaha I do nohohohohohohot! Stohohohohop with your lihihihihihies!”

Atsushi clicked his tongue. “Lies? You’re the only liar here, Ryu.” He climbed up to his topmost ribs and vibrated his fingers. “You’ve had a favorite spot all this time and you didn’t tell me? I’m hurt. I could have been focusing on it for you all this time.”

Akutagawa shook his head defiantly. “I dohohohohohohon’t! He’s lyihihihihihihing!”

“You going to tell me you don’t like being tickled, too?”

“I swehehehehehear I dohohohohohohon’t!” Aku bucked his hips when his boyfriend suddenly shot back down to his bottom ribs – the worst ones. “GAHAHAHAHA Ahahahahahatsushi!!”

Atsushi shifted so he was looming above Akutagawa, leaning closer to him with a smirk. “You don’t? Not even when I do this?” He glanced up at Dazai. “Avert your eyes.”

Dazai scoffed playfully. “Please. We’re all adults here.”

Atsushi nestled his face into the crook of Aku’s neck and started nibbling gently, all while continuing to wiggle his fingers into the older man’s ribs.

Akutagawa’s eyes flew wide open. “Ah! Ahahaha, no! Nohohohoho, not that! Atsushi, stahahahahap!” He squirmed and pulled at his trapped wrists and started laughing in earnest, his resolve breaking with every tickle. “Shihihihihihit!”

“Language,” Dazai admonished teasingly, and suddenly Akutagawa felt fingers in his armpits, too, making him snort and begin to really writhe and cackle. It took him a moment to realize that his former boss had joined in on the fun. That he was being tickled by both of his favorite people at the same time.

“Ehehehehehehehe stahahahahahap! Bohohohohohoth of you, cehehehehehease this at ohohohonce!”

Atsushi murmured into his ear, “Gonna tell me now?”

“Never!”

“Okay.” The younger man sat up again, smiling wide with eyes gleaming, clearly enjoying this guessing game. He scooted back so he was kneeling above Akutagawa’s flailing legs and slid his tickling fingers down to his boyfriend’s sides.

Akutagawa’s laughter died down a notch once the focus on one of his hot spots let up, though he still giggled and squirmed and shook his head and spat out demands for them both to cut it out already, to let him go, that he didn’t have a favorite spot, goddammit!

But then Atsushi moved to his waist, and Aku’s breath hitched, and Dazai hummed knowingly. “Getting warmer, Atsushi~”

“Shuhuhuhuhuhut up!” Akutagawa’s voice was more pleading than demanding now, and even though his heart was already racing from all the exercise, he swore he felt it begin to pick up even more speed.

“Oh? Is it here, Ryu?” Atsushi teased, still tickling his waist.

“I’ll nehehehehever tell—” Akutagawa started, cutting himself off as he began to cough, feeling a fit coming on right in the middle of all the play. He shot a worried glance up at his boyfriend, but both he and Dazai had already stopped tickling, allowing him to get it out of his system and catch his breath.

Dammit, Akutagawa thought, taking deep breaths to regain his composure.

It took him a moment to realize Atsushi and Dazai hadn’t restarted their tickle attack yet.

“I’m…I’m okay,” he muttered, shifting a little, feeling embarrassed and silly.

“Do we need to stop?” Atsushi asked, genuine concern in his voice.

No—

Dazai let go of his wrists. “Your health is more important than showing off how much you love being tickled.” He started to get to his feet. “I’ll get you some more tea.”

“Wait!” Akutagawa cried, the word escaping him before he could stop himself.

All movement stopped. The silence in the room was unbearable. Akutagawa battled himself, trying to figure out what to say next.

Atsushi’s fingers brushed his cheek, drawing their eyes together. “What do you want, Ryu?”

And that, right there, was Aku’s undoing. Those eyes – those sweet, gentle, kind eyes that had never looked at him with anything but respect even when they were trying to kill each other. Those eyes and that voice and the quiet, genuine question were what finally broke him.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Keep…keep going,” he said, just above a whisper. “Please. Don’t stop now. I want…” Akutagawa used his freed hands to his advantage and covered his face. “I want more.”

Silence. Again.

Then a soft grip around his wrists, pulling them away so he had no choice but to look up at his boyfriend’s smile. “You do have one. A favorite spot.”

“Yes.” Akutagawa was done fighting, done pretending. He glanced over at Dazai, then back at Atsushi, pleading with his eyes. Imploring. Don’t make me beg for it.

Atsushi beamed, tickling his waist again, seeming pleased at the way his partner immediately dissolved into giggles so freely, almost eagerly.

“I was getting warmer, was I?”

“Yehehehehes!”

“Then…” Atsushi finally latched onto his hips. “Is it here?”

Akutagawa couldn’t even reply. His hands flew down to grab Atsushi’s forearms while his head tipped back and laughter – pure, unfiltered, belly laughter – poured out of him like a dam bursting, his smile wide and his cheeks red and unable to hide how much he loved this feeling. Unable to deny it even if he wanted to.

But he didn’t, he realized. He wanted Atsushi to know he loved this. So he could be tickled here more and more in the future, in tandem with the spots that made him scream and Atsushi smile like the sun.

“You were right, Dazai. I see it now,” Atsushi said over Akutagawa’s laughter.

Dazai’s grin was evident in his voice. “Look at that smile! You love it, don’t you, Akutagawa?”

The mafia part of him wanted to scream, shut up!

But the real part of him – the part of him only these two could see – instead screamed, “YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!!”

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 1 (Introductions)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble. 

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 7.1K

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 1 Quote: "Fuck. I might be in trouble."

Dieter’s POV

“Lenny, have you seen this fucking schedule? It’s seven days a week for twelve weeks. When do I get a break?” 

Lenny, my agent, sighed through the speaker phone, “D, I told you this was going to be a lot of work before you agreed to do it. You shouldn’t be surprised…and besides, that’s only if you make it to the finals.”

I scoffed, “Thanks for the vote of confidence…asshole.” Lenny chuckled on the other end of the line. We both went quiet for a moment as I continued to flip through the packet of paper that Lenny had sent over for review, “I don’t even get to have any say on the wardrobe or music. Such bullshit…sucking all the fun out of it. Did you at least drop a bug in their ear about who I’ll be partnered with? If I get stuck with someone I don’t want, I’m gonna be fucking miserable.” 

“I did, but the producers said they always do the partner matching themselves. They have a formula…or something. Maybe bring it up again at this morning's meeting and explain why. They may listen to you on it.” 

I huffed as my eyes continued skimming over the weekly schedule, “I have to get a fucking spray tan every week? You have GOT to be kidding me…Lenny, you know I don’t like using carcinogenic chemicals on my body.” 

“Uhhh, no comment on that…Look, I’ll put in a call and see if they can use something natural for that.” 

I relaxed some, “I would appreciate that. Thank you. Tell them I have an allergy or something…just make it happen.” 

I tossed the packet onto the table and picked up my phone, taking it off speaker and putting it to my ear - now pacing as I spoke, “Well, it looks like I’m gonna be pretty busy for a bit. That’ll be a nice distraction. It beats being locked inside the house at least.”  

Lenny hesitated, but still asked, “How are you doing with everything? Still managing ok?” 

I sighed, “Yeah, I mean I’m going to therapy and all the meetings still. I’ve been doing ok…just trying to keep the stress levels down. That’s what gets to me the most.” 

“How long has it been?”

I looked at the date on my watch, “Eight months today…actually. It’s the longest I’ve ever been clean, and I plan to stick to it this time. I’m feeling good and I want to keep it that way.” 

“Everyone is really proud of you, D. You know that, right? Keep at it and we'll have you back on top in no time.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing that it was an uphill battle, “I appreciate that, but good luck getting people to change their opinion of me. I’m not sure if my reputation is salvageable at this point. Everyone seems to think my sobriety is some sort of joke. No one is taking it seriously.”

I could hear Lenny inhale deeply on the other end of the phone, “It’s just going to take time, D. Don’t give up yet.” 

I pursed my lips in thought, “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I need to get ready for this meeting. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

“Yeah, definitely let me know how it goes.”  

Once I hung up the phone with Lenny, I took a quick shower, then spent longer than I should have staring at the clothes hanging in my closet - trying to pick something that says I have my shit together. My therapist kept reminding me that if I dressed like a slob, people were going to treat me like one. So, I was putting more effort into making myself presentable before I left the house these days. Since it was a work meeting, I went for a business casual look, figuring I couldn’t go wrong with that. After styling my hair and getting dressed, I grabbed my keys, phone, wallet, and sunglasses and headed out the front door.

As I approached my car, which was parked in the driveway, I noticed there was a dead bird on the hood. The fluffy gray, brown, and white stray cat that had been hanging around my house was sitting next to it, looking rather proud of himself. I sighed, “Come on dude, really?” And this is why I need to get the garage cleaned out. I hit the clicker to open the garage door so I could get a broom to knock the bird off the hood. As I waded through the mountain of empty boxes from my move six months ago, I cursed myself for taking my sweet time getting that stuff out of the house. Finally finding the broom, I quickly moved to get the dead bird off of the car and shooed the cat away. He didn’t look happy about it as he moved to sit on the pathway in front of the house, watching me until I was finally on my way to Television City Studios to meet with the producers of Dancing with the Stars. 

When I arrived at the studio, I was met by the two executive producers, Stacia and Joe and led into a conference room. I let them do their spiel about what’s expected and the schedule. Nodding along in all the right places, being as polite as possible even though I hated how little say I had over anything. Once they moved on to the topic of how they choose partners, I spoke up for the first time, “I would really like to have input on my partner.” They both moved to speak before I held up my hand to signal that I wasn’t finished talking. 

“Look, I know you all have your formula or whatever, but I have a legitimate reason for asking. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve been trying to clean up my image. I’ve been sober for eight months and I would really like to be placed with someone that doesn’t have a reputation for partying…someone who isn’t gonna be a negative influence on me. It’s actually really important to me because I’m actively avoiding being around anyone who is into that kind of lifestyle.” Which is why I spend most of my time alone.  

Stacia and Joe looked at each other, obviously surprised at my reasoning for the request. They were actually stunned into silence. Since neither of them said anything, I continued, “I had my team check into the dancers, and based on their recommendation…I’m requesting that Katarina Stamos be my partner. She has a good reputation and I’m also told she’s very professional and isn’t judgmental…because that’s been an issue here lately that I’d really like to not have to deal with.”

Stacia’s brow furrowed, “Are you looking to actually win? Because Kat hasn’t won a single season that she’s been with us.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. What an asshole thing to say about someone. “Well, maybe that’s because you keep giving her shitty partners.” 

I gave Stacia a sarcastic smile. She had the audacity to look offended by that statement. I had watched the show and seen the people Katarina was partnered with. It was always the older guys that could hardly move. Stacia’s attitude made me more determined to have Katarina as a partner just to prove a fucking point on her behalf. 

Joe interrupted the silent standoff that Stacia and I now seemed to be having, “Alright, let’s think about this…” He turned to Stacia, “Physically, they work together. Their height and proportions are a good match…and Kat is very patient. She would work well with him. Also, if he wishes to be with someone who isn’t into partying, Anika is not the person he needs to be with.”

Stacia looked frustrated and unwilling to give in as she glared at her counterpart. Joe smirked, “If you're worried about the change in narrative, it’s possible there may be other options we haven’t considered.” 

What the fuck does that mean? I leaned forward on my elbows, “What narrative?” 

They both turned to look at me, Stacia now had a sly smile on her face. It was Joe who answered, “We always consider the possible narratives that could come up between partners. How they’ll interact and get along personality wise. It’s an important factor for the show.”

I felt a crease form between my brows, “So basically, you try to manufacture drama for TV.”  

Joe shook his head, “Not exactly, I mean ultimately, yes. We just take personalities and such into account when we pair the dancers with their celebrities. I mean, we do want everyone to get along with their partner, obviously.”   

So, you’re fucking meddlers. Got it. I arched my brows, giving them a tight smile as I nodded, going along with what they were telling me. I now realized I would have to keep an eye on these two. I didn’t feel like they had my best interest in mind. Especially if they were initially planning to put me with the known party girl. 

I cleared my throat before speaking again, “So what does that mean…do I get to work with Katarina or not?” 

Stacia looked at me, now smiling, “I think that may actually be a good match now that I think about it. So yeah, we’ll let you work with Kat. Hopefully you’ll both make it through to finals.” 

What is this woman’s deal? Geez Louise. I eyed them both suspiciously for a moment, “Ok, good. Now I’m finally a little excited about this.”   

They went over a few more details about the schedule before taking me out to meet with a production assistant, who was tasked with giving me a tour of the building and showing me where my dressing room would be. This part of my day couldn’t end soon enough… 

Katarina’s POV

As I was pulling into the Television City Studios parking lot for the first day of my last season on Dancing with the Stars, my phone pinged with a text from Alec, my fiancée.

Alec: I finished up my meeting with production. Are you here? Have you had yours yet?

I leaned my head back against the seat. What the hell has he been doing? I know his meeting was over an hour ago.

Me: Just parked, I have mine in 10 minutes. I’m on my way in…Meet you in the lobby. 

A few minutes later, I found Alec in the lobby. He seemed more excited than he normally was on the first day as he greeted me with a quick kiss on the cheek. 

I leaned away from him, “What’s got you so smiley this morning?” I could tell he was trying to temper it down and have a more neutral expression on his face as he shrugged, “I didn’t realize I was. Guess I’m just excited to see you.” 

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. What are you hiding now you asshole. He didn’t know how well I could read him at this point. 

I arched a brow instead of returning his smile, “So, I assume you found out who your partner is gonna be?”

He continued his attempts at a neutral expression, “Yeah, Lana Thompson…she’s an actress, I think. There was apparently a last minute change to the lineup this morning. You know her?” 

I gave him a tight smile, “Yeah…I know her. She has a bit of a reputation…”  

He feigned ignorance, “Oh? I don’t know anything about her. I’m sure she’ll turn out to be one of those stuck up, bitchy types like the rest of ‘em. Ya know, you’re lucky it’s your last season so you don’t have to deal with these people anymore.” 

And there it is. He doth protest too much. He was excited to be paired with her, I could tell. He saw it as an opportunity. As far as I knew, he hadn’t strayed to another woman in some time, but that didn’t mean he had changed. He still hadn’t earned my trust back and his current excitement only made me more suspicious of his commitment. 

Alec could sense the tension taking hold of my body as he rubbed at my lower back, “Everything ok, baby?”

I gave him a half-hearted smile, “Yeah, just peachy. I’ve gotta go or I’m gonna be late. I’ll catch up with you after.” 

As I was walking down the hallway toward the conference room, I saw Lana Thompson exiting the bathroom. I suspected Alec had already met his partner and liked her more than he let on. Which probably explains why it took him as long as it did to text me. 

When I entered the conference room, Stacia and Joe sat huddled together. They seemed to be engrossed in whatever they were whispering about, but abruptly stopped talking once they realized I was lingering in the entryway. They both smiled, almost over enthusiastically as they welcomed me and motioned for me to have a seat. They studied me for a moment before Stacia finally spoke, “How are things going with you?” 

That’s an odd question and an odd tone. I wasn’t sure what kind of answer she was looking for, “It’s going good, why?” 

She gave me a small smile, “I know it’s your last season because you have things going on…but do you think you’re feeling up to the possibility of making it to finals?” 

I gave her a confused look, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Joe leaned forward, “What Stacia is trying to say is…the person we have you partnered with this time is going to be a little more physically able than your usual partners. So, you may be in it for the full twelve weeks…if you can pull it off. Are you physically able to handle it?” 

Should I be offended by that? It’s not like I can’t function. It was just painful some days, especially when there were a lot of rehearsals. My joints couldn’t handle the Latin dances like they used to - the jerky movements exacerbating the inflammation and discomfort. That didn’t mean they had to treat me like a fragile porcelain doll though. 

I narrowed my eyes at them, “Of course I can handle it. I could handle it this entire time…which is why I’ve been asking for more capable partners.” 

Joe smiled, “Well, good. Maybe you can go out with a bang this season.” 

What the fuck was this about? I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as I tried to figure out their angle. There was always an angle with them, “Why do I feel like you’re trying to sell this to me?” 

Joe grimaced slightly. “We’re not trying to sell it, but we do worry you won’t be happy about it.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the seat, “Who is it?” 

Stacia smirked, “It’s Dieter Bravo.”

I looked between the two of them, “You’re joking?” 

They shook their heads in unison. This didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t he be better suited with one of the girls that enjoyed a lifestyle similar to his? 

“What makes you think he and I will work well together? I know I have a lot of patience, but it does have its limits.” 

Joe chuckled, “His people requested you specifically. He’s actually eight months sober and they want him with someone who isn’t going to get him into trouble. He’s trying to clean up his image.” 

I scoffed, “I thought you didn’t let the celebrities have any say in who they’re partnered with?”

Joe leaned forward onto the table, “We don’t normally, but given his request and the reasons for it, we felt we should make an exception. We were thinking of putting him with you anyway.”

I shook my head, “You are aware of his reputation, right? Alec is gonna lose his shit over this.” 

Stacia smiled, “It’s not your or Alec’s choice. We run the show.”

It dawned on me then. Alec had said there was a last minute lineup change this morning and that’s why he was put with Lana. I had somehow managed to fly under the radar when it came to the producers' manufactured bullshit, but now I was right in the middle of it. They were making moves to create an underlying narrative for the show. 

“Who was he partnered with originally? I know it wasn’t me.” 

Stacia looked surprised by my question, “He was never partnered with anyone else before you.”

Stacia was lying. She couldn’t look at me directly when she answered my question - it was her tell. I knew how their minds worked. Dieter Bravo had a reputation for causing trouble and they were looking to exploit it. I’m sure his request caused a hiccup in their plans, so now they were making adjustments to cause drama surrounding him any way they could. 

My eyes shifted between the two of them, “I don’t know what your endgame is here, but I have no intention of playing, just so you know.”

Stacia and Joe sat expressionless, not giving anything away. I assumed they expected this sort of response from me. My tendency to push back at their plans was one of the reasons I wasn’t a favorite of theirs and most likely part of the reason they always worked to get me off the show as soon as possible, every season. Which sucked for my bank account. To add to their reasoning, I wasn’t interesting enough since I never had issues with my partners or whirlwind romances that made for good TV. However, this season they were taking a chance, throwing two bombs in the form of Lana and Dieter into my already tumultuous relationship with Alec. Hoping for an exciting outcome that would play out behind the scenes to stir up tabloid fodder and result in free promotion for the show.  

