#i'm very happy with how the first three chapters turned out

[killerandhealerqueen]

First case/three chapters of my Killer and Healer Apothecary Diaries au fic is done! Very exciting! Now all I need to do is focus on working on my Killer and Healer rewrite so that I can get the next chapter out by Halloween

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 05. ANGEL OF SMALL DEATH

a/n: i am apologizing now and a chapter early because this will be the last bit of happiness before the real angst settles in. i'm talking absolute pain. but for now we get to indulge in logan being content and happy with having his honey exactly how he wants. this chapter wasn't supposed to be this long, but i'm feral for this man. so here we are. enjoy the equivalent to a beach episode in a tv show before the real pain begins!

summary: when the world grows silent and time seems to stand still, you and logan find a reprieve in the serenity of your apartment.

OR nasty fucking him all over the small space until he sees god.

word count: 8k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), sloppy toppy to the highest degree, p in v sex, choking, cumplay, spitplay, dirty talk, wade being a peeping tom, just wade, squirting, slightly dom!logan, accidental edging, face fucking, creampie, logan being a freak and his honey matching him entirely.

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He slept. For the first time in near a decade, he slept long after the sun rose in the morning sky. He resided in a vast emptiness of nothing but darkness. No nightmares, no screams, no fear that ate his heart bit by bit until all but a shell remained. Merely the echo of your breaths as you lay sprawled across his chest—naked skin pressed intimately atop his.

The curtains on your bedroom window remained open from the day prior—allowing the sun to stream in. Catching across your face and forcing your eyes to open with a squint of displeasure. You stirred gently, a sigh pressed to the hard chest against your cheek. The one that rose and fell in time with his heart beat.

Surprisingly he didn't snore as often as you expected. The first night he spent in your bed he was rigid. Unsure of where to lay, or how to curve around your body. Now he remained a heavy mass that slumped into your soft mattress, one arm spread to your side of the bed and the other a weight on your back.

Even in sleep Logan was adamant on keeping you right there. Pressed tight enough to feel every shift, every deep and sated breath.

A sore ache built between your thighs as you turned your head to look at him—admiring the way his face was devoid of a frown. After the fifth orgasm (three around his cock and two from his mouth) you had no choice but to shove him away. The promise of more on the tip of your tongue—as long as you got a chance to rest.

Although you were positive if he tried to fuck you right away you'd be screaming. And not from pleasure. The raw pain of your still leaking cunt is what kept you from shuffling up his body to sit on his now hard cock. It stirred against your stomach, pressed deliciously on your warm skin. You could feel it begin to drip, pooling against the trail of hair that led downward.

Moving slowly, you managed to maneuver yourself down his body—checking with each shift to see if he remained asleep. The sight made you smile; knowing he felt safe enough to find some solace in a dreamless night here in your bed. You watched him toss and turn on Wade's couch long enough.

For now he’d get a chance to actually breathe peacefully. His body no longer at the ready for a fight that would never come.

"Pretty," you sighed, eyes trailing down his stomach to the patch of hair nestled at the base of his already hard cock.

A pearlescent drop slipped down the vein, his chest a steady rise and fall even as you carefully peeked your tongue out to lick it up. You froze when his body shifted, a heavy sigh falling past his lips. Waking him up was the last thing you wanted—given the state of unrest he found himself stuck in for two weeks—but the thought of finally getting to taste him kept you going.

The salty tang of him spread along your tongue as you licked at his cock again. This time less afraid of feeling his body shift. He seemed to be on the very precipice of consciousness. But sleep would hold him captive for just a bit longer.

You moaned softly when your lips wrapped around him fully—hand gently holding what you may not be able to fit in your mouth. If last night told you anything, it’s that James Howlett was not a small man. In fact you had proof to uphold that statement. Yet that alone wouldn't deter you from taking him as deep as you could; even if you choked.

The stuttered breath that left his chest made your heart race the further you went. Pulling off quickly, you let your spit drip out of your mouth, coating his length to help you slide down a bit easier. The wet echo of your hand filled the room—his breaths deep and raspy as he started to feel the tendrils of pleasure take hold in his body.

Biting back another whine, you swallowed him down until he hit the back of your throat. Your hand a steady rhythm along what you couldn't fit. He pulsed on your tongue; precum dribbled down the back of your throat. The taste made your head spin—his cum now leaking from your spent cunt. Coating the inside of your thighs with a combination of you and him.

A match made in the entanglement of two universes. Colliding into one another without mercy.

"F-fuck," he groaned, hips shifting forward and choking you on his cock. You spluttered for breath as he caused you to gag—spit leaking down to his pubic hair.

Even through your gasps for air and soft breathy whimpers, he remained asleep. Lost in a dream of you sucking his cock greedily back into your mouth. Eyes overflowing with tears and lungs begging for just a bit more oxygen. He fucked your mouth gently, hips thrusting unconsciously to stay in that wet heat. To feel just a bit more of a white hot ecstasy you helped him chase.

Cupping his balls, you felt your spit coat them in a sticky layer. You wanted them in your mouth. Ached to feel them on your tongue. And with a gasp of the crisp morning air, you shifted—sucking on them with a soft moan of need.

Your hand pumped him rapidly, building his high until there was no denying what was happening. Scraping your teeth along the soft skin of his balls, you felt them draw up tightly. Logan's eyes flew open with a sharp gasp of air, his face tilting to see you between his thighs—your chin and mouth covered in a mix of your spit and his precum.

His mouth opened to speak, to give you a filthy comment you'd no doubt feel down your spine. Only for you to take him down your throat in one swift thrust. Tugging sharply on his pulsing balls to draw him right over the edge.

He came with a raw shout of your name, spilling into your mouth with enough cum to choke you. Until it began to leak out around your spread lips—trailing the sticky mess down your hand. His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe—head pushed back into the pillow and back arched with the force of his release. And you kept going.

You licked up every trace of his spend with an eager tongue and sighed out moans. A hand yanked you up his body, fingers gripping your chin to keep your mouth open as you looked at him with eyes glazed over—your body covered in a sheet of sweat.

"Share," he rasped, tugging you closer.

Smiling, you cupped his chin and guided his open mouth towards yours. Allowing whatever cum remained on your tongue to drip down onto his awaiting taste buds. The shiver that ran down his body caused you to clench around nothing—empty and aching for this to continue.

He moaned, pulling you in for a kiss that had you clambering into his lap. Your tongue sliding against his and fingers delving into his bedhead of hair. The passion from last night still lingered in your veins. A silent plea for his touch to drag down your naked form; for him to consume you entirely. Yet you remained content like this—in his arms, lazily kissing until you had no choice but to come up for air.

"I can make us breakfast," you murmured, running your thumb along his cheek—your breath a warm caress on his face.

A hum purred in his chest, hands cupping your ass and kneading the flesh with a sleepy grin. "That sounds good."

"Got anything in mind?"

His eyes trailed down your throat to the way your breasts were pushed up against his chest. You felt your nipples tighten at the heat from his gaze. The want in his touch that left you craving for more. Vanessa really wasn't kidding when she told you he'd lock you in this apartment. Ravishing you every way he knew how; showing you everything he learned in his two hundred years on Earth.

"I do," he replied, voice low and thick with sleep.

"Yeah?" He nodded, an air of serenity lighting up his eyes. The sight felt new—unlike the Logan from last night—but you could feel the warmth of it slide down your spine. Encasing you in a cocoon of domesticity that thrived in the afternoon sun. "Pancakes?"

"Mm." Lips trailed along your jaw, tracing the line of your neck with gentle bites that were soothed by his hot tongue. "I've got somethin' else in mind honey."

Heat pooled between your legs, slicking your skin with a fresh wave of arousal. You felt his nostrils flare—your scent thick in the air and drawing out a side of him that begged to take a bite out of your plush form. He wanted to eat you alive. It sent a thrill of fear through his body.

You longed to explain that you felt the very same way about him.

A low growl emanated from your stomach, pulling him free from the shackles of lust that clamped on his neck. The flutter of your heart was only furthered by his soft laugh; hazel eyes now a bit clearer as he listened to the cues of your body.

"Actual food then," he said, tapping your ass lightly to shift you when he clambered out of bed. Searching for the jeans that were thrown to the side.

You tried to swallow the flare of disappointment that soured your stomach and Logan could tell. He knew you wanted to stay there tangled beneath the sheets. Your bodies stuck to one another long enough to cause discomfort. Fuck he'd never wanted anything more. He could sense the danger in letting his heart be filled by you—the fear of this going a different way.

