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controld3vil · 2 months

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i'll hex you, i'll possess you

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader, aemond "one eye" targaryen x reader (unrequited/one sided)

synopsis: Your husband is gone. He perished in whatever was left of the battle, seared flesh, and dragon’s tar. As unbearable as it was, you fight for his throne against his brother. Believing it is for his for the taking.

notes: mentions of s02ep05, i fr feel so bad for aegon :( also cw: hints of obsessed!aemond (bc he's insane :D)

In quite a haste, you sped past all the onlookers like flies. They were nonexistent in your peripherals, your attention was entirely up ahead to the King’s chambers, the Kingsguards who stood by. Your Grace, they would say before allowing you passage past their protection. You took a glimpse, here in the dressing room for the King. Your King.

“Your Grace!” The seamstress chirped, turning to greet your lovely smile. And your righteous presence everywhere you went. It affected all now that you were the face of King’s Landing. It’s a hefty duty, yes, however, it seemed many subjects were willing, if not encouraged, of your subsequent role as the consoling figure for the realm to look to.

In front of a tall mirror was Aegon, in full Valyrian armor. You’d guessed the armor was passed down through his ancestral line, ancient, and beautiful it was kept. All the plates fit him perfectly with little alterations to adjust. Yet absent of the signature helmet paired with it, his blonde hair lay just above his shoulders, gently.

Ever so kind were your visage toward the King. You could feel the corners of your lips curve warmly at the sight of him. He was handsome and eager to appease the people of his kingdom. Though he may not be the first choice for Throne, you knew he was trying his best to uphold the responsibilities and burden those must bear. You would have to bear it as well if you were Queen.

“Good morrow,” You breathed, flattening the wrinkles of your dress as an excuse to eye at Aegon, openly. There was nothing to hide, simply it was different from his normal attire. In armor, in all of your lifetime, you never had to experience warfare, for better or worse.

“Ah, my lovely wife!” In exclamation, your husband turns to compliment your captivating smile as he gleams contentedly. He takes a few steps down from the small stairway from the miniature podium, while some of his personal Kingsguard can be heard snickering. Which you wholeheartedly ignored as your attention laid straight to your King’s beaming face. “Just who I wanted to see!”

“I must speak with you,” Through your expressed delightfulness, the tone of your voice is quickly replaced with a sour one. And it seemed to have caught the attention of the seamstress and others in the room as they all paused at your subtle notion of privacy. “Alone.” Only when you mention it, it’s as though they were a flock of birds, all fleeing from the chambers at once. A few clatters and suddenly the doors were quietly slammed shut with a whisper of a demand.

However, your husband did not seem fazed at all. He merely shrugged, casually walking to fill a cup or two with wine. Yet a visible glower can be caught right after he steps off the podium and to the table of beverages. Sometimes his reaction to your urgency was comedic. The King was never one to take duties earnestly. It’s one of his eminent flaws that all of the townsfolk and servants knew of. His days by the Silk Roads were but a regular story. But now, he is a changed man, Aegon thinks. They’ve witnessed all of his mistakes and tourneys. He’s young and has never been as interested in duty as his siblings. And now suddenly, he was pulled onto the seat as King. And you would have to sit beside him and watch. As a graceful symbol yet mute on what to say on any matter.

How horrendous was that?

“What troubles you, my sweet?” The sound of liquid plops as all of the noise from the outside world becomes muffled. For the past few days, it has been the most chaotic and tragic period of your life. Not just for you and Aegon, but everyone in King’s Landing. Your son, Jaehaerys, was left for dead at the hands of a murderer and false ruler. Panic was running through the streets of Flea Bottom. People questioned the King’s cruel punishment of the rat catchers though Aegon did not care for their grief.

To you, it was more than sadness. But anger and confusion, all of your pent-up emotions ever since living in King’s Landing have made you become this way. The Capital has changed you. To who you were as a person and figure of nobility. Now you were suddenly the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, yet only moments ago, you were the princess of the firstborn son of the King. You should have expected war to come between siblings over the throne, yet your father persisted that the marriage would’ve led to success. Having lost your child, your son, made the promise to communicate more to Aegon. To somehow seek solace in the empty void of your heart in whatever left the world had.

“You named Ser Criston Cole your Hand…” You mumbled slowly, the last words faded out into thin air. Was he wrong to do so? You did not want to say. For the little you knew about the battle being played at hand, you knew Aegon’s impulsiveness would come to the cost of many. Especially of the Council when they have refused relentlessly his thoughts and suggestions. So perhaps this decision would cause more upbringing for the noblemen to bleat about. “Why?”

A muffled sound and then a snort comes out of his mouth as Aegon proceeds to sip his wine. As if not a care of the world or your concern over the matter. “And why does this concern you?”

He does the courtesy to hand you your cup, as you clasped it eagerly to swallow whatever worry your heart must feel. The Queen Regent, Aegon’s brother, Aemond, and even Criston Cole, all look for you in the guidance you have over their King. You’ve yet to make it clear that you don’t control him like many others would consider to do. You’d think it's heartless to manipulate a man of his feelings, especially your husband.

Eventually, you lay the cup down, trailing your finger around the outer details of the golden goblet. It’s glimmering through the sun, carefully designed with outlines of a dragon and flames that surround the jugular of the base of the cup. It curves and twists under your palm as you proceed to swirl the liquid inside and watch as a mini typhoon is formed.

“Do you believe your decision on making him Hand was just?” You lift your gaze to be met with his bright purple eyes. It always seemed intense and vivid in color whenever his attention was on you. As if you were the only person that mattered in the room. And if not at this moment.

You looked ravishing, decorated in his house colors with pops of gold from the jewelry and headwear. You had no shame in exemplifying wealth because he would give you everything willingly. No matter the cost or debt, every piece of gold, and diamond was meant to be yours. He watches as your golden droplet earrings jingle when you shake your head, contemplating your next words. “Because I do not think that was the wisest decision to be made, husband.”

“And, care to explain why?” Like every little piece of his childhood, Aegon looks at every objective like a game. Though he looked like he was trying to resist your hesitancy for his new Hand, he was staring into space at the glorious jewels that make your figure and face pop out more.

You urged, before meeting the King by the tableside where the pitcher lay. “He is a warrior, not a politician,” You set your goblet aside, to look your husband in the eye more closely. “He does not know the ways of the people, especially those who he surrounds himself with. He was born lowborn, making him more naive than aware of tellings.”

Yes, you make great points, he would say if you did not have that adorable scowl on your face. Aegon would admit, he was getting drunk by the minute. And your presence did not help in his regard to be sober. Regardless, he does take account of your calls, more than most that surround himself with. Everyone at the Council is eager to spout their plans and news, it makes him deaf to the ear when they have nothing to contribute when he suggests something. Nevertheless, you at least are supportive of his thoughts. Despite your constructive nature, he appreciates and craves your attention.

Your King hums, drowsily and that was when you knew his mind was somewhere else. You would admit, you too were becoming tipsy with alcohol. After the morning Council meeting, you rather have your head hung outside with ratcatchers at the mess of the Council. You glance at his attire once more and this time, he catches you. He sees you, the way your doe eyes wander up and down his figure. He rarely has a chance to wear dragon armor like this.

“Distracted, are we?” His breath immediately inches away from yours. And the scent of strong alcohol stings. You’re so accustomed to it, that you’re surprised you would still rebuke the scent of it. Apart from that, the look Aegon gives you makes your heart weak. His smile is sluggish but pulls you in like a serpent in water. It’s alluring and hypnotizing, the way his focus wanders in all of you, and the same for him. You can’t help but wonder if the work of the armor was tricked. And you let your desires plunder when you trace his breastplate armor. Of the harsh outlines it’s supposed to represent dragon scales. It’s majestic and divine, fit for a king.

Almost timidly, your husband giggles at your touch. He separates a stray hair from your cheek, allowing leeway more into your personal space. You can’t feel automatically embarrassed if someone were to barge in. Because anyone could, the seamstress, Kingsguard, or worse, his mother.

“Wear that armor more often and perhaps you’ll receive more than indecent staring,” A mischievous grin forms as again another jingle of your golden jewelry. Gods, you’re enticing and coy. Had he mentioned that? More than once.

The first time you were at Court, it was a spur of surprise. Not only had you arrived with Prince Aemond unannounced, but Aegon encouraged it. You would suspect the disapproving faces of the men, especially coming from the King’s Hand and grandsire. How he ploys and plots with every citizen of King’s Landing to do his bidding. To save the Realm, of course, more to have the most influence in the city. You were aware of what he thinks of you. An obedient and dainty princess. The Queen and wife to the King should have no right to speak of politics.

And yet here you were.

“You do not have a seat in this Council,” Queen Regent, Alicent urges, gazing at her second son with slight apprehension. In doubt, she feels a quick quiver of fear the moment Aemond strides past the Council table. When it came to you, Alicent could only muster a poor glance. The one-eyed prince proceeds towards the map of Westeros that stands beside the King. He strides in confidence, abruptly ignoring every piercing stare bestowed on him. Other than him, you reached towards the seat at the opposing side of your King, hand delicately trailing down the handles of the chair.

“Aemond is my closest blood and our strongest sword. I welcome him,” Aegon lay unfazed at the subtle shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. “As for my wife, I think it should be customary for her to be by my side even in Council. As my father has allowed you to do for him, remember mother?” A playful grin, all-knowing of his lightheartedness, and carelessness of what others thought of his decisions. Surely his mother would be the most understanding, bestowing the same position many years ago when King Viserys was dealt ill and immobile. Shouldn’t the Queen beside her King as should they in every instance?

Alicent is silent in her displeasure. There was no reason to refute the King’s wishes and sometimes made you appreciative of Aegon’s power and status. Being King was a risky position however it offered you more freedom and the ability to speak your mind more often than not. Your husband was the cause of this leverage for the most part. You expected the Queen Dowager to give you any kind of sign of comfort except there was none. Only but a forgotten thought and you were dismissed.

It fills you with dismay, a small black hole for where her approval was meant to be. For the last few days, you’d only wished for Alicent’s consoling eyes.

“We should send troops marching to Harrehal, the Riverlands have the largest force.” Aemond waves his hand over where the location of Riverrun is plastered on the wall. It’s curved in cursive lettering, surrounding soft green fields, most notably of their Southern lands, which was an inhabited place of divided houses and discourse. The largest force, it had many issues of compromises and its lordship. “With them, Rhaenyra’s forces would be left vulnerable on land.”

The accordance of hums coaxed the second son with assurance. A sense of pride if you will, knowing how much more skilled and knowable he was than his brother. But the Hand was quick to question his methods.

“And what of the small Houses of Riverrun? The Brackens and Blackwoods have been fighting each other for centuries. They would never work together as one,” Otto points out and it brings more skepticism and worry to the other Councilmen. Alliances with the Southerners were awkward. They do not know when or where to stop the fight. And it has become extremely bothersome at the time of war. The Bracken and Blackwoods were examples of that. They proceeded with the war more for themselves and would kill hundreds of their men if it meant to end their rivalry before the war even began.

“We should negotiate with smaller Houses beyond the River lands then,” Your lips shudder slightly when the immediate eyes turn to you. Even your husband stares at you in astonishment and curiosity the same. Alicent looks at you warily. And Aemond, all too mysterious, holds a neutral look. “Would it not help Ser Criston Cole secure more of the surrounding Houses towards their larger forces? Gaining allies along the way to Riverrun would only add more to our numbers,”

“And in truth, give us a better advantage to overruling Riverrun altogether?” A devilish grin was on Aegon’s face at your suggestion. Your advice seemed promising and seemed risky but it was the most practical. King’s Landing had more advantage on land than the sea or sky, therefore it was evident in their leverage over the smaller Houses close to Riverrun.

You tilt your head in amusement, all while lowering yourself to sit down. Yes, even though you had no experience in politics or war, you listened. You had ears whenever you managed to walk past one of their meetings. It should be frowned upon but you did not care. You wanted to have more say in protecting your family and House. Most things had been provided for you at an early age. You were a princess with a wealthy father, negotiations were your family’s specialty. You learned early on how to enunciate and please people with the way of your words. And here, you simply voiced what you believed was the safest way to Riverrun. Despite all the demeanors, none of the other Councilmen had anything else to say or disprove of your plans.

“Good! Then it’s settled then,” The king rises, as well as everyone else who feels startled at his shifted demeanor. “Then Ser Criston Cole should prepare some men for the long journey ahead of us by dawn!” It was then you felt some sort of pride that would solidify your position at the Council. As long as you hold a strong mind, should your advice become helpful towards the men, you’d hoped they would see your presence as a blessing.

In some midst of it all or perhaps the end, Aemond is quiet. He’s curious and admires you for everything you strive for. Many people would assume he despises you for taking the initiative to aid his king. But he does not believe in that no, you’re a delicate thing and would never be selfish on greed. Merely he can appreciate your ambitious strides from afar. The way you act around the people, the Council, and his mother makes him believe you were born into the role of Queen. You care for your subjects and think of what’s best for them. You do your best to stay by your king’s side even though he lacks the mind for it.

Perhaps maybe, in some cases, he should��ve had you.

The words struck right out of his head just when everyone was dismissed. While the nobleman rushes out of the council room, he delays his leave momentarily to catch a glimpse of you. You define the example of his House’s wealth, always proud to dress in colors of black and crimson red as if it was your second skin. However you do not forget about your own House colors, you embrace it all together with his own and it makes him wonder what kind of beauty like yourself can be persuaded by the likes of his brother. You were quick-witted, amusing, and altogether undeserving of Aegon’s love.

You do not immediately flee the room as his mother or Ser Criston Cole had done. Instead, you slowly rise from your seat and make your way to your husband, eagerly. Aegon sits comfortably in his golden chair, smug with loving eyes at your figure. He could not help but eye at you openly even with his Kingsguard standing beside him.

“Aemond, may we have the room?” He hears his older brother say. It does not take a blind man to know the following events as the one-eyed prince simply tilts his head in your direction. Before storming out of the room and the slam of the doors. His footsteps clank against the cold cobblestone pavement as he makes his way to his room. But all he could think about was your lively laughter as he disappeared from the scene.

The day after Cole’s troops arrived back at King’s Landing, you felt a string of worry crawling down your spine. As you pace across your bedroom, you fiddle with the ends of your loose hair to solace the anxiety you feel in your stomach. The pit was too unbearable as more men would be escorted out towards Rook’s Rest. After Aegon removed Otto Hightower as Hand, Criston Cole became the primary candidate for the position. You voiced your concerns before but Aegon had yet to change his decisions on your advice.

Now rumors have spread that by the time Cole invades Rook’s Rest, Aemond would be by his side to counter whatever attack Rhaenyra plans to defend her councilman. It would risk losing one dragon, the biggest and largest female beast you’d seen. Doubt fills your mind when you try to shake your worries away. You shook your hands feverishly and swatted away the sweat building up against your palms. You must speak to Aemond. You should warn him of the consequences of this act.

You found the prince outside of the castle. Vhagar resides in a shallow space close to the gateways to the city and is attentively monitored for her whereabouts. Very few dragon keepers watch over the powerful beast for her dangerous nature and size. As a cart, full of sheep was being carried by horses, you looked in awe at the amount of necessity the castle must provide for their dragons now. Surely it would impact the people’s living and cost. It worries you how chaotic and unlawful the palace seemed to behave in times of war. Even though you find yourself wanting to question Aemond’s intentions of helping Cole this way.

Your words settle like a soothing wave in his ears. “Prince Aemond,” And when the one-eyed prince spots you, holding the reins of your horse with a steady hand, he’s not afraid to show his approval of your presence. The colors you wear today are regarded as wealth and beauty. The golden linen stretches along the cloth of obsidian, representative of his House, your House. The gown expands upon your collarbone, allowing the silver necklace you have on to become the ire of his attention. It entices him, brings him into your line of view. Clear cut diamonds you had on your earlobes, they jingle at the slightest movement you make, as you make your way towards him with ease.

“Your Grace,” He prompts, politely. He is a plain canvas for you to paint over, to inspect over. You should not be afraid of his presence because he behaves well under yours. The prince regent eyes you down carefully and you’re vaguely reminded of the day before, the two of you entered the Council room.

“How was your ride with Vhagar?” You tenderly incite, head tilting towards his beast. Vhagar sits lazily with her entire body blended into the environment. Her muddy green scales combine with the grassy interior. The dragon pits were deemed too small for her size. And more so claustrophobic for a creature of her caliber, as a champion of many wars and destruction, Vhagar is rather docile for being the largest dragon.

He hums before easily answering. “The morrow dew is not something to be missed during this time. Vhagar could sense it, and the warm breeze is sure to come sooner for summer,” He crossed his arms behind his back as if analyzing your every breath as you walked in irregular patterns, trailing along where his dragon resides. Your attention was not fully on him. No, not that he wouldn’t mind. But it was ignorant on your part to ignore him so easily. “Now save the rest of this nonsense for supper or shall I ask what were your real intentions for coming here? Though I welcome it,”

You catch onto his coarse tone. Aemond dislikes those who do not take him seriously, like his brother. And you are aware of his estranged heart. You give him a look of consideration. It was the look of someone who had the upper hand. You knew he was becoming impatient with your meddling.

“What are your plans with Criston Cole going to Rook’s Rest?” Your figure fully faces him now as you cup your hands together modestly. Surely the prince of the realm should respect the Queen’s uncertainties when he meets with the King’s Hand behind his back. A sliver of dread falls on the blonde prince as you take a step closer. “Consoling with the Hand without the King’s presence is extremely demeaning, my prince. Surely you have a right reason to go behind his back,”

He takes a step forward, as Aemond’s eye moves back and forth from you. “We have a plan,” He is recursive in his thoughts and manners. Yet under your eyes, he feels utterly weak and broken, as if you have put a spell on him. “It is best if the King does not intervene.”

Shaking your head disapprovingly, you fake disappointment. “Then what do you plan to do?” The longer it went on, the more you could feel his blood rising at the way you glanced and teased at his exploits. “As I, the Queen should know.”

“You need not,” The second son grunts, moving away to leave whatever conversation you were trying to muster with him. You intended to snuff out his plans with Criston Cole and expose them to your King's husband. Your King husband. What would he know of battles and formation? He knew better strategy than him yet you still side with Aegon with his pathetic whims on the townsfolk.

Unsatisfied, you shot a disapproving grin. “I know you intend on attacking Rook’s Rest as a surprise, why else would you go with Cole?” You heard his mudded footsteps stop momentarily as you continued. “My question to it is, what are you trying to prove out of this act of disloyalty?” It flicks a trigger in him. A quick flash of anger, jealousy, and disgust, all coiled into one hole that explodes.

“I intend to prove I am the better fit as heir,” His tone is sharp and alert as he stomps back to you with a violent gaze. His one good remaining eye, unharmed and uncut, shoots daggers at your stern face. A small part of you thinks he is handsome. The way you can rile him within seconds gives you a sense of joy and satisfaction that quenches whatever annoyance you had of him before.

“There is no denying that,” Your lips agape still at how much you were able to pry out of Aemond. However, there was one detail you needed to remind him of. “But you fail to recognize that Aegon still has an heir, Maegor.” With that, you close your mouth to form a thin line as you stand more confidently against the prince’s deadly stare. “And as Queen, I hope you do not try to cross your King’s benevolent trust with your anger.”

It was his turn to remain there motionless. The one-eyed prince repeats your words over and over again. He contemplates them long and hard, glaring at the ground, at where you stood, close to his breath and space. But all of his emotional desires could be examples of an ill temper. You twist and turn his head like a puppeteer to a helpless marionette. And his strings had long sprung and trapped him in an immobile place.

He leaves without a word.

The battle was over. But the war continued. You became increasingly paranoid as no word from Cole’s army of Aegon’s wellbeing. You heard unreliable news. This and that but you wanted the real thing. The truth from a real member who had witnessed the battle at Rook’s Rest. As you twist the ring on your finger, you glance towards the rising crowd in the city. There were so many citizens. They succeeded and followed like colonies of ants.

Your anguish was reassured when the sight of the King’s army appeared. Shouts and screams returned you from your thoughts as hundreds of men walked and rode on horseback. Your lively expression did not last long, only to falter when meant with their solemn faces. What a grim battle it must’ve been.

“All hail King Aegon! Who went against and slain the traitor, Rhaenys, and her dragon, Meleys!” Cole exclaims in a harsh and undeserving undertone. From where you stood, on the high mounts of the castle, you saw the horrors of what they’ve done to the traitors. A severed head of the Red Queen, without her rider. Her flesh was torn and burnt. Charred from the attacks of another dragon, you did not believe Aegon had done so. You had doubts and Criston’s indifferent frown proved your intuition.

Alicent was by the patio where you spied on the citizens of King’s Landing. She observes and feels a familiar dread from the aftermath she has yet to witness for herself. You have taken the position of Queen and in turn, must understand the order of things. Simply because she had a feeling that things did not seem as they were predicted by the townsfolk.

When the wooden carriage of your husband is delivered to your bed chambers, everyone storms aside for the guards to set it on the floor. You arrived shortly after, nails and teeth clenched in fear as your mother-in-law appeared beside you with the same fixation. And somewhere else, your brother-in-law, Aemond carefully watches your scared position. The lid lifts and the soldiers hold onto the emergency bed that protects their King. In a swift motion, they lift and allow the body to hover over your shared bed.

In patience and precision, Maester Orywle walks into the chambers with several other maesters under his wing to begin a procedure and analysis of his injured body. The room is quickly transformed into a medical room, with various tools and gadgets displayed for the maesters disposal. You had little clue what they were doing, worried about your husband’s awakened state.

“How is he?” You stumbled by the foot of the bed, where the other maesters scurry to give off Maester Orwyle a scalpel. Gods, the wounds he had mustered. You felt terrified and rightfully so. This could be the last time you see your husband, alive and breathing. “Is he awake?”

“I’m not sure, Your Grace,” Maester Orwlye replies with adequate patience. Knowing the panic and hysteria you must feel for your king, your husband, he pities in your state. You should not deserve such sorrow. “But I must be given time to work on his fatal wounds. Whether he lives or not will be confirmed afterward.” His unflinching face softens when glances at one of Aegon’s personal Kingsguard to escort you outside. The knight nods and walks forward to excuse himself before coming forward.

“My apologies, Your Grace,”

Yet you did not want to leave. Your palms felt hot and guilt-ridden with the idea of leaving Aegon alone to suffer. You urge, taking a step forward for only Maester Orwyle to hear. “How long can you be sure he will survive?” It’s so hushed with desperation in your voice. But the maester could only respond with a sorrowful shake. It breaks your heart wholly, to know not even the best medical professionals had a clear understanding or answer to their King’s expectancy.

As you feel pathetic tears, ready to fall, the Queen Regent rushes to take hold of your forearm. She drags your pitiful self out of the chambers. The bodies that remained stepped aside for you and Alicent to leave swiftly. A quick flash of silver and black vanishes from your peripherals, but you cannot process anything that is happening anymore.

The syllables of your name ring against your ears as the Queen Regent tries to bring you back to her. “My dear, please focus on me.” Delicate fingers drape a hold of your jaw, firmly. They smooth over the apples of your cheeks, smoothly and soothingly like a gesture a mother would do for their children. “You need to stand strong for Aegon and yourself. Your children, think of Jaehaera and Meagor! Pray to the gods for his health.”

With that, you took a deep breath.

Aemond was avoidant to the whole ordeal. No one besides Criston Cole was there when he found his brother’s scorched body. Alongside his dragon, Sunfrye, it looked as though he was fighting for his last breath. Aemond would’ve taken that chance to send him to eternal sleep if not for Cole’s arrival. A pity for him.

As he watches the scene before him, your grief-stricken features are what caused the most pain. You resembled a tragic painting, so angelic it’s saddening to see you this way. Aemond could’ve done it. He could have killed his brother and taken the glory of killing Meleys. Despite that, he did not and stormed from the scene. Now left in the shadows of what’s to come, he numbly waits for the maester’s work to be done with. The Council meeting will begin shortly. After Aegon’s procedure and Maester Orywle, official confirmation of whether he would live or not would determine whether he would become the true heir or not.

This was what he wanted, yes?

Except, everything was bleak now. All the colors he witnessed were suddenly wiped; now all he saw was black and white. Your tragic face comes into mind, along with your fragile sniffles and tears. Gods, he wanted to comfort your sweet little heart. Yet knowing he was the cause of it, made Aemond strangely more devoted to you. If Aegon does not survive, you are bound to be a widow. Your youngest child, Meagor was still but a babe, unfit and too young to understand what an heir was. Therefore he would be the rightful option if all else failed. He would rule in the King’s stead.

That was what the one-eyed prince considered when he stepped through the doors to begin the Council. The King’s chair was empty as expected, looking lonely and authoritative without its ruler. In the same sense, on the opposite side, you sat soberly with nothing but a blank look. You wore cool-toned colors this morning. It reflected much of what you must be feeling.

Grief, misery, and blame. Even in this poor state, he still considers you attractive and alluring. It’s a shame you looked dejected and lifeless despite all your energy and might to stay awake. Your hair was even braided in a simpler style. Knowing you always had a knack for extraverted taste, Aemond takes in your appearance profoundly. Because perhaps, everyone in the Council can understand the emphasis on the wife of the King. As they eagerly await Maester Orwyle’s results, they all gaze at your seat for any kind of solace.

He takes the chair to your left and sits. While the Grand Maester begins to explain Aegon’s conditions. The longer he spewed, the more you felt your heavy heart fall deeper into your chest. How would the realm react now? Their king suddenly struck and immobile to be by their side. He had defeated Rhaenys in battle however now suffered in a long-inducing coma just as his father did. Who would rule in his absence? It only made sense in your mind but you did not make it become a reality.

“But he is very much alive, Your Grace,” Maester Orywle gives an earnest smile to the Queen Mother as she exhales with the utmost relief. “Though he will need time to recover, I do not think he will ever be the same.”

An unfavorable grunt from Aemond brings attention from you and Cole. “So he is unable to leave his chambers.”

“I’m afraid not,”

“Then we must choose who is to rule in his stead,” Lord Wylde speaks of the obvious, sparing everyone a momentary glance. He clears his throat and rubs his beard, nervously.

“If anyone should come in Aegon’s stead, it is his wife,” Alicent jabs, shooting quick assertiveness when she presses her crossed palms onto the table. Your name leaves her lips as a clear sign of hope. “She was the closest companion to the King and has been since this war started. It is only right for her to continue her husband’s intentions and plans.”

“And what plans did the King have?” A pompous statement coming from her second son, which surprised you as well. Aemond was known for his restrained nature however it seems as days passed, he was slowly losing his grip on his sanity. “I am the closest heir the King has. Would it not be I who rules in his stead?” In the turn of the tides, the room is divided upon their suggestions. You can tell by the wary looks the lords hold with each other. However, you have been grateful for Alicent’s support regardless of the cold shoulder she has given you previously.

“You are not fit, Prince Aemond,” Your fingers slide and take hold of the marble ball in front of you. The weight of the object pleasantly gives you a boost of poise to look him in his one good remaining eye. “The King’s line is still secured for my son, Meagor will become the next heir. But he is young so for the time being, I am naturally the next in line to come to his stead. As his wife and Queen, I should have a say as well.”

It’s what Aegon would’ve wanted.

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

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Roommate Sanemi x AFAB Reader

Disclaimer: the characters and events of this story are fictional.

Warnings: Listening to someone else have sex, protected sex, male masturbation using a condom, tipsy making out, making out in a car, hand job, road head, making out in an elevator, dirty talk, hickeys, breast sucking, Sanemi has a tongue piercing, cunnilingus with a tongue piercing, blow jobs, finger fucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple sex positions, multiple creampies, praising, spanking, biting, spitting, spit as lube, cum as lube

A/N: My confession is that I came up with this idea mid-April and it's taken me this long to get it all out. Given the fact that this is easily my longest fic, I hope you can forgive me for such a long wait. Also I apologize but this isn’t proof-read because my brain simply cannot handle proof reading a fic this long so please forgive me for any small errors that may pop up :’)

Word Count: 26.3k

Your junior year of college you decided to switch from dorm life to off-campus apartments. You were sick of having a twin XL bed, an unbearable roommate, and no personal space. As luck would have it, you found the perfect two-bedroom apartment that was just out of your budget. Considering it was two bedrooms, it only made sense to put out a notice looking for a roommate. Especially when it would cut the cost of living since you’d split the rent with them. Naturally, it made the situation even better because you’d be saving money. After several responses and a couple meet ups, you ended up encountering a man double majoring in Math and Teaching. Rough and mean looking on the outside but honestly a sweetheart, Sanemi Shinazugawa was the perfect fit for a multitude of reasons. For one, it was nerve wracking living alone as a young woman. Having a tall, buff, scar covered man as your roommate really deterred most creeps.

The other main reason, he was a great cook. Most mornings you’d wake up to coffee brewing and food on the counter for the both of you. He was pleasant, respectful, cleaned up after himself, and was pretty easy to hold a conversation with. He was also a bit of a softie, telling you about his mom and siblings and how he happened to be the oldest of seven. It made sense why he seemed to be such a patient man, and why he wanted to be a teacher. Most nights you’d share the living room to study, occasionally eat dinner together, or share a few drinks. Your friend groups remained separate, which meant the few times you weren’t clogged up with school work, you’d go partying at different places and somehow always end up stumbling home at the same time. You enjoyed those drunken giggles as you raced for the bathroom before heading off to bed. You also looked forward to the conversations the morning after, when you would tell him all about the things that happened, including gossip about people he didn’t even know.

Moments like that really tugged at your heart. It was nearly impossible for you to not gain feelings for the man. He was handsome, intimidating but kind when you got to know him and, well, he really was a great cook. You haven’t acted on your feelings, honestly, you didn’t think you ever would. You didn’t want to risk the good thing you had going, finding a new roommate would be hell if everything went south. Plus you would have to pay rent you couldn’t afford until you could put someone else in his place. None of it was ideal so, you kept quiet, watching him from a short distance and fantasizing what it would be like if he threw you up on the counter and fucked you stupid. Yeah, you were way too deep now. It didn’t help that Sanemi was confident and comfortable in his body, often walking around the small place shirtless. He even liked to wear baggy gray sweats that would hang low on his hips while he cooked. Something you found extremely cliché but still hot. Even when he went out, he only had a few buttons done, his scarred chest exposed for everyone to see.

Speaking of going out, tonight would have been a great night for it, but after midterms, you were too exhausted to celebrate. Your friends agreed to go out tomorrow night instead, so now you are spending your Friday night in bed with a new tv show on your laptop and a glass of white wine. Sanemi had told you he was going out, so don’t be alarmed if the door to the apartment opens in the middle of the night. You let your mind wander a few times, thinking about the girls that were likely throwing themselves at him. You weren’t used to feeling FOMO, but you were certainly feeling it now. Just the thought alone of some girl having the confidence to talk to him made your skin crawl. But at the same time, you figured it was utterly inevitable, he wasn’t yours to begin with so you had no right to feel envious. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but wish you had pulled yourself together and asked to tag along. But that didn’t feel right either… you felt like that was involving yourself in his life way too much. You were just roommates.

“Just roommates…” you mumbled to yourself before taking a sip of your wine, enjoying the slightly bitter taste before swallowing. You had done everything imaginable while having the place to yourself. You took your shower with no time limit, did a face mask and skin routine, and even did your nails. You had also taken the time to enjoy yourself in ways you typically had to mute when he was home. Needless to say, despite your unwanted envious thoughts, you were rather relaxed. Now, however, it was nearly three in the morning and Sanemi still wasn’t home. I should just go to bed. But there are only a couple sips left in the bottle… and only ten minutes left in this episode… you sighed, reaching over to your nightstand to pour the rest of the wine bottle’s contents into your cup. You settled back against your numerous pillows, refocusing your attention on your laptop screen. The scene was unfolding before you but your mind was wandering to other places. He’s been out for a long time… maybe I should text him…

You shook your head, you were in no position to be questioning his whereabouts. You were thankful your phone was sitting on your nightstand, giving you time to think and talk yourself out of any stupid texts you may have sent. You zeroed in again, this time actually holding on to the words the actors were speaking. You tilted back, downing the last bit of your glass before successfully finishing the bottle. You felt it now, your cheeks had been steadily warm over the course of the last few hours. You had taken forever to finish the bottle so your buzz never really went further, leaving you in a calm state until it began to wear off. Which is when you would pour another glass and try to forget about any unwanted thoughts. As the episode’s credits began to roll, you moved to grab the empty bottle on your nightstand and bring it out to the kitchen. As you moved to stand, you heard the familiar jingle of keys slotting into the front door.

About time, I was getting worried. You would have to wait for Sanemi to get himself situated and in his bedroom before bringing the empty bottle out, finding it just a bit embarrassing that you spent your Friday night alone in bed. You set the glass on your nightstand beside the bottle, getting up to stretch your limbs and find something more comfortable to wear to bed. Your current outfit was too warm for the wine buzz you had going on. Finally, after a moment of struggle, the front door opened. He must have had a bit too much to drink. Or so you assumed, busying yourself in your dresser as you searched for a particular matching tank top and shorts. It wasn’t until you heard a lot of fumbling that you refocused your attention on whatever your drunk roommate was doing in the living room. What the fuck is going on?

You questioned if you should go out there and see if he was alright, pausing your rummaging to really listen in. It wasn’t until the commotion grew closer to your door that you realized two very important things. The first thing was… he wasn’t alone. The second is… It was a girl. No fucking way… Your face felt as if someone had lit it on fire, the shock mixing with your buzz was enough to make you feel like you needed a cold shower. Clothes forgotten, you moved over to your door, pressing your ear against it to hear better. The fumbling you had heard seemed to be because she couldn’t keep his hands off of him. I can’t say I blame her… No real words were being spoken, rather it seemed like you were listening in on an intense make-out session paired with clothes being discarded in the hallway. Must be nice, what a lucky bitch.

You moved away from the door, guilt prickling the back of your mind as you tried to go back to your original task. I’ll change and put earbuds in… the wine bottle can wait till morning to be discarded. You jumped slightly as Sanemi’s room door flew open. They’re going to kill each other… or worse damage the damn apartment. My security deposit… you audibly whined at the thought, not feeling quite accomplished as you found the clothes you had been looking for. You began to strip, shamelessly listening in on whatever activity was happening beyond your bedroom wall. From the muffled sounds, you assumed they were making out on his bed. You felt relief in the lighter clothing, not as suffocated by your body heat. However, it did nothing to stop the tingling arousal building in your gut. You swallowed, discarding the other clothing in your hamper as you moved to clear off your bed.

Something was keeping you from putting in your earbuds. The logical part of your brain was screaming to give Sanemi and the girl some privacy. The horny part of your brain was telling you to listen, see just how good he was in bed. How filthy… despite scolding yourself, you threw yourself down on your bed without your earbuds in. Nothing but silence rang in your ears, saved for the muffled noises next door. With nothing else to distract you, you focused on every noise coming from Sanemi’s bedroom. It seemed like an eternity but you finally heard the girl begin to moan. “You’re so good at that…fuck…” she drawled, when Sanemi didn’t respond, you assumed it was because his head was between her legs. Just rub it in a little more… you rolled your eyes, suddenly annoyed that you were even listening in the first place.

The girl’s moans grew in tempo, muffled suddenly, likely by a hand over her mouth. You could tell by the sound of them that they weren’t fake nor were they being exaggerated. Christ he’s really making her moan like that… you felt a steady ache growing between your legs, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything about it. I refuse to stoop that low… you’d never let yourself live it down if you got off to your roommate fucking someone else. “S-shit!” you flinched as she came, your suspicions of Sanemi’s head being between her legs was proven correct a moment later. “Fucking liked that, huh?” she mumbled a response you couldn’t hear, her voice muffled as they seemed to begin making out again. You eyed your earbuds, you knew what was coming next and quite frankly you weren’t sure if you would survive hearing it.

There was a few minutes of unintelligible noises, you couldn’t quite tell what the hell was going on until you heard a slap. That slap was followed by another, then another, until it fell into a steady rhythm. God damn. You nearly choked on your own spit as she began moaning again. You continued to listen, cheeks burning red hot when you heard Sanemi begin to make noises too. You listened, hands clenching your comforter as you listened to the sounds they made. This is so wrong! You screamed at yourself, still entranced by every noise the two of them made. At the rate he was going, it sounded as if he’d break his damn bed. Her moans were wild and unrestrained until they suddenly grew muffled. “I told you I have a roommate, wake her up and I’ll kick you out before you can finish” Sanemi’s words held deadly consequences, enough to make you shiver at the very thought of him speaking to you like that.

Her moans remained muffled, it seems she was too far gone to even comprehend what Sanemi was saying to her. So you continued to lay there in agonizing anticipation, counting down the seconds until they finished and she either went to bed or went home. The sound of skin slapping skin only grew in tempo, much to your dismay. It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it? You groaned, rolling onto your stomach as the sounds of sex filled your apartment. For what it was worth, it was probably ten minutes before you heard Sanemi’s thrusts get sloppy. I figured he’d have some stamina. You snort softly, feeling a little desensitized to the whole situation. “Fuck… fuck…” you nearly squealed at his pants, he sounded completely fucked out. Hot. You listened more intently, his hand must have slipped from her face because she was moaning loudly once more. “C’mon…fucking cum… please…” she sounded desperate.

Can’t say I blame her. You sighed, your mind painting the lewd picture for you. The throb between your legs was still present but you were refusing to do anything about it. “Fuck…you’re so fucking tight.” You flinched a bit, that comment seemed so unusual when you weren’t horny out of your mind. “Yeah? Makes you fucking wanna cum, huh?” You weren’t sure why, but the commentary was making you laugh a bit. I must be losing my mind, or I’m sleep deprived. You concluded as Sanemi’s sudden moan sent a shiver through your body. “Fuck…fuck I’m close.” He grounded out, your body feeling tingly as you pushed yourself upwards to listen better. “Yeah? Come then, please oh my fuck…” she drawled, loud and breathless. They sounded like they were running a marathon. You’re going to wake the whole building at this point.

“Fuck… fuck y/n…” you froze, sitting straight up in bed with wide eyes. It took your brain a second to catch up, realizing that all noise in the apartment had come to a screeching halt. “Y/n… who the fuck is y/n?” The girl practically shrieked. You couldn’t even think straight, the silence making your ears ring as their “moment” was clearly ruined. Sanemi hadn’t said a single word, yet the girl screeched again. “Don’t tell me that’s your girlfriend? Oh my fucking god are you cheating?” She continued to scream until Sanemi’s hand came up and covered her mouth. Whatever he said was too quiet for you to hear, but the girl helped you out. “Your roommate? Your fucking roommate? You’re fucking me while thinking about your roommate?” She sounded absolutely hysterical, you couldn’t say you blamed her though.

“It was an accident!” He sounded defensive, which you also couldn’t blame him for. You’d be mortified if you moaned the wrong name… but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that it had been your name. “Bull shit! This is so fucking humiliating!” You could hear shuffling, then his door opening. “Don’t ever fucking talk to me again, oh my fucking god.” She sounded livid, the ruffling sound told you she was picking up her clothes that had been scattered. “I’m sorry…” he sounded a bit defeated, likely because he hadn’t gotten the chance to finish. “What fucking ever dude! Go blow your load in your roommate since that’s clearly what you fucking wanted!” You cringed as the bathroom door slammed shut, followed by a string of curses under Sanemi’s breath. That's awkward… yet you couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face.

You flopped back on your bed, struggling not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. He was thinking about me? While fucking her? I don’t know if I should be smug or offended. You were leaning more towards being smug. “Hey…” the bathroom door opened and Sanemi spoke again, you stopped smiling and listened. “Hey nothing, dickhead. Way to kill my fucking buzz and my orgasm. If you want to fuck your roommate so bad, grow a pair and fucking do it.” She sounded livid still, completely embarrassed that she had been used as a replacement. “I told you to keep it fucking down!” His voice was a whisper yell, you could practically hear her eye roll as she spoke again. “Fuck off.” Followed by her storming out of the apartment and slamming the door so hard the place rattled. “Fuck.” Sanemi sounded utterly defeated.

Well… that was more than enough entertainment for tonight. You sighed, rolling onto your side, sleep tugging at your mind. You’d sleep peacefully knowing what you did now. You could only imagine how the conversation would go in the morning. Sanemi, on the other hand, was fuming at his own stupidity. “Way to go dumbass.” First girl he’d ever brought back to his “new place” and he royally fucked it up. He glanced down at himself, shame flooding his cheeks. He was still hard, the condom slick with the woman’s arousal. “Fuck.” He hissed again, moving to pick up the rest of his clothing before reentering his bedroom. There was no way he was going to sleep before dealing with the issue at hand. So, detested and embarrassed, he sat on the edge of his bed and worked himself with his own hand, hissing as he spilled into the condom. “What a fucking loser you are, Sanemi.” He spoke to himself, peeling the protection off and tossing it in the trash can beside his night table.

The next morning you woke up with a dull headache. “Ouch.” You mumbled, making eye contact with the empty wine bottle on your bedside table. Within seconds, the memories of the night flooded your brain, a dopey grin tugging at your face as you rolled out of bed. You grabbed the wine bottle, pushing your room door open and slinking down the hallway towards the kitchen. It took you a second to realize Sanemi was already awake. “Oh.” you laughed a bit, watching as his head whipped around to look at you. “I didn’t expect to see you home.” You tease as you place the empty wine bottle on the counter. “Why is that?” You could tell he was hesitant, he didn’t know if you had heard anything that had transpired only a few hours prior. You shrug, eyeing his bare torso for a moment before opening the cabinet to find the pain relievers. “You were still out by the time I went to bed.”

You were focused on getting a glass of water, the pill bottle in your hand. You didn’t see the way his eyes trailed over your body, his mouth feeling dry as he looked at you. “Yeah, I got in pretty late.” Sanemi murmured softly, focusing his eyes away from you to look at the coffee he was brewing. You hummed, shaking two pills into your hand. “Seems you had fun during your night home.” He teased you, eyeing the empty wine bottle. “Oh yeah, a blast.” you chuckled, tone sarcastic as you took the pain relievers for your headache. “I’m shocked you didn’t bring anyone home.” You suppressed a smirk, placing your cup in the sink as you turned to face him. “You’re such a pervert.” He laughed, hoping it hid the awkward tension creeping into his shoulders. “Me? A pervert? You wound me.” You faked a look of hurt, unable to keep up with it and cracking only a second later. “Yeah, you.” He countered back.

“Since you’re dancing around the question, I’m gonna assume you got lucky.” You watched his ears turn a shade of red, eyes immediately darting from yours. “Oh? What’s that?” You snort, watching him toy with his coffee mug. “I wouldn't say I got lucky.” You raised an eyebrow, “bad experience?” You tried to sound sympathetic, as if you didn’t hear the whole thing go south. Sanemi nodded, pulling the carafe from the machine and dumping a generous amount of the black liquid in his cup. “Horrible.” Was all he said, moving to the fridge to grab cream. “Was she not good? Or was it something else?” You continued to pry, wondering how far you could push it until he caught onto you. “Eh, we just didn’t have chemistry.” He lied through his teeth, it seemed he wasn’t interested in learning if you knew or not. “That blows” was all you could come up with, turning to grab a mug out of the cabinet yourself.

“You know, my friends and I were going to go out tonight to celebrate midterms being over. You could always join, maybe find someone else to suit your needs.” You were being genuine, eyes focusing on the coffee you were pouring. Sanemi looked at you, glancing you over with a small sigh. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think that will help.” You merely shrugged, “if you change your mind you can let me know. I mean it’s only seven in the morning.” You chuckle, taking a seat at the small dining table with him. You both sat in silence for a bit, but you could tell there was something he wanted to ask. You knew what was clawing at the back of his mind but you chose to wait and see if he’d ask it first. “You’re telling me you didn’t hear us?” He nearly choked out, the grip on his coffee cup was nearly enough to shatter it. “Hear you?” You questioned softly, looking at him from over your coffee mug.

“Yeah, I brought her back here… it didn’t end well and she wasn’t exactly quiet about it.” You were going to deny it but the vulnerability in his eyes had your shoulders sagging. “Fine, I didn’t want to make it awkward for you, but yeah I heard her leave. The apartment door slamming shut, I mean.” It was partially the truth, but you didn’t think you could ever let him know you heard him moan your name instead of hers. When he didn’t speak, you continued. “I kinda just figured it was your drunk ass stumbling home.” You chuckled softly, hoping to ease the tension that had been steadily growing. “And you didn’t come and check on me? How rude.” There he was, laughing softly and being a smart ass. Crisis averted for the time being it seems. “Eh I figured if you could make it into the apartment, you’d be able to get to your bed.” You laugh with him, setting your mug down. “My offer still stands, Sanemi. So just let me know.”

You get up from the table, picking up your mug and heading to the kitchen. “I’ll think about it.” He mumbled softly, eyes glued to the expanse of skin you were showing. The shorts you were wearing could be classified as underwear, he felt his ears grow hot when he zeroed in on your ass peeking out from the bottom of them. You whirled around, beaming at him. He seemed a bit surprised, lips parting slightly as you smiled at him. “No pressure, but I’d love it if you came out with us.” You surprised yourself with how sincere you sounded, not that you weren’t serious about him joining you. Sanemi just nodded, still awestruck by your reaction. You turned and left, a smile plastered to your face as you returned to your bedroom. Sanemi sat at the table, mildly shocked that he had agreed to even think about it. But the way you looked at him… it had absolutely dumbfounded him into saying whatever would make you happy. “Fuck…” he muttered softly, hand coming up to rub his face.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world. He thought quietly, the only issue with going out with you and your friends was the fact that you’d probably try and set him up with one of them. I’m not interested in any of her friends, I’m interested in her. He groaned, using one hand to rub his forehead. He couldn’t say no to you now, not when you smiled at him like that, not when you told him you’d love for him to join you. Suck it up, Sanemi. He grumbled to himself, there was no way he was going to disappoint you. Alone at the table, his mind wandered back to the events from a few hours ago. The girl he had brought home looked like you to an extent. Same hair color, same length, similar body type. He was cringing at his drunken, horny decision, he should have just left her alone. Especially when all he could think about was you, even when he was fucking her, all he was thinking about was you.

Sanemi huffed, staring at the cloudy amber liquid in his cup. He was typically a black coffee guy, but you bought fancy creamers that he couldn’t resist. Now he took his coffee with a healthy amount of cream. Fuck I can’t even look at my coffee without thinking about her. He held in a laugh, amazed by how quickly you were taking over his mind. It’s not like it was the first time either, hell he wasn’t even sure when he started harboring feelings for you. Maybe it was at some point during one of the rainy weekends, the ones where you two would spend hours in the living room and order some food. Or maybe it was during one of your drunken races to the bathroom, laughing like kids doing something they shouldn’t. Perhaps it was the first time he saw you in a cocktail dress to go out with your friends, or the way you tucked your hair away when you needed to focus. Or, maybe, just maybe, he started falling for you the moment he met you. How fucking cheesy. But it was the honest truth.

Sanemi sighed, it was too early in the morning to let you consume his every waking thought. Part of him figured he should just take a shower and go to bed again, it was Saturday after all. But the other part of him knew you’d still consume his thoughts, even his dreams if he let you. Eventually, he finished his cup and made his way to the bathroom. He needed to scrub her off of him, forget about the terrible interaction and maybe take her advice… grow a pair and act upon how he feels about you. Tonight may be the night to do it. He thought to himself, turning on the water and letting it fog up the glass. He couldn’t keep dancing around his feelings for you, especially since they were far more than just lusting after you. He wanted you to share his bed, fuck the separate rooms. He could turn your room into an office or something, anything to keep you by his side. You’re practically fucking love sick at this point.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. A few hours before you were set to leave and meet up with your friends, Sanemi let you know that he would be joining you. Now, you sat in front of the mirror on your dresser and did your makeup, the dress you wanted to wear laid on your bed. It was brand new, never worn except the time you tried it on in store. It was a simple black cocktail dress that ended at your mid-thigh. It was pretty typical for going out but you really felt no need to stick out, so simple was usually your go-to. You finished applying mascara and smiled at your work. Again, you were also going out to get drunk so the less makeup you put on meant the less you’d have to clean up at the end of the night. “Eyeliner, mascara, a little bit of concealer and… oh!” You reached for your lip stain, applying a generous coat to your lips before setting it down. While it dried, you went and pulled your heels from your closet and set them by the foot of your bed.

You undressed, slipping into your dress and then sliding on your heels. Once completed, you returned to your dresser and dabbed your lips with a tissue, reaching for a gloss to apply on top. “This is a lot of effort for something that won’t even last me an hour” you chuckled as you twisted the top back on the tube of lip gloss, placing it on your dresser and reaching for your phone. Your screen lit up with messages from your group chat, it seemed everyone was already on their way to the club you had decided on. You sent a message letting them know that you and Sanemi would be there probably twenty minutes after them. After a moment a new chat popped up, causing you to laugh out loud. “So if you aren’t here in twenty, you’re getting laid. Gotcha.” You sent back the eye roll emoji before clicking your phone off and shoving it in your purse. “Sanemi? You ready?” You pushed your room door, peeking down the hall to see he was already sitting at the kitchen table.

“Been ready for twenty…minutes…” he trailed off when you made your way down the hall, the teasing smirk on his face had shifted to one of mild shock. “What? Do I have something in my hair?” You laughed softly, twirling around as if you were pretending to look for something you couldn’t see. “No! No…I uhm…” he stood, hand going to the back of his neck. “No you, you look really good.” The tips of his ears were turning pink, a smirk tugging at your own lips at the sight. “Thank you, you clean up pretty good yourself.” You were a bit shameless as your eyes trialed over him. Sanemi had gone with his typical look. A short sleeve button up, this time made it a silky black material, the top buttons undone to expose his scared chest. He paid it with a pair of black slacks, a monochrome look that contrasted well with his partially slicked back white hair. “Thanks…” he muttered softly, ears turning from pink to red.

You smile, not wanting to make things awkward for him before you even leave the apartment. “Do you want me to drive?” You were reaching for your keys, jumping slightly when Sanemi’s hand stopped you. “Absolutely not, I’ll drive.” He reached for his own car keys instead, chuckling as you looked confused. “When you’re out with me, you don’t have to worry about anything.” He opened the door for you, “unless you wanna drive.” You smiled as he added that on, shaking your head. “No, I don’t mind if you drive, I appreciate it.” You walked past him and into the hall, trying to hide the fact that you were excited for him to drive you both. You watched him lock the door before heading for the elevator, it was silent until you got to the car, but it was comfortable silence. “Ladies first.” He chuckled softly, pulling the passenger side door open for you. “Oh, why thank you.” You laughed, getting in and smiling as he shut the door for you. What a gentleman. You smiled at the thought.

“Alright so…” he spoke as he climbed in the drivers side, turning the key so the engine purred with life. “You’ll have to give me directions on how to get there.” He glanced over at you, eyes trailing to your exposed legs before reaching for the gear shift. “Yeah no problem.” You smiled “when we get out of the garage you’ll take a left. Then you’ll get on the highway heading north and I’ll just tell you what exit to take from there.” Sanemi nodded, pulling the car into reverse and backing out of his space. “Sounds good to me.” Music was playing softly from his radio, just enough to fill the car with ambience. “It’ll just be the two of us, three of my friends and then I think one of their boyfriends is also joining. But to be fair, after thirty minutes everyone kinda scatters on the dance floor.” You chuckle a bit. “Usually they drag me with them to find guys to dance with… but since I have you…” you shot him a look, letting those words hang in the air for a moment “I don’t have to worry about them dragging me anywhere.” You smiled, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink.

“That’s a relief.” He muttered softly, a smile tugging at his lips while his eyes remained focused on the road. “I won’t be drinking all that much either.” He spoke softly “Since I’m carrying precious cargo, I’ll probably only have a beer or two. My tolerance is pretty high and I nearly got shit faced last night so… I’ll take it easy.” Sanemi chuckled softly, one hand resting on the wheel while the other relaxed against the center console. “Precious cargo, huh? Me? I’m flattered.” You relaxed into the seat, turning to look at Sanemi with a small laugh. “Yeah, you.” He didn’t seem flustered to say that, the smirk on his face making you blush. Your eyes lingered for a moment, watching his tongue dart out to lick his lips. That’s when you noticed something reflective. “Hold the fuck on… is that…” Sanemi glanced over at you, chuckling. “A tongue piercing? You just noticed it? I’ve had it since I moved in with you.” You looked completely flabbergasted, your whole body turning to look at him.

“No fucking way! Sanemi Shinazugawa you’re lying.” You folded your arms, laughing at the absurdity of it, hoping it hid how excited it made you. Sanemi laughed now, wholeheartedly as he took the exit to get on the highway. “I’m not lying! I got it when I turned nineteen and I’m twenty one now. We’ve been living together for three months and you’ve never noticed I had a tongue piercing?” You were absolutely floored by this revelation. “Never! Then again I’m not usually observing your mouth.” It came out more cheeky than sarcastic, which in turn caused your face to turn warm. “Oh?” His voice seemed to drop an octave. “So you’re observing other parts of me, Hmm?” He was smirking now, eyes glued to the road while you stared at him open mouthed. “Oh you wish!” You laughed, settling back into the seat normally with your arms still crossed. “Sure I do.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, his fingers drummed along to the beat of the music coming from his radio.