Joe sighed, finally speaking to break the tension in the room, “For what it’s worth, we met with Dieter earlier this morning…he was actually very pleasant and agreeable. I don’t think he’ll be an issue for you, so long as he continues to stay sober.”

My brows furrowed, “It sounds like you have a lot of faith in him. Good to know.” I moved to stand, “Well, if there isn’t anything else you need from me…”

Joe smiled weakly in my direction, “No, I think that’s it for now…just make sure you review the schedule and let us know if you have questions.” 

I gave them a sarcastic smile before moving to leave the conference room. As I rounded the corner in the hallway, looking down at the floor lost in my thoughts and frustration, I ran into someone. I started mumbling my apologies as I looked up at the stranger. I was met with a mess of curls, piercing dark eyes, and a dimpled lop-sided grin. It was Dieter fucking Bravo looking like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said through a chuckle with his hands on my shoulders to catch me from running head first into him. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he can’t call me that.  

He had a slight smirk on his face now, “Katarina, right? Looks like we’re gonna be dance partners.” 

I shook my head, my lips set in a tight line, “Don’t call me that.” 

His brow furrowed, “What? Katarina?” 

I scoffed, “No, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. It’s inappropriate. You can call me Kat like everyone else.” 

He was obviously taken off guard by my cold demeanor as he gave me a confused look, “I didn’t…mean anything by it, I-I call everyone sweetheart.” 

I nodded, “Well, you're not gonna call me that.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a beat, “I guess I’ve earned that. Sorry, I won’t do it again.” 

I inhaled deeply, biting my bottom lip as I did so. It didn’t go unnoticed that his eyes shifted down to my mouth. “Look, this is my last season and I just wanna get through it without any drama, ok?”

A crease formed between his brows as his jaw ticked to the side, “What makes you think I’m gonna cause drama?”

I shook my head, now realizing how big of a jerk I was being, “Umm…I…”

He continued to stare at me with a burning intensity, “Just so you know, I’m sober…have been for eight months. Drama is not my thing these days…”

I gave him a tight smile, “Good…hopefully you can stick to it.”  Fuck. That did not come out how I meant for it to.

I could see his jaw muscles flex before he let out a small laugh. His eyes finally shifted downward. He almost looked hurt by that comment. 

I sighed, “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” 

His brows arched as he peered at me through his lashes, “You know, I requested to be partnered with you because I was told that you're professional and wouldn’t be judgmental about my past…I guess I heard wrong. I suppose I should just expect it at this point, right? Maybe I shouldn’t have such high expectations of others.” 

My mouth fell open as I shook my head. I’m such a fucking asshole. He didn’t give me a chance to say anything before he spoke again, “I guess I’ll see you at rehearsals tomorrow. Have a good afternoon.” He gave me a sad smile as he brushed past me. I stood there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot watching him as he walked toward the exit. That was a great first impression. Good job, Kat. 

“Who was that?” Alec asked from behind me. 

I turned, running my fingers through the top of my hair out of frustration, “That was my new dance partner.” 

Alec squinted toward the figure standing near the exit, now stopping to look at his phone, “Is that Dieter Bravo?” 

I could feel my jaw tighten as I took in Alec’s expression, “Yes, it is.” Alec’s head snapped toward me, “I don’t want you working with him.” 

I smiled sarcastically, “Really? And you think I have a choice in that? They made it clear, there is no other option. I asked.”

Alec shook his head, “You could just not do this season. You're quitting anyway. Why not go ahead and drop out?” 

My eyes widened at his suggestion, “Because I need the fucking money, you know that.” 

He chuckled, “Right, for the dance studio.” 

I scoffed, “Yeah, for the dance studio. I don’t understand why you can’t support me on that.” 

Alec didn’t acknowledge my question, “This guy is a known womanizer. I’m not comfortable with this.” 

My head tilted to the side, “So you don’t trust me. That’s rich coming from you. You know…I’m not excited about your partner either, but I didn’t tell you to drop out. If anyone has a right to be concerned, it’s me.” 

Alec moved in closer, causing me to back up against the wall as he got in my face. His eyes were blazing with anger, “You’re never gonna let that shit go, are you? That was ten months ago, and I have been loyal to you ever since. Yet here you are…still throwing it in my fucking face.” 

I had a sudden defiant streak hit me, “You’re the one who brought it up by insinuating that you couldn’t trust me. I’m just reminding you who the problem is in this relationship.” 

Alec moved to put his hand on the wall next to my head as he leaned in further - his nose nearly touching mine as I turned my stoney face away from him, “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again,” he spat out.   

I could feel his eyes drift over my face for a moment before he pulled away and walked off. 

I huffed out a quiet “Fuck” as I exhaled a shaky breath and watched him walk toward the dressing rooms. When I glanced back toward the exit, Dieter was still standing there, frozen in place with his phone halfway to his ear. Once he realized I was looking his way, his head dropped downward, and he slowly turned to exit the building.   

 Dieter’s POV 

As I walked out into the scorching afternoon sun, I ended the call to check my voicemail, deciding I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. I was frustrated by my first interaction with Katarina. It didn’t go how I expected, and honestly, she had hurt my feelings. Based on everything I had heard about her, I didn’t think she would throw my past up in my face like that. At least not immediately, if at all. She did seem a little flustered, maybe she was just having a bad day? 

What followed after our exchange was even more bizarre. It looked like she was having a tense conversation with the man that I assumed was the one she was dating. Lenny had mentioned she was engaged to one of the other dancers. When the man first leaned in, I initially thought they were just having a private moment, but then I noticed the look on Kat’s face as she turned away from him. Something about it was unsettling and for a brief moment, I considered interrupting them. Luckily, I didn’t have to. However, I was left feeling that I had witnessed something I wasn’t supposed to.

Even though our conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, I was still struck with how beautiful Katarina was in person. Pictures and TV didn’t do her justice. It was probably a good thing she was seeing someone, otherwise I would be in danger of making a fool of myself. Then again, I probably would anyway. My sober self didn’t seem to know how to act around a pretty lady. My confidence and self-assurance definitely weren’t on the same level these days. 

When I got home, I spent more time than I would like to admit staring at my reflection in the mirror - trying to remind myself that I was no longer the piece of shit that everyone still saw me as. It was still hard for me to accept that the old me and the new me were two very different people. Some days it really did seem like it was easier being the old Dieter Bravo, because he didn’t care about how he was perceived by others. I often longed for him to come back, just to quiet the thoughts of self-hate and inadequacy. Those thoughts really could be suffocating and hard to overcome. It was near impossible living with myself on those days.

The anticipation of how our first rehearsal would go was starting to get to me. So, I decided to spend the rest of the evening trying to relax and take my mind off things. With classical music blaring from the sound system, I moved through the house to check in on my plants - watering, misting leaves, and pruning. It was a new hobby I had picked up since rehab. It started with one succulent plant that had seen better days. My neighbor had left it sitting next to the trash bin on garbage collection day. For some reason, I had an urge to attempt to save the shriveled mass. After a few weeks, it was showing new life as the deep purple hues started to form on the leaves. My plant obsession bloomed from there. Now I wasn’t even sure how many I had. I was fairly certain my housekeeper was going to quit if I brought any more home. 

After I was finished with the plants, I spent some time painting until I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer. It was nearing midnight by the time I had showered and crawled into bed. Even though I was completely exhausted, I couldn’t shut my mind off. The anxiety was now building to problematic levels. It was always at this point that I thought about using the most. By now, the old Dieter would be a couple lines in and a few drinks deep to block out the thoughts. The new Dieter suffers through it as he lay in bed alone, staring into the darkness. I drug both hands down my face and huffed loudly before moving to switch on the lamp beside the bed. I reached for my latest self-help book and began reading.  

I was startled awake by my 7 AM alarm. I groaned as I felt around next to me on the bed for the shrilling phone to shut it off. I sat up, still half out of it, causing the book that had been lying on my chest to fall to the floor with a loud thump. I got up from bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes as I walked toward the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I stood staring at my reflection again, “You look like shit, Bravo.” It was clear I hadn’t gotten much sleep from my dark circles and puffy eyelids. I threw a warm rag over my eyes for a few minutes in hopes that would help.

Standing in my closet staring at the pile of gym clothes my stylist had picked up, I selected a random pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then pulled the tags off. We weren’t allowed to wear anything with brands or logos on filming days, so I had to break down and buy more clothes. It was probably for the best, my old gym clothes were looking a little ratty anyway.    

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my backpack that had a few essentials in it and headed toward the front door. As I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind me, I was greeted by my furry squatter who had left another gift near the steps - a dead mouse. I sighed, “Well, at least it’s not on top of the car this time…” The fluffy menace meowed at me as he rubbed against my legs, as if to say, “Look what I did!” 

I was determined to not give in to the furry intruder, so I disregarded his attempts for pets. “Don’t you have a family somewhere to annoy?” I muttered to him as I continued toward the car. He followed me halfway down the pathway before sitting down and flicking his tail around as he watched me get into the driver's side and shut the door. He didn’t look happy about being ignored. 

I gave myself a quick glance in the rearview mirror, reaching to comb down my hair with my fingers. I hadn’t bothered to fix it, knowing it was going to turn into a mess no matter what I did to it. Then, I started the car and drove in silence to the dance studio, not even really sure how I got there as I pulled into the parking lot. I found myself wondering if I had run any redlights as I walked through the main entrance. I felt like I was in a haze as the camera team talked to me in the lobby to fill me in on the plans for filming. 

They wanted to do a brief interview with me before I went into the studio with Katarina. They wanted me to give the whole spiel about how excited I was to be here and working with my dance partner. Truth is, I wasn’t excited. I was nervous as hell, and I was supposed to act like this was the first time I was meeting her. I was unsure of how to act toward her, so when the time came for me to walk through the door to greet her and act excited, I turned on the Dieter Bravo charm the best I could and pretended like yesterday’s conversation never happened.

I was surprised to find how well Katarina did the same thing as she came over to greet me with a smile and a hug and gushed about how excited she was to work with me. However, we were both avoiding looking at the other directly. Clearly there was still some lingering awkwardness between us. After they filmed the introduction, they wanted to get some quick shots of us rehearsing. 

These first few days of rehearsal were meant for learning the basics. We were not actually getting into the first routine yet. We started with some simple stretches and moved into learning the proper frame, the different types of positions, and spacing for the different types of dances. It was all very high level and fast, but Katarina had promised that we would go over it in more detail once the film crew left for the day. The quick pace was mostly for the benefit of the film crew so they could get what they needed and move on to the next couple. 

Once filming was done for the day, we took a seat on the floor for a water break as the crew gathered up all of their gear to leave. We mostly sat in awkward silence until we were finally alone. I could feel Katarina’s eyes on me as I stared at the water bottle in my hand. She spoke first. 

“I feel like I should apologize about yesterday…I was having a shit day and kind of took it out on you. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean what I said.” 

I pursed my lips and shrugged, “It’s fine. I’m used to it at this point.” 

She reached out and grasped my wrist with her left hand, the heat of her touch raced through me as I looked at the glittering ring on that finger for a moment before meeting her eyes, “It doesn’t mean that it should keep happening though. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you. Everyone deserves a second chance.” 

I huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, except I’m on like my tenth chance. I understand why no one takes me seriously. Really, it’s not that big of a deal.” 

Her face softened as she stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to decide what she wanted to say next. Then she shifted her body to face me as she crossed her legs, “It is a big deal. It’s a big deal to me because I know better. You know…” 

She paused, appearing to gather her thoughts. I moved to lean back on my hand and face her more fully with my legs stretched out to the side. My teeth bit into my bottom lip as I watched her face shift to a somewhat pained expression. It was brief, but I still caught it before she gained her composure. 

“My uhh…my dad was sober for about 14 years before he passed. I know how hard it was for him in the beginning…with everyone doubting him and not giving him a chance. It’s one of the reasons he relapsed the first few times. It can be hard when you don’t have any support from the people around you. I know that…and I don’t wanna be one of those people. You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you, so I wanna make sure I’m giving you a fair shot and support you as long as you’re actively trying to better yourself. I know first-hand that people do change.”

Is she fucking serious? I couldn’t move or speak. She had stunned me again for the second day in a row. I never would have guessed she would share something so personal, especially on our first day together. She seemed sincere in her apology.   

I finally managed a curt nod before I reached to rub at the crease between my brows, “Thanks…I uhh…I appreciate that.”  I let out a small laugh, “I appreciate it more than you probably realize, actually.” 

She gave me a tentative smile, “Does that mean I’m forgiven for being an asshole then?” 

I chuckled, “Of course…and I didn’t think you were an asshole. Not really. I had a feeling you were having a bad day.”

“Whew…ok. Good. I was worried I had already fucked this whole thing up before it started.” 

Ok, it’s kind of hot when she says fuck. I smirked, “Does this mean I get to call you sweetheart now?” 

She narrowed her eyes on me and shook her head, “No. No sweetheart.” She laughed quietly, “But, I might consider a different nickname if you come up with a good one.” 

My lips spread into a cheeky smile, “I think I can come up with something.” She laughed into the top of her water bottle as she took a sip with a slight flush creeping up her neck. Am I flirting right now? I don’t even know what I’m doing. Geez. I looked away in an attempt to reign myself in. I can’t be doing that.  

We were soon back at it, now with a more relaxed atmosphere. We again started with getting my frame right. I stood in place as she moved my arms to the proper position, pushing in between my shoulder blades to straighten my posture. After several minutes in the position, I couldn’t help the groan that slipped out, “This is gonna do a number on my back muscles, isn’t it?” 

She snickered, “You will definitely have better posture by the time I’m done with you. Now, elbows up, you should have a horizontal line from elbow to elbow…and hold it there.” 

She then stood in front of me, taking in my form for a moment before manipulating my hands into the proper position. 

Smiling, she nodded in satisfaction as she stepped closer, “Ok, now let’s go over the hold. The hold is important because it’s how we connect…how our bodies communicate movement to lead and follow.” 

As she spoke, she moved closer, placing her arm along the top of my right one and clasping my left hand in hers. She was very matter of fact with her words as her eyes bore into mine. It was almost distracting. 

“I need you to make sure there’s no space between our arms…here, so keep your elbow flush against mine.” She bounced her arm against the top of my right one to emphasize what she meant. “This is an important connection point because I can feel the pressure from your arm, which will tell me how to follow. As for your left hand, keep it at my eye level. We apply pressure here as well for another connection point.”    

All I could do was nod along with her words, completely mesmerized by her intensity. Once she felt we had the hold down, she began to explain the differences in spacing for standard ballroom versus Latin dances. 

“So…in Latin style dances, we’ll have more space between us…like we are now. It gives us more room to move. We’re gonna be slightly offset from each other while maintaining this closed position. Got it?”

I nodded again as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I wanted to look at her directly, but I couldn’t. Between her eyes burning into me and the tingling from her touch, I felt like my skin was on fire. I didn’t know what to make of it and it was sort of fucking with my head.

Then she stepped even closer, the front of our bodies nearly flush as she slightly adjusted the position of our arms. I swallowed hard over her proximity and the tangy citrus scent that was now invading my senses. Fuck. I might be in trouble. 

“For standard dances, like the Waltz and Foxtrot, we’re gonna be closer…like this. Our frame will be a little wider and our arms will be positioned slightly lower. We’ll both be looking off to our left instead of directly at each other.”   

I cleared my throat, stepping back slightly, “Sooo…umm…do we look off to the left for Latin dances?” 

Her brows arched as her eyes widened, “Good question. I should have mentioned that. There’s typically more direct eye contact in the Latin dances. It’s actually another form of connection…another way for us to communicate without words.”

She moved back into the Latin dance hold, now making direct eye contact with me. I couldn’t help how my eyes roamed over her face, taking in the minor changes in her expression as she spoke. I wasn’t sure if the close proximity of the standard hold or direct eye contact with the Latin hold was worse. They were both a little overwhelming. 

“Alright, let’s try some steps. We can start with the Rumba.” 

She broke away for a moment to show me the foot movement, then had me give it a try. After a successful attempt, she positioned us back into the Latin hold and we began moving together. Once it seemed we had the footwork down, she backed away with a smirk on her face. 

“You’re actually really good at this, you know. We do need to work on eye contact though.”

I smiled nervously as I looked down at my feet and rubbed the back of my neck, “I’m sorry…I know. Direct eye contact is a little weird for me.” I glanced up at her through my lashes, slightly embarrassed by the admission. 

She smiled and arched a brow in my direction, “Really? I never would have guessed that based on your love scenes.”

My eyes widened. I do not need to think about her watching me dick someone down on screen. Focus, Bravo. I chuckled nervously, “Yeah, I’m not usually looking directly into their eyes during those. I tend to stare between their eyebrows.” 

She gave me a sly smile now, snickering, “Oh, is that why you usually look cross eyed then?” 

My brow furrowed as I gave her a mock look of offense, “I don’t look cross eyed. That’s rude.”

She cackled over my response, “I’m joking. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one of your love scenes to know how your face looks.” 

I scrunched up my nose, “Ouch, ok…so you don’t watch my movies. Got it.” 

Her laugh had simmered to a quiet chuckle now as she lightly smacked my shoulder, “I’ve seen some…just not any with a love scene. So don’t be so offended. I’ve seen those TikTok videos though…they gave me a good idea of what I’m working with.”

I rolled my eyes, “Ugh…those fucking TikTok videos. They’re so bad.”  

I had to admit, it was nice to be joking around with her after all the tension that had built up from yesterday. I took it as a good sign that this might actually go ok. What I didn’t expect was the attraction that I was starting to feel as our day went on. However, the obnoxiously sized engagement ring she wore on her finger helped keep that in check every time I saw it sparkling in the light when she moved. As long as that shiny reminder was there, I would be ok... 

Right?

Next: Week 2

✨FUN FACTS: All cast members on Dancing with the Stars are in fact required to get a weekly spray tan. They also do not get to choose their partners, costumes, music, or themes. They can make recommendations obviously, but the producers do not have to honor the requests. When it comes to pairing partners, the producers do have a "formula".