Silencing it was near impossible when all he wanted to do was listen to it.

Pressing a kiss to your furrowed brows, he handed you his flannel. Watching in adoration as you struggled with the buttons. Similar to him twenty four hours prior.

Not bothering with his belt, he walked out into your living room—seeing the trail of clothing left in your wake of need. He gathered what he could, tossing your robe to the back of the couch. His boots placed by the foot of the coffee table. While you stumbled behind him on unsteady legs that still shook from last night's activities.

Pride flared hot in his chest at the sight; his cock twitching in interest at your messy state.

"I can make the pancakes," you announced, trying your best to walk to the stove without your knees buckling beneath you.

He laughed, reaching an arm around your waist to tug you back and into his chest. "I know how to make pancakes bub."

"And if I don't believe you?"

His lips pressed to your ear, teeth biting at the lobe. "I used to be a teacher honey. Who do you think kept those kids fed most of the time?"

"The other X-Men," you huffed, though the smile on your face told him you were more than happy to stay in his arms. "Weren't they professors too?"

"Yeah right," he scoffed. "Jean was considered a fuckin' fire hazard and forget Scott. He couldn't even find the kitchen if he wanted to." He walked you both towards the counter, turning you to sit you on it with a messy kiss that had his teeth digging into your lip—pulling at it gently with a groan. "Storm was better. She knew how to handle the little shits when they came up with strange food demands."

You smiled, curling your arms around his waist. "I like hearing you talk about them."

A flicker of grief filtered through the joy, reminding him of what he once had. But as usual, he smothered it with a puff of air—craving the taste of a cigar between his teeth he could bite down on. Something to let his pain sink into other than you.

"It's been awhile."

"Well you should talk about them. They're your family Logan."

His body went stiff, hands pressed flat to the counter, and you let the words sink into his skin. You watched his mind come to life with old memories long past. Good memories. Ones that involved cooking in a kitchen full of students and jokes with the people he loved most. He felt the weight of grief begin to lift off his chest with each moment of laughter, each piece of love he once forgot.

All the horrors he'd endured buried the good under a wave of bleak nothingness.

To have them back brought a light he forgot once belonged.

"They uh..." He cleared his throat, moving to grab a mixing bowl you stored somewhere deep in your cabinets. You weren't one for cooking often; the dinner with Logan being an exception. "I forgot how it feels."

"What?"

"Havin' them back. Even if it's just through this." He smiled—more to himself than anything—and flicked the stove burner on.

A part of you knew that was the end of the conversation for now. After spending decades avoiding his past mistakes—his trauma that might never heal—he finally felt safe enough to open the door. Even if it barely remained cracked enough for you to peek through. This was him taking a step towards keeping true to the promise he uttered against your lips last night.

The intent of staying no longer an echo of words that held no weight behind them.

There existed—between you and him—a sense of fulfillment that sprouted from the seeds of the you he knew before. A version that was capable of handling his grief, because you shared in it. You mourned his family for one sole reason: they were your family too.

If you could give that to him now, you would. Offering him a place of serenity despite the chaos he lingered in was enough. You could see it on his face—the peace he'd been searching for...now in his grasp. He'd be damned to let even a sliver of it go now.

The scent of batter being poured onto a grill filled your apartment, setting the hunger in your body alight with a new vigor. He moved with such fluidity and ease. As if he already memorized the layout of your kitchen from the last time he was here; his hand reaching for things in drawers you forgot were there. You traced your gaze along his bare back, down the curves and sinews of his muscles that rippled beneath his skin.

Skin you clawed at with need; that ripped beneath your nails and healed over seconds later. You longed to place your mark on his body, to see a trail of hickeys lead down into his jeans. But that remained a disappointment you could live with. As long as he let you try over and over again.

"Careful honey." His hand pressed to the counter, back hunching as his nostrils flared. "I gotta feed ya before anything else can happen."

"I'm not-"

He turned, eyes narrowing at the way your thighs pressed together to alleviate the growing ache. "Then spread 'em."

Your breath grew heavy, eyes lidded as lust washed over your body with a demand you couldn't fight again. The sight of you practically panting at the sight of his grin—so sure that he'd find you dripping onto the marble counter—left you clamoring for some semblance of control. Surely you could wait until he'd finished cooking. You needed food more than him.

But the longer he watched you—scrutinizing every part of your trembling form—began to shift that truth to something else entirely.

"C'mon bub. Show me the mess you're makin'." A whine echoed in the small kitchen as he flipped another pancake onto the plate. "Be good and I'll reward you."

Fuck.

Your legs parted, flannel pulled up, as you revealed the slick lips of your cunt that begged for his attention. A groan rumbled in his chest, his eyes greedy in the way he devoured the sight of you so ready for him to slip right in. The spatula nearly bent in his hand—the smoldering scent of a forgotten pancake became an afterthought as he stepped closer.

"Logan the stove," you breathed.

He flicked it off without looking, the small pile of pancakes slid beside you with a fork. "Eat."

"But-"

The pointed look shut you up within seconds, his hands parting your thighs to spread you even further. Until he was standing before you with intent hammering in his heart. Cutting through the pancakes, you moaned at the taste as it hit your tongue. Only for Logan to drop to his knees—his thumbs pulling you open for your slick to pour out right onto the counter.

"What are you—oh-" you gasped, a hand digging into his hair as his mouth sealed over your cunt with a husky moan.

He watched you while his tongue licked over every part of you. Plunging into you as you swallowed down the buttery pancake—your mouth parted with another heady moan of his name. The challenge was clear enough for you to understand without further questioning. You were meant to eat. As he indulged in devouring a breakfast of his own.

The tip of his tongue flicked at your clit, drawing a whine from your throat—the fork nearly slipping out of your hand. Only for him to grasp it and drag it back to the plate. He stopped, keeping his mouth directly over your throbbing center, yet never touching you. The action was enough to drag even a sane person to madness.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, the burn of tears stinging your eyes as you cut another piece and placed it on your tongue.

He continued with a growl. Sucking at you lewdly until all you could hear was the echo of his mouth moving over you wetly. His thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit, tongue thrusting deep enough to drink down every drop of you that poured out.

Having managed to eat two of the smaller pancakes, you felt the tendrils of pleasure begin to rush through your body—pulling and tugging at each nerve with a familiar heat you'd grown to love. He moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he ate you with a drunken hunger. An urgency to feel you pulse around his tongue.

"Logan I'm gonna-" You gasped, fingers yanking on his hair.

The fork clattered to the counter—your hips dragging along his mouth with a cry as you broke for him. Unlike before this felt like a rush of fresh air. An echo of love that lingered in his tongue, in his promise to keep you. Your chest heaved, legs trembling over his shoulders, and the ache of want still stuck to your skin like the humid air of summer.

He didn't quell your hunger.

He merely lit the match for something stronger.

"Good job," he murmured, catching your lips in a kiss that had you wrapping your body around him, arms twining around his neck. "Mm. Think I found somethin' better than fuckin' syrup."

The skin of your cheeks burned hot as he smiled; his tongue licking at your open mouth. Words were lost as you kissed him with an eagerness that threatened to break you. This is what you longed for. The promise of a life overflowing with small bits of joy. Pieces of a future that echoed with what you built together.

Certainly not a perfect Polaroid, but you supposed that's what made the sun spots so endearing. It captured the truth of what still had to be figured out. The pain that you'd one day have to face head on. But as he kissed you slowly, hands grasping gently at your flesh, you felt certain that things would be okay.

Because he would be there, standing beside you with his hand in yours, ready to face it with you.

The midday sun cast shadows along your living room, turning dark spots into shade you now lounged in. Logan sat at your kitchen table with a plate of food you'd made an hour after your kitchen escapades. The quiet of having him there, watching you with a warmth in his eyes that burned lovingly against your skin, left you craving more of this.

"I like you in my shirt," he said, pushing the now empty plate to the side.

You smiled, leaning against the edge of the table as he kissed your bare thigh. "I like you in no shirt."

"Yeah I bet bub," he chuckled.

The heavy press of his palm to your leg kept you still—even as you continued to burn from an hour ago. You didn't rush him into the act, because if anything you had an excess of time. One more day off from work left you with the knowledge that you would have Logan more times than your body could handle.

He was quickly turning into an addiction you held no intention of kicking. How could you? When the sweetness of him spread along your tongue like the finest whiskey known to man. When you were so devoted to a relationship that barely started to bloom. Yet you felt as if you'd known him your entire life. Your heart was waiting for him to appear—claim you without question—and you could do nothing but respond with a desperate yes.