A comfortable silence fell over the car, the club itself was only a twenty minute drive so it wasn’t long before Sanemi was pulling into the already crowded parking lot. “How come I’ve never heard of this place?” Sanemi’s eyes were wide as he observed the people entering the building. “It’s pretty new.” You comment softly, texting your friends that you had arrived and would be inside in a few minutes. “That so?” He shut the car off, turning to look at you. “Yeah, which is a good thing because that means it’s all new shit.” You chuckled, you could recall a few bars and clubs you had gone to in the past that were… questionable to say the least. “I suppose you’re right.” He laughs softly, opening the door to get out. You follow suit, stepping into the cool evening with a sigh of relief. The world around you seemed to buzz with excitement, the pounding music could be heard from the parking lot. As you rounded the car, you noticed Sanemi seemed just a bit overwhelmed.

“Is this your first time at a club?” You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Sorta? I’m used to bars honestly. I’ve only been to a club like two or three times and they definitely weren’t this… busy.” Seeing the opportunity, you moved forward and hooked your arm with his. “Well then, we’ll just have to make sure you stick close to me, yeah?” Sanemi’s brain short circuited for a moment, nodded as he let you lead him towards the building. He wasn’t quite sure what had rendered him speechless, the words you had spoken, the way you smiled at him, or maybe it was the fact that you were touching him. Better yet, it was likely all of the above. His eyes were glued to you as you walked with him, the angle giving him a perfect view of the swell of your chest. He swallowed, even though his shirt was unbuttoned he still felt suffocated. Sanemi was pulled from his thoughts as you happily waved to your friends. “We figured we’d wait for you since it’s pretty crazy already!”

Sanemi barely listened, smiling and saying hello when you introduced him. It didn’t really matter to him anymore, not when you were so close to him. All he could think about was you. The feeling of your arm on his, the smell of your perfume, how good you looked. How was he supposed to do anything else when you had him so tightly wrapped around your finger. The thought nearly scared him. He was quiet as you all walked to get in line, his eyes remained glued to you as you chatted excitedly with your three friends and whoever’s boyfriend. You had told him, but he already forgot. “Sanemi?” You glanced up at him, watching as he blinked back into reality. “Huh? Were you talking to me?” You chuckled, noticing your friends smirk as they turned to move up in line. “No, but you were spacing out really bad. Do you get nervous in crowds?” You watched his cheeks turn a shade of pink, had he really spaced out that hard while staring at you? “W-wha.. no, no sorry…” he couldn’t think of an excuse if he tried, so you hugged his arm a little tighter.

“I promise I won’t leave your side, so you have nothing to worry about.” You turned away before he could see the smirk creeping up your face. Before you knew it, you were being ushered inside of the dark club, the entire place was bathed in changing lights. The music was making the floor vibrate, the dance floor already flooded with people as the DJ played remixes of popular songs. You tugged Sanemi down to your level, yelling slightly “let’s go to the bar!” He nodded, allowing you to guide him through as you trailed behind your friends. He had a feeling this would probably be the last time he saw them for the rest of the night. You were leaning over the counter, yelling to the bartender what you wanted, turning to ask Sanemi what he would like. A moment later you were being handed the drinks, Sanemi pushing past you to place the money on the counter. You handed him his beer, sipping on the cocktail you had ordered for yourself. You grabbed his arm again, tugging him over to a high top table. “Crazy isn’t it?” You yelled across to him, your friends had already disappeared elsewhere. Sanemi nodded, eyes scanning his surroundings.

“Where did your friends go?” He yelled back to you, not really caring that they had already dissolved somewhere in the crowd. “Probably already on the dance floor! It doesn’t matter though!” You laughed, already feeling a slight buzz from the strong drink, you never really had a tolerance in the first place. “Oh?” He laughed, sipping his beer “why’s that?” He continued, setting the cup down. You lean over, smiling at him “Cause I get to spend more time with you! Get your mind off of your shitty hook up.” You laughed as you straightened again, sipping more of your drink and bouncing gently to the beat of the music. Much to Sanemi’s relief, it was dark enough that you couldn’t see the way his cheeks turned a flaming red. You didn’t want to go anywhere until you finished your drink, there was no fun in dancing and spilling it everywhere. You glanced at Sanemi, noticing the way his eyes seemed to sparkle as he observed his surroundings, it was kind of cute. “I hope you don’t mind dancing!” You yelled to him, downing the rest of the cocktail with a grin. “Dancing? Me?” He still had half of his beer left, but that wasn’t going to stop you.

“Yeah, you. Don’t tell me you came here just to stand around.” You laughed, setting your empty glass on the table before rounding it to stand next to him. “C’mon! Let loose a little.” Your hand rested on top of his, the one holding his beer cup to be exact. “You’ll have to get a couple drinks in me if you want me to let loose. And that’s not happening.” He smirked at you “Like I said, precious cargo, I need to get your pretty self home nice and safe.” You chose to ignore the pretty comment, despite the fact that it made your heart do backflips. “That’s fine, you’ll just have to get over it then and come out and dance with me sober. Everyone else is already drunk anyways, nobody is going to pay us any mind.” Liar he thought to himself, people were certainly paying you some of their mind. If one more person checked you out he was positive he was going to have a heart attack. “Not happening.” He laughed as you got closer, his heart pounding erratically as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah, sure.” You laughed, taking a step away from him. “If you’re not going to join me, you can just watch.” You turned on your heels, maneuvering through the crowd so you could descend to the dance floor. Sanemi cursed under his breath, downing the rest of his beer and following after you. Cheeky little shit. He could help but smirk, catching up to you within a few strides and grabbing your arm. “What happened to staying close to me?” His voice was against your ear, bodies too close for him to not feel the way you shivered. “Change of heart.” You murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. “Not that it matters now, come dance.” He couldn’t say no to you, not even if he wanted to. You moved through the crowd, closer to the middle so he’d feel a little less awkward. The song began to change as you turned to face him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders so you could lean up and whisper in his ear. “Just do whatever feels right.” He couldn’t resist, his hands finding to it waist as you began swaying to the music.

With your guidance, he began to move too, pushing past how awkward he felt about it until all he could see was you. He wasn’t even sure how it happened, but four songs had passed and the two of you were still dancing. Your bodies bumped into each other every once in a while because of the amount of people on the floor with you. It was claustrophobic, the amount of sweaty, drunk bodies swaying and grinding to the various beats the DJ played. But at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less. Not when you seemed to be having so much fun, your hands clinging to his shirt to keep him close as you danced. Sanemi let his hands wander, holding your hips just a little tighter, daring to drag you closer to him. You felt him hesitate, as if looking for your approval. You caught on, the slight buzz from your drink giving you enough courage to close the distance for him. You could have melted on the spot, your chest pressing to his due to the extra height from your heels. “Hey…” he uttered softly, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your faces were inches apart, “… hey” you spoke softly. You were close enough that he could hear it over the music. You stopped swaying, standing completely still as you looked each other in the eye. You knew where it was going, but you wanted him to take the initiative. Sanemi’s eyes darted from yours, eyeing your lips before looking back up at you. Nervously, his tongue poked out to wet his lips, the ball of the tongue piercing glimmered under the strobe lights. There was only one time in his life that he had ever been nervous to kiss someone and it was because it was his very first kiss ever. Then again, he hadn’t really felt much for anyone outside of flings and the rare hook up. You though? You were something different entirely. It petrified him, in every possible way. Standing still on a raving dance floor just so happens to work in his favor. You both let out noises of surprise when someone accidentally bumps into Sanemi’s back, which causes him to fall into you.

Your noses bump as the guy yelled out a sorry before stumbling further into the crowd. You begin to laugh, adding more distance when all Sanemi wanted was to close it. While you’re distracted, his hands leave your hips to cup your face, holding you in place as he closes the distance. You gasp into the kiss, the grip you had on his shirt tightening as if he’d disappear. Your initial shock disappears after a moment, your lips parting easily for him to enter. It thrills you, feeling Sanemi’s tongue sweep into your mouth, your own tongue dancing around him until you ghost across the metal tongue piercing. You whine, you had somehow already forgotten that crucial piece of information. Sanemi heard you, his hold on your face shifting back down to your hips as he swayed with you to the music again. You were fascinated by the metal, running your tongue along it until you felt the vibrations of Sanemi’s groan.

You parted, gasping for air as the club around you suddenly felt way too overstimulating. One look told Sanemi everything he needed to know, his hand finding your own to pull you off of the dance floor. Your roles had quickly reversed, instead of you dragging Sanemi around the club, he was dragging you out of it. The cool night air no longer offered you any release, your ears ringing at the immediate volume change. “Sanemi…” he didn’t respond until you were well into the parking lot. “Yeah?” he turned to look at you, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “Nothing…” You smiled, just wanting to see his face. That one smile nearly made his knees week, his head turning to fumble with his keys. Once the car clicked open, he reached for the back door, making your heart leap into your throat as he made his intentions extremely clear. You felt a wave of heat flood your body, scrambling past him with a chuckle. By the time you threw your purse into the front seat, Sanemi was clambering in behind you and slamming the door shut.

He was on you again in seconds, the cramped backseat not helping the situation but you would take whatever you could. Your dress rode up as you spread your legs to accommodate Sanemi on top of you, his hand shooting to grab the back of your head before it hit the window. “This isn't ideal.” you laughed, watching a smile tug at his own lips as he moved to kiss you for a second time. “I know it's not ideal…” he pulled away to speak before kissing you a third time “but I need you…so bad.” his voice had dropped to a hush whisper, your body responding immediately to the desperation in his voice. “It’s fine…” you choked out, the arousal throbbing in your gut drowned out any discomfort you felt. You pulled Sanemi to you, trying to shift your body into a laying position to see if it made things a little easier. Sanemi’s lips were on yours for a fourth time, shifting his weight to rely on his elbows as his body pressed tightly to yours. You moaned softly into the kiss, his weight sending waves of arousal straight to your cunt. It took a minute but you were finally able to settle into a somewhat comfortable position.

Your hands found their way to his hair, ruining his attempt at wrangling the typically untameable strands. He groaned, shivering at the feeling of your hands on him, his own excitement manifesting physically as it brushed along your exposed thigh. “Fuck…” you pulled away, your mind going blank the moment his erection grazed you. Saliva kept your lips connected, breath mingling with one another as you panted. “Sanemi…” You spoke softly, his eyes zeroing in on you and clinging to every word. “Yeah?” he couldn’t think straight, the urge to rip your dress right off of you and fuck you stupid in the back seat of his car was clawing it’s way to the forefront of his mind. “Take me home. Please, if we’re going to do this… I want to do it right. Take me to our home.” He was putty in your hands, heart racing at the use of our. “Of course, fuck of course…” His dick throbbed at the very thought, scrambling to get off of you and get into the front seat. You followed after him, barely bothering to fix your dress as you got into the passenger side. Sanemi turned the keys, the car coming to life a moment later.

Your thighs were squeezing together as he pulled out of the spot and drove towards the street. “Ah, ah, pretty girl…” Without even looking at you, Sanemi’s hand found your left thigh and forced it away from the other. “You can wait till we’re home.” He glances at you before turning onto the road, your eyes are lidded with need, focusing on the way his scarred hand is squeezing the plush flesh of your thigh. “No fair…” You whined softly, your body aching with need, the feeling of his hand only sending your thoughts into a helpless spiral. Sanemi didn’t break though, as much as he wanted to. He was quickly realizing it pained him to tell you no, regardless of the circumstance. All the while, your eyes were shifting between his hand and his groin. His cock was straining against the material of his pants, the slight clench in his jaw told you he was struggling just as much as you were. “You asked for this.” He murmured softly when he felt your eyes on him still. “Yeah, I know but…” the realization that there was still twenty minutes left in the drive felt like utter torture. “But nothing.” He teased you again.

“Sanemi…” you tried again, it was a useless battle, especially since you were the one who told him you wanted to go home. “You can survive, c’mon now, you can’t be that needy for me already.” His tone was low, dripping with sarcasm. It made your face feel warm, squirming in your seat as you crossed your arms. “Me? Needy? Look at you.” You tried to give him the same attitude but you couldn’t muster the courage. With the information you knew, you could certainly rile him up. But you decided to save that revelation for later. “Look at me? I don’t need to self reflect to know how badly I want you.” He squeezed your thigh to drive his point home, smirking as you gasped and tensed at the feeling. You felt small in comparison, as if nothing you said would make him break. So you let him tease you, his hand massaging your thigh until you could feel your arousal dampening your underwear. How embarrassing. You held back a groan, hand itching to return the favor. As you came to a red light, waiting to take the exit for the highway, your hand crept over.

You placed your hand over the prominent bulge in his pants, holding your breath as Sanemi inhaled sharply. “So that’s how you’re gonna be, Hmm?” He hummed softly, his hand leaving your thigh to undo his pants. “By all means, have fun.” You swallowed, seeing the opportunity he was allowing you and taking it. You fished him out of his pants, holding back a groan as his cock sprang forward. “Fuck…” you nearly choked on your own saliva as you looked at the size of him. The red light was filling the car with a dim glow, along you to see the shine already coating his tip. “Sanemi… I just want to make sure.” You stared at him, adjusting yourself in your seat. “Make sure of what?” He seemed nonchalant but you could see the way his jaw was tensing, eyes training on the traffic light and practically begging it to go. “That if I do this, you won’t crash the car.” You teased him a bit, but it was also a genuine question. Sanemi smiled at that, throat bobbing as he swallowed before stealing a glance. “I’ll be fine.” That quick look sent your heart into a flurry, the light switching from red to green as if giving you the go ahead.

Sanemi’s foot hit the gas a little harder than necessary, shooting forward and knocking you back a bit. “Yeah…” you mumbled under your breath, readjusting in your seat “you’ll be fine.” You mimicked him, nearly turning completely sideways in the passenger side seat. “I promise, if it’s too much I’ll tell you to stop.” There was pink coating his cheeks, the one hand he had on the wheel was clutching it so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “Yeah, whatever you say…” You laughed, leaning over to tentatively wrap your hand around the middle of his shaft. You didn’t believe one word he said, especially with the way he inhaled as your hand did nothing more than wrap around him. “I’ll take it easy on you.” You leaned forward, unable to see the way Sanemi’s eyes widened when he realized what you were doing. He had assumed it would be nothing more than a handjob to tease him until the two of you arrived home. He felt his heart leap into his throat as your head lowered to his lap. “Oh fuck…” he swallowed, eyes flickering down to you before refocusing on the road. Your tongue glided along the head of his cock, a small moan escaping your lips as Sanemi’s other hand settled on top of your head.

You felt the car slow for a second time as Sanemi rolled up to a second traffic light. You took the opportunity to lower your head further, taking in more of his cock. “Shit…” he hissed, eyes trained on the back of your head as you lavished him with your tongue. The light was quicker than he had wanted it to be, once again he stepped on the gas, holding his breath as he took the exit to get on the highway. You steadied yourself, the position a bit uncomfortable considering you were leaning over the center console to suck him off. You dared to go lower, taking in half of him before pulling back up. It took you a minute but you found a rhythm that felt good for you, listening intently to his quiet gasps over the sound of the wind hitting the car. You couldn’t see it, but Sanemi was pushing eighty-five miles an hour as he flew down the highway. His brain was going just as fast as the car, unable to process the reality that you were going down on him. Never mind the fact that you were doing it as he drove. Your tongue continued to lick along the head of his cock, pulling way to lick further down his shaft before returning to the top.

Carefully you pulled away all together, leaving him gasping as you settled back into your seat. “You didn’t think I was going to be that generous right?” you smirked at him, wiping the saliva from your lips as you did. Sanemi was a bit stunned, though he shouldn’t have expected anything less. Laughter bubbled in his throat, his free hand haphazardly tucking his still hard cock away. “No, I actually didn't. Though that just means I need to make things even.” His hand returned to your thigh, kneading the flesh as he continued to floor it down the highway. You swallowed, thighs parting a little further as you counted down the seconds until you were home. The alcohol was still lingering in your system, your nerves seemingly set on fire as your body ached for him. You wanted to give him more, you couldn’t wait to give him more. So far, your roommate was surpassing your expectations. Not when your wildest wet dream could compare to the things you were feeling now. Sanemi himself was nothing like the Sanemi you fantasized about, he was far better. That realization had you squirming in your seat, the silver ball tongue piercing lingering in your mind as you thought about what it would feel like.

“I have to ask…” you sighed softly, you were maybe ten minutes away now. Sanemi glanced at you quickly before looking at the road again, he said nothing, waiting for you to continue. “Does the tongue piercing make you better at giving head?” You laughed a bit but the question was serious. Sanemi smiled, a look of pure cockiness on his face. “So I’ve been told, I’ve even considered buying one of those stupid vibrating tongue piercings but I haven’t really had a reason to do so.” His cock was throbbing as he spoke, he certainly had a reason now to buy such a lewd item. The very thought of using a vibrating tongue ring on you had precum dampen his briefs. “You’ll have to show me your skills, maybe you’ll have to eat me out twice to show me the difference with and without.” You usually would have choked on your words saying something like that, but the way Sanemi’s lips parted in surprise made you glad you said it. “So you want me to go down on you? Why don’t you amuse me and tell me all the things you want your beloved roommate to do to you, hmm?” You felt your face grow warm, the grip he had on your thigh grew tight.

“Well, for starters, I would love for my beloved roommate to go down on me.” You sighed, still thinking about what it would be like. “I would also love for my roommate to fuck me stupid, specifically in his bed.” You felt no shame or embarrassment confessing what you wanted, the way Sanemi’s nails dug into your flesh told you he enjoyed every word you spoke. “Specifically my bed? Why is that?” He wasn’t sure why that stirred something in him, he already had every intention of taking you to his room when you finally got back. But hearing you utter those words had him feeling possessive. “I don’t really know…just like the idea. Your bed always looked comfy to me, and your room always smells nice.” What you wanted to say is that it smelt like him. His grip on your thigh had loosened just a bit when he figured he was leaving nail indents in your skin. Instead, Sanemi moved to massage the flesh as he took the exit off of the highway. You were nearly home, his mind was practically turning to mush as the anticipation grew even heavier. “What else?”

His voice was growing hoarse, he had never wanted to fuck someone as badly as he wanted to fuck you in that very moment. “I want to finish what I started of course.” You glanced at him and then down to his lap, a smile on your lips as he inhaled deeply. “Yeah? Sounds like we’re going to have a long night.” You sighed, fidgeting a bit as your apartment building finally came in view. “We better, I got all dressed up just for you to drag me out of the club.” You laughed as he turned to look at you, the look was of pure disbelief. “By all means I can take you back.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, he wouldn’t let you go out of arm's reach at this point. “No way, I’d kick your ass.” Your hand shot down to grab his wrist, gently pulling him off your thigh. You could see his visible confusion as he watched the road, unsure of what you were doing. Slowly, you intertwined your fingers with his, smiling at the fact that he let you do it so easily. You brought his hand upwards, gently placing a kiss to the back of it. Sanemi inhaled, eyes itching to look at you but he needed to focus as he turned into the parking garage.

You continued to place kisses on his scarred hand, kissing your way over his knuckles and up each finger. You watched as Sanemi pulled into the garage, mildly impressed that he was able to take the sharp turns with only one hand on the wheel. Your body felt as if it had been shocked with electricity as he pulled into his assigned space. You let go of his hand even though you didn’t want to, opening the car door to get out before he had even turned the vehicle off. You were too eager to speak, marching your way towards the elevator as Sanemi scrambled to follow you. “Excited?” He laughed, as if he wasn’t chasing after you with long strides. “Of course I am.” You shot him a wink as you hit the button, the elevator doors opening slowly. Once you both stepped in, all bets were off. You gasped as his hands found your waist again, pulling you to his chest so he could crush his lips against yours. “The camera…” you pulled away as you began to ascend, Sanemi couldn’t care less that this would be caught on surveillance. So he kissed you again, making his point clear as you gave in and wrapped your arms around his neck.

It wasn’t long before the doors opened and you had to part again reluctantly, this time Sanemi was grabbing your hand and tugging you down the hall. His free hand was fumbling with his pocket, pulling out his keeps as you reached the door. You watched the key slot into the lock with bated breath, your knees nearly giving out as the door swung open and you both stumbled inside. You didn’t get a chance to properly shut the door, Sanemi was pressing you against it and effectively slamming it shut in the process. You didn’t get a chance to complain either because Sanemi was nearly suffocating you as his lips crashed to yours again. This time it was fully unrestrained, his hands pushing your dress upwards while your hands tugged at his top. The kiss turned into a messy clash of teeth and tongue until he was pulled away to bury his face in your neck instead. You gasped, the sensation of his teeth grazing your skin making you shiver as his hands trailed up your side to start tugging your dress down from the top instead. “You’re going to destroy my d-dress…” You choked as his teeth sunk into your skin.

He only groaned in response, tongue licking along the teeth indents he had left behind. “Yeah whatever, I’ll buy you a new one.” He seemed fully unbothered, head dipping low again to suck along your jaw. Your heart was beating in your throat, hands finding their home in the hair you disturbed earlier when kissing him. “S-shit…” You sighed as Sanemi’s tongue licked along your jaw before returning to your neck. His hand gripped the top of your dress again, yanking it down harshly until you heard the zipper tear. “Sanemi!” you didn’t quite care at that moment but you knew it would bother you in the morning. “I said I’d buy you another one. Fuck I’ll buy you as many dresses as you want if it means I can tear them off of you.” He returned to leaving hickeys on your neck, not stopping until purple bruises littered your skin. You squealed as your dress was pushed down further, your breasts finally freed from their confines. Sanemi took a second to admire before attaching his lips to your nipple. A loud moan escaped you, eyes wide as you felt him suck and lick the sensitive skin. The moment the ball of his tongue piercing glided along your breast you knew you were done for, your eyes nearly rolling back as your mind went wild.

He continued to run his tongue along your skin, flicking your nipple strategically with his tongue piercing every few goes. You could feel your knees going weak, you couldn’t support your body weight much longer if he was going to tease you like this. Sanemi seemed to realize, pulling away from your breast with a soft pop, a string of saliva keeping his mouth and your breast connected. He said nothing, rather he smirked at you, reaching down to hook his arm around your waist and haul you up and over his shoulder. “Sanemi!” you practically shrieked, you knew he was strong but you didn’t think he was that strong. You could feel his laughter, his shoulder digging into your stomach as his free hand came up to land a swift smack on your dress-clad ass. A string of profanities left your lips as Sanemi pushed his room door open, your ass cheek was stinging from the impact of his spank. “Colorful words you got there.” He snorted as he dropped you onto his bed, watching you bounce a little before settling. “Oh whatever.” your face was warm, eyes struggling to meet his. Sanemi’s head tilted, admiring how you looked. Half naked, breasts exposed and wet with his saliva. Pretty bruises littering your neck, your lips swollen from his kisses, your hair tousled from all the movement. To him, you had never looked better.

Sanemi sighed, undoing the rest of the buttons that you had nearly ripped off, tossing the shirt to the ground and smiling as it caught your attention. “So…” he began, taking a step towards the side of his bed before leaning forward. He braced his arms on either side of your hips, the mattress dipping further under his added weight. “What do you want first? Continue where we left off… or let me get a taste…” His forehead was nearly touching yours, breath mingling as he waited for your response. “It’s your turn…” You spread your thighs a little further, hand reaching for his shoulder as you motioned for him to get on his knees before you. Sanemi huffed out a laugh “it’s hard for me to say no when you look at me like that.” His knees hit the ground with a soft thump, his hands sliding up your thighs and forcing a shiver out of you. “Do I have your permission to take this dress off of you?” His head tilts, waiting for your answer. “A-absolutely you do…” you lifted your hips, helping him tug the material off you and drop it off to the side. Sanemi took a minute, drinking in the sight of your bare skin. He was staring at you as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. “So…” your voice was soft, anticipation killing you.

“Sorry.” his face turned red, his hands grabbing for the waistband of your panties. “You’re so beautiful.” He couldn’t look at you as he said it, if he did he was convinced his heart would implode on the spot. “So are you.” You lifted your hips for him a second time, allowing him to take the last piece of clothing you had on, off of you. “Don’t flatter me.” his tone was teasing, eyes taking on a different look as your cunt was exposed to him. No further words were spoken as Sanemi coaxed your legs open further. You braced yourself on your elbows, legs dangling off the side of the bed as Sanemi slowly moved to kiss your thighs. The shine from his tongue piercing glimmered in the moonlight leaking through his window, sending shockwaves of arousal through you as his hands moved to hold your hips. His hair tickled your thigh as he licked fat stripes up your skin, avoiding the place you wanted him most just to tease you a little further. You watched him with bated breath, whining softly as his breath fanned over you before pulling away. “Sanemi… please.” You had waited far too long for him to tease you like this. Sanemi huffed out another laugh, the persistent twitch in his pants was making him impatient as well.

He stopped teasing you, his hands finding their way to your thighs again as he lowered his head. Your body tensed as the flat of his tongue licked along your folds. The metal ball of his tongue piercing was more prominent than you thought it would be, even though it was as warm as the rest of him, you felt it. “Oh…” you gasped, head falling backwards. You were torn between keeping yourself propped up so you could watch and just laying back to enjoy it. Sanemi’s tongue continued to lap at your cunt, purposely avoiding the place you wanted him the absolute most. “Sanemi please…” You were aching for him to pay attention to your clit, but the small smirk that tugged on his lips as he nipped at your inner thigh told you this was payback. “Sanemi please! I said I would finish what I started in the car… stop teasing me…” Your hips wiggled, thrusting upwards as if you could force him to eat you out the way you wanted. One movement and he had stilled you completely, his hand splaying across your abdomen and pushing you back to the mattress. “Relax.” His tone held authority, making you feel rather pathetic for squirming in the first place. “Sorry…” you settled again, eyes struggling to hold contact with him. “Good girl.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, Sanemi’s head dipping down again to eat you out with a little more fervor. He ran the ball of his tongue piercing along your lips, leaving a shining trail of saliva in its wake. A quiet whine slipped past your lips, hand fisting in his comforter as you tried not to seem too impatient. He caught on of course, finding it impossible to hold off any longer. As much as he wanted to take his time, he was far too excited to keep holding off. A loud gasp slipped past your lips as his tongue flicked across your clit, the metal ball hitting it the second time. “Oh fuck…” The feeling of his tongue piercing very different, each pass over your clit made your thighs tense. Sanemi’s mouth moved to wrap around the pulsing nerve, sucking harshly while swiping his tongue repeatedly. The motion had your arms giving out, falling flat on the bed as you moaned completely unrestrained. Sanemi continued, one hand still pressing down on your abdomen as he used the other to place one leg over his shoulder. He quickly switched, placing his other hand on your abdomen so he could grab your other leg and throw it over his shoulder as well.

This way, you couldn’t close your legs if you wanted to and now he had the ability to do what he did next. Your entire body tensed as two fingers slipped inside of your already wet cunt, curling perfectly before uncurling again to thrust sloppily. “S-sanemi!” You choked out his name, the sudden intensity making your eyes water as he fucked you with his fingers and tongue. As quickly as he gave in, he stopped, pulling away just enough to gasp for air. You whined, glancing down at him to see his lips and chin covered in a mixture of saliva and your arousal. “Sanemi.” All you could utter was his name at this point, no other words would come to mind unless it was to beg him to keep going. “You didn’t think I was going to be that generous, did you?” He used your own line against you, smirking as your head fell back with a groan. “L-let me make it up to you. I-I’ll finish what I started but you have to do the same.” Your previous confidence had flown out the window, your mind too cloudy to think of anything else but his tongue. “Oh, I see what you mean.” Sanemi’s hand left your cunt, moving to hold your legs and caress them softly. “How about this?” He moved your legs off of his shoulders, the position itself had made your stomach do backflips so you were a bit sad it was already over.

You watched him straighten, standing at his full height so he could take off his pants and boxers. “Sit up, move further in.” he motioned for you to move towards the center of his bed, your heart rate spiking significantly when you realized he really had caught on to what you were implying. Within seconds, Sanemi was as bare as you, giving you a moment to admire him in his entirety before he crawled onto the bed with you. You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned over to kiss him, shivering as his hands found your hips and held you as he lowered himself into a lying position. You pulled away, lips slick with saliva as you looked down on him. “I think you know what to do… or do you want me to explain.” The look in his eyes was a teasing one, tongue sliding out to lick your saliva from his lips. “I got it.” You rolled your eyes, turning away before he saw you smile. “Alright then, show me.” It was a little awkward at first but you positioned yourself with your thighs on either side of his head, your cunt hovering just inches above your face. “Let me know when.” your voice was hoarse, Sanemi’s hands found their way to your hips again and pulled you down. You squealed as he forced nearly all of your weight on his face, until it felt like you would suffocate him.

“A-are you sure that's not too much?” You moaned as his tongue immediately found its way to your entrance, taking that as a yes, you leaned forward to wrap your hand around his aching cock. You gave him a few deliberately slow pumps before lowering your mouth. Your lips suctioned around his tip for the second time that night, tongue lapping at the bitter precum still oozing from him. You could feel him pulsate as you used one hand to stroke what your mouth couldn’t fit, drool seeping down his length to act as lube. You took a chance, your free hand coming down to hold his balls. The reaction you got was a loud groan vibrating your cunt, Sanemi’s tongue working even harder as your orgasm suddenly began to build in your gut. You massaged him gently, tongue licking up the underside of his shaft while you shamelessly fondled his balls. The intensity building in your gut was enough to have your hips jerking away from Sanemi’s face, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to take even more of his length. A loud yelp left you as Sanemi’s hands found your hips and forced them right back down on his face. The ball of his tongue piercing slid across your clit again before dipping into your entrance. You nearly pulled off of him, fully overwhelmed by pleasure, but you managed to stop yourself.

You continued to pump what you couldn’t fit, head bobbing in rhythm with your fist. Groans continued to vibrate your cunt, your hand still massaging the sensitive flesh. You never really knew what to do with them, but the way Sanemi was groaning told you that you were doing something right. The grip Sanemi had on your hips tightened significantly, his cock pulsating against your tongue. Strangled noises left your lips as your orgasm continued to build, the way his balls tightened in your grasp told you he was going to reach his climax at any second. You squirmed, your pace growing erratic as your hips grind down on Sanemi’s face. He encourages you, hand pushing and pulling your hips at a faster pace, finding the way your cunt ground on his tongue to be utterly exhilarating. Before you could process it, your hips were stuttering to a halt, your eyes watering as your orgasm snuck up on you. You spilled all over his tongue, a gush of warmth making your face turn hot as you struggled to continue sucking him off. Luckily for you, coming on his face was enough to send Sanemi over the edge as well, groaning loudly as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed what you could, the rest dribbling down your chin as you rolled off of him and to the mattress below.

You were gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling as you blinked stars from your vision. You didn’t get a chance to say anything before Sanemi was sitting up and maneuvering himself to hover over you. “I’m not done with you yet.” He looked unbearably good with his hair a mess, lips swollen and shining, his pupils dilated. You reached for his face, pulling him down to crash your lips together in a sloppy kiss. His hands roamed your body, one of them moving to slip between your thighs and finger your already sensitive cunt. “F-fuck…” you pulled away, only given a second to breath before his lips were on you again. The kiss tasted of arousal, your own mixing with his, it was almost intoxicating. Paired with the way Sanemi’s fingers curled inside of you, the remnants of your first orgasm prickled in your gut. You whined into the kiss, nails dragging along his shoulders as soft squelches filled the room. “You’re so fucking beautful.” Sanemi is heaving as he parts from you, he looks completely fucked out as he looks down to watch his fingers disappear and reapper from your greedy cunt. “You can take it, right? You still got some energy, yeah?” his cock was still achingly hard.

“Y-yeah…fuck…please just… don’t make me wait any longer, Sanemi…” He kissed you again, this time it was full of passion as he moved to crawl over you rather than lay beside you. He pulled away, looking down at you with parted lips before realizing something. “Wait, fuck we need a condom.” As he began to get off of you, your hand shot forward to stop him.”n-no we don’t… we don’t need it.” Your hands shook as you held onto his bicep, your eyes pleading with him. “We don’t need it?” He questioned, a bit shocked at what you were saying. “No…I’m clean.” You seemed to be ignoring the fact that he could easily get you pregnant. “So am I… I’ve only ever used condoms and…” he didn’t even get to fuck the girl from the night before so there was really no risk of fucking you raw. Maybe it was the lust fogging his mind and ruining his judgment, or maybe it was the sheer thrill of getting to feel you for the first time completely bare, but he agreed, choosing to forgo the condom and crawl back over you. “Are you sure?” his tone was hushed, one hand bracing himself while the other moved down to grab himself. You nodded, moving your legs to wrap around his waist so he could position himself. “Positive…just come on… Sanemi I need you, so bad.” He was a goner the moment you said that, any hesitation fleeing his body as you begged him. “Okay…okay…” he hushed you, leaning down to kiss you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you felt the dull head of his cock drag up and down your folds. You fumbled around a bit each time the metal ball of his piercing grazed your tongue, your hips jerking upwards to try and move him along. He was still teasing you, despite his own desperation to be inside of you. You pulled away, eyes closing as Sanemi’s tongue ran along your jaw. “Sa..Sanemi please…” you moaned at the pressure of his cock head pressing to your entrance. “Okay… okay… so impatient baby just relax…” You shivered at the nickname, something so simple made your body feel like it had been jolted with electricity. After another minute of your breathy whines, Sanemi gave in, steadying himself as he pressed his hips further into you. You both let out shaky gasps as his head pushed in, your walls immediately suctioning to the intrusion yet welcoming him at the same time. You watched Sanemi’s head look down, his hair tickling your face as he watched himself disappear inside of you inch by inch. “S-sanemi…” you choked out again, his head moving to look up at you with blown out pupils. “Yeah?” hoarse and desperate, he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of you looking at him like that. “Faster, please…” he hadn’t even bottomed out yet, a smile tugged at his lips. “God you’re so desperate, you want me so bad that it’s still not enough even when you have me.” You nodded, hands clinging to shoulders as you looked up at him. “I can’t argue with that…'' you whined as his hips met yours, his cock fully sheathed inside of your cunt. You clenched involuntarily, watching the smug smirk on his face disappear as a low moan slipped past his lips. You both stayed still, trying to adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. “You're j-just as bad.” you choked out, hips growing restless as you waited for him to gain his composure and move. The hand Sanemi had used to guide himself in was now moving to grab the back of your leg. You watched him curiously, letting him move your body into whatever position he pleased. A whine slipped past your lips as he shifted his weight into his knees, the movement pulling him out a bit before quickly pushing back. He was silent, forehead creased in concentration as he got both of your legs up over his shoulders. Sanemi inhaled deeply “This okay?” You nodded quickly, your body aching for some sort of relief as he purposely kept himself buried in you. “Y-yeah but you’re driving me insane… Sanemi please move…” Tears pricked your eyes, moaning loudly as his hips drew back half way before slamming back in.

Sanemi’s eyes squeezed shut, groaning as his cock dragged along your walls. It took a few thrusts but Sanemi found his rhythm, your moans encouraging him, pairing well with the sound of your skin slapping together each time he buried himself balls deep. Your entire body jiggled with the force of his thrusts, your head tilting back as he fucked you in earnest, babbling sweet praises to you each time his hips drew back. You couldn’t catch your breath, each thrust dragged across a particular spot, one that had you seeing stars. Your vision blurry as tears leaked down your cheeks, the pressure in your gut building but not enough to make you cum. Your hand shakily tried to move down, aiming to rub your clit and bring you to your climax but Sanemi stopped you. “N-not until I say so…” he huffed out, sweat dripping down his temple as he pressed your legs further against your chest with his body. “I’ll tell you w-when…” he groaned, your walls clamping down around him as you sobbed. He would be concerned if it weren’t for the guttural moans falling out of you with each drag of his cock, you were nearly fucked stupid at this point and he was enjoying every second of it. “You-You’re so fucking hot…” he grounded out, the throb in his dick only increased with each thrust, he needed to make sure he pulled out but the way your pussy clung to him was almost too much to fight against.

You responded with incoherent babbling, profanities and his name were the only intelligible words he could make out every so often. Sanemi switched his pace, rolling into you slowly until you were gasping for air, “S-Sanemi!” your hands gripped his shoulders, looking up at him with wide and desperate eyes. “Hmm?” he smirked down at you, each roll of his hips had him bumping your clit. “F-fuck…” he adored teasing you, the way your nails raked his skin as he tried to calm himself down. It was the only reason he changed his pace, he didn’t want this to end just yet, edging himself and you until he was absolutely desperate. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am, tell me how good I am at fucking you.” You choked, throat feeling dry as your restless hips tried to speed up his movements. “I don’t think so, pretty girl.” Sanemi drew out of you all together, ignoring your pleading as he moved to place both of your legs on one shoulder. He hugged them together with one arm, effectively immobilizing your restless body. “I’m not giving you what you want until you tell me…” He cooed softly, hand reaching down to wipe the tears leaking down your cheeks. You caught your breath, your cunt throbbing from the lack of contact when you had been so close to coming again.

“You’re so mean…” You hiccuped, acting as if he hadn’t given you everything you had wanted thus far. “Mean? Me?” he cooed softly, leaning over you a bit. “I’m sorry baby, but I’m not doing anything until you tell me how good I’m doing.” he repeated, tongue sticking out a bit as he smiled, biting down softly so you could see the underside of the tongue piercing. “Y-You’re doing good…” you whined, hands fidgeting as you couldn’t figure out where to place them. “Mmm? You can do better than that, tell me in detail.” The tip of his cock dragged along your folds, further driving you towards insanity at his sudden need to edge you. You squirmed, mouth feeling dry as you tried to conjure up a response that would please him. Your brain felt like mush though, face flooding with heat as you began to speak. Y-you’re fucking me so good, b-best I’ve ever had…” Sanemi smirked, his fingers thrumming along your calf. “Keep going, I know you have more to say.” His free hand was still dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick heat. “Sanemi… come on…” you whined, chest rising and falling rapidly each time he passed over your clit. You were sensitive enough that you were convinced you could cum just from that.

“Ah Ah, Sanemi nothing. Tell me how good my cock feels, my tongue, my fingers. I know you have a lot to say, you’re just being stubborn.” His eyes scanned over your face, the urge to kiss you was clawing at the back of his mind but the position didn’t allow him any room for that kind of movement. “Fuck! Y-you’re gonna make me cum if you…” Sanemi’s ears perked up, a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued to drag himself along your pussy. “Yeah? You’re gonna cum again just from this? All the more reason to tell me, baby.” You felt like you couldn’t breath, your orgasm building and tingling in your gut as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. “...ood…good… so fucking good your tongue is amazing. A-and your cock is-is better than I ever imagined it would be… so much better…” That caught his attention, swallowing thickly as he asked you to clarify. “Than you ever imagined? So… you’ve imagined me fucking you before?” He seemed to turn breathless, mouth hanging open just a bit as he watched your face contort. You were going to cum just from this, it was driving him wild. “Y-yes! Fuck I imagined you fucking me stupid all the t-time…” your hands fisted the sheets below you, pulling them taught as your walls clenched around nothing at all. “More…tell me more…” he needed to hear it.

“O-oh fuck…” you were nearly there. “Those mornings… fuck those mornings where i’d find you in the kitchen sh-shirtless… you fucking tease…” Your head fell back, gasping for air before you continued. “A-all I could think about was y-you bending me over the fucking counter and fucking me stupid…” Your orgasm was within reach, each sinful drag of his cock over your pulsating clit had you seeing stars. Your words seemed to do something to him, a loud moan ripping from your throat as he plunged back inside of you. Your orgasm rippled through you, walls twitching around him as you pathetically gripped him like a vice. It fizzled out far too soon, the lack of contact with your clit ending it almost prematurely. That didn’t stop the pleasure coursing through your body as Sanemi started right out of the gate with a brutal pace. “S_san-emi…” You wailed, nearly ripping his sheets as you tried to find some sort of stable grounding. “P-perfect… you’re so fucking perfect… with such a filthy fucking mind… Do you know how many times I got off thinking about you? Your beloved roommate is a perv…” he huffed out a laugh, looking at you with lidded eyes. “But it looks like my beloved roommate is just… as bad…” he groaned.

You wailed, eyes squeezing shut as his hips continued to ram his cock into you. His words did nothing but encourage your pleasure, the mild overstimulation had melted into pleasure. You could barely think straight but that didn’t stop you from feeling the persistent twitch of his cock, he was going to cum soon. You clenched around him, trying to tease him back and push him towards the edge, sweat dripped down his temple as he looked at you. “Naughty girl… you want me…my cum hmm?” his voice was hoarse, the strength in his teasing was dying out as his own release built. You nodded shamelessly, “p-please Sanemi…Nemi please…” The quiet nickname nearly did him in, hips stuttering for a moment before he found his pace again. “You want my cum? You want me to fill you up? Stuff you full…” the desire to spill inside of you was all too tempting, regardless of the potential consequences for doing so. He wouldn’t let himself get caught up in that daydream just yet, not when you were so pliant, not when you were so easily letting him have you however he pleased. His grip on your legs tightened, keeping you positioned with them both over one of his shoulders. This angle allowed him to watch the way your thigh and ass jiggled with the impact of each thrust.

“Y-yes…yes…fuck… please.” you babbled out, drool nearly slipping past the corner of your lip. Sanemi knew he was done for, the way you were looking at him was enough to make him melt. He’d never be able to deny you of anything you wanted, especially when you were looking at him like that. Caught up in his own emotions, his hips stuttered into a halt as his orgasm ripped through him. He moaned, completely unrestrained as his head fell forward with his eyes squeezed shut. His release spurted into you, making you whine as he pathetically thrusted into you with a shaky roll of his hips. The room fell silent, nothing but his panting mixed with your own, filling the quiet space. It took a few moments before either of you were ready to speak, your body feeling a bit sore. “Fuck…” Sanemi huffed out a breathless laugh, pulling out of you slowly. He watched for a moment as his cum leaked out of your abused entrance. He had to force himself to look away, setting your legs down gently. “Fuck.” you repeated him, a lazy grin on your face as you stretched, grimacing just a bit as you felt his release smear on your thighs.

Sanemi fell backwards, sprawling out on his mattress with one of his pillows beneath his head. You sat up, eyes shamelessly roaming over him and the content smile on his face. You thought about it for a moment before crawling over him. Sanemi watched you with an amused stare, your weight settling on him perfectly. Your thighs rested on either side of his hips, knees making the mattress dip as you laid forward and squished your chest to his. Your hands came up to hold his jaw, lazily kissing along his sweaty skin. Sanemi let you do as you pleased, hands coming down to hold your waist as you showered him in affection. “I meant every word I…tried to say.” you laughed softly, kissing his neck one last time before looking at him. “Mmm, I’m glad… I meant every word I said too, you know.” one hand left your waist to push your hair out of the way, the hair he had messed up while fucking you. It gave him satisfaction for some reason. You smiled, hands trialing from his face to his chest as you carefully pushed yourself into a sitting position. “Do you trust me, Sanemi?” That question had him looking at you with hesitation.

“Well, let’s see. You convinced me to fuck you with no condom, and you convinced me to creampie you…” he laughed as you playfully hit his chest. “I also live with you, I don’t lock my door at night…so I think…” he trailed off, fingers dancing along the skin on your thighs as he held you. “... I think it’s safe to say I do, in fact, trust you.” You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit “You’re such a drama queen.” Sanemi smiled up at you, the moonlight hitting you perfectly. Your smile seemed to shine, making his heart flutter. “Maybe I am, but I gave you my answer. It’s only right if you tell me why you asked.” Your fingers traced shapes on his chest as you looked at him through your lashes. “Well… I’m in the mood for more.” You started tentatively, gauging his reaction as you spoke. You nearly shivered at the way his eyes changed, quickly adapting a more sultry look. “That so? You’re still hungry for more?” his heart could explode on the spot, his dick immediately twitching to life again. “Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get enough of you.” That statement alone had Sanemi’s cheeks turning a shade of red. “I can easily say the same.” You laugh softly, feeling him twitch against the swell of your ass.

Your fingers continued to trace shapes along his chest, trailing down to his stomach and back up again. You counted the scars as you went, toned muscle flexing as you seemed to hit a ticklish spot. You kept him waiting, his hands holding your hips tightly as he waited for you to do something. “This is going to be my payback, isn’t it.” He laughed softly as you smiled, looking up at him with a mischievous look in your eyes. “Of course it is… you’ll comply, right?” of course he would, you could ask him to run naked through the street right now and he’d likely do it just to see you smile. “Kiss me.” it came out as a whisper, the look in his eyes pleading you to do it. You melted, leaning forward to kiss him slowly. It was different from any kiss you had shared that night, it was soft and sensual, as if you would devour the other whole. You began to laugh as the ball of his tongue ring clinked against your tooth. Sanemi erupted into a fit of giggles, the sound vibrating his chest. “That’s the first time that's ever happened.” You smiled, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before speaking. “Oh? Glad I could be your first something.” Sanemi’s head tilted against the pillow, “You’ve been a couple of firsts for me already.” he teased with a gentle grin.

That piqued your interest, pushing up gently until you were sitting again. His cock was still standing proudly, twitching slightly against your ass. “Please indulge me.” Sanemi laughed, hands sliding up and down your thighs slowly. “You’re the first person to make me dance at a club, the first person to give me road head, the first girl I ever fucked raw and came in…” he laughed as you slapped his chest again “You asked!” he squeezed your thighs a bit, eyes lighting up as you laughed with him. You leaned forward again, kissing him deeply for the umpteenth time. This time it was a little different, one of your hands planted firmly to Sanemi’s chest as you used the other to reach behind and grab him. He gasped into the kiss, allowing you to swallow it whole as you positioned him right at your entrance. You settled back slowly, engulfing him in wet heat. You felt different to him this time, your arousal mixed with his cum making you feel even wetter than before. His nails raked your thighs as you sat down fully, chest heaving as you adjusted to him being inside of you again. You both stared at each other in silence, your hips rolling slowly. You indulge yourself for a minute, squirming as your clit dragged along his pubic bone with each slow roll of your hips. Sanemi watched you, completely entranced by your body.

“This time around…” you stopped rolling your hips, hands splaying across his abdomen as you gauged how much you could move. “...you’re going to tell me how good I’m fucking you.” with your knees digging into the mattress, you could lift your hips about half way before dropping them down again. You were satisfied with that for the time being, smiling sweetly at Sanemi as you tried to find your rhythm. He watched you closely, mouth parted slightly as you began to properly bounce on him. You couldn’t help but feel warm as his eyes shamelessly drank in the sight of your body, eyes glued to the way your breasts bounced with each drop, the way his cock disappeared and reappeared between your thighs. He wasn’t used to being at someone’s mercy, but he rather enjoyed watching you have your fun. You continued to bounce, leaning forward a bit to dip your head down and lick up his stomach. A strangled noise slipped past Sanemi’s lips as your tongue ran up his abs and towards his chest. Nobody had ever done that to him before, the look alone was enough to make his head spin. You didn’t stop there, licking your way to his chest and gliding your tongue over one nipple. All the while, your hips were still moving up and down his length. You trailed your tongue over his nipple again, enjoying the way his grip on you tightened, a shaky breath escaping him. You wanted to hear more.

You looked up at him, your lashes making your view a little blurry. But it was still enough for you to enjoy the steadily growing flush on Sanemi’s face, the way it crept up to his ears and down to his chest, not quite reaching where your tongue was circling. You could feel his heart pounding under your hand, lips suctioning to his nipple and sucking gently. Another strangled noise escaped him, a mix between a moan and a whine, it only made him flush further. Still, you ached to hear more. Your hips had grown a bit restless, your mind focused on his chest more than the drive of your hips. You tried to recenter, hips moving rhythmically again as you bit down on his nipple. Sanemi cried out, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure mixed with embarrassment. You were going to drive him crazy, the feeling of your lips suctioned to his chest had his heart nearly vibrating with the intensity it was beating. You pulled your lips away, suppressing a moan as you settled fully on him again. “So…” your fingers trialed over his nipple, slick with your saliva, you felt the urge to bite him harder. “So…” Sanemi choked out, a bit dazed by your actions. “How am I doing so far?” At this point you were cockwarming him instead of riding him, just enough to edge him but not enough for him to come.

“Really good…you’re doing really good…” he swallowed, hips becoming a bit restless as they jerked a little beneath you. Grinning, you leaned down again, teeth sinking into the flesh of his pectoral as your hips lifted nearly all the way before slamming down on him. Sanemi moaned again, the sensations turning his brain back into mush as you lapped at the teeth marks you left around his nipple. You repeated this process with the nipple you had neglected thus far, moaning softly as you rolled your hips. You were going to drive him insane, your version of teasing was far crueler than his. Yet he loved every minute of it, completely lost in the way you were edging him. When you were satisfied with your markings, you shifted your full attention back to riding him, pulling off all together despite his complaints as you repositioned yourself. “It’ll be worth it…” you crooned, ignoring the strain in your thighs as you planted your feet firmly on either side of his hips. The best part, Sanemi was completely pliant, letting you do as you pleased with a flushed face and lazy grin. But you could tell, he was waiting for you to go too far, tease him for too long, then he’d take over. You really wanted to see what his limits were, albeit you figured you would have plenty of time after tonight to figure that out. But, you had waited too long to not try and indulge in everything now.

You sunk back down on him, watching Sanemi’s head fall back as you took half of him. Once again, you began to bounce until you found a good rhythm. Even though your thighs burned a bit with the effort, your new position allowed you much more control over your movements. “Fucking…shit…oh fuck~” You whined just as loud as Sanemi’s words, your whole body feeling warm as you rode him with more fervor. The slick sounds emitting from your needy cunt had you whining, eyes wanting to squeeze shut but unable to. You didn’t want to miss a single second of the way Sanemi’s face contorted in pleasure. He was way more sensitive, a third orgasm in such a short time frame may be pushing him beyond his limits but god dammit you were too perfect to stop. His eyes seemed to gloss over, hands pathetically grasping at your legs as his hips bucked up unceremoniously to meet yours. “T-tell me…” You gasped out, hands falling behind you to brace yourself on his knees. “Good! Fuck you’re so per-ah-perfect.” He was turning scarlet, embarrassed by the noises you were getting out of him. “G-good…such a good boy…” you crooned, body aching with effort as you continued to fuck your self on him. Sanemi’s mind seemed to blank the moment you uttered good boy.

Any ounce of self restraint he had flew straight out the window. Sanemi’s hips jutted upwards, earning a yelp in response as you tried to regain your balance. It didn’t work though, you went from leaning backwards to falling against his chest within seconds. “S-sanemi…” you choked out as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place as his feet found stable ground in the mattress below him. This new position left you completely at his mercy, his hips pistoning into you with new vigor. The noises you made nearly sounded animalistic, your skin recoiling with each upwards thrust of his hips. “Y-you…this was supposed to be…” you nearly wailed, your orgasm coming out of nowhere as you sprayed warm liquid all over his dick. It dripped slowly to the mattress below, effectively ruining his bedding. Not that Sanemi cared though, if anything it made him work harder. “Yeah… your turn… I’ll g-give you another chance some other time.” His jaw was clenched, your body was nearly limp against his as he continued to rut into you. It didn’t take that much longer, Sanemi thrusts grew erratic as he reached his third and final peak. He came inside again, no longer caring about the consequences when his bones felt like jelly.

He fully relaxed a moment later, breathing heavy and unable to move. You couldn’t even find the strength to lift your head, listening intently to Sanemi’s heartbeat slowly return to normal. You stayed in that position for a while, shivering as his softened cock slipped out of you, the steady leak of his cum following it. “So…” Sanemi spoke softly, eyes feeling heavy. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this content. “So…” you repeated, carefully lifting your head. You had moved to get off of him, despite his protests. You settled next to him, your front pressed snuggly to his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulder to hold you close. “We need to clean up.” he muttered softly, not only did the two of you need to clean yourselves, you needed to change his bedding. “Yeah, we do, but I can’t really feel my legs right now.” You laughed, hand resting on his chest to trace the scars that were there. Sanemi snorted, his hand playing with your hair while his arm still rested on your shoulders. “We can worry about it in a little bit.” he teased softly, heart feeling as light as air with you next to him. “Did this… make-up for your shitty experience last night?” You chewed on your lower lip, now was a better time than any to reveal your secret.