A/N: I wanted to take a quick minute to welcome all of my new and old readers! So happy to have you all with me for my next adventure with Dieter Bravo. For the new folks, I'm a sucker for predictions and theories. If you have them, drop them in the comments so we can discuss. Now on to my normal nonsense...how are you guys feeling about the first chapter? How do you feel about Dieter and Kat's first couple of interactions? What about all the characters that were introduced? I'm curious to know who you want to throat punch more, Alec or Stacia? I'm already in love with these two and I can't wait to share more of them. This Dieter is...something else. I love sharing things from his point of view. He is going to be a good time, as expected. Kat is...kind of a mess, but also not? It's been interesting being in her head. How do you see things progressing with these two? Lastly, a quick thank you to @maggiemayhemnj for giving this first chapter a quick read through to make sure all these plot points were introduced in a way that made sense...because seriously, there is a lot going on here. She also found the perfect disco ball looking dividers for this...and I fucking love them. 😘 👉 I did a fun post about Dieter's plant hobby and his furry visitor. Check it out HERE. 👉 In case you missed it, I also did a character introduction post, which you can find HERE. Until next time, 💜 Mysty

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Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Jeonghan: Sold (Part Three)

Characters: Jeonghan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, loooots of mentions of the black market/human trafficking, people in cages, shock collars, violence, murder, guns, possible minor character death, just a lot of bad things happening here and it's very chaotic lmao

Word count: 3,253

Summary: If Jooyeon and Baekhyun never went snooping around the black market, they would’ve never discovered the human trafficking ring and wanted to help. They would’ve never discovered you inside one of the many cages full of people, and Jeonghan would’ve never went against the alphas and demanded they help. But for you, Jeonghan would do anything, even if it means bringing back trouble from a past he never knew about.

a/n: things in bold are meant to be in english

Previous | Next | Sold Masterlist

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t do it if it were Jooyeon in there. Or Yeji. Or Soomin. Or any of the girls in this household. You’d see your mate laying in a cage, dirty, exhausted, knowing they were being sold off to a pack of mate-collectors, and you’d just let them go?”

That was enough persuasion for the pack to finally cave and agree to help Jeonghan. Those who had mates understood how it felt. The others could imagine how horrible it must’ve felt to see that, and the determination Jeonghan felt to do anything possible to get you out of that situation. 

Junmyeon’s pack was hard to persuade – well, except for Chanyeol – but they eventually agreed to help.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to overtake whoever’s behind the ring, though,” Junmyeon admitted. “We don’t even know how many people are involved.”

“Hanbin will no doubt help us,” Kyung said.

“I can ask Chris, too,” Cooper shrugged. “At least having Felix or Changbin would be helpful.”

“Either way,” Seungcheol interrupted, “we’re going to plan this from all angles. Whether we have four packs or just two – we’re going to make sure we can pull this off.”

“Our main goal is getting Blue out of there,” Jihoon added on, “but we’re gonna try to save as many people as we can.”

Jongdae stopped the explanation, “Who’s Blue?”

“That’s what Jeonghan started calling her,” Joshua explained. 

“It’s the color of her collar,” the boy in question shrugged. “What else am I supposed to call her?”

“That rhymed!” Soonyoung smiled, pointing to Jeonghan enthusiastically before taking Jihoon’s palm to the back of the head.

“Where are these captives expected to go after they’re free?” Sehun wondered. “Just…wander off into the woods? They’ll just get caught again.”

“Cooper and I worked together with an ally of mine to find some safe housing for them,” Kyung explained. “Her and her partners work under the table as werewolf doctors. Besides, the public already views werewolves as horrible creatures so I’m sure anybody would be willing to take someone in who was almost a part of a werewolf kidnapping.”

“And how long do we have to figure all of this out?” Yixing questioned.

“That’s the problem,” Seungcheol sounded a little afraid and unsure now, “...we don’t know. Which means we have to plan this and execute it immediately.”

-

You felt absolute fear watching the girl be thrown to the ground, blood covering half her face. But you didn’t scream or even move. You learned not to. You did anything you were told to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Anything to not get hurt more than you already were.

“Can you be fucking careful?” one of the other men snapped gruffly at the one who’d thrown the girl to the ground by her hair. “If they’re damaged, they’re not gonna pay as much!”

“They already paid half and it was more than enough,” another said.

“But I want the other half in full!”

You knew about whoever had bought you. The men kept saying you were going to be ‘slaves to monsters’, but you were pretty sure they were the real monsters. You’d heard all the stories about werewolves, but you didn’t feel any fear knowing you were soon going to be shipped off to a den of them. However, you didn’t trust any human anymore. Your whole life, all they’d done is hurt you and betray you. None of them were compassionate. All of them just looked for personal gain, and you were somehow always in the crossfire.

Maybe a life with werewolves would be better.

In the cage next to you, you heard a scoff. You already knew it was Saoirse. She seemed to always be doing something to get in trouble, but she was the only person there that you talked to. She was the only human you’d met that wasn’t completely horrible.

“They’re gonna be in for a rude awakening when these cages are empty one morning,” she muttered.

You scooted a little closer to the edge of the cage closest to her, “What?”

Saoirse was the only person you ever spoke to. You wouldn’t necessarily consider her a friend considering the trouble she got herself in, but she was someone that you could keep at arm's length. She’d been nice to you a handful of times, so you’ve gotten her out of trouble with her language barrier in return. You spoke to each other here and there to pass the time and relieve boredom, but that was really it.

She glanced over at you like she just now noticed you were there before she looked back at the scene in the middle of the tent, “Some creatures showed up here last night. They looked human but their eyes were something else, and they promised to get us all out of here.”

You were both speaking quietly so as to not draw the attention away from the men bickering among themselves, but you still kept stealing glances over toward them to make sure they didn’t notice the two of you talking.

“And you trust strangers to save us?” you questioned.

She shrugged, “What reason would they have to come here and find us? And why would they lie about saving us?”

“What reason would they have to save us?” you countered, looking back at her.

She tisked, “Let me have something to be hopeful for, will ya?”

“Hey!” one of the men yelled, making you jump but Saoirse didn’t even seem phased. You whipped your head around while her eyes just glanced behind you to the three men. “Do you two wanna be next?”

You quickly shook your head.

Saoirse never understood what they said, so she just muttered for them to fuck off like she always did, which then angered the men because they couldn’t understand her. Typically, they’d do something to punish her, but today, the man scoffed and waved the issue away.

“The freaks will have a field day with you,” he spat before the three of them left the tent.

“Guess lunch time isn’t happening…” she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

“You need to stop making things worse for yourself,” you huffed, your voice tired.

Truthfully, you were still feeling quite groggy. You always were, but you’d woken up only a few minutes prior to the girl getting beat for whatever reason the men found to do so. You didn’t want to go back to sleep but it was hard keeping your eyes open.

“I’m not letting shit like this happen to me without a fight,” she scoffed. “If I’m capable, I’ll do anything to stop what’s happening to us. I mean, those people last night wouldn’t have come and offered to free us if I didn’t stay awake.”

“We’re all going to the same place either way,” you finally snapped, sending her a glare. “You’re fighting for nothing and making it worse for yourself – and you almost dragged me down with you. Leave me out of your…righteous bullshit or whatever.”

You rarely snapped at Saoirse, but she still didn’t seem phased by it, “You need to stop letting bad shit happen to you, Girl. That’s why it keeps happening. You don’t do anything to try and fight back.”

“And which one of us have gotten beaten the most?”

Before Saoirse could come up with a snappy reply that you knew she’d have, the tent flaps opened again, and two different men showed up with stale bread. They tossed half a loaf in each cage that everyone would fight over and tear apart like animals. Some hurt each other in the process, so hungry that they were feral for every single crumb they could get, even if it meant scratching and grabbing at each other.

As always, you stayed away in a corner and watched the other six people in your cage dive after the bread tossed in, snarling and yelling and fighting over it. You didn’t get food, but at least you weren’t injured even worse.

“Hey. Girl.”

That’s what Saoirse called you. You didn’t have a name – not that you could remember. So she always called you Girl to get your attention.

You turned your head just in time to see Saoirse tossing something through the bars and into your cage. You quickly cupped your hands to catch whatever it was. A piece of bread half the size of your fist.

You glanced back up at her and she offered you a small smirk before biting into her half of the bread. Nobody in the cage dared fight Saoirse over the portion she’d managed to get because she was infamous for fighting back. They knew fighting against her would be a losing battle because she dared to even fight back against the men holding them all captive.

Maybe it was smarter to fight back like Saoirse, even if it meant worse punishments. But life had punished you so much already, and you were tired of fighting.

As you nibbled on your bread, turning so your back was to your cagemates, you decided one really couldn’t teach old dogs new tricks.

-

The locked gate in front of the flaps to the tent was no issue for Soonyoung before, but the pack needed him focused. So the question stood as the pack planned for the prison break: how to get into the tent in the first place without running into the werewolf traps set around the perimeters?

“Okay…” Cooper began slowly and softly, afraid to speak the plan she was brewing out loud because she didn’t want it to be considered bad or stupid, “what if we had someone on the inside who could unlock the gate? Like…maybe a mouse?”

“A mouse?” Chanyeol had scoffed.

Jihoon considered the idea and shrugged slightly, “I mean, that’s not a bad idea, actually. Small enough the guards probably wouldn’t see him.”

“Where the hell are you guys gonna find a trained mouse?” Baekhyun asked with an incredulous laugh.

Chris simply pointed with his thumb to the boy sitting beside him, “Perfectly trained, right here.”

“Make that two,” Jaesang said as he raised his hand to head-level.

And that’s exactly what step one of the plan was. A tiny gray mouse scurried around the perimeter of the outside of the tent, alongside a dark brown one, going up toward the black iron gate. The outside of the gate wasn’t protected this time, but Felix and Jaesang could see two men inside the gate that were a few feet away from the entrance. 

They shimmied up one of the bars to the latch and together, managed to push it up, jumping down as the gate swung open so they could hurry inside before possibly getting stepped on, knowing they couldn’t see the people who would be following right behind them.

The two guards looked up, their conversation falling silent as the gate swung open seemingly out of nowhere.

“How the hell did that happen?” one of the men asked as they both stepped up to inspect the gate’s latch before closing it. “Did the latch break?”

“No, it looks–”

The man didn’t finish his sentence as his head was suddenly thrown back like he’d been punched in the face. The other guy looked up in surprise, only for his neck to get twisted at an unnatural angle, and with a snap, he fell to the ground. His companion soon met the same fate as a human Jaesang snuck up behind him while he was distracted with the pain in his now bloodied nose.

Seungcheol and Cooper appeared behind the first man’s body, Cooper’s hand on Seungcheol’s back being removed now that they were safe to be visible.

“There’s more guys around the back,” Felix informed them as the rest of the group began rushing in through the front gate. “We’re gonna have our work cut out for us.”

“We’ve got four packs against some humans,” Jinyoung chuckled, clearly feeling good about the odds. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Just don’t get too cocky,” Hanbin warned.

“Cocky’s his middle name,” Kyung muttered before going off with her group to subdue the men keeping the people in the cages.

-

“Alright, get up! Everybody up! Let’s go!”

It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up to a man yelling for you all to wake up, but this wasn’t a voice you’d heard before. This one was softer, but still sounded urgent. Your eyes groggily peeled open as you tried to sit up, your bones and joints stiff and aching. Your vision was blurry so you thought you were surely just seeing things when you saw someone grab ahold of the metal bars and pull them open almost effortlessly. You sat up completely and rubbed at your eyes, only to see someone with blonde hair, yellow eyes, and a kind smile standing right in front of you, his slender fingers wrapped around the bars. He looked like an absolute angel with his perfect teeth, pink lips, and kind eyes that looked right at you. He made your heart flutter.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said before pushing the bars apart enough to create a gap for the people in your cage to get out.

He was quick to scoop you up before the other six people in your cage trampled you to get free. But as soon as you were too close to the bars, your collar went off with a continuous shock that had you letting out a strangled yell.

Jeonghan was quick to grab the collar by the black box and rip the blue collar from your neck. 

Unfortunately for the wolves, it was chaos trying to free these people. Of course, they were panicking trying to run away and weren’t going to listen to those trying to guide them safely outside the tent and to freedom. Some were guided out and made it to those waiting at the perimeter to guide them toward the safehouses they had set, but others were ignoring all instruction and running for their lives, getting hurt or killed in the process. Some of them ran out, clutching their necks as they were shocked to no end as they tried to make their escape. 

Jeonghan wasn’t focusing on that. His only job was to get you out and get you back to the house as quickly and safely as possible. Once he had you, he was supposed to run for it, and that’s exactly what he was doing, dodging other captives and wolves as he ran for the exit with every wolf he ran passed covering him so he could make a safe escape with you.

As you were being carried out, you saw another man prying open the bars of Saoirse’s cage. She immediately leapt out and followed where the man was pointing to, running to follow after you and the strange man who was carrying you. Her eyes caught yours over his shoulder, and she seemed to brighten a little and give you a knowing smile as if to say ‘I told you so’.

The man jogged through the gates before he bolted for an escape.

“Jihoon!” he called. “Cover me!”

Jihoon stopped what he was doing as soon as he spotted Jeonghan, then his eyes looked behind him to see a guard chasing after them. His eyes glowed to life as he held his palm toward the man before flinging him backward toward the tent, his back hitting the iron bars of the gate.

You looked around, seeing absolute chaos around you as giant wolves tore apart men, and captives ran for their lives or were shot down. Then you looked behind you to see Saoirse still running behind you.

If you weren’t looking at her, you wouldn’t have known the scream that came from her mouth was hers before she hit the ground. You could see blood staining the back of her shirt, the pool of it spreading. 

“Saoirse!” you cried, reaching your hand behind the man.

He skidded to a stop, turning to see who you were yelling for. He looked over at Jihoon again, and the alpha nodded, running toward the girl. 

Jeonghan didn’t wait to see what would happen to Saoirse. He couldn’t wait. He had to get you home. He had to get you to safety. So he turned back around and continued running the way he had been.

While he was focused on your safety, though, you were fixated on Saoirse’s. Sure, she was trouble, but she was the closest thing you’d ever had to a friend. So while Jeonghan ran, you watched over his shoulder to see what her fate would be.

-

The scream cut through the tense air. Everyone had clamped their hands over their ears, eyes closing tight as if it could help drown out the scream. Mingyu’s eyes were watering just from the sharp noise.

Finally, it died off, leaving everyone to look to Eunjin standing in the doorway of the den, hands still holding a plate of food like nothing happened. But her blue eyes were locked on the girl at the end of the hallway, clinging to the back of Jeonghan’s shirt with fear in her eyes. Eunjin’s eyes were glossy and filled with tears, and the two wolves who had been left behind to take care of the mates began to panic.

Eunjin was staring at you.

“What happened?” Joshua asked urgently as he rushed over to her. He stood in front of her, gently gripping her upper arms and searching her eyes, but it was like he wasn’t even there to her. It was like she was still staring through him at you. “Eunjin? Did you hear something? Do you sense something? What is it?”

The three wolves waited for her response, but they knew her scream woke up every single mate upstairs and they would no doubt be down to ask questions soon. Immediately, they feared the worst. One of their own had died. Hell, maybe you were going to kill them. That wouldn’t have caught Eunjin’s attention like that. She would’ve sensed or heard something more significant than that.

And you were even more confused than anyone else because that was the first thing you experienced after Jeonghan opened the door.

It felt like time was frozen until Eunjin’s lips quivered and she said in a whisper, “I have a bad feeling again…”

The small group looked around at each other with a mix of worried and grim looks. They all knew what that meant. It was a feeling she got when she had met Hansol before. She screamed when she saw him, and then Jiung died and things went downhill with Kyung. 

Then three pairs of golden eyes were on you, along with Eunjin’s blue eyes that sent a shiver down your spine for reasons other than her screaming at you.

But Jeonghan didn’t care. He didn’t care if you brought death or something, if he were honest. Maybe Eunjin just sensed death associated with you because of what had happened. He’d make up any excuse in his head for you. He’d defend you in front of his entire pack if he had to. All he wanted was you to be safe, and now that he had you in his arms, he could make sure you always would be. And he’d never let you go.

»»————-　　————-««

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[pedroscurls]

Innocent Eyes

Character(s): Javier Peña and Reader (female, second person POV)  Summary: Javier and his partner, Steve Murphy, finally have one night off. So, when they go to a local bar to unwind, Javier certainly wasn’t expecting you to walk through the doors.  Word Count: 5,251 Author's Note: So, this one-shot originated from a dream I had last night lol and it was all I could think of all day. I hope you all enjoy this! Happy reading🫶  Warning: smut!!! (idk if this needs to go into detail, but javi gets it innnn🥵)

Javier was exhausted, tired from working around the clock just to get an inch closer to catching Pablo Escobar, but every time they got close enough to even reach him, he was gone before they could even act. So tonight, instead of choosing to stay in and get rest, Steve managed to convince Javier to just have a couple of beers with him at the local bar near their apartment. 

If anything Javier knew to do, it was to distract himself of the reality of his life. He already had his mind set that he would take a woman home to help him further distract himself from how helpless he felt whenever he went to work. No matter how much effort he put in, how much intel he received, it just was never enough. 

And as he was sitting in a small booth across from Steve, his eyes wandered. There had already been plenty of women that came up to their table, trying to get the two men to buy them drinks, but Javier didn’t find any of the women appealing enough to bring them back home. Steve was off-limits, married, so it wasn’t like he could even take any of them home either; he had always been so faithful to his wife, Connie.

“So, plan for tomorrow is–” 

Javier shook his head. He was leaning back against his seat, giving him a clear view of the entire bar. Bringing the cigarette back to his lips, Javier just glanced over at Steve. 

“I really don’t want to talk about work.” 

“Right, right,” Steve said. “You’re right. We’re supposed to unwind, relax…”

“Whatever the hell that means,” he shrugged. “How’s Connie?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders, looking over at his partner. “Fine.”

Javier chuckled, letting out a puff of smoke. “Can’t imagine that this is what she expected.”

“It isn’t,” Steve replied. “But she’s stuck by my side through everything. This is just another thing we gotta get through.”

“You’re a lucky man, Steve.” Javier said. 

“And you? Never had a woman you ever thought of settling down with?”

For a brief moment, Javier’s mind drifted to Lorraine. He had been so close to getting married, but even now, he couldn’t imagine being a married man while having to deal with Pablo Escobar and the demons that only seemed to come out at night. He was envious of Steve, having Connie who was a strong enough woman to stick by him, no matter how difficult it would be. 