"Still needy for me honey?" he teased, standing to his full height with a soft grunt, his hands spreading along your hips.

You scoffed, pushing at his chest; even if he did resemble a brick wall. "You're imagining things Howlett."

"Oh it's Howlett now huh?" He nipped at your jaw, smiling at your soft bubble of laughter that burrowed its way into the depths of his heart. "Thought you liked callin' me James."

The breath caught in your throat when his tongue slid along your throat, heat pooling in your stomach. "Logan," you sighed, fingers tangling in his hair to draw his face up.

"That's better," he growled, cupping your chin to connect his lips to yours.

The raw needy ache of last night reared its head in your body, screaming out for him as he licked into your mouth with a purr. One you felt reverberate through your chest and down to the very tips of your fingers. He was yours to kiss, yours to love, and without knowing it you managed to tame the lonesome Wolverine that begged for a hint of your affection.

"Can't fuckin' get enough of you," he mumbled against your neck, sucking at the tender skin as his hands kneaded at your ass. "Got me goin' feral honey."

"I don't mean to."

"I know." He pushed his hips into yours, dragging you along his jeans with a stuttered breath. "'M gonna fuck you."

Your eyes met his gaze—a pool of slick now staining the dark denim he leaked into. "Here?"

He nodded, teeth bared in a ravenous smile. "When you eat dinner here without me..." Tugging the flannel open, he sucked at the top of your breast. "You'll remember me bending you over this table."

No words could counter what he just uttered as if he was reading straight from a novel of your life. His hands guided you to turn around—your palms flat on the wood and breath heavy in your chest. The audible echo of his zipper sent a flare of want through your body. Slick now coating the inside of your thighs, dripping down for him to see the slight shine of it in the sunlight.

He grunted palm sliding along your cunt and jolting you with a shuddered breath. Though he'd already eaten—twice—he was intent on indulging in a dessert so sweet he would go to the grave thinking about it. His cock—hard and throbbing—slid along the lips of your cunt. Coating him in your slick with a soft puff of air that blew across the back of your neck.

"Press your cheek down for me honey," he said softly, hand gripping your neck and guiding you until your back had no choice but to curve—ass presented to him with a soft moan. "There we go. Lookin' like a damn goddess."

"Oh fuck-" you sighed, the ache between your legs now a searing burn that could only be put out by him.

"You want my cock?"

You nodded, a stray tear falling to the table. "I do."

He huffed, lips pressing to the shell of your ear. "Begging so sweetly for me. Can't believe you thought I'd leave willingly."

The comment was more for himself than you, but you mewled for him, hips pushing back into his until the head of his cock tapped your clit. Drawing a high pitched cry from your parted lips still shiny with his spit.

"Please," you gasped, nails scratching along the wood. You'd see the marks later and be placed back into this memory with a visceral shove. As he intended

"I know, I know."

Lining himself up, he pushed forward with a broken gasp—his face buried against your shoulder. The stretch was divine. Last night's pain dispersed the second he slid into you with one thrust, your walls clamping down around him tight enough to choke a moan from his throat. The breathy grunted fuck had your head spinning, another gush of slick pouring out of you until it leaked between you.

Yet he held himself there, panting against your back as his cock twitched inside you. Begging him to move. He gave you a moment to catch your breath, to find something in your mind to latch onto. Yet what remained when he already sent you to the stratosphere? What could you attach yourself to when you were floating above the clouds?

"Need you to move," you whined.

He kissed your ear, grinding against you with a rasped grunt. "So fucking tight bub. 'M tryin’ not to cum."

"But I want you to-"

Pulling back he thrust into you with a stunted shift of his hips—cutting off your words as you moaned. Your eyes rolled back when he began to move in earnest. His hips slapping against your ass and hand bunching the fabric of his flannel to pull you back along his cock. And you took it.

You were reduced to a moaning wet mess when he fucked into you with a growl. Searching for the place that would draw you over the edge with ease. The cry that wrenched from your throat—your body trembling in his grasp—told him he'd struck gold. A smile curved over his lips as he kept that angle. Thrusting into you with a needy growl you heard bounce off the cabinets and walls.

"That it?" His hand gripped your throat, pulling you up and off the table. "That's the spot huh bub."

A sob fell past your parted lips, tears spilling down your cheeks when his other hand found your clit—fingers pulling up the hood to press right against the nerve. A burning sensation began to build in your stomach. Unlike what transpired in the times before.

This felt like more. All encompassing and treacherous enough to split you right down the center.

Your fingers scrambled to clutch his wrist. Unable to discern if you wanted to push him away or keep him there.

Logan merely chuckled, going faster with ease. You choked on your spit, your knees buckling, but he merely clutched you tighter. Keeping you right where he wanted as he fucked you within an inch of your life. The wet squelch of his cock plunging into you only made the fire burn brighter. You swore you could feel the flames lick along your skin—eating you alive.

"Got no words for me honey?" he grunted, teeth biting at your jaw. "Don't tell me I fucked 'em all out of your head."

"Hngg-"

"What was that?"

Nails dug into his skin and a cracked sob ripped from your raw throat when you came. Your walls pulsing around him as something wet gushed down your thighs. It splattered against the table, causing Logan to feel as if all the breath was punched from his lungs. His fingers still moved, spreading the mess and pulling every last drop from your spent body.

Even as he fought to ram his cock into you without mercy—desperate for his own high. You whimpered with each shift of his hips, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open with gasped breaths. And Logan had never seen a prettier sight than this.

He felt his heart clench, breath aching for lungs, as he fucked you through it. Until your body sagged against his with a sigh—eyes fluttering open to reveal your dazed expression. His heart twisted at the sight, cock throbbing with a needy ache he could no longer ignore.

"Y-Your turn," you panted, reaching up with a shaky hand to draw his lips to yours.

"Yeah?" His hips shifted forward and your mouth dropped open. "You want me to fill you up honey?"

The quick nod was all he needed to start chasing the built up high that threatened to strangle him. But the shrill echo of your phone across the table killed him like a shot to his head. He bit back a snarl of rage when your eyes lazily dragged to the face down device. Your heart picking up speed at the thought of who might be trying to contact you.

"I can ignore it," you mumbled.

The temptation to murder whoever was on the other line built up like bile in the back of his throat. But like a better man, he swallowed it down with a grunt. Pulling himself free with a hiss as his cock slapped against his stomach—covered in the sticky white cream that was your cum and aching for a release that would have to come later.

"Might be your work." He tapped your ass, carefully placing himself back in his jeans with a pained grunt. "Go on bub. I'm okay."

A glimmer of disappointment flared to life in your eyes before you were answering without checking the screen. The soft hello barely audible over the rush of blood that blared in his ears. He knew he wouldn't die from this. But fuck if he didn't feel like his body might combust at the sensation of being edged so hard his chest hurt.

"Wade?"

His head whipped towards you—a look of blistering fury crossed his face as he ripped the phone from your grasp. "You motherfucker," he snarled.

"You should really fuck with your knees Log. Save that adamantium skeleton." His voice was light, cheerful, and Logan had never wanted to rip him to shreds more.

"Are you watching us?" Your eyes widened and before Wade could give a snarky response, you were facing the still open window.

Wade stood across the street in his living room, waving with a knife. "Gotta give you pointers peanut. I've never been so hard in my life."

"Oh god," you sighed, covering your face. You reached for the phone; Logan gave it over before he could crush it in his fist. "Wade!"

"Whoa sweet angel! Don't go screaming my name after your man just made you see Natasha Romanoff in the afterlife. Did you tell her I said hi by the way?"

"It's rude to spy on people Wade Winston Wilson." His face fell as Logan snickered behind you. "Now I want an apology. Or I'm calling Nessa."

Though you couldn't see him well, you caught the way his face paled. "Right. I'm sorry. I won't be a perv next time. Even if you do have your window open and are screaming Logan's name so loud they can hear you on Knowhere."

"I wasn't-"

"And for your information FYI, I didn't spy. I just happened to see him and you bent over a table and assumed." He smiled, toothy and proud. "Can't fault me for being right on the money."

In an attempt to control your breathing (so as not to ask Logan to cut off Wade's limbs) you smiled through the flicker of annoyance. He was your friend. The person who was there for you in times when you needed someone. You couldn't really stay mad at Wade—even if the actions did call for the anger.

Especially not when you were still in the throws of recovering from the greatest orgasm of your life.