“Ugh don’t remind me.” he cringed a bit, thinking back on the entire thing. “Well… I do have something to confess…” you started lightly, only a little worried about how he’d react. Though, it seemed Sanemi was already a step ahead of you. “You were awake, weren’t you?” he didn’t sound mad, rather he sounded curious. “I was.” you sounded a bit sheepish, continuing carefully. “I heard the whole ordeal and… well… I heard you moan my name.” You squeezed your eyes shut, even though you didn’t think he would react poorly, you were still bracing yourself for anger. “You did, huh?” Sanemi is chuckling, his hand still playing with your hair. “Is that why you had the courage to make a move?” It seems he knew you better than you thought. “Yeah, actually. It was the only reason I felt confident enough going for you… I was so scared of ruining this.” Your confession had his cheeks turning pink, a gentle smile creeping up his features. “I guess I can’t be too mad, especially since it led you right into my arms…finally.” he added softly, he wasn’t used to all this mushy stuff but with you he couldn’t seem to help it. “So, you feel the same then?” you were positive you had feelings for him, but you worried it was too soon to go on and confess you loved him. Even though it was the honest truth.

“If that feeling is love… then yes. It’s going to sound incredibly cliche, but I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Those feelings only intensified the more I got to know you.” You looked up at him, finding a bit more strength in your limbs as you moved to kiss his cheek. “I…I love you too. It’s super cliche but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, you’ve been a thought on my mind since we met up for the first time to see if we’d be a good fit to live together.” you confessed with a grin, eyes sparkling in the moonlight that filled his room. “So we've been dancing around each other since the end of August for no reason.” Sanemi laughed in disbelief, you joined him. “I guess so.” You laughed as well, thighs shifting and making you cringe a bit. “We really need to clean up…” you could feel the sticky remnants beginning to dry. “We do.” He sounded a bit sad as he let you go, allowing you to get up and off the bed. He followed you, holding back a laugh when he realized how fucked up his comforter got. “Go take a shower, I’ll take care of this.” You pouted a bit, face warm when you looked at the damage. “Will you join me after?” You truly had no energy for anything else, but the idea of showering alone just felt so lonely. Sanemi laughed, pulling you close to place a kiss on top of your head. “Yeah, I’ll join you.” he let you go a moment later, watching as you walked out of the door and headed for the bathroom.

Now that he was alone, he couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. He was so happy he could start skipping, he had never been so happy to strip his bed. The comforter would need to be washed, so would his sheets, but luckily his mattress was unharmed. That being said, he wasn’t in any mood to go to the basement and do a load of laundry. “Her bed it is.” he muttered to himself, thankful that your bed was still clean and untouched. Laundry could wait for the morning, for now, you were waiting for him in the shower. You had only been standing under the warm water for a few minutes before Sanemi joined you. Neither of you had the energy to do anything other than bathe, though it was far more intimate than anything you had done that night. He was gentle with you, taking all the time he could to bathe your body. He even washed your hair for you, scrubbing your scalp with care. You returned the favor, enjoying every minute of washing his body, enjoying the way his muscles flexed. “You’re ticklish, aren't you.” he couldn’t deny it if he wanted to. You two stayed in the shower until the water began to turn cold. You stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around you as you began brushing your teeth, it was close to one in the morning at this point. Sanemi fell into rhythm beside you, brushing his teeth and while watching you in the mirror. You winked at him, putting your toothbrush away and laughing as he blushed.

Sanemi had told you the plan before getting out of the shower, so you entered your room to find something to put on. Sanemi joined you again a few minutes later, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. “I promise this is how I typically sleep.” He laughed when you eyed in with your eyebrow cocked. You had put on an oversized tshirt and panties, no bra or anything else. You settled into bed together, curling up beside Sanemi immediately. “There is one other thing we haven’t discussed.” You started softly, head resting on his chest as you closed your eyes. “Yeah? What is it?” His hand had returned to your hair, playing with slightly damp locks. “What are we? Now, I mean.” You were giving him the option, allowing him to choose whatever he felt most comfortable with. “Well, if you’d let me… I’d love for you to be my girlfriend.” You were thankful the room was dark and that your face was on his chest so he couldn’t see the way you smiled. “I would love nothing more than to call you my boyfriend.” You tried to sound calm but the giddiness in your tone gave it away. “Consider it done then, pretty girl.” You laughed now, arm slinging over his waist to hold him close. “Good night, lover boy.” Sanemi’s laughter rumbled in his chest, quietly he uttered “Good night, pretty”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

A month and a half later, your shared apartment looked a bit different. You had sold your bed frame and mattress after a few weeks of sleeping only in Sanemi’s bed. You figured the items were just taking up space and there was probably some college student itching to get their hands on a good deal. Plus… who doesn’t like a little bit of pocket money. So you listed them as a set and it’s no shock that they sold within a day. Sanemi had been lovingly pestering you to turn the space into a gym/office. “There is no way we’re getting gym equipment all the way up here! There is a damn community gym on the ground floor.” Sanemi had only pouted, saying he didn’t want all the fancy stuff. Just some weights and maybe a pull up bar so he could work out while you studied. “You just want new ways to seduce me.” His laugh told you that you weren’t too far off with your statement. In the end, you gave in. Since you’d be living here the whole year, even during break, it was only right to make the place your own.

This time, as a couple opposed to roommates.

You ended up finishing your room makeover just in time for finals. The t wo of you spent the week leading up to your exams in that room, stud ying… for the most part. Regardless, the most dreaded time of year came and went and you both ended your semester with passed exams and passed classes. Now, you can enjoy your winter break in peace. “Are you sure they won’t be upset?” Your cheeks puffed out as you pulled the zipper closed on your suitcase. “Of course not, Ma will love having another mouth to feed. It’s her biggest form of love really. Plus my siblings have been dying to meet you.” Your heart fluttered a bit, you’d only talked to and seen Sanemi’s family through his own texts and pictures. You had gotten to know Genya a bit over the few times Sanemi facetimed him. As for the other siblings, you were still trying to get their names and faces down pat. You often found yourself silently repeating “Genya, Sumi, Hiroshi, Tekio, Koto, and Shuya.” his mother’s name was Shizu, which you had already committed to memory.

“I really don’t want to be any trouble.” You added softly, still a bit worried about going to meet his family. Sanemi stopped looking through his things, looking up at you with a sad smile. “You won’t be any trouble at all, I mean it. My Ma even yelled at me over the phone! She said if I didn’t bring you home with me then she’ll never let me hear the end of it. She’s even more excited to meet you than my siblings are.” He crossed the room, wrapping you in a tight hug. “It seems like a lot of pressure…” he added softly, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “But you have nothing to worry about, they’ll love you, just as much as I do.” You laughed a bit, mumbling out an “I love you too” against his chest. When you pulled away, he was a bit surprised to see tears in your eyes. “Hey…” he whispered softly, smiling as he used his thumb to wipe them away. “I promise you, they’ll love you.” His constant affirmations made your heart pound. “I trust you.” He kissed your forehead, letting you go just a bit reluctantly. “Do you have everything you need?” Luckily his family lived kinda close. It would only take three hours by train to get there. His mother would be waiting to pick the two of you up from the station.

“I do, do you?” you raised an eyebrow as he closed up the fairly empty suitcase. “Yeah, it’s my home we're going too.” he chuckled as he placed it on the floor “most of my stuff is still there.” You did the same, pulling up the handle so you could wheel it. “I guess that's true…” you were excited to see his family home, it would give you even more insight on the man you loved. You would be staying with them for two weeks and then returning. By then the holidays would be over and you’d get to start preparing for the spring semester. Then, you’d figure out if you’d renew the lease or look for somewhere else to stay. It seemed rather daunting but it was still months away, nothing to worry about now other than making a good impression. Sanemi lets you go ahead of him, flicking off the lights to your shared room before following you to the door. Your backpack was slung over one shoulder, your keys in the hand that was wheeling your suitcase behind you. “We’re still catching a taxi right?” Neither of you wanted to pay to keep your car at the train station for the next two weeks. “Yeah, I’ll pay for it.” He smiled when you scrunch your nose, you hated that he insisted on paying for everything himself.

Hell, he had even tried to pay the rent in full himself. By try, you mean he did. You nearly killed him when you found out he went ahead and paid for the next month in full. Regarding gifts, you had both decided to exchange them when you returned, it would just be easier than lugging them to and from. So, after Sanemi did one last check to make sure all lights were off, everything was unplugged and the stove wouldn’t mysteriously ignite on its own, you were stepping into the hall and locking the door. You still had roughly five hours before encountering the rest of the Shinazugawa family, but that didn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach as you pressed the button for the ground floor. “You already look as if you’ll faint.” Sanemi laughed, nudging you with his shoulder and watching you quickly catch your balance. You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you gripped the handle of your suitcase tightly. “You’d feel the same if we were going to meet my family. You’re just lucky they are a flight away.” Sanemi couldn’t deny it, the very thought made his stomach turn as the elevator doors opened. “Touché”.

The next thing you knew, you were boarding the train. “I texted my Ma and told her we’re on our way.” He seemed giddy, the grin on his face was that of an excited little kid. You couldn’t help but smile as well, his excitement was contagious. “That's good!” you took the window seat, hand immediately reaching for Sanemi’s once he put your backpack in the overhead storage. Catching the train now meant you’d get to Sanemi’s hometown around ten in the morning. Then you could crash in his room after the breakfast Sanemi had assured you his mother would make. “She won’t be satisfied until we’ve gained a few pounds.” The thought warmed your heart, you just prayed you made a good impression on such a wonderful lady. There was one thing you weren’t aware of though, and it was the fact that Shizu practically knew you already. Simply because of how often Sanemi texted her gushing about you. Within three days of you two settling into your new relationship, he had excitedly texted her that he had a girlfriend. Shizu wasn’t all that shocked when he told her it was his roommate, she could tell from the first time he ever spoke about you that he liked you. His mother could read him better than anyone.

This time, it was different than any of the girls he had ever brought home. Most of them only lasted a few weeks before breaking things off and moving on. When Shizu asked him why, he would say things just weren’t clicking. But with you? It was something else entirely. She still thinks back on the phone call she received from Sanemi, shortly after meeting with you about the roommate request. “I finally found a good place with good rent, just out of my budget but this girl was looking for a roommate. I met with her a little while ago and she’s super nice. She said she would gladly let me take the room because we clicked right away. Her name is y/n, Ma she's so pretty and kind. I mean I don’t want to get ahead of myself but wow…” Shizu had been smiling the whole time he spoke, congratulating him softly as he continued to go on about you. It wasn’t until the two of you made things official that Sanemi actually sent her a picture of the two of you. He had been dying too for months now but he didn’t want to cross your boundaries or make things weird. Shizu had to admit, you were prettier than she could have ever imagined. She had painted such a pretty picture of you in her head based on the way Sanemi spoke about you. But the picture he had sent had actually made her gasp.

It was candid, you must have been laughing at something he said but your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked at him. Sanemi had already accumulated an entire album of candid shots of you, but you didn’t know that. “Earth to Sanemi?” you waved your hand in front of his face, laughing softly as he blinked back into reality. “Huh?” the train had already begun to move, the world flying past the window at rapid speeds. “You can lean on my shoulder if you’re that sleepy.” You laughed again, thumb brushing along his scarred knuckles. “No, no I’m fine. I was just thinking.” He confessed softly, cheeks turning a shade of pink as he looked at you. You noticed that look in his eyes, when his pupils seem to swallow the pale purple of his irises. “You’re daydreaming about me, huh?” you had a cheeky grin on your face as he groaned, he still couldn’t understand how you always caught him. “I was right, wasn't I?” you laughed softly, playing with his fingers as he nodded lamely. “You’re always on my mind, what can I say?”

You look away, making a fake gagging noise, Sanemi’s laughter reaching your ears as you turn to look at him again. “You’re such a sap.” You laughed, settling your head against his shoulder. “It’s all your fault.” He muttered softly, embarrassed just a bit by how soft you turned him. When it came to you, he could melt into a pile of mush over something as simple as you laughing at what he said. “I guess you’re right, I can’t help the fact that I’m so loveable.” You yawn, eyes scanning the surroundings that fly past. You could feel Sanemi’s shoulder shake as he laughed, a smile tugging on your face. Silence fell over the two of you as the train barreled towards your destination, it took him a minute to realize you had fallen asleep. “I guess you were running off of nerves.” He laughs softly, opening his phone camera to snap a photo of your cheek squished into his shoulder. He saved it to his album, smiling as he scrolled through the photos before quickly closing it and putting in one ear bud. “Looks like I’ll have a lot of time to myself.” He had a funny feeling you wouldn’t be waking up any time soon.

His assumption was correct, he was gently shaking you awake as the train approached the station. “We’re here.” He smiled down at you, at some point he had managed to shift your head from his shoulder down to his lap. You blinked awake, eyes scanning your surroundings as you tried to recall what was even going on. “You can sleep more once we get to my home, but for now, we’re about to stop.” Sanemi’s voice is soft, watching as realization dawns on your features and you go from lying down to sitting straight up in the blink of an eye. “W-we’re here?” You practically squeaked, the nervous butterflies turning into a frenzy as you realized within the next ten minutes you’d be meeting Sanemi’s mother. “Oh my god! Why did you let me fall asleep! I had no time to mentally prepare!” Your hands came up to hide your face, trying to collect yourself as you inhaled deeply. Sanemi just watched you with a smile, finding your nerves to be amusing. “You’re going to be perfectly fine, I swear.” The train finally stopped all together, jerking you slightly as the conductor came over the intercom to announce the stop and the doors opened at the end of each train car. “C’mon, just rip the bandaid.”

“Easier said than done…” You stood up, immediately feeling weighed down by dread as Sanemi pulled your backpack from the overhead storage and gave it to you. “You’ll be fine, you’ll be laughing at yourself in less than fifteen minutes when you realize how much you overreacted.” You wanted to believe he was right, but naturally your nerves wouldn't settle until you had met his family and settled in for the two week stay. You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly as he led you off the train with the rest of the passengers getting off at this stop. “Wait here and I’ll grab the suitcases.” You nodded, hand gripping the strap of your backpack as you tried to replicate the grounded comfort Sanemi’s hand offered you. Within two minutes he was strolling back to you, both suitcases wheeling behind him.”Here we are.” He gave the handle of yours to you, sighing softly as your hand reached for it shakily. “I’m gonna call my Ma real quick to let her know we’re here. I’m sure she is too but I don’t know where she could have parked.” You nodded, unable to formulate words as the dreaded anticipation built. It was no shock when you heard her pick up after one ring, her voice reaching your ears even over the bustling station.

Sanemi clicked his phone off a moment later. “She’s waiting out front.” He smiled at you, shoving his phone in his pocket so he could hold your hand. “I’m not even going to ask if you’re ready cause I know you’ll say no.” He teased you softly, pulling you along as you followed behind him just a step. Your eyes scanned the station around you, noting how many people seemed to be swamped with holiday gifts they were bringing to family. The holidays were a dreaded time to travel, you typically tried to avoid it, but you could make an exception for this. Especially when you had a boyfriend like Sanemi with you. The cold air outside hit you like a freight train, your hand squeezing Sanemi a little tighter as the train station crowd didn’t seem to disperse after exiting the building. Sanemi stopped for a moment, eyes scanning the curb until he spotted a familiar SUV, a car he deemed way too big for his short mom. But with all of his siblings, a car that size was necessary. “There she is.” He didn’t let go of your hand, rather he let his suitcase go for a moment so he could wave to her. That small detail made your heart flutter a bit, for a reason other than your panicked nerves.

Your throat seemed to go dry as the car door opened and a small woman jumped out of the car. “Sanemi! Y/N!” she called with a bright smile as the two of you walked towards her. “Ma! How are you?” Sanemi smiled, you let go of his hand so he could hug his mom. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Miss Shinazugawa.” You used both hands to clutch your suitcase now, waiting for her to let go of her son. “Please, call me Shizu, dear.” She beamed at you, leaving Sanemi to pull you into a tight hug. You jumped a bit but welcomed the embrace, motherly love was always comforting. “Oh, alright.” You smiled softly, your nerves melting just a bit as you hugged her back. “It’s freezing, let's get your stuff in the car and get you two home.” Shizu pulled away, hands coming up to hold your face with a gentle smile. Sanemi took the initiative, taking your things and putting them in the trunk, his mother opened the back door for you to get in before rounding the car and getting back in the driver seat. A moment later Sanemi was joining you in the back. “Away we go.” Shizu smiled, glancing at the two of you in the rear view mirror before pulling away from the curb and out to the street.

“I must prepare you two now, the kids are ecstatic to see the two of you. So please, y/n-dear, don’t be afraid to say you’re overwhelmed.” She laughed softly, you nodded a bit as Sanemi’s hand found your own. “I’ll try and be your human shield.” He laughed, “I’m sure Genya will be one too, he’s good at picking up on emotions and such, he’s also great at handling the little gremlins.” It was comforting to know that they thought far ahead for you, making it apparent they wouldn’t take any offense if you truly got overwhelmed. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind but I’m sure I'll be okay. Thank you for welcoming me so kindly, Shizu.” Her name still felt a bit awkward on your tongue but you felt rude to call her by anything else. “Of course dear, I’m very happy to have you here. It’s not often at all that Sanemi even brings home friends, nevermind such a beautiful girl like you.” Sanemi made a strangled noise of embarrassment as you laughed. “I’m not surprised, he’s never brought any friends back to our apartment.” You teased him, watching as his mouth dropped “Hey! Neither do you.” You shrug “I guess you’re right.”

Shizu was smiling, glancing back at the two of you in the mirror every so often. “So, what happened that the two of you finally realized your feelings for one another?” A question like that had you and Sanemi growing warm, glancing at each other quickly. “Oh, uhm… well…” Your face was burning by now, memories of that night flashing through your mind. “M-Ma a question like that is a bit much.” Sanemi didn’t sound upset, rather he sounded flustered. That gave away more than needed, making Shizu laugh in response. “Oh, I see.” her tone had your eyes squeezing shut, embarrassment forcing a laugh out of you. “I’m not one to judge, ya know. Regardless of how it happened… though I think I get what’s being implied, clearly your feelings for one another go a lot farther than physical.” Sanemi groaned out another “ma” before Shizu began to laugh. “You’re both adults, Sanemi, I’d be foolish to think you two haven’t gone a lot further.” This time you couldn’t help but look at Sanemi and laugh, his mother’s innocence and honesty was comforting. “Yeah, okay Ma we get it.” Sanemi’s ears were burning red, the smile on your face only making it worse because you clearly found this all to be amusing.

The rest of the car ride continued with easy going banter, before you knew it Shizu was pulling into the driveway of the Shinazugawa family home. “Feeling better?” Sanemi whispered to you softly as his mom got out of the car to pop the trunk. “Yeah, but I’ll feel even better after we get this over with.” You chuckled nervously, seeing one of his siblings peek through the front window before disappearing again. Sanemi kissed your cheek before getting out of the car, you did the same, helping Shizu with your bags as you moved up the driveway. As expected, your introduction to his six little siblings was nothing short of a whirlwind. Though you couldn’t lie, you enjoyed getting to know them over the dinner the mother made. Genya had been the easiest to talk to due to his age, but before you knew it, the youngest of the Shinazugawa siblings was sleeping soundly with his head on your shoulder as you watched a movie with them all. Sanemi sat beside you on the couch, watching his siblings fondly as they talked to you rather than watch the movie. You answered each question with such patience, your hand open because Koto had fallen asleep holding it. Shizu had joked that he was trying to steal his big brother’s girlfriend.

It was just past midnight when Genya took Koto from you, the other siblings had gone up to bed a few minutes prior. “It was really nice meeting you, y/n.” Geyna smiled, cheeks rosy because he still got a bit nervous around girls according to Sanemi. “It was lovely meeting you too, Genya. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you all.” Genya turned bright red, earning a laugh from Sanemi as he bid the two of you goodnight and carried Koto to his room. “Well, it’s been an eventful day, do you wanna go to bed?” Sanemi smiled, his arm slinging over your shoulder now that Koto wasn’t hogging you. “I’m beyond tired, so yeah, sleep sounds amazing.” You laugh, snuggling closer to him. It was honestly the opposite of getting up, instead you both settled further into the couch with the tv droning on in front of you. It didn’t take long before your hands wandered, your legs moving to drape over Sanemi’s as he turned to kiss you. The arm he had slung over your shoulder moved to rest behind your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You allowed him, of course, feeling mildly inappropriate for doing such a thing on the couch in the living room of his family’s home.

You pulled away the moment his hand gripped your thigh, chest heaving. “N-not here. What if one of your siblings or your mother walks down here?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, noticing the way the light from the tv still manages to reflect off of the ball of his piercing. “You’re right… but my bedroom wall is shared with another one of my siblings… this is really the only place we can be a bit loud…” he groans, getting off of you just a bit so he can look at you better. “I-I’d rather try and be quiet than get caught in the act.” You would be booking yourself a train ticket home if one of his little siblings saw you two being intimate. “Alright fine, but you better be quiet.” Sanemi smirks at you as he gets up, “oh that’s a bold statement coming from you.” You snorted, getting up and turning the TV off before following him upstairs to his room. You had seen it already since you took some time after dinner to unpack your clothes and put them in Sanemi’s dresser. There was nothing for you to investigate as you stepped inside, shutting and locking the door with a soft click as Sanemi flicked on his bedside lamp. “Genya usually sleeps with a noise machine, so as long as we put some background noise on too…”

Sanemi was already pulling his shirt over his head as he spoke, watching as you sauntered to the dresser to find something to sleep in… or rather, you were looking for something to put on in the morning. “Background noise? Don’t tell me you’re going to put on music, that makes it all the more obvious.” You laugh softly, pulling your shirt over your head and shamelessly unclipping your bra, no need for extra distractions. “No, not music but…” Suddenly white noise was blasting through a small speaker and you found yourself bursting into a fit of laughter. “How sexy” you choked, dropping your pants and underwear at the same time. “Oh I know. My best work yet.” He was standing, making his way over to you as he pushed his sweats down. Your eyes flickered lower, smirking when you realized he was already hard. “You’re relentless.” you breathe out, his hands clinging to your waist as he presses you to the dresser, kissing you deeply. Sanemi smiles against your lips, stepping out of his pants and boxers that have pooled at his feet. “You know you love it.” Hoarse, just above a whisper despite the blaring white noise filling the room. You don’t bother answering, rather you push him gently so you can drop to your knees below him.

Your hand gingerly grabs his base, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip as he braces himself on the dresser. “Fuck…” He chokes out, eyes flickering up to the mirror before him, mildly upset he can’t see past his waist. Just your head is visible as you begin to lick along his shaft. “Remember you have to keep quiet.” You shoot him a wink before enveloping the head of his cock, watching his head fall forward as he chokes on his own moans. You let your jaw go slack, taking half of him before pulling away, using the saliva that wet him as a lubricant. You pumped him steadily, running your tongue along his slit, collecting the salty precum that oozed from it. You had gotten to know him well enough over the last month and a half to know exactly what he enjoyed. Naturally that meant it didn’t take all that long before he was grabbing your hair a bit harshly and tugging you off of him, cheeks flushed red as he tried to calm down. “N-not yet.” he sighed, moving towards the bed and motioning for you to follow. “Sit down.” he commanded you gently, watching you crawl onto the bed and lay flat instead. He chuckled a bit before opening his bedside drawer. “I know we said we wouldn’t exchange any gifts until we got home, but I bought something with me…” You sat up now, eyes narrowing as he pulled out a small pouch.

“What the fuck.” you laughed, catching the small velvet pouch and opening it carefully. Inside was a pill shaped tongue ring, immediately you understood. Your face grew warm, mouth hanging open slightly as you plucked it out. “No you fucking didn’t…” You took it out of the even smaller plastic bag and twisted it until it began to vibrate. “Sanemi oh my fucking–” You instantly turned it off, looking at him utterly flabbergasted. “Oh I fucking did.” He pulled it out of your hand, moving over to the dresser so he could use the mirror and take out his current tongue ring to replace it with the vibrating one. “You’re evil.” you groaned, body reacting tenfold to the idea of what was to come. He could only huff out a laugh as he stuck his tongue out, twisting the vibrating stud into place. “You’ll have to be very quiet.” He smirked, wiping the saliva off of his fingers. “You planned this…” You couldn’t believe it, not even as he crawled onto the mattress and pressed you backward until your head hit the pillows. “Oh of course I did, think of it as a reward for doing so well today, I’m proud of you, you know.” Your brows furrowed. “I appreciate it but this is such a strange time to get sentimental.” You watched his shoulders shake as he laughed, head burying in your neck to kiss it softly. He wouldn’t leave any hickeys in plain sight, at least not while you were staying here.

“Can’t help it.” He muttered between each kiss he placed, not getting rougher until he hit your chest. Your hands immediately grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he bit down on your breast. You had come to learn that you enjoyed the pain it brought, along with the satisfaction of his teeth indents remaining for a couple days. He lapped at the skin he bit, kissing it gently as he moved to flick your nipple with his tongue. Part of you was tempted to say foreplay wasn’t needed, sucking him off as well as the revelation of his “present” were enough to have you dripping for him. “You know, we have to be careful because there is really no way to explain why we needed to immediately change your bedding after one night.” One hand moves up to thread itself through his hair while his tongue drags its way over to your other breast. Sanemi only hummed in agreement, debating whether or not he should turn the vibrating piercing on now while he teased you or let your anticipation build until the last second. In the end he decided to wait, you should get to experience it first hand where you wanted it most.

When he was satisfied with the markings he left on your chest, Sanemi placed another kiss on your lips before moving down to settle himself between your legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down in fear of the noises you knew you’d make, so you kept your eyes trained on the ceiling, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come. Sanemi’s tongue lapped at your inner thighs, pleased to see your arousal had already managed to smear across them. “You’re so excited, how cute.” It was so soft you barely heard it, but you still felt the need to find grounding in the sheets below you. You gripped them tightly, bracing yourself for the “final blow” of sorts. He cleaned you gingerly before placing open mouth kisses over your folds, eyes trained on the rise and fall of your chest as his tongue just barely swept across your cunt. He repeated these motions a couple of times, until your thighs spread further in an attempt to give him more. “Okay, pretty girl…” He gave you a slight warning before sticking his tongue out, twisting one end of the pill shaped tongue ring until it began to vibrate. Your breathing hitched at the sound, just audible enough to be heard through the white noise you had going.

Sanemi found the sensation to be a bit odd, his whole tongue felt like it was vibrating due to the small object. Though, it excited him at the same time, hands moving to hold your legs open as he carefully placed his mouth over your clit. His eyes remained locked on you as he pressed his tongue against your throbbing cunt. Your hand immediately smacked over your mouth as you gasped and moaned at the same time, the vibrations going straight through your body. When he didn’t move his tongue, you began to squirm, hand pressing tightly to your mouth as muffled moans and whimpers clawed their way out of you. Sanemi waited until he felt like you were about to come before pulling his tongue away and eagerly lapping at the rest of your cunt, purposely avoiding your clit until you were getting wetter with each pass of his tongue over your entrance. Your hand never let go of the sheets, nor did your other hand ever leave your mouth. Your thighs trembled at certain points with the effort of trying to close but Sanemi’s grip alone proved to be stronger than your trembling effort. It wasn’t until tears were leaking down your cheeks, your head tossed back as your moans grew louder even behind the muffling of your hand, that Sanemi gave in and paid more attention to your clit.

“I-I’m gonna… f-fuck.” You repeated the last word over and over, the build up in your gut growing almost too intense to handle as he pressed the pill shaped piercing directly on your clit and kept it in place. The vibrations paired with the wet warmth of his mouth proved to be a lethal combination. You nearly reached for the pillow behind you to muffle the loud sobs that wracked your body as you came on his tongue. Sanemi didn’t move away immediately, holding it in place still as the overstimulation grew to be almost painful. You began to sob, begging him in a voice just above a whisper to ease up but he didn’t. Your legs trembled, unable to fight against him considering he was far more stable than you were right now. After an agonizing few seconds, the overstimulation turned to pleasure again, your cunt twitching violently as a second orgasm arrived from the shockwaves of your first. You swore louder than you should have, stars spotting your vision as you came hard for the second time. “S-Sanemi please I’m fucking serious y-you…” But you couldn’t finish the sentence, not when he started wiggling his tongue before moving it away to lap up all the juices you had spilled.

The piercing was still vibrating as Sanemi’s tongue licked along your cunt, giving your clit a break as he teased you in other areas. You were breathing heavily as he used two fingers to spread you open, making it more accessible to push his tongue inside of you. While it couldn’t reach nearly as deep as his dick, the vibrations were making up for it. Your jaw immediately clenched, struggling desperately to keep the noises down as he began tongue fucking you. Your vision was growing blurry from the way your eyes began to water, Sanemi’s name leaving your lips in a quiet mantra as you forced yourself to remain quiet when you really wanted to scream. Yet the idea of being caught seemed to egg Sanemi on, his mouth was relentless as he ate you out like it was his last meal. As if he was trying to break you, make you scream and wake up the whole house. You began to squirm further as two fingers slipped in along with his tongue, the feeling itself was utterly indescribable. Calloused fingers ran along your heated walls, scissoring and pumping until they brought out wave after wave of your arousal with them. You had barely noticed the fact that Sanemis tongue had pulled away all together, watching in fascination as arousal pooled below you on his bedding. So much for keeping it clean… he found it satisfying.

The realization that his mouth wasn’t on you didn’t hit you until it had returned to your clit, your back arching off the mattress momentarily as he flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. His fingers pumped endlessly, his tongue working in rhythm until you were slapping both hands over your mouth in effort to keep quiet as you came for a third time. Your body had gone completely stiff, back arching and your head tossed back as warm liquid gushed from between your thighs, only encouraged by Sanemi’s fingers. This time, Sanemi pulled away all together to give you a minute to come down. His fingers fumbled for a moment as he tried to turn off the small vibrating piercing, admiring the mess you had made on his bed. By the time your vision had returned to normal, you were looking up at Sanemi with lidded eyes. “You’re so evil.” Your voice is hoarse, hands shaking a bit as you push yourself up to see the damage. “Fuck…” Sanemi didn’t seem bothered at all, rather he was leaning down to crash his lips against yours, forcing you to taste your own arousal on his tongue. You moved closer, immediately drawn back into whatever trance he always managed to pull you into.

“How do you want me?” Sanemi sounded breathless as he pulled away, smiling down at you. “Like this please…” You turned away, positioning yourself shamelessly on your hands and knees for him. Sanemi groaned softly, he’d never get tired of seeing you like this, with nothing to hide or be ashamed of because it was just him. His hand immediately found his dick, pumping himself carefully to spread his precum, still a bit sensitive from the orgasm he had denied himself of early. His other hand came down to grip one side of your ass, kneading the flesh roughly. You whined loudly as the dull head of his cock pressed into you, your cunt welcoming him greedily with how wet he had made you. You chose this position strategically, pillows and his mattress were at your disposal to muffle your noises. Sanemi took his time, pushing inside of you inch by inch until your ass met his abdomen. It still took you a second to adjust, his head pressing tightly to your cervix, making you want to crawl forward a bit to relieve the pressure. Sanemi knew you well enough by now to hold your hip with his other hand, that way you couldn’t move. Sanemi is careful to not let his emotions get the better of him, you had done such a good job trying to remain quiet, now it was his turn to do the same.

He leaned forward, placing open mouth kisses down your spine before straightening again, hips drawing back half way before sliding forward again. He started slow, finding his rhythm in slow and deep thrusts. Your body rocks forward with each movement, until your shaky arms give out beneath you and you fall into the mattress. The position is even better in Sanemi’s eyes, his hands immediately grabbing either side of your hips to angle himself better. The slow drag was intoxicating to you, your mouth parted as quiet whimpers slipped past your lips, drool seeping out of the corner of your mouth as all your energy was focused on keeping your lower half up. Sanemi’s teeth sunk into his lower lip, face dusted pink as his head fell forward to watch himself disappear and reappear inside of you. You could feel him twitching, nearly in time with the way your body involuntarily clenched around him. Your whimpers turned into moans, half muffled by the way your face was pressed into the mattress, arousal dripping down your thighs. Sanemi was groaning despite his efforts to remain quiet, hips speeding up as his pleasure pulsed through him. He wasn’t going to last long at all but he wasn’t all that bothered by it.

“Sanemi…” You whined quietly, clit throbbing in need despite the stimulation you had been given. He caught on, hand snaking around your front and disappearing between your legs. You hissed as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it just as you had wanted him too but quickly reminded of how overstimulated you were. “Oh fuck…” You slurred, head burying in the mattress as you practically sobbed. Sanemi didn’t stop, biting down harder on his lower lip in effort to silence the noises he was making, but it was increasingly difficult with the noises emitting from you. The build up in your gut is becoming nearly unbearable, your hands clawing at the sheets as you cried out into the mattress below you. You came hard around him, walls stuttering around his length and interrupting his rhythm. Though it was the final push he needed, unable to contain himself as his hips drew half way out as he began to cum, shakily they pushed forward, bottoming out completely. His grip on your hips loosened, his muscles feeling like jelly as he moved to sit on his knees. You were pliant in his grasp, letting him guide you into a position that was comfortable for both of you until he felt like pulling out.

“We… we got carried away.” his tone is soft, for the first time since he turned it on, he noticed the white noise he was playing. You pulled your face from the mattress, shakily wiping your mouth as you tried to turn to look at him. “You think?” your voice is shaky, all you wanted was sleep at this point but there was one issue. “The bed is a wreck.” He comments softly, finally realizing how damp the comforter was beneath his knees. “That’s your fault, I warned you.” You grimace, there was no way you were going to be able to sleep feeling as sticky as you did. “You got me there…” he laughs softly, slowly pulling out as he goes soft. “I take full responsibility for giving you a good time.” You roll your eyes, body aching as you roll over and move to sit up. “I’m going to shower, you figure out the bed… and no joining me this time.” It had become a habit at this point for Sanemi to take care of the ruined bedding and then join you in the shower after. “Why not?” he whined, a pout forced on his lips as you glared at him. “May I remind you we are at your family’s home? With your mother and siblings?” You hissed, trying to remain serious but failing miserably when his cheeks turned pink. “Did you really forget that fast?”

“No! Shit okay maybe a little.” You roll your eyes, moving about the room to find something to cover yourself so you can walk down the hall to the bathroom. “Don’t forget to take out that piercing, it’s a bit obvious.” He laughs as you say that, watching as you throw his shirt over your head. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll take care of everything but if we aren’t sharing a shower, make sure you’re quick.” It was his last little dig to maybe convince you to let him join. Instead you just nod, uttering a quiet “You got it, captain.” before heading out the door. You make your way down the hall, wondering quietly how he would be able to get new bedding on the bed without raising suspicions from his mother in the morning.

Naturally, you figured it would be impossible and the small woman would tease you endlessly. The thought had heat rushing to your cheeks as you flicked the lights on and shut the door behind you. It took you a second but you managed to figure out the shower, setting it to a comfortable temperature before moving towards the bathroom closet. Sure enough, the closet was stocked with towels of various colors and some even had designs printed on them. That made you chuckle, especially when you noticed a few famous cartoon characters on some. How cute.

You pulled a towel out of the closet and set it on the bathroom counter, carefully pulling Sanemi’s shirt over your head and dropping it in the hamper. You had to admit, showering alone was quite lonely but it cut your time in half. You managed to scrub your skin clean, wash your hair and condition within fifteen minutes. By the time you stepped out and wrapped the towel around your body, Sanemi was knocking at the door. “Shit I wasn’t fast enough.” His tone was a whisper, making you laugh softly as you pulled the bathroom door open. “Better luck next time.” You pat his shoulder as you walk past him, ignoring his little huff as you re-enter his bedroom.

The bed was made with a new comforter, tucked half way down so you could just slip into it. You placed your towel on the dresser, moving to put on a t-shirt and underwear before towel drying your hair the best you could. You were practically throwing yourself down onto the bed, laughing softly when you realized the white noise was still playing. You managed to stay awake until Sanemi returned, hair damp as he went through his dresser to put on a pair of boxers. You watched with half lidded eyes as he placed the novelty piercing back in the back and put his regular one back in. “Do you want to keep the white noise on?” He looked amused as you nod.

Sanemi turned off the lights before crawling into bed beside you, chuckling softly as he realized how small the bed was compared to the one in your shared apartment. Not that you really minded, immediately rolling over to wrap your arms around his midsection lazily. Your legs tangled together, his arm snaking under your head while the other found its home over your waist. “What did you end up doing with your bedding?” you question softly, sleep pulling at your mildly aching body. “I put it in the wash, which may just be more damning for us in the morning but hopefully my Ma is the only one to catch on.” He chuckles softly, as you groan.

“What a great first impression.” you snort into his chest, unable to stop your smile when you feel his chest rumble under your cheek. “Oh please, you can do no wrong in her eyes, she loves you.” You couldn’t deny that, after less than a day being in her presence, Shizu was already like a mom to you. “I suppose you’re right.” You hum lazily, eyes closing as sleep drags you further down. “Good night, pretty girl.” Sanemi whispered softly, feeling your body relaxing into him. “G’night, lover boy.” just barely audible, as if your mind was working on autopilot. Sanemi smiled, eyes shutting as well, enveloped in the warmth you and his childhood bedroom had to offer.

6K notes · View notes

euthymiya · 5 months

Text

it always ends with i love you ft. wriothesley — in which you, a small floral shop owner, meet the duke of meropide by a chance encounter—and then you meet a bunch more too…but not so much by chance anymore

contains: 20.3k work count (please give it a chance i put my soul into it) ; female reader ; mature content—not suitable for minors ; strangers to friends to lovers ; flower shop au + florist reader ; reader has a small backstory regarding her dead father ; use of canon flowers and and lore, meaning i did my best so please be gentle on me with my botany facts ; heavy spoilers for wriothesley’s story quest and backstory, explores themes such as murder and hints at child exploitation and trafficking—all pertaining to his adopted home life ; slight oc’s because i gave a few of his adopted siblings names ; a fun neuvillette and clorinde appearance! ; a not so fun childe appearance + jealousy ; a short argument ; love confessions and getting together ; wriothesley is scared of love (anyone who had to kill their parents should be tbh) ; reader sits on his lap/lays on him ; there’s sex in every scene lol i got carried away—includes vaginal fingering ; cunnilingus ; nipple play ; hand + blow jobs ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie

the first time you meet wriothesley is by accident.

he doesn’t exactly come up to the surface regularly—he sees the sun frequently enough to remember what sunlight feels like if he tries to recall, but not enough that most people of fontaine would know he’s the duke of meropide just by looking at him.

he likes it that way. the duke is no small title, and he’d prefer the trip through the streets of the court without being stopped for idle chit-chat.

he doesn’t intend on stopping on his way to the palais, but you’re a bit of a unique circumstance.

he hears the smashing sound of something breaking before the scream, quickly glancing over his shoulder at the noise. nothing could have prepared him for a flower shop to be the source of such chaos—what could be chaotic about selling petals on a stem?

except you’re clumsily chasing after a man as he stumbles past your door, knocking over the potted plants on display in the process as you follow him.

the look of distress on your face as the pot falls and shatters compels him to investigate the scene. (of course, there’s a note of distress on your face before the pot falls, but the way it deepens when it does is almost criminal. your face is too lovely to have such creases in your forehead, even if he won’t admit as much out loud).

“stop! please,” you call, “you haven’t paid for those!”

thievery. wriothesley knows a thing or two about pocketing things that don’t belong to him.

first, it’s because he spends a portion of his life on the streets, surviving more than living. those moments reduce him down to a simple pocket thief at times. (he had standards for his crimes: never too much and only enough to survive for a bit. always from someone who dresses expensively and looks like they’re comfortable enough not to feel the damage to their wallets. and, of course, never from women).

second, it’s because people, on the streets or in the fortress, love to steal from those who are weak and vulnerable. people who are sleeping are of that classification of individuals, so wriothesley learns how to keep his things hidden and how to be a light sleeper. he’s never had too many things that are precious to him, of course, but he owns little enough that he’d notice his losses harshly should they come.

he hates thievery. partly because it reminds him of his past and the darkness that taints it, but mostly because it always involves someone innocent who doesn’t deserve to lose. not even a little.

his feet carry him over to the scene before he can stop himself—not that he would stop himself even if he did have control over his body, but it’s just that this particular circumstance seems to have him in some sort of trance. one that won’t allow him to look away from your face.

“please,” you follow the man past your shop’s door, “those are the last of my glaze lilies—i promised them in an order!”

the man running doesn’t seem to care about your pleas, snickering as he turns to give you an amused look, as if your distress is entertaining. he doesn’t make it far, though, before he bumps into a muscled chest.

“what the—”

wriothesley cuts him off, raising a brow. “i do believe the lovely lady here has asked for her flowers back. or did you miss that part?”

“and just who do you think you are, mister?” the man barks, glaring wriothesley up and down. (it’s a bit funny, considering he’s much shorter, so it takes a tad bit of effort on his part to give wriothesley the menacing once over it’s meant to be). “i don’t remember asking you what she asked.”

“oh me?” wriothesley cracks his knuckles casually, shrugging as he says, “duke of meropide at your service. i must say, i’m not very popular around here—not a lot of people know me, it seems.”

your jaw drops. the man’s face pales—which is a nice confirmation, at least, that he does have some sort of a brain.

“w-what? and just why would i believe that? you expect me to think the fortress’s duke is just prancing around the streets as if he hasn’t got duties? as if!”

wriothesley’s lips quirk up at the edges as he hums, fishing through the pocket of his shirt before he pulls out an envelope, sealed with the stamp of the iudex himself. there’s writing on it in clear letters, bold and italicized, as if just to mock the man.

to: duke wriothesley

from: iudex neuvillette

“that clear things up for you?” wriothesley asks, traces of a cheeky glint in his eyes as he raises a brow.

instantly, the man is clasping his hands, head bowing as a string of incoherent apologies flows past his shaky lips. “i-i’m sorry! i’ve never done anything like this before, you can check! my records are clean! i-it was a moment of weakness, but it won’t happen again, sir. p-please don’t take me to monsieur neuvillette. or court. or—”

“your first thieving gig, and you picked flowers?” wriothesley snorts, “i almost don’t want to bring you to court just save myself from the embarrassment.”

the man flushes, bashfully shrinking as he mumbles, “w-well i just…i just wanted to get flowers for my girlfriend for our anniversary and these…th-they’re her favorite you know? b-but they’re hard to come by since liyue is so far and…and the lady wouldn’t sell them to me so…you know…i uh…” the man trails off, wilting as wriothesley’s stares down, unimpressed. “i promised her i’d get them,” he adds, as if it’ll help.

“what a tragic sob story you got there,” wriothesley deadpans. “your girlfriend must love your honesty.”

“if i may interrupt,” you call from behind, making both men glance over to where you stand some distance away.

wriothesley forgot you were there, truthfully. but now that he’s taking in your appearance up closer, he can’t help but appreciate it. your features complement each other well—like an assortment of carefully arranged flowers, hand-picked one by one by celestia themselves.

“hello miss,” he nods, raising a hand to half-wave at you, “don’t worry, i’ll get this man out of your hair in a moment with your flowers too. just give me a sec—”

“no,” you say softly, “no it’s okay. he can keep some of them…i’m sure i can make do with a shorter hand than usual.”

he blinks. you couldn’t have possibly offered to let your thief keep his earnings at your expense, could you? he can’t decide if you're just that naive, just that foolish, or truly just that kind.

maybe all three, if he’s being honest.

“uh…are you sure?” he tilts his head in disbelief, “you want to let him keep the flowers?”

“partially,” you confirm, “it’s alright. everyone deserves flowers on their anniversary. especially their favorite.”

wriothesley decides you’re just that kind—and in some ways, it’s worse than being a bit on the naive side. at least you can sharpen yourself to become untrusting and skeptical if naivety gets you in trouble. kindness is as easy to take advantage of as it is to take for granted, and it’s not just something people like you can turn off like a switch.

“oh, thank you!” the man exclaims as soon as the words come out of your mouth, not wasting a second to grin at you as he says, “you’re really so kind! if you’d just tell the duke here that it was all a misunderstanding and that you’d like to drop all charges, then i’ll be on my way with partial the flowers—”

“make no mistake,” your hands find your hips as your face hardens with a certain strictness even he’s a bit startled by, “if you should come here and cause trouble again, i have the duke’s word to press double the charges next time. i would tread carefully if i were you—don’t ever let me catch you stealing from me again.”

wriothesley stares at you and gapes. he’s sorely mistaken about you—kindness is not the absence of your spitefulness, and the man shrinks back as you stare down at him expectantly.

“o-of course,” he says quickly, “it won’t happen again.”

“good,” you nod, “that’ll be five hundred mora, please.”

“b-but—”

“is there a problem?” you raise a menacing brow, making the man scramble to shake his head.

“wow,” wriothesley snorts as the man scampers off after fishing enough mora from his pockets, “i suppose i underestimated your ability to handle the situation, miss.”

“i think i owe a good portion of my success to you, your grace,” you bow your head slightly, unable to meet his eyes as you nervously chuckle, “i don’t usually have robberies. the people in this area are familiar with me. they’re quite kind—i’ve never had someone as stubborn as him.”

“well, rest assured, if he bothers you again, you can come to find me for my word at court.”

“i’ll hold onto the offer,” you grin.

that chance meeting becomes history after a while. he comes and pays you a visit every time he’s at the surface, which isn’t all too often, but often enough that you start to look forward to at least one routine visit per month. sometimes, he teases you about whether or not you’ve had new thieves pay you a visit. other times, you make use of his strong hands and built muscles and cheekily order him around to move heavy bags of fertilizer around.

he likes tea, you learn—he takes a very piqued interest in the jars of dried petals you keep on shelves, ones you tell him are good for making blends for tea, or to boil with water for natural remedies, or to make syrups for beverages like lemonade. it’s a slow, steady, blossoming friendship until, all at once, you feel incomplete without the routine visit from the fortress’s warden. you’re too reliant on the familiarity of explaining flowers, their origins, what stories they share, and what they mean—and likewise, you feel incomplete without his stories from the fortress, what the inmates are up to, and what changes he’s developing to make things better for the people under his wing.

you like to think he feels the same way; otherwise, he wouldn’t come around as much as he does.

sometimes he walks you home, and sometimes you invite him for tea. you drink coffee, but you don’t mind the trouble of brewing two beverages if it means some extra time with him in your cozy little home.

like today, where he sits comfortably at your dining table while you cut fresh bulle fruit as tea steeps in the hot water. he watches you with fond eyes, listening as you ramble intently about your recent endeavors at your flower shop.

“—and i think i’ve finally managed to grow a cactus from sumeru long enough to bloom my own henna berries,” you grin, looking at him brightly, pride settling into the crinkles of your eyes, “it did take some trial and error—fontaine rains far too often for cacti to survive, but this one i managed to grow indoors.”

“couldn’t you just get the berries delivered from sumeru? since you have plenty delivered from there already,” he asks in amusement. you huff, rolling your eyes as you walk over, setting the platter of fruit down before him.

“of course, you’d want to take such a simple route—but plants are far more rewarding when you grow them yourself, you know. plus, every fruit i’ve managed to grow on my own here in fontaine has had a bit of a unique flavor as opposed to ones grown from their original nation. i’d like to see if that’s the case with these berries, too.”

“well, if that’s the case,” he hums, taking a slow sip from the tea you’ve brewed for him—it’s perfectly made to his liking, with two sugar cubes and piping hot just as you’ve learned he prefers. he closes his eyes and lets out a content sigh as the warmth trickles down his throat. “let me try one when they’re ready.”

“of course,” you brighten excitedly, as though the prospect of someone to share such a moment with is one you look forward to. there’s something that tickles in his chest, right beneath his ribcage, at the sight of your wide grin.

you chatter until the sun sets, warm, honeyed rays of orange and pink pouring through your windows and painting his skin vibrant hues. it’s about time for him to leave—you can tell even before he clears his throat and stands, grabbing the plate and mug and heading to the sink.

“i should go,” he says kindly, washing the dishes with so much familiarity that it almost feels domestic and natural to have him here. you shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it enters your head. “thank you for having me this evening.”

“oh, i think we’re past the formalities,” you huff a small laugh, “you’re doing my dishes.”

“technically they’re my dishes,” he chuckles, “since i did dirty them.”

you hum, walking over to where he stands as he turns the faucet off—until a small twist of your ankle has you gasping as you stumble forward. you brace yourself for the impact of the hardwood floor, but instead, you’re met with a firm yet soft chest as strong arms wrap around your waist and catch you before you can fall.

“oh,” you breathe as you open your eyes, staring into him with just as widened pupils as him.

“are you okay?” he asks quietly, voice just barely audible as he whispers to you—he’s so close, so painfully close, you think the only reason you heard him was because of the proximity.

“yeah,” you nod. it’s hardly a nod, really—if you were to move your head too much, you’d risk brushing your nose against his. or maybe even your lips. “i’m fine. thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” his eyes are still trained on yours, and neither of you can find it in yourselves to pull away. you can’t, and he definitely doesn’t, and nothing seems to give as you stare at each other. you’re pressed against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, and there’s a strange beating in both of your chests that you think you can just barely make out.

they almost seem to beat in sync, rapid and untamed. so, so fast, you wonder if it’s even healthy.

you don’t know who does it first—or maybe it was the both of you. all you know is that one second, you’re staring at each other, and the next, your heads are tilted so that your lips meet tentatively. he hesitates at the first brush of your lips, but your hands cup his cheeks and pull him forward, making his eyes flutter shut as he shakily breathes into your mouth. it’s so slow, so dizzyingly slow, that you wonder if time has just stopped altogether to grant you a moment with no interruptions.

he fits perfectly against you, the soft flesh of his cheeks spilling over your palms, your thumb rubbing affectionately into the skin as he nips at your lips, kissing you like he’s waited his whole life to feel you. the curves of his mouth connect with the curves of yours like pieces of a puzzle, like he was carved to match you from the same stone.

you’re not sure how long you kiss like that, but slowly, it grows needier, more quick and hasty as your hands leave his cheeks to wander to his hair and gently tug at the strands as his hands wander to your waist and lower back, feeling every curve of you as he groans into your mouth.

he tries to pull away, but you chase after him, unwilling to let go.

“w-wait,” he mumbles, “maybe we should stop—”

“you really want to?” you ask breathlessly, and all it takes is one glance down at your glossy, swollen lips for him to close his eyes and shiver.

“no,” he admits hoarsely, “i don’t. are…are you sure about this?”

“yes,” you whisper instantly.

he doesn’t waste a moment, quickly pulling you into your bedroom as you both collapse on the mattress. you climb onto his lap, crotch pressing against the semi-hardened erection in his pants, the press of your heat against his bulge earning a low, drawn-out groan from him that shoots straight to your clit with a dull ache.

“sweetheart,” he says in between kisses, making you inhale sharply at the pet name, “you’re killing me here.”

“okay,” you smile against his mouth, pecking it sweetly before you add, “then let me do something about that.”

he doesn’t expect you to drop down between his legs, face to face with the obvious tent in his pants—wriothesley is a gentleman, a giver before he is a taker. his first instinct is to protest as he opens his mouth and starts to say, “hang on—you don’t have to—”

“i want to,” you pout, looking up at him, “please? i want to.”

when was the last time someone looked up at him like that, staring up at him like pleasing him is the only way they’ll survive? he doesn’t recall, doesn’t think it’s ever happened, in fact. he groans, head falling back against your bed frame as he nods slowly.

“okay,” he concedes, lifting his hips up so you can pull his pants down his legs, leaving him in his boxers. there’s a wet patch where his tip meets the cloth, the evidence of pre cum drooling from his swollen head that makes you hum in satisfaction as you leave a tender kiss on the spot through the fabric. he gasps, hips jolting as his thighs clench at the teasing touch.

“can i?” you purr, hand rubbing soothingly over his tense thigh as he swallows and nods, looking anywhere but at you as he breathes harshly.

“y-yes,” he grunts, “please.”

you’re freeing his cock as soon as he utters the plead, letting him spring free and meet the cool air. he hisses, gritting his teeth as his chest rises and falls erratically, labored breaths that he tries to use to calm himself as he stands painfully hard between his legs.

“pretty,” you murmur, entranced at the sheer size of him—he’s flushed an almost painful red at his thick tip, leaking enough pre cum that you’d think he might have already had his release with the way it runs down the side of his hardened length.

your hand wraps gently around the tip, thumb smearing the pre cum along the tip before coating the rest of his cock, using it as lubrication for the steady stroke of your hand along the girth. he throws his head back, groaning as his hips buck into your touch before he stops himself, frantically trying to keep himself still and let you take your time.

“f-fuck,” he rasps, “that…that feels nice.”

“yeah?” you breathe, smiling as you press a kiss to his thigh as he chokes on a grunt while your hand slowly pumps him. “am i doing it right?”

“you’re doing just fine,” he assures, biting his lip as he finally can’t keep himself from bucking impatiently into your fist any longer, “feel free to do more, though.”

you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lip before gliding your tongue through his slit and watching as he melts against your bed frame at the gesture, body loosening up like he’s limbless as you slowly take him into your mouth, swallowing around his cock and bobbing your head, pumping the rest with your hand that you can’t fit down your throat.