All the women Javier had been with never had gotten close as Lorraine did and even then, he wasn’t sure that Lorraine was the woman he was meant to be with (hence leaving her at the altar). Besides, Javier didn’t think he could even go through the stages of being in a relationship anymore. The talking, the getting to know each other, the sharing of secrets… the women that Javier encountered didn’t want that either, so it just worked out. It was always just a few nights shared, not bothering to talk about each other; it was just another distraction. 

“Not the settling down type,” Javier replied, letting out a quiet laugh. “I’m fine with the way things are.”

“Ah, you mean the women at the brothels?” Steve chuckled. “You know what you’re doing, man. As long as you’re clean, guess that’s all that matters.” 

“I’m not stupid. I get tested regularly. Besides,” Javier said, downing his drink. “Why in the hell are we talking about my sex life?” 

Steven laughed, raising a hand in the air to get the waitress to come by to the table so that they could order another round. “Fair enough.”

A group of women came by to the table, giggling and trying to entice both Javier and Steve by leaning over the table, pushing their breasts together and towards their direction. Javier couldn’t help but look, his eyes obviously raking over their frames. They were beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but the fact that they were exuding desperation was a complete turn-off for him. Usually, Javier didn’t mind, especially if he needed to distract himself, but for some reason, tonight, it wasn’t working for him. 

But, as the doors swung open to the bar, Javier turned his attention towards the door. Then, when you entered the bar, he felt himself become immediately intrigued. You looked to be lost, looking around the bar like you had no idea where you had just stumbled in. You definitely didn’t look like the rest of the women that were in the bar either. The dress you were wearing was black compared to the other colorful dresses that the other women were wearing, but it was still skintight, though reaching just above your knees. It looked as if you had barely worn any makeup, except for the dark red lipstick that Javier found inviting, practically begging for him to nip and bite as he pleased. 

As you skimmed the room to find the people you were supposed to meet, you noticed him. He was leaning back against his seat, white button shirt underneath a dark denim jacket. The cigarette hung between his lips and his arm draped over the back of the seat. He didn’t look at all the least bit interested about the women who were at his table and when you noticed that he was looking back at you, a blush immediately appeared on your cheeks. You gave him a smile and brought your hand up to tuck the hair away from your face. 

When the women at Javier and Steve’s table realized they weren’t interested, they scoffed and decided to walk away, blocking Javier’s view of you after he had locked eyes with you. When he saw you smile and noticed that you were looking at him too, he felt an unusual feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. 

“Javi,” Steve said, gently reaching over to nudge at his arm. “Hello?”

“What?” Javier replied, pulling his eyes away from searching the room for you and looking back at Steve. “Sorry. My mind was–”

“Occupied by the woman who entered the bar. You never quit, do you?” Steve chuckled. 

Javier rolled his eyes. “Are you getting the next round or what?” 

“Yeah, I got it.” 

When the waitress came by the table, Steve ordered them another round of beers. Javier, on the other hand, kept looking around the room and when he finally found you with your back facing him, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander your frame. The dress clung to your curves in all the right places, but the length was still modest enough that you weren’t showing too much, unlike the other women and especially unlike the group of friends you were with. 

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. I’ll be back,” Javier said. He stood from the booth and finished his cigarette before he decided to walk in your direction. He knew he had the confidence to be able to come up to any woman and start a conversation, but he wasn’t sure why he was now feeling nervous. 

As he inched closer to you, Javier could hear the voices and laughter amongst your group. But when you turned around, Javier felt like his breath was taken from him. Your group of friends dispersed onto the dance floor and you remained, probably because he was looking at you without saying a word. 

“Um, hi?” you finally said, breaking him out of his trance. 

“Hi,” Javier replied, clearing his throat. “Hey.” 

You looked up at him and tilted your head. Your eyes were luring him in, so innocent and pure like you hadn’t yet been corrupted by the world. He had to wonder why you were here in Colombia, what your name was, what you did for a living, the things you liked and disliked… It certainly went against everything he had known. Women served as a distraction for Javier and he never thought that learning about the women he slept with was worth his time, but here he was, wanting to learn every little thing about you. 

“You okay?” You asked. He was quiet, which was surprising to you, especially since he had seemed to exude so much confidence and charm. 

“Sorry,” Javier chuckled nervously. “I’m Javier. You can call me Javi, or Javier, or whatever you’d like.” 

You smiled and Javier bit at his lower lip at the sight. “Javier,” you repeated. “That’s a very nice name.”

“And yours?” 

You told him your name and Javier smiled. He found himself being unable to look away, despite the loud music and chatter that filtered the entire bar. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Javier asked. 

You looked over his shoulder at your friends who looked to be unbothered by your lack of presence on the dancefloor and you glanced at the booth that you had noticed Javier was sitting in when you walked in and noticed the man he was with was sipping his beer. 

“What about your friend?” 

Javier looked over his shoulder at Steve and shrugged. “He’s fine. He’s a big boy who can handle being alone for a few.”

“Well, in that case, I’d love a drink.” 

—

An hour later, Steve had decided to call it a night, raising a hand to wave at Javier who was deep in conversation with you. Your friends had also decided to go to another bar, making sure that you were okay before they left. And now, you and Javier were sitting next to each other at the bar, inches separating your bodies. 

“So, you’re visiting,” Javier repeated. “Why Colombia?” 

“One of my friends is getting married and this is her bachelorette party. She wanted to go to Colombia, so… Here I am,” you replied, sipping your drink. “What about you? You don’t have an accent, so I’m assuming you aren’t from here.”

“I’m actually from Texas. I’m here for work,” he replied. Javier found himself captivated by your presence, by the innocent look in your eyes, by the way your smile managed to give him butterflies. Javier Peña had to wonder if this was love at first sight… How cliche. He made sure to make a mental note not to tell Steve, or else he’d probably never hear the end of it. 

“Oh?” You asked, intrigued. “Can I ask what you do?” 

Javier bit the inside of his cheek. He looked down at you and tilted his head. He knew that he had to be careful with telling people what he did for a living, especially since he was going after the most wanted man who had so many people supporting him. If he wasn’t careful, Javier knew he would be the next person on Pablo Escobar’s hit list. 

“Can I trust you?” he asked quietly. Javier leaned forward, his body facing you. His legs were spread apart to give some space for your seat. You, however, were facing forward and you looked over at him, biting your lower lip as he inched closer to you. 

“Is your job top secret, Javi?” you whispered.

Javi. The way you said his name sent the blood rushing straight down towards the center of his pants. In fact, he wanted to hear more of it, wanted to hear you moan and scream his name in pleasure. 

“Ay, bonita,” Javier whispered, lips hovering near your ear. “No tienes idea.” You have no idea.

You cleared your throat and turned your head to face him, seeing him up close in your personal space. He was searching your facial expressions, seeing if this was something you didn’t want, but when he saw you lean closer to him, Javier didn’t move, didn’t falter. He noticed the pink hue in your cheeks, the anxious biting of your lower lip, and he certainly noticed the way your legs squeezed together. 

“Y–You speak Spanish,” you whispered lowly. 

“Sí, bonita.”

“I really want to kiss you,” you admitted. “But I want you to know that I don’t always do this and I’m not that type of girl and–”

Javier chuckled quietly. “We don’t have to do anything, bonita. I’m fine with just talking.”

“Really? Even if I want to kiss you and possibly invite you back to my hotel room?”

Javier cleared his throat. He wanted that so badly, but the innocence in your eyes, the purity that you exuded made Javier want to take his time with you. He wanted you to be comfortable, safe, and absolutely certain of what you wanted before he took you to his bed. 

“Something tells me, bonita, that you aren’t completely sure and I’m okay with that.” 

You sighed in relief. You were telling the truth. This wasn’t what you were used to. Even back home, you had been the only one in your friend group that didn’t partake in one night stands, but this was different. Colombia wasn’t home and you probably wouldn’t ever see Javier again after tonight, so you figured that you should try something different. You were sure that Javier was going to agree without question and take you back to your hotel room, but when he sensed your hesitation that this wasn’t something that you were absolutely sure you wanted, it only made you want him more. 

“But I still do want to kiss you. Can we do that?” 

Javier grinned. He nodded and cupped your cheek, running his thumb along your jawline. “Me encantaría, bonita.” Then, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against yours, letting his eyes fall shut. Javier felt you kiss back immediately, almost leaning forward out of your seat to move your lips against his with fervor. His other hand moved to your seat, bringing you and it closer to him. As a result, you let out a gasp which parted your lips for him. He smiled against your lips and darted his tongue out to run along yours, hearing you quietly whimper against him.

Javier felt the center of his pants tighten at the sound and he felt your tongue eagerly run along his as both of your lips moved against one another. The hand on your cheek moved to the nape of your neck, your hair entwining in the spaces between his fingers. With a gentle squeeze, Javier gently pulled away and pulled your head back. Your eyes remained shut and you tilted your head up, feeling his lips move along your jawline. Javier dragged his teeth against you, nipping gently as his lips moved from your jawline to the side of your neck. 

This certainly wasn’t just talking. 

“Javi,” you whimpered quietly, moving your hands to his thighs. 

Javier smiled against you and pulled away, licking his lips as he looked at you. “Sorry, got carried away there.” 

“You really know what you’re doing, huh?” you smiled, biting your lower lip. 

“I know a few things.” 

“I promise that I don’t go around kissing strangers. I’m actually a real good girl.”

Javier cleared his throat at that. He tried to think of something else, to think of anything else, to stop himself from getting an erection right here, right now. He wanted to test that out, to see how truly a good girl you really were. 

“I think you know what you’re doing too,” he replied. 

You blushed and bit the inside of your cheek. “I know a few things too,” you winked. 

Javier chuckled and leaned forward to gently peck your lips. “Wanna grab some food? I know a good spot nearby.”

“I’d love to.” 

—

You and Javier were sitting next to each other at a local taco shop. He had paid for your food, which you thanked him by giving him a kiss on his lips. He wanted to kiss you longer, but you had pulled away before he could get too carried away. And now, you were both laughing with each other, taco in hand, and it felt like you had known him forever, like this was normal. 

“My dad owns a ranch back home,” Javier smiled. “I used to pretend to sleep in to get out of doing my chores,” he chuckled. 

You laughed quietly, looking over at him. “Sounds like a teenager thing to do.”

“Oh, trust me, my dad caught on pretty quick. Didn’t last long.” 

“Is he a strict man? Your dad, I mean?”

Javier shrugged. Since coming to Colombia, he hadn’t ever talked about his personal life; it just didn’t seem right to mix work with his life at home, but he found it so easy to talk to you, to talk about his life from before Pablo Escobar, from before Colombia, from before the DEA. 

“I wouldn’t say strict,” Javier replied. “He's a man of few words, but he’s taught me everything I know. The man I am today is because of him.” 

You smiled. “Sounds like a great man. Do you miss home?”

Javier didn’t know how to answer that. He hadn’t been back home in years, too focused on trying to catch Pablo Escobar and not wanting to go back home without anything to show for it. 

“Yeah,” he whispered. “It’s been a long time.” Javier took a bite of his taco, glancing over at you. When he swallowed his food, he decided to change the topic of conversation. 

“What about you? Any siblings?” 

“Two younger brothers,” you answered. “But my parents were strict,” you laughed. “Being the eldest and the only girl came with a lot of responsibilities and expectations.” 

“Ah,” Javier replied. “Sounds about right.”

“Growing up, I always wanted to leave home, get out of that small town, but,” you shrugged. “I always found my way back.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Always felt like they needed me in one way or another,” you replied. “Coming here, to Colombia, was definitely out of my comfort zone. I’m used to people relying on me, but I would be lying if I said that this vacation is only because of my friend’s bachelorette party.”

“And what else is this vacation for then, bonita?” 

You set your taco down and wiped your hands. You turned to face him, looking up at him with big, soft eyes. Javier bit the inside of his cheek. The way you looked at him made him feel all sorts of things; you were looking at him like he mattered, like the things he had done since coming to Colombia didn’t define him, like he wasn’t a disappointment, and he found himself craving more and more of the feeling you were stirring up inside of him. 

“Well, I wanted to have fun,” you replied. “I wanted to do things I don’t normally do, to step out of being that good girl that people expect me to be.” 

Javier bit his lower lip. There you go again, saying those words like it wouldn’t cause a reaction out of him, but the way you were looking at him and the way you were inching closer, the more and more he realized that you were becoming increasingly sure that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you.

“Oh, so you want to be bad?” Javier asked, running his fingertips along your back. 

“With the help of a certain someone,” you replied. 

“And who might that be, bonita?” 

You leaned into him, biting your lower lip. “I’m sure you know the answer to that already, Javi.”

He growled lowly and leaned down to capture your lips heatedly. Immediately, you melted into him and moved your hands to his chest as you gently nipped at his lower lip. Javier groaned against you, pulling away as he felt the center of his pants tighten. 

“Tell me what you want, bonita…”

You were breathing heavily against him, pulling back enough to look up at him. “You… I want you, Javier.” 

—

Javier had been peppering kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders as you tried to unlock your hotel room door. His hands were resting on your hips as he nipped gently at your skin, causing you to push back against him to feel the throbbing bulge beneath his pants. He groaned at the sensation and pulled you flush against him. When he heard a quiet thank god when the door unlocked, he pulled away and walked you both inside. 

Javier felt you pull away to turn the lights on as he followed you towards the bed. He watched as you took a seat at the edge of it, immediately reaching down to remove your heels. Once they were off, Javier watched as you kicked them to the side. He had already removed his denim jacket, tossing it somewhere in the room. 

He was unbuttoning his shirt when he saw you look up at him, reaching back to pull the zipper down on your dress. Javier grunted to himself at the sight of you looking up at him so innocently and so pure that he wanted your eyes focused on him when he finally got the chance to fuck you. 

Javier shrugged the shirt off from his body, reaching down to unbuckle his belt to relieve some pressure in his pants. You stood from the bed and turned around, motioning for Javier to pull the zipper down. It was obvious that you could have done it yourself, but wanting Javier to do it instead made him even more excited. 

Javier’s pants were undone and he reached up to drag the zipper slowly down to reveal more of your bare skin. When he realized you hadn’t worn a bra, he used his free hand to squeeze himself in excitement. He leaned forward, peppering kisses along more of your exposed skin. Once the zipper was completely undone, Javier took a step back to watch the dress pool around your ankles to reveal that you were now only just wearing a very skimpy lacey, black thong. 

“Fuck me, bonita,” he whispered, watching as you turned around to reveal your exposed front. 

“I’m trying,” you smiled, letting out a quiet giggle that made his member throb even further. 

Javier pushed his pants down his legs, kicking them to the side. You gasped in surprise when you noticed that he hadn’t been wearing any underwear, his manhood standing erect and leaking at the tip. 

“Well, seems like I’m the only one naked.” Javier said, reaching down to tug on his length.

You nodded in agreement, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your thong and pulling it down your legs. Once it reached your ankles, you pushed it aside and slowly lowered yourself to your knees. You looked up at him, licking your lips as Javier slowly stepped forward. 

“Can I?”

Javier growled. “So polite,” he said, stroking his member a few times before he let his tip rest against your lips. “Wow, you really are a good girl, aren’t you?” 

You smiled, parting your lips and running your tongue along his tip. The taste of him settled on your tongue and you wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking gently as you brought a hand up to stroke the base of his length. Javier groaned, moving a hand to your hair as he kept his eyes focused on you. 

You pulled away, licking your lips as your hand continued to stroke him. Still, you were staring up at him with the same look you had given him the moment you walked through the doors of the bar earlier that night. 

“Fuck, bonita,” Javier groaned. 

You smiled in accomplishment and wrapped your lips around his length, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as your hand continued to stroke what your mouth couldn’t cover. Javier’s hand tightened its grip around your hair at the sensation and when you pulled your hand from him to try and push yourself further down onto his length, he moaned, hearing you gag quietly as the tip of his length hit the back of your throat. 

Javier thought it was too much, but you continued, bobbing your head repeatedly and quickening your pace. He had to pull away from you, to prevent himself from coming too fast before he could even feel your walls wrap around his member. 

“You keep that up and this is gonna be over,” he teased, gently taking your hand and pulling you to your feet.

“I’d like to do that again,” you smiled, running your tongue across your lower lip. 

“Oh, this good girl thing is just an act, isn’t it?” he grinned, moving his hands to your hips. 

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “What can I say? I guess you bring out the bad in me, Javi.” 

Javier groaned and gently laid you back on the bed, crawling above you as he settled himself between your legs. You stared up at him, eyes still so innocent and pure and he felt like he could come right then and there with the way you were looking at him.

“Damn, bonita,” he said, taking the condom you handed him. “You’re driving me crazy the way you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Javier slid the condom onto his length and grasped it in his hand, slowly running his tip along your sex. He kept his eyes focused on you, watching as your lips parted for a moan to escape. 

“You look at me like I’m the only thing that matters,” he whispered, slowly sliding into you and groaning as he felt your tight walls immediately wrap around his member. 

You gasped, keeping your legs parted for him. Javier lowered himself to press his lips along your jawline, wanting to be close to hear your moans against his ear. His hips slowly moved in and out of you, allowing your tight sex to loosen up to his length. He had to wonder if you had done this before or how often you had done this with how tight you were and it was driving him crazy; he didn’t know how he was going to let you go after tonight. 

You couldn’t even think, couldn’t even process what his words meant because all you could focus on was the way he felt as he thrusted in and out of you, the weight of his body against yours, providing you a surprising sense of safety and security. Javier’s lips continued to move along your skin as he pulled his hips back and pushed back into you repeatedly, creating a rhythm that elicited quiet whimpers and moans from you. 

Javier was always so rough with the women he had been with, so rough and quick, but this time, for some reason, he wanted to take his time. He wanted to revel in the way you felt wrapped around him, the sounds of your moans and the way you said his name, and certainly the way your arms moved to wrap around his shoulders, holding onto him. 

“Javi,” you whimpered, feeling him deliver a sharp thrust. He remained still within your depths and you moaned, feeling so full of him that you wanted more. You wrapped your legs around his hips and tightened your hold around his shoulders as you lifted your hips to move against him, moaning loudly as it bounced off the walls. 

Javier groaned, pulling back to prop himself up onto his hands as he watched your hips move against him, rolling them up and down. He pushed into you, moving a hand to your hip to stop your movements. Javier pulled out to his tip and slammed back into you; he repeated this for a few thrusts before his pace quickened. The sound of his skin slapping against you mixed in with the sounds of your moans. He gripped your hip, his fingertips digging into your skin as he leaned down to bite at the side of your neck, sucking on it afterwards. 