"I'd say I could do better, but now I'm not so sure angel face. I think Logan's won this round."

Surprisingly, you laughed. "He definitely won this round."

Logan stepped in closer when he was mentioned—his head dipping to hear Wade's voice through the phone. Unconsciously you found yourself leaning into his warmth—your body seeking out the gentle aftercare from the man who held your heart in his hands. His arm went around your waist, lips placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, and Wade groaned audibly in completely disgust.

"Would you get a room. God it's like watching an episode of WandaVision. Only this time it's the deleted scenes where they were allowed to actually fuck." He smiled, fingers forming a faux gun as he winked.

"We all know the robot dicking her down extravaganza exists Marvel. Don't lie."

"Your fault for peeking in on the show Wade," you replied, eyes fluttering shut as Logan fixed the flannel to cover as much of you as possible.

"I get it. I'm an unpaying customer. Therefore not wanted." He sighed, gesturing to no one in particular. "I mean what about those guys? They get a free show!"

"Wilson," Logan bit out, his claws sliding free to cover the top of your thighs.

Another weary (yet dramatic and totally Oscar worthy) sigh came through the phone. "I'll just dance the Lonesome Tango tonight. Don't mind me, taking all of the domesticity in so I can vomit."

You smiled when Logan nudged your cheek with his nose. "Goodnight Wade."

"Hardly good! Ness is out for the day and what about me? Don't I have needs? Am I not just a boy looking at the couple he's going to third wheel someday saying: please save some pancakes for me?"

The gasp that flew from your mouth was loud enough to be heard through the open window as Logan ripped the phone from your ear. Cussing out the man who stared at you with a Cheshire grin big enough to fill up an entire room. He waved, tossing his phone to the couch as he leaned out the window.

"Turns out you are gonna dance again peanut!"

Before you could shout a response, Logan was slamming the window shut with a growl. His claws slicing through the already fragile wood at the base of it as the lock slid into place. The middle finger he offered was all Wade got before Logan was dragging you back towards the bedroom; the decision to buy you some fucking curtains now solidified in his mind.

"Favorite movie?"

He groaned, dragging your legs over his lap as you curled into his side. "I've been alive too fuckin' long to choose honey. Tell me yours."

A wince overtook your features as Logan ran his hand up and down your bare leg—his gaze determined to trace every detail of your face a thousand times over. Hoping that over time he'd find new things to fall in love with. New pieces of you he'd grow to cherish. He settled on the shape of your lips—watching them move with each words you spoke.

"Okay don't laugh at me. It's a good movie." You toyed with his fingers, thumb tracing the spaces between his knuckles where his claws broke the skin to come free. "The Mummy."

His eyebrows pulled together. "Isn't that the one where they...fight a fuckin' mummy?"

You nodded, laughter falling on his perked up ears. "Listen! She's a librarian who gets to go on an adventure and fall in love. I'm an archivist who...well meeting you has been an adventure and..."

You fell in love.

Saying the words out loud felt wrong. Misplaced. Yet you'd never felt something sit in your chest so perfectly and feel like it belonged. Love had always been a complicated formula that felt impossible to crack. After all, no real theory ever mixed well with something so convoluted.

But nothing else could possibly make the same amount of sense with you as those three words did.

Logan watched every thought cross your face; every problem you struggled with now on full display for him to see. He willed himself to say them aloud. To simply let them fall free and settle in your heart with ease. But the last person he said them to now hated his very existence. They held an entirely different heart yet wore the exact replica of your face.

That only seemed to complicate the matter further.

So he pressed a kiss to the space between your eyebrows until the skin smoothed, and pulled you out of the internal battle you seemed to be losing.

"Tell me about your family bub."

You perked up, eyes alight with the joy that lingered from hours before. "My sister?" He nodded. "Oh well she's a teacher. Works at a high-school in the city."

"Guess you were bound to have another teacher in your life huh?" His heart twisted when you laughed, your fingers curling into his hair—toying with the sides without even realizing it.

"I guess so." You sighed, settling against his body. "It's funny, because I'd have never met Wade if it wasn't for her. This used to be her place before she—ya know—got married and stuff. Wade actually sold her the car I borrowed the day I met you."

His hand traveled higher, slipping to the curve of your hip. "Sneaky little fucker," he muttered.

"Although I think nearly killing me in the street is what really made me like him."

Logan jolted, his hand pinching your chin to face him. "What the fuck do you mean nearly killing you?"

The smile on your face did nothing to appease the fresh wave of anger that filled his body. If anything he only felt it eat away at him faster. Like a parasite with no cure. You were so calm about the entire situation. So nonchalant as you explained to him what actually happened.

That alone terrified him.

What if one day something like this happened again? What if the person who would cause you harm was someone he couldn't save you from?

Dread weighed heavy on his stomach like a rock he never intended to swallow. Even as you spoke he could feel the way it pulled at him. Dragging him into a darkness he'd never escape. He endured it once before, swam to the shore and climbed his way out, but to lose you was to put an end to his existence in this universe.

Logan couldn't die.

But he'd sure as hell find a way to if you were no longer by his side.

"I know he didn't mean to almost hit me with his knife. He was aiming for the guy behind me." You placed a kiss on his wrist, right above his pulse point. "Anyways we laugh about it now. Wade calls it fate. And since I met you...I kinda feel like he's right."

The breath caught in his chest. "Honey you got no idea..."

Lips trailed up his arm, sending chills down his spine as you placed kiss after kiss along his body. Right to his chest. Your tongue licked along his nipple—sucking it into your mouth and drawing a stuttered moan from his parted lips. His cock twitched in his jeans, the lost orgasm from earlier now raring to life with each delicate brush of your mouth on his skin.

Scraping your teeth on his pec, he felt his hips shift in an effort to find even a brief second of relief. You smiled at the feeling of him hard and aching against your thigh.

"You didn't get to cum earlier," you murmured, kissing along his jaw, nose brushing his cheek. The slight brush of your hand dipping along his stomach and down into his jeans drew a ragged groan from his chest. "Fair's fair baby."

Soft skin of your palm met his still leaking cock and the surprise that flickered across your face at the knowledge that he'd been dripping all night for you turned his mind numb. His kiss seared your entire being as you stroked him slowly. Logan shoved his jeans down the best he could with you blocking his way, simply to feel your palm drag down his length to cup his balls still covered in your sticky cum.

A breathy whine you never heard before slipped past his lips—his head falling back when your mouth latched onto his throat. Teeth and tongue sucking a mark that would fade within seconds. But catching a glimpse of the purple bruise made your heart flutter.

The wet slide of your hand filled the room with each pump. His hips canted up into your fist, fucking the slick hole you formed around him with panted grunts of nonsensical words.

It didn't build steadily like before where he held the capability of holding out. Now he felt helpless to the burn that forced its through his veins. The tension pulling taut in his stomach.

Only for you to pull away.

"W-What?" he rasped, his eyes flying open to see how you fell back on the bed—fingers popping open the shirt button by button.

"Come here," you breathed, hooking your foot around his hip. "Don't you wanna fuck my face baby?"

His mind went blank. Eyes dazed and mouth open as he watched you smile up at him—mischief shining bright in your gaze. You were an angel sent from who knows where bestowed upon him like a gift. An apology for all he'd gone through.

If the light he saw as he took his last breath was your face, he'd die a happy man.

Beckoning him forward with your hand on his thigh, Logan knelt above your chest. He could see how you longed for him to press weight against you—the feel of your palm against his ass telling him enough. But risking it would never be an option. He knew how much his skeleton as a whole weighed; you would not survive five seconds of it atop your body entirely.

"So pretty," you cooed, wrapping a hand around his cock as he shuddered. "Can I taste you Logan?"

He nodded dumbly, hand cupping the top of your head to keep himself grounded. Only for his soul to leave his body at the feel of your lips sucking him in. The wet heat of your mouth felt like a death to his heart. He'd never recover.

Yet one truth remained ingrained in the back of his mind.

He didn't want to survive.

"Fuck," he breathed, canting his hips down and into your waiting mouth.

The second his tip brushed the back of your throat, Logan knew he'd never last. He was a man lost in the depths of your body. Finding his way back to himself was never an option. You suckled on him with a whimper, letting him slowly thrust into your mouth as your fingers dug into the flesh of his ass.

Moans fell from his mouth with ease; words eventually following suit. "You fuckin' like this huh? You like me sitting on your face?"

Another muffled sound vibrated against his cock. His balls began to draw up slightly—thighs practically numb with the pleasure that consumed him. He sunk deeper, fucking your throat with a wet gasp, his body curving over yours and hand pressing to the mattress for stability.