“shit,” he curses, hand cupping the back of your head as he guides you up and down his length, moaning your name when you swirl your tongue around the tip, “you…you’re so good at this, yeah? take me so well in that pretty mouth of yours.”

you hum around him, making him cry out at the vibrations around his cock, one hand running through his hair as he tries to keep himself grounded, the other still cradling the back of your head. he’s a gentleman, though, living up to one just as much as he always lets on to be when he doesn’t force you to take more of him by pushing your head down or burying himself deeper into your throat by fucking his hips into your mouth. he lets you do things at your own pace, and you think it’s enough when you feel the telling signs of his release as his panting grows harsher and his cock twitches in your mouth.

“w-wait, wait,” he says frantically, “i’ll cum—i’ll cum. not yet, not until i have you.”

you reluctantly pull away, a trail of spit connecting from your lips to his tip that makes him close his eyes and groan, clenching his jaw as his near-orgasm dies down to nothing again. his cock is achingly hard, hot and swollen and throbbing after denying himself for the sake of feeling you.

“c’mere,” he motions for you to climb onto his lap. you do, sitting on his thigh as he slowly trails a thumb under your shirt, rubbing the skin with a feather-light, heated touch that has you shivering against him. “you sure you want this?”

“i want it,” you whisper, leaning to press a kiss to his lips that he reciprocates with a low hum of approval, “with you.”

“such a sweet way with words,” he murmurs, slowly pulling your blouse over your head and unclasping your bra, tossing them to the side as he marvels at the view of your tits. “such a sweet view, too. beautiful.”

you flush at the praise, looking away. but his hands grab at your breasts, large as they cup them and massage lightly, thumbs running over the pert nipples as you shudder and breathe out a light gasp.

“wriothesley, need more—”

“give me a moment,” he shushes you, “and then i’ll give you what you want.”

he admires you like that for a bit, sat on his thigh as your eyes flutter shut and his thumbs tease your nipples, wetness pooling in your core that he can feel on his thigh—you’d be embarrassed, you really would, but it’s not as though his cock is any less leaky at the head.

finally, he inhales sharply, sitting up slightly to unbutton his shirt, revealing the scars down his chest before he helps you out of your pants. you stare at the harsh, jagged lines that pain his skin, raised, discolored skin, the only evidence of some brutal, vicious past that he survived.

your thumb traces down the lines, making him shiver at the fragileness behind the touch.

“where’d you get this?” you murmur, staring at him curiously.

“hmm? oh the scar on my body? it's from a gash i got while battling a gigantic undersea monster that tried to take over the fortress of meropide…” he stares at you cheekily as you blink, looking at him unimpressed. “hah, just kidding.”

“do you ever take anything seriously?” you shake your head and huff, but there’s endearment on your face as you fight back a smile.

“on the contrary, milady,” he murmurs, grabbing your hips and pulling you back slightly, exposing your drenched cunt before he slowly sinks two fingers into your folds and curls them against the back of your walls, “i take this quite seriously.”

you gasp at the feeling, his digits rubbing against your walls and angling to hit a sensitive, achingly sweet spot at the back of your cunt. it’s precise, the way he pumps his fingers into you, slowly sinking in a third digit while you mewl and throw your head back. the heel of his palm catches against your clit, the sweet friction building your orgasm up slowly, slowly, until suddenly, you’re near the edge all at once.

“c’mon, don’t hold back now,” he drawls, voice low and sweet and so attractive, you feel like the sound of him alone is enough to send you tumbling over the edge, “why don’t you be a sweet little thing and let go for me, hm?”

you do—instantly, you do, crying out his name is choked garbles as he works you through your orgasm with his fingers, still thrusting into you with a precise pace. finally, when you’re done clenching around him, he pulls his digits out, the slickness of your pussy coating them as he hums in satisfaction.

“think you’re ready?” he asks softly, cradling the back of your head with his good hand as he pulls you closer, “or do you need one more from me?”

“i’m ready,” you huff impatiently, “i need you, need to feel you already.”

“okay, okay,” he laughs, amused but not anymore patient himself as his cock pulses between his legs, “i’m not trying to wait any longer, either. do you have a…uh…y-you know…”

you snort at the way he trails off awkwardly, flushing at the thought of asking for a condom as if he’s not completely nude under you. “no,” you giggle, pinching his cheek as he huffs, “but we don’t need one. it’s fine.”

“okay,” he nods slowly. his hands grab at your hips, firm yet so gentle with the way they lift you up and guide you to angle over his swollen cock, slowly helping you sink down on him as he chokes on a grunt when his head pushes past your folds.

you gasp as soon as he intrudes into your tight hole, splitting you open on his thick girth as you take him inch by inch until you’re sat on his lap completely, buried completely with his length as his jaw clenches at the tight squeeze of you around him.

“wri—wriothesley,” you sob brokenly, unable to say anything else besides cracked repeats of his name. he’s so big, buried so deep, and leaving you so full, you’re not sure if you have it in you to fuck onto him from this position.

he takes things into his own hands, though—roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you back before helping you sink back down on him again, rolling his own hips upward to bury deeper into you. your head spins, and all you can think to do is weakly plant your hands onto his shoulders before you roll your hips, grinding down on his length and sloppily fucking yourself onto him.

he bullies past your folds, curves deliciously into the most intimate parts of you, fat tip slamming against the soft, sensitive spot that makes you see white. pleasure burns up your spine, building a coil in your belly that grows tighter, tighter, tighter—so close yet so far from snapping and letting you plummet into your second release.

“that’s it,” he grunts, “fuck—you’re so tight, so good. i’ve…i’ve never felt anything so good. it’s like you were made for me, weren’t you? take me so well, fit around me so well.”

his hand moves to your clit, thumb pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing merciless circles against it as you mewl, head burying into his neck as your nails claw at his shoulder. everything is so good—so hot and filthy and leaves you impatiently desperate for some form of release. the friction of his cock dragging along every ridge leaves your mind hazed, and the harsh press of his tip against your sweet spot leaves your vision blurry.

you’re not sure how you even have the strength to rock yourself onto his stiff length, but somehow you manage, and he seems keen on helping you, too, with rough, bruising hands that grip your waist with a punishingly tight grasp.

“c-can’t hold on much longer,” you cry, voice a strangled sob that’s muffled into his skin, “i’m s-so close. please.”

“me too,” he pants, voice just as strained as yours as he moans through a cracked voice when you clench down on his particularly tightly, “me too, sweetheart. i’m right there with you, alright? let go—c-c’mon.”

once more, you cum around him—this time on his cock instead of his fingers, and if the first time felt good, the second time is devastating. your vision practically goes white as your walls spasm around him, slick and dripping with your release and mixing with his own as he follows you not long after. his cock jolts, pumping hot, sticky ropes of his seed deep into you, and both of your bodies are slumped against one another as you barely roll your hips, sloppy pace with no rhythm as you focus on getting yourselves through the ecstasies of your orgasms.

his thumb is still pressing against your clit, and your hands have left his shoulders to bury into his sweaty hair, tugging fiercely at the dark strands and making him groan at the mix of pain and pleasure.

finally, you both ride out the final few waves, him slumping against your bed as you fall against his sturdy chest, face still buried into his neck. sweat clings to your skin, but you don’t mind the feeling of his damp skin against yours, not when the warmth of your body makes the afterglow feel so sweet. your fingers thread through his hair, soothing over his scalp with the rake of your nails where you’d just tugged so harshly, and his palms glide up and down your hips, rubbing gentleness back into the parts where he dug bruises along the skin.

“wait, is that watering can supposed to be a dog?” he asks out of the blue, making you lift your head and look over your shoulder.

“yes,” you quirk a brow, watching as he lets out a small snort as he looks at the watering can by your plants in wonder.

“it’s pretty ugly.”

“rude!” you gasp, pulling away slightly as he shakes under you in laughter, “i think it’s adorable!”

“do you now?” he bites his lips, attempting to suppress the smile that threatens to take over, “you have…interesting taste.”

“oh, you’re dead to me,” you spit dramatically, collapsing back against his chest as you bury your head into his neck again. “dead to me, i say.”

“my apologies,” he snickers. his hand rubs slowly into your hip, quietly humming for a moment before he asks, “what made you so passionate about plants?”

“i can’t just really like them?” you challenge.

“sure,” he shrugs, eyeing the watering can again as he smiles, “but you don’t give the impression that you just happen to just really like leaves, and that’s it.”

“there’s more to plants than leaves,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. and then, much gentler this time, “my father was a scholar from sumeru. an herbologist.” your voice is a quiet murmur, a low hum as you speak into his neck while his hands are still rubbing into your hips, “i used to be fascinated by his journals and all the plants he’d seen. he died when i was young, so sometimes…sometimes i try to grow them here in fontaine myself. just to feel close to him.”

“do you?” he asks quietly, staring at the various plants that decorate your small home. it’s cozy, he thinks, so lively and warm that it almost doesn’t feel like you’re the only inhabitant. “do you feel close to him when you do?”

“if it works,” you admit, “it’s not always easy to recreate the same conditions they’re meant to grow in.”

“i think you do an impressive job,” he praises, earning a slow smile from you that he can feel curve into his skin, “i’ve yet to come across a flower shop in fontaine with as much variety as yours.”

“you flatter me, your grace,” you chuckle, pulling away as you stare at him, the tousled hair from where his hand ran through, the swollen bottom lip where his teeth sank in, the flushed skin where heat settled. you take all of it in slowly, admiring him as he looks up at you through lidded eyes.

“do i? i meant it seriously, not in flattery,” he raises a brow and smirks, “if i wanted to try flattery on you, i think i’d have some other choice words.”

“don’t be so insatiable,” you gently swat at his chest, earning a chuckle from him. “will you be able to stop by tomorrow?”

“i’m afraid not,” he sighs, “i have a meeting with some people from the palais tomorrow at the fortress. it’ll run a bit late.”

“oh,” you try to hide the disappointment in your voice, but he seems to sense it instantly. “that’s okay. i just had a blend i thought you might like to try—for tea, that is. it’s um…i dried the petals myself, and it’s new. i thought i’d let you be the first to try it to let me know what you think.”

you try not to giggle at the way he perks up at the mention of tea.

“ah, i’m afraid i won’t have time tomorrow. but…” he coughs, trailing off as he looks away, contemplating his words.

“but…?” you press.

“but…well, i have a few guards returning tomorrow from the surface from a few tasks i gave them. i could have them stop by the shop to escort you down to the fortress if that works for you…it’s okay if you can’t, though! i can always come by sometime this week when my duties aren’t as—”

“that sounds nice,” you cut him off, grinning widely, something close to excitement blooming across your features, brighter than any set of petals in your shop, he thinks. “you can give me an official tour of the fortress, perhaps. i’ve only ever heard about it through stories.”

“as you wish, my lady,” he winks.

he leaves not too long after—you try not to focus on his lingering scent in your sheets once you settle back in after bidding him goodbye. it’s oddly peaceful, being surrounded by him even when he’s not there, and sleep lulls over you quicker than usual.

the scent is faded by the time you wake up, so you take one last deep breath to inhale it before you set off to get ready for the day, counting down the hours before you get to see him again.

——————————

as promised, a group of fortress guards stop by your shop, politely waiting for you to close up before you join them on their return.

the fortress is darker than you expected—but not at all as small as your mind anticipated. in fact, it’s huge. you follow the guards, making idle chatter as they take you up an elevator, up, and up, and up—until finally, you finally arrive on the floor of his office.

you’re so busy taking in all you can of the fortress that by the time they escort you to his office door, you remember why you’re here in the first place. to bring wriothesley dried petals of sweet flowers that you grew yourself—flowers often make for a wonderful tea blend, and learning his passionate liking for the drink makes you feel compelled to share with him every one of the various floral teas you’ve learned about in your time as a florist.

you knock on the door of his office—except, oddly enough, there’s more than one voice you can make out from the room. you didn’t think his meeting would still be in session by the time you arrived, making you anxiously regret the knock as soon as your knuckles leave the surface of the door.

but he answers before you can think too much of it. “come in,” his voice calls.

“your grace,” you hum, stepping in, “if this is a bad time, then i can…”

you trail off. both fontaine’s chief justice and champion duelist stand in his office, gathered around his desk as he sits and sifts through files. of course, wriothesley is a duke, which is no small title by any means, but you’re caught more than a little off guard as you step in and share the room with two of fontaine’s more important figures in the justice system.

“no,” he says casually, “come in, you’re right on time. i was just telling miss clorinde about the delicious tea blend you would bring for her to try. she couldn’t wait a moment longer.”

“if you want to try it so badly, just say so,” she rolls her eyes.

“fine,” he huffs, lips curling into a slight pout, “i’d like to try the tea you promised me. clorinde will pass, though.”

“i think i’ll try it, as well,” she chimes in, suppressing a smile as wriothesley crosses his arms.

“but you just said—”

you giggle, walking over as you hand him the bag with dried petals, grinning at the amusing dynamic, and murmur, “i believe it would be the polite thing to do if you made an extra cup for the madam while making yours.”

“picking her side, are we? such an act of betrayal won’t be forgotten,” he huffs. still, almost as excited as a child opening a present, he opens the bag to add the petals to the tea maker he keeps at his desk. you watch with fondness at the action. “you still owe me a present, by the way. and tea won’t do—i’ve just received a batch.”

“then i suppose i can gift you a new tie,” clorinde hums, eyeing the loosened tie around his neck and making him furrow his brows as he subconsciously straightens it, “something that fits your neck better so you look a bit more put together.”

it’s almost like she sees through the both of you, eyeing between you and him with a hint of a knowing glint in her eyes. wriothesley scowls, giving her a petulant glare.

“there’s nothing wrong with my tie. i look just fine.”

“i do believe it’s a stylistic choice,” neuvillette pipes up from the side, “it doesn’t seem to be an issue with the tie itself.”

you snort at the way the joke flies over his head. “you’re right, monsieur,” you join in the banter, “i do believe his grace has a rather…unique choice of style.”

“i wonder if he ever plans to properly wear the coat he always seems to keep hanging over his shoulders,” clorinde adds, the earlier grin she attempted to fight back now fully curled into her lips. you laugh, much to wriothesley’s dismay.

“perhaps he just values being prepared,” you hum, “one can never tell when the fortress will suddenly be too cold. someone as busy as the duke surely can’t afford the wasted time to go and fetch a coat.”

“ah,” she nods, “i suppose you’re right. he is too busy learning legal codes as of late.”

“i take it that my gift has been useful, then?” neuvillette brightens, turning to a miserable wriothesley as he rubs his temples wearily.

“most helpful,” he sighs, not bothering to explain to the iudex that he’s once more missed the point of the joke.

“oh, we’re only joking,” you laugh, taking the tea cup sitting at his desk and pouring him a glass of the now freshly brewed tea, “it’s all in good fun, your grace.”

“wriothesley is just fine,” he mumbles, “as you can see, this isn’t a very…formal meeting.”

he watches as you carefully make his cup, one sugar cube as opposed to his usual two—before he can point it out, however, you beat him to it. “i know you’re particular about your tea. i can see it on your face you’re about to insist i give you two, but this is a very sweet blend as it is. one will suffice.”

“careful when it comes to his tea,” clorinde warns, “he’ll be in a foul mood all day if it doesn’t live up to his standards.”

“not true,” he grumbles. as if to prove a point, he takes a sip, slowly blinking before he looks at you with an awed grin, “it’s lovely. you’re right, it is just perfectly sweet with one cube.”

“perhaps you’re the only person he won’t make a fuss with then,” clorinde teases, “he’s got quite the list of grievances if i make him a cup of tea.”

“that’s because you don’t know how to make proper tea,” wriothesley rolls his eyes, “there’s a set of steps you’re meant to follow, you know.”

“water is a most simple beverage,” the iudex cuts in, “one that has many complexities in flavor, as well. perhaps you should consider it as a fitting option if tea gives you too much trouble.”

“i would hate to think of the wrath the poor inmates would have to face if he were to miss a single tea time,” you grin, fighting back a chuckle as wriothesley takes a tired sip from his cup, resigning himself to his fate as the target of your banter, “water simply won’t do.”

“well, i believe we should be off,” clorinde looks at neuvillette, “perhaps we should leave them to themselves.”

“ah, yes,” the chief justice nods politely, “there are many more files for me to read through at the office.”

“do you ever take the day off?” wriothesley raises a brow, “wouldn’t hurt.”

“even his dreams are of legal cases, i’m sure. he wouldn’t last a day on vacation,” clorinde hums.

“i don’t typically dream when i sleep,” neuvillette frowns, still so serious that you choke on a snort as you try to hold back you giggles. wriothesley looks at you with an amused grin, biting his lip to hide a chuckle himself.

“i’ll be seeing you,” he waves as the two leave, “and hopefully with my present ready next time,” he calls to clorinde with a pointed look. she rolls her eyes, fondly waving as she heads out the door.

“i didn’t know you were friends with such important people,” you murmur as they leave, making him raise a brow as he takes another sip.

“friends isn’t the best title for it—consider us work acquaintances.”

“with banter like that, i hardly believe it,” you chuckle, earning you a half-hearted glare from him over the rim of his tea cup.

“did you have your fun at my expense?” he asks dryly—but there’s no real bite to the words, “it seems you got along quite well with clorinde.”

“monsieur neuvillette is lovely too,” you giggle, “even if he’s not exactly…the earliest to catch onto jokes.”

he laughs at that, setting down his empty cup as he stands, eyeing the door to his office quickly before stepping closer to you, eyes staring down at your lips as you chew on the bottom and wait for him to make his move.

“thank you for the tea,” he murmurs lowly, lips just barely a millimeter away from yours, “it was quite sweet. i enjoyed it.”

“there are plenty of other floral blends i have for you to try,” you hum.

he grins, hands finding your waist before he whispers, “surely i couldn’t take all that from you without offering something in return, could i? i wouldn’t want it to seem like i'm taking bribes.”

“oh?” you breathe, grabbing a hold of his tie and tugging him closer until your lips meet his in a slow, heated kiss. it awakens a sick, insatiable heat in your core almost instantly. “what did you have in mind, your grace?”

he groans at the way your voice teasingly lilts at the title, hungrily chasing after your lips again. it’s more tongue than it is anything, messy and almost too scandalous to take place in his office where anyone could knock and come in at a moment’s notice. he seems to know it, too, because slowly, he guides you backward, slow steps that don’t interrupt the lock of your lips until your back meets a door.

“why don’t i show you,” he breathes—and then the doorknob is twisted open, and you’re gently pushed in with an arm curled around your waist to guide you. there’s a bedroom connected to his office, you realize.

not entirely a shock—you’re sure the duke of the fortress has his own quarters to sleep in away from the other inmates, but it doesn’t surprise you less enough that you don’t pull away to take a glance around.

it’s empty, mainly. not too many things besides a few scattered files and another tea maker with a few cups surrounding it at a desk in the corner. the sheets are dark grey, plain, and neatly made, with two pillows and nothing else. it has no more than what he needs, no more than what’s necessary. no hints of anything that’s his, anything that makes the room belong to him outside of being a mere sleeping quarters.

“not one for decor?” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck as your fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“i only come here at night to sleep,” he shrugs, “never felt the need.”

“everyone needs a space that’s theirs, don’t you think? even a few flowers would brighten the place up.”

“offering me more business?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes, “and they’d die. there isn’t much sun down here.”

“i can think of a few options that would thrive,” you murmur.

“so it is business,” he quips. sigh exasperatedly, and he grins cheekily at you before you’re gently pushed to fall onto his bed, his body moving to hover over you as your legs wrap around his waist. his cock is semi-hard through his pants, and you wiggle your hips to press against it, the friction making him groan as you feel him stiffen even more from your actions.

“i think i’d like my payment now,” you hum, making him raise a brow.

“eager?” he asks, making your hand travel to squeeze at his bulge.

“and you aren’t?” you challenge.

“fuck,” he grunts, shuddering at the feeling, “looks like you got me.”

it happens faster than you can process—the shedding of clothes, the way his fingers slowly sink into you, pumping in and out expertly as your head spins from the way he brushes against your sensitive spots. he’s quick, the way he stretches you apart with his digits, adding a second and third finger with little to no time to waste. you hardly have time to accommodate the third when you feel a familiar ache building up steadily.

“c-close,” you say shakily, voice brokenly whispering against his mouth as he drinks up your moans, “i’m going to—”

“i know,” he hums, “shh. just let go—you’re doing so well.”

the praise shatters you—you break at the way he sounds so in awe of you, of the way you suck his fingers into your slick cunt, so tight and wet with every clench. your back arches, and your hips roll into his hand, whimpering as his palm rolls over your sensitive clit. “god,” you gasp, “wriothesley, please.”

“please what?” he drawls, “you already got what you needed.”

“please let me feel you.”

“such a demanding price for some tea,” he sighs, “alright. i guess i can afford it.”

the nudge of his cock against your folds is enough to make you mewl, a sweet, whiny little cry that he groans at—every sound you make leaves an ache shooting up his stiff cock in the form of a twitch, like your every cry calls out to him. he responds with a rough thrust of his hips, burying himself into the depths of you, so deep and so close you can practically feel his pulse alongside yours.

“so full,” you gasp, panting as you try to adjust to the sheer girth of him. he waits a moment, jaw clenched and teeth grit as he waits for you to nod your head and signal him to move.

“and you’re so tight,” he grunts, moaning softly against your ear as he nibbles on your earlobe, “i wouldn’t mind it if you charged interest either, just so you know. i’ll pay it over as many times as you want.”

“oh be quiet, would you?” you roll your eyes at his words at first, but then they roll back at the feeling of his thick, swollen tip pressing against the deep, sweet spot in the back of your walls. he lets out a breathy laugh, kissing the corner of your mouth so he doesn’t muffle the precious little moan you let out.

“sure thing,” he hums, “i like listening to you more, anyway.”

“oh,” you gasp, “oh—wriothesley!” his finger teases over your clit, making your walls quiver around him as you feel your second orgasm creep up on you. “w-wait—i’m close.”

“why would i wait?” he asks in amusement, “that’s the idea.”

“t-together,” you whimper, pouting up at him through swollen lips and watery eyes, “please. please.”

he curses, closing his eyes and inhaling shakily at the way you look so fucked out, so drunkenly hazed on pleasure from the drag of his cock along your every ridge. you ask so sweetly—and who is he to deny such an innocent request?

“fuck—okay, sweetheart. fine by me,” he pants, rolling his hips harshly as he works himself to his own orgasm. his thumb teases your clit cruelly, fast and merciless one second, and a slow, bare feather’s touch the next. it keeps you right on the edge, a drooling mess of broken pleas as he finally approaches his own high. “close?”

“so close,” you gasp, twitching as he buries himself deep into you again.

“me too,” his voice cracks, “c-cum with me—please.”

hearing him plead sends you over the edge again—your first orgasm pales in comparison to your second. you didn’t even think that was possible, but the thick of his cock bullying into you is infinitely better than his nimble digits. the blunt head hits all the right spots, curves in all the right angles, and fucks you through your high expertly without even trying.

you both cry out each other's names like prayers, muffled strings of curses, and breathy gasps that you swallow up between slow, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. finally, when the last few twitches of his cock finish painting his release into you, he slumps on the bed beside your body, body shaking in slight tremors as he catches his breath.

“you okay?” he asks through a labored voice, “didn’t hurt you?”

“i’m okay,” you breathe, smiling softly. he closes his eyes, relaxing into the mattress, pulling the covers to tuck the both of you in before he stares up at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head while he seems to be deep in thought. “what’re you thinking about?” you murmur.

“just how good you got along with clorinde,” he hums quietly, almost in wonder. “she’s not exactly the easiest to banter with so quickly.”

“well, i guess it’s not too hard if it’s at your expense,” you tease.

“ah, yes,” he sighs, pretending to woefully shake his head, “i’ve been reduced to the butt of the joke one too many times today, it seems.”

he grins to himself at the sound of your quiet laughter, so soft and sweet, so perfectly filling up the quietness in the room, bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears like a symphony. you stare up at the ceiling yourself, eyeing the pipes, the dark amber metal that makes up his home. it’s quiet like that for a bit—not awkward or uneasy, almost like you’ve known him for ages. almost like this is natural.

“can i ask you something?” you murmur after some time, shifting under the covers to face him.

he raises a brow, looking at you curiously. “you’re scaring me with that look. going to confess some wicked crime you want me to help you hide?”

“it’s not like that,” you huff, rolling your eyes. carefully, as if treading unknown territories (you are, in all fairness), your fingers find his bicep, running along the skin soothingly. it’s an affectionate touch—you and wriothesley only touch each other for physical pleasure, nothing more. this is new, something you’re freshly navigating with a weak compass that points back and forth between your heart and your head, unsure whether to follow logic or emotion.

“well, go ahead and ask,” he insists, “you’ve got me curious, anyway.”

“what…what did you serve for? when you were an inmate,” you say quietly. he tenses under your touch, muscles becoming rigid as you instantly regret the question. your fingers pull away at the same time as you start speaking, “it’s okay if you don’t want to answer! i just got curious and—”

his hand catches your retreating wrist, gently pulling it closer, closer, until your hand rests on his chest. this is definitely uncharted territory—but his hand firmly lays over yours as he presses your palm over his bare chest.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles, “it’s not exactly something people in my inner circle don’t know.”

“oh,” you whisper, “i’ve been promoted to inner circle, huh?”

“you’ve seen me naked,” he snorts, eyeing you with a hint of amused disbelief, “you’ve sucked me off, in fact. i think there’s a special other circle inside the circle just for you.”

“okay, no need to get all…”

“all what?” he teases, waiting for you to finish.

“all uncouth about our activities!” you huff, face feeling hot as he grins.

he laughs, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you against his side so your cheek presses against a muscled pec as his warm hand traces circles into your hip. you gasp slightly at the sudden gesture but relax all too quickly, your own hand moving to rub into his chest slowly, feeling the rough scars and tracing them with your fingertips.

“i was adopted when i was young from an orphanage. when i was a bit older,” he swallows, voice quiet, serious—so oddly vulnerable, you think you’re talking to a new version of him altogether, “i found a diary in my mother’s drawer. i didn’t…i didn’t mean to snoop. i was just looking for some paper for my sister to color with.”

“you had a sister?” you ask softly, looking up to see his jaw tighten slightly.

“i had quite a few siblings,” he admits, voice strained. “older and younger. my parents would adopt a few children at a time and raise them until they were old enough to be adopted into families of greater means. and then they’d adopt more younger children. i thought they were perfect parents,” his eyes stare off distantly, unfocused as they look up at the ceiling, hand mindlessly wandering along your hip as you listen.

“until…?”

“until i read that diary,” his voice hardens, still strained as he clenches his jaw and swallows thickly again, “they were records. of my older siblings, the ones i thought were adopted off. all of their names were followed by prices, and the ones who didn’t have prices had been crossed off. i didn’t understand until i saw my own name and my brother antoine’s. we had blank spaces next to ours.”

“how come?” you furrow your brows, looking at him in jarred curiosity.

“because we weren’t sold yet,” he smiles ruefully, “i realized we were being sold off like livestock. and i started to piece together why i had never heard from any of my siblings even when they’d promised to write. i…i never knew what became of them.”

“oh, wriothesley,” you say gently, so delicate, he closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. you press a soft kiss to his chest under you, hand moving up to cup his cheek, “what awful people.”

“i…i should have kept it to myself,” he whispers shakily, “i didn’t…i couldn’t figure out what to do, so i told antoine—i thought…i figured maybe…” he trails off, eyes closed once more as he breathes heavily, trying to collect the composure he fights so fiercely to keep.

“it’s okay,” you kiss his jaw, “we can forget about it. i’m sorry for—”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i want you to know.”

it should make you feel special—maybe even a little happy that he trusts you enough to want to share. but nothing about this makes you feel anything but pain—you can feel his pain, every inch of it. from the way his hand clasps around your waist in a shaky grip to ground himself to the way his jaw is tight under your lips as they press a soothing kiss to the angle of it. every part of him is in pain, and you can feel it. deep in your own bones, like a lingering ache. one that runs years deep, living in the deepest, most intimate parts of your body.

you don’t mind it, though. you don’t mind sharing his pain, not if it’s him.

“okay,” you nod slowly, “okay.”

he inhales sharply, taking a deep breath before he continues. “i told him because i knew we were next. i thought maybe we could have figured out a plan together. but he asked my mother about the diary, what the prices meant, and why we’d never heard from the others once they’d left. he was gone the next morning—my mother told us he was adopted, but i knew. i knew he was merely disposed of. and it was my fault.”

“it was not your fault,” you turn your head swiftly, looking up at him in disbelief as he scoffs and shakes his head.

“if i hadn’t told him, if i handled it on my own—”

“then what? he would have been fine? you don’t know that, what if he was sold off for something awful? or found out on his own without you? you were a child, and you didn’t know that he’d choose to do that.”

“but i still could have kept quiet,” he chuckles dryly, voice cracking as he adds, “i could have gotten us both out of there. on my own.”

“you shouldn’t have to have done it on your own,” you cup his cheek, bringing him to face you as your forehead presses against his, “you didn’t want to be on your own, did you?”

“no,” he admits, lips trembling, “i didn’t.”

“and that’s okay,” you murmur, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone, “you didn’t deserve to be alone.”

“maybe it was for the better, though,” he sniffles.

“a lot of things are. we can’t hope to predict everything for what would turn out better.”

“he died,” wriothesley chokes, “my brother. he died that night—i…i knew he did. so i ran the next day, when my parents were busy, i snuck off and ran. i didn’t come back until a few years later and i…” his breath catches in his throat, glancing at you for a moment. there’s something fleeting in his eyes. doubt, maybe—perhaps even fear.

you’re not entirely sure, but you press a kiss to his lips, soft and tender, so unlike your usual heated ones. something that’s shared not for the sake of pleasure but for the sake of knowing you’re there—that he has you. you’re both here, together, just the two of you. he can feel your warmth, and you can feel his.

it eases the tension somewhat, making his rigid muscles relax as he pulls you closer.

you pull away first, murmuring a soft, “i don’t care what you did. whatever it is.”

“you say that now,” he chuckles weakly, “but you don’t even know what i did.”

“i don’t care,” you say seriously, “i don’t. whatever you did, it was because you didn’t have a choice.”

“i killed them,” he says against your mouth, such harsh, dark words that don’t belong against your soft, pure lips—he thinks he might have just tainted them. almost like you know his thoughts, you prove you don’t care when you peck his mouth lightly. “i killed them and set the other children free.”

“you were just a kid,” you breathe, “a baby.”

“a teenager,” he huffs a laugh hoarsely, “maybe not that young.”

“a baby to me,” you say firmly, “no one that young should be pushed to such extreme methods.”

“you’re oddly calm about sharing a bed with a murderer. was the sex that good?”

you roll over, laying on top of him, pulling a soft oof from his lips—you know it’s exaggerated. he’s strong and broad under you, capable of taking your weight and then some as his hands find your waist to keep you in place, eyes boring into yours. so bare and so easy for you to look into, to read, to see so plainly for all he is.

he doesn’t even blink—as if he’s offering himself to you, trusting you to see as much as you want, see as much of him as he can show you.

“is that all you see yourself as? a murderer?” you ask seriously.

“of course not,” he denies, breathing softly into your hands as they cradle his face, “but it’s the part of me that matters most. that defines me the most. whether i want it to or not.”

“not to me,” you shake your head, “and not to you either, i can tell.”

“i know why i did it,” he tells you, staring at you so intensely, you feel like maybe he’s seeing you more than you’re seeing him, “i did it for my siblings. because i knew it was the only way to get them out. no one else would do a thing. but when you strip my title as duke from me, whether you put me in the underworld or put me in the overworld, i am a murderer. that won’t change.”

“and?” you raise a brow, “do you regret it? what you did?”

“never,” he says instantly. he means it. “but i’m aware of what i am to others. what they see me as. i’m not naive enough to believe my past will go away.”

“and it shouldn’t,” you shake your head, “i don’t think it should. i don’t think murder is what matters most about you—i think a child raised like livestock, betrayed, and taken advantage of, matters most. a boy who willingly gave up his freedom so his siblings would have theirs is what matters most. a man who served his time and chose to stay so he could make things better for everyone who followed is what matters. death was a kind fate for your parents, wriothesley—i for one, believe there were more fitting fates for them. far crueler ones than a peaceful demise.”

he chuckles at that last part, staring at you in wonder, in slight amusement, in so much awe that you almost feel shy.

“now i’m really questioning if the sex was that good—you’re really rationalizing my crimes, aren’t you?”

“oh, you’re such an asshole, do you know that?” you huff, “i think that’s what defines you best. a complete, utter, shameless assho—oh.”

he kisses you—abruptly so. his lips are pressed hard and firm against you, kissing with so much conviction, so much need, you’d think that you were disintegrating in his arms, that this was his last opportunity to kiss you and commit how you feel to memory.

“you sure it’s not my stamina?” he wiggles his brows, “how about my—”

“i’ll see to it that this is the last time we ever engage in such activities if that’s all you can focus on—”

“okay, okay,” he laughs, pouting as he pulls you down to lay on him, your head tucking under his chin as he kisses the crown of your head, “enough sex jokes. i promise.”

“so crass,” you scold, “have some decorum, will you?”

“my apologies, milady,” he sighs regretfully, voice exaggerated and theatrical as he adds, “i won’t allow myself to forget my manners again. from here on out, i’ll make sure to discuss more…gentlemanly topics for your liking.”

“you’re a real handful,” you sigh, “poor sigewinne. such a sweet little angel to put up with the likes of you.”

“you met her?” he smiles fondly at the mention of her.

“briefly, yes,” you nod, “the poor thing must be tired of your antics.”

“i’m on my best behavior around her!” he insists, “you can ask her.”

“i don’t think she’ll vouch for you, you know.”

“yeah, you’re probably right,” he withers in defeat.

you giggle, kissing his collarbone softly before nuzzling against him as he relaxes. it’s comfortably silent, just your body against his, warmth seeping between the space that hardly separates your bodies, spreading across your skin. you share your heat, and he shares his. it lulls you, slowly but surely, and you can feel it lull him, too as his breath slowly evens out under you.

sleep is just a breath away from clutching you when you mumble, “wriothesley?”

“hmm?” comes his sleepy hum.

“thank you,” you whisper, yawning, “for trusting me. enough to tell me.”

“go to sleep,” he grunts tiredly, “you can be sappy and sentimental in the morning.”

“okay,” you grin tiredly, pressing closer into him, “i’ll hold you to it.”

sleep comes quickly after that—so easy, so natural in his arms, you wonder how you’ve rested all these years without him.

——————————

your routine to meet with wriothesley ebbs and flows between the surface and the fortress. sometimes, he stops by just like before, and sometimes, he sends for guards to fetch you when he’s too busy to make an appearance himself. your meetings more or less end the same—catching your breath together, bare bodies huddled together in a tired mess as you share quiet, whispered words into each other’s skin. it’s a routine that both of you are too used to by now, that even a short gap of not seeing each other makes the both of you impatient for the next time you’ll get to see each other.

on days you can’t afford to see each other, your days at the shop drag by slower when all you can do is think about him. sometimes, the guards will be relieved to come to escort you, woefully expressing the awful mood the duke has been in, shuddering as they recall how unpleasant he is to be around when he’s unhappy. they seem to insist your visits are what help end his supposed awful temperament—your instinct is always to flush and insist they must be mistaken.

but it’s an intimate sort of development—the way the two of you slowly learn to depend on each other for comfort. you on long days at the shop, him after tiresome affairs with the fortress. every delicate touch and every saccharine word you exchange slowly peels away the harsh layers of the week, leaving you raw and bare to each other.

it’s nice. something you’ve grown a bit dependent on, in fact. a part of you would like to be scared, but wriothesley doesn’t let you fear anything—it’s just the kind of guy he is. everything about him feels too safe for you to consider being scared.

you miss him terribly, too. you haven’t gotten a chance to see him in over a week—it’s the first week of spring, the blooming season for a number of flowers. you have shipments from across the continent—cecilias from mondstadt, silk jades from liyue, sakura blossoms from inazuma, and padisarahs from sumeru. there are plenty more—too many for you to list off the top of your head, but those are the ones you’re sure will sell out the quickest.

there’s a certain man who stops by every day, a mop of ginger on his head and an interesting aura about him as he asks you if you’ve received kalpalata lotuses yet—they’re for my sister, he tells you, i bring them home for her every time i visit sumeru. but i won’t have a chance for quite a while.

you learn he’s a harbinger, the eleventh in rank, and hardly one to step foot in his homeland for too long at a time. but he’s due back, he tells you, for a project that won’t allow him to leave for quite some time. mingling with a fatui operative is hardly on your list of possibilities for the week, but you realize even a harbinger can appreciate the beauty of flowers. so you promise him your batch's biggest blooms as soon as they are delivered.

and he’s patient, coming every day in hopes that they’ve been delivered, helping you organize the deliveries you do get, going as far as to join you to loch urania amidst a terrible storm to assist in picking lakelight lilies when you’re low. you appreciate the small companionship you’ve formed with him—childe, as he’s called, he tells you. a code name for his place as a harbinger that you relish in being given the knowledge of.

the day finally comes when the lotuses are delivered, and for all his help and kindness, you try to repay him with a free bouquet.

he declines persistently. “no, no miss,” he chuckles, waving his hands in dismissal as you offer the beautifully bundled flowers, “i couldn’t possibly accept them free of charge.”

“oh, don’t be silly,” you huff, “you’ve done plenty for me. an extra set of hands in the shop is as rare as glaze lilies blooming in midwinter!”

“i was happy to help,” he chirps, “i had a good time occupying myself as i waited to depart fontaine.”

“and archons know when the next time you’ll return is,” you sigh, “which is why you should accept these as a parting gift.”

“a parting gift, huh?” your eyes widen at the familiar voice—wriothesley. it’s been almost two weeks since you’ve heard it, and you beam as you look over at his approaching figure.

“wriothesley!” you hum, “what are you doing here?”

“thought i’d come to pay a visit,” he says gruffly, eyeing childe, who grins tightly at the warden. “i wasn’t banking on seeing an ex-inmate, though. what a shocking surprise.”

“the fortress’s duke in broad daylight,” childe coos, “what a fascinating sight.”

it’s tense—you can feel the atmosphere shift all too quickly as the two men stare each other down.

“i didn’t know childe was a prisoner at the fortress,” you murmur, making the warden scoff as he glares at the harbinger.

“well,” childe shrugs, eyes sharp as they gaze at wriothesley, “i like to consider myself wrongly sentenced. justice isn’t always fair in the courts of fontaine, it seems.”

“ah, is that why you escaped from your sentence early?”

“i believe my escape proved to be quite helpful in saving the people of this nation in the end, didn’t it?” he asks, voice low, almost predatory, as wriothesley grits his jaw, glancing back at you before crossing his arms.

“is the fatui boy giving you trouble?” he asks, making you shake your head frantically as the harbinger lets out a dry chuckle from the side.

“oh, no!” you insist, “no, childe has been quite helpful, i promise. he’s given quite a hand, in fact!”

“is that so?” wriothesley perches a brow, tongue poking his cheek as he glares to the side at the smug ginger.

“oh, absolutely,” childe nods, “you see, i’ve been offering the lovely lady my assistance as i waited on my delivery. we even visited loch urania together to pick lakelight lilies for a bouquet she needed to deliver.”

“he treated me to lunch,” you beam innocently. you might have missed the way wriothesley’s jaw tightens, but childe certainly doesn’t, making his grin spread even wider. “he’s nice, wriothesley, i promise. i hope you both can sort out whatever differences you had during his previous sentence.”

“perhaps next time, you could join us for lunch,” childe drawls, “it’ll be on me.”

“a kind offer,” the duke chuckles dryly, a rueful grin on his tight lips as he adds, “but i’ll have to decline.”

“please, i really insist you take these lotuses,” you hold the bouquet out to the harbinger, and much to wriothesley’s dismay, there’s an evident amount of extra care put into the floral packaging. your careful handwriting in soft, looped letters spelling out his name across the paper, with a heart beside it as though you took time to thoughtfully scribble each letter just for him. “give your sister my best regards.”

“you know his sister?” wriothesley grits.

“oh no,” you chuckle, “but he tells me of her. the flowers are for her!”

“like i said,” childe hums, taking out a heavy pouch of mora and placing it on your counter—both yours and wriothesley’s eyes widen at the sheer amount of mora you’re sure is inside. it’s undoubtedly far more than a small, simple bouquet would cost, but he waves it off like it’s nothing as he says, “i insist on giving you the payment you deserve. you’ve certainly made my last few days here at fontaine interesting. it’s made up for the less than…welcoming treatment from the beginning of my trip.”

wriothesley’s eye all but twitches.

“that’s far too much to accept for a small bunch of kalpalata lotuses, you can’t—”

“consider it a payment in advance for the next time i return to fontaine,” he winks, “i’ll be sure to visit for more of your lovely flowers. i’m sure my mother will appreciate a bouquet too.”

with that, he waves at you, walking off with a grin as you sigh and shake your head fondly, waving him off as you call, “you’re quite the handful, you know. do visit again next time you’re here!”

“oh, i wouldn’t miss the opportunity for anything.”

wriothesley scoffs at the final exchange of words, watching the retreating figure of the harbinger with hardened, distant eyes while you exhale softly and grab the pouch of mora.

“are all harbingers this loaded with mora, do you think?”

“who knows,” he mutters, looking away as he swallows before adding, “i came to visit on my way back to the fortress. i had business with neuvillette.”

“oh,” you hum, smiling as you ask, “is he doing well?”

“fine,” is all wriothesley says.

“that’s good,” you nod, “we haven’t been able to see each other in quite a bit, huh? i’d have visited, but the deliveries all week have kept me busy.”

“good thing you had the harbinger to lend a hand, huh?” he remarks, raising a brow.

“well, yeah, i suppose so,” you frown slightly, watching as he takes a slow, deep breath before fixing his tie. “is everything okay?”

“yeah,” he says instantly. “may i walk you home?”

“of course,” you smile—it doesn’t reach your eyes, and he wishes he could find it in himself to do something to reassure the lingering worry in your irises, but he doesn’t. instead, he quietly waits for you to close the shop, so uncharacteristically silent that you can practically feel the tension in the air tangibly.

the walk to your home is just as silent. wriothesley doesn’t say anything, and you don’t have the confidence to break the silence yourself. you’ve never seen him like this, so bothered and visibly so. you’re not entirely sure what brought it on, either—but you are sure it has something to do with childe.

you finally reach your home after a long walk, quietly standing in front of the door as you turn to him and inspect his face. hard-lined lips, distant eyes, and crossed arms. he doesn’t look like the usual wriothesley you know—the one who grins and gives you a slight bow as he says, we’ve arrived at your lovely home, milady.

“thank you for walking me,” you murmur, looking at him carefully as he nods.

“sure,” he responds flatly, “my pleasure.”

“you didn’t have to trouble yourself if you were tired from your meeting,” you add.

“not tired,” he shakes his head. “it was no trouble to me.”

“are you sure?” you raise a brow, sighing as you cross your own arms, “you don’t seem too happy to be here.”

“what do you mean?” he shrugs lamely, avoiding your question, your gaze. you know that one look into your eyes is all it takes to make him spill, and normally, you don’t take advantage of that, but you think tonight you will.

because you’re tired of dancing around half-truths and coded words you have to decipher. you want one straight, laid-bare conversation with him. so you reach over and tilt his jaw, making him inhale sharply at your touch as you force him to face you and look at you.

“what is up with you? and don’t even think about saying nothing.”

“nothing is up with me,” he mumbles stubbornly.

“wriothesley,” you warn, looking at him unimpressed, “i was not born yesterday.”

“my apologies,” he says sarcastically, a rueful smile curling on those chapped lips of his, “i suppose i’m just a bit shocked i’m not the only customer you offer your affections to. i suppose that was silly of me—it must be good for business.”

“excuse me?” you recoil, staring at him in disbelief. a little hurt, too—he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, flinching slightly at the implications. “how dare you insinuate i’m a common whore?”

“that’s not what i was trying to say at all,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it came out wrong.”

“then what were you trying to say?” you demand, looking at him expectantly, hands on your hips and a raise of your brows that almost mockingly tells him, i’d love to see you work your way out of this one.

“you never told me you and the fatui boy were so close.”

if there’s one thing wriothesley is good at, it’s shifting things to focus on other people. so he can observe. watch closely. take note of all the little things so he can figure out what he wants to know without asking at all. all without having anything told to him right out. it’s how he works—and you won’t entertain it.

“the fatui boy has a name,” you point out.

“his name is not actually childe,” he snorts—there’s no real amusement in the action, just as sarcastic and sardonic as everything prior. “is that what you believe?”

“if you’re not going to say the problem with your words like an adult, i’m going to go inside,” you spit, “we’re both wasting time here if we’re just going to talk in circles.”

“yes, because i’m the one who’s not admitting things,” he chuckles dryly.

you glare at him—because enough is enough, and you’re sick of taking one step forward just to stumble ten steps back. with one swift move, your hand grips his wrist firmly and yanks, pulling him to stumble into your home as the door slams behind him. you’re tired of having bystanders walk past you and listen to your pointless discussion, and you’re tired of getting nowhere the longer you stand outside. it feels like the more you talk, the less you know. every word he says confuses you more and more.

and that’s the thing about him—he never tells you things, not since that night he first opened up. you thought you broke some newfound trust, a new ground to walk on with him that leads somewhere further than just two people who seek each other out for pleasure. you feel something for him—and you thought he did too, but it’s always something vague or another with him and you’re tired of it. tired of wondering where you stand, what he wants, how he feels. you want to know, and tonight, even if it kills you, you’ll find out.

“what is it you want me to admit wriothesley? huh?” you scowl, “tell me so i can tell you what you need to know so you’ll finally answer my question. i’m tired of the back-and-forth game with you.”

“you don’t need to admit anything to me,” he shrugs, “it’s not my business.”

“you don’t even believe that yourself,” you scoff, “even i can tell that much. is this about childe? you don’t like me mingling with the fatui? he’s just friendly, that’s all. and good business.”

“right,” he nods slowly, disbelievingly. you almost see red—how dare he hint that you’re a liar.

“what do you think i’m doing then?” you challenge, “let’s hear it. fraternizing with the fatui? is that the accusation you’ll pull out?”

“well, if he’s helping you pick flowers and buying you lunch, then you certainly can’t be strangers,” he smiles tightly, “perhaps next time he can join us in our canoodling too if you’d like.”

“so that’s what it is?” you shake your head exasperatedly, “you’re moody because you’re jealous?”

“i’m not jealous,” he narrows his eyes, “i have no reason to be.”

“i’d believe you sooner if you’d said the underwater beast really was the cause of your scars,” you scoff, pursing your lips. “why is it so hard for you to just speak your mind?”

“then let’s start with you,” he retorts, hands throwing up in the air as he takes a step closer and glares daggers at you, “why are you dancing around what your relationship with the harbinger is?”

“there is nothing between me and the harbinger! nothing at all, and i don’t appreciate you assuming things about me. i’ve only been intimate with you!”

“you don’t need to hide it,” he smiles bitterly. finally, as if the conversation has chipped away at his resolve enough that bits and pieces of his inner turmoil can show, you can see the lingering hurt in his gaze. the betrayal. the doubt and fear—all of it pools in his eyes, swimming in the many, many flecks of his eyes as you stare into them. “it’s not as though we’ve committed to anything here.”

“i’m not hiding anything,” you say firmly, “you don’t have to be jealous.”

“i’m not jealous,” he shakes his head. it feels like he’s convincing himself more than you. because more than you, admitting to himself he cares is hard. all of this is hard—you know that. the last time he dared to trust someone, to love someone, he’d lost more than he could fathom. more than he was ever ready to lose.

so you sigh, dropping your shoulders as you let the anger dissipate.

“i wouldn’t blame you if you were jealous,” you say softly, extending the olive branch with a slow, hesitant hand to his cheek. he stiffens, but he doesn’t pull away, “it would kill me, too, to think you were close to another woman. but the harbinger is a customer i’ve become friendly with and nothing more. don’t you believe me?”

he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he hesitantly leans into your palm, letting your thumb brush soothing strokes along the scar under his eye.

“i was jealous,” he admits, quiet. hoarse. strained. it takes every ounce of him to admit as much to you—the progress makes you smile softly. “i…i was so jealous i couldn’t think straight. and i took it out on you. i’m sorry.”

“maybe it’s time we had a discussion,” you say softly, “about…well, us. what it is we’re doing. it’s long overdue.”

“i’ve been avoiding it,” he confesses.

“i know,” you murmur, smiling tightly, “i know you have. that’s why i didn’t bring it up. but we can’t dance around it forever.”

“i’m no good at this,” he opens his eyes, defeated and so lost, you can’t help but lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“you’re not so bad,” you hum, “give yourself a little more credit.”

“no,” he shakes his head, “you don’t understand. i’ve never been good at this…at trusting people and getting close to them. i don’t even have real friends—i see clorinde and neuvillette every few months, and briefly at that. one of them was the judge at my trial, and the other knows as much about me as the files say. i don’t like talking about my feelings, and i hate sharing things about myself. i’m not jealous of childe because he threatens me—even i know you’d never give a fatui member a chance. but i’m no good for a stroll in the park, or picking flowers, or lunch at a cafe. i live underwater in a large prison that i run, and i rarely come up—at least, not often enough to be a healthy, functioning member of society, that is.”

“so what?” you frown, “i don’t care. nothing is easy at first—isn’t that why we try? who says you have to share all your feelings immediately? we can work up to that slowly. this was sharing, wasn’t it? what you just did? that’s a step in the right direction.”

“and look how much we had to battle for that little bit,” he lets out a sharp, self-deprecating laugh that makes your heart ache, “you’ll grow tired of me.”

“you don’t get to decide that,” you shake your head stubbornly, “i would never grow tired of you. never you.”

“i might be a duke now, but i was a murderer in the past,” he adds, a low and cheap attempt to convince you he’s not worth it. you roll your eyes at the statement.

“i’m aware,” you say blandly, “i don’t care, wriothesley. i don’t. those are all excuses—if you want this, if you really want this like i do, because you care about me just like i care about you and you feel the same way, then you’d realize these are all petty excuses your head is coming up with. i’ll wait for you to be better at communicating if you promise you’ll try. and your past is just a small stain on the cloth that we can ignore.”

“it’s murder,” he says in disbelief.

“i said what i said,” you huff. he blinks once, then twice before letting out a breathy chuckle.

“you’re insane.”

“thank you,” you nod, grinning, “and you being at the fortress is just a small obstacle. we’ll make it work, you and me.”

“how?” he asks, voice small and unsure.

“you act like it’s impossible, you silly thing. i’ll come see you, and you’ll come see me, and we can spend nights together wherever is most convenient for the time. why are you overthinking it?” you ask like it’s obvious. maybe it is—maybe his brain just doesn’t let him see how simple of a solution it really is.

“the fortress is no place for someone who’s used to the surface—”

“enough excuses,” you scold firmly, “i won’t have any of it.”

“you don’t know what you’re getting into,” he shakes his head—you cup his cheeks, pulling his face close as you press soft, delicate kisses along his skin. like he’s fragile. like he needs to be handled with care.

no one has ever handled wriothesley with care. even as a child when he was defenseless. when his parents saw a commodity to raise and sell like livestock instead of a child to love and cherish. when the streets saw a rat with dirty clothes and nimble fingers only good for theft. when he woke up in a hospital bed with cuffs to his hands, wrists shackled, and a caseworker sat a comfortable distance away, even without his gauntlets. when they saw him as nothing more than a murderer on trial as opposed to a child with no other way out. when the world showed him no mercy and left him to fend for himself in a dark, ruthless corner of the nation under the sea with no sun, no grass, no fresh air, and no hope.

no one has thought to treat wriothesley with gentleness, with kindness, with grace—as if he mattered. not until he made himself matter, taking what he wanted through a pen, paper, and meaningless title.

no one until you.

“i know exactly what i’m getting into,” you whisper, “you know what i see? when i look at you?”

“what? big muscles?” he teases, voice weak. a last, feeble attempt at keeping himself guarded. it’s useless, and he knows it as well as you do. he’s already far more vulnerable than he’s comfortable with.

“a good man,” you say firmly, “a good man who is worth the effort. one who has a good heart and no one to share it with. someone who knows when change needs to happen and makes it happen. someone who knows a thing or two about second chances. who shows people mercy if they’re willing to be better—because that’s all he wants. for things to be better.”

“you’re giving me a lot more credit than i deserve, sweetheart,” he says shakily, trying to give you his usual smirk. his lips wobble, much to his dismay—you kiss them to help him hide the tremor like the angel you are.

he’s not sure why the archons, celestia, or whoever is in charge of fate would send him such a perfect, pure angel in his arms. but they did. he’s certainly not one to miscount his blessings—they’ve been few and far between as is.