“Fuck, bonita,” Javier groaned. 

“Oh god, Javi,” you moaned. “Please, don’t stop.” 

Javier grinned, slamming his hips into yours repeatedly. “Tell me how it feels, bonita.” 

“Javi,” you muttered, feeling your climax slowly edge its way closer. “Feels so good… Oh my god…”

“I’m gonna want to do this again,” Javier whispered, his hips not faltering as he felt your walls begin to tighten even further around him. “Next time, I’m gonna fuck you from behind and watch your ass bounce against me.” 

You would be lying if you said that you had experienced this before, that the men you had been with had given you this much pleasure, but Javier was different. This was different, in all the best ways possible. 

“Please,” you whimpered. 

“And then,” Javier groaned, slamming into you. “I’m gonna eat this pussy and make you come until the only thing you can think about is me, bonita.”

That was it. Your walls tightened around his length as your body began to shake once you reached your climax. You held onto him and heard Javier’s grunts and groans against you as his hips began to thrust into you erratically. You knew he was close too, so you ran your nails up and down his broad back as you whispered into his ear. 

“Come for me, Javi.” 

Javier delivered one last thrust and released himself into the condom, groaning against you. He hadn’t ever reached his climax as hard as this and he had to wonder if it was because of you. He was telling the truth that he wanted to do this again and again and again… 

But he also wanted to get to know more about you, spend more time with you, show more of himself to you, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Colombia wasn’t home to you and you would be going home in less than a week. This was all it could ever be. 

When he pulled out, you whimpered and watched as he removed the condom, tying it shut and tossing it into the nearby trash. He lied back down with you and pulled you into his arms as you tried to catch your breath. 

You looked up at him, biting your lower lip as you started to wonder how this could even work when you went back home. Maybe this was why you never did one night stands because while you wanted more sex with Javier, you also wanted to get to know more about him, more about his family, his home, but how could that be possible if you were expected to go home and he was supposed to stay here for work?

“We are doing that again,” Javier said, smiling. “I’m a man of my word, so–”

“So, you’ll eat me out and then fuck me from behind?” 

Javier narrowed his eyes, leaning down to peck your lips. “I think I want to keep you, bonita.” 

“That’s a great idea,” you smiled. “Can we make that happen?” 

You kept staring up at him, which gave Javier that same feeling from earlier this night. He wanted more of you, obviously in more ways than one, but you made him feel good about himself, made him feel like he wasn’t just some disappointment, made him feel human. In fact, you gave him hope that this could be something more. He never did understand the concept of love at first sight, but what he was feeling was something he hadn’t ever felt before. 

Maybe it was love. Maybe it was something else, but Javier wanted you.

Needed you. 

“I think we can,” he finally replied. 

[rogerswifesblog]

Hi Vera😘❤️

for your 1k bingo: Ari + sex pollen👀

Imagine Ari being an agent. Ari jokes around and flirts around a lot, which makes you cautious about what comes out of his mouth. Stuff like "you're a peach" "can you help me with this, sweetheart?" "My heart just stopped, you're so beautiful." He would say this to different agents and scientists all day without truly meaning it. But you have a huge crush on him, nonetheless.

Fast forward to the incident, when Ari played around the lab carelessly one day and accidentally caused lab scientists to mix up two dangerous chemicals. And since he's the only one in the lab who didn't have a full hazmat suit on, he inhaled the chemicals (which is sex pollen) and was sent to quarantine. And when his mind is in a haze, the only name that stuck in his head is yours👀👀👀

Does he call you to the quarantine room? Do you perceive his words as a desperate measures or you believe him? Does he tell you about his feelings after the pollen wears off?👀👀👀It's your decision! :3 Surprise me hehehehehe😘😘😘

(And probably the fourth(or fifth?) Time, congratulations on your 1k❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Ari + sex pollen???? Damn👀 an idea I never knew I needed but yeah. Love it.

And thank you sm!🥺❤️

Turns out I’m shit at short Drabble writing so this one is 4 k, enjoy 🤣

All drabbles will be posted with the tag “1 k followers special” just look for it on my blog:)

Addicted to you

Warnings: dub-con (sex pollen), p in v, unprotected sex, squirting

„Hello, gorgeous, how’s your day?“, your favorite coworker asked, not you. He leaned over Mindys table, right in front of you, making you sigh quietly.

Ari was a very friendly and also handsome man. Most agents, especially all women, had a crush on him, even married once.

And of course, you.

You had a crush on your work partner, making your life awfully miserable. At first you actually thought something was between you, a little spark maybe. All the flirting and sweet petnames seemed to be special, right? Wrong. At least to Ari. He called half the agents gorgeous or flirted his way out of writing reports. At this point whenever he came to you, offering his sweet smile and glances, you knew it was for a reason.

"you're a peach" “No, Ari, I won’t share my lunch.”

"Can you help me with this, peach?" “No, Ari, I won’t write your report”

"My heart just stopped, you're so beautiful, peach." “No, Ari, I won’t fall for that. Go get you your own coffee.”

It’s always the same game. Him trying to flirt his way out of something and you having to do everything to not lose your mind over his words. You’d do anything to hear these compliments honestly. Having Ari call you beautiful because you two went on a date and not because he needed something.

At first you had fallen for it, still hoping the spark you felt was real-but then you noticed he didn’t seem to care about his words as much as you did. How many women here thought he actually meant any of it? How many agents had or will have their heart broken because of his careless thinking? Well, you were definitely one, but probably not the first.

“Oh, really? You don’t have to do that, gorgeous, are you sure?” “Oh course, Ari. I wanted to get a coffee anyway, it wouldn’t make much sense for you to walk unnecessarily if I’m already on my way”, said the clearly not suspecting woman. Sometimes you felt bad for them, really, but on the other hand you knew Ari wouldn’t stop his flirting. You tried to tell him to stop, but it seemed like it was a part of his personality he just couldn’t ‘turn off’.

Grinning Ari walked over to your desk, plopping down on it with his ass, nearly knocking over your own coffee, “be careful you imbecile”, you hissed, making the man laugh. “Good morning to you too, peach. I can tell Mindy to get another coffee for you, if you want”, “no thank you, I like my coffee without the taste of slave, besides I still have mine”, with that you stubbornly took a long sip of your coffee, trying not to frown when you noticed how cold it had already gotten. And Ari definitely saw it too, but he didn't comment on it.

“So, what are we doing today? I heard they have something for us in the laboratory?”, he asked instead, leaning a bit closer to you so he’d be able to read whatever you were writing. His aftershave immediately hit you, making you feel lightheaded. God, how could someone smell this good?

What you didn’t know, he was thinking the same about you, not being able to stop himself from leaning a bit further into your personal space and nearly falling from the desk. “Ari, stop that or you might already sit in the chair with me-” “oh that’s not a bad idea, let’s-“ “no.”

He furrowed his eyebrows a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. “But why-“ “Hey, Ari, I got your coffee-and they called you into the lab. They said it’s urgent”, said Mindy, walking up to your desk and giving Ari his coffee. Was her blouse further open than before?

Head shaking you stood up, ignoring that she didn’t even greet you. “Ari, let’s go”, you didn’t let him talk to Mindy anymore, already grabbing his massive biceps and pulling him to the labs. “Wait-I wanted to-” “I don’t care what you wanted to do, you’re here to work and not to flirt” “geez, chill, someone’s got their panties in a twist-tho I couldn’t help you untwist them, peach.” “Ari-”

At this point you weren’t even sure why he was still your work partner.

Just when you wanted to enter the lab someone held you back, one of the interns smiling up at you. “Oh hello, Peter, everything okay?”, you smiled at him, not noticing Ari rolling his eyes when the young man blushed. “I have some documents for you to sign, it’s important”, since it was important you told Ari to go and ask the scientists about the substance they found while you’d sign the papers.

“So, Peter, how was your weekend?” You asked the young man, while sitting down at your desk. He sat down in the chair in front of your desk, looking around your office. Mindy seemed to ignore him, just like she did ignore you. What a bitch. Did she really only talk when Ari was around?

Peter cleared his throat. “It was really fun, we-“ a shrill alarm sounded, alarming everyone to leave the building. Fire? No it wasn’t the fire alarm. You’ve never heard this before. Grabbing petter by the arm you immediately left your office, hearing Mindy's steps behind you. “What’s happening?”, you called out to one of the guards.

“There was an accident in the lab. Some chemicals exploded-“

Your chest immediately tightened. Oh god. Ari. No, no, no. What if he got hurt? What if he- “Miss, we need to go”, your intern interrupted you, pulling you out of the building. “No wait- I need-Ari is still there-”

The whole floor was closed for two days. Two days in which you didn’t know what happened to Ari. You were worried sick-and heartbroken. His behavior may be annoying but it didn’t mean your heart had stopped craving him. It seemed your feelings only grew in the past days.

As soon as you entered the building you went to your boss to ask about Ari, not receiving much information only that he was alive but in quarantine. Did it mean he had a disease? Maybe whatever the scientists had found was incurable?

Again you felt yourself nearly hyperventilating. “Please let me see him. I just want to see he’s alive. I don’t believe it until I see it myself”, you nearly begged with tears in your eyes. Your boss sighed, rubbing the brick of his nose with two of his fingers. “Fine, fine just-stop crying. I can’t handle that”, he mumbled walking you to the quarantine room.

You could see him through a window and your boss was right, he was alive.

But he looked like death was close.

He was sweaty, his clothes soaked and hugging his body like a second skin. His skin was pale. Dark circles beneath his eyes. His wrists cuffed to the bed. God, poor Ari. “What’s wrong with him?” “We don’t really know…He was affected by the chemicals. The scientists said he inhaled them and immediately felt dizzy, hot…started mumbling some nonsense about peaches”, said the man. Just when you wanted to ask something else his phone rang. He excused himself and walked away.

The ringing had caught Ari’s attention. “Peach-peach”, he whined, writhing in the bed like crazy. His wrists were already red and scratched, but it didn’t stop him from pulling at them harder. You swallowed, seeing his wrists bleeding.

“Miss, you’re not allowed to be here”, one of the doctor’s came, pulling you a bit further away from the window. You noticed how it made Ari even angrier than before, throwing himself from side to side. “Bastard! Don’t-don’t fucking touch her!”, he hissed, making you immediately pull away from the doctor who had touched your arm. Ari stopped his movements, his breathing slowly calming down.

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, the doctor doing the same and reaching out to you again, making Ari going feral. Seeing the hand of the stranger touching your skin made him pull at the restraints even harder, till they started cutting in his skin. Not wanting Ari to hurt himself, you stepped away from the man, closer to the window noticing how Ari tried to lift his hand-which wasn’t possible.

“Let me in. I think he…wants my company?”, you mumbled. The man seemed unsure. “We don’t know what the chemicals did to his body-he’s still…unstable. And maybe contagious-“ “Please, I think he’ll feel better when I’m there”, the Doctor sighed and pulled out a key, opening the door. As soon as you walked in Ari tried to pull at his restraints to touch you, which he managed when you sat down at the edge of his bed.

A moan escaped his throat when your cool hands touched his burning forehead. “Oh god, you have a fever-and you’re drenched”, you whispered, wiping away the sweat from his skin. “I’m-hot. Too hot”, he mumbled, sitting a bit up and hiding his face against your throat, immediately inhaling your smell. The soft smell of your peachy parfum. So, so good. So addicting. “So nice…missed you, peach”, he mumbled, his lips touching your throat, close to kissing.

“Ari, you should…you’re totally out of your mind”, you pushed him back into the pillow, turning around to the doctor who was still watching you two. And taking some notes, huh? “Excuse me, could you get me a cloth and bowl of cold water?”, the doctor nodded, leaving you two for a few moments.

Your hand caressed Aris cheeks, slowly brushing down to his chest, his chest heaving uncontrollably, heart pounding so fast you couldn’t count the beats. “I’m so sorry I let you walk into the lab alone. I should’ve known something would happen…”

Ari moaned again, pushing himself into your palm. He felt completely overwhelmed, especially now that you were here. So close. Touching him.

“I’m hot-I want it off-take it off”, he tried to grab at his clothes, pulling them away from his body, but he couldn’t really move his hands. His breathing became even faster than before. You knew you probably shouldn’t act on his words, but seeing his big blue eyes begging you. “Okay, okay, I’ll help you”, with that you started pushing up his shirt, but stopping at his chest. “You’re cuffed-I can’t help much more, I’m-“ “take them off. I don’t want them-take them off”, he started fidgeting again.

That’s when the doctor from before came in with a cloth and water. “What are you doing miss?” “Open the cuffs-” “miss-“ “open the fucking cuffs! Don’t you see he’s bleeding? When will you react?! When he breaks his wrists?!!” You started arguing with him, making the man jump in surprise, not expecting your yelling.

“Fine, but I’m leaving the room.” He only put the bowl with the cloth aside, giving you the key to Aris cuffs. Then he quickly left the room leaving you with Ari behind.

You felt your own hands shake while slowly opening the restraints. Before you could even really let Ari pull out his hands he was already taking off his shirt, not caring about the ripping sound. When you noticed how he tried to open his pants you gasped quietly. “Wait Ari-no-pants no”, you took his hands that were working on his zipper, making him moan quietly while he pushed his hips up into your hands.

It surprised you and you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling your hands away again. “Fuck no-don’t stop”, he mumbled grabbing you by the hips and pulling onto his hips, letting you feel his hard dick throb in his pants. “What-Ari, what are you doing-hey-no”, you swatted his hands away, grabbing the wet cloth and hitting his chest with it.

Ari gasped, his eyes focusing a bit more while he looked up at you, still lightheaded but less than before. “Please-I don’t know what’s happening to me-but I need you-fuck, I need you so bad, please”, he sat up and immediately buried his face again your throat, kissing and sucking at your skin. He was losing his control.

He felt exactly like he felt when the chemicals first hit him.

As soon as he opened the tube, a yellow powder explosion went right in his face. Everything around him started to spin, his vision getting blurred and-he felt aroused. So fucking aroused.

Why weren’t you here? You were supposed to come with him. He needed to see you. No.

He needed to fuck you.

God. He wanted to feel your skin. Your lips. To taste you. He wanted to taste the sweet peachy shampoo or parfum-or whatever it was that made you smell so good.

“Peach-where’s-peach”, he moaned quietly, bracing himself on the table next to him. He didn’t even know what was happening around him. The people calling a code something-and grabbing him, touching him. He hated the touch of these people. He wanted you. “Peach-no-not you-peach-“

“Ari, are you okay?”, when your voice pulled him out of his thoughts he grabbed your arms again. “I can’t control myself-I need you-fuck-please-“, he mumbled close to your lips, already wanting to kiss them, but you pushed him away.

Someone walked into the room again, two doctors you didn’t know. “We found out what it is-but there’s no cure for it”, hearing this made your throat tighten. No cure? “Miss, he won’t die-not if…the person of his desire…helps him out.” You didn’t understand what they were talking about and it was also hard to concentrate with Ari trying to kiss your throat or sucking hickeys into your skin.

“What do you mean help him out? What should I-Ari stop it-that tickles-“, you tried to push his head away, feeling his beard tickle your throat. He whined when you pushed his forehead again, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Miss, we think Mr Levinson was affected by, the so called, sex pollen, a drug making the affected wanting to…breed and reproduce. It won’t stop until he…fulfills his needs.” The doctors words made your mouth immediately feel dry, like you hadn’t drank anything for days.

“I…need to have sex with him?” Both doctors looked at each other, then back at you. “We can probably try to find someone to…help him, but he seems to react to you.”

For fucks sake, why couldn’t he be affected by…something that wouldn’t make him want to reproduce.

Of course you’ve always wanted it, but not like this. You wanted for it to matter and not when Ari was not himself. Drugged.

You swallowed. Then swallowed again.

“Okay…i'll do it, but…can we have privacy? A room without a huge window?”, you asked self consciously, finally letting Ari bury his face further in your neck and cleavage since he definitely heard you agreeing to sleeping with him.

The doctors seemed a bit uncomfortable in this situation. “Yeah this window has curtains. Well let them down and then you can-“ “Yeah I know-just-go. I’ll take care of him”, you mumbled a bit embarrassed and also slowly turned on. How could someone not get turned on when the person they love kissed their throat and cleavage? Or nibbled at your earlobe? Fuck, your panties were probably drenched.

A couple minutes later the doctors were gone, the curtains lowered and some of the buttons of your shirt open, but Ari seemed impatient just ripping the rest from your body, making you gasp quietly. “Ari-“, you moaned, letting him pull you over his lap, his hard dick immediately pressing into your cunt. There were still too many layers between you two, making Ari mumble something unhappily, while he opened his pants, hastily pushing them down.

You quickly helped him out of his clothes, nearly falling from his lap since Ari was so impatient to finally get out of these he kind of got carried away and was close to actually pushing you from the bed. As soon as his body was completely bare he sighed in relief and grabbed your waist, pushing you into the bed. You didn’t had much time to appreciate the beauty of him, before he started hastily ripping your skirt and slipping from your hips, immediately pushing your legs open.

“Jesus-Ari, we have time-”, you mumbled when he immediately tried to place himself between your thighs, his lips still suckling at your throat. When he reached your breasts he bit into the flesh, making you moan in pleasure and surprise. His tongue circled the pink teeth mark, before hastily doing the same closer to your nipple.

When you felt the tip of his cock press against your wet cunt you couldn’t stop the nervousness creeping up inside you. Even though you weren’t able to really admire him you still noticed the size of his cock.

No wonder he was always this…cocky.

“Ari-oh fuck-”, when he thrusted inside your wet cunt you couldn’t stop the moans from leaving your mouth, especially since he didn’t waste time before fucking you hard and fast. His gaze glued to your cunt swallowing his cock, clearly only thinking about his release.

For a moment you doubted even if it really mattered to him who was beneath him. Did he really recognise you as you or were you just a cumdump to him? (Not that you would’ve mind under other circumstances.)

“Peach-peach look a’me”, Ari moaned, grabbing your chin with one hand, making you look into his blown eyes, the pupil completely swallowing the usually bright color. “My peach-mine”, his words were slightly slurred, but it seemed like he meant it. Maybe. Hopefully.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him a bit closer till your bodies were flushed against one another. “Yes, Ari, your peach. I’m all yours”, you whispered into his ear, not expecting the nearly inhuman sound rumbling from his chest, his thrust immediately quickening, the sound of skin on skin slapping becoming louder, just like the squelching sound from how wet you were for him.