"Fuck your mouth is heaven." He panted through the flames that licked at his spine, fighting to stay with you. "Gonna make a mess of you."

A jolt of lightning echoed across his skin when your hand slipped between his legs to fondle his balls, massaging the tender skin as tears dripped down into your hair. Whatever sanity he held left would wither away with the tendrils of his oncoming orgasm. But this isn't how he wanted to finish.

Ripping himself away, you barely got out half a question of what he was doing, before you were yanked into his lap—his tongue invading your mouth in a messy kiss. Spit spread across his cheek, but you seemed to get the hint when he grinded up into your dripping cunt.

"I promised to fill ya honey," he grunted, guiding your hand to wrap around his pulsating cock. "I don't break my promises."

With a sigh of his name pressed to his mouth, you guided him to your entrance, sinking down slowly to engulf him into your throbbing walls. A rough noise tore from his throat at the feeling—his body barely giving him enough time to comprehend that he'd been on the edge for far longer than he realized.

"Shit!" His thumb found your clit, working you over with quick circles that had your body curving into his. "'M not gonna last. Need you to fuckin' cum for me bub."

"Let go," you mumbled, dragging yourself up and off his cock. Only to sit back down hard enough to make him go blind. "Fill me up baby. Make it spill out."

His teeth set into your shoulder, claws sinking into your already ruined mattress to steady himself. He clutched you to him with a hoarse shout of your name as he came. Rope after rope of his spend spurted into your waiting body, drawing a soft breathy moan out from your swollen lips. You held him close, lips sliding along his neck, and talked him through it.

"Thank you baby," you sighed, grinding your hips along his lap. "Feels so good. So warm."

The lilt of your words bled with the adoration you felt for him in the center of your chest. The fact that you didn't finish didn't feel necessary when you had him like this. Entirely wrapped around you—face pressed into your chest and soul desperate to brush against yours.

"One of these days I'm gonna die like this bub."

You smiled, dragging your lips along his temple. "Would that be so bad?"

"Mm." Teeth scraped your skin as he slowly fell back onto the bed, taking you with him. "Probably not."

What lingered in the space between was a silence you reveled in. A peaceful kind of calm that created a bubble of warmth for the both of you to exist. Not completely in the world, yet never out of it entirely.

His body practically overheated beneath your skin, but you didn't mind the closeness. In fact, you found that you craved that above everything else. How he held you, allowed you to see the soft side of him that would normally be withheld.

This was the memory you'd hold close to your heart over the years. The one that'd always remain to give you a sense of peace in an otherwise crazy world.

"I'm really happy I met you Logan." The words weren't exactly what you wanted to say. But they felt close enough to exhibit the same emotion—the one that clawed at your heart, looking for a way to break free.

He hummed, dragging a hand down your spine. "Me too honey."

Settling atop him fully, you rested your ear where you knew his heart lay beneath layers of muscle and a cage of adamantium. The steady beat lulled you into a tranquil state. Where time no longer felt real and comfort became your only option.

Oh how you longed to remain here with him. Bound to nothing and no one, but each other.

note: i'm so sorry for what's about to befall these two.

[novemberheart]

{overview} John tightens his control. You get a reality check

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, fem reader, cursing, this is a John-heavy chapter

Chapter 6 <- Chapter 7 -> Chapter 8

You were thoroughly exhausted by the time you got back home. Johnny watched your sluggish form, half tempted to throw you over his shoulder.

“There you three are.” John greeted as soon as Kyle opened the door. John's eyes widened as Kyle came in with two large shopping bags. “I see you enjoyed your day out.” He raised a brow, his eyes roaming over your sleepy state.

“I had a very good day,” you spoke, beginning to take the bags from Kyle to bring them to your room.

“I got it,” he assured softly. ���Dinners in a few,” he reminded. The thought of eating anything else today made your stomach hurt.

“I don't think I can eat anything else. I'd like to just stay here if it's alright with you?” you questioned as he set the bag down by your door. One of your hands came up to rub at your eyes. He smiled knowingly, nodding his head in agreement.

“I’ll bring you back a dessert.” he winked.

You had begun to curl yourself up in bed when your phone went off.

“Hey, honey.” Kate greeted, almost hesitantly.

“Hi.” you chirped back. You could practically see her shoulders relax. “Guess who had a great day today.” you sang, pulling your covers over your head.

“Please God, be you,” she smirked on the other end.

“Ding. Ding. That would be correct.” you cheered. “Kyle and Johnny took me to the aquarium today, then out to lunch and then shopping.”

“Those are the boys I know.” she sighed- relieved. “Actually better than the boys I know. How'd you swing that?” she questioned.

“I didn't do anything. At first, I thought you said some”-

“I wouldn't do that,” she interjected.

“I know.” you soothed back. “I think maybe they felt bad about yesterday.” you reasoned.

“Well, hopefully, they keep it up. The good part, not the guilt part.”

“Fingers crossed.” you sighed. “Thanks for checking in Kate.”

“Of course, Honey. Oh and by the way you and John are going to have to stop by my office tomorrow. Paperwork and key cards. Nothing fun.” she huffed.

“Alright. See you then. Tell wifey I said ‘hi.’” you smiled, pressing the big red button.

You awoke especially chipper that morning. Only for that to be squashed the second you realized you were the only one in the house. John had left a note on the fridge.

Morning,

Out for a morning meeting, we’ll pick you back up for breakfast. Have fun with Simon.

-John

Simon?

“Don’t scream.” a voice echoed from behind you causing you to shriek. “Fucking hell,” Simon muttered under his breath.

“What are you doing on the couch?” you gasped, wondering how you missed his imposing frame spread out.

“You need to work on your awareness.” he chided, adjusting so he was sitting up. A pained groan escaped him and you rushed over to help. He held up a hand to stop you. “Don't need babying pup.” he groaned.

“Help isn't babying Simon.” you ignored the flutter in your stomach at his nickname for you. You plopped down on the couch next to him.

“How was your date yesterday?” he questioned, his blank eyes boring into yours.

“I had fun.” you smiled widely, cuddling into the plush cushion.

“Good.” he sighed. He turned back to the TV that was on mute.

“Why are you on the couch?” you repeated. “Shouldn't you be in bed?”

“Beds shite.” he huffed. He flicked the mute button off, deciding it was the end of the conversation.

“Are you happy to be home?” you piqued up.

“Happy to be in a quiet home,” he answered.

“Message received.” you snorted, turning to watch whatever prank show he had on.

“Honey, I'm home,” Johnny called bounding into view. He was carrying two takeout bags, handing one to Simon who eagerly began digging into it. Johnny pushed Simon's feet aside to make room for himself on the couch.

“How'd you sleep, Bon?” Johnny questioned.

“I slept good,” you replied, a little too focused on the food.

John rested a hand on the back of the couch, his other hand resting on your shoulder.

“Ready?” he hummed, nodding his head towards the door. You blushed as your stomach growled. “I'll take that as a yes,” John smirked. His large hand found a familiar spot on your back. High enough to be respectful, but low enough to send a message to those who passed.

“How was your day out?” John asked. He chose to eat next to you at the table. Considering it was just you and him, he wanted to be within arms reach of you. It was the second time you had been asked the question, but at least they cared.

“It was wonderful.” you declared, turning back to your breakfast.

“Glad to hear,” he spoke softly. John had a very natural and comforting purr to his voice. It was commanding- yet playful. Raspy - yet smooth. The baritone lull in his voice shot from your ears all the way down to your toes. You curled them in your shoes. He was a complicated man. You wondered if he would let you close enough to figure him out.

“Everything alright?” he said slowly. You had been staring at him. You shut your eyes tightly, tilting your head down towards the table.

“Yeah, sorry,” you assured quickly.

“S’alright, Sweetheart. If I've got something on my face please tell me.” he half joked.

“No. I just like the way your voice sounds.” you complimented. You know it didn't have anything to do with the way he looked, but it was an explanation- and the truth.

“That right?” the satisfaction in voice making you preen. “Well I got it from years of yelling and chain-smoking,” he explained, causing your shoulders to relax and a giggle to escape you.

“Well it suits you,” you added. The corners of his lips began to curl before his face fell. You didn't take it personally. You doubted it was professional to show a variety of emotions in the cafeteria.

“Kate has some things for us,” he spoke up after a while.

“Sounds good,” you already knew, but you were worried he would wonder why you didn't say anything.