“no,” you murmur, whispering between kisses, “i’m not. i’m giving you as much credit as you deserve. because no one has ever told you these things about you, and it’s time someone did.”

“doing the dirty work, huh?”

“i wish you’d stop with that,” you smile at him sadly, “i wish you would treat yourself with the same kindness you treat everyone else with. that you treat me with.”

“you’re an angel,” he murmurs, pecking your cheek, “that’s the difference.”

“you can’t be that bad if that’s the case,” you grin cheekily, “what kind of angel picks such an awful guy?”

“one who thinks the fatui harbingers make good friends,” he snorts, “one who’s a little on the naive side.”

“i like to think of it as seeing good in people,” you wink.

he laughs, arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against his chest as he kisses you. and kisses you. and kisses you—and kisses you some more until you’re forced to pull away and breathe. even then, he’s not satisfied, lips finding the sensitive skin along your collarbones, traveling up along your neck and finding your jaw, peppering soft presses of his lips until they hover over your mouth again.

“you good?” he asks smugly, “need a minute to catch your breath?”

“you’re such a pain,” you huff, pressing against his mouth and closing the gap as he hums against you.

“what were you just saying about me just a few moments ago? something about a good man?”

“come here,” you sigh exasperatedly—and then you’re tugging him into your bedroom, stumbling and giggling as you both impatiently find the bed. you fall back, the mattress catching you along with him as he hovers over you and doesn’t waste a moment to nip at your neck.

“next time you need help with flowers in a dangerous, stormy place, you ask me,” he says lowly, breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver, “you don’t need the fatui boy.”

“okay,” you laugh, breathless as your eyes flutter shut when he nibbles on the sensitive spot over your pulse point, “you might have to temporarily drop your duties as a duke for that, though.”

“consider it done.” his hands tug your blouse over your head, doing quick work to toss it somewhere on the floor as he grins at the lacey red bra you have on underneath. “this is new,” he comments, “i like this.”

“of course you do,” you grin in amusement, “so predictable.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m an easy guy to please. just need you, maybe a few accessories…i don’t ask for much.”

“well,” you look at him in anticipation, “are you going to stare all day? or are you going to take it off?”

his eyes darken—hazed with lust and desperation as he quickly works the bra off of you and tosses it off to the side, too, but not before he stares at the label quickly. “chioriya boutique,” he reads, nodding, “remind me to give her my thanks. and business, too, in the future.”

“shameless,” you scoff, shaking your head.

“grateful,” he corrects, grinning cheekily at you. you don’t even get a chance to retort before his lips are around your nipple, teeth lightly grazing the pebbled nub as he sucks, making you gasp as your hands find his head, cupping the back of it as your own head throws back against the pillows.

“wri—”

“you know what i see when i see you?” he hums, pulling away from one nipple and latching onto the other, tongue rolling over it slowly as his thumb finds the other, not to leave it neglected, “i see the woman i would defy the gods themselves to possess. who i would commit far worse crimes for, and serve time all over again for. one who commands my every thought. do you know how many times i’ve neglected my duties just thinking about you alone? when i see you, i see the one thing that’s finally mine—mine alone.”

you whimper as his lips reattach themselves to your breast, sucking and grazing his tongue around one nipple and pinching and toying with the other with his hand. your hands tug at his hair, pulling a soft groan from his throat as he pulls away and stares at you. you’re a panting, heaving mess already—he grins in satisfaction.

“pretty,” he hums, nuzzling his nose against your throat, right where your pulse is erratic, “so, so pretty.”

“all this flattery, and you’ve yet to do something,” you rasp, just to rile him up as he lets out a deep, gruff sound of disapproval, eyeing you with a raised brow.

“oh, you want me to do something, is that it? i thought we’d take our time,” he grazes his finger along your waist, tracing the edge of your skirt before looping his finger under it, tugging slowly, “but if you insist, i guess we can pick up the pace.”

he pulls the skirt down your legs, eyes widening as he takes in the matching red laced panties from the bra earlier—you grin cheekily as he does. “like this one too?”

“oh,” he chuckles, breathless, “sweetheart, you have no idea.” wriothesley is a giver—you’re reminded of this fact as soon as his head buries between your thighs enthusiastically, kissing your clit through the lace as your breath hitches. “did you pick this little set up just for me?”

“don’t be silly,” you tease, “i obviously got this for myself. consider yourself a lucky witness.”

“and a lucky witness i am indeed,” he nods, humming as he slowly, carefully inches the lace down your legs, admiring the way it contrasts against your sweet, supple skin. “i owe chioriya boutique my life. i’ll even give my thanks to madame chiori myself.”

“please do not,” you say in horror, making him chuckle, “that would be utterly undignified.”

he’s not even listening, you realize. his lips attach to your clit as soon as the fabric is discarded somewhere to the side like the rest, a soft groan rumbling from his chest as soon as he tastes you, spreading your legs for better access as he glides his tongue to your folds, pressing between your folds and looking up to watch as your head throws back with a soft gasp.

“wriothesley,” you gasp, pulling his hair in a tight grip to ground yourself.

you’re the most gentle with him when you handle him—but you’re also the roughest. the way you grasp him so harshly, mercilessly in your grip, makes his eyes flutter shut in a sick, twisted sort of masochism. he loves the pain, the dull throb in his skull from your pleasure.

“yeah, i’m right here, sweetheart,” he chuckles lowly, “feels good?”

“yes,” you whine, “s’good—so good.”

“i know,” he hums, pressing soft kisses to your clit, along your inner thigh, until he’s back to your folds, hovering over them as he whispers, “i can tell just from the way you’re dripping. isn’t that cute?”

you whine in embarrassment, closing your legs around him as he grins against your cunt, grinding down on his mouth until he’s back to devouring you, tongue slipping deep into you as far as he can, exploring your tight, wet hole with fervor.

“close,” you whisper, voice bordering on broken, “i’m s-so close—oh, wriothesley!”

you come undone on his tongue with one more roll of his tongue over your clit, shaking as he sloppily eats you out through your high until your whole body is a shaking, quivering mess along with your walls.

“got anything else from that boutique you want to show me?” he murmurs, moving back up to hover over you, burying his face into your neck as your arms snake around his shoulders, rubbing into his back.

“maybe,” you say vaguely, grinning, “it’s a secret. maybe if you behave, you’ll find out.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, “consider me on my best behavior, milady.”

“then take this off,” you tug at his shirt, pouting as you add, “not fair that i’m the only one undressed.”

“as you wish,” he agrees. you watch as he strips—it’s not embarrassing like the first time or two when you looked away with a hot face and ears. now it’s intimate, watching him bear his soul to you, with every scar and imperfection, every flaw and tainted part.

his cock is hard, standing between his legs as it throbs, a bead of pre cum coating the tip. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close again as you feel his hardened length poke at your thigh, making you press against it and pull a groan out of him.

“i want you,” you whisper, “i’ve never wanted anyone else. not like this. not like you. i don’t think i ever will.”

“you can’t have met too many people then,” he teases.

“oh, i meet plenty of people. romantic ones at that—flowers are a love language, you know.”

“and you still want me? they must all be taken.”

“they’re not you,” you correct, pulling him into a sweet, slow kiss, taking your time to mold your lips against him and feel him against you, “nothing close to you. no one comes close.”

the bees should come to your lips for nectar, he thinks. flowers bloom from your mouth, delicate and sweet petals that light up his world and color him every shade of love.

“in that case,” he whispers, pulling away from your mouth to press a soft kiss to your nose, “i’m the luckiest man in fontaine. maybe teyvat.”

“i would agree,” you wink cheekily, “aren’t i such a lucky catch?”

“oh absolutely,” he laughs, amused, fond, so deeply enamored. then his lips are back on yours, and his hips are angled so that his cock teases your folds, grazing the entrance of your cunt as he coats his tip with your dripping slick.

you both shudder at the feeling, gasping against each other’s mouths as you exchange hot, labored breaths.

“i want you,” you repeat, “please.”

“you have me,” he whispers, letting out a soft moan as he pushes the tip past your entrance, “as long as you want.”

“that’ll be forever,” you say breathlessly, “think you can handle that long?”

“i’m sure i’ll manage.”

finally, he pushes all the way through, buried to the hilt and stretching you apart until he splits you open on his cock. he presses so deep into you, you can feel him nudge against that sweet, spongy spot without even trying. it’s like he was made for you—like the laws of this land declared him yours from birth and made him fit you in every way possible. the slot of his fingers with yours, the mold of his lips against you, the press of his cock into your cunt. all of it fits you so well, you wonder if you’ve lived your life just to find wriothesley.

you both moan into each other’s mouths, strangled sounds that you swallow from each other’s mouths as your lips sloppily press into each other.

“wr-wrio—fuck,” you stammer, nails raking along his back as he rolls his hips, slamming into your deepest, most rawest parts.

“yeah, baby,” he pants, kissing the corner of your mouth, “m’right here, sweetheart.”

you sob when a rough, callused thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves perfectly in tune with the harsh thrusts that fill you so deep. deep—he’s so far into you, you wonder if you can feel him in your throat, in your lungs, and in your heart, knocking the air out of you as you breathlessly try to call his name.

“faster,” you plead, clinging to him, “more—please, need more.”

“think you can take it?” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a strangled grunt when you squeeze around him particularly tightly, “i think you’re falling apart as is.”

“more,” you whine, back arching as your hips desperately buck up to meet his in tandem, trying to feel him closer, deeper, harder.

“if that’s what you want,” he hums—you want to scoff at him, but you’re too delirious. you’d tease him for acting like he doesn’t want the same, like the ache of his cock doesn’t crave more friction, doesn’t want to slam into you with little to no self-control outside of chasing his pleasure. you feel so good around him—so good, his head falls to your shoulder as he pants harshly into your ear, murmuring stammered praises. “s-so good, sweetheart. you always take me so good, like the pretty thing you are. how in teyvat did i score the affections of fontaine’s most radiant lady? o-only the gods could know.”

“why don’t you ask them,” you breathe, head pressing against the pillow as your back arches and your toes curl when he slams his swollen tip against your sweet spot once more, hips rolling in perfect precision, “ask them how you got so blessed.”

“maybe i’ll ask the divinity right before me,” he hums smoothly, chuckling when you mewl as his thumb rubs faster into your clit, “how did i get so lucky?”

“because i need you,” you whine, “n-need you—only you.”

“what a sweet answer,” he groans, pumping his cock into you faster, feeling the familiar twitch indicating he’s close—and you are too. he can tell from the erratic squeeze of your walls. “always spoiling me, right sweetheart?”

“wriothesley,” you cry, “i-i’m close. m’so close, please. please.”

“no need to say please, baby,” he grunts, “you can have whatever you want. when you want it, yeah?”

and just like that, you break—his thumb is still rubbing those harsh circles into you swollen clit as you cum, clenching down on him through your high as your mouth parts and your head presses deeper into the pillow. he’s fucking into you, still slamming his hips into you as mercilessly as before, riding you through your orgasm as you chant his name.

“wri—wriothesley,” you sob.

“yeah, sweetheart? what is it?” he teases—it doesn’t last long, though. his bravado falls apart as soon as the first twitch of his cock indicates his own orgasm. you feel the hot, sticky, endless ropes of cum fill you up, coating your walls as he stiffens over you and shudders, groaning lowly as he empties himself into your sweet cunt. “f-fuck, you feel so good—you’re the only one. the. only. one.”

his hips thrust into you to punctuate the words, cock pushing his release deeper into you, messy and leaking down your thighs and forming a ring at the base of his length. it’s so filthy you almost think it’s a sin. but how could it be when it feels so right, so good?

finally, he slumps over your body, spent and panting as he finishes. you catch your breath under him, labored breath one after the other as your sweaty skin clings against his own.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmurs after some time, kissing the damp skin of your neck.

“i know,” you whisper cheekily, making him chuckle as he rolls over, pulling you into his chest.

“so humble,” he snorts.

“of course,” you beam, “but feel free to leave more compliments.”

“oh don’t worry, i won’t run out any time soon.”

it’s quiet for a bit, apart from your giggles and his low chuckles. soft, peaceful, and so painfully comforting, you wonder if heaven itself wishes for a place beside wriothesley.

“when you first came up to the surface after your sentence,” you mumble after a few moments of quietness, tracing small loops into his chest as he silently hums for you to continue, “what was the first thing you did?”

“i got a croissant,” he answers thoughtfully, thumb rubbing circles into your hip where his hand is comfortably rested.

you blink, tilting your head to look up at him. his lips curve into a knowing grin.

“pardon?”

he laughs—it’s a beautiful thing. like a boy, eyes crinkled and lips freely curved so wide, you’d think his cheeks were endless with the way they expand to accommodate for such a large stretch. it’s the one time he doesn’t seem like the rugged man you usually know. something younger, more innocent, more raw comes out when wriothesley laughs.

“they go well with tea,” he shrugs, looking down at you, quickly stealing a peck of your nose, “and…” his voice is softer as he trails off, smile faltering.

“and?” you press delicately. so delicately, you’d think you were speaking to a house of cards, one word that’s breathed too harshly away from toppling over.

“and i wanted to visit a bakery i went to as a kid,” he murmurs quietly, voice dropping to a whisper as if he’s admitting something he’s never told anyone. something tells you he just might be. “there was an old lady who used to feed me sometimes when i was a kid on the streets. after i ran away. she’d give me a chocolate croissant and warm tea. i thought…i thought maybe there was a chance she’d still …”

he swallows, cutting his words off just before his voice has the chance to break. it’s a measured gesture. you know it is because you know him. just like you know the feelings of petals and thorns with your eyes closed, you know wriothesley. just like you can tell flowers apart from scent alone, you have him memorized. just like you know what every petal and its origin means, you understand him like it’s your job, too.

except you get paid to do this with something better than mora. with open-mouthed kisses and lingering touches. with coffee in a mug to complement the tea next to it. with strong arms to shield you when rain pours hard over your unsuspecting heads. with a gentle voice that learns to whisper back the language you speak better than anything else.

it says you’re the one i need the most, like rainbow roses. i miss you so much, i ache for you, like mourning flowers. i’d shed blood for you to live, like dendrobiums. you’re what i desire more than anything else, like romaritimes. each word is carefully formed, fragile as it hangs from a singular point. like petals on a stem, his words blossom from the tip of his tongue, falling one by one to your awaiting hands as your thumb traces his lips.

they all tell you one thing—whether he says the words out loud or not, he tells you he loves you through the things he does say. every little promise, every compliment, every form of praise. they say one thing—i love you.

you have always felt loved around wriothesley. you know he loves you, even if you question it sometimes, even if you ache to hear it, you’re always reminded he does when those eyes soften as they look at you, training on you like they never want to look away.

he loves you. he loves you not. he loves you. he loves you not. he loves you.

he loves you.

it always ends with he loves you.

“was she?” you whisper, finger tracing up his chest, along his neck and jaw until it cups his cheek tenderly. he shivers at the touch. “was she still there?”

gentleness isn’t something wriothesley is very familiar with. it raids his skin, takes over the territory that’s only known harshness, and conquers the scarred patches that are barren and empty from all the pain and desolation.

“no,” his voice is barely audible. “her son owns it now. the croissants still taste the same, though.”

“some things never change, i suppose,” you smile softly, leaning closer as your nose presses against his, “even when everything else does. it’s not so bad if you hold onto what you can.”

“and what if you have nothing?” he challenges, closing his eyes when you kiss his jaw sweetly and slowly inhaling a soft breath.

“i’m sure that’s never true,” you murmur, “there’s always something.”

“yeah? how optimistic of you,” he chuckles.

“i’m serious,” you pout, “there’s always a way to make do. look at cacti. they go ages without water, don’t they? and did you know naku weeds can survive being struck by lightning?”

“do you just compare everything to plants?” he asks in amusement, eyeing you with a charmed glint.

“of course,” you huff, “don’t you compare things to what you love most?”

he looks at you for a moment. really looks at you. grazes his eyes over your supple skin he’s traced so many times, over the small crinkles by your eyes permanently etched from smiling so often, over the curve of your nose and lips he’s pressed his own against, over the two eyes that stare back at him and see him more than they do look.

and then he nods.

“yeah,” he admits, “i do.”

your lips are as sweet as the warm chocolate that coated his lips and chin as a child. your touch is as soft as the hands of his mother when he thought he could trust her. your eyes are as bright as the sun when he first saw it after years of dark, rusted walls. everything about you reminds him of his past, the better parts and the worst. all of it.

some of it is healing, and some of it hurts so raw he thinks he’ll bleed out. but your hands are dipped in gold, he thinks. they’d make the most infertile soil rich and filled with life, letting him blossom new again right where his blood spilled.

he’s reminded of you in everything he sees. tea reminds him of your coffee with too much milk. paperwork reminds him of how distressed you are by wasted pages and killed trees. his gauntlets remind him of your hands so small in comparison. he’s doomed, he thinks. cursed, even.

cursed to always remember you in everything.

so, of course, he compares everything to what he loves most. because why else would you reside in his mind so endlessly, taking up the space from one end all the way to the other? why else would you remind him of you in even the mundane of things if he didn’t love you so deeply, so purely, so easily, that you’re everywhere all at once, even when you’re nowhere in sight?

he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply before letting out a slow, shaky breath.

“i lied,” he admits, making you frown.

“about?”

“about the first thing i did when i got to the surface,” he says quietly. “i went to my parents' graves.”

“to visit them?” you raise a confused eyebrow.

“no. to make sure they were really dead.”

“oh,” is all you say, staring into his eyes as he waits for you to say something more. “well, were they dead?”

“yes,” he snorts, closing his eyes and huffing out a small laugh. “very much so.”

“well, that’s a relief,” you giggle, “otherwise, you’d have served a sentence for murder for nothing.”

“good thing i didn’t, huh?”

“good thing you didn’t,” you nod, grinning as he stares at you softly.

“i’ll take you one of these days,” he hums quietly after a moment. you look surprised, eyes widening as you process the words.

“to your parents' grave?”

“to the bakery,” he rolls his eyes, letting out a breathy laugh. “i don’t think my dead mother would appreciate me bringing back a woman after i killed her.”

“oh, very funny,” you scowl, glaring at him.

“you think so?” he winks, laughing when you gently shove his face away, making his hand grab at your wrist and bite gently into the skin.

you squeal, giggling as he nibbles into your skin. “stop that, you brute!” you demand in between laughs.

it’s quiet for a moment as the laughter settles down, just you and him. him and you. silence echoing off the walls and warmth radiating between your bodies, the sheets clinging to your bare skin. you can feel his bare hip brush against yours. it’s intimate—far more intimate than either of you are used to, but not unwelcome.

he turns, pulling you into his arms and pressing your foreheads together. you think that’s his favorite position to be in—when your faces are so close, they touch. when his eyes can bore into yours. when he can feel the warmth of you tickling his skin as you breathe, as you talk, as you exist before him.

“you’ll like the croissants,” he adds quietly, thoughtfully, “the blackberry ones are particularly nice with the lemon and mint tea—”

you cut him off. before you can think. the words fly past your lips, swept with the breeze like dandelion seeds, and carried through the room as they find shelter in every little crevice. they’ll be here, in every corner, in every little place, a memento of your first real confession.

“i love you.”

he pauses as you cut him off, blinking as he stares at you. something flashes in his eyes—fear, excitement, a small bit of shock and doubt that makes your heartache. you can read him like a book.

it’s not doubt because he thinks you lie. it’s doubt because he thinks it shouldn’t be him. you know that, and you’re prepared to patiently prove him he’s wrong. little by little. day by day. one kiss at a time.

“that’s really enthusiastic,” he shoots you a teasing grin, too easy and too practiced for your liking, “if i knew you liked croissants that much—”

“no, wriothesley,” you say gently, like your words could rock the boat and topple you both into a dangerous, unforgiving current any moment. “i love you. i love when you tell me things you don’t like sharing, and i love when you show me things that are hard to revisit. i love you. because you try, and you’re good at trying. and that’s enough.”

“getting sentimental on me?” he asks hoarsely, smiling tightly.

your hand cups his cheek again, pulling him in so you can kiss the corner of his mouth as you whisper, “yes.” your lips find the other side of his mouth, still at the corner as you whisper again. “because you deserve to hear nice things. even the cheesy ones.”

his eyes close. one moment turns to two, and you let him take his time. let him swallow as he takes a shallow breath before he opens them again and looks at you.

he’s laid bare before you. in more ways than one. being nude is easier than being seen—he trusts you enough to let himself be both.

“you deserve to hear nice things, too,” he admits. it’s not the same as admitting he loves you too, but it’s as close as he can get—still difficult enough that his voice breaks. like it’s hard for him to confess something like this.

it is.

it’s hard for him to tell someone he loves them. the last time he did, he felt the sucker punch of betrayal in his guts, so young that he hardly understood what it meant to be betrayed at all. he watched the same eyes he used to think were his saviors die out as blood spilled in the living room, where his tiny feet padded across as he ran around and played. he misses them sometimes, even now.

his mother’s beautiful green eyes that greeted him in the mornings as she kissed him awake, warm and gentle on his forehead. his father’s deep blue ones that would look at him proudly as he grew and grew, clasping his shoulder with that firmly affectionate grip.

sometimes, he misses them, misses what he thought he had. other times, he’s glad he did it. sometimes, in the dead of night, when it’s just him, he mourns the old him. the one that didn’t have blood on his hands, the him that didn’t have to take two lives to set so many free. the version of him that was allowed to be a boy who existed freely, no taxes to pay for the love he so desperately wanted.

love is wicked like that—it creeps up on you, takes pieces of you, and changes you until you can hardly recognize yourself. until you can hardly recognize everyone around you. how long has it been since he’s seen his siblings? can he even still call them that? do they remember him? would he even recognize them?

he still loves them in his own way. his precious little sisters camille and lucie, and his sweet baby his brothers alexandre and nicolas—he came back and set them free just before it was their time. he didn’t want to leave them, but he had no choice. there were ones who left before him, a time that he can hardly remember anymore. a time before him and antoine. but he recalls them being so delicate with him just as older siblings should be. did they make it out of whatever fate they were sealed to? were they disposed of with no witnesses to bring their demises to justice? he doesn’t know. it’s easier not to know.

it’s easier not to love at all than to open up the risk of hurting. every person he’s ever loved has caused him pain. even the innocent siblings who did nothing wrong—all he’s ever known is pain. the pain of not having them around anymore. the pain of their quiet demise. the pain of setting them free and letting them go. the pain of never having them to himself like a proper family.

loving is so hard for him, so hard on him. so unforgiving to him. so cruel and harsh to him that he hides away behind guarded fists and loaded punches. and you know it, too—he knows you do because you reward his confession with the softest kiss you’ve ever given him as soon as he spills the words.

“i love you,” you murmur the sweet words into his mouth between warm kisses, “i love you. i love you.”

“say it again,” he pleads. it’s easier to let you love him than it is to love you—you don’t mind letting him be a little selfish. he deserves it, in fact.

“i love you. more than anything i’ve ever loved.”

“promise me,” he begs.

“i promise,” you say firmly. “and you don’t have to say it back, not yet. but i want you to know it because you should know you’re loved.”

all at once, the vines wrapped around his chest release, one petal blooming across his heart and arteries at a time until the nectar is running through his veins.

it’s warm. it’s sunny. it’s soft. it’s so, so safe. it doesn’t hurt. it never does with you. you never let it.

“i love you too,” he croaks. he shivers as he says it before he’s grinning slowly, chuckling in wonder as he lets the words sink in before he repeats again, “i love you.”

“yeah?” you beam, eyes crinkling as joy tucks itself into the crevices.

he nods. “yes. and your weird nature lectures.”

you pout, making him laugh. “hey—”

“and your annoyingly aromatic house with petals everywhere—”

“they’re not everywhere—”

“and that ugly dog watering can of yours—”

“it kind of reminds me of you, so—”

“i love them all, and i want them for the rest of my life. i hope you take it easy on the snapdragons, though. i think i’m allergic.”

“such a romantic at heart,” you grumble, rolling your eyes. but they’re glassy, swelling with unshed, precious little tears.

he kisses your eyelids as you close your eyes, murmuring, “i’m doing my best here. cut me some slack, i’ve never dated someone before.”

“oh, wriothesley,” you sniffle, tears coating your sun-soaked skin. and despite the evidence of tears, he’s never seen joy on your face like this before—so clear and radiant. “who taught you about romance? you’re hopeless.”

“hopelessly in love with you,” he shoots back smugly, wiggling his brows.

“i’m doomed,” you snort, letting out a watery chuckle.

“yeah,” he says cheekily, “you are. i hope you’re prepared.”

you kiss him in reply. he kisses you, too. you kiss each other. flowers bloom everywhere your lips touch—wriothesley swallows every petal gratefully.

you love him. you love him not. you love him. you love him not. you love him. you love him not.

you love him.

it always ends with you love him.

and he loves you, too. you both love each other. the words bounce from both of your tongues like you take turns tasting them, feeling them, familiarizing yourselves with them.

it doesn’t matter who whispers the words first or who murmurs them last. no matter who breaks the silence, it always ends with i love you.

ITS FINISHED. WOW. i never thought a flower shop drabble was going to turn into this—i actually had a completely different flower shop au idea that was going to be a long fic but i just wanted to write a tiny practice round drabble to get the itch out my system before i had time to sit down for the full fic. well as you can see…the practice run kind of took a mind of its own so now we have this. LOL. i think perhaps i will also write the other idea but we will see!!! this one kind of replaced the other one in my heart as flower shop wrio lore lol 🥸

ANYWAY!!! i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it. idk if wrio was ooc or not or if i did his past and trauma justice but i certainly tried!! all the things about his past with the siblings and his mother's diary and the croissant at the bakery are all headcanons i carefully crafted and hold so so so dear. they are my truth!!! and they make me fall in love with him so much more deeply :( anyway! if you liked it then as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated. now if you’ll excuse me, i will be doodling his name in pink glitter pen with hearts in my diary and giggling.

#writing tag #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut

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punkshort · 7 months

Text

i know who you are | 3. the accident

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel spend some time getting to know each other, but during dinner with Tommy and Maria, the truth comes out about your accident.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, mild description of head wound/stitches, flirting, clickers, violence and some descriptions of injuries/blood

WC: 10.4K

Series Masterlist

Two Weeks Later

"This place is a lot bigger than I thought. I feel like I see someone new every day."

"Well, your brain did a factory reset, so you kind of are seeing new people every day," Ellie joked at breakfast one morning. Joel had been scheduled on early morning patrol shifts lately, so it was just the two of you before Ellie's classes started. You felt bad, but you grew to enjoy these mornings with just her. She was easy to get along with and she didn't pester you constantly about your memory loss. It was like she just accepted it for what it was and moved on. Joel, on the other hand, was a different story.

"What are you doing today?" she asked, pushing away her bowl of oatmeal.

"I have to go get these stitches removed," you said, your fingers coming up to brush across your injured scalp. "Couldn't come any sooner. They are so itchy."

She hummed and crossed her arms. "Surprised Joel didn't wanna come with you. He's been hovering over you non-stop."

"Yeah, tell me about it," you muttered. When you caught the playful glean in her eye, you backtracked. "Not that I don't appreciate everything he's done for me, it's just..." you trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"It's just a lot?" she offered, and you nodded, relieved that she understood.

"I didn't exactly tell him, either," you said, dropping your gaze to pick at your cuticle in shame. "Every time I go to the clinic, he scares the shit out of that poor doctor."

She laughed softly and stretched her arms out behind her head. "Joel does that to people. He comes off like a pitbull but in reality? He's just a golden retriever."

A slow smile stretched across your face as you absorbed her words, then burst out laughing.

"That is-" you began, cutting yourself off with another laugh, "the most accurate description I could ever possibly think of."

"I've known him for a long time, what can I say?" she said with a grin while throwing her hands up in the air.

Your laughter died down as you stared at the table, lost in thought. Glancing up at Ellie, you decided to see what else she might shed some light on.

"Do you know of a Ben and Lisa?"

She froze and looked at you quizzically for a moment before dropping her hands back down onto the table.

"Yeah, do you remember them?"

"No, no," you said quickly, waving her off. "I kept a journal. Y'know, from before. And I was reading it the other day and I mentioned them. Are they around?"

Ellie glanced around the somewhat crowded room before meeting your eyes again. "No, not today. They don't really come out much," she said, examining you carefully. "They have a small house on the outskirts of town. They are... homebodies, I guess? I think they've been in here, like, twice, since you guys arrived."

"So, they came here with me?" you confirmed, and she nodded.

"Yeah, the three of you arrived together," she said. Her eyes glanced up and saw a few classmates heading out the front door. "I better go, school's starting soon," she said, pushing her chair back and grabbing her backpack.

"Yeah, okay," you said, sitting back in your chair. "Thanks, Ellie," you called after her, and she shot you a quick wave before running to catch up with her friends.

You wished you had more time to ask her about Ben and Lisa. Were they together? Were they siblings? Friends? How did you meet them? What did they know about your past?

The questions were piling up as you let your mind wander. You didn't even realize Maria, Tommy's wife, had approached your table until she said your name for the second time.

"Sorry," you told her, shaking your head.

She smiled and pulled out a chair, joining you at your now empty table. "Don't worry about it. I wanted to check on you. How have you been feeling?"

"Better," you said honestly. "I haven't needed the Tylenol really, so I'm going to bring the rest back to Nick this morning."

"That's fantastic," she said, leaning forward. She regarded you quietly for a moment before speaking again. "Any luck on your memories?"

You sighed and shook your head. It was inevitable - everyone eventually asked you the same question, either morbid curiosity or genuine concern encouraging them. And you tried not to let it bother you, you really did. But you couldn't help but feel like a failure every time when the answer was no.

And then Maria asked the next question everybody always asked.

"How's Joel handling everything?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Of course this was hard for him. It was hard for you, too, just in a different way.

"Alright, I guess."

"Are you two getting along? I know Tommy mentioned you were nervous-"

"Yeah," you said, cutting her off. "It was a little weird at first but it's not so bad now." You glanced around the dining hall, which was mostly empty. "Can you tell me a little bit about him? About us? I would ask Joel, but any time he tells me about some memory, I can see it hurts him. And I just can't stand to see that look in his eye again."

Maria gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your hand. "I get it. It must be hard, I'm so sorry," she said, and you could feel the tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes.

"I just feel like I'm always letting him down," you said, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"You're not. Hey, look at me," she said, forcing you to drag your eyes up to meet hers. "You're not letting him down. He loves you. You have no idea how much. That man has been head over heels since the moment you met. He'd do anything for you-"

"I know, and that's what makes this so much worse!" you exclaimed. "I'm sitting around that house all day - our house - waiting for my brain to fucking work and give him the person he's waiting for and I just can't! I can't-" you slammed your palms flat on the table. "I can't fucking-" you buried your face in your hands as you tried to conceal your tears. Maria rubbed soothing circles on your back, giving you time to collect yourself.

"Sounds to me like you're going a little stir-crazy."

You dragged a shaky breath in and nodded, letting your hands fall to your lap.

"What if we got you assigned some work around town? Something light, nothing too strenuous. Would that help?" she asked softly, and your pulse began to return to normal.

"Yeah, I think that would be nice," you said, flashing her a small smile.

"Your choice, then," she said, pulling her hand back, "what are you good at or interested in? I figure stables are probably not a good idea. Tommy said you were having trouble riding. Is there anything you'd like to do?"

You pursed your lips and thought for a moment.

"I'm not sure... can I get back to you?" you asked, realizing once again that you knew very little about yourself.

"Of course," Maria said before standing up from her chair. "You know where to find me whenever you think of something. Or if you just want to talk... I'm here, okay?"

You gave her a watery smile before whispering your thanks, then watched her make her way towards the doors. You sighed and looked around, realizing you were the only one left after the breakfast rush, so you pushed yourself to your feet and followed Maria's footsteps. You had a few more hours before Joel was supposed to come back from patrol, so you decided to walk over to the infirmary and get your stitches removed.

The streets of Jackson were mercifully quiet. Most people were working and the kids were in school, so you didn't run into too many folks on your way towards the other end of town. You wrapped your arms around yourself a little tighter. The chill in the air still lingered from overnight, making you shiver. As you walked, you looked around at the buildings like you normally did, trying your hardest to shake loose a memory, or at this point, even a flicker of a moment, but nothing came.

You trudged up the steps to the infirmary and stepped inside, grateful to be back indoors where it was warm. A little bell rang above your head, announcing your presence, and a moment later you heard Nick's footsteps coming down the hallway. When he lifted his head and saw you, his eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for Joel.

"All alone today?" he asked, then motioned for you to follow him.

"Yeah, Joel's busy," you said, and you swore you could see his shoulders relax.

"I know the feeling," he said, standing next to an empty exam room and holding his arm out to his side, inviting you to enter first, so you did. "I've been trying to get around to doing inventory for weeks, but I'm swamped. Can't seem to find a quiet day," he continued as he opened and closed some cabinets. He pulled on a pair of gloves and opened a drawer for some scissors before placing it on a clean washcloth next to the bed and putting his glasses on.

"Oh, speaking of inventory," you said, leaning to the side so you could fish the pills out of your jeans pocket. You held them out to him with a smile. "Didn't need them all."

"Excellent. Thank you," he said, plucking the baggie from your fingers and setting them down on the counter next to the scissors. "Glad they helped. And again, I'm sorry I couldn't offer anything stronger-"

"Don't be sorry, I understand," you said, then tucked your chin into your chest so he could get a good look at the back of your head. He began to carefully snip away at the irritating thread, taking his time to pull each and every piece out without tugging too much on your skin. You noticed aside from the two of you, the office sounded quiet.

"All alone today, too?" you asked.

"Yes, unfortunately," he said with a sigh. "My aide, Monica, got poached from me. They needed someone on patrol since-" he cut himself off and cleared his throat, and you frowned before you realized what he was about to say.

"Since they had to replace me," you finished for him.

"Yes."

Your lips pressed into a thin line as Nick continued to work away at your stitches. Another casualty in the hurricane that your accident seemed to cause.

"Hey, what if I helped you?" you blurted out, and his hands paused.

"You want to be my aide?"

"Sure. Well, do I need any medical knowledge? I don't know much, but I can help you with inventory or cleaning instruments or... whatever else you might need."

You could sense his hesitation without even having to see his face and you knew in an instant he was thinking about Joel.

"Maria approached me this morning about a job. She said it would be good for me and I agreed. But if I'm not qualified, I understand-"

"No, no, it's not that," he said, and you rolled your eyes. Of course not.

"Joel isn't the boss of me," you said after a moment. He stepped backwards and you lifted your head up to look at him.

"He's an intimidating man," Nick said by way of explanation. He snapped his gloves off and tossing them in the trash. "Why don't you run it by him first? As a favor to me?" he added with a half smile. You sighed and nodded before sliding off the bed.

"Sure, I'll talk to him when he gets back," you agreed, following Nick towards the front door. You thanked him before heading back down the street, your fingers gingerly tracing your closed wound before you shoved your hands into your pockets.

How the hell could one man manage to scare half the town the way Joel Miller did? You thought you were beginning to see a glimmer of the man underneath the hardened exterior, but what on earth drew you to him in the first place? What did your past self see in him that made you so enamored? And why couldn't you see it now? You were afraid the answer didn't so much lie with Joel, but with you.

You desperately needed to discover more of the person you were before your accident. Maybe then you would get some more insight.

When you got back to Joel's house, you decided to take what little quiet time you had left and read some more of your journal. As the sun rose in the sky, the day began to heat up a bit, taking away that frigid chill in the air, so you cracked a window in his living room and curled up on a worn out, but very comfortable, arm chair.

You flipped through the pages, your eyes landing on the last entry you read: Joel lied to me.

You never asked him about it. Either you were too afraid of the answer or you were too afraid he wouldn't tell the truth. At first, you tried to convince yourself that it was nothing. That maybe you had just gotten into a fight on that particular day and you were mad. But seeing how sporadically you had updated the journal, you got the feeling you wouldn't have written it unless it was important.

And why wouldn't you have elaborated? What could it have been? Something that was so serious, you didn't want to risk putting it down in writing?

You hadn't realized how long you were staring at those four words until you heard Joel's heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs of the porch. You snapped the book shut and looked up just as he opened the door. His dark eyes found you immediately and, as usual, you saw what you always saw - relief in seeing you again, the joy one had when they saw their other half, the attraction a man has for the one he loves.

Damn him and his expressive eyes.

"Hey," you said with a small smile, "how was patrol?"

"Not too bad," he replied, kicking off his boots. "Quiet. No infected. Me 'n Alex made short work of our route," he said, strolling over to collapse into the couch next to your chair. He rubbed his eyes with a deep sigh, his head resting on the back of the couch.

"Tired?"

"Yeah," he said, dropping his hand to his lap and rolling his head in your direction. "Glad I got tomorrow off. Maybe we can do somethin' together."

"Yeah, okay," you agreed. Maybe it would be a good opportunity to learn more about him without directly asking. His eyes drifted down to the journal in your lap and he jutted his chin towards it.

"Read anythin' interesting?"

Looking down at it for a brief moment, you thought about asking him what he lied about, but you ultimately decided against it.

"Yeah, actually," you said, flipping a different page open. "I wrote about a Ben and Lisa. Ellie told me we arrived together and they keep to themselves," you continued, looking up at him. His expression was unreadable. "Maybe I should pay them a visit one of these days. Maybe they can tell me a little about myself before-"

"Yeah, maybe," he said suddenly, then stood up to head towards the kitchen. You frowned, your eyes following him as he filled a glass of water. When he turned back to you, you were still looking at him, waiting for him to say something else.

"Why don't you give it a little time before you go seein' them," he suggested after downing his water in one gulp.

"It's been two weeks," you said quietly, "how much more time should I give it?" He shrugged and strolled back into the living room, leaning against the doorframe.

"What'dya wanna know?" he asked, avoiding your question. "I know you better than anyone. I can answer your questions."

"I didn't know you the whole ten years, though," you reminded him, unfolding your legs from the chair. "It sounds like they knew me longer. I just thought they could tell me how I survived-"

"For what?" he snapped, and his tone took a sudden turn. When you met his gaze again, the warmth was gone, and in its place was a face of stone. "What does that matter?" he asked, his voice rising a little. "You're here, you did what you had to do. We all did. What's the point in rehashin' it?"

"What's the point?" you repeated, bewildered. "The point is so I can learn about myself. So I can figure out the person I became, the person you fell in love with!"

Something flickered across his face for a brief moment before his eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he said, the edge to his voice now gone. "I'll take you to see 'em one of these days. We'll go together. I haven't seen 'em in a while myself. It'd be good to catch up," he added.

"Okay," you said slowly, "thank you." He took a deep breath and angled his head towards the stairs.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower," he mumbled, and you nodded, your eyes following him up the steps until he disappeared around the corner.

Joel Miller was an incredibly difficult man to figure out. Just when you thought you knew who he was, he did something like that and it made you second guess yourself. You had determined that aggressive side came out when he was protecting the ones he loved. So who was he protecting this time?

"What'dya wanna do today?" Joel asked you around a mouthful of eggs from across your kitchen table.

"Um, I don't know," you said, pushing your food around on your plate uncomfortably. You thought spending time alone with him was a good idea, but when you woke up that morning, you felt nervous. "Did you have anything in mind?"

He sat back in his chair and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "If you were feelin' up for it, thought I could take you outside the walls a bit. Maybe teach you how to ride again."

You perked up at his suggestion. For some reason, you didn't consider leaving Jackson as an option.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you said with a grin, and his chest warmed at the sight. He missed seeing you smile. Then he remembered something that might make you smile again. He stood up quickly, his chair sliding back across the hardwood floor, and walked over to his backpack, still hanging by the door from yesterday.

"What are you doing?" you called after him, but he didn't reply until he reentered the room with his hands behind his back.

"Forgot I gotcha somethin' when I was out yesterday," he said, trying to bite back his smile. It didn't even occur to him until the last second that you might not like what he was about to give you, that maybe your tastes were different ten years ago, but it was too late now. Nervously, he held out two worn paperback books. You stood up with a curious look on your face and took them in your hands, your eyes running over the covers quickly before turning them over and reading the backs. He shifted his weight as he anxiously waited for your reaction, and when he was rewarded with another huge smile, he couldn't hold his own back.

"These sound great," you told him, glancing at the books again. "I love mysteries, this is..." you met his eyes briefly before shyly looking back down. "This is so thoughtful of you, Joel. Thank you."

He beamed with pride, thrilled that he was able to do something nice for you. "You're welcome, ba- ahem," he coughed, stopping himself from finishing his sentence. You looked back up at him, heat creeping up both of your necks. He cleared his throat and turned around, picking up your plates. "You're welcome," he said again, "thought you might be gettin' bored 'round here."

He rinsed the plates in the sink before heading towards the front door. You put your two books on the counter and trailed after him, the both of you sliding on your boots and jackets. Joel grabbed his backpack before opening the door for you and he followed you down the porch steps.

"Yeah, I'm definitely getting a little bored," you said, eyeing him up as you walked side by side towards the stables. "But speaking of that, I was talking to Maria yesterday and she suggested I get a job." His head swiveled over to you, lips parted in surprise, but before he could speak, you continued. "She said I can pick whatever I want, nothing too strenuous."

He nodded and looked straight ahead again, your words rolling around in his head. "Yeah, suppose that makes sense."

"Good," you said, pleased he was open to the idea. "So when I was at the infirmary yesterday, Nick mentioned-"

"Why were you at the infirmary? Were you in pain? Did you get hurt?"

"Joel, I was fine," you said with a huff. You pointed to the back of your head. "I had my stitches removed."

He stopped in his tracks, which made you skid to a halt. His arms reached out to lift up your hair but at the last second, he held back.

"Can I?" he asked over your shoulder, and you nodded. He gingerly lifted up your hair to take a look at your injury, which felt much better now that the stitches were gone.

"Made showering so much easier," you told him. He hummed and dropped your hair.

"Looks good," he said, and continued walking. "You shoulda waited, I woulda went with you," he added.

"It took ten minutes," you said, waving him off as the stables came into view. "But while I was there, Nick mentioned his aide got reassigned to patrol to fill my old position, so I offered to take her place."

"You wanna work at the infirmary?" he asked, and you shrugged.

"I don't know much, but he said I didn't need to. He just needs help around the office. Cleaning up, taking inventory, maybe help him with some minor procedures. Hand him tools and all that," you said, and Joel nodded slowly.

"Alright," he said, "if that's what you wanna do, sure."

And although you weren't asking for his permission, it felt like you got it, anyway.

As you got closer to the stables, the high pitched whinny of a horse in a nearby paddock caught both your attention. The horse looked smaller - younger - and was attached to a long rope, and in the center of the field holding the other end was a man around Joel's age. Even from a distance, you could see the clench in his jaw and the way his muscles strained to rein in the animal, but he was losing the fight. The horse was too young and too strong and kept pulling away, getting as far away from the man as possible before the lead went taught and the horse was forced to face the man again. Each time it happened, the horse let out a shrill whinny and stomped its hooves in the dirt, expressing its displeasure.

"That's Caleb," Joel said as you both paused to watch. "Must be breakin' in a yearling."

"Breaking in?" you asked, your eyes still glued to the horse, whose head was twisting around angrily, trying to break free.

"It means he's tryin' to tame her so we can ride her," he explained, and you nodded. You both leaned up against the fence and watched the beautiful animal rear up and then dig its hooves deeper into the dirt, dust kicking up into a cloud around them. Caleb was struggling. Sweat was dripping down his face as he tugged on the lead and shouted commands at the horse, but she was having none of it.

The horse's whinnies were becoming louder and more panicked. The whites of her eyes showed when Caleb attempted to get closer, his skin tight over his knuckles from holding onto the rope. Once Caleb got close enough, the horse swung its massive head around in the air then reared back again with all its might, pulling Caleb off his feet unexpectedly with a shout.

"Shit," Joel muttered. He gripped the top rail of the fence and hauled himself over before you could even process what was happening. You watched, eyes wide, as Joel ran into the middle of the field, his arms raised up high over his head to keep the horse from stomping on Caleb.

"Hey! Hey!" you heard Joel's booming voice shout at the animal, drawing her attention off Caleb. The horse charged at Joel, but swerved away at the last second. Joel turned around and gave Caleb a hand, dragging him to his feet before the horse made its way back to where they stood.

"Hey," Joel said, softer this time, but his arms still stretched out in front of him. The horse skidded to a stop a few feet away, snorting and pawing at the dirt, its long tail flicking back and forth. Caleb stood and dusted himself off before taking a few steps backwards to catch his breath, but Joel remained in the same spot. He stared down the animal, the two of them silently sizing the other up. Joel's voice rang out again, just as soft as before. "Hey, shh, girl," he said, relaxing his stance a bit.

You stood cemented to the ground, entranced, as you watched the stand off between man and beast. Joel didn't look scared. He barely even flinched when the horse let out another high pitched squeal. He stood tall and firm, refusing to back down, and patiently waited for the horse to come to him.

He left his arm outstretched as an olive branch, his eyes never leaving the horse. He murmured low, soothing noises until it took a tentative step forward. Joel nodded encouragingly and continued to speak softly, earning him another step.

You felt a stirring low in your stomach as you continued to watch, with your jaw slack and your breaths shallow. Joel finally reached out and grabbed the lead, then ran the flat of his hand slowly up and down the horse's nose, giving it a little scratch between the eyes, and you clenched your thighs together.

After a few minutes of Joel calmingly murmuring to the horse, he handed the rope back to Caleb, who expressed his deepest gratitude before carefully leading the filly back towards the stables. Joel turned back towards you, dusting his hands off as he walked. Your cheeks felt warm by the time he made it to the other side of the fence and climbed over.

"That was..." you trailed off, not sure what to say. He smirked at you as he leaned down to pick his backpack up. "That was really impressive," you finally squeaked out. Unbeknownst to you, he could see right through you. He'd known you for too long and he especially knew what you looked like when you were aroused. He eyed you up and down before nodding towards the stables.

"It's 'bout respect and patience. You get what you give," he explained as he wiped away some sweat that formed on the back of his neck. Your mouth went dry at the sight.

"H-have you done that before?"

"What, break in wild animals?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you, and you nodded. If he didn't already clock the way you were reacting, he wouldn't have said what he said next. "No. Only you."

You choked on your laughter and he grinned.

"I hardly think I can compare to a wild horse," you said, your cheeks on fire.

"You're right. Tamin' you was harder."

"I thought I was the one who confronted you about sneaking around? Which is it?" you teased as you followed him into the barn, the scent of hay and leather and the sound of horses gently snorting in their stalls invading your senses.

"Oh, you did. You just didn't like sneakin' 'round. Took a lot longer to make you fall in love and move in with me," he said. He walked up to a list pinned to a clipboard and scribbled his name inside an empty slot.

"Mm, and you really think you can do it again?" you asked, trying to sound doubtful but your smile gave you away. He glanced down at you, leaning against the wall for a moment, his eyes lingering on your lips and cheeks before chuckling.

"Oh, absolutely," he said lowly, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

"Alright, Casanova. Let's get a move on," you said, rolling your eyes and turning away, but not before he caught the excited glint in your eye.

Thank god for Joel's backpack.

That was the only thing separating you two as you clung to him from behind as he steered your borrowed horse through the woods. It was peaceful. Serene, even. It was hard to believe so many horrible things happened, and were still happening, in this world when you were surrounded by such beauty. And you might have been able to appreciate it more if you weren't so utterly distracted by your body's reaction to Joel. You couldn't imagine what you would be thinking and feeling if there wasn't a buffer between you. Had you been able to feel each and every strong muscle in his back and shoulders, or the heat rolling off him, or fully commit to memory his very unique and intoxicating scent.

No, luckily you had some distance, and by the time he reached the field he was looking for, you felt like you had regained your senses. You brushed off your earlier reaction to your hormones and nothing more by the time you slid down from the horse and joined Joel on the ground.

"It's so quiet out here," you remarked, looking around and shrugging off your jacket. By now, the sun had risen high enough in the sky to warm everything up around you, the frosty morning air long since melted away. Joel tied the reins of your horse around a tree trunk and took off his own jacket, slinging it over the saddle.

"We used to come out here a lot," was all he said, avoiding your eyes. You looked around again, trying to find something familiar. He could tell what you were doing and he shook his head.

"Don't try to force it, it ain't gonna do any good," he said, and you looked over at him, surprised.

"Sorry. I'm really trying," you said softly, looking down at the dirt. He looked at you sadly, just for a moment when your attention was on your shoes, then forced a smile across his face.

"C'mon, I wanna show you somethin'."

You followed him through the thinning trees towards the open field; the grass waist high as you hiked through it together, cicadas singing all around you as you walked. The sun was growing more powerful, but you weren't uncomfortable.

"This is my favorite time of year," you told him, and he glanced over at you. "It's not too hot, not too cold."

He smiled and looked straight ahead once again. "I know. You like warm days and cold nights."

"That's right," you said, pressing your lips together and wondering if there would ever be anything you could tell him that he didn't already seem to know. "You have a good memory."

"When it comes to you, yeah."

Joel held out an arm to stop you, your face angled towards the ground as you walked so you wouldn't trip. You looked up when you ran into his arm, first at him, and then at the scenery before you.

It was breathtaking. Somehow, without even realizing it, you were on top of a mountain. Or, close to it, anyway. Near the edge, you looked around and saw other hills and valleys surrounding you, green and lush and full of life. A flock of blackbirds swooped by straight ahead, and way down below, between all the jagged rocks, was a little lazy river.

"This is beautiful," you breathed, your eyes glistening. Joel studied your face while you were distracted, his eyes never once looking at the nature surrounding you.

"Yeah, I know," he whispered. You dragged your eyes away from the view and gave him a dazzling smile, one that made his chest ache, before sitting down at the edge of the grass with a sigh.

"Okay. What do you miss most about your life before?" you asked him out of the blue. His stomach lurched, his mind immediately filled with thoughts of a little girl with curly hair and dark brown eyes that once made him finally understand the true meaning of unconditional love.

"Barbeques," he choked out, hoping you didn't pick up on his mood shift.

"Mm, that's a good one," you said dreamily, still staring out over the edge of the cliff. "What was your favorite part?"

He felt himself relax a bit as you forced his mind to shift gears. "The music. The food. Just... lazy weekends, hangin' out with friends or family. Spendin' time with people I cared 'bout."

"What's your favorite barbeque food?" you asked, pulling your knees up to your chest and turning your head towards him.

He thought about it for a moment, his daughter's memory drifting back into the recesses of his mind. "Ribs. Or maybe burgers. Tough call," he said with a chuckle. You slapped the side of your leg and turned your whole body towards him excitedly.

"Oh, my god. Speaking of ribs. My brother - Matty - one time he was in an 'all you can eat' ribs competition," you said, a grin already pulling at the corners of your mouth. "He was like, 22 at the time and he could really pack food away. Like, really eat. It scared the shit outta my mom, she had no idea how he did it and still stayed so trim," you said, and Joel chuckled. "Anyway, he entered this contest and all of the other contestants were these, like, huge guys. I'm talking pushing 300 pounds huge, right?" you said, the excitement evident in your voice now as your eyes shone bright, making Joel smile even more. "So, anyway, one by one these guys are dropping like flies and my brother just kept mowing down all these ribs like it was nothing. It was down to him and one other guy and the other guy looked like he was about to tap out. The prize was like, a thousand bucks, and we were all getting so damn excited. He was gonna win!" you said, your voice getting louder the more excited you became. Seeing you that happy for the first time in weeks made Joel's heart feel like it was going to burst, so he played along and urged you on. "Then, Matty freezes. And I'm staring at him. And he's just staring down at his hands, and we're all like 'what the hell is he doing?' and suddenly - woosh!" you said with a giggle, using your arms for emphasis. "He pukes everywhere! It was so fucking much, Joel! And it was so disgusting, oh my god. People were running from their seats and dry heaving, and me and my parents are fucking dying with laughter," you said, your giggles growing louder the more you remembered. You wiped a stray tear from the corner of your eye as you continued. "Anyway, of course he got disqualified and he never could be in the same room as a rack of ribs ever again," you finished, flashing him a grin. But when you saw his expression, although he was smiling and giving you some obligatory laughs, you could tell it wasn't the first time he had heard that story.

"You knew that already, didn't you?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. He smirked and looked down at his hands.

"Yeah," he admitted, and you groaned. "But it's still a real funny story. I love the way you tell it."

"I wonder if there's anything I didn't tell you," you said with a sigh. He inched a little closer when he heard the despair in your voice.

"It doesn't matter. I love hearin' everythin' 'bout you," he said, and you gave him a little smile. "You could tell me a hundred times and I wouldn't care."

He kept saying that word. Love. Over and over, like it was nothing. You looked away, his eye contact too intense all of the sudden, and stared out at the beauty before you. But you could still feel the heat of his gaze on your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine. Your mind raced, trying to think of something else to say when he softly whispered your name. You tilted your head in his direction and the look in his eye caused you to temporarily forget how to breathe. He was staring at you like you were the only other person in the world. Like you were a siren, calling to him on the sea, or Aphrodite, knocking him to his knees in prayer.