Fuck, it felt so good. He was fucking you like no one else before. His cock was hitting every spot inside you, his pelvis rubbing against your clit from time to time, stimulating you even more. “Fuck-fuck, Ari-I’m close-please-oh god”, as soon as you felt your high approach your nails pushed into the skin of his back and biceps, making him moan in pleasure. The pain felt so good. So, so good.

You were a moaning and shaking mess beneath Ari, while he watched your every reaction. He didn’t know what to say or if he was saying something. He knew he opened his mouth, but the only thing leaving his lips were moans and grunts. He had no idea why he was behaving like this, like…like a feral animal, but all his sensations felt so different, his senses heightened, especially his smell. The smell of you was everywhere, surrounded him, filled his lungs whenever he took a breath.

A few thrust more and your cunt started squeezing him, your walls tightening around him, hugging him like you were made for him. Your mouth was open in a silent moan, your face scrunched in pleasure. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips onto yours, his tongue exploring your mouth. The kiss took you by surprise but you immediately returned it with the same enthusiasm.

Slowly feeling too overstimulated, from having him hit your g-spot over and over again, you felt yourself coming closer to something you’ve never felt before. Not only were you completely lightheaded and cockdrunk, but your whole body seemed to have stopped listening to you. Your legs gave out, your thighs not wrapped around Aris waist like the did before, your arms lightly hanging around his neck.

Ari grabbed your legs, pushing them up to your chest, before continuing his assault on your sensitive spot. The change in position makes him feel even bigger, if that’s even possible. With that he was also now fucking your spot dead on. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat feeling raw from moaning and screaming in pleasure, your whole body useless, just like a doll in his hands.

Before you could react another orgasm rushed over you, this one different, more intense, like never before.

You squirted all over Ari and yourself, your juices gushing onto his thighs and abdomen, a deep growl rumbling in his throat while he pushed his cock deeper into you, grinding against you while you felt him twitch inside you, your walls milking him while was filling you with his cum.

He didn’t stop releasing for a few minutes and you didn’t know if it was because of the drug or if it was just Ari, but when he finally pulled out and put your legs down some of his cum leaked out of you, making him grunt in annoyance and furrow his eyebrows a bit. If you had the strength to do it you'd probably have laughed at his behavior, but your muscles were too sore.

“Come’ere my caveman and stop grunting at my…you know”, you laughed quietly but also a bit self conscious. When he saw your open arms Ari immediately laid onto you, his face pressed into your neck once again. “Mine”, he mumbled barely audible, while you gently scratched his hair and back, noticing the rosy lines you’d left behind.

At that point you didn’t know what to do next. Were you supposed to leave him now? Would he be fine now? But just leaving like that felt weird. Especially since Ari meant to you more than just a friend, way more than that.

A few minutes passed and you noticed how Ari’s body felt cooler now, it even seemed like he had goosebumps. Not wanting him to freeze you grabbed the blanket that was laying on the floor and pulled it over his body. You felt him sigh softly against your skin, cuddling closer into the crook of your neck. It felt nice to have this huge man making himself small to fit into your arms wanting to cuddle.

It also made you think….

Was his head clear now? How would he react? Would he be mad?

“Ari…are you awake?”, you whispered quietly into his ear, hearing him mumble something incoherent back. The corners of your lips twitched while you shook his shoulder again, finally getting him to lift his head. At first he seemed confused, then shocked, then confused again and finally something like..regret.

Oh god, no. He didn’t want it. He regretted it. What if he felt like you- “I’m so sorry you had to do this, peach-I-I never wanted for it to happen like this-fuck. I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t have-” “Ari, it’s okay. I understand. You needed it. We can forget it and just think of it as…needs to an-“ “no. We can’t forget it-please don’t make me have to forget it. I don’t want to forget it..”, his voice quietened to the end, his gaze glued to your face.

Noticing your confusion he leaned down, pressing his lips gently onto yours, only in a sweet peck. A soft smile crept onto his lips, even a blush was visible. “I wanted to do all of it with you…touch you…kiss you…taste you…fuck you”, he whispered the words in your ear, kissing down your throat, before lifting his head again, “I’m sorry it happened like this and not how you really deserved it.”

You still were confused, but your chest tingled with hopefulness. “So you mean-you like me?“, to that Ari only laughed gently before kissing you one more time, passionate and loving.

“But never call me caveman again, tho.”

“Sure…..caveman”

Thank you for reading!

I hope you liked it! Leave some feedback and don’t forget to reblog!

Flood my inbox!:) I’ll try to post one or two drabbles everyday!:)

[lucywritesagain]

The one with the pillow fort and lovestruck god

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈﹕Loki masterlist ꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱ Navigation ﹕┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Please note that this story is a repost from my old blog @lucywrites02.

Summary: You and Loki decided to build a pillow fort

Word count: 733

“Y/N, we need more blankets!” your boyfriend shouted from the living room as you were looking for those old christmas lights that were somewhere in your room. The two of you were supposed to go out to a fancy restaurant for your date but Loki wasn’t feeling well and so you decided to hang out at your place and watch some movies. As Loki was looking for something worthy of watching you proposed an idea to build a pillow fort. At first the god was confused but after you explained the concept of pillow forts his eyes lit up and he immediately started to gather bedsheets, blankets and pillows.

And here you are now, trying to find those damned lights. You were searching through all of the boxes that were stacked on the back of your closet.

“Do you have those blankets?” Loki asked again

“I’m looking for christmas lights!” you responded

“I already have them here” you signed and closed your closet door. As you entered the living room you noticed that your couch cushions were on the floor alongside most of your pillows. You watched as Loki tried to attach a blanket to one of the bookshelves but failed miserably “Why didn’t you bring more blankets?” you only laughed in response

“I think that this-” you said, pointing at the pail of bedsheets and blankets right beside your partner “is enough to build a fort”

“Darling,” Loki walked over to you and took your face in his hands, smiling lovingly at you “I will build us a palace!” he announced and pecked your lips with his. You smiled into the kiss and put your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Before this situation could have gotten any more R-18 Loki pulled back. “I think we have some work, petal” who would have thought that such a simple thing as building a pillow fort would make Loki so happy. He was feeling like a little child again.

And so the two of you started to tuck as many blankets under the books on your shelf as you possibly could. You were putting the lights up while Loki tried to find a perfect playlist. The whole thing felt so domestic, so intimate. You wondered how it would be if the two of you were living together. You were only dating for three months but you knew he was the one. You didn’t realise this but Loki felt the same way. The god of mischief was utterly in love with you, he was just waiting for a good moment to voice his feelings. As the music started to play Loki embraced you from behind and swayed you to the rhythm. You dropped the remaining lights on the pillows and took his hands in yours. The two of you stayed like this for a while, enjoying the moment. You turned around and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll order some food” you announced “Do you want anything specific?”

“Can I have you, please?” he responded with a smirk

“Pizza or sushi?” you asked, playfully pinching his cheek “You can have me later” you winked at him and walked away. Loki just smiled at you. Norns! He was so in love with you!

“Let’s have pizza tonight!” he answered. You couldn’t see it but the god was blushing like stupid.

The two of you were laying down in your fort, I mean, castle as the last minutes of “My neighbor Totoro” played on your TV. Pizza boxes and empty mugs were scattered across your living room but you didn’t mind the mess. The only thing that you were focused on was the god who you’ve been cuddling with this whole evening.

“What do you want to watch next?” Loki asked and you realised that the movie was already over.

“I don’t think I want to watch anything else tonight” you announced and yawned involuntarily. Loki took the remote and turned the TV down. He kissed your head and pulled you even closer to him. Your foreheads were touching as you gazed into each other's eyes. If Loki had any doubts before, there were all gone now. Loki’s lips ghosted over yours but before you could kiss him, he whispered those sweet words you wanted to hear for so long. And his heart skipped a beat when you said them back.

[unifycurlyfry]

I'm going to be answering a ship prompt question list but spread out in days cause I ramble haha.

What is each member’s love language?

Kaz likes receiving physical affection and words of affirmation the most. His least favorite is acts of service. 

Ibuki likes receiving quality time and physical affection the most. Her least favorite is words of affirmation.

Ibuki is a very physically affectionate person. She's always latching onto Kaz and touching him in some sort of way even if it’s just tapping him on the arm repeatedly as a fidget thing, grabbing his cheeks and peppering him in kisses and sudden hugs and holding his hand while bouncing up and down. Plus cuddling is one of her favorite things ever. Even just to friends she’s always touching them. 

She’s a big believer in quality time. I believe their relationship is very lax, as in they don’t get upset when they’re spending more time with the others than each other for a couple of days; Kaz and Ibuki likes to run off and do whatever separately a lot, but the moments where they’re spending time together just the two of them laughing their lungs out or having deep talks or doing shenanigans all mean a lot to her, or rather to both of them. Laughing is also her love language. She’s giggling in every situation and her giggles are almost just her saying “I love you.”

She also feeds off the feeling of Kaz being in love with her if that makes any sense; like the feeling of him being flustered and happy and blushy rubs off on her. Hence why, for example, she sexually pleasures Kaz more than the vice versa, and why she’s perfectly okay and loves being the one that guides them in stages of their relationship most of the time. Individuality is like her entire thing and I think that she doesn’t feel any loss of her individuality paired with Kaz.

Kazuichi really likes giving gifts. Hell, making things is his whole thing. Ibuki does not show her love with gifts and is a terrible gift giver, but boy does Kaz express lots of love by gifts and she loves every single one of them. I think she’s one of those people who puts extreme sentimental value on everything, and so every ring he has made her is kept pristinely clean and organized and the purple flower he spotted and held up to her hair and said “it matches your hair” is long since dead yet still in her drawer. She loves everything she gets and never takes it for granted or throws it to the side. 

Kazuichi is someone that needs a lot of reassurance. He’d be that meme where it’s like waking up the partner in the middle of the night and going “do you like like me?” and the partner responds back with “we’ve been dating for five years,” haha. He needs someone who is not annoyed by that fact, and I cannot see Ibuki ever getting annoyed or off-put by it. She is more than happy to give it to him. So while he refuses it, words of affirmation are important to keep Kaz knowing he’s loved. He gets blushy and embarrassed, but so so giddy. On the other hand, if Kaz ever tried to say some of the things Ibuki says to him, she’d fake a gag and/or laugh in his face. To say she never enjoys a little sap though sometimes would be a lie. 

They’re a very physical affectionate couple and they both thrive off of it. Ibuki jumping on him and peppering his skin in kisses all over, holding hands, cuddling every night, having sexual intimacy fairly often, their knees touching as they’re sitting, a hand on a shoulder, etc. Ibuki is a loud and proud “toucher” and Kazuichi is a flustered mess “toucher,” but gets more used to it and confident over time. He went from never wanting to engage in PDA to liking it. 

“Acts of service” is not too relevant in their relationship. Kazuichi mostly doesn’t care to receive it, as he’s pretty stingy on who touches the things he is working on and gets extremely in the zone when he is working. Ibuki doesn’t have many things he could even service her towards besides always being willing to fix a speaker or guitar. They both are… slobs. If it weren’t for TeruTeru, they’d be eating junk food always and if it weren’t for others on the island their cabins would be a mess. An organized mess, but a mess. 

Their love languages match very well!

[ivorydragoness44]

dtror!Hades x fairy!Reader: Good

Word Count: 642 Warnings/Notes: Accidental jump scare by Hades, established relationship, mention of Hades ending his romantic relationship with Maleficent to be with the Reader, minor teasing, fluff, nuzzling, and kissing. Summary: Hades finds the Reader enjoying the weather outside and it becomes a cute little interaction.

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

  Merlin Academy. All were welcome and all were taught like any other enrolled student. Just beyond the titled plaque and ever watching statued owl, was a quaint little lake. That was where you found yourself one weekend.   Your jacket was laid out on a stretch of grass for you to sit on, and a book loosely in your grasp. The attention you had was far too busy taking in the scenery. How the gentle breeze rustled the leaved in the trees and created small rippling waves across the shimmering lake. It was almost magical.

  The overall serenity of the moment was feeling sensational until a warm breath tickled your neck and sent sharp spikes of alarm beneath your skin.   “You’re out here again?”   “Hades,” you exhaled. With a single hand to your chest, you took a steadying breath. “What did you do, appear in a smoky haze?”   The small spikes of his jacket rustled against the fabric on your back. “Not yet,” he smiled against the crook of your neck. “Did I scare you?”   “Yes, you did.”   His voice softened. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, pressing a kiss to your skin. “I’m sorry, I wanted to surprise you.”   You let out a small laugh. “Well, mission accomplished, Lord of the Underworld.”   “I should take you there some time,” he said. A smile returned to his voice. It was not entirely rare, but sometimes it’s what follows that does.   “Are there visiting hours?”   “I think I can work something out.”

  Nuzzling his face into your neck, his gloved hands delicately caressed your upper arms.   You pondered on his words for a moment. It was strikingly familiar to something that he had said before.   “Was that not what you said when you fell for me while you were still with Maleficent?”   He paused, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Literally or emotionally fell?”   Swatting at his hands, you laughed. “You know which.”   “Those were two very different instances.”   You rolled your eyes. “You do love fairies.”   He hummed, sending a chill down your body. “No. Just the one.”   “Good.”   Hades chuckled and dropped himself down onto his back beside you. “Good?” He smiled up at you.   “Yes. Or else what would’ve been all of those nights of you trying to find the words to tell Maleficent without shattering her heart and confidence? All the time afterward of us apart to spare us—me—her rage if she were to”—   Hades grabbed your hands and brought them to his chest. “She has no anger toward you. I know that much. It will only and ever be on me.” He sighed. “Besides…I think I gave her a confidence boost in saying that she’s too good for me. I didn’t lie. And don’t you go and get jealous, because I know that you’re too good for me too.”

  As he kissed each of your fingertips, you smiled. “You’re good too, you know.”   “Heh, enlighten me, because I doubt the professors would agree with you.”   “Skipping class does not mean you’re a bad person. Heck, Hades, you and I don’t necessarily have to be here given our ages. But…we are here to learn, right? That’s the whole reason in attending Merlin Academy. Merlin is so knowledgeable that I can’t even complete a list of subjects that he knows even if I tried.”   He gave a false frown. “I guess I can go to my classes more often.”   You tapped your finger against his lower lip teasingly. “Don’t you want a study partner to spend time with?”   The dark eyebrows on his face furrowed. “Morgie?”   “No!” You laughed and dropped to your side on him. “Me. I was talking about me,” your laugh mixed with his as you both quaked in laughter on the lawn. “You’re ridiculous.”   “No, I’m hot.”   “I know, what else is new?”

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

Thank you for reading!

If you'd like to read more fanfics from me, check out the pinned post on my blog for all of my masterlists.

[roomsofangel]

LOVER, PLEASE STAY

chapter four

synopsis you and wooyoung have been best friends for as long as you could remember, always overcoming everything in your friendship even after a few bumps in the road and confessions in the past. you could always trust that no matter wooyoung will always be there, right?

wc 4.3k

chapter warnings mentions of drug usage, wooyoung and yn have an argument / wooyoung breaks down

a/n the fact i update this either everyday or every other day… but hope you guys dont mind </3 the next update will be a little slower due to work and trying to bag these ateez tickets with my partner 🙁

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ♥️

“something’s wrong with wooyoung," san mentioned one morning while handing you a dish from beside you that you started washing. you shifted your gaze away from the sink and water and towards him as he leaned against the counter. his side pressed on it a bit more as he continued, "i don't know... but, you notice it, too. don’t you?" his breath came out in an exasperated exhale as he waited for your response.

you gazed down, wanting nothing more than to just focus on how the warm water poured on your hands. the moment was quiet for a few minutes, and your mind raced with all kinds of thoughts. the uncertainty, the silence, and the tension between you and wooyoung recently that was becoming more apparent with every passing day. the strain was starting to wear on you, and that was obvious to everyone around you. “it’s hard not to.” you finally answered after a few minutes of silence, and your voice was solemn and tired.

san frowned at your response, and his expression became more concerned. you could sense the distress in his voice. "do you think we should intervene? what if he ends up like—?“ he started to say, but you interrupted him.

"don't." you said, and your tone was firm. you knew what he was going to say, and you didn't want to hear or think about it. your mind was already spiraling enough, and you didn't need him adding more to it.

san remained silent, looking at you with a mixture of concern and confusion. "but what if..." he began to say but stopped himself, realizing that you already knew. you had already considered that possibility, and it was not something you wanted to think about any further.

“just drop it, okay?" you said, your voice more firm than before as you tried to stop the spiral of thought that was quickly starting to take hold.

san sighed, and the silence that followed weighed heavier than before. "i talked to seonghwa too, you know," he mention. the statement felt somewhat out of place and sudden, and it only added to the tension that surrounded you both. you could sense the strain and stress building up in his words, and you wondered what else he knew or had heard.

"he's worried," san continued, "and so are the rest... they know something's up too. all of them do. but if they ask me, i don't know if i should tell them or not. i mean, it's wooyoung’s own business. i can't just let the secret slip, but.." his voice trailed off, and he let out a long, tired exhale.

"...that’s exactly the problem," san continued, "it’s his own business, but we're all worried about him. i mean, he hasn't been himself for a while now. he’s more reserved, more distant, and there is this strange tension between him and the rest of us. like he's hiding something, or he's just... not there. not fully there."

when you finally became aware of your grip on the dish, the dishes in front of you had already become clean. you were so lost in your thoughts, your head overflowing with memories and worries, that you had failed to notice the mundane task you were supposed to be doing. "i know.." you whispered, because you did. and it pained you that you couldn’t do anything but watch wooyoung destroy himself, or at least that's what it felt like.

"and... and it hurts," you continued softly, as if the admission was too painful for you to keep silent any longer. "it hurts to see him like this, to see him become something... someone that he's not. to see him shut himself off from all of us, to close himself in his own world and not let anyone else in. it’s painful and exhausting."