As soon as Kate opened the door to her office you nearly flung yourself at her, desperate to catch even the slightest hint of a familiar scent. She huffed and patted you on the back before pushing you away. You snickered and plopped down in one of the cold leather seats. John bit back a smile at your excitement and sat down next to you.

Kate's office was nice. There was almost no effort put into it since it was just a temporary one for when she needed to be in the area.

“How have you two been?” she hummed, opening one of the filing cabinets, and fishing out two hefty manila envelopes.

“Good.”

“Fine.” John and you spoke at the same time.

“Heard Simon was able to go back home.” Kate smiled, plopping down in her desk chair.

“He’s recovering quicker. Thanks to this one.” he praised, nodding his head in your direction. You still doubted your part in the process. You had spent half a day with him and you two weren't yet bonded. But the belly-up omega in your head didn't care.

“Glad to hear, keep me posted please.” she requested. “Honey, this is for you.” she handed you the thicker of the two. “Think of it like a diary. It's going to have daily and weekly questions or surveys. There's a month's worth there. After you complete it the Omega Standards Bureau will send you another one and you'll turn that one into the representative on base.” she explained.

“Okay.” you agreed. “Do all omegas have to do this?” you questioned, taking a peek inside the envelope.

“They pick and choose who they give them to. I think they chose you because you're in a smaller SAS pack. With an equal number of alphas to betas all of which are male. Also, you were picked to be in the pack by an outside member, me.” she explained.

“I’m quite the experiment aren't I.” you chuckled, glancing over at John. His eyes were trained on the envelope and you knew he was just itching to dive in there himself.

“Can I ask what type of questions.” he finally spoke up.

“From what I understand it's going to be based more on how she feels throughout the adjustment period of the pack.” Kate clarified.

“Don't worry, I won't be overly specific,” you swore. You could sense his hesitation, which you assumed could be boiled down to having things about his pack exposed. He offered you a reassuring smile.

“This one is for you John.” she passed over the envelope to him. “Hard copies of her records, medical history, and that sort of thing. Also has the Omega Committee calendar with events and things.”

The Omega Committee. You remember Kyle talking to you about that at the aquarium. It was advertised as a club that rounded up all the omegas to do activities, but in reality, it just looked like a daycare.

“There was something else I wanted to discuss with you.” John cleared his throat. Your brows furrowed your mind automatically jumping to the deep end of the paranoid pool. “How would you feel about getting chipped, honey?” John inquired.

You had heard about that before. It was usually done in large packs so alphas knew which omegas belonged to who.

“You can say no of course and I don't want to scare you but I think it would be safer given our line of work,” John explained carefully. He spent half the night discussing with Simon how to bring this topic up to you.

“What would that entail?” you asked softly.

“It’s a small incision behind your ear- wouldn’t even leave a scar. It'll have mine and Simon’s name, and phone number,” he explained. He debated on whether or not he should tell you he wants one with a tracking ability. “How would you feel about one with tracking?”

“Tracking?” you gasped a bit taken aback. “Is that really necessary?” you were beginning to grow worried. You either had very paranoid alphas or you were in more danger than you imagined.

“Not necessary,” he assured quickly. “But I strongly feel it would be a good idea. Kyle has one. We kept getting separated from him on a mission. It’s also easy to take out, should you ever want to.”

The ending made you wince. While he didn't specify you knew the implications.

“I also think it's a good idea.” Kate agreed. “Not that anything will happen, honey. But even something small like getting separated while shopping, just knowing they already know where you are would make you feel better right?”

You weren't sure if Kate had a point or not. You weren't sure if you were ready for that type of control. Then again you have been controlled your whole life. An omega’s ‘purpose’.

“Can I think about it a bit more?” you reasoned gently. John sighed not so much in anger but in disappointment.

“Course.” He responded.

“There’s one more thing.” Kate spoke, her eyes drifting over towards you. It seemed to be time for you to go swimming again. “Tomorrow’s my last day, before heading back to the states.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. What if something happened? What if you needed to leave? Who would be here to help you? She was leaving you here completely and utterly alone. “John, can we have a moment?” She asked, her eyes beginning to water from the sudden tang in the air.

“Course.” He moved quickly, his own mouth watering (not in a pleasant way) at the sourness burning his senses. At least now he knew you had a strong defense mechanism.

“I know”-

“You’re abandoning me!” You cried out cutting her off. “How could you? You said you would be on base.” You sputtered, your fingers digging into the desk.

“For your first few days, honey.” The nickname just rubbed salt in your wounds. “I’ll still be able to help you if you need it. But I believe this will be better for you.” She half- snapped.

“Better for me? How is leaving me with strangers better?” You gawked. A sudden gust of Jasmine and peppermint hit you in the face, followed by the known smell of angry alpha. It was a difficult scent to describe. It was smokey, not in a soothing way, but in an all-consuming hard to breathe way.

“You are relying on me too much. You aren't giving this your best shot because, in the back of your mind you already believe you are going to leave. Do you know what the truth is, honey? You are lucky to be here. You have been paired with a very well-established pack- who, yes, have had a few reservations about you joining, but have made no effort to get rid of you- and they aren't going to. They are just a bunch of stubborn men who don't always know what they need. You are going from the safety of an omega house to the safety of one of the most vital packs in the world. You don't have to bargain for a place to live while you wait for a hopefully kind alpha to choose you. I love you like you are a part of my pack, honey, but I really need you to see how fortunate you are.” She was pleading with you now. The smoke from the air was gone, as were the bitter lemons. You slumped in your seat, your head resting in your hands.

“I’m sorry Kate.” you apologized softly. “I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I guess I just didn't realize”- you trailed off. There were a lot of things you hadn't realized. How important this pack truly was. How highly Kate thought of them. How significant your role in this pack would be. Along with even more respect for Kate, a feeling began to arise in your chest. A tangled web of stress, relief, and most importantly a nauseating wave of hope. You had the chance most omegas could only dream about.

Be the backbone of a strong pack.

And you finally felt ready for the challenge.

Another chapter is done and gone! The next chapter will be posted tomorrow because it's a short one! See you then! 🧡

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries • Oscar Piastri (PART FOUR)

Masterlist

There it is! Chapter 4! This is a very very angsty chapter, IM SORRY IN ADVANCE, but it had to happen for the plot to develop :'( Butttt, to make it a little better, it starts with smut hahah! And don't worry! I promise you that Oscar and the reader will be just fine & the next chapter will be having plenty of happy moments for them <3 Please let me know in the comments what you think of this chapter, because i'm honestly so insecure about this one!

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader (norris!reader) ↳word count: 3.5K ↳ parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, ↳chapter warnings: ANSGT!, smut, 18+ content (mdni!), oral (female!receiving), talking about feelings, emotional rollercoaster, brothers teammate trope, bestfriend!reader

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, Oscar finds himself grappling with unexpected feelings and rising tension, leaving him conflicted about how to handle his emotions

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

Once the calm had returned, reality began to set in. You grasped what had just transpired and what you had done. Did you regret it? No. Was it wise? Also no.

"I... um," you stammered, "I think I should go, they're probably waiting for us," you mumbled, eyes fixed on the floor. You tried to turn and leave your own room in haste until you felt Oscar's hand wrap around yours.

You turned back and met Oscar's gaze. He was now sitting up on the massage table. "Please, don't go," he whispered, his voice pleading. "Let me make you feel good too," he added, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hand and nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. You gave in the moment you saw the look in his eyes, the growing arousal between your legs making it even harder to think clearly.

Oscar offered a small smile and jumped off the massage table. He took your hand and pulled you close, guiding you until the back of your calves met the edge of the bed. One hand moved to your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. "If you want me to stop, just tell me, okay?"

You nodded in response, unable to find your voice, captivated by the effect he had on you. The moment he saw your nod, he gently pushed you onto the bed. Climbing on top of you, he paused at the button of your jeans, looking up for approval before finally undoing the first button.

Oscar skillfully removed your jeans, revealing your red lace panties. "Fuck, baby, you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice huskier than usual.

Baby, that was new, a nickname he hadn't used before, making the moment feel even more intimate.

You bit your lip as Oscar leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the inside of your thigh. He took his time to admire you, his fingers finding their way to your ass, squeezing lightly.

"Please, Osc," you begged, your hands tangling in his hair.

"Words, baby," he smirked. "Tell me what you want."

You released a soft moan as Oscar scattered small kisses on your thighs. "Anything. Touch me, Osc," you pleaded, tightening your grip on his hair, eliciting a soft groan from him. "I need you," you murmured, ending in a low moan as Oscar's finger traced up your clothed slit, sliding up and down, smirking as your body tensed.