No, no, no, you thought as he leaned in a fraction, his eyes flicking down to your lips. Too soon. Not ready.

A blood curdling screech echoed from somewhere behind you. Somewhere far too close for comfort. You froze, eyes wide and scared, but Joel whipped around and reached into his backpack, pulling out his revolver and knife.

Stay here, he mouthed, pressing a finger to his lips, and you couldn't remember if you acknowledged him or not before he crouched and disappeared into the long grass, leaving you all alone on the edge of a very dangerous cliff with some terrifying monster nearby. Slowly, trying very hard not to make a sound, you turned your head, searching for the source of the noise. As you scanned the field, the tall grass hiding Joel somewhere in its depths, you spotted it. It, being the only proper word.

It was hideous. Fucking disgusting. Half its face was overgrown with fungus plates, its mouth wide and wet and dribbling with blood, teeth yellowed and bared. It hunched over as it got closer and closer to you, snapping its jaw like a lion, trying to locate its next meal. You swallowed roughly as it got closer, its torn clothes and bent fingers coming into view. And the smell. The stench of death and rot filled the air, completely ruining the beautiful backdrop you were admiring mere minutes ago. Your heart slammed wildly in your chest, your breathing unsteady and your hands shook violently. You had nothing to defend yourself. You looked to your side, wondering if you could push it over the cliff if necessary. Where was Joel?!

Just as it was about to clear the grass and step into the clearing, Joel leapt up behind the creature and stabbed it in the back of the head with a loud grunt. It collapsed in an instant, blood spilling from its skull as Joel stood over the corpse, shoulders and chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

"Oh my god," you whispered, your trembling hands coming up to cover your mouth as you stared at the lifeless body. You hadn't seen an infected alive yet. And they were far more terrifying than you ever imagined. Tears welled up in your eyes that you quickly tried to flick away, but Joel already noticed.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he cleaned his knife off in the grass.

"Yeah," you replied shakily, still staring at the dead infected a few feet away. You slowly forced yourself to your feet and walked around it, only stopping when you were safely in the grass. With a grunt, Joel kicked the body closer and closer to the edge until it tumbled over. You winced as you heard its body faintly thudding and cracking against the rocks and branches below. He glanced over at you, your face screwed up with a mix of distaste and fear, and he sighed.

"Wanna just head back?"

"Yeah," you said, looking at the view once more before following him through the tall grass. "It was nice while it lasted, though."

The two of you trudged through the grass quietly, back towards the woods. He could tell you were shaken up and he inwardly cursed the clicker for ruining what could have ended up being a really nice day with you. A day where he thought he was making some progress. He made you smile and laugh and he definitely recognized that heated look in your eye back at the stables, but all of those memories suddenly seemed so distant. It wasn't until the horse came into view that he even remembered why he brought you out in the first place.

"You still wanna learn to ride?"

You looked up at him, your perfect lips parted ever so slightly. It made him want to grab your chin and press his mouth against yours so he could remember what you felt like again.

"Oh, sure," you said, glancing wearily over at the horse as you approached.

"Why don't you take the reins and I'll sit behind you," he offered as he untied the horse from the tree. "That way I can take over if you're feelin' too nervous."

"Okay..." you agreed slowly, realizing that meant he would be pressed up against you for the entire ride home. And this time, there wouldn't be a buffer.

He laced his fingers together and bent forward, offering you a boost. You got a good grip on the saddle and delicately placed your foot in his hands before he launched you upwards. You swung your leg over and shifted in the saddle a bit, looking down at the back of the horse's head. Its long ears flickered back and forth, trying to shoo away the flies.

You gasped when the saddle shifted slightly and Joel climbed up behind you. Your body stiffened and you stared straight ahead as he got himself comfortable. You tried to block it out, but when his arms wrapped around you from behind and took the reins from your grasp, you realized it would be impossible.

"This is how you wanna hold 'em, see?" he murmured softly in your ear, and you immediately felt goosebumps break out up and down your arms. He hadn't been this close before. Not even when he was examining your head wound. His exhale tickled the side of your neck and you realized his lips were dangerously close to your exposed skin. When it occurred to you that he had asked you a question, you blinked and snapped out of it.

"Yeah," you said, and you hoped he would think your hands were shaking because you were nervous to ride and nothing more.

"Now we're ridin' western, so when you steer, you wanna pull the reins across, like this," he said, demonstrating with his hands over yours, and just like that, the horse turned to the left. "And you just do the opposite if you wanna go the other way."

"Okay, makes sense," you replied, surprised you were actually following along.

"You want the horse to move, you gotta squeeze your legs. Gotta do it hard, though. It's a big animal, they can't feel you if you don't squeeze hard."

"Uh huh," you said, so you gave it a try. You squeezed your legs as hard as you could and the horse slowly lumbered forwards, and you squealed with excitement. "I did it!"

Joel chuckled behind you. You could feel the deep rumble through your back and the little puffs of air from his nose on your neck. It made you shudder, and you tried to pass it off like you were cold. The horse began to slowly walk back the way you came, through the trees and past a little stream, and the longer you walked, the more confident you became.

"This isn't so bad," you admitted, and you weren't sure if you were talking about Joel's embrace or riding the horse. You were growing used to his arms around you now, even though you didn't really need his hands to guide yours, you didn't say anything. It was... nice.

"How do I make it go faster?" you asked.

"Well, you can give her a little kick, or you can click your tongue. You remember how to click your tongue?"

You laughed a little and without thinking, you gave it a try. Clicking your tongue experimentally against your teeth sent the horse rushing forward. Just into a trot, but it still took you off guard. You gasped and leaned back into Joel's chest, looking to steady yourself so you wouldn't fall. You could feel him laughing behind you as he tightened his arms around your waist and gave the reins a gentle tug, slowing the horse back down to a walk.

"Not funny!" you exclaimed, but your smile gave you away.

He missed this. He really missed this. He missed holding you and laughing with you and spending time with you. What he wouldn't give to kiss you again. He ached for the way you tasted, the way you moaned underneath him, the feeling of your smooth skin under his rough palms. Every day that passed he felt like he was forgetting little by little, and the urge to remind himself, the urge to pull you into his arms and kiss you deeply and take you to bed with him was becoming more intense by the day.

But he had to be patient. He could be patient. You'd come around, one day. He was sure of it.

By the time you made it back to Jackson, you were feeling much more at ease. Maybe this is what you needed. Some time away with Joel, just the two of you, so you could learn more about him. You had to admit, you were beginning to see a very soft and sweet side to him that you only caught glimpses of in the past.

Before today, you hadn't been able to understand the attraction. He was good looking, you already knew that, but you also knew that couldn't have just been it. That wasn't enough to share a love for one another that he classified as rare and meant to be. Now, it was starting to become clearer. There was something inherently sexy about the way he handled himself. The confidence he had, which, at first, came off as cocky, you now viewed in a different light. After the way he handled the horse in the pasture and the clicker in the field, you were beginning to understand.

Joel Miller was a protector. He cared deeply and passionately for the ones he loved, and he stopped at nothing to defend them. Sometimes that love was misplaced as anger, and that's where he kept losing you.

He had asked if you felt up to joining Tommy and Maria at the dining hall for dinner, and even though you were a little tired from your outing, you agreed.

As you walked down the street together, he had to fight the impulse to hold your hand. He still noticed the way people looked at you, their curiosity over your now famous injury getting the best of them, but once they caught his eye they quickly averted their gaze. It angered him, he couldn't help it. He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. You didn't deserve to be gawked at.

You followed Joel through the crowded hall once again, and just like before, the crowd naturally parted for him. He seemed to be making his way towards the back, towards the same table as before, only this time Tommy and Maria were already seated and waiting.

Maria greeted you with a hug and you gave Tommy a quick smile across the table before sitting down between her and Joel.

"Beautiful day out today," Maria said off to the side while Joel and Tommy talked amongst themselves.

"Yeah, it really was. I'm gonna miss it when the snow comes," you said, giving her a face. "Who's watching your daughter?" you asked suddenly, glancing around as if you could have possibly missed a small child running around.

"Oh, Dina offered to babysit, so we jumped at the chance to get out of the house," she said with a laugh. "Did you do anything exciting today?"

"Yeah, actually," you said, glancing at Joel, who was still talking quietly to his brother. "Joel taught me how to ride a horse. Well... re-taught me, I guess," you said with a small laugh.

"Thats fantastic. I'm glad you were feeling well enough to go out," Maria said with a warm smile.

"Oh, that reminds me-" you said, stopping yourself when Seth came over to take your orders. You just asked for what Maria was getting and turned your attention back to her. "I thought of a job."

Her eyes widened in surprise and she clapped her hands together. "Let's hear it!"

"I thought I could help out at the infirmary," you said, and she nodded along thoughtfully. "Nick was telling me his aide had to join patrol and he says he just needs someone to help do things around the office."

"That sounds like a great idea," she said, but you could hear the hesitation in her voice. When she glanced over at Joel, you connected the dots and sighed.

"He's fine with it," you grumbled, your gaze dropping to your hands.

"Fine with what?" Joel's voice asked from beside you.

"She wants to help out at the infirmary," Maria said, and Tommy grinned.

"Great idea, sugar," he said, "Nick could use the help. He's smart, but he's disorganized as all hell."

"I think it'll be good for you," Joel said, his knee knocking against yours under the table. "Help you get to know everyone a little better. Besides, if anythin' were to happen, you're in the right place," he added, leaning back in his chair so Seth could put his plate down in front of him.

"What do you mean?" you asked, picking up your fork and then scrunching your nose when you saw cherry tomatoes on your plate. Without even looking up, Joel speared the tomatoes with his fork and put them on his plate, then the three of you watched as he gathered his squash and gave it to you.

"I mean, if your head ever got to hurtin' again, then you'd be in the right place," he explained, looking up and licking the pad of his thumb. He frowned a bit when he noticed the table staring at him, and Tommy and Maria quickly ducked their heads to focus on their food, hiding their smiles.

"What?"

You dropped your gaze shyly to your plate and poked at the squash with your fork. "You know I hate tomatoes."

Heat crept up his neck a bit but he grinned. "The acid upsets your stomach," he said, and you chuckled to yourself, about to say something else when Jesse happened to walk by your table with some friends.

"Hey, Jesse!" Tommy called out, making him stop. He gave you all a quick wave before looking at Tommy expectantly. "Think you can join in on the 10am patrol tomorrow? Joel was just tellin' me he saw a clicker in that zone. Don't want any surprises like last time."

"Yeah, of course," Jesse said, then Joel frowned.

"Speakin' of last time," Joel said, his eyes drifting back and forth between the two men. "You never did explain how she got hurt on your patrol."

"That's right," you said, setting down your fork, "what happened? How did I fall? Was it the horse?"

Tommy and Jesse exchanged a nervous look. It was quick, but Joel still caught it. His jaw ticked to the side as he patiently waited for an answer.

"Uh, it was all so fast, and so much was happenin'," Tommy said, clearly floundering.

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to remember exactly," Jesse said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, try," Joel said, his voice dropping an octave. You turned your head slightly to look at him, not understanding why there was a sudden mood shift.

"We got ambushed by a small hoard," Tommy began, pushing his food around on his plate. "Thought we had it handled til a bunch more came outta nowhere," he continued, looking up to meet your eye now. "You were takin' down a runner, didn't see one comin' up behind you and it pushed you down. Knocked your head on a sharp boulder. Jesse 'n me took down the rest of 'em and that's when we realized you were knocked out cold."

You nodded, the story making sense as you remembered waking up to them yelling your name and their clothes covered in blood. But Joel wasn't satisfied. He knew they were leaving something out.

"That all?" he pressed, eyeing his brother. Tommy looked at Joel, a tense moment passing between the two before Tommy slowly nodded. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Jesse interrupted.

"It was my fault."

The whole table turned to look at him, taken aback. His hands were fidgeting at his sides as he avoided Joel's intense stare, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"I wanted to check out this department store. It was too big, we hadn't cleared the area, b-but we hadn't seen any infected in weeks a-and I thought we were good," he said, glancing up quickly at Joel, who was clenching his jaw and glaring at Jesse.

"What'd you need so bad from this store?" Joel seethed, and you saw Jesse swallow nervously.

"I-it's me and Grace's anniversary soon, wanted to get her something-"

Joel stood up quickly, his chair tumbling backwards, clattering loudly on the ground and silencing the room.

"So you wanted to get your girlfriend a present? That's why she can't remember a goddamn thing?" Joel roared, pointing at you. Tommy stood up and held his hands out.

"Calm down, Joel."

"I ain't calmin' down!" he shouted, and you jumped in your chair, scooting away from him and closer to Maria, who put an arm around you and urged you to stand.

"Let's go to the bar," she murmured, ushering you away as if she knew what was coming.

"I-I'm so sorry, Joel," Jesse stammered, tripping over his feet as he tried to put some distance between them.

"Sorry ain't gonna bring her back," he growled, rounding the table, his shoulders tight and his eyes wild. He reached out and grabbed Jesse by the collar before Tommy could react, and slammed him face first into the table. Food and cutlery went everywhere. People at nearby tables backed away but stayed to watch the fight unfold. Joel lifted Jesse up and smashed his face into the table again with a grunt, and this time you heard Jesse cry out in pain. You covered your mouth in horror as you watched Tommy try to pry Joel's hands off of him. "Wonder how many hits it'll take before you forget Grace. Maybe then we'll be even!" he shouted, pulling him back up by the collar. By now, blood poured from Jesse's mouth and his cheeks, mixing with tears as he tried to pull Joel's hands away. Just as Joel was about to slam his head into the table for a third time, you found your voice.

"Stop!!" you screamed, and by some miracle, he did. He still gripped Jesse's shirt in his hands, but Joel twisted his head around to look at you. Whatever he in your face made his fingers loosen their grip and Jesse stumbled backwards, collapsing into a chair as Tommy kneeled down next to him, trying to wipe away the blood.

Joel turned his whole body toward you, his face red and his chest heaving. His eyes were still crazed with anger but you could see it slowly melting away.

He took a step forward and you took a step back.

His eyes dropped to your feet, regret washing over him in an instant.

"Maria, can you gimme a hand?" Tommy called out, and she rushed over to help Jesse stand. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw them slowly leading Jesse towards the front door, no doubt in search of the doctor to help patch his wounds, but your eyes remained locked on Joel.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, not caring about all the onlookers still frozen in silence. But you did. You opened your mouth, then glanced around and thought better of it.

"Not here," you said under your breath, then stalked towards the exit, pushing your way past people until you felt the cool night air in your lungs.

You hurried down the street, wrapping your arms around yourself as you barreled home. You didn't turn around to see if he was following you. You knew he was. It was almost like you could feel him now. His presence draped around you like a scarf, surrounding you, engulfing you, suffocating you.

Storming up the porch steps, you flung the door open and walked inside, not bothering to close it behind you. You charged into the kitchen and paced around, your anger boiling inside you with nowhere for it to go.

"I'm sorry," he tried again from the doorway, trying to give you space. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him. His eyebrows were pinched together as he quietly waited for you to say something.

"Have you always been like this?"

His breath caught in his throat and he paused for a moment before replying. "Since we met? Yes."

"So you're saying I've caused you to act like a caveman when you hear something you don't like?" you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.

"No, no, that's not - what I meant was, since you've known me, I've... had a temper," he said, quickly correcting himself.

You let a silent moment pass between you as you thought about what he said.

"It's no wonder it took me so long to fall in love with you," you said, and he winced. He looked away, trying to hide the pain, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad, but you stood your ground.

"It didn't bother you before," he mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Well, it bothers me now," you snapped, and he nodded.

"Okay, then I'll work on it," he conceded, looking up at you. "Happy?"

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Thrilled."

Brushing past him, you marched up the stairs towards your bedroom and slammed the door shut behind you.

You could hear him moving around downstairs as you washed up and changed into pajamas, still seething at his behavior. How could you possibly fall in love with this man? You could barely figure out who he was - one minute he was soft and sweet, and the next he was bashing people's faces in. Even you could see it wasn't really Jesse's fault. The three of you would have agreed to check out the store together. Joel was just looking for someone to blame. It was immature and brutish and stupid.

Just as you pulled the covers over yourself, you heard a quiet rap on the door. You paused for a moment before rolling your eyes.

"Come in."

The door slowly creaked open and Joel slipped inside your room, glancing around at the bedroom you once shared together before looking at you.

"Can we talk?"

You furrowed your brow for a second before nodding, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped forward and perched on the side of the bed, facing the wall so you could only see his side profile as he sat, deep in thought. You pulled your legs up so your chin rested on your knees and waited.

"I lied to you."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you couldn't help but think of the journal - Joel lied to me - and wondered if this was it. If you were going to get your answer.

"When you asked me what I missed most 'bout... before. I lied."

Okay, so probably not the lie in the journal, but still, your interest was piqued.

"What do you miss most?" you finally asked, and he sucked in a deep breath, his eyes glistening as he stared at the wall.

"My daughter. Sarah."

Your heart clenched in your chest and your gaze dropped to your hands. A daughter?

A long silence passed as you slowly connected the dots. The way he was with Ellie. The anger. The journal entry about Tommy having a daughter. The softness he kept hidden away.

"She died on outbreak day," he began, his throat already constricting. "Died in my arms. She was shot and-" he sniffled and took a deep breath. "And I couldn't save her. I held her and watched the light leave her eyes and I -" he choked back a sob and looked down, still avoiding your gaze. "I've never been the same," he finally managed to get out.

You swallowed back the tears that were forming. How couldn't you see? Of course he was hurting. Of course he lost someone. Just like you lost your family, he lost his. Were you that selfish and blind that you couldn't see it?

"Joel, I'm so sorry," you said shakily, but he shook his head.

"Just wanted to explain why I'm... whatever," he replied, giving up and rubbing his face.

Your chest ached for him. He was in pain and you couldn't stand it. Inching forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck, tentatively resting the side of your head on his shoulder. His hand came up to cup your elbow and he tilted his head so it rested against yours.

"I'm sorry," you repeated softly.

"Me, too."

You stayed like that for a while. Extending small olive branches to each other as you sat with the weight of what the world did to you both, and you finally began to understand what might have brought you together in the first place.

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personasintro · 8 months

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Romance Is Not Dead | jjk

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it’s valentine's day and you're single

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brother's best friend!jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mentions of sex (it's mentioned quite a lot), reader's brother is kinda dick, alcohol usage, men (that deserves a warning alright), drunk people (it's a party), angst (?) honestly I'm not sure if there's any angst but it's a story with a few realistic topics that are kinda sad if you think about it, it's not your average fluff story lol

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k+

a/n: happy valentine's day! mind you this was supposed to be a short drabble like around 2k lol, I had no proper idea of where this will go and somehow I ended up with quite a long story haha. but I'm happy I got more into writing, I wasn't expecting writing this much. if there are any mistakes, please ignore them hehe. I rushed to post it so I could make it on february 14th. I don't know what even is this story but i hope you enjoy it hahah don't forget to like and reblog ♡

“Argh! Who even invented Valentine's Day?”

The groan that leaves your mouth – or more like a loud complaint – rolls around the room, not stopping you from tossing your bag on the kitchen's table to show your annoyance more than actual anger.

“Hello to you too, sis.” Your brother throws a peace sign your way, not particularly fazed by the lack of greeting on your side.

From your peripheral vision you could easily tell they're right there. Your brother and his best friend have been best friends since high school, they go way back and somehow, they've managed to stay super close till now. It's quite admirable, you have to admit. You don't think you've ever seen or heard them fight. Overall, their friendship seems to be more relaxed in this sense than most girls' friendships.

Yes, that mostly happens between guys. They're not as dramatic or bitchy as some girls can be. God. None of your current friends are your friends from high school. You've parted ways eventually.

However, the amount of drama free that's clearly not present in their precious brotherhood is equalized with loud burps, unfiltered talks about girls and sex through male eyes. You would've mentioned farting but luckily, you haven't heard your brother's best friend to be that nasty in front of you. Which can't be said about your brother but well, that's a part of having a sibling – regardless of their gender.

It's quite cliché.

Your brother's older, therefore he's protective yet loves to embarrass you at any chance. He thinks he's all that and sometimes, it feels like he thinks he's your third parent. That's what's more annoying – perhaps even more than overrated Valentine's Day.

“Did someone decline you on Valentine's Day?”

There he goes again.

Teasing you. It's a never-ending circle. Luckily, you've grown resistant to his pathetic attempts to embarrass you – especially when his friends are present. Yeah, your brother can be a dick and you're not afraid to tell him.

Though, you don't stick to the names and curses and instead turn it into something more powerful.

Scoffing, you swipe your hair back and give him a look. “Please, look at me.”

“I am, that's why I asked.”

You waste no time in grabbing one of the stupid empty cans he always has laying around and throw it at him. Did you mention he can be a pig sometimes?

Your aim has gotten way better throughout the years and when he curses at you once it hits the side of his head, you smile happily. His friend chuckles at the two of you, lifting the can that has fallen onto the floor and sets it on the table.

“Yeah, and that's why you chase every man that comes my way.” you comment, knowing well damn you're right.

He frowns, “Those men can hardly be called men, sis.”

“Well, bro, I wouldn't know since you like to be the pain in my ass.” you smile at him tightly, seeing him looking before he goes back to playing one of his stupid video games. “Not that I have a man to look up to in the first place.”

They've been doing that a lot. Lame.

His best friend's snort turns into a laughter that he barely gets to hold in. That makes you smile because you see it as a success in getting back at your brother. And perhaps your little crush you've had on him has something to do with it. But we don't talk about it.

Your brother glares at him but he's not affected, not even a bit. It's hard to put it into words or make any definition, but he's always been slightly more… intimidating? He has an aura around him that makes you appreciate even a little reaction from him.

It's humorous. You've known him for years, merrily just from always seeing him next to your brother (because there were never other opportunities), yet it feels like you barely know anything about him. Even though he used to occupy your living room almost every day. And today doesn't feel much different. The only difference is that none of you live at your parents' house.

“Who hurt you today?”

“Don't be a dick. I can be a bitch too.” you remind him sweetly, leaning forward against the kitchen counter and grab a grape that lays in a single bowl. Probably the only healthy thing he has in this kitchen.

He flips you off and frowns once he doesn't win the game. Karma. “Anyway, are you gonna tell us why you came here so annoyed or you're gonna eat?”

“I can do both,” you shrug. “I just don't get the hype about Valentine's Day.”

“Oh, you asked who invented it? Probably a pair of groupies in love.”

You roll your eyes, “I don't think that's it.”

“It's about romance. It's romantic, sis.”

You snort, “And how would you know anything about romance?”

He chuckles cockily as if the next words he says is something to be proud about; “I don't. But the girl I fucked said something about it.”

“Ew!” you gag, stopping yourself from reaching for another grape. “You're gross sometimes.”

“You don't talk about sex with your friends? C'mon, it's normal.”

“Yeah, with my friends. Not in front of you.” you justify.

“Jesus, we didn't have to hear that.” Your brother scolds you, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of you talking about sex.

You sometimes make sex jokes in front of him just to mess with him. It's pretty funny and it never gets old. You don't do it often though, but perhaps you should.

“I hear only you complaining.” you sign out, pointing out the obvious and for the first time since you've arrived, you give proper attention to his best friend.

He's been awfully quiet. What's there for him to say anyway? You and your brother bicker most of the time, no matter how old you are. He's pretty much used to it by now. He just stuck to playing the game and other than cackling at your previous comment, he's been quiet. You hate that you're slightly annoyed by the lack of attention he gives you. Not that you're an attention seeker or desperate for his attention.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out he sees you as his best friend's little sister. Even though you're not as little as when he first met you.

“JK is the last person who wants to hear your complaints.”

“Why don't you let JK speak for himself?” you question, a little edge to your tone as your brother huffs out, muttering something under his breath – obviously aimed at you.

“Chill out, you two.” he mutters, voice slightly deeper than you remember it even though the last time you've seen him was last month. It has a little rasp to it and you wish your eyes wouldn't glue to him automatically.

He lays comfortably on the couch, man spreading with a game controller sitting in his lap while his big thumbs rest comfortably against the buttons. You might've mentioned you are not friends with people from a high school anymore, but you have friends. One who would kill for a moment to spend with your brother's best friend. Just to be in his close proximity.

Though, it's no secret he's not any better than most guys his age – including your own brother. In a weird way, you love your brother (even though you wouldn't probably ever say it out loud because he's a weirdo and he would just make fun of you), but you can easily tell he's not someone you would ever want to end up with. Personality and morally wise, of course.

He surrounds himself with people with the same values, or the lack of.

And perhaps, it's one of the reasons why you suddenly got annoyed because of today's day. February 14th. You're the type that simply brushes off any guy who comes your way that you don't have any interest in. There's no need for your brother. He's a dick and he chases the ones that might not be husband material, but they're hot and charming. You're not necessarily looking for a marriage. God. You're too young. You don't want to be the one that gets locked in a marriage with someone they just met.

Definitely you don't want to get knocked up either. Fuck, they're so many scenarios that run inside your head. Ones you don't want to live in.

Regardless of your current stance when it comes to your life and relationships, you're still romantic. All of your friends have dates today. Any other day or year, you wouldn't even think of it – but you've seen everything in the shape of a heart today. Not mentioning there's everyone kissing and hugging at every corner of the street.

And you didn't get a discount on your cake because you were alone with no partner around. Who does that? That's discrimination!

Valentine's Day is overrated. Maybe you think that way because you're single. Have been for too long. And while you don't necessarily miss it, you kind of crave for someone's affection and touch. It's not even about sex.

“Listen, we're having a party tonight. I wouldn't normally invite you–”

“Wow, thanks.”

He shoots you a glare again before he continues, “But seeing you so miserable, maybe you could come too.”

“Party? Is this another one of your gangbang parties?”

“I have never been a part of that, stop calling my parties that.”

“There are literally hundreds of people who are there to hook up.” you inform him.

He snickers, “That's like every party.”

You lift up your eyebrows, not quite believing him. It's like every party he hosts or is invited to. People his age make parties slightly less wild. Not that he's too old but still. He's acting and living too wild for his age.

“I'm not hosting it.”

“Who is?”

“JK here.” His brother says, head motioning toward the man next to him. “I'm sure you don't mind that I'm inviting her.”

The said man looks at his brother, shrugging. “I don't.”

“Well?” Your brother looks back at you. “Are you coming?”

“Are you gonna chase everyone that comes my way? Y'know, my friends are all having dates and if I don't wanna spend tonight alone, I would rather have fun.”

“You're allowed to come. And yeah, probably I will.”

“You're a douche. I'm an adult, stop treating me like a child.”

Your brother sighs, already knowing what argument is about to come. It's about the same stuff every time.

“I'm doing it for your own good. The people that are gonna be there, guys that are gonna be there are like us, sis.”

There's a certain softness behind his voice, though it still stays vigorous as if he's trying to get something through your thick head. You know all of that, though. You know he doesn't hang out with the best people. But they're just dicks. And they're thinking with dicks. But you can take care of yourself. Besides, he's going to be there as well.

JK, or Jungkook like you refer to him in your head, briefly looks at you. But you spot it and stare at him as his eyes drift to your brother. “You can't protect her forever.”

“That's something an asshole would say.”

“I never said I'm not one. But let her have her fun.”

“You know what? Don't come. I don't want you there.” Your brother stands up and shoots you a glare before he walks away.

God! He's such a dick!

JK chuckles and you realize you've been frowning this whole time. You hear the door slam close and you scoff. “He's such a child.”

You eye him with no embarrassment whatsoever, tracing all the tattoos he has gotten throughout the years. The white shirt fits his torso perfectly, even though it's oversized his muscles peak through.

Your friend told you he's at the gym almost every day. It sure looks like that.

He suddenly stands up and you straighten automatically, watching him make his way toward you but not before tossing the game controller on the couch. He stays on the other side of the table, reaching for one of the grapes while still staring at you.

God. He's doing something purposely.

For the first time today, your confidence slightly falters but you do your best not to show it. You stare as he pops one of the grapes into his mouth and chews on it.

“You're still invited. That's if you still wanna come.”

You blink, “But my brother–”

“Is like a child sometimes. You're gonna be fine there.”

Gulping, you mutter; “How are you so sure?”

He doesn't answer but there's a small smirk playing on his lips. “You would still come, wouldn't you? Just to piss him off.”

That causes you to let out a soft chuckle because yes, he's right about that. Your brother needs to understand you're not a child. “I would.”

“Alright, then come.”

You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and lift your brow, “I will.”

You will go to the party. Even if your brother would burn down the city.

One of the few things you've learned about your brother's best friend – Jungkook – is that he comes from a wealthy family. You know he got his own place in the city center, that alone tells you he's got money. Whether they come from his parents or by his own hard work is unknown to you. Either way, it's quite clear he's always been slightly privileged than most kids your age.

You've never been to his parents' house. There was never a reason for you to go there, plus, you're not your brother and he didn't exactly bring his little sister with him whenever he went somewhere. The only time he would have to spend time with you alone was when he had to babysit you. But you would always stay home and he would let you know how annoyed he is because of that.

A typical teenager who wanted to chase girls and experience his first hook-ups rather than having to babysit his little sister who was born with sharp tongue and big mouth. You're probably his karma for all the hearts he already managed to break.

Anyway – you know JK's parents' house is settled up the hill, away from the city and in a rich area where all the big houses were built. You've never seen it, hence your first reaction when you spotted a huge gate and a house that looks more like a mixture between mansion rather than a small family house.

Before he parted ways a few hours ago when you last saw him, he gave you the address. Seems like you've arrived just in time. There are many people, outside and inside – everywhere. It looks like the college parties you get to see in movies but more upgraded.

The thing about you is that you would never go to a party alone. Even if two people you know are here. Well, your brother still doesn't know you're here and he's about to get pissed once he sees you. Suddenly, the idea to piss him off doesn't seem so alluring.

But this house – or mansion or whatever this building is called – is the only place that is not filled with heart balloons. They might be couples and strangers that are glued to each other, the romance is simply not present. It's nasty and explicit to a certain extent.

A part of you is disgusted at how easy some people seem to be, letting themselves to be groped by strangers, but there's something alluring. Perhaps even more than doing this just to prove a point to your brother.

You don't get a chance to look around the place, since it's crowded and you're trying not to get shoved into, you're looking for a bigger space and maybe something to drink. You make it into the main room it seems. A huge couch in the shape of U looks massive but it fits into the big room perfectly. There are people everywhere and there's not a single space on the couch. However, once you make it closer and spot a tiny space, it's all forgotten and your vision naturally travels to the couple sitting there.

You would spot those tattoos everywhere.

Jungkook's there. And a woman sitting on his lap as you see them making out explicitly, tongues brushing against each other. Alright, a part of you envies the woman but looking around and seeing more of them staring in slight irritation and jealousy, you're not alone. You scrunch your nose at them not caring and just making out with each other in front of everyone. There's no way they don't know everyone's eyes are on them. The guys ignore them though. It's mostly women.

The one that sits on his lap and seems to be ready to jump his bones, is wearing a tiny top and mini skirt. You can see her panties and you feel embarrassed to witness the tiny piece of underwear. Well, she doesn't seem to care.

His hand is on her waist, gripping it tightly as he pulls away and mutters something into her lips. She giggles, all her attention focused on him.

Despite knowing him for years, you've never seen him in this element. And maybe that's what your brother didn't want you to see. Not even Jungkook but everyone here. You've witnessed a few parties, but this one is completely on another level. It looks straight out of a movie and perhaps completely out of your comfort zone.

But you don't leave. You stick in your spot and just stare at your brother's best friend flaunting his charm all around him, but mostly aimed at the woman on his lap.

Since your brother that eventually came out of the bathroom told you to get out, you've decided to come after all and give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe not exactly the same but that's why you chose one of your tight dresses. They're not special. Just a dress that almost every woman owns. But this one has thin straps and you don't get to wear a bra in it, that's how tight it is. It's the only clothing you're wearing, minus the panties of course.

You look good. You know you do and that's why you chose this outfit particularly. You thought the heels are perhaps too much, but luckily you opted for them instead of your sneakers. Everyone seems to be dressed like they're in a club. Not even one outfit on a woman here looks completely comfortable. And they show more skin when they wear clothing. Not that you're judging. You're not the one to talk.

And you know this choice of clothing is not only a magnet for eyes, but for unwanted touches you were counting on eventually. It's sad but it's the truth. That's why you never come alone to these things. You always have your friends with you. You would kick asses for each other and overall, you feel more protected and safe.

The hand that slaps your ass – that definitely looks good in this dress – causes you to turn and twist your face in anger. You spot a wasted man that smiles stupidly as if he did something cute. You shove him in the chest causing him to stumble into a few people who start to curse at him and complain.

“Touch me one more time and I will fucking kick your ass.” you spit at him.

Your ass might look good but that's not an open invitation for strangers or anyone to touch you unwillingly.

He gains his balance and his drunk features twist into anger. You see it. He's angry because you're not all over his dick because he touched you. First of all, he's not even hot. And he's wasted out of his mind. There's nothing hot about it.

He doesn't make it too close because you push him again, causing him to fall this time.

“You bitch!” he yells, having a trouble to stand up and you cover your mouth to shield the giggle that makes it out.

One of the guys that he stumbled into turns around, ready to curse. But as your eyes lock, all the amusement fades away and your eyes widen in a sudden fear. Shit.

It takes a moment for your brother to register that it's you – perhaps the exposed skin causes him to widen his eyes too before they twist into anger.

“What the fuck.”

“I was invited.” you automatically argue, yelping once he makes his way toward you and grabs you by your forearm. He kicks the bastard that still tries to stand up and starts leading you elsewhere. No, he's not leading you but dragging you with him.

It's not the initial reaction you had in mind. You wanted to smirk, to show him that you're here and there's nothing you can do about it. But that's out of the picture because in the end, you're just a little girl that maybe loves to piss off her brother, but once you truly piss him off you back away.

That realization causes your anger to come back and you dig your heels into the wooden floor, trying to get out of his hold. “Stop squeezing me like that!”

“Would you like to be squeezed by strangers?!” He yells over the music, both of you stopping next to a staircase.

It already happened, you wanted to say but decide to stay quiet.

He couldn't see what the stranger did to you. He only saw the man falling and stumbling into him. So the fact that he's this pissed off to see you here without even seeing what happened just minutes ago, makes you think he needs a psychiatrist. What would he do if he saw what happened?

“Maybe I want that!” you yell at him. “And there's nothing you can do about it!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to calm down. “What are you doing here.”

“I told you. I was invited.”

“I uninvited you.”

You scoff, “It's not your party, you moron.”

“JK invited you?”

“Yeah.” you shrug just to piss him off some more.

He stares at you for a moment, glaring but you glare back before he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Fine. But you're not leaving my side.”

You scoff but he grabs your shoulders tightly.

“I mean it.”

“Stop touching me.” You slap his hands away, his touch fading away as you're about to open your mouth to curse at him some more.

Before you can do it, someone nudges him from the left side. Your brother is about to pounce but once he sees his best friend in the flesh, he stays down but not before he's reminded of what you told him.

“What are you doing.” He questions your brother but he just scoffs in return.

“You invited her?”

Jungkook rolls his lip piercing as he shrugs, “I did.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Me? You invited her first if I recall.”

Your brother stares at his friend in disbelief before he glances at you. You shrug, lifting your brown.

“You two are fucking unbelievable.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, probably thinking your brother is just dramatic. Which he is. While they're too busy arguing, you don't pay attention to anything that's being said. You shamelessly eye Jungkook, spotting how blurry his lips are from the make out session you witnessed a while ago. He's got a similar outfit like you've seen him during the day. The only difference is that he's wearing all black.

“Listen you two, I will stay out of your sight, okay?”

“No fucking way!” Your brother argues while Jungkook sighs in exhaustion.

“I'm just gonna have a few drinks and meet new people.”

“These people are not for you to meet or be friends with.”

“Who said anything about being friends?” you mutter, causing your brother to curse at you once more.

“No–” He stops you before you can interrupt him, “You invited her, so you will look after her.”

“Me?” JK frowns, disliking the idea. While you would be slightly offended by the lack of interest when it comes to you, you're also irritated that your brother here is acting the same. Only this time he's giving the responsibility to Jungkook.

“Yes, you! You invited her, so you'll watch over her tonight. If anything happens to her, I will personally kill you,”

God. He's so full of himself. If Jungkook wanted, he could knock him out with one punch. But you don't say it to hurt his male ego and boost Jungkook's one. It seems they're full of ego.

“And I'm not joking.”

He brushes past you two and leaves angrily. To probably shove his tongue down to any first girl he sees.

And from the looks of it Jungkook looks like he would rather much do the same. But then he looks at you, reminded of his current responsibility. You.

“Listen–you don't have to look after me–I can handle my–”

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

He stares you down, not in the creepy way to stare at your body but almost looking for anything that could give him answers to his question.

“I've seen what happened.”

“You've seen it?” you breathe out, “I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“I handled it.” you grit through your teeth.

“You did,” he agrees much to your surprise. “Or maybe you were just lucky.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” You trash with your hands, but he catches your wrist. Gently. But he has his hold on you and your breath catches in your throat. He pulls you closer.

“What if it was someone who wouldn't be so wasted? Hm?”

You gulp, glancing at his lips for a split second before you find his dark eyes on yours. “It happened with people around us. Someone would step in.”

He scoffs, “Don't count on it too much.”

“They would–”

“Some of them. Not all of them,” he informs you.

You're reminded that he knows these parties. He knows how it's going. And while no one would mess with him personally, it doesn't mean everyone is as safe as him. Let alone any women. That much you've realized and you haven't even been here for a half an hour.

“What if he waited until you're drunk to take you somewhere else?”

You breathe out shakily, “Stop.”

“What if he dragged you upstairs? And that's just the start of what he might've done.”

“Fucking stop.” you warn him with your eyes but he doesn't budge.

He tames you like you're a fucking dog.

“Your brother's right. You're staying with me.”

“And staring at you making out all night?”

You shut your mouth as soon as your response gets out. Jungkook tilts his head tiniest bit to the side and the corner of his mouth lifts up. “You were watching.”

“It was hard not to. Everyone was watching.”

“That's not an excuse.”

You inch closer, licking your lips. “It wasn't supposed to be.”

He stares at your lips before his touch disappears and so its warmth does. “You're not leaving my side.”

You scoff but he glares at you which surprisingly shuts you up.

“I can give you alcohol, you can have fun. But you're not leaving my side.”

“You're worse than my brother.” That's a stretch and you both know it, but you've never seen Jungkook acting like this. He never really cared. He never had to in the first place. That's what your brother was for.

He inches closer, hovering over you like only his presence can. “I can be worse.”

And somehow, that sounds like a promise. Once he motions for you to follow him, you do like a lost poppy with gritted teeth and anger bubbling inside you. But you don't disobey. Perhaps it's the shock or the weird feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you buzz with excitement.

Fuck.

It's not hard not to have a crush on someone like Jungkook. He's hot, he's confident but not in the way where he's full of himself. He has every reason to be confident.

And just like he promised, he has managed to give you drinks that surprisingly taste good. They're not too strong and something tells you he purposely picked those out for you. You don't complain. They don't cause you to make grimaces at every gulp and you can feel yourself relax. In the corner your brother watches you with glare, reminding you of something that should feel like punishment.

Perhaps it does.

Jungkook has you seated next to him, back on the couch. The woman he made out with sits on the opposite side, sending daggers next to you. You roll your eyes very publicly, scoffing and making sure she sees you.

“JK, can we go somewhere else?” You hear her annoying sweet voice, while Jungkook himself looks slightly irritated that he has you on his watch. “Upstairs?” she suggests.

“Sorry, love, can't.”

She huffs out, “Why? Because you're babysitting?”

You move sideways to face her, leaning through Jungkook as you glare at her. “Maybe he just doesn't want your tongue shoved in his mouth.”

Jungkook sighs, lifting his hand to your collarbones to move you back but you don't budge.

“Oh yeah? He wants more than that.” she informs you.

“God, you're so desperate.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Behave.” Jungkook warns you, pushing slightly harder and finally, you plop back onto your spot and fume with arms crossed.

“Tell your bitch to behave.”

“Y/N.” Jungkook warns through his teeth. You stop, realizing that this is the first time he said your name. Still fuming, you give him a glare before standing up.

“What did you just call me?��

“Come on.” Jungkook stands up too before you can make things worse and he's going to be caught up in a girls fight. This is not the night he planned.

He doesn't drag you like your brother did. He still rests his hand against your back and leads you in a direction. You don't protest. You want to but anything's better than being in the blonde's presence one more second.

When you realize you're standing next to your brother who's leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a knowing and quite pleased smirk.

“Dude. That's enough.”

“Are you having any issue with my sis, JK?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You made your point.”

“No, I don't think I have.”

“You two are annoying.” he sighs, closing his eyes.

“Excuse me? What have I done?” you exclaim, hand on your chest as he gives you a knowing look that shuts you up.

It's more than clear. Jungkook has brought you to your brother, so he could deal with you rather than he has to. It bruises your ego, but only slightly because you don't let any guy do any permanent damage. But you have to be honest. It's slightly embarrassing how he wants to shake you off. Clearly his plans for tonight have been different and watching the blondie still waiting for him patiently makes your night even worse, knowing what exactly he had planned.

“You made me a huge cockblocker, bro.” you interrupt their bickering. It feels refreshing not to be the one bickering with your brother.

Which reminds you that for the first time, you actually see them in some sort of argument even though it's not exactly a fight. Your brother as always is a pain in the ass and Jungkook's now experiencing it. You don't understand why Jungkook just doesn't let you go? Why did he insist on having you by his side at all times?

Most likely, he doesn't want to piss off your brother.

Jungkook throws you yet another glare, but you brush him off pretty easily. “It's not about that.”

You give him a look which makes him groan.

“It's not just about that.”

And then they continue again. Your brother complains about your presence here, blames Jungkook rather than your own decision to come. He knows you. He knows you've done it to mess with him and it worked. But he expected better from Jungkook.

You don't want to hear any second of it any longer. You don't wait for Jungkook's response, not even when you see his frown deepen and you know he's getting angrier by every word your brother spits in his face.

Using the tiny chance where they don't pay you any attention, you distance yourself from them. When you're in a safe distance and are not stopped by one of them, you make a run for it. Grabbing a wine bottle from someone's hold, ignoring them complaining, you make it upstairs and try to find a place where you can be alone. Before they find you.

You know once they notice you're not there, they'll be looking for you. Well, your brother will for sure. Even though he can be a dick, he's worried. But let him. That's what he gets for not letting you enjoy tonight.

Passing by people who either mingle or make out, you try a few doors that are locked. Wise decision. Another reason why Jungkook seems to know how these parties go. It seems almost impossible to find a place where no one is.

Just when you become tired and desperate, you make it to the quieter part of the house. It's weird because there are people everywhere. It's impossible to find somewhere quiet and empty.

Luckily for you, you end up in a room that seems to be some sort of office. It's medium sized, definitely not one of the biggest rooms in this massive house, but still bigger than your kitchen and room together.

It seems Jungkook has forgotten to lock this room. There's nothing special about it though. But he definitely doesn't want anyone to have sex on the wooden desk you pass by. There are a few shelves with books and a lamp, but other than that it's pretty empty. Oh, and there's a small couch. It looks expensive but it seems like they've brought it here just to put it somewhere. Not that it doesn't fit in here.

But it definitely doesn't look as expensive as the furniture you've managed to see in your short stay here. What has it been? Two hours? Two awful hours and no fun.

Making it onto a small balcony, you sigh in relief when you find it open. It's facing the back of the house and your mouth drops when you see a fountain, pool and a garden in the distance. He's filthy rich. His parents are.

Sitting on the cold ground, you take a sip of the wine. Your features scrunch in disgust but you force yourself to drink. It's more from the whole annoyance and anger you've been feeling ever since you came here.

Maybe they were right.

This place is not for you.

You have no idea how long you end up sitting there.

You just stare, hearing the blasting music in the distance and the chatter of people. You wonder if any neighbor called the police on him. But they're in the distance, probably they don't hear it as much.

There's a forest around you. There are no cars, no barking and no city noise. You wonder how this place feels like when there's no party. It must be calm and relaxing.

“Here you are.”

You hear it as soon as the balcony door slides open, ignoring the hint of annoyance in his voice as you take another gulp.

“You can't disappear like that!”

You chuckle, “Really? Watch me.”

“Your brother went crazy when you disappeared.”

“Sounds like a him problem.” you shrug.

“Are you drunk?”

You give him a look, a lazy smile making it onto your face.

“Where did you get that?”

“You know this is the most you've spoken to me since I've known you.” you take a note out loud.

He ignores you though. “You're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a me problem, no?”

“God, you're such a brat,” he groans, “And get off the ground, you're gonna get sick.”

Snorting, you shake your head. “You're acting just like my brother.”

“You're irresponsible.”

That causes you to get a whiplash from how fast you glare at him. “I am not. Y'all act as if I can't do things on my own. Not only does my brother try to control me and watch over my shoulder every goddamn minute, you started doing it too!”

“He's worried about you.”

“Whatever,” you grumble, “Go back to blondie and leave me alone. Or snitch to my brother about my whereabouts, I'm sure he will get me out of here.”

He stays though. He doesn't move and doesn't speak for a moment. Instead, he sighs and sits next to you.

“I wanted you to have fun.”

“Well, that didn't work, did it?”

“Look at you,” he chuckles, nudging lightly on your shoulder. “You seem to have fun on your own.”

“Yeah, spending Valentine's Day alone on the balcony of my brother's best friend is just so much fun.”

He laughs. He actually laughs and gives you an approving nod once he realizes you're right. “You're not alone anymore.”

You give him a look but before he can elaborate, he motions toward the bottle in your hand with his head.

“Give me that.”

“No, this is the only fun I have.”

“C'mon, I will drink with you.”

Your surprise comes out before you give him a suspicious look. “You will?”

“Yeah.” he agrees and takes the bottle you hesitantly give him.

He takes a small sip, not a few gulps as you expect him to. “Is that all you got?”

“For tonight, yeah.”

“Why?” you question.

“I will take you home.”

You scoff, but then he continues.

“After you decide you wanna go home.”

“Really?” Your surprise makes it out again. “You're not gonna kick me out?”

“I would never kick you out.”

You make a face, “But my brother–”

“Your brother can be a dick sometimes.”

“Woah.”

“Don't act like you don't know it.”

“I do, but I'm just surprised you're the one saying it.”

He sets the bottle on the other side of him. It doesn't go unnoticed by you but you decide not to fight with him, especially once you feel the alcohol doing its job.

“Well, I've seen it from his side and I gotta be honest, he's protective. Sometimes overly but he's not doing it because he hates you, y'know?”

“I know he doesn't hate me,” you inform him. “It's just annoying sometimes.”

“But now I've seen more of your side and he should just let you live.”

You nod in appreciation with lips pursed, “Wow, thank you.”

He smiles, “You still do a lot of stuff just to get back at him. You're not making it any easier, huh?”

You laugh, “It's my rebellion.”

You sit there for a moment in complete silence. Jungkook stands up and leaves. You act as if you're not disappointed but before you can reach for the bottle that Jungkook has left here, the door slides open again and Jungkook wraps a blanket around you.

“Don't look so surprised.”

“Wow, JK does something nice for a girl?”

“I can do a lot of nice things.”

“Is there a double-meaning or?” you trail off, causing him to laugh as he shakes his head.

“Not like that.”

Yeah, because you're his brother's best friend.

Not that you would ever want something with him. Only in your most secretive dreams but that's beside the point. Jungkook is not boyfriend material. You've seen it today more than ever. But you can't deny that he attracts you in the weirdest way possible. You have never experienced that with anyone.

He's your type. When it comes to looks. And you're slightly ashamed to admit that some of his behavior attracts you. Basically, it's a red flag but what do they say? I'm color blind?

“How are you not freezing?”

It's February and you're sitting on a balcony.

“I'm drunk.”

God, you're going to end up sick. Even your drunk self scolds you.

“You wanna go home?”

“Not yet.”

He nods, not protesting as you both stare ahead. Your thoughts run wild, even in their slow pace because of alcohol flowing in your system.

“I was so annoyed because today's Valentine's Day,” you start, chuckling at yourself. “At first I thought I was just annoyed because everyone's in love and everything about today is about love. I do think it's overrated though.”

“I don't know, I never cared about it to be honest.”

You laugh, “Did you make today's party for all anti-romanticists?”

“No, I would've done it either way.” he chuckles.

“Did you ever make something romantic for Valentine's Day?”

He makes a face, frowning but silently laughing amusingly at the thought of it. “No.”

“You know what? I think I was more annoyed that secretly maybe I crave for something romantic. Not necessarily a relationship.”

“Or maybe you just feel the pressure of today's ridiculous holiday and people around you.”

You snort, “You're just saying that because you're not in love.”

“Love's not for me. Not that kind at least.”

“And what kind?”

“I loved our family dog.”

You laugh, “That's different. I'm not talking about that.”

“I know you don't. Just sayin', love has all forms.”

You hum, sighing before you start shivering.

“Come on, let's go inside. You're freezing.”

“But–”

“We don't have to go home.”

“Or maybe I should. I'm getting tired. And I think I'm gonna throw up.”

“You were mixing hard liquor with wine. You will.” he agrees and once you nudge him, he laughs at you. “C'mon, you little brat. It's time to go home.”

As he makes sure you don't fall on the stairs, giving you the support you almost stumble when your brother makes his way toward you, breathless and relieved once he sees you.

“Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere. We've been looking for you! Why do you have the blanket?”

“Found her on the balcony.”

“What were you doing there?!” He screeches.

“Don't worry, I wasn't going to jump. But if I'm gonna have to keep up with your annoying ass for one more second, maybe I will.”

“You're drunk.” He scoffs.

“And honest.” you add.

“And where are you going?”

“I'm gonna take her home.” Jungkook answers, helping you with the last step as your brother stares with mouth wide open.

“Like the hell you will! You were drinking.”

“I wasn't,” he responds. “Not since I was with her anyway.”

“Doesn't mean you don't have alcohol in you.”

“I don't. I'm fine.”

You didn't even realize he wasn't drinking anymore. God. You really can be a pain in the ass too. But that's your brother's doing though. He should've never ordered Jungkook to look after you.

“You're the one who reeks of alcohol,” Jungkook informs him calmly, “Or you want someone else to take her?”

He shakes his head, still hesitant. He walks closer to you and wraps the blanket tighter around your form. “Are you gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, I trust Jungkook. Don't you?”

“I do.” He doesn't hesitate.

He gives one final nod to Jungkook as he leads you out of the house. As you're walking out of it, you spot blondie with a group of what seems like her friends, glaring the shit out of you. You stick out your tongue when Jungkook's busy opening the door for you. The look on your face causes you to smirk.

Jungkook gets you inside his flashy car and you're kinda doomed that you're too drunk to look around and appreciate the expensive type of vehicle. You're drifting in and out of your consciousness. But you notice Jungkook stopping in front of a convenience store, informing you he'll be right back. And he is. It seems like he's been gone for a minute because you close your eyes, open them and he's already there.

The drive and walk to your home is quick. You get to walk on your own, much to your embarrassment there are no accidents of stumbling or falling. As soon as you make it past your doormat, you make it inside your bathroom and throw up in the sink. It's embarrassing once you hear Jungkook behind you, helping you with your hair. He doesn't say anything, just letting you throw up everything that's currently in your stomach.

“I should take a shower.”

“Fuck that. Go lay down. I will lock the door.”

“Lock?”

“Your brother gave me his spare keys.”

“Oh.”

After a few minutes of bickering, you still insist on taking a shower. Jungkook sighs and lets you do your own thing, patiently waiting in the living room. Once you make it out in your pajamas that consist of your brother's huge t-shirt, you find him scrolling through his phone.

“You gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You're seconds from passing out. You might've stumbled in the bath a few times but you hope he didn't hear that.

You drag your feet to your bedroom and fall onto bed. You'll cover yourself later. As soon as you lay down, you ignore your spinning head and the disgusting taste of vomit that is still present, even though you've brushed and rinsed your teeth even in your drunken state.

The night is wild.

You throw up a few times, finding a prepared bucket beside your bed but unfortunately, you don't make it into it the first time. Once you wake up with a messy and aching head, you notice vomits on your floor and you cringe at yourself. Disgusting.

You wake up around twelve, finally in a better state to leave your eyes open without having to vomit everywhere. You're about to reach for your phone, knowing you're going to have at least a dozen messages from your brother. But you stop yourself as you stare at things that weren't on your nightstand before.

There's a glass of water. A box of painkillers and a chocolate bar wrapped in a package filled with pink and red hearts.

There's a note stuck to it.

'Happy Valentine's Day, JK'

You stare, reading the note over and over again.

And they say romance is dead.

#jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #personasintro

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tadpolesonalgae · 7 days

Text

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You — Part 23

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: I’m so relieved to finally be getting to this fun part of the story!

word count: 5,699

-Part 22-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Already there’s a horse and cart in the street, trunks and chests neatly stacked in the back, iron padlocks weighing heavy to keep possessions sealed. Blankets and rugs are tied in bundles, bedsheets and pillowcases that you can still smell, remember the feel of them; the warmth they retained. The heat of bare skin flush to your back. Sleepy golden eyes, sharp even when softened by early morning light.

There’s a lump in your throat.

Held between two chests is an open-topped crate, a myriad of personal belongings jumbled about inside: a box you know contains golden rings, his favourite being the one plain band that wraps two hands around his thumb, clinging snugly; a board game you’d tried to play after drinking, back before you’d become closer than friends; wooden goblets with geometric designs burned into their curve; a pair of glasses with circular, coloured lenses. A stack of something wrapped in cloth which must be crockery, ceramic plates with illustrations of crude figures pick-axing ice. A neatly folded quilt is tied down to one of the chests, the one that had been tucked over the back of his armchair, made up of pinks, oranges, magentas, and turquoise. Small tassels hanging off the ends that he’d made himself.

The door to his house is propped open with a wedge crafted of iron, featuring a rabbit in a coat with carrots stuffed in his pockets. Bas’ figure emerges from the comparative darkness lofting a second, smaller crate in his arms. His eyes find yours but he makes no reaction save for the tightening of the skin at his knuckles. He exits through the waist-high wooden gate, walking to the back of the cart to heft the crate in front of the one your eyes had been previously resting on. “Hi,” you say, stepping closer but pausing a respectful distance away. Bas makes no sign of acknowledgement, muscles in his forearms flexing as he hefts the crate into place, pressing it flush to the back. You consider walking away—he clearly isn’t interested in speaking with you, but… “You’re leaving already?”

Bas turns, his expression unchanging, still retaining the frown of concentration from transporting heavy objects to and fro but seemingly colder now you’ve appeared. His stature casts a shadow over you. “Something you want?” He asks, tone clipped but not quite sharp enough to be impatient. Softened at the end. You watch him for a moment—nothing seems sufficient enough or appropriate. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I miss you’, ‘how are you’. Would any of those suffice? You can’t imagine them doing so. Instead you shift on your feet, casting a portion of your attention to the moving wagon standing stationary at the foot of his front garden. “It looks like you’ll be gone soon,” you observe, speaking quieter than normal for an open day. After a beat, Bas folds his arms over his chest. “Either tomorrow or the day after.” Golden eyes shift to the cart, glancing over the trunks, “Ma’s still got a few things to pack, but once those are loaded we’ll be off.”

Off and gone to the Winter Court, almost entirely out of your reach. You only have six months left to live—do you have enough time to spend on giving him space? You can’t expect him to forgive you so suddenly, so swiftly. People aren’t made like that. But can you risk that time? If you die before seeing him again, or if this is the last time you see him you can’t risk being anything other than honest. But being honest in a situation like this…you need the time to pass to give it the deserved weight. Springing your timeline on him… You don’t want to tell him like this. So instead you look over your shoulder, glancing back into his house. “Got any more boxes that need carrying?”

“Carrying boxes isn’t going to fix shit,” Bas mutters, the poisoned tone catching you off guard. Have you earned yourself that venom? Apparently so.

“I just want to help,” you murmur, looking back at him. “I might not get to see you again.”

“Your sister’s High Lady. I’m sure reaching Winter Court would hardly require a lift of her fingertips,” Bas snaps. His lips press themselves together, like he regrets the outburst. You look down, peering at the cobbles beneath your feet and give a small shake of your head. “I… If you don’t want me there, I won’t visit.” The words sting your throat like bile, hating how they sound on your tongue. “If you want your space I won’t intrude. But it… Obviously I’d like to be able to see you again.”

A few beats pass without a reply, the quiet resting on your shoulders and you make an effort not to let it ruin the moment. You clear your throat, shaking off the mood and glancing up at him, “So. Any crates I can take?” Your heart quickens—if he denies you here it’s a full stop. You can’t imagine you’d be able to find him again if you lose him. The Winter Court is large, and their ties already strained with the Night Court—there’ll be no strings to pull. But it’s his decision now. It’s in his hands.

Bas’ jaw works, his eyes narrowing on you in a way they haven’t done in a long time, but it seems he relents, nodding once toward his house, a loc falling across his temple with the sharp movement. “There are two small boxes in the front entrance, one contains shoes and fabrics, and the other contains herbs. Herbs go on top, yeah?” You nod your head, keeping the smile locked up tight. “Herbs go on top.”

The box full of shoes is surprisingly weighty and you wonder if there are more than a few pairs of boots inside, studded with metal that might be weighing the crate down in your arms. Still you manage, sliding it into place on the last row of space available in the wagon before heading back to collect the box of herbs. You can pick out some of the scents: tarragon, mint, thyme. A hint of pepper and cardamon. The slight warmth of cinnamon and ginger. Rosemary. “I won’t forgive you if you try and make off with my herb box,” a voice calls from further inside.

You start, gripping the small chest tight.

Bas is watching from the living room doorway that leads to the hallway, stairs appearing behind him and the kitchen a little further beyond. It’s disturbing in a surreal way, to be standing inside the bones of his home. Gone are the dried herbs and flowers that had been strung along the walls and ceiling beams, rug removed from the floors and furniture sparse of cushions and quilts. Everything that made it a home, every personal detail seems to have been painstakingly stripped away, leaving only that scent of rosemary and freshly tilled earth that has familiarity stretching aching limbs in your chest.

You summon a huff of laughter, glinting down at the plain chest. “It’s certainly tempting me…” You remember trying foods with him. Things you didn’t have access to in the woods. Dishes you wouldn’t have had access to even if you’d remained in high society. All the different herbs and spices they have here, in Prythian. The range of climates allowing for a variety of taste to grow. You remember the first time he’d soaked chicken in wine among other things, how the meat had tasted a little more bearable, flavoured and soft and tender. Feeling more like meat than leather, without the salty burn to help preserve the food.

“One more upstairs then it’s on Ma.” Bas’ statement cuts through the silent memories washing through, bringing a tremble to your fingertips but you nod. Once you load this chest into the wagon then it’s done on your end. Nothing to keep the conversation going. You manage a small smile but don’t meet his eyes as you turn with the chest in hand, walking it out to the cart and loading it in. From inside you pick out the footfalls of Bas descending the staircase and you stand back to give him room. He slides the box into place and lifts the panels of wood that will prevent any trunks from sliding out on an uphill, latching it in place. Safe and secure.

For some reason you can’t look at him. As if looking at him will mean acknowledging it’s over, and he’s going away.

For a moment you simply stand alongside the wagon, neither sure what to say, what to do now the shared task has been completed. Now it’s time for another decision to be made.

Bas breaks the silence. “Thanks for the help.” You look at him, running your eyes over his expression, trying to gain hints to what’s okay to reply with. Trying to make the right choices. “Thanks for letting me help,” you reply, clearing your throat and glancing back to the wagon. Bas pats his hand once against the wood, shifting to lean his weight against the structure. “We’re going to be heading up northeast first,” he tells you and your ears prick with hope. “Ma’s got a sister who lives around there—near the coast. They haven’t spoken in a long time, but she figured if we’re moving it would be good to let her know.”

You nod your head slowly. “Have you met your aunt before?” Bas shrugs his shoulders, his eyes skating across belongings piled up in the back, “don’t think so. Not one I can remember, at least.” You nod again, looking toward the cobbles. You should be going. Letting him get on with packing up and moving. “I hope-” Your voice catches and you have to clear your throat, swallowing a breath. Looking up a little to meet his eyes. “I hope things are better for you, wherever you go. For you and your mother.” Is that too far? Have you pushed too much? Bas seems to be asking himself the same questions, and you hope he comes to a different conclusion.

“Pa mentioned a statue to me once,” he says softly. “One made entirely out of ice, with snakes carved, wrapping around the feet of the first High Lord of the Winter Court. Apparently it’s about the height of one of the Old Pine’s and every scale of the snake’s skin was carved by the same hand.” Bas shifts, his golden eyes locking with yours. “I hadn’t thought much of it, but we’ll be trying to find a spot around that statue since it’s where Pa grew up. Something he remembered from his childhood.”

Your heart falls numb for a second before skipping into a swift pulse, bumping against your ribs and you take in a subtle breath. You nod your head. Ice statue with snakes. Relief strikes so hard your legs are weakened, having to shift your weight from one hip to the other so a knee doesn’t buckle. “I hope you get to see it,” you manage, sounding strained before you swallow, nodding your head. “I hope you find what you’re looking for there.”

Bas’ mouth tightens into something that might have been a smile, then he’s nodding his head once in reply and patting the cart again. “I need to check on Ma now—see how she’s managing with packing.” He pushes off from the wagon, and you turn to watch him pass through the waist-high garden gate. He pauses.

“Give me some time though, yeah? I need…time. Some space. Let me adjust and settle down for a bit.”

You nod your head, happy enough he seems to be allowing you to visit. You can work from there. Earn back his trust. You realise he has his back turned and can’t see you, so offer your reply, “I will.” You want to say more. I’ll miss you until then. I’m sorry. Thank you.

But, time.

You still have some of that left to give.

————

You take your time walking back to the River House, following the Sidra for some way. Affording yourself the allowance to peer in shop windows, gaze at people going about their lives, wondering about what their own stories are.

You’re happy Bas decided to tell you. Not just about where he would be moving to but about the route he’d be taking to bypass his aunt. You know he didn’t have to tell you. You weren’t entitled to that knowledge, but he decided to tell you anyway. A small piece of forgiveness—a small, tentative first step. After so much darkness in your life it seems like a tiny star twinkling in the sky, clouds parting just long enough to catch a glimpse. A promise that there is good in the world, and if you’re in a bad place now it would be foolish to stop.

You need to keep going in order to escape it.

————

The kitchen is surprisingly full when you enter the entry way, discarding your cloak and outer layers to the hooks on the walls, taking care to ease out the ties of your boots before also discarding them alongside other sets.

Inside there’s no need for jumpers or cloaks, fleeces or scarves. A muffled pop of a log sounds from the living room, honestly sounding closer to someone stepping heavily on an upper floorboard but there’s something about the warmth that tells you the fire’s lit. That and you can make out the faded orange flicker on the wall parallel to the living room’s door where flame light is colouring the cream wallpaper. The smell of heated food catches your attention and your stomach shifts in response, squeezing itself together in complaint as if to remind you of how empty it is. Some warmed bread and butter would be lovely to start the day with. There might even be some chilled clotted cream available in the ice-enchanted larder.

Rounding the corner, you’re sure you haven’t ever seen the kitchen so full. Glancing at the clock mounted on the wall beside the crockery cabinet however, you realise it’s approaching lunch time. You suppose it makes sense—if Madja’s at ten O’clock and you left after that to visit Bas, then taking your time to walk back will have brought you to lunch. That would explain the business.

Already there’s crackling from cooking oil on the stove, the smell of heated bread and salt, the slight fattiness of meat mixing with the sweetness of sliced fruit coming from another side of the large kitchen. An egg cracks and you hear the sizzle of it as it hits the pan, the knock of steel as it slices into a chopping board, the smell of chives, onions, and tomatoes greeting you next. On the main table sits sliced bread, baked through with diced olives and rosemary, butter sitting ready for the taking on a platter with a flattened knife propped on the tray’s side.

Feyre, Mor, and Amren are already seated at the table, each with a plate of what appears to be mashed potato surrounded by steamed beans and thickly cut ovals of tender meat. Amren's plate holds meat more that anything else. Feyre tips a deep boat of spiced sauce over her mash so it drizzles atop the vegetables before passing the boat to Mor, seeming not to care they’re eating in the kitchen rather than the connected dining room. Nesta barks something at Cassian over the loud fritz of the oil and he passes two plates to her side before returning to the chopping board, a few moments later stepping close to her side to slide the sliced chives into the pan with the eggs. A shadow whisks past you into the room, depositing salt and pepper to the side of the stove before hurriedly returning the way it had come. You turn your head quick enough to catch as it scampers back to the upper floors, disappearing through the ceiling.

At a side along the window-lined wall is Elain, pressing her fork into some well-mashed banana before scraping it off onto some toasted bread, already softened with butter. You make your way over, taking the serrated bread knife from beside her plate to cut a slice yourself, liking the look of the thick crust and seed-scattered bread. Her eyes find you and a smile follows swiftly after, taking in your appearance, “Was it you I heard come in?” You nod, holding the bread firmly as you grind the knife forward to cut the crust, “I forgot to eat breakfast before heading out and lost track of time.”

Pulling a plate down from one of the stacks inside a cabinet with a window in you move the slice from the chopping board, “You’re having lunch?” Elain’s cheeks warm, her lips tightening as she looks guiltily out onto the front garden. “My sleep was troubled,” she admits, “I only awoke around ten thirty this morning.”

Your brows furrow. “You’re sleeping poorly?”

“It seems that way.” Elain exhales, pausing the sweep of her knife across the mashed banana. “It’s just the same thing over and over again. I wish the beginning would fade now it’s passed but apparently I must watch the whole sequence from start to finish.”

She’s still getting the vision?

You look away from her—down to the side table, “I’m sorry.” But Elain shakes her head, sighing once more before straightening her shoulders. “I’m okay. It’s just a bit of lost sleep.” Before you can ask her anymore however, the sound of footsteps catch your attention, Rhysand and Azriel apparently having finished up whatever had been keeping them from joining the lunch. Elain pushes a smile to her lips then gestures with her eyes to the table, suggesting taking a seat. You follow after her.

“Finally given up work to grace us with your presence?” Feyre muses, resting her chin atop the smooth skin of her tough knuckles. Rhysand lifts a brow, his mouth curving with a fondness specifically meant for his mate, “I gave you plenty of attention this morning, Feyre.” But your youngest sister doesn’t blush like you would have had a lover repeated those same words for you. Instead her mouth matches his curve, blue-grey eyes alight with twinkling mischief as she inclines her head toward Azriel. “In fact I was speaking to your Shadowsinger. His presence is much more appreciated.” The male in question dips his head by a degree, taking his seat beside Amren as silently as possible while the High Lord and Lady continue their domestic teasing.

“Is that so?” Rhysand remarks, seating himself in the chair to Feyre’s right, opposite Mor. “Will you tell me what’s so much more appreciated about my brother’s presence than my own?” Feyre arches a brow, her smile widening, “I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego, preening and engorged as it is.” Rhys’ expression shifts to something verging on smug but Mor stabs a thick oval of meat with her fork, lifting it from the plate, shifting it between Rhys and Feyre, “enough from both of you. I don’t want to hear this over lunch.” The compass point of her fork settles on her cousin, Mor’s nose wrinkling, “Az also isn’t a smug bastard, unlike someone else I can think of.”

Elain takes the open seat beside Rhysand and opposite Amren, setting her plate down and drawing her chair back, leaving you to stiffly take the one at her side, across from Azriel. What poor seating choices you’ve all made.

Behind Amren and Azriel, Nesta presses to Cassian’s side who’s holding the plates aloft, keeping them steady as Nesta transfers the four eggs in the pan between them, two soft yolks for the two slices of buttered bread atop each plate.

“Azriel also remembered to bring me blood more frequently than yourself, Rhys,” Amren drawls from opposite Elain, a wicked croon on her crimson-cut mouth. “Even when he didn’t want information from me,” she adds pointedly. Rhys tilts his head, a plate appearing out of thin air before him on the table along with cutlery and a napkin, “and who’s to say those weren’t gifts sent along from myself?” But Amren doesn’t fall for it, reaching for a glass of red wine, “You won’t fool me, boy.” Rhysand shrugs his shoulders, unbothered by her relaxed attitude. “I suppose if you were still of the inclination to accept bottles of lamb’s blood you’d be receiving a box’s worth. I have a request to make of you.”

Amren inclines her head, the black cut of her hair slicing along her sharp jaw, faint interest in her silver eyes, “Pray tell”.

Nesta casts salt and pepper over the plates of eggs and chives, then the two of them join the table. As Cassian departed before Nesta, he fills the seat to your right, while Nesta settles in the space opposite him, to Azriel’s left. The only way the current arrangement could be made worse is if Rhysand and Elain were to swap seats. You grimace internally and treasure her presence.

The High Lord inclines his head to Azriel whose shadows settle a map of Prythian to the centre of the kitchen table. “Cassian and Nesta have already checked through Helion’s libraries. That means excluding the Night Court, there are five other Courts to examine.” As he speaks, thin shadow seeps across the parchment to darken the land of Night and Day, signalling they’ve each been studied.

“Between us,” Rhysand continues, “we can split between those remaining Courts, in turn accessing their libraries. Where I’ll need your help, dear Amren, is translating the books we encounter in the Old Language. I would rather not have to take them all on myself.” Rhysand pauses, lifting violet eyes from the map to the slight female diagonal from his seat, “What do you say?”

Amren seems to consider his request and you have to fathom how respected she is to so idly take her time considering a request from a High Lord. A few beats pass as her grey eyes trace the island, then blood red lips are cutting into a grin, moon-white teeth flashing in her mouth, “I think I’m going to enjoy opening my Solstice presents this year.”

Rhysand smiles and you wonder if he was confident Amren would accept or whether this was a gamble on his part. Feyre would probably be able to tell.

Across from the High Lord, Mor clinks her glass with Amren’s, the two females grinning from the other side of the table. There’s a smile on Feyre’s face but you imagine it’s one of those ones that rather than being of your own choice is truly the result of the infectious kind of happiness—seeing people you love enjoying themselves.

From the other end of the table however, Nesta is studying the map, her silver eyes not even scanning the table before they’re finding Rhysand—suitably distanced from one another. “Five courts and seven of us. I would think you and Feyre would be remaining in the Night Court, leaving us with a court each,” Nesta points out, her tone verging on mild boredom. Steel glints in her hands as cutlery catches the light. “Do you intend for us each to cover the libraries of a court, or do you possess secret reinforcements on hand?”

The beat of pause that follows her inquiry stretches a fraction of a second longer than it normally would, the tensing as if preparing for a collision to occur as it always feels when those two acknowledge one another. But Rhysand inclines his head to his right and the tension dissipates as swiftly as it had gathered. “I wouldn’t call your sisters secrets,” he muses, slowly. “But yes: reinforcements.”

You blink.

From the stiffness of Elain’s shoulders you imagine this is news to her, too, which brings you some level of comfort. More comfort when Elain is the one who meets Rhysand’s gaze, asking, “scouring the libraries for—what?” The relief settles deep. This setting is mildly frightening as it is without the pressure of handling easily observable interactions with others.

Rhysand’s attention settles onto Elain but you get the strange feeling it’s somehow also extending to yourself, “I believe Lucien mentioned the matter of the Prison.” Violet eyes flick over to you. “And that Feyre offered an explanation of the situation last night?” You avoid an answer by diverting your own attention to Elain who is still watching the High Lord. She nods.

“Would you be willing to help?” Rhysand asks, without much preamble.

Help? Help how? If it means coming into contact with a single creature that’s supposed to be inside that Prison your answer has to be a firm no. If it means attempting to wield even an ounce of your magic that seems to be sucking the marrow from your bones every passing day your answer has to be a firm no. If it means-

Your thinking time comes to an end when Elain nods her head, and violet eyes once again flick past her onto yourself. Decision time.

You shift in your seat, unwilling to offer a definite answer, “If I can.”

The High Lord nods and again you wonder if it was a gamble in relying on your help. As Nesta pointed out, one each to a Court seems an impossible task. But how are two extras going to aid that task? You’d have to pair up, but there would still not be enough of you. This seems to be Rhysand’s next subject matter as he again nods to Azriel, shadows pulling the map closer to the centre of the table so all can see it. Besides you, Cassian’s torso blocks out light as he leans forward, wings casting shadow upon the floor as you each examine the map with new eyes.

“So who’s tasked with which Court?” The General asks, “And who’s taking a solo trip?”

Instinctively you’d imagine Azriel and Mor would be the two to travel solo—they seem to be the most suited to handling a task like this on their own, but what do you know?

“Well you certainly won’t be visiting Summer Court after obliterating that building,” Mor deadpans.

“It shouldn’t have been built there,” Cassian replies with a look of mischief.

Leaning closer, Nesta nods her head to the map, “I don’t think Spring Court is a good idea for Cassian and I. I could manage Tamlin but I threatened him the last time I saw him.” Cassian’s smile widens. You guess it makes sense those two would be a pair. “If Summer Court is off the table then we’ll take either Dawn Court or Autumn Court.”

Right.

Someone’s going to have to scour the Autumn Court.

Besides you, Elain clears her throat. “I could go to the Spring Court.” She shifts in her seat, nodding to the lower portion of fae-inhabited lands. “I’m sure if I asked, Lucien would be willing to accompany me, and we have an alliance with them, too. I don’t imagine the High Lord of Spring being a great threat to myself but he certainly won’t be to Lu.” It’s a surprisingly sound argument. But if Elain pairs with Lucien than means you’ll be either with Mor or Amren—unless you could remain here and help search any other books in the Night Court with Feyre.

Just as you’re about to offer the option however, Azriel speaks. “Are your ties with Viviane still sustaining, Mor?”

Mor nods her head though her smile fades almost imperceptibly.

The Shadowsinger nods. “If Mor handles the Winter Court, and Elain and Lucien take the Spring Court, that leaves Dawn, Summer, and Autumn between the rest of us.” Azriel’s shadows shift, further darkening the Courts now with assigned explorers. “Feyre and Rhysand will be staying here, taking care of ruling and the Illyrian texts?”

The High Lord nods his head, “I’ll be covering the Hewn City, too, and splitting any ancient books between Amren and myself. Feyre will be helping with newcomers.”

“And if Cassian and Nesta are planning to move together that leaves the Summer Court,” Azriel states, hazel eyes find your own set across the table, “which you and I will cover.”

You try to convince yourself the silence that passes over the table doesn’t stretch like you think it does.

Hazel eyes hold yours for a second longer before returning back to the map, the Summer Court now tentatively cast in shadow. “That means Cassian and Nesta can take either Dawn or Autumn, but one pair will have to take two courts.”

At your side, Elain fumbles. “She could come with me,” Elain pushes, “I’m sure she could help in Spring.”

“Or with me and Cassian,” Nesta presses.

“She could stay here,” Feyre adds, then turns to Rhysand. “Besides, the Summer Court libraries are part of the Old Temple they have which are deep in the jungle, aren’t they?” Her blue-grey eyes fall to the map, brows pinched, standing from her chair and Mor slides the map along so Feyre can jab her nail to the thick jungle of the Summer Court, an X marked in its middle. “Those jungles are dense, aren’t they,” Nesta adds, glancing to Cassian, a hard look on her face, “no flying overhead.”

“Which is why we should be the ones to go,” Azriel says, keeping calm but firm.

Nesta narrows her eyes, silver boring into the male at her side. “The creatures in that jungle are magical, like most of the beasts spread across Prythian. Not to mention poison and venom, and parasites in water streams unless you know which are fresh and safe to drink from. Even the beetles can be lethal, so unless you take a guide which may alert your presence in a foreign court, it will be too dangerous.”

“Then it’s perfect that she can tell the difference between the poisonous creatures and the harmless ones.”

Azriel holds Nesta’s gaze for a beat before turning to you. “You’ve read about the jungle haven’t you. About the creatures inside?”

You mentioned the spiders the other day.

“I can go with her instead,” Nesta says, eyes sharpening.

“You won’t be able to protect her as well as I can.” There’s no condescension in his statement, just fact. She’s learning from him and Cassian how to fight, after all. How to wield a blade.

Nesta’s eyes remain sharp, not straying a second from their target. The temperature seems to rise, air thickening. You swallow, tongue flicking out over dry lips, “I could tell them apart.”

“No. You already have a limited life-span; you aren’t shortening it any further,” Nesta says calmly, her eyes still piercing into Azriel. And yet it’s Elain who shifts again in her seat, sitting straighter, “If she says she can tell the difference, she can tell the difference.” Elain looks over to you, a small smile on her lips. “She’s the best one to send to the Summer Court.”

A muscle flickers in Nesta’s jaw, a few, heavy moments of tension weighing through the room that have your pulse spiking for no discernible reason. Then it ends, and Nesta looks back to the map. “So Cassian and I will take the Dawn Court and the Autumn Court.”

“You’ll only be taking the Dawn Court.” At the sound of Rhysand’s voice, Nesta’s eyes turn pure silver for a fraction of a second.

She arches a narrow brow, her expression sharper than an Illyrian blade. “So you’ll send Mor instead?” She asks, the hiss of slicing steel underlying her honed tone. “Or do you think you can get Lucien to squeeze his way back into his home-Court?” There’s a dangerous challenge in her silver eyes.

“Neither,” the High Lord answers, slowly. “Feyre, Amren, and I will remain here. Myself searching the libraries the priestess’ cannot cover, Amren for backup on the ancient texts, and Feyre with helping as we begin a slow evacuation of the towns surrounding the Prison as a precaution and preventative. Mor will cover Winter, Elain and Lucien will cover Spring, and you and Cassian will cover Dawn.”

Even Feyre’s looking at him strangely.

“The Summer Court boarders the Autumn Court,” Rhysand states. “We can’t afford to waste time making extra journeys.”

So you and Azriel will be taking both the Summer Court, and the Autumn Court.

Rhysand breaks his gaze with Nesta only to find your eyes further along the table. They’re steadfast. Grounded. “Will you manage that?”

Why put that decision on you?

You look across the table to Azriel—why had he of all people volunteered to pair up with you? His logic checks out, but wouldn’t Mor have been able to ward off any magical creatures? Then again, your relationship with Mor isn’t the best…

Azriel gives no clue to his emotions, other than a subtle incline of his head.

Your throat rolls, but you force yourself to look back at Rhysand, and offer a nod of your head, “I can manage.”

All seven Courts are ensconced in shadow.

————

You sigh as you settle into bed, tucking yourself close between the duvet and mattress. Plumping the pillow beneath your cheek as you curl your knees to your chest.

You’ll be leaving in three days, but bypassing a coastal town Northeast of Velaris. The condition of you entering the Summer Court jungle was you’d at least have some kind of protection other than Azriel. The sea-town is also the only town outside of Illyria that will sell Illyrian blades, and Illyrian leather from the wild oxen that inhabit the unforgiving terrain of the steppes, its hide significantly tougher to compete with the rocky climate and freezing nights.

You don’t like the idea of having to carry a blade of your own, but you suppose, knowing some of the creatures within, you’d rather be with it than without it. Although you’ve yet to decide whether you’ll be visiting Autumn first or Summer.

But that’s a decision for tomorrow.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya @starlitlakes @kksbookstuff @feerique @ratgirl2020 @just-m-2

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#azriel x reader #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader series #can’t bring myself to hate you #can’t bring myself to hate you chapter 23 #azriel angst

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

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nìfnu

nìfnu [nɪ.ˈfnu] adv. silently

Anonymous Request: Can I have a story where it’s Ao’nung x Metkayina Reader who’s deaf and a sweetheart. When the Sullys arrive she doesn’t really interact with them so when they see Ao’nung being kind and protective towards her it they feel confused? Just pure fluff.

Lo'ak leans over and nudges his older sister, Kiri, forcefully on the arm.

"Ouch!" she yelps. "What, Lo'ak?"

He points, and she follows the line from his finger. It leads her eyes to Ao'nung, just a few paces down the beach from them, and he's with a Metkayina girl that Kiri doesn't recognize. She's tall, nearly as tall as Ao'nung, with her long hair pulled back into one large, thick braid. She wears a thin, shiny net over her shoulders, and Kiri notes how pretty it is. It glimmers in the sun. Kiri also notes how, even though Ao'nung and this girl are above walker, they are using the hand-speak to communicate.

"That girl. Neteyam tried to talk to her earlier, but she ignored him. And there she is, being so nice to Ao'nung. Who's an asshole."

Kiri elbows her sibling. "To you, he is. He looks like he's being perfectly friendly to that girl. And, I mean, she's very pretty."

"Why are they using the hand speak? They're not in the water."

Kiri shrugs. "How should I know? Stop elbowing me when you want something, Lo'ak. It hurts."

He groans and rolls his eyes, and turns his attention back to Ao'nung and the girl who rejected Neteyam.

"How are they adjusting?" I sign to Ao'nung, who shrugs and rolls his eyes. It's no secret that he resents having to teach the newcomers their ways, but I think it's nice. Ao'nung needs to humble himself sometimes, be more like his kind little sister.

"They are slow," Ao'nung signs in return. "I don't want to teach them. It's a waste of my time."

I reach out, pushing on his arm a little. "They seem sweet to me, especially the little one. Try to have patience with them. I would offer to help, but they don't know how to talk to me."

"Yet," he replies, and I smile.

"Yet."

Neteyam asks Tsireya about the girl, Y/N, the next day. He's noticed that she only uses hand-speak as well, and wonders.

"She can't hear," Tsireya says. "She's only spoken that way her whole life."

Neteyam could smack himself. He'd taken her silence as harsh rejection, when really, she just wasn't able to respond to him.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "She's, uh, really beautiful."

Tsireya laughs and smiles. "She is, but I wouldn't trouble yourself. Ao'nung has been in love with her for years." She throws a glance to her brother over her shoulder, but he's too busy making fun of Lo'ak to hear.

"Ao'nung?" Neteyam replies hardly, and Tsireya laughs even harder.

"I know. He has a soft spot for her, and her for him. If you want to compete, you'll have to learn hand-speak."

Neteyam shakes his head. She's beautiful, but not worth getting in a fight with the chief's son over. He'll just have to admire her from afar.

Though I can't speak, I am very proficient in reading lips. This helps me observe conversations from far away; as long as I have a clear view of someone's face, I can usually figure out what they're saying.

"Ao'nung has been in love with her for years."

That's what Tsireya said, and though she was smiling, it didn't seem as if she was joking. I dropped the plate of fruit I was carrying when she said it.

Is it true? Has Ao'nung been in love with me, and I haven't noticed?

Fruit is scattered all around my feet, and I bend over to begin gathering it again, every interaction I've had with Ao'nung recently playing over in my mind. If Tsireya is right, maybe I have been blind.

Ao'nung has always been kind, and patient and gentle with me. I knew he wasn't like that with many people, but I thought it was most likely out of pity for my condition - not out of love of affection.

A hand reaches out, picking up fruit and dropping it into my basket, and I look up to see Ao'nung himself.

Feeling flustered, I stand up, kicking the fruit basket once again, undoing all my work.

"Are you okay?" Ao'nung signs. I tuck my hair behind my ears, feeling a little speechless. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Tsireya," I sign, "she told the new boy, the oldest one, that you are in love with me. Is she just teasing him, because he thinks I'm pretty?"

"He said he thinks you're pretty?" Ao'nung signs back, quickly and furiously, glancing over his shoulder at where his sister still sits with the newcomers.

I shove his shoulder. "Yes! Answer my question."

"Well... come with me." Ao'nung reaches out, grabbing my hand and therefore silencing me, and pulls me away from the beach. We move through many huts, past the fires, and to the edge of the beach, where the sparse forest and rocks begin. Here, we are alone.

"Ao'nung!" I exclaim, breathless. "What's going on?"

He rubs his forehead. "I had a plan, to tell you. It wasn't going to be like this. I'm going to kill Tsireya."

I stand, silent, waiting for him to finish. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my palms are shaking; I'm not sure I could speak, even if I wanted to.

"For a long time, I have loved you, Y/N. I have tried to be more... understanding, and gentle, the way you deserve. But it's hard for me. I wanted to be better, before I told you. Before I asked you to be my mate."

Unable to control myself, I gasp, and bring my hands up to my mouth.

Me, the mate to the next Olo'eyktan? It's unimaginable.

"Your parents approve the match?" I ask.

Ao'nung smiles at me softly. "Of course. When I told them how much I love you, they couldn't object. They believe you will make a wonderful Tsahik, because you are so kind and understanding. My mother will teach you everything you need to know - if you want."

That thought alone is a little overwhelming, since Ronal can be so intimidating, but I also imagine she can be a good teacher.

And really, that doesn't matter. What matters is the way I feel when I'm with Ao'nung; special, adored, loved, doted upon. I feel safe with Ao'nung. I feel seen and most importantly, heard.

"I would be proud to be your mate, Ao'nung. So proud. Of course, I love you."

The smile that spreads across his face transforms Ao'nung from the sullen, anxious, grouchy man most have come to know him as. It turns him into the carefree, light and happy man he is when the two of us are together.

I am proud to make him smile like that. I promise myself then, to make him smile like that every day, for the rest of our lives.

#ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung fic #aonung x reader #aonung fic

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imnameimswrld · 5 months

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. . . ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐒𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ¹ ׄ ⑅ MV1 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ

— DESCRIPTION ੭ in short, you're done standing back when mr verstappen thinks he can push around your boyfriend like he wants.

— PAIRING ੭ max verstappen x gf!reader.

— FILE ੭ imagine.

— DISCLAIMERS ੭ 🔞 mdni, suggestive content, language, light mention of verbal abuse, max's parents are still together and he's dad's a total ass, also (currently) unedited.

❪ main masterlist | f1 masterlist | max verstappen masterlist ❫

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

Dinner was going so perfectly; aside from the lovely food, you too indulged in all the hilarious and adorable stories Mrs Verstappen had been so vibrantly been dishing out for you. Max was red in the face with embarrassment, your hand comfortable in his as he caresses it in his lap.

His siblings would join in on the conversation whenever they saw the opportune moment to shut down whatever lie their brother concocted on the spot to try and get himself out of a playful scolding from his mom, and it all just warmed your heart to see how happy he seemed in the moment.

But then, someone just had to speak up from his quiet spot at the head of the table and piss all over his content mood.

"Max, meet me outside for a drink. I'd like to talk to you."

To the ears of a stranger Mr Verstappen's words would sound like a simple request, to which Max could easily decline and just continue sitting in the comfortability of his family. However, you've been around for long enough to recognize that tone; it's no request.

It's an order.

His father stands, wine glass in hand, and steps away without another word as he leaves towards the back door. Once he's gone, a shivering silence settles over the table. His siblings look everywhere but their brother, Mrs Verstappen all but sighs softly and starts to clean up the table, and Max stares done at your hand in his.

"Max," you start, tightening your grip. "Just, stay here," you try, and when he looks up with a small smile that does nothing but claw at your heart, you try another tactic. "Or let's just go home. We can have some ice-cream, watch that weird documentary you're you're obsessed with, I can even-"

"I'll be only a few minutes schatjie, then we can leave, okay ?" he rubs over your hand, probably hoping it would ease your racing your heart.

It doesn't.

"Max," you begin again, hesitant eyes watching as he rises from his chair beside you and gently places your hands in your own lap.

"Help mom clean up, will you please ? I'll be back in a minute love." you want to protest yet again, but nothing comes out of you parted lips when he places a kiss to the crown of your head, before walking away, softly shutting the sliding door to the backyard behind him.

Taking a breath, you try to calm yourself as you stand to help Mrs Verstappen with clearing the table. You try your best to focus on anything else, but knowing that all his father is doing right now is being mean and belittling his son is gnawing at your insides in a way that has molten hot anger simmering in your gut.

Everyone in Max's family are such lovely, kind people – and then you get his poor excuse of a father.

You don't even realise you have the ends of the table cloth balled up in your molded right fists until there's a sharp poke in your ribs. Turning, you gaze meets eyes that so closely resemble Max's, it almost always makes you smile.

"Go." Victoria nods her head towards the back door, and you momentarily look back, before meeting his eyes that match the worry you feel inside.

It's just one word, but it holds all the emotions she's feeling and with hos strong they are, it gives you the green light. With a short nod, you turn on your heel and take long, determined strides towards the glass door.

When you open it, it seems your disrupt the conversion at just the right moment.

"She's going to become a distraction, Max. All you've worked for and currently working towards, is going to be for nothing."

"I sorely disagree, sir."

The two men's heads whirl at the sudden entrance of your voice, and the confidence that colours your face has Max weak in his knees, feeling as if he's falling in love with you all over again.

His father's spine straightens at the sight of you as you join Max by his side, his arm instinctively coming up to rest his hand at the small of your back.

"This conversation does not concern you, Ms L/N."

You hum once with a bitter smile. "From what I heard, Mr Verstappen, it seems as it does."

He locks his jaw, hand tightening around his wine glass so harshly you think it's just seconds from shattering in his hand.

"Max, I've told you to keep this one in check before she-"

"Do not speak of her as if she's not right in front of you, Jos," Max's gaze darkens to the blue of the bottom of the ocean, and it has your insides curling in pride.

He only ever truly gets upset when his father disrespect you, otherwise he just stands quietly to entertain the nonsense coming out of his mouth, knowing he'll soon leave and enjoy all the true love you shower him I'm everyday later.

"And quite frankly, I like my girlfriend exactly how she is," he smirks, fingers massaging the revealing skin of your back from the cropped shirt you were wearing. "Snippy tongue and all."

It's true, you smile; he especially loves it when you have that same tongue down his throat, or wrapped around his cock.

It seems Max has that same thought in mind, because despite his father's furious gaze staring down at him, he can't seem to rid the naughty smirk from hid face, his hand now sliding down to fall into your back pocket.

He squeezes once, and you bite down on your tongue to keep the moan back.

"Now, if you're done trying to convince me what a failed son I am, I'm going to head home with my snippy-tongued girlfriend." he pats your jean-clad ass one softly, before pulling his hand to wrap his arm around your waist.

"Dag Jos. Ik hoop dat ik je blijf irriteren, het is mijn favoriete spel ( Bye Jos. I hope I continue to piss you off, it's my favouritesport !) !" you wave your fingers in an obnoxious manner, smile so sweet you hope it rots every damned tooth in his shitty mouth.

Max's deep, honey-draped chuckle rings in your ear, his voice low in the most pussy-wetting manner. "You know what you speaking Dutch does to me, schatjie."

Batting your eyelashes, you smile. "Oh, ik weet het (Oh, I know)."

A gravely groan resonates from his throat, his bany blues trained down on your glossy lips. "Ik kan niet wachten om je te neuken (I can't wait to fuck you)."

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

✍: I might be writing a part 2, but that one will contain smut soooo if you're not into reading that, don't ! ♡ ... but if you arrreeeeee, hehe, stay tuned 🎀.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 fic #mv1 x you #mv1

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cy-cyborg · 6 months

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How The Owl House did amputee representation right before Eda ever lost her arm - Disability in Media

[ID: A screenshot of Eda from The Owl House, an old woman with pale skin, very large, grey hair and pointed ears in a red dress. Beside the screenshot on a dark pink background is text that reads "Disability in media, How the Owl House got amputee representation right before eda ever lost her arm." /End ID]

Dana Terrace's The Owl House has some of the best disability rep I’ve seen on a Disney channel show in a long time, with Eda, the main character’s mentor, being one of many stand-out examples.

Plenty of people have discussed how Eda’s curse and the loss of her magic can work as an allegory for disability and how refreshing it is to see a story (especially one aimed at a younger audience) who’s focus is not on her “overcoming” it, but learning to accept it as a part of her and go from there. Eda’s story tackles a lot of subjects that are often mishandled in other examples of disability representation, from the subject of parents who refuse to accept, to glass siblings and much, much more, The Owl House handles all these topics beautifully.

But one thing that dawned on me during my most recent re-watch of The Owl House is how well Eda (and later Lilith) worked as amputee representation, long before Eda actually lost her arm.

One of the side effects of Eda and Lilith’s curse is that sometimes their body parts, mainly their limbs, can fall off. It doesn’t hurt them, and Eda is seen removing them intentionally at multiple times in the series, but they can always be reattached.

[ID: an image of Eda holding her sister Lilith's hand. Lilith is a pale woman with long, black hair, wearing grey clothes. She is looking at her other arm suprised, as her hand is missing. Luz, a Latina girl with short brown hair and a purple hoodie is looking on, smiling. /End ID]

While most likely unintentional, the way the show depicts this with Eda in particular is exactly what I wish more people would do with their prosthetic-using amputee characters.

Eda detaches her limbs, especially her legs, when they’re inconvenient or when she’s relaxing.

[ID: an image of Eda laying on the couch in a bathrobe, her hair in a towel. She has taken her legs off, throwing them to the other side of the seat. /End ID]

The fact that this is mostly played for laughs is actually a good thing in my opinion (though obviously, the show’s overall tone is part of that), as it shows the audience who are mostly children and teens, that in a world of weird and downright scary (from the perspective of the characters) things, this isn't one of them. It’s just a thing she and Lilith can do, and it can even be funny.

[ID: An image of Luz and Eda dressed as pirates. Eda is sitting on the ground, her legs detached and off screen somewhere. /End ID]

It does startle Luz and Lilith on a few occasions, but that’s more because they didn’t know the curse could do that, but once they’re introduced to it, it’s never really brought up as a big deal again.

I’d love to see more amputee characters who do this with their prosthetics. So often media is almost afraid to have amputees take their prosthetics off on camera or on the page. For some folks, our prosthetics are like a part of our bodies, but that doesn’t mean we never take them off. Show your leg amputee flop on the couch and throw their legs across the room. Have them go without on occasion, not because they have to, but because they just don’t feel like putting them on.

Likewise, the owl house creators never shy away from showing Eda when her limbs aren’t all attached. A lot of media, and kid’s shows in particular, will avoid having an amputee character’s stump visible if they ever do take their prosthetics off - treating that part of the character’s body the same way they treat gore or nudity. I’ve talked before how this actually does have a real impact on how kids in particular react to amputees - I’ve legitimately had kids I worked with cry when I took my prosthetics off, then immediately calm down when they see there’s nothing "scary" under my socks. As much as I love How To Train Your Dragon, it’s very guilty of this. Hiccup looses his leg at the end of the first movie, and wakes up with his prosthetic already attached. The Netflix series has a few instances where he has his prosthetic off, but the camera almost always avoids showing it until he can cover it up again, or is super zoomed-out so you wouldn’t be able to “see anything”. To their credit, they do get better with this in the last movie (though it's still always covered), but for the majority of the series, they are very reluctant to have any shots where hiccup’s leg is in view without the prosthetic (unless they’re very far away).

[ID: a screenshot of Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon 3, a white man with short brown hair, and one leg missing, wearing armour made of black dragon scales and no prosthetic. He is holding onto toothless's head, a black dragon. /End ID]

Ironically, Eda does (permanently) loose an arm at the end of season 2, but I don’t really have much to say about her as amputee representation on that front, since she’s absent for a lot of Season 3, and when we do see her again, everything is so hectic, the story doesn’t really have any time to focus on her missing limb (which is reasonable). I will say, I do appreciate that they kept the amputation when she's in her owl-beast form in the finale, but there's honestly not much more to say about it. We do see her again in the epilogue after she’s had some time to settle into the amputation, wearing a hook prosthetic, but it’s, once again, too quick to really say anything from a representation standpoint. There's a few little nit-picky things I could bring up, like the fact they seemed to change the type on amputation she had (when she looses it, we see the split was very close to the elbow, but in the epilogue she has most of her forearm again) but those read to me more like animation mistakes or an odd prosthetic/clothing designs rather than a representation issue - and as someone who's worked in animation, given the stress the team was under for the finale, I'm not really worried about it. Like I said, it's more nit-picky than anything.

[ID: A screenshot of Eda, her hair tied back and wearing a red robe and a hook for her right hand. /End ID]

Despite all that though, I still think Eda is still good amputee representation, but mostly because of how they depict her curse’s side effects rather than her actual amputation. She’s honestly one of the only characters that I think you could refer to as “amputee coded” (outside of maybe Teen Titan’s Cyborg), and I genuinely wish more creators would treat their actual amputee characters the same way the Owl House treats Eda in that regard.

761 notes · View notes

morphodae · 5 months

Text

Gregory Violet |Headcanons

Including general, relationship (x reader), and some modern au as a bonus!

These headcanons kind of trickle down into a story/narrative so please bear with it lol (plus: these are to warm up! I have ideas for future oneshots)

cw: none

Read more P4 headcanons here: 🦉x ,🌹 x ,🌱 x

General:

I see Gregory coming from a well-off family. They might not have the highest rank out there (they’re probably a viscount or baron nobility rank), but they have enough to send Gregory to Weston.

Either Gregory is an only child, eldest, or youngest. I have a feeling that he may not be super close with his family; perhaps he comes from a blended family or doesn’t have many siblings.

Naturally, his talents sent him to Weston College— which is unnatural for a lot of noble, rich London boys. Most get in for status and money, Gregory got sent there for his talents. Gregory was born with talents and had great expectations placed on him while he was content to create art and do things on his own.

When he was younger, he was obviously different compared to noble boys and girls around him— or general kids of the era. Being so “different, odd, and weird” was something that bothered him in his younger years, but once he turned 18 he stopped caring about others’ opinions. He’s his own person and he couldn’t care less what others have to say about it.

As such, he’s very obviously not thrilled to go to a crowded, renown, high-end school, but thankfully he was sorted into a House that accentuates his eccentricities with others like him. Still, he tends to keep to himself (as most introverts) save for a few close friends— Redmond, Greenhill, and Bluewer.

He’s “eccentric” by many peers but if he were in modern times, he’s definitely neurodivergent at the least. Definitely not me projecting my own autism /s lol.

One misconception is that people believe him to be antisocial or too “moody” when this is not the case. Gregory has a vibrant inner world and is an excellent observer; which allows me to transition into how a relationship with him might be.

Relationship:

Gregory isn’t one to actively seek anyone out, let alone a significant other. For any sort of relationship to have with this artsy fellow, you’d have to either 1) be someone who stands out with the time period’s standards (like him) or 2) have to be brought into his life suddenly and stay for a while before anything remotely romantic happens.

It’s fun to see him with someone who is either a lot like him or someone who is a bit of an opposite— although mostly in external appearance and I’ll explain why.

I don’t think someone who is a polar opposite to be someone who suits Gregory.

If say, someone preferred cutesy girly things or pastel colors and sunlight, that’d be fine. However, I see a calmer personality with a lot of empathy and respect being something he’d need. Otherwise I don’t think a boisterous loud person to be someone that he’d see himself with romantically.

With that said, courting you is… a feat lol. It takes Cheslock (poor Gregory), and the rest of the P4 to really push him in the direction of you.

When it finally happens and Gregory and you are able to formally meet and court, all five of them practically cheer lol. No one thought he’d be the type to find a s/o and Gregory’s parents were concerned he’d die alone :(

Because of expectations of his nobility, I do expect he’d marry you in some way irregardless of gender. But with you, someone he’s not arranged to and someone he truly loves, he tends to view it as a romantic and passionate expression of his commitment towards you.

A relationship with Gregory is majorly spent in comfortable silence. I’d say quality time is a major thing with him. However, he, like a lot of introverts, still needs ample time to himself— so don’t expect him to be glued at your hip. Plus, for that time period, PDA and general overt displays of affection whether in public or private was generally seen as odd. Gregory, for one, doesn’t care too much for the status quo but he is still figuring out his first relationship with you and how to navigate it while respecting you.

In a modern au, he’d be a bit more clingy in private. I see him as the type to play with your hair, study its shape and color for his sketches but mostly because it feels nice to him. If you are reading or gaming then I see him the type to sit behind you with his chin on your shoulder just enjoying quiet contact. It’s very wholesome. Alternatively, whether you lay with him on his chest or he on yours, he just enjoys quiet moments where he can be close to you.

He’s very reciprocal. By this I mean; you respect him and his hobbies, he respects yours. You show him kindness and care, so does he. He’s actually quite a classically romantic guy and is one to surprise you with flowers, food, and of course, sketches and art! He definitely cares and worries about your well-being and happiness (as seen in manga with his friends too!), so he will have his moments where it seems like he’s mother-henning you if he feels that you aren’t taking care of yourself.

Don’t be surprised that one of his first drawings of you was during his pining phase before the two of you formally spoke or courted lol.

Overall a relationship with Gregory is mostly spent in quiet understanding in silence with a partner who is able to empathically express and respect him mutually. Despite being a bit of an oddball for the time period he lives in, he still is a traditional romantic who loves to look after your well-being and give you gifts 💜

#x reader #gregory violet x reader #black butler gregory violet #gregory violet #anime x reader #black butler x reader #black butler headcanons #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji Gregory violet #kuroshitsuji #anime headcanons #x reader headcanons

526 notes · View notes

ssprayberrythings · 7 months

Text

famous siblings | CL16

charles leclerc x female horan!reader, niall horan x sister!reader

you’re the little sister of 1D member niall horan and when he gets invited to an f1 grand prix, he decides to take his girlfriend amelia and you, his sister where you meet the wonderful and most charming ferrari driver who ends up capturing your heart.

warnings: im pretty sure none worth mentioning

note: there will be a second part to this but still feel free to give feedback and express your thoughts!!!

masterlist | taglist

July 9th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on their story

caption: having a famous big bro has its perks 😎 @niallhoran @lewishamilton

*replies disabled*

niallhoran posted on instagram

y/nhoran_, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, johnlegend, kellyclarkson & others liked

Had a great time at Silverstone this past weekend. Thanks Mercedes for hosting us! 🖤

tagged: mercedesamgf1

view all comments

niallfan: omg not niall being at an f1 race

f1fan: the 1d x f1 girlies are not doing well after this

niallerforlife: give me a moment to freak out brb

fan23: did anyone see y/n’s story? they met lewis

fan12: i love that amelia and y/n both got to go with him

mercedesamgf1: it was a pleasure having you and your loved ones in the paddock 🖤

╰ liked by niallhoran

y/nhoran_ posted on instagram

niallhoran, ameliawoolleyx, mercedesamgf1, niallfan, charles_leclerc, gemmastyles & others liked

Had a great weekend with great people 🫶 (except you Nialler🙄)

tagged: niallhoran, ameliawoolleyx, mercedesamgf1

view all comments

ameliawoolleyx: Love you sis 😘

╰ y/nhoran_: ❤️

fan1: the sisterly love between y/n and amelia i love

niallhoran: I’m the only reason you got to come but okay..🙄

╰ y/nhoran_: Okay but who got a second invite..? Thats what I thought😎

╰ fan23: wait what 👀

horan_niall: the horan siblings back at it again with their iconic bickering

f1fan: anyone else see charles in the likes ?? and he follows all 3 of them ?? but they got invited by mercedes ?? confused

╰ fan22: ooooh ok charles we see you..

July 20th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on their story

caption: another day, another plane selfie 😎

*replies disabled*

July 24th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on instagram

ameliawoolleyx, gemmastyles, niallhoran, kellyclarkson, charles_leclerc & others liked

A weekend in Paris. Proud of what you’re achieving big bro 🫂

tagged: niallhoran

view all comments

niallhoran: Happy you could be here sis!

╰ liked by y/nhoran_

niallerfan: I love these two sm

f1fan21: f1 fans; are we still seeing charles in the likes

╰ f1fan2: yes we still see him..👀

niallfan: favourite siblings next to gemma and harry !!!

gemmastyles: missing you girly 💛

╰ y/nhoran_: not as much as im missing you 🥹

╰ horanfan: their friendship even after all these years

dm between charles and y/n

charles_leclerc: you know whats close to paris?

charles_leclerc: monaco..😏

y/nhoran_: oh really? and why exactly would i go to monaco? 😏

charles_leclerc: i’m sure i could come up with a few reasons, one of them being me

y/nhoran_: ferrari boy are you asking me on a date to monaco?

charles_leclerc: if you’ll say yes, then yes i am.

y/nhoran_: i’m sure i could see what i could do about getting to monaco..

y/nhoran_: wait aren’t you racing?

charles_leclerc: we have one more race and then we great a break 😊

y/nhoran_: okay well how about you text me when you’re back in monaco and we’ll arrange this date 😊

y/nhoran_: heres my number: xxx-xxx-xx11

╰ liked by charles_leclerc

y/nhoran_: oh and good luck at the next race! 🙃

charles_leclerc: thanks 😊

╰ liked by y/nhoran_

July 30th, 2023

charles_leclerc posted on instagram

pierregasly, scurderiaferrari, f1, oscarpiastri, y/nhoran_ & others liked

What a great race, happy to be back on the podium! 🏆

Now its time to recharge and see you in a few weeks. ❤️

tagged: scurderiaferrari

view all comments

f1fan: good job charles !!!!

charlesleclerclover_: SO PROUD

f1fan23: GOOD JOB !!!

scuderiaferrari: ❤️

╰ liked by charles_leclerc

niallfan12: anyone notice y/n now in his likes ???

╰ f1fan21: hmmm..somethings cooking

╰ niallfan15: f1 fans x 1D fandom…look out

August 3rd, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on their story

caption: Travel fit! ✈️❤️

╰ charles_leclerc: Cant wait to see you😊

╰ niallhoran: safe travels ✌🏻

You boarded the plane to Monaco, being sure to text Niall your plane information and to text Charles letting you know you were on the plane. Shortly after the flight attendant instructed everyone to turn off their phones.