"he’s like a shell of himself," you went on. "i mean, he's still wooyoung, but... he's not at the same time. and i know i shouldn't say this... but it feels like we've lost him. like the wooyoung we all knew is gone, and there's just... this shell of a person left."

san nodded as he listened to you. he saw the pain and worry in your eyes, and he knew that you needed reassurance. so he held his arms out for you, inviting a hug. "it’s gonna be okay," he tried to reassure the both of you, but he didn't seem so sure himself. it was clear from his tone that he was just as worried, just as unsure. but he needed to remain strong, he needed to believe that things would work out. after all, it had to.

you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling and reminiscing over memories. they were just that, memories. it felt like ages ago, it felt like a whole different world. you were weeping over someone who was still alive, and it made no sense. how did you mourn for someone who was still standing in front of you, with a heart still beating? with a breath still being taken at regular intervals? with thoughts that were still running through their head, and feelings that were still taking place in their veins?

you tried to ignore the tears that were threatening to pour at any moment. everything in your room was a reminder of wooyoung and who he used to be. you could see him across the hall in his own bedroom, but...was that really still him? his demeanor seemed to have changed so dramatically that it no longer resembled the person you fell in love with initially. he was becoming someone else, someone you didn't recognize. and you didn't know if you could handle it anymore.

hearing your phone buzz, you shifted to your side to grab it and take a look. it was hongjoong’s text, asking if you wanted to come to see a movie with him and seonghwa. you recalled the last time you spoke with him, and remembered the intensity of the conversation. sure, he was deeply worried about you and was telling you things you needed to hear that night. but it only made you want to hide more since it meant you had to acknowledge more that you and wooyoung were no longer the same.

you wanted to continue living in the blissful bubble you had created where the two of you were fine, and nothing had changed. but the more time you spent in that space, the more the realities of the situation began to sink in, and the more the cracks in your bubble started to appear. so you avoided talking about the truth for as long as you could, until it got to the point where you could no longer deny it.

“that’s your problem, yn!” hongjoong looked at you with a concerned expression as he stood in front of you with san and seonghwa who matched the same energy. they had seen the situation unfold before enough times to know better than to intervene or get in the way when hongjoong was like this.

as he continued, he spoke louder, like he was trying to get through to you. "you give yourself away to people who keep shoving those parts of you back into your hands," he ranted, becoming more frustrated with each word.

you looked at him with teary eyes, knowing the truth but not wanting to face it. “i know this isn’t what you want to hear but you need to hear this, yn. because i don’t know if you know this but putting a light inside the house your soul died in will not stop it from haunting you.” hongjoong looked at you and his words hit deeper than you expected

"you need to let that light go," he continued, his voice becoming even more impassioned. "you need to let go of the pain, the anger, the sadness, and the guilt that you've held onto for so long. you need to come to terms with the fact that the house is empty, the light is gone, and it is time for you to move on."

when you stopped denying the truth, you began to see things clearer. hongjoong was right, you knew. "you need to let that light go," he had said, but the light he was referring to wasn't a literal one. it was... wooyoung. your best friend was the light you needed to let go of, to come to terms with the fact that it was gone and that you would never get it back.

"you’ve been hiding behind it for too long, too scared to let go," hongjoong persisted, "because if you let go, you would have to face the darkness that has clouded your mind, the feelings that you've been avoiding and refusing to acknowledge. it will be painful, it will be difficult. but it's the only way for you to truly heal."

you remained frozen in silence as hongjoong continued to speak, his words hitting home and piercing you with a truth that you had been actively avoiding. he was right, everything he said was true.

"hongjoong, that's enough," seonghwa’s gentle voice cut through the tension, calling for the confrontation to end. you glanced up and saw his reassuring hand placed gently on hongjoong’s shoulder.

"she’s dealt with enough," he continued. "she doesn't need to hear more, nor does she need to listen to any more harsh words."

as you spoke, your voice became thick, choked by the lump in your throat. "i just... don't want him to think i gave up on him."

"i don't want wooyoung to think i didn't give it my all..." your voice trailed off as you began to choke up. "but i..." you stopped, unable to continue as your tears continued to flow. "i just," you sighed, "i can't give up on him."

your voice cracked with every breath you took, and the tears continued to flow as the pain of realizing how impossible the situation had gotten began to sink in. "i know... i won't... give up on him," you whispered through your sniffles, your throat tight and your heart heavy.

later that night, you were cleaning up around the living space when you saw wooyoung stumbling in, clearly just waking up. you spoke softly to show that you knew he was there, and he grumbled in response. you exchanged a glance with him, noticing his disheveled appearance, and the dark circles under his eyes.

"are you alright?" you asked softly, his response was a grunt, followed by another grunt as he proceeded toward his room without a word. you followed him with your eyes, feeling guilty for asking him anything at all.

you watched as he stumbled back into his room, and a pang of guilt stabbed your heart. you knew he was going through a difficult time, and here you were asking him if he was okay. of course, he wasn't. and you knew that. but what else could you have done? you wanted to speak with him, to see him, to try and be there for him. but he didn't want to speak with you.

after he went into his room, you slowly continued cleaning up the shared space. you couldn't quite bring yourself to go to bed yet, even though you were exhausted. you took care to make sure things were as tidy and clean as they could be, despite the mess that was in your mind. your heart continued to ache with guilt and sadness for your best friend, and you wondered if there was anything you could have done to help him.

you decided to try one more time, gathering your courage and taking your time to slice his favorite fruits like you always did in the past when he was sad. you made your way into his dark room and saw that it was a mess, but you ignored the clutter and scattered clothing. you simply placed the plate of fruit on his bedside table and made a quiet retreat, just leaving the plate of fruit with him and not trying to talk to him again.

as you prepared to exit the room, your eyes scanned the entire space. your heart skipped a beat as your gaze landed on the small ziplock baggie in the corner. you tried to ignore it and pretend as if your mind was playing tricks on you. but you knew that it was real. you saw the tiny powder-like stains beneath the baggies, and you knew that it was more than just a reflection of the light.

you couldn't ignore the small pile of bags on the nightstand. instead, you found your eyes drawn to them, watching the glint of light off the powder-like stains beneath them. you knew what this was, and a chill ran down your spine as you finally accepted the truth. wooyoung's struggles were evident in the things he kept so hidden from you, the substance he kept close by.

it suddenly became very clear to you why wooyoung had been acting the way he had lately. his secretive behavior, the late nights, the withdrawn attitude. everything made sense now.

the truth hit you like a wave of ice-cold water. wooyoung had been using drugs. you had been blind to the signs and the warnings, but this was the confirmation you had been avoiding. and now, you couldn't avoid the reality anymore.

the shock slowly turned into sadness, like a weight settling in your stomach as you stood there, staring at the baggie of drugs on his nightstand. you were numb, frozen on the spot as you processed this revelation. wooyoung had always been so responsible, so sensible, so protective of you. never in a million years would you have imagined him turning to drugs to cope with his problems.

as you were about to leave the room, you were caught off guard by the sudden sound of wooyoung's voice. "you're... not supposed to see those," he rasped out, sounding exhausted and annoyed. you jumped a little at the sudden sound and his harsh tone, feeling like you'd been caught red-handed even though you knew you had every right to go into his room.

he sighed and sat up slowly, the mattress squeaking beneath his movement. "they’re just for me," wooyoung said in a low voice, his tone turning defensive. "they... they help me... cope," he continued, his voice trailing off at the end as he looked away from you. you noticed how he avoided your eyes, instead focusing on the floor below.

wooyoung’s words hung heavy in the air. they were clearly a crutch for him, helping him to cope with the pressures of life. but it was clear that they did little more than numb him. you watched as his eyes darted around the room as if he was nervous about something. his eyes flitted between the zipper bags on his nightstand, and he seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he stopped himself.

the tension in the air was palpable, and you could sense the heaviness in his breath. you couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, what he wanted to say but couldn't.

“i can't let you keep destroying yourself, woo”, you said, your voice soft and compassionate. you didn't want to lecture him, you just tried your best to help him see the harm he was doing to himself. but he resisted your words, pushing back with his own defensiveness.

"please, just... let me have this," wooyoung said, a sharp edge to his tone. "don’t try and take this away from me, don't try and protect me. i’m fine, really. i can handle this," he snapped, his tone growing more frustrated. he didn't want you to interfere, didn't want you to try and protect him. he wanted to handle it on his own.

as you watched him, your heart broke even further. he wasn't fine, he wasn't handling it, he was using drugs to cope with his pain. and you were afraid of what would happen if he continued this way. wooyoung's eyes met yours, sharp with his anger, as he continued to resist your words. "don’t you trust me?" he said, suddenly looking more fragile than before.

"don’t you dare say that." you glared at him, feeling your anger rising as you struggled to control yourself. "you know i trust you, but i don't trust that..." you gestured to the baggies on his nightstand, your words heavy in the air. you could feel his defensiveness intensifying, a wall of bitterness rising as he felt he was being accused.

"you’re going to preach to me now, aren't you?" wooyoung glared at you, his frustration clear in his words. "tell me all about how drugs are bad, how they hurt our bodies, how they damage our brains, how they can't fill the void inside of us... is that what you're gonna say?"

wooyoung's glare was intense, his words dripping with hostility as he began to lash out. he knew how he used drugs to cope had been irresponsible and harmful, but he didn't want to be lectured about it. he felt defensive and angry, and he was not going to back down from this argument.

"so you just go right ahead and pretend as if it's not a problem." wooyoung continued, his frustration growing as he glared at you. "you know damn well that they help me cope, that they fill the void i feel inside of me. they make me feel numb, but at least i don't feel anything at all when i’m like this. so just let me have this, and stop trying to interfere."

you could feel your shoulders shaking, your eyes growing damp with tears as you looked at him. "what the hell happened to you, wooyoung?" you choked out the question, your throat clogging with emotion as you struggled to hold it together. you wanted to understand... you wanted to help him.

you saw his expression harden even further as he looked at you, his eyes no longer filled with anger, but rather something closer to contempt. as you choked back your tears, you realized that he seemed to think you were being dramatic. he didn't see the severity of his situation, didn't want to acknowledge that he was falling apart in front of you. your throat tightened as your eyes burned from the fight and the tears that were starting to fall.

you felt something growing inside of you as he stared at you with contempt. anger? hurt? you were feeling these emotions clash with one another as your eyes blurred with moisture. you wanted to yell that you cared about him, that you were just trying to help... but you knew it would fall on deaf ears. instead, you stayed silent, trying to hold back your sobs. it was like he didn't trust you anymore.

"oh... you're crying now, are you?" wooyoung said, his tone cutting and cold. "so you really do enjoy drama then, don't you? you want to try and make me feel worse than i already do, huh? well, you're not going to succeed, so save your tears for someone who cares."

his words stung, hitting everything that was vulnerable and painful inside you. you knew he knew what to say, which string he needed to tug on in order to hurt you the most. you tried to speak, but your voice shook and came out in a whisper. "stop." you tried to be stern, to defend yourself, but you knew that your defenses were crumbling away.

wooyoung smirked at you, and you wanted to slap him for the cruel way he was behaving. he seemed to be taking pleasure in the way he was hurting you, in the way he was tearing you down. he wasn't even hiding the fact that he knew exactly how to bring you down and tear you apart. he seemed to be enjoying it.

there was no holding back now, no restraint. your voice shot up in volume even as you tried to bite it back. "what have i ever done to you?" you looked at him, your eyes burning and your heart racing wildly. "what the hell have i done to deserve this?"

wooyoung stared at you, his eyes narrowing. he seemed to be considering the weight of your words, trying to decide if he wanted to answer honestly. after a moment, he seemed to just decide to be blunt with you. "you’ve never done anything to me," he finally replied simply.

"that's the thing," wooyoung said, his attitude finally starting to soften. "you haven't done a damn thing to me." he had finally stopped fighting back, and his tone had changed from one of anger and aggression to one that was just... tired.

"you’ve just... been there. being my friend. caring for me.. loving me." wooyoung’s voice cracked at the last word, and he seemed to be trying to control himself from breaking down.

"and what do you get out of it?" he took a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. "me falling apart on drugs, making you cry, treating you like crap? is that what you deserve from your friend?"

he quickly cut you off when you began to open your mouth, stopping you from making any excuses for him. "don’t you start with the whole excuses for me, yn," he said. his tone was harsh, like a snapping order. he seemed to be trying to hold on to the last shred of his composure.

"please." his voice cracked on the last word, and his eyes suddenly filled with pain and sorrow. you could see the pain of his life finally coming to surface... the sadness and hopelessness that had been buried under the drugs and the denial finally coming back to haunt him.

he was so vulnerable, so fragile in this moment, and you couldn't help but feel heartbroken for him. the thought of him hurting like this, of him being so miserable and lost and alone, all because of the drugs and the denial, was unbearable. you wanted to reach out and comfort him, to hold him close and wipe away his pain, but you didn't know how.

"i know i’m not perfect, i know i’ve done things... i’ve hurt you..." wooyoung’s voice cracked and he paused, trying to collect himself. "i just... i’m so tired. i’m so tired of fighting, of trying to keep things together, of being in pain..."

he looked at you, and his eyes were filled with raw emotion.

"i don't want to give up on us," he continued. "you’ve been here for me... through everything... please don't give up on me."

wooyoung seemed to be opening up to you again, letting his walls down and showing you the real him. the one who was tired, scared, and scared of losing you. the one who was afraid of being alone. he looked at you, begging you to stay with him, not to give up on him like everyone else. he needed you.

“i can’t give up on you even if i tried,” your voice was quiet as you spoke this to him

"i know you can't give up on me, but i just don't know if i can... keep on like this." he seemed so miserable and exhausted, like he was on the brink of collapse. "i’m so tired," he continued, his voice shaking. "so tired of all the stress and anxiety and the fear of what's to come... i just..."

he paused again, as if trying to find the words to say all the things he was feeling. "i just don't have the strength to do this anymore," he finally admitted. "i’m tired of carrying all this weight on my shoulders, of pretending like everything is okay, when it's not... i’m just... i’m so fucking tired."

the words were pouring out of him, as if he had been holding them inside for a long time. the exhaustion and the pain, the weight and the worry, the fear and the grief... it was all finally coming out. his voice cracked, and he seemed to be fighting back the tears that were welling in his eyes.

wooyoung broke down finally, sobbing as his arms tremblingly folded around his torso. his body was racked with a mixture of sadness and pain, as he let the weight of his emotions finally take over. "i don't want to drag you down with me," he said, his voice trembling. "but i’m so damn selfish. you see, i’m so selfish that..." his words were beginning to be muffled, and he seemed to be struggling to continue.

"i don't want to lose you," he suddenly mumbled, his cheeks soaked with tears. "i’m so selfish that i don't want to let you go, that i keep dragging you down with me even though i know it's destroying you too... i know it's wrong, i know it's so damn selfish, but i can't let go..."

wooyoung was crying hard, openly and unapologetically. he was a mess of emotion, of hurt and fear and sorrow and pain. he didn't like the way he was hurting you, but he didn't know how to stop. he was stuck in this cycle of self-destruction, and he couldn't see a way out.

previous . . masterlist . . next

taglist @special4u @vampzity @jwone @dulceeed @fantasy2wonderland @fixedonlove

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Would you be willing to do relationship hcs with any of the following from Blue Exorcist? :0

Juzo Shima, Satan, Shiro Fujimoto, Yuri Egin, Mephisto?

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! I hope you like the headcanons.

Fandom: Blue Exorcist

Characters: Juzo Shima, Satan, Shiro Fujimoto, Yuri Egin, Mephisto Pheles x gn! Reader (separate)

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General dating headcanons for the Blue Exorcist characters.

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

Juzo is an interesting balance between a super caring partner who would never hurt a fly and someone who would fight entire wars if you asked him to.

In the same vein, he’s more than willing to do anything you ask of him, even if it’s something as simple as getting rid of a bug.

A really good listener. Anything you want to talk about, he’s setting aside whatever he reasonably can to put all of his focus on you.

I feel like he can be a bit overprotective at times, even to the point of smothering you but if you ask him to back off and let you do your thing, he’ll respect your wishes.

Juzo just doesn’t want anything to happen to you. He’s already lost a lot of his friends and family to demons, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you too.

Satan’s a challenging one to write relationship headcanons for, mostly because the only “relationship” we ever saw him in was his obsession with Yuri. So I’ll try to write these as accurately as possible without making them completely toxic.

Very willing to learn from you and listen. He’s a curious being after all and, while the number of people he trusts or cares about is very small, he does value their opinions.

Definitely the kind of person (can I call him a person if he’s a demon?) to cherish quality time. He can be a bit clingy sometimes, but he just wants to spend time with the person he cares about most.

He’s also very into gift giving but be warned, his gifts may be a bit erratic at first. He’s sort of like a stray cat that’s taken a liking to you. You might end up with dead bugs and sticks beside your bed.

All of that being said, a relationship with Satan is almost certain to be toxic in some way shape or form. He’s never had a “normal” relationship and doesn’t know where to start since he doesn’t see anything wrong with his way of thinking.

Shiro is a lot like Juzo in that he’s got two sides to him in a relationship. And I don’t mean this in a bad way!

On one hand, he’s the most caring and protective partner you could hope for. He’s always paying attention to what you’re talking about and will do his best to support you in everything you do.

On the other hand, he will tease you mercilessly and play minor pranks at every possible moment. It’s one of his love languages.

Having said that, he respects you deeply and will always back off with his teasing if you’ve had a bad day or ask him to stop.

He’s also amazing at helping you relax after a long day. He’s drawing you a relaxing bath, adding some decorations (if the Vatican didn’t want him using those exorcism candles and salt for baths, why did they work so well for just that?) and cooking your favourite meal. It’s really the least he can do.

Yuri is a very caring partner. She was able to show kindness to Satan, even after everything he did so she’s certainly capable of caring deeply about someone so close to her.

She loves spending quality time with you. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, as long as you’re able to sit together.

As part of this, she loves twining one leg around yours while you’re sitting together if that’s something you’re comfortable with.

She didn’t have the best childhood, so she does sometimes have doubts about your relationship. Just give her some words of reassurance (or acts of affection if words aren’t your thing) and she’ll be feeling better in no time.

Yuri would love it if you’re interested in exorcism. She’s got a lot she wants so talk about, especially regarding demons not being as bad as everyone makes them out to be, so please let her ramble about her thoughts.

Mephisto is an interesting case. If you’re in a relationship, that means you’ve caught his attention. And that means he’s going to protect you with all of his demonic powers.

However, sometimes he can seem as though he’s only with you because he sees you as a curiosity.

If this ever gets too much or you’re doubting the sincerity of your relationship, just tell him and he’ll set aside his piles of paperwork to talk to you about his behaviour.