"Can I take these off?" he asked innocently. Your breath hitched, your heart pounding.

"Yes," you said, and his fingers hooked around your underwear, swiftly pulling them down.

After removing your underwear, Oscar took his time to look at you before pressing a soft kiss against your inner thigh. His hands wandered up your legs, almost reaching the place you needed him most. "One last chance to back out. Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked gently.

"Please, just touch me," you murmured, frustrated by the building tension.

Obliging, he kissed his way up your legs, his hands squeezing your thighs firmly. Oscar placed a soft kiss on your cunt before parting your folds with his tongue. "Oh, you're so wet for me already, baby."

"Fuck," you moaned, your hips bucking upwards as his tongue found your clit. As Oscar moved his tongue in circles, you couldn't help but grab his hair, your fingers pulling as he expertly flicked his tongue against your clit, your body trembling with need.

Oscar groaned before pulling away slightly. "Fuck, baby, you taste so good," his voice huskier than ever.

His fingers gripped your hips tightly, pinning you in place as he slipped a finger inside you, eliciting more moans. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge.

"Osc, you're so good at this," you chanted, moans falling from your lips more frequently. "I'm so close, Osc."

Oscar groaned at your words, even more motivated to make you come hard. He slipped another finger inside you, his fingers joining his mouth. A smile crept on his face when he heard the moans caused by his actions.

You cried out, waves of pleasure washing over you, your body trembling as the pressure released into a heavenly feeling of relaxation. You pulled on Oscar's hair harder as you came with a loud moan, "O-Oscar."

Oscar's features were laced with lust as he watched you come undone beneath him. Your mouth was open, and your cheeks were flushed. To him, it was the most beautiful sight.

You reached out your arms, inviting Oscar to lay down with you. He couldn't resist and immediately crawled upwards, laying back on the bed and pulling you into his arms.

It was then that you realized the banging on your door. "Y/n, I'm coming in now! I've banged on this door long enough," Daniel called from the hallway.

"We're screwed," Oscar huffed, realizing you were both far from decent.

"One second, I'll be there," you yelled back, hoping he would be patient. You were wearing nothing but your t-shirt, while Oscar was only in his cum-stained boxers. You stumbled off the bed, running to grab your bathrobe, throwing Oscar his joggers.

You opened the door a tiny bit, peeking your head through the gap. "What's up?"

Daniel smirked. "I think it's more fitting if I ask you. I've been banging on this door for ages. Was afraid something was wrong. You weren't picking up your phone either."

Daniel was about to ask you something when he heard someone sneeze in your bedroom. He kicked the door open a bit more with his foot, his smirk growing. "Why are you wearing a bathrobe, and why is Piastri shirtless?"

You knew you screwed up. If you had just put your pants back on, you could have played it off as Oscar getting a massage. But with you in a robe, it was a lame excuse, because Daniel was smart enough to know that you wouldn't be doing that in bathrobe.... In other words: you both got caught like a couple of teenagers.

"Don't you dare say another word, Ricciardo," you warned, pointing your finger at him.

Daniel threw his hands up, chuckling. "Well, I don't have to see anything. I think we all know what you two were up to" he laughed loudly. "Just wanted to give you a heads up about something" he chanted with a laugh

"Danny, Oscar and I didn't sleep together!" you whisper yelled

"Yeah right, and I'm not Australian," he cackled, leaning against the doorframe.

Meanwhile, Oscar had made his way over to you, now standing next to you. He handed you your trousers, just out of Daniel's sight behind the door. He cocked his head towards Daniel, "A heads-up about what?" he asked.

You scooted yourself behind the door, so you were out of sight. You got rid of your rope and pulled both your underwear and trousers up your legs, quickly fixing the button. Already knowing that there was no point in denying that anything happened anyway, so you might as well made yourself look a little decent.

"Ha!" Daniel chuckled, looking at his fellow Australian "Oscar is not denying it!"

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Dan, we honestly didn't do anything. She's my best friend; we hang out in each other's rooms all the time," he explained, trying to keep a calm voice, though the blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

You returned to the door opening, standing beside a still flustered Oscar. "Whatever, just tell me why you're here?" you asked, but as the words left your lips, you heard someone rushing over, tackling you in a hug. It was your brother, Lando.

"Just wanted to give you a heads-up that Lando is here, but there he is," Daniel laughed, seeing both you and Oscar turning beet red.

Lando had his arms around you. "Daniel said he'd get you from upstairs, but he took so long that I decided to take matters into my own hands," he chuckled.

As Lando pulled away from the hug, he looked at Oscar and squinted. "Care to explain why you're shirtless in my sister's bedroom and why you look like you've just, well, been busy?"

Oscar froze, completely at a loss for words. You, on the verge of a horrible excuse, felt a kick from Daniel, signaling he'd cover for you.

Daniel laughed at Lando. "It honestly looks like they were up to something, and I'm sure many people would ship them. But that's not it. Would be hilarious, though," he began, making you wonder what his excuse could be. "Oscar here has been whining all day about a sore back because I fell on him during Twister," he lied convincingly.

"Yeah, I just offered to give him a massage since I'm his physiotherapist and know what helps," you added, trying to keep a straight face.

"And that had to be in your bedroom?" Lando huffed, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Shirtless?"

"She has her stuff here, so it was easiest. Too lazy to move it all," Oscar rolled his eyes. "And honestly, Lando, as my physiotherapist, it's pretty much inevitable that she sees me shirtless."

Daniel laughed again at their banter. "Lan, don't act like it's the first time he's shirtless with her. What do you expect with her job?" he teased. "Besides, you were the one encouraging her to take the job, so you don't have the right to whine like a protective older brother now"

Lando sighed in defeat, throwing his hands in the air. "Daniel, her job is to be his physiotherapist, not to, you know, do funny business with my teammate," he whined, air quoting the last part. "Everyone with a brain can see that look on his face. Besides, Oscar's joggers are inside out. We all know Oscar—that wouldn't happen if he wasn't in a rush."

Oscar squinted his eyes closed, feeling busted. He honestly didn't know what to say, afraid that anything would do more harm than good.

"Lan, come on," Daniel tried to reason, still trying to help with a cover. "It was nothing. Just let it go."

"No, Daniel. I think I can decide pretty well for myself when to let things go. Y/N is lying to me, and she knows it," Lando said, getting a little desperate now. "You're breaking our one rule, Y/N..."

"Jesus, Lando, you're acting like a child," you yelled, getting annoyed. "Oh, go fuck yourself, Lando."

Daniel grabbed Lando's arm, trying to calm him down, but without luck. "Hey! Don't yell at me when you're the one breaking our one rule!" Lando shouted back, anger rising in his voice. "Oh wait, you didn't even realize, did you? Too busy with my teammate's dick in your mouth, weren't you?"

"Lando! Come on," Oscar started, trying to defend both of you. "She didn't have my—" Oscar began but quickly got interrupted by your fuming state.

"So what if I did, Lando? Maybe I had Oscar's dick in my mouth. Who knows? Maybe I want him to fuck me. It's none of your business, Lando," you yelled back. "Would you rather have me fuck a random stranger in a bathroom stall in a club instead of your, oh-so-forbidden, teammate? Because I could make that happen if you prefer. We'll see how you react then."

Lando wanted to react until he felt Daniel's hand cover his mouth. "Lando, you're only making it worse," he softly spoke, trying to get Lando to calm down. "Come on, let's go."

Daniel pulled Lando with him, looking over his shoulder at Oscar and you one more time, sending you a small nod.

You let out a sigh as tears started welling up in your eyes. Turning around, you let yourself fall into Oscar's arms, resting your forehead against his shoulder. Oscar embraced you, placing a small kiss on the side of your head. "You didn't have to do that, you know. We could have just tried to convince him it was nothing," he murmured softly, resting his head in your hair.

"He wouldn't have believed it anyway; he knows me too well," you stated, tears rolling down your cheeks as you tightened your grip on Oscar's still shirtless body. "All this because we were being stupid, horny idiots. It shouldn't have happened."

Oscar sighed, feeling a pang in his heart. "I'm not gonna act like I regret it, because I don't," he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear.

You pulled away slightly, looking up at Oscar with a trembling lip. "I don't regret it either, Osc. It was amazing, but it shouldn't have happened. Just like yesterday," you sighed, gently grabbing his hand. "We can't happen, Osc."