Before you turned off yours, you caught Charles’ text back,

Ferrari Boy🏎️ : See you soon☺️

You smiled at it before turning your phone off. You still couldn’t believe you and Charles were actually going on a date. Obviously when you first back at Silverstone, there was light flirting but you just had one of those personalities which you seemed to have in common with the driver.

He asked for your instagram and you happily gave it to him, following him back and then you parted ways. He once and awhile popped up in your likes but you didn’t think anything of it until you found out that he had also followed your brother and Amelia back when he followed you and then when he finally slid in your DMs, you knew this went beyond mindless flirting.

You smiled at the thought of him and possibly something coming from this. With that you placed your headphones on your ears and decided to try and get some sleep before you landed and you’d be immersed into the busy life that was Monaco.

August 4th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on instagram

niallhoran, gemmastyles, madelyncline, charles_leclerc & others liked

🖤❤️

view all comments

gemmastyles: I expect details in my dm’s tomorrow morning, no later

╰ y/nhoran_: Yes ma’am 🫡

╰ gemmastyles: 😘

niallfan22: Y/N YOU LOOK STUNNING (as always!)

niallfan12: anyone wondering why she’s all dressed up??? could it be for a date??

╰ f1fan21: WITH OUR BELOVED FERRARI BOY, POSSIBLY?

╰ niallfan13: y’all are so delulu, i love it

ameliawoolleyx: Gorgeous girl ❤️

╰ liked by y/nhoran_

August 5th, 2023

f1updates_ posted on instagram

f1fan, charlesleclercfan_, f1fan23, niallfan12 & others liked

new blurry photo of charles spotted out in monaco last night with a new girl🧐

who could she be? possibly a new wag or is it too early for that status?

view all comments

f1fan26: how do we know thats charles??

╰ f1updates_: the source that sent it in confirmed that was his car near them

f1fan22: hmmmm…

f1fan21: i think i know who this is…😏

╰ niallfan12: miss y/n horan you were spotted…😏

f1fan16: the f1 fans are delulu, no way thats y/n horan

f1fan4: i want it to be y/n horan cause she’s cool and charles’ type but it probably isn’t her

niallfan18: if it is y/n we should definitely give them their privacy, she’s never had any dating rumours surrounding her before

╰ niallfan17: agreed !!!

╰ f1fan91: and for charles too..they both deserve their privacy

╰ liked by niallfan18

August 5th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted a series of stories on instagram

caption: about last night..😜🥰

caption: out exploring 🌞

caption: im moving here and buying my own yacht 🛥️

*replies on all stories disabled*

August 6th, 2023

charles_leclerc posted on their story

caption: I think she likes my car more than me..

*replies disabled*

August 7th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on instagram

charles_leclerc, niallhoran, gemmastyles, f1fan22, niallfan15 & others liked

I love the art in Monaco..🥹

view all comments

f1fan: SO SHE IS WITH CHARLES

niallfan22: Y/N YOURE GIVING US BREADCRUMBS

charles_leclerc: anything else you love in monaco? ;)

╰ y/nhoran_ : I can name a few other things..

╰ niallfan12: ARE THEY FLIRTING ON INSTAGRAM

f1fan12: ARE WE IN THE SOFT LAUNCH ERA OR HARD LAUNCH ERA? THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

niallfan16: can anyone check in with niall and how he feels about all of this

texts between niall and y/n

niall: so hows monaco? anything i should know?

y/n: monaco’s great

niall: you didn’t answer my other question

y/n: how are you? how are the festivals?

niall: stop avoiding the question

y/n: okay fine what do you want to know

niall: whats going on with you and charles ?

y/n: at the moment? we’re on his boat

niall: i didnt mean right in this moment🙄

niall: i mean overall

y/n: i dont know what we are

y/n: we’re just taking it easy

y/n: he invited me to monza which is a big deal to him and the f1 community in general

niall: you should go

y/n: wait youre supporting that?

niall: yeah, if its a big deal for him and he invited you then you should go

y/n: wow, im just surprised youre being so chill

niall: dont push it

niall: you’re still my little sister but i trust you

niall: tell him if he does anything though..i wont be so chill

y/n: understood overprotective brother niall 🫡

y/n: okay im getting back to my date

niall: have fun

y/n: oh we will..

niall: NOPE NOPE NOPE LALALALALALALA I CANT HEAR YOU

y/n: youre such a child for a grown man..😒

August 8th, 2023

f1updates_ posted on instagram

f1fan12, f1fan23, niallfan12, niallfan16, f1wags & others liked

new photos of charles and a girl that people are believing to be y/n horan, sister to one direction member, niall horan. it seems as if y/n has been in monaco for some time visiting and judging by their socials, they’ve been spending a lot of time with eachother. what does this mean for them? how long has this been going on? so many questions..

view all comments

f1fan12: OH MY

f1fan7: THIS HAS TO BE Y/N

niallfan16: UGH THEYRE ACTUALLY CUTE TOGETHER IF IT IS Y/N

niallfan18: i so badly just want a hard launch post

f1fan27: I NEED A CHARLES AND NIALL INTERACTION

╰ niallfan4: YOU AND ME BOTH

August 8th, 2023

f1wags posted on instagram

f1fan23, f1fan12, f1fan11, niallfan12, niallfan15, niallfan44 & others liked

Possible New WAG Update:

Lately theres been photos taken of Charles Leclerc and Y/N Horan that shows the two are definitely more than just friends. Neither have yet to confirm or deny the dating rumours starting to surface but if they are dating, we thought we’d make a post for Y/N for the fans that don’t know who she is already incase she is our newest WAG.

Y/N Horan, younger sister to One Direction member, Niall Horan. Y/N is 24 years old. She attended the University of Galway for a Bachelor of Arts Undergrad, specifically in Digital Arts and Technology. Since graduating, she sometimes models and will do ads for high end brands. Judging from her social media, she enjoys traveling, attending her brothers concerts and spending time with her close circle of friends which include other 1D member, Harry Styles’ sister, Gemma Styles. From what we gathered she primarily resides in London but does frequently go home to Ireland to visit family.

In regards to her and Charles, we don’t have much, other than the few photos taken of them recently. We're guessing they met when Y/N joined Niall in attending the Silverstone Grand Prix back in July which means the two technically have known each other for about a month. We’re not sure how much of that time have been as friends or more than friends. For now thats all we got but if we find out anymore we’ll be sure to keep the account updated.

*comments have been disabled*

August 9th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on their story

caption: ❤️

*replies have been disabled*

It was time for you to get back to London, you had a photoshoot with Ralph Lauren coming up and Charles was planning on spending time with family before he had to get back to racing.

The last few days had been amazing. You got to see so much and really got to know Charles. You could feel yourself falling for him, he made it so easy but you didn’t want to rush anything so you decided not to bring it up, wanting to enjoy your time together before you left.

Currently the two of you were cuddled up in his bed, he had insisted you stay with him instead of getting a hotel which you ended up really enjoying. He was playing with your hair while you had your head on his chest

“I had a really great time here” you told him lifting your head up and looking at him, as he stopped playing with your hair with your movement

“I’m really glad you came and let me show you around” he smiled, you could see it in his eyes, he was being genuine.

“Next time you’re free you need to let me show you around Ireland to return the favour” you suggested. He had shown you his home, you wanted to show him yours.

“I’d love that. I’ve never been to Ireland before” he told you, his smile never leaving his face

“We should probably go to sleep, so I actually wake up in the morning for my flight” you suggested even though you would’ve rather stayed up and talked with Charles

“I know” he agreed, the sadness lingering in his words, just like you he would’ve preferred to stay up and chat all night.

The two of you, got situated in bed, you enjoyed getting to spoon, you’d switch between who was the big spoon and who was the little, which at first surprised you because you would’ve thought Charles always liked being the bigger spoon but there were times when he just wanted to be held which of course just added to why he made falling for him an easy task.

Tonight you were the little spoon which you both enjoyed. You laid on your side, your back against Charles’ chest while his arm held you against him and his other arm stayed free so he could play with your hair.

You fell asleep before he did and he just laid there watching you sleep peacefully. He hadn’t felt this comfortable around someone in awhile and he didn’t ever want to be apart from you.

He was falling for you and unknowingly to him you were falling just as hard. This brought forth one question and that was; who was going to take the first step and be the one to tell the other about their blossoming feelings?

taglist: @namgification @itsyagirlmeee

TO BE CONTINUED !!!

im so happy with how this turned out! please feel free to leave comments and thoughts! if you want to be added to my taglist there's a link on my account!! anyways enjoy 😋

#ssprayberrythings x formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smau #x reader #f1 imagine #imagines #niall horan #niall horan smau #ferrari #formula one #formula 1

792 notes · View notes

mistymisfit · 1 month

Note

first off, I absolutely adore your writing!! It’s got me kicking my feet and giggling.

Can I please request a domestic Dick x reader where they’re having an at home date night (like watching a movie, doing face masks, cooking together - any of those kinda things) and it keeps getting interrupted by Dicks siblings?

thank youuuuu <3 and sorry this took too long (and if the ending feels rushed), hope you like it

warnings: no plot just fluff and batfamily cameos, established relationship, a few dirty jokes, suggestive content, Tim getting traumatized.

wc: 2,2k

You smile to yourself, finally you get to have a normal night with you boyfriend. He's staying at home, having a date night at home, ah the wonders of a dislocated shoulder. His injury would only put him out of action for a couple of weeks since it wasn't that bad, but you would still try to enjoy the time you get with him--even if hes puffing and huffing in annoyance. He's been a vigilante since he was 12 and he doesn't know anything else, so he's especially reluctant to accept the time off. Lucky for him, he's quickly convinced when you tell him how much he deserves a break and that you'll take care of him until he feels better.

"Here, just make sure it doesn't burn" You signal, putting the spoon on his good hand and letting him take care of the sauce.

"Sure" His eyes follow you as you move around his --not so big-- apartment kitchen. You wore one of his t-shirts, why he owned merch of himself was beside you but you couldn't ignore the smile that appeared on his face every time you wore it."So what are the plans for tonight?"

"We're having dinner, then we'll do some face masks," you list off "we could bake brownies if you're up for dessert, and there's this new movie I want to watch"

"Of course I'm up for dessert" He jokes, catching your arm when you step closer to him.

He has a devilish grin when he kisses you, forgetting he was supposed to be cooking dinner with you. You let him distract you, but not before your hand quietly lowers the stove to minimum heat behind him. The spoon falls, left behind as he walks you until you're trapped between the kitchen counter and him. The hand that's not caught in the arm sling cups your face, getting more demanding with the kiss. You sit on the kitchen counter before he asks and he nods, grateful. You're not sure he could lift you up with one arm, even if he's proven the past few days he didn't need both of them to manhandle you as he usually does. The perks of training your entire life.

There's a noise outside the window right when you wrap your legs around him. At first, you both ignore it, but as it repeats again and again, you realize it was not a random noise but someone knocking. There's not that many people who would be able to knock on an eighth story window.

"I'll go," He sighs, reluctantly letting go of you.

You nod, picking up the spoon and washing it on the sink as you try to listen to the hushed conversation. You can tell it was one of his siblings, even if you could only hear half of what they say. So when you finally take a look, hiding behind a wall, you are not surprised to see Damian in his Robin suit in the living room.

"Hi Damian, isn't it a bit too early to be Robin?" You wave

"Richard, you did not tell me that your beloved was here" He recriminates; you think it's adorable to see such a cute thing talking like an old man. He greets you, calling you by your last name as he usually does. Then his nose scrunches up,as if sniffing the air like a cat "are you making...?"

His question is not even finished as he walks past his older brother, who rolls his eyes saying"Yes, it's their gnocchi recipe, yes, you may stay for dinner"

You pout, silently telling him he's cute so he should be more forgiving towards his younger brother. He loves that you like his sibling, the one he raised for a while, but he also hates that all the little demon has to do is make a puppy face and you'd agree to anything.

Later in the evening, you found yourselves hyper focused on a backgammon game. You were both sitting on carpet in the living room, the game set on the coffee table. It was a hilarious sight for you, him competitive as always with his hair pushed back by one of your headbands and brows so furrowed you could see them under his blue face mask. Which he only agreed to do once you sat on his lap and offered to put it on for him; suddenly, all his complaints about "I'll break out" or "I don't like the way it feels on me" silenced. You know he secretly loves doing skincare with you, he just likes what you do to convince him more.

"Stop staring, you're trying to distract me"

"Am not!" You gently shoved his healthy arm, pretending to be offended at the accusation.

"Yes, you are" He childishly sticks his tongue out before moving his piece. You huff, taking the dice and rolling them in your hand but not letting go of them yet.

He moves closer to you, his breath fanning over your neck before you ask; "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't cheat"

"And how would I do that?" You turn your head lightly to look at him.

"That's why I'm looking at you" He shrugs

"Sure," You smile, amused,"and you're not projecting onto me, Richard"

He puts his hand over his chest, as if holding his heart, and pretends to be deeply disturbed by your words. Even going as far as falling on the carpet behind you. Done with his distracting antics, you finally roll the dice. Your lips tug in a big smile when you see the numbers.

"I got two sixes," you announce, and he quickly gets up.

"No way,"

"Yes way" This was your turn of sticking your tongue out to him.

He can't believe how much you're kicking his ass when he was the one who taught you how to play. He wants so badly to kiss that smug grin off your face, and he is about to turn your focus from moving the pieces when someone else surprises you both.

"How old are you two?" Steph jokes, closing the window she came in through

"Hi Steph," you smile "I'm winning"

She steps closer to high-five you as he shakes his head no, disapproving your celebration before adding; "Only 'cause you're cheating" as he gets up.

"Can I have your files on the Riddler, pretty please?" Steph asks, getting to the point of her visit.

He warns you not to touch anything before he gets up to find his secured laptop on his safe. He's going to be out of action for a while, so it's not like he could after him, might as well give them to someone else. When he returns a few minutes later with a flash drive full of the information she needs, he finds you both gossiping on his couch way too comfortably. You gasp as she tells you something, Steph clearly agreeing with your reaction. He waits, he doesn't want to interrupt just yet. His heart feels so full when he sees you get along so well with his family that he wants to save the moment for a little more.

"You got those files?" She asks when she finally notices him standing on the doorway outside the bedroom.

"Yeah," He throws the flash drive and she catches with impeccable reflexes"you're welcome"

"Thanks," She smiles before heading back out the window and telling you;"Kick his ass in that game"

You smile and promise you will, and he looks down to realize just how really over it was for him. So when you're distracted waving at Steph, he kicks the table to move the set. You turn back to see him, and before you can even get mad, he tells you he wants to cuddle up and watch a movie.

You let his little plan work, but not without calling him a sore loser. He pats the space next to him on the couch with a proud grin as he turns the TV on. You roll your eyes, settling down next to his good side so he can wrap an arm around you the way he likes. He may be a sore loser, but you're the one letting him get away with it. Halfway through the movie, you pause to take off the face-masks and catch him staring a little too much in the mirror.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You raise an eyebrow, not believing in his reply"I don't have eye bags and I'm not used to it"

"Duh, you've been sleeping at night like a normal person recently"

"I'll give you a reason to stay up all night" He bites back, his hand skillfully landing on your hips to make sure you stay in place as he takes a step to stand behind you.

"Come on, I wanna see how it ends" You're fast to move out of his hold, God knows how easily you fall for his charm every time.

You cuddle back on the couch hitting play on the horror movie you watched again, the lights were off to help the mood. He liked when you flinched as held him tighter even if the movie was scaring him more than you. You relax with your head on his shoulder, both arms wrapped around his as his sat on your thigh.

"See? Your skin is so soft" You smile, a hand reaching to caress his cheek.

"You're the one who wanted to watch the movie," He puffs "now I wanna know if they exorcise the demon"

You roll your eyes, shifting back your attention to the screen. The movie was building up to a jump scare, the tense music and ambient, something scary was bound to pop up in seconds. What neither of you expected was that the scare was going to come from outside the movie. Cass stepped in front of the TV to get your attention, and you both screamed. Dick could swear the stitches in her mask moved up in a smile as you both held tightly into each other.

"Steph came by and left like an hour ago," He says, once he regains his composure. He's aware now of how down his guard was, it was not normal for him to be startled this easily.

She hums and nods, leaving as fast as she appeared. Giving you both a wave before jumping off your window. Now you're too freaked to go back to the movie. Suddenly, watching horror movies in the dark didn't seem like a good idea anymore, especially when he had a plethora of younger siblings willing to break in at any given moment. His hand rubs your back gently, and you giggle once the adrenaline worn down over how silly it was. He laughs with you, telling you that he's never going to live it down and how they're going to make fun as soon as he sees them again. You smile before pressing a kiss to his lips, he looked too handsome when he laughed.

"I don't want to watch the movie anymore"

"Okay, I can lock the window," he offers, grinning when you nod.

Some time later, you were still on the couch, though now your clothes were scattered around the living room. A sitcom plays instead as you rest on top of him with your head on his chest, the blanket covering until your waist while he has his arms on top of you, his hand tracing circles on your bare back. He was still all smiles and loopy from you riding him, maybe being injured had a good side. Maybe Gotham could afford not having Nightwing every once in a while.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You,"He replies, flustering you and making you hide your face in his chest. "maybe I could stay in with you"

You lift your head to look at him, eyes shining with joy before he says; "Once a month" You pout in response, even if it's better than nothing.

"Maybe I convince you to once a week" You flirt, your lips finding the spot in his neck he likes having kissed way too much.

"Once every two weeks," He smirks, his hand going from your back to your hips again.

"Dick!" A younger voice yells from a different room in the apartment, "Why did you give Steph your files?! I called dibs on them when you got inj-"

He's quick to react, pulling the blanket higher to cover you. He is almost as fast to scold his younger brother; asking how did he come in as the other profusely apologizes, covering his eyes and turning his back. Your face heats up, you have never been more embarrassed in your entire life. you hide under the blanket as he reaches for his underwear, which luckily was close enough that he didn't have to get up to get it. If any humor was left in you, you'd laugh at him showing Tim the way out as he teaches him a lesson on basic boundaries and the consequences of breaking into someone's place. You would've laughed at Tim's comment of needing therapy to delete the image from his head if it happened to anyone else.

"I'm never showing my face to your family again" You say once he comes back and he laughs, clearly taking this way better than you.

#w: dick #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader fluff #nightwing x reader

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ghoststyles · 6 months

Text

Casanova

HIIIII 🤍 Here is a little piece I've been working on for a while! This is inspired by the song Casanova by Rayland Baxter. Harry is a manipulative little twat in this, so bare with me 🤍

7.5K words;

TW: SLIGHT mommy kink. He doesn't call her mommy but he calls her mama and Miss/Missy. P in V sex, oral sex, phone sex. FACETIME SEX <3 Slight mentions of suicide. EXTREME drug and alcohol abuse. Arrests, jail. the works.

ENJOY AND GIVE ME A BOOP IF YOU LIKE IT :D

______________________________________________________________

Money, all I ever want is money But I never wanna work for the money So I borrow the money from a woman

Harry Styles knew who he was from a young age. A charmer. A flirt. He uses his wits and his good looks to manipulate the people around him until they have no choice but to give in, conning them and infiltrating their lives for his own gain.

His days are simple; He sleeps until 11, combs his hair into a perfect swirl of chocolate curls, brushes his perfectly white and straight teeth, spritzes his neck with his ridiculously priced Tom Ford cologne, climbs into his Porsche Cayenne to hit the gym, and grab an $18 smoothie for the ride home. From there, he lets the day unfold how it pleases, until it’s time to go to the club with his friends. Here and there, he’ll meet up with his dealer and his bookie to spice it up.

Rinse. Reuse. Repeat.

As a child, Harry was dirt poor. He’d never let anyone know that, however. His perfectly curated image blossomed the minute he got to college, leaving any ounce of mediocrity behind. His friends were none the wiser, assuming Harry was there blowing his trust fund like the rest of them, when really, he was a charity case.

Every day, he’d walk to the corner store for cigarettes for his dad and cans of tuna fish, stealing a small item to try and feel something. The owner, Mr. Abbott, knew Harry stole from him, but never said a word. He’d return to their one bedroom apartment, flicking the light on, only to find the electric bill hadn’t been paid.

His parents are not addicts or criminals, by any means. If they were, he’d at least have a touching back story. Neither of them have the drive or the desire to succeed like he does. They lived their simple lives, worked paycheck to paycheck to support him and his siblings and never worked for more.

On the day he left for college, he vowed to himself to never let anyone see him as the poor, pathetic boy he was. He’ll put his own silver spoon in his mouth, if he must.

So, as he sits high and mighty on his throne after doing a few lines off a pretty girl’s tits in the VIP section of his favorite club, The Viper, surrounded by his fellow socialite friends, he thinks of one person.

You.

Harry isn’t unemployed, per se, but, he doesn’t exactly have a job, either. Two years ago, at the ripe age of 21, he graduated magna cum laude from university, with top marks in all of his classes. But, he knew he didn’t want to work a traditional job. He wanted to travel, he wanted to live lavishly, and he wanted to party.

That’s where you come in. The gorgeous, alluring and kind-hearted woman that feeds the beast that is his lifestyle. He wouldn’t change it for the fucking world.

Swiping aimlessly one day on the dating apps, he stopped his scroll abruptly to study your profile. You’re perfectly curated - the collection of photos reflecting your outgoing personality and beauty.

38. Looking for some fun. Dog mom. CEO. Let me spoil you <3

Seeking a male ages 21-28.

His eyebrow quirks. A sugar mommy? Is that a thing?

He swipes right, hoping deep down you match. This could be it. This could be his way in. The funds from his financial aid are quickly dwindling, and he’d be sooner caught dead than with a part-time job.

He dawdles around his apartment for a few hours, pacing the room to see if you matched with him. The possibility of this arrangement is scratching an itch he’s been desperate to quell.

He readies himself to meet his friends at the club, placing cologne on his neck and wrists. For good measure, he adjusts himself in his trousers to get a little blood flowing down there.

As he plucks his keys from the door, he hears the familiar ping from the dating site ring out from his laptop. Stopping in his tracks, he pivots to stand at his desk. He swallows thickly before entering his passcode.

Congratulations, Casanova94, you matched with BabyHoneyxo

A dazed smile makes its way to his lips, his dimple popping significantly. This is going to be good.

Can you believe I never met her? Can you believe she never met me, too? But she calls me everyday, telling me to behave And no I never listened

Now, almost two years later, you and Harry have still never met in person. But, that’s by your request. You want a companion. A call boy. Someone who will always answer the phone when you need it. And ever since you inherited your family’s wealth and company, you want someone to spoil.

It started off slow; texts asking about one another’s day, learning about hobbies and interests. Then, the wire deposits came in. Harry wasn’t sure if he had hearts in his eyes or dollar signs. You don’t tell him how to spend the money, but you definitely drop hints.

“Get yourself a new outfit, baby. Then send me a picture,” you smiled lazily on FaceTime one night. “Maybe you can find something to match the Porsche.”

Harry chuckles boyishly, “You’re too good to me. I just went shopping last week!”

He has you eating out of the palm of his hand.

“I know, I know. I just want my baby boy to be happy. Can you pull yourself out for me, baby? Wanna see you,” you purr, making yourself comfortable on your king sized bed in your quiet penthouse. You’re winding down for bed, even though your lover is just getting ready for the night.

“Mhm,” Harry responds, voice an octave higher and desperate sounding. He slides himself out, letting his cock harden slowly in his hands. “My friends will be here soon, Missy.”

“That’s okay, bubba. We’ll be quick. Mmm, look how big and gorgeous you are,” your sultry tone sends shivers up his spine. He adjusts the camera so you’re looking at his abdomen from below his thick cock.

“My perfect boy,” you moan out as you touch your clit for the first time this evening. “Always so good for me.”

“Yes, Missy. Wanna be good for you. Can I touch myself harder now?”

“Yeah, baby, go ahead. Squeeze that big cock. Tell me when you’re close.”

At this point, you’re furiously rubbing your clit, and gently teasing a finger inside. His breaths are becoming more labored as he pumps his cock at a faster pace. You pause just before your climax, sending your heart rate to a thunderous pace you can hear the ringing in your ears.

You look over at your phone propped up next to you to find your little love sweating and fisting himself hurriedly. The whimpers coming from the other end make the hairs on your arms stand up. After a beat, you continue the assault on your clit, starting off slow in order to reach that peak again.

“I-I’m close, Missy. Please let me cum. I f-feel so good,” at the tail end of his begging, he moans deeply.

“Uh-uh. Who always cums first, baby?”

“You, Mama. You cum first,” he pants, his eyes making panicked contact with yours.

“That’s right. Good boy. I’m so close baby,” you squeak out as you stick two fingers in your cunt. You cry out, at your release, gently tweaking your nipple with your other hand.

Harry isn’t far behind, taking one last swipe over his tip, using his other hand to cup his balls. He cums all over his fist, small specks of white littering his belly. He whimpers again, barely able to open his eyes.

“Let me see, baby,” you whisper, waiting for him to show you his load. He pans the camera silently, the haze already leaving his head. But he’d never tell you that.

“Thank you, Missy. I feel so good.”

“Mmm, bet you do, baby. Now go clean up and have fun with your friends. I’ll talk you tomorrow. Behave!”

“Okay, I will. Goodnight.”

The minute Harry presses ‘end’, an ounce of remorse bubbles in his chest. Just an ounce. He rises from his bed to jump in the shower, ridding him of his guilt and shame.

Sure, you’re gorgeous, and nice. But you’re not what’s getting him off. Or so he likes to tell himself. Throughout your sessions on FaceTime, Harry’s mind wanders to the girls he’s hooked up with the weekend before, and the countless drugs he’ll consume on a night out. That’s what gets his rocks off.

You’re the means to his ends. The gateway to his wildest dreams. He’s going to hold onto you for as long as he can, even if he has to get off over the phone a few nights, or pretend to care about the philanthropy you’re supporting that week.

Harry should be your only philanthropy, he thinks to himself. This is the easiest job he’s ever done. And it only makes it better that he can do whatever he wants, with no consequences.

As he gets out of the shower, his prick still swinging in the air, he picks up his phone to see a Venmo payment from you.

Y/N L/N paid Harry Styles - $2,000.00 - 😘

Without even hesitating, Harry, heart rate rising a bit, opens up a text field - to his club promoter. He ignores the dozens of texts from family members over the last few weeks. He’ll make his yearly obligation call to his mother at some point.

Hey, Mike! Can we upgrade to V.I.P tonight? I can put $2K down now.

He’ll thank you later. Tonight, he’s the hero of his friend group. A slight nervousness prickles on his neck. Harry isn’t naive - he knows he should be smarter with his money - your money. But you haven’t given him any reason to believe the well will run dry any time soon.

So far, despite your generosity, Harry still lives paycheck to paycheck. He blows his money on extravagant trips, nights out at the club, and plenty of booze and coke. It’s times he hopes to look back on one day and smile. He swears to you he’s saving the money and working towards investing and buying a house.

Scout’s honor.

I got a real bad feeling, I'ma let her down Got a hole in my pocket and I'm running around Spending all of her money on drugs and things To keep my mind from runnin' Back to the hole that I came from

Every night that he steps out of his apartment, he shakes the nagging feeling in his gut, the embodiment of the life he left behind. He calls his Uber Black to take him to the Viper, his little white baggy in the breast pocket of his Burberry overcoat.

He nods to the driver when he opens his door and proceeds to pour a small line of the substance onto the screen of his phone, but not without seeing another text from you.

Mrs. Robinson 🤍: Enjoy the night, sweet boy! Be safe xo

Harry smiles to himself at your contact in his phone. You all but had a fit when you found out he’d never seen The Graduate. Once he saw it, his world changed.

Swiping away your message, he plugs up his nostril, inhaling sharply as he moves his face over the surface of the screen. He grunts lightly, throwing his head back and shaking it out. That should hold him over until they’re in their secluded area of the club.

The car pulls up to the club around 11:45, the house music already bumping. The line looks brutal. He scans it to see if he spots any 10s waiting that can keep him company later. Miles, Marquise and Jade are already inside at their table.

The bouncers greet Harry, bumping his fist and patting him on the back. He can feel the eyes of the nobodies in line glaring at him enviously. When you spend the average person’s salary in one night at the club, you eagerly reap the benefits.

As he’s escorted through the crowd by the five-foot-nothing hostess, his senses are on high alert. He can hear his heart beating over the music and can feel the bass shaking the floors. He smiles tightly at the girl as she leads him to his table and scurries back into the crowd.

Marquise and Miles, his best friends from undergrad stand to greet him, as Jade greets him from the lap of her catch of the day, a burly, bearded dude already glowing from sweat and the 8-ball they’re about to dig into.

Taking his first swig of the Don Julio his regular bottle service girl, Tasia, pours into his mouth, he cracks a wicked smile, convincing himself there’s no where else he’d rather be.

Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

“So,” you start quietly on your daily FaceTime coffee date. You’re perched in your home library’s windowsill. “I was thinking of flying you in for my 40th. It’s going to be pretty chill. I’ll probably hire a chef and have a dinner at my place. Maybe 15-20 people.”

Harry is cocooned in a blanket on his bed, his iced coffee you had DoorDashed to his apartment slowly melting on his bedside table. His eyes had slowly drifted shut as he listened to you talk about everything and nothing. That’s how these things went — you talk and he listens. You’re after his companionship, after all.

At your words, his eyes shoot open, causing him to try and sit up gently so he can hear you better, not believing what you’re saying. Inhaling, he hesitates before he starts to reply.

“Uh, um,” he bites his lip and looks at himself in the corner of the screen, trying to gauge if he looks as shocked as he sounds. “W-when are you thinking? I have a couple trips coming up and plans with my friends.”

He decides to play it cool. You have to know this is a huge development in this arrangement, right?

“Well, my birthday is the 27th, obviously.”

He scoffs, “I knew that part, Miss. When is the party?”

“Watch the ‘tude, baby. I was hoping for that Saturday, maybe. But I’d be willing to work around what you have coming up.”

He’s lying through his teeth. He doesn’t have major travel plans until the summer, when his friend group will jet off to Greece. He’s been saving up your pennies to charter a private plane.

“Don’t agree to it now, but please think about it. I love spending time with you and I’d love to finally meet you. We can tell my family that you’re part of one of my philanthropy groups. I’m your largest donor, after all,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“Okay, let me get myself together for the day, and I can see what’s going on,” Harry grits out, trying not to let you down.

“Okay, baby. Have a good day. Let me know if you get up to anything fun,” you say with a mild hurt in your tone. The least he can do is make an effort to finally meet you.

“Will do. Bye, Miss,” He says quietly, swiftly hanging up the call and chucking the phone towards his pillows.

“Fuck!”

Hm, Casanova You know that I'm a casanova Throw my pennies in the well Waking up in jail 'Cause I never paid attention Do you remember all the good times? Do you remember all the bad times too? She reminds me everyday, telling me to behave And no I never listened

You didn’t let him off the hook that easily. Every day that passes as your birthday party looms, you mention flights, or activities you can do once he arrives. Harry laughs them off, distracting you by touching himself or telling a story from his gatherings with friends.

It’s not until you’re barking orders at him over the phone, 1 week before your party, denying his orgasm that he finally relents.

“Miss, please, I-I need to cum,” he whimpers as he has a ghostly touch over his angry, red cock. “P-please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything, hm? I want my pretty baby at my birthday party. Wanna show you off and whisper filthy things in your ear and feel that pretty cock under the table. Agree to fly out to me and I’ll let you cum, baby.”

“Miss,” he croaks out, his stomach in shambles trying to stop himself from coming for the third time. “Okay, okay, Mama, I’ll go. I-I’ll come for your birthday! Please let me cum.”

You all but squeal in delight, instructing him to finally let go. Talking him through it, he keens from your praises for following the rules. A nervous heat travels up his neck, realizing what he agreed to in his post-nut clarity.

“Good boy. Take a picture before you clean up, okay? I’ll talk to you in the morning and I’ll have my assistant send over your travel information.”

He nods, unable to make eye contact. You’re oblivious and overjoyed, thinking he’s just too fucked out to look at you.

“G’night, Missy,” he chokes out.

“Goodnight, sweet boy,” you hum before hanging up.

Harry snaps a photo of his messy left fist and cum-covered stomach before cleaning himself up and returning to bed. He eagerly picks up his phone to check his dating apps for his matches. He’d been talking to a new girl, Madelyn, for the past week, so excitement bubbles in his stomach.

She’s meeting him and his regular group at the Viper tonight, so he’s excited to show off to her. Maybe she’ll even be down for a romp in the back seat of his Porsche.

His phone pings, signaling another deposit from you.

Y/N L/N paid Harry Styles - $5,000 - Can’t wait to see you 😘

He smiles, his right thumb picking at the skin of his ring finger. The guilt he feels from abusing your kindness starts to eat at him. But he didn’t get this far by being nice to people. You can’t possibly have feelings for him, right? You haven’t even met, for god’s sake. He shivers, shaking the feeling so he can focus on the night ahead.

Pushing you far, far in the back of his mind.

It’s now the night before your 40th birthday party, and you’re buzzing with excitement. Your penthouse is decorated in pink and floral frill - almost like your Great Aunt Gertrude exploded - but it’s chic and will be a hit amongst your New York City socialite friends. Your party planner floats around the room, puttering with the florals, candles and gem stones scattered around.

You anxiously check the time, counting down the hours until Harry boards his flight from LA. He’s jumping on a red eye, so you’ll greet him with coffee and donuts when he lands. A pang of nervousness hits you as you remember how distant he was this week, saying he was busy with friends or doing god knows what an unemployed 23 year old does in Los Angeles.

Monday, 3:31 PM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Sorry, missy. I’ve been at Miles’ art showing all day.

Wednesday, 11:27 AM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Sorry! At the gym with Do Not Disturb on. Hey, can you send me some cash? Last min car maintenance 😢

Friday, 5:58 PM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Hi missy. My friends want to go to the opening of the new Carbone out here. Think your friends can get us a table? It’ll be 9 of us.

Hope your dad’s chemo appointment went okay.

You can’t be mad at the little monster you’ve let him become. You are always an after thought as his only priority is making sure the cash cow is alive and well. He extends effort just enough to make the butterflies in your stomach reappear when he does give you the attention you crave.

Inhaling deeply, you ascend up the grand staircase in your Upper East Side brownstone and begin your pampering routine, sending photos to Harry of the hydrating eye patches on and curlers in your hair, blowing kisses and sticking out your tongue.

Typically, Harry answers relatively quickly to your silly messages, but, tonight, he’s gone radio silent. Maybe he’s trying to conserve his phone battery for the flight?

You open your medicine cabinet to examine your fast-acting anti-anxiety pills, hoping you can will away this uneasy feeling. Padding over to your bed, you pop your pills before tucking into your silk sheets. Before putting your phone on the charger, you send Harry one last message.

Mrs. Robinson 🤍: Safe flight, baby ♥️ I’ll be tracking you, but tell me which terminal when you land. Can’t wait to see you 😚

Flicking out the light, you close your eyes with the hopes of finally meeting your lover in just twelve hours.

I got a real bad feeling I'ma lose my cool Everywhere that I go, everything that I do Stop me using the money on drugs and things To keep my mind from runnin'

Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

Ping!

Harry, Delta airlines can’t wait to welcome you aboard Flight 0723 to JFK, departing 18:35

Ping!

You may now board Flight 0723 to JFK, departing 18:35. Welcome aboard, Harry.

Harry’s leg is bouncing uncontrollably as he watches the busy bodies move around him. Despite his social butterfly nature, his social anxiety rears its ugly head every once in a while. Or, it could be tonight’s concoction of pills.

He places his phone on Do Not Disturb, just as he gets a text from you. Closing his eyes in defeat, he comes face to face with the awful, shameful and downright despicable choice he’s made.

He’s not going to New York.

Instead, he’s standing booth side at a club next to John Summit, his favorite DJ, as he passes around a bottle of 1942. The pills he’s on are plastering a wide smile on his face as the throng of bodies around him jump around, despite the absolute panic and guilt he feels in his veins.

He’s wondering when you’ll realize he’s not coming. The lack of texts? The empty escalator to the pick-up area well after the flight has landed? He can picture your cherub cheeks reddening with embarrassment, fighting back hot tears.

To distract himself, he leans down to capture the blonde girl to his left in a kiss, despite not even making eye contact with her prior. When she peers up at him, her pupils are just as dilated as his as they sway back and forth.

He kisses her once more, just as Marquise offers him another baggie.

The panic sets in about 30 minutes after his flight landed. Surely that’s enough time to grab his bag and meet you here, right?

Your eyes urgently scan over every person that walks by probably sending them into fight or flight as a deranged woman looks them over in search for her boy.

You look down at your phone, the background a photo of your dog, completely clear of any notifications. With vigor, you throw out the box of donuts and his iced black Americano. Swallowing your pride, you skulk back to the parking lot to cry in the safety of your car.

You feel like a loser. A pathetic middle-aged woman who got fooled by a man half her age. The mental gymnastics that takes place as you drive home with white knuckles on the steering wheel should have you committed.

Your dating life wasn’t easy. It started in high school, where you were invisible to the boys, always deemed not good enough to date. Extending through college, you were still nearly invisible, working over time to find just one guy to have any interest in you and take your virginity. Just to get it over with.

As the dating scene expanded in your 20s, you still struck out with men your age. It wasn’t until your late 30s when your hopes and dreams of a family came crashing down on you that you’d made that godforsaken dating profile.

You still remember how your heart skipped a beat when you saw Harry’s photo for the first time. His boyish charm was palpable, followed by his incredibly witty prompt answers. He was your solution. If you couldn’t earn someone’s love, you could at least buy it.

The lump in your throat is preventing you from calling him and leaving the fiery voicemail you so want to do. You assume he’ll ignore any calls from you anyway.

Pulling into your private garage, you let out your frustrations by wailing and smacking the steering wheel of your Bentley. To prying eyes, the cops should be called. You allow yourself to flip for 5 minutes before putting on a brave face and going inside to begin getting ready for your birthday party, ringing in another year of heartbreak and disappointment.

3 glasses of a 1982 Cabernet Sauvignon. That’s how much alcohol it took to have you crying in front of your friends and family.

You couldn’t tell them what was really wrong, of course. They have no idea about your and Harry’s arrangement. They’d call you an idiot if they knew how much money you’ve sent him.

Everyone is shooting you sympathetic looks as you cry on your best friend’s shoulder. For all they know, you’re stressed with work and your dad’s cancer diagnosis. It’s a lot of pressure on a single woman.

Rubbing your back, Candice whispers all the affirmations she’s been telling you since college. It’s incredibly annoying to get advice from someone whose life is perfect.

You quietly thank her, clearing your throat of the lump that’s formed. Looking around the room, you make a break for it, grabbing your phone as you lock yourself in the guest bathroom.

Tears blurring your vision, you dial his number for the first time all day. It rings and rings, finally sending you to voicemail, as you’d suspected.

You’re silent for a beat after the beep.

“I-I don’t even have words for how I’m feeling right now. I was so fucking excited to see you…feel you….kiss you. And instead I’m locked in a bathroom at my own birthday party, calling you like a fucking loser,” you start, snot threatening to drip down your face.

“I give, and I give and I give, and yet you still let me look like a fucking idiot in front of my friends and family. You couldn’t do one fucking thing for me? You…You didn’t even have to put any effort. I paid for a car service, paid for a first-class seat, bought you a wardrobe…”

“I just hope whatever the fuck you’re doing right now is worth it. I don’t ask questions about what you do with my money, since I’m the one who started this. B-but I thought you were a decent person. I feel so fucking stupid right now,” you are talking to yourself at this point. You shakily inhale and stare at the ceiling.

“We’re done. I’m done with your bullshit. I’m not gonna let some ungrateful brat take advantage of me anymore. Have a nice life, Harry. Hope you have to move back to bumblefuck and lose all the friends you’ve been lying to this whole time,” you end off the message with pure venom leaking through your words.

You press end, feeling slightly better that you’d used his deepest darkest secret as ammunition. The mirror in front of you shows a shocking picture; running mascara, watery, red eyes, and disheveled hair.

Patting some toilet paper under your eyes, you clean up the best you can before returning back to the party. If you were strong, you’d block his number. But you can’t help but wonder what his response could be.

He deserves it. It’s 4:40 AM and he just mustered the courage to listen to your message. His under eyes feel heavy as he listens to your words, hitting him where it hurts. His hands are shaking as he lowers the phone to his lap, drowning out the sound of your sad, heartbreaking voice.

5 years ago, he was a decent person. Now, he looks in the mirror and sees his slightly gaunt face and tired eyes staring back at him. He even notices a few gray hairs every once in a while.

His lifestyle takes a toll on him — He’s well aware of that. But for now, he has no reason to stop. Harry lightly smacks his head back on the seat of the Uber back to his apartment. Cracking the window, he lets the sounds of the early morning deter him from vomiting.

The car arrives at his apartment — a guest house in Hidden Hills, the only place he can afford with the zip code he desires so badly. He never brings anyone to his place, too paranoid of his secrets getting out. Vision doubling, he struggles to stick his key in the lock. He knees the door has he twists the knob, sending him tumbling flat on his face.

Smacking his head on the tile floor, he recoils, lifting his hand to feel droplets of blood on his nose and bottom lip. The metallic taste is leaking into his mouth, sending him into a spiral. His front door is still wide open, allowing him to see the sun peaking over the hills in the distance.

He crawls over to the threshold, slamming the door shut with his foot. He lays back down on the cool floor, exhausted from his efforts. His breathing evened out, lulling him into a comatose state before succumbing to the darkness.

But before he passes out, all he can picture is your gorgeous, disappointed face.

I'm back in the hole I got nowhere to go La la la la, la, la Spinning around In the cold dark hole deep down in the ground Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from

The thing about rock bottom is that you don’t realize you’ve hit it until you’re clawing your way back to the top.

In the days following your fallout, Harry’s experienced enough misfortunes to last a lifetime. It started off with his credit card declining on a $6 breakfast sandwich, only to come back hungry and sad to his car being repossessed in front of all the Hidden Hills housewives out and about.

The panic rises in his chest, and it’s taking everything in him not to call you and beg for forgiveness. He’s come to realize how fucked up his actions towards you became. He misses the butterflies and longing he felt when you first started your arrangement.

He stomps back inside, miserable and feeling like a loser. If it wasn’t for Marquise’s birthday party later, he’d be sure to go dive in the ocean in hopes of never resurfacing.

His closet is taunting him — full of the clothes you’ve bought him. He can remember every single piece he tried on for you, and the praise you were so quick to give him. He never reciprocated when you’d show him new pieces and showing off your incredible body. But, you hadn’t called him out on it, so he continued on.

The all black outfit he chose reflects his mental state. Filled with dread and remorse, he pulls out his kitchen drawer to peruse the substances he has left. His stash is dwindling as fast as his bank account, so he has to be strategic until he figures out his next move.

Grabbing the baggies, he situates them in the breast pocket of his jacket to conceal everything. They’re going to a new club tonight, so there’s no being saved by the bouncers if shit goes south.

The party goes off without a hitch. Bottles pouring, dancers hanging from the ceiling, and an influx of out of town girls willing to do anyone and anything. Harry has nearly pushed you completely out of his mind, but he does something completely out of character.

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: I’m sorry.

You’re at a wine bar with your girlfriends in the Village, and the message you receive shakes you to your core. You haven’t heard from him in days. Not even after you repossessed the car and canceled his credit card tied to your account. You thought for sure that would smoke him out of his foxhole. But, he’s Harry. He’s selfish and too full of pride to ever come forward and apologize.

Your friends notice the faltered look on your face, but opt to ignore it as they bitch about their husbands and kids. Despite your fleeting dreams of having a family, most of the time you’re thankful you can’t relate to them.

Turning off your phone, you throw it in your new Kelly bag — a little treat to get over the heartbreak — and return to the conversation.

He doesn’t even remember how it went down.

The last clear memory he has is being escorted out of the club to go back to Marquise’s. The combination of coke and alcohol, plus this week’s tumultuous events had him on edge, so when the unfamiliar bouncer at this mediocre club grabbed him wrong, it sent Harry into a frenzy.

To match his bloody nose and busted lip, his knuckles are now decorated with crusty amber smatterings of blood — his own, and the bouncer’s. His jaw and wrist were aching, still mouthing off like a rabid animal as the cop read him his Miranda rights.

So now, he sits in a cold cell in the county jail awaiting his arraignment — a seemingly straight forward assault and battery charge, now amplified by the 40 grams of cocaine and Adderall in his coat pocket. The bastard cop smiled to himself when he patted him down. Harry will give him this one, the rinkydink small town cop who is used to giving out traffic violations.

Tired, in dire need to piss, and on the verge of a mental breakdown, Harry’s head snaps up when the officer notifies him of his bail — a measly $75,000 — and lets him know he has one phone call. Balling his fists, he looks up at the ceiling.

“Fuck!”

The cop assists him in standing up. His wrists are chained together behind his back, after all. Releasing him from the confines, Harry rubs his wrists where the cheap metal chafed him.

“You have 5 minutes to make a call. Do you know the phone number or do you need me to access your cell phone?”

Harry scoffs. Who the fuck still memorizes phone numbers?

“Phone,” he replies, a clear edge in his voice.

“Whose contact am I looking for? Mom, Dad?”

“Fuck’s sake. No, I need the number of,” Harry pauses suddenly as he remembers your name in his phone.

“Mrs. Robinson,” he finishes quietly.

The cop raises his eyebrows, but says nothing, and reads the number aloud to him. It rings, and rings, diminishing any hope that you’ll answer. It’s in this moment Harry is at his rockbottom.

“Hello?”

“This is a collect call from the Department of Corrections for the City of Los Angeles. An individual is trying to contact you. Do you wish to answer?”

You gasp as the automated voice informs you of your worst nightmare.

“Hello?” you say quietly. It’s 8:15 AM, and you’re at the cafe on the corner for a latte and reading, trying not to disturb those around you.

“M-missy?” His voice sounds broken. It sends a stabbing pain straight through your chest.

“Harry, what happened? What did you do?”

“I-I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. N-not just with you. I know I fucked everything u-up,” he’s starting to sob, unable to catch his breath between words.

“B-but I got into a pretty bad fight last night, and I had some,” Harry pauses to look over his shoulder to make sure the officer isn’t listening. He wipes the tears in his eyes with his thumb. “I had some stuff on me, so now I’m in a lot more trouble. A-and I know I fucked everything up and I don’t deserve anything from you, but I don’t have enough money for bail.”

You sigh, not really even sure where to begin. Tears are threatening to spill over as you hear his clearly broken sobs.

“How much do you need?”

At this point, Harry hung his head at your silence. He snaps his head back up when you agree to help him.

“It’s $75,000.”

“Jesus, Harry, what the fuck did you do?”

“I don’t even know, I barely have any memory of—”

“Five minutes, inmate!” the officer interrupts him.

Harry rolls his eyes and continues.

“I’m not sure what happens next. B-but thank you, Y/N. I know I don’t deserve this in the slightest.”

You shiver at his use of your first name. Closing your eyes, “I know you don’t. Just tell me who I need to call.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mutter as you hear your incessant doorbell ring. It’s 6 in the morning, just a few days after you paid Harry’s bail. You’ve been laying low, unsure if you’ll even hear from him again.

Your doorman, Paul, informs you of a visitor. A visitor? At this time? Unable to even comprehend what’s going on, you press the button to confirm opening the door, and wait.

Your bunny slippered feet tap your coffee table anxiously. Is it your mom? Here to inform you of someone’s death? Or is it your best friend from college who couldn’t come to your party? Or is it —

You’re broken from your racing thoughts as a timid knock on the door echoes through the house. You shuffle hesitantly over to the door, unable to even bring yourself to look through the peephole.

Closing your eyes while pulling open the door, the absolute wind is knocked out of you as you eye up your waiting guest.

He’s tall, tanned and gorgeous as his photos. It’s unfair to look like this after stepping off what she assumes was a red eye flight. He looks exhausted. His lip and nose are busted, and he has a yellowing bruise on his left eye.

“W-what?” you flounder in disbelief.

His hands fold together at your reaction, unsure if he should hug you or keep a respectable distance. He opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself. He’ll play by your rules.

“What the fuck is going on?”

You look adorable. The sleep barely wiped from your eyes. Slight bed head and disheveled silk pajamas. Harry is in disbelief that this is the woman he’s come to realize his feelings for.

“I know this is so fucked up,” he trails off. “Coming here. I don’t deserve even a minute of your time, but I needed to come here and tell you how fucking sorry I am. How deep into the superficial bullshit I got. I took advantage of you and your kindness and I lost myself in the process.”

You must look flabbergasted, because he inches closer, placing his hands gently on your arms. His touch is searing, but the first reminder that he’s actually standing in front of you and not an extremely lifelike apparition.

“I-I,” you stumble.

“We don’t even have to talk right now. You can send me away, if you need. But I’m here, I’m here in New York and I want to change. I want to be better for you. These last few days— when I had absolutely nothing — made me realize something.”

His eyes are now earnest and starting to tear up. Your reflection is so clear in his tide pool green irises.

“I had nothing, and it made me realizing you’re my everything.”

His profession had you clutching your metaphorical pearls. Your heart is racing, sending your central nervous system into a tizzy. You know he’s not lying, because he’s looking dead in your eyes waiting for your reply.

“H-Harry, I don’t even know what to say,” you stall. Your body knows what it wants to say.

“I know and like I said, if you need time, I underst—”

“If you’re here and you’re not bullshitting me; you really want to change. Then, you’ll fuck me like it.”

If Harry’s jaw could drop to the basement, it would. Instead of word vomiting, he lunges forward, guiding both of your bodies back to the hallway and placing a panty-dropping kiss on your lips. He doesn’t even have time to admire your beautiful home.

You break the kiss, grabbing his wrist to lead him to your room. The sheets are mussed, your clothes are all over, but you can’t even begin to fucking care. You all but dive back onto your bed, pulling your nightgown up to reveal your bare, perfect pussy.

Harry drops to his knees, wrapping his hands around your thighs. The photos and the FaceTimes don’t do any justice to the sight in front of him. You’re complete and utter perfection.

He waits for your approval before leaning forward to lick from back to front. Your back arches slightly, throwing your ankles over his shoulder. His fingertips dig into your skin deliciously, so you grab onto your blankets for dear life.

“Give it to me, Missy. I’ve been waiting two years for this perfect cunt. What the fuck was I waiting for?”

You laugh, not expecting his sense of humor at this moment. For the last few months, it’s been like talking to a robot. It was an exchange of goods and services. But here, in front of you, is a man. A man who’s willing to change his ways for you. The man you’ve waited all your life for.

“Always here for you. It’s yours,” you purr, placing your hands on top of his.

He growls, vigorously licking into you. He removes his right hand to insert his two middle fingers into your center. This has you howling, unable to even remember the last time a man did this for you.

“Baby, baby. I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum for you, finally,” you whine, focusing on the immeasurable pleasure stemming from your legs.

“Mhm, I can feel you, Mama. Let go for me,” he begs, making direct eye contact with you.

It’s the moment you lock eyes that you’re letting go. All the stars are aligning and symphonies are playing in your head.

“Ah, ah! There, Harry!”

Harry keens at hearing his name roll off your tongue. He slides up your body to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself. You grab at his under shirt, insinuating that you want it off.

He peels it off and cheekily pulls your tit out of your nightie. He winks before connecting his lips to your nipple, rolling his tongue around the bud and sucking gently.

“Please, want you inside me. Gimme my big cock, baby.”

“It’s yours, Mama. All of me.”

Harry slides his briefs down his legs, revealing the main event. His dick swings slightly before hitting him in the stomach. You moan, unable to wait even another minute for him.

“Please,” you cry out, scratching down his chest.

He lines himself up, moaning in ecstasy as he pushes in. Your mouth falls open, a silent whine escaping.

“So big, baby. I should’ve flown out to you the minute you sent me a dick pic. Like a fucking middle schooler.”

Now Harry is laughing. He’s in disbelief that he would ever treat you the way he did. The clarity from the last few days is damning.

His pumps are getting faster and longer, bottoming out every other thrust. He looks down to where you’re connected, your pussy lips wrapped around him deliciously, a slight white substance leaking out of you. He leans down to kiss you, wanting this connection he’s subconsciously wanted since he met you.

“Want you to cum with me, Missy. Cum with me. Want to show you I mean it. I mean everything I said.”

You gently put your hand on his cheek, to which he immediately nuzzles in at the touch.

“I know you mean it, baby. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss you again, his thrusts slowing but still ramming you to the hilt.

“You close?”

“Yes, baby boy. Cum with me, I’m cumming now.”

Harry’s cock twitches as he bumps your walls before releasing long and deep into you. You push your noses together, lips ghosting over one another’s.

Harry is finally home.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for this, little brat.”

He flashes a shit eating grin, kissing you again.

“I expect nothing less.”

And I don't ever Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

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