He loves entertaining you with his magic, as well as going on fun dates. Mephy Land is always a hit and, since he owns the place, you’ll never have to pay for any of the food or rides.

He’s surprisingly attentive when you’re talking about your day. He wants to learn more about humans and their behaviours and what better way than to study the person he cares about most.

[nero-vanderwolf]

Of all the people Yosuke would be expecting to get a call from at 10:14 at night, Yu is decidedly not one of them. 

And of all the reasons he can run through that his partner could be calling him, the real answer is decidedly not one of them. 

“Hey, partner. Wanna sleep over at my house tonight? Nanako-chan is staying at a friend’s house and Uncle is working late again,” Yu’s voice says. He sounds cheerful enough, but Yosuke’s known him long enough to hear the undertone of anxiety hidden in his words. 

Yosuke knows Yu hates being alone. The guy can’t stand it, even if it’s just for a night or two. Hey- Yosuke isn’t making fun of the guy or anything, god no. It’s just... Something he’s picked up on throughout their time together. 

Investigation Team or not, Yosuke still considers Yu his partner. And it’d be pretty damn cruel if he said no to what’s really, in all logic, a very simple request. And besides, it isn’t as though they haven’t slept at each other’s houses before. 

So Yosuke grins as he grabs his keys from his locker and tosses his apron inside like always. Far be it from him to subject their leader to more suffering. 

“Sure thing, partner. Want me to grab some clothes from my place?” He asks, shifting his phone to his other hand so he can clip his keys to his jeans. Thank god for carabiners. 

“No, no need. You know I always keep spares for you here, Yosuke,” Yu says. He sounds a bit excited now, as though the idea of spending time with Yosuke is something worth looking forward to. 

Yosuke would never admit it, but it gives him a bit of an ego rush. His beloved partner, the cool and untouchable transfer from Tokyo, the kickass leader of the Investigation Team... Is excited about a sleepover. With him, Yosuke Hanamura- Trash Prince of Junes. 

It really does wonders for his ego. 

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t know what I was thinking asking that,” Yosuke says with a small laugh, brushing off the warmth that spreads to his cheeks as a bodily reaction to the chill outside. It’s September, which naturally means it’s getting colder out. Dammit, why didn’t he grab a jacket? 

Yu laughs on the other line, and Yosuke yet again feels his cheeks warm up. He did that. Hemade Yu laugh. 

A quiet part of him wonders if he laughs that way around the others. If Chie’s snarky comments get the rumble of a chuckle, or if Teddie’s bad-but-well-intentioned bear puns make him snort. 

He wonders if this laugh, soft and breathy and quiet, was reserved just for him. He wonders how many other things are meant for him too, if any. 

Do his eyes sparkle like that when he talks to one of his plethora of friends? Do his lips quirk when they make a bad joke like they do around him? Does he laugh like that around anyone else, like he’s shy of how his laugh sounds even though it’s one of the best sounds in the world- 

Woah, Yosuke. Reel it in a bit. Thinking about a guy’s general physique is one thing (nothing wrong with appreciating a nice build!), but thinking about smaller details like that? That’s a bit far. 

Details like his lips and how they take on a soft smile whenever Yosuke talks. Details like his hair and how soft and perfect it always seems to look, even on the days with the worst weather. Details like his eyes and how their shade of grey seems to shift with his mood. When Yu is happy, they’re a light grey. When he’s angry, they’re stormy grey. When he’s focusing, they look like steel. 

...Jesus fuck. What is wrong with him tonight? Why does it seem like no matter what he does, his thoughts always seem to shift back to Yu? 

It’s now that he realises that he’s still on call with the guy- and that neither of them have spoken a single word since Yosuke left Junes. He shivers again, and breaks the comfortable silence. 

“Hey, partner... Don’t suppose you’d be willing to turn on the kotatsu? It got colder than I thought and...” 

“And you forgot a jacket?” Yu responded with an airy sigh. He doesn’t sound annoyed, thankfully. More like... Exasperated. Yu’s long-since become used to Yosuke’s antics, and treats it like another classic Yosuke Blunder. 

“Sorry,” Yosuke responds automatically. He doesn’t know particularly why he’s apologising, but it slips out. 

He can almost picture Yu shaking his head as he grows closer to the Dojima household, and as Yu’s voice drags him back from whatever stupid wild fantasy Yosuke was about to cook up again. 

“Am I going to have to start texting you every day to remind you?” He asks, and Yosuke knows he’s joking, he honestly does, but he can’t stop the blush and defensive splutter. 

“Wha- hey, now, I’m not that forgetful! It was just this once, honest!” He says, and he sees the door of the Dojima residence slide open and shut. Yu’s figure stands there, staring him down. As always, he looks poised and perfect. 

Yosuke hangs up, breaking into a jog to reach his partner. 

Yu stuffs his phone into his pocket and extends his hand. Yosuke is confused at first, but then- 

Yu tugs him into a hug, his slender arms muscled from so much time in the TV world- 

Good lord, he can’t even do something as simple as hug his partner anymore without his imagination running wild with fantasies about being picked up and carried like some girl- 

“You’re freezing. Let’s get you inside and warmed up. The kotatsu should be heated by now, and I made us both some hot chocolate. Don’t worry, there’s extra whipped cream on yours.” 

Yosuke swallows harder than he means to. Yu’s voice is soft in his ear, his body warm against Yosuke’s own. If not for the bitter chill outside, Yosuke could fall asleep here. Yu always did have a talent for making him feel safe. 

“Thanks, partner. You... Really know me well, huh?” He manages to choke out. If Yu noticed, he doesn’t give any sign. 

“Well, I’d hope so. I think I’d have failed as your partner if I didn’t know things like this,” Yu responds with ease. It makes Yosuke’s throat feel even tighter. 

“Like knowing how I like my hot cocoa? That’s such a little thing, dude,” he says, laughing to lighten the tone. In reality, he can’t understand why Yu would make such a big deal out of such a small thing- 

Scratch that. It’s Yu they’re talking about. Sometimes there is no ‘why’, like when he befriended that detective Adachi for no other reason than he wanted to. 

Yu shrugs, slowly pulling away from the hug. Almost entirely subconciously, Yosuke finds himself chasing Yu’s warmth, leaning against him again. 

“Come on, Yosuke, you’ll catch a cold. We can cuddle more inside,” Yu says, and brings him inside. It isn’t until he settles under the kotatsu beside Yu that he realises what was said. 

...He supposes they are, technically, cuddling. They’re leaning against each other watching some shitty movie on a local channel, and Yosuke has never felt more at peace. 

Or, at least, until they settle down for bed. They’ve already changed into their pyjamas, and Yosuke is frankly exhausted. His shift at Junes was brutal, and he’s ready to crash. 

Unfortunately, he might have to sleep on the sofa in Yu’s room. There’s no spare futon. 

“I can sleep on the sofa, Yosuke, it’s fine-” Yu hurries to say as Yosuke stares at the room in general, trying to riddle out a solution to the predicament. 

As he ponders, he notices a few things about Yu’s room. Scattered about are various keepsakes and treasures from his friends and their adventures. 

A little knit rabbit sits on his desk- no doubt a gift from Kanji. A Jack Frost doll stands watch over the room from atop the shelf like a shrine’s liondog. It’s oddly comforting, despite the doll’s unsettling appearance. 

There’s no sudden trigger for his idea. It hits him like a kick to the gut and leaves him just as dizzy and breathless. 

“I have an idea,” he says slowly, “but you might not like it.” 

Yu frowns, brows furrowed under his fringe. He looks almost like he’s pouting- it’s cute. 

“What’s your idea, then? I’m all ears,” he says regardless. Always willing to hear others out even when he has his doubts- that’s the Yu Yosuke knows. His partner. 

“We share the futon,” Yosuke says. Yu visibly relaxes, his expression smoothing into one of almost-relief. His eyes shift from a stone-grey to a light grey. Nervous to happy. 

“Oh, okay. That’s not too bad. Of course, if you get uncomfortable in the middle of the night, just wake me up. I’ll move to the sofa.” 

Yosuke resists the urge to shake his head. He feels dizzy enough as it is, for some reason. 

Yu turns the bright overhead off, clicking on his small bedside lamp as he crawls into the futon. The light from the lamp bathes the room in a soft, warm glow. It makes Yu look particularly squishy, his hair falling into his eyes. Yosuke doesn’t want to keep him up much longer, so he slips into the futon beside him. 

“Goodnight, partner,” he says. Yu smiles at him, soft and sleepy, and it sends butterflies into his stomach. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh, no. This is why he’s been thinking these things, this is why he’s been focused on Yu so much. 

Oh. He owes Kanji a massive apology. 

Yu shifts where he’s laying, and suddenly Yosuke is being held close against his partner’s body. He can hear Yu’s heartbeat, steady and calm as ever. The sound helps calm him, somehow. 

This sudden realisation is a problem for tomorrow’s Yosuke. 

For now, he’s content to simply lay in the arms of his partner, safe and loved. 

LETS FUCKING GO!!!!!!! SOUYO FLUFF!!!!!!!!!!!! they're so sweet its rotting my teeth out ghhgggaahhh... yosuke's slow realization that he has feelings for yu... he DOES owe kanji an apology. i feel like souyo is a yu fell first and yosuke fell harder situation. i think yu loves yosuke and purposefully puts him in situations to see if yosuke likes him back, like the hugging. yosuke realizing how he feels warm and safe with yu, how they both see super small details in each other like how yosuke likes his hot chocolate or how yu's eyes change. i love the way you added yu's people pleaser traits to when he says he'll take the couch for yosuke. ugghhhh they're so stupid and i love them they should cuddle and kiss a million times thank you so much for the food

[myuiis]

because it's written down, you've memorized it

gungoo oneshot

1.7k words

angst because chapter 479 fundamentally changed me as a person

ao3 link if yall want:

"You’re going to die in your best friend’s arms. And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down, you’ve memorized it, it’s all you know."

So, this is the end, Park Jonggun thinks as he swirls his wine in his small glass, watching his breath turn to steam in front of his face. It’s not a bad one, by any means. The snow falling from the sky in ill-fated flurries that melt as soon as they touch his skin; the faint rumbling of Seoul in the background; Goo’s gentle breathing by his side. 

If anything, Gun thought this whole thing would’ve ended a lot differently. 

A knife fight, maybe, or some other sort of barely concealed violence– teeth gnashing, jaws snapping, claws scratching at each other’s throats. That’s how they met, after all. Standing alone in that junkyard, the sky pouring rain as if it was crying for them, blood dripping from their wounds, bones creaking from the effort of staying upright. 

But this isn’t much better, Gun thinks. It’s unfamiliar. Suffocating. 

It’s so antithetical, so fundamentally opposed to everything they are and were meant to be. Weapons are only supposed to draw blood, after all. Violence is all that they had ever known. 

So why is it that all he feels, watching his rival and partner and best friend of four years sitting on the ledge beside him, watching the clouds split into pieces and fall to the earth, all he feels is something stirring inside– a deep, dark, primordial fear? 

When will you leave? Will you really leave? Will I really have to kill you? Why did you do it, Goo Kim? 

Gun has always been a man familiar with fear. It comes with the territory when you kill for a living. But there’s something strange about this fear; it’s raw, a little bit ugly, a little bit too rough for even Gun to enjoy. 

But what’s worse is this: they accepted it so easily, as if it was carved on their bones, as if it was a script they’d both rehearsed; their end was an inside joke between friends– easy, familiar, funny. Even now, they both understand what kind of person the other is, what kind of choices the other would make. 

It’s like they both already knew this would happen, from the second they laid eyes on each other. They’re not the type of people for happy endings. 

Still, they stayed. 

Did Gun expect a different ending? Was he trying to achieve a different ending in the first place? Goo Kim, what did you do? What do I owe you? Is this really what you wanted after all? 

Is that why, when Goo asked him to drink, for the first and last time, he sounded so sad? 

But once again Goo doesn’t answer any of his questions; once again, Gun is secretly glad he doesn’t. 

They sit there under the roof of the old house, the snow still falling in clumps and flutters, its whiteness shining in the dim sunlight. 

“Hey.” 

The silence is broken when Goo finally speaks again. 

“I think I’ve gotta be on my way now.” 

Gun looks up from his hands, abruptly realizing how much time has passed when he sees the sun already setting. 

“Taejin might start getting worried that you killed me if I’m not back soon,” Goo continues. He cracks a soft smile at his own joke and stares at Gun, as if expecting him to reciprocate the smile. 

He does. 

“Why don’t we finish this bottle first?” he replies, picking the soju bottle up again to emphasize his point. 

“What, I thought you weren’t in the mood for drinking?” 

“Mm, changed my mind,” Gun replies, and that’s the end of it. 

They pour their drinks out and down it all in one shot again, like they did the last time. The alcohol burns pleasantly as it rolls down Gun’s throat, and he remembers why he likes it so much in the first place: it tastes like a fight.

 He thinks he’s drawn to Goo in the same way. 

They haven’t ever drank together, courtesy of Goo’s aversion to alcohol and all things that could be considered a “vice"; but as they sit there together, glasses clinking together, it feels as if they’ve done this a thousand times over. 

They pour out another shot and down it again. And then another. And then another. The entire time, they don’t speak a single word, barely even look at each other. Perhaps this was exactly the kind of ending that was fit for their relationship. 

The irony writes itself. 

A violent, glorious start, filled with snarky threats and bloodied fingers; a peaceful end. Like the slow fizzling out of stars that were never big enough to go supernova. Was that what Gun and Goo were to each other? 

Friends, colleagues, lovers that never were? 

Lovers, Gun thinks, whispers silently, rolling around the word on his tongue like he’s trying to weigh it, trying to scope out its smooth edges and sharp corners. It’s heavy. Unbearably so.  He doesn’t think it fits them, doesn’t think it ever will. 

Love is a tender, tender thing. Gun and Goo haven’t got a single bone in their body made for tenderness. All of their bones are for breaking. 

Gun looks over at Goo, only to find that Goo had already been staring at him for who knows how long. When Goo sees that he’s been caught, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he only grins. 

…Gun doesn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way the light bounced off the rim of Goo’s glasses and fluttered off his lashes like stars. Maybe it was the way Goo’s face looked especially pale amongst the snow, so pale that Gun thinks he’d fade away if he didn’t grab him. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the slight flush on Goo’s cheeks or the farewell that didn’t yet slip off his tongue or his annoying smile that Gun needed to wipe off his face. Maybe it wasn’t anything at all, but at that moment, it was so easy to just lean forward and take. 

So he does.

Gun leans in and kisses Goo. 

The moment is stretched thin to infinity, like time has just stopped. Goo makes a surprised, muffled sound and tenses, but the movement is brief. He eases into the kiss as well, as if he’s been waiting all his life for this, as if they’ve done this a million times.

The feeling of Goo’s perfectly maintained lips against Gun’s own chapped pair isn’t unfamiliar. Neither is the coolness of his glasses against Gun’s nose nor the way Goo shifts in his seat. 

After all, they had spent the greater part of the last three years together, and they had needed to explore some more… primal urges.

But what is unfamiliar is the tenderness. 

Gun and Goo’s kisses had always been tongues and teeth: a fight, a challenge, a dare. A battle for superiority, like everything else they’ve ever done. At the end of it, Goo always tasted like blood, whether it be his own or Gun’s.

The taste of Goo, unstained by blood or anger, is something softer, smoother, so much so that Gun hardly believes that it’s really the blonde that he’s kissing. Goo tastes like rain and home cooked food and dollar-store soju. 

Is this what a goodbye tastes like? 

If so, Gun thinks that he wants to say goodbye to Goo again and again and again. This is nice, he thinks. If the Earth stopped spinning right then and time stopped flowing, the fact that they’re there together in the first ever moment of gentleness they’ve ever shared would be enough.

Gun doesn’t remember who pulls away first. Maybe Goo did, judging by how he instantly moves to adjust his crooked glasses or rearrange his scarf; or maybe it was Gun himself, as he instantly moves to fix his hair. 

The moment ends, and they both pretend like nothing ever happened.

Goo is the first one to acknowledge it.

“You know, you’re actually pretty good at this stuff when you’re not trying to eat me alive,” he says, and it sounds noncommittal, like a joke. As if none of that just mattered. 

But the crack in his voice at the end gives him away. 

“But don’t think that it’s enough to get me to stay.”

Yeah. 

Gun knows. 

Goo is a breezy, capricious person. His moods come and go like the wind. But when he sets his sights on a path to walk, storms on his brows and a hurricane in his steps, there’s nothing in the world that can stop him. 

Gun isn’t any exception.

Still, it’s nice to know that he was at least a temptation. 

Goo dusts off his dustless coat and moves to stand up. There’s still a bottle of soju left in the bag he brought, and he points to it.

“Anyways, I’m actually leaving this time. That’s a gift for you. Have fun drinking alone, loser.” 

Gun snorts. 

“Yeah, thanks. Have fun drinking with your secret friends as well, idiot.” 

Goo smiles, but there’s no mirth behind it. There’s a swirl of other emotions there that Gun can’t quite put a finger on. Sorrow, melancholy, regret, but not wishfulness. They would’ve gotten to this point anyways, no matter what happened. 

“I will.” 

Goo turns to leave. Before he does, he gives a backwards glance at Gun, annoying smile still hanging off his face. 

“Hey,” he begins, and he sounds a little sad. Just a little. “It was nice while it lasted, Gun Park.” 

“Mhm.” 

And Goo walks off into the sunset.

Except–

Gun doesn’t know what came over him, perhaps it was the alcohol again, but whatever painful, ugly, tender thing drove him to kiss Goo the first time drives him to cup his hands around his mouth and shout:

“Kim Joongoo!” he cries after the figure in the distance. “Stay alive until the next time!” 

But Goo doesn’t turn around, doesn’t even acknowledge him. Gun can’t let it just end like this. No, he wants, he–

“Kim Joongoo!”

Did you hear me? 

Can you do that? 

Will we ever meet again? 

(Of course they will. They’re bound at the bones, joined by their flesh and their tendons and by something far greater that won’t ever, ever let them leave the other. Like two stars bound by each other’s gravity, they’ll never truly be able to leave. It’s hard to tell where Gun ends and Goo begins.) 

Goo turns around in the distance, and–maybe it’s a trick of the light– but he smiles back. It’s something small, reserved, and it’s entirely sincere and free of trickery. It’s something Gun thinks only he has ever seen. 

And Goo turns back around and walks off. Gun looks at his retreating form until he is consumed by the snow entirely.