"Why not?" Oscar asked, his voice trembling, tears threatening to form in his eyes. He was trying to keep his composure, to maintain his calm and contained persona, but his facade was slowly crumbling.

"Osc, please. Look at our jobs and our friendship. We shouldn't risk either," you said, tears streaming down your face, the remainder of your mascara smudging your cheeks. "Also, I can't do this to him, okay? I can't break my promise to him. I'm sorry," you said, referring to Lando, as you let go of Oscar's hand and walked away, storming towards the front door of the house.

You bumped into Lando, Logan and Daniel on your way to the exit. They were talking, probably about the situation. Your brother looked emotional, almost like he had been crying. Was he regretting what he said? You hoped he would.

You looked up at Lando, shaking your head. "Are you happy now? You've ruined everything, Lando," you cried, storming past him.

Logan took a deep breath "I think I have to go check up on Oscar, I don't think their conversation ended well" he said, referring to you and Oscar.

Daniel nodded at him, agreeing "They were in her room"

Logan send him a nod and made his way up towards your room, noticing the door ajar. He approached the door and looked inside, revealing a defeated Oscar Piastri sitting on your bed. His head in his hands. Logan knocked on the door, signaling to Oscar that he was there "Are you okay?" Logan asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Oscar shook his head, softly looking up at Logan, his eyes puffy and bloodshot, a clear indicator that Oscar was crying "Can I come in?" the American asked.

Oscar shrugged his shoulders, nodding carefully, tears rolling down his cheeks. Oscar let out a shuddering breath as he felt his friend sitting down next to him, his gaze directed towards the floor. Logan put his arm around his friend, trying to comfort him in the best way possible "Wanna talk about it?"

Oscar sighed in a defeated voice, trying to stop the tears from spilling, failing miserably as he explained what happened. Logan felt so bad for his best friend, seeing how much it hurt him.

"I think she'll come around," Logan remarked, rubbing his hand up and down Oscar's back in a reassuring manner.

"I don't think she will. She's right, you know. I don't want her losing her job over this. I don't think Zak would be very delighted with me dating my own physiotherapist. I don't even know if it's allowed to date a coworker," Oscar sighed. "And besides all that, I don't even know if she feels the same about me anyway. For all I know, what we did could have been purely about lust."

"I highly doubt that, to be honest," Logan stated confidently. "She wouldn't have thrown such a big fight with Lando if it didn't mean anything to her."

"You don't know that. And like I said, it doesn't matter anyway. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if she loses her job over this," Oscar declared, wiping away a few more tears. "It just sucks because I love her so much."

Logan hugged his friend, trying to comfort him more. "Just promise me one thing, Oscar. Please put yourself first for once. Don't let yourself get hurt too much."

"When it comes to her, I can't promise you anything. But I'll try."

Logan stood up, hoisting Oscar up from the bed as well. "Come on, let's get you some distraction. You need it."

What Logan and Oscar didn't know was that Lando had been eavesdropping on them. He wasn't proud of himself, but to justify himself, he hadn't planned on it. He was actually on his way to apologize to Oscar, but he heard the two young drivers talking and didn't want to interrupt.

Lando was frozen in place when he saw the two walk through the door, coming eye to eye with him. The British driver looked at his teammate, noticing the bloodshot, puffy eyes. He felt the intense amount of guilt he was carrying grow even more. "Osc... I-I'm..."

Logan shook his head at Lando, pulling Oscar away from him. "Haven't you done enough already, Lando?"

"I just wanted to apologize," Lando declared, the guilt evident in his voice.

"Yeah, the damage has already been done, Lando. Please just leave him alone for now."

—————⋆₊⁺☾⋆later that evening⋆☾⋆₊⁺—————

It was almost midnight when everyone, except for Lando and you, had gone to bed. When you were getting some fresh air in the garden earlier that evening, your brother had joined you. He sat down next to you, noticing the cigarette between your fingers.

"I thought you'd quit?" he asked nonchalantly, trying to keep the conversation light.

"I did," you said, sticking it between your lips, inhaling the smoke, before slowly letting it escape again. "But then I fell in love with my brother's teammate," you whispered.

It was true, you did quit smoking, years ago. It was a habit you developed in high school. You didn't smoke often, just when it all got too much. You'd quit when the friendship with Oscar blossomed. You suddenly just didn't feel the need anymore. You always carried a pack somewhere in your bag, just in case, but honestly never felt the need to, until now. It was the first one in years.

Lando sighed, felt his breath hitching in his throat. "You really love him, don't you?"

You took another drag from your cigarette, before directing your gaze towards your older brother. Your puffy, teary eyes met his guilt-filled eyes. You nodded.

"God, I'm honestly the biggest asshole in existence," Lando declared, his eyes tearing up now, his breathing getting a little ragged.

"It's fine," you uttered.

"Y/n, honestly, it's not. Not one single bone in your body should be okay with this," he began, standing up from where he was seated, pacing around. "I completely and utterly fucked up. I just have to stop acting like a little shit and get my head out of my arse. And you are right, I’d rather have you sleeping with my teammate than some random dude in a nightclub. It's just that you are my baby sis and I just don't want you to get hurt. And if it's by one of my teammates, it just feels like I could have prevented it somehow. I'm just protective over you and I let it get to my head too much."

A small smile appeared on your face at your brother's remark. "I'm not saying you weren't being a total dick, because you were," you explained, running a hand through your hair. "I'm just saying it's fine. Oscar and I couldn't have happened anyway, Lan. You allowing it wouldn't change anything."

Lando looked a little confused. "What's holding you back?"

You took a deep breath and explained what you had explained many times, to many people, including Oscar. "It's our friendship and our jobs, Lando. I work for the team, and Oscar is a driver. There's a professional boundary that we can't cross without serious repercussions. Even if we tried to keep it secret, it would eventually come out, and that could jeopardize both our careers. And then there's the risk to our friendship. If things went wrong between us, it wouldn't just hurt me or Oscar, it would affect the whole team dynamic. It's a complicated situation, and as much as I care about him, there are too many factors at play. Sometimes love isn't enough to overcome the practical realities of life."

Lando listened, his expression softening with understanding. "I get it," he said quietly. "I don't like it, but I get it. I'm sorry for making things harder for you."

You nodded, appreciating his words. "Thanks, Lando. It means a lot to hear you say that."

"And you said that 'sometimes love isn't enough to overcome the practical realities of life,' but that also means love sometimes is enough," he began, directing his gaze back to you, his eyes meeting yours again. "And honestly, if you two are as perfect for each other as everyone says, maybe you should consider taking the risk. It might be worth it, you know."

A sigh left your lips, and you pondered his words. Maybe Lando was right. "I'll think about it."

Lando gave you a small, supportive smile. "We'll figure it out, sis. Somehow, we'll figure it out."

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.1

Chapter Summary: Tommy asks for your help proposing to Maria, causing both you and Joel to reflect on your own relationship.

Chapter Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, fear of commitment, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, dirty talk

WC: 6.1K

Series masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: hi everyone! if you're new and didn't read the first story, this follows a slightly different timeline. Essentially, Joel and Tommy had a very successful construction business in NYC and reader worked for them pre-outbreak, so I've written in this story a slightly younger version of Joel given the timeline.

Thank you to everyone who loved the first one so much that it encouraged me to write a sequel! I really hope you like it, and I want to emphasize there will be a happy ending to this story. Thanks for reading!

June 2007

"Can't thank you enough for your help, darlin'," Tommy said, his voice trying and failing to hide the anxiety that plagued his mind.

"Don't mention it," you told him, finishing up the final touches on the bouquet of flowers, wrapping a beautiful satin ribbon around the stems before handing it over. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm gonna ask her to marry me," he blurted out, and your hands instantly flew to your mouth, covering your excited gasp.

"Tommy!" you squealed, bouncing on the balls of your feet, trying to contain your energy before giving up and rounding your workstation to wrap your arms around him, being mindful not to crush the flowers he was holding. "I'm so happy for you, oh my god!"

"Well, thanks, but she ain't agreed, yet," he said, running a shaky hand through his long hair.

"She's going to say yes, don't be silly," you told him, a smile permanently etched on your face. You and Maria have been close friends ever since you met three years ago. You considered her to be your closest friend in Jackson, and you were thrilled at the idea of your best friend about to experience the happiest moment of her life. Tommy had come a long way from the man you knew before the outbreak, his days of chasing every girl that tossed him a smile long behind him.

"So, how are you going to do it?" you asked excitedly as he shifted back and forth on his feet. He paused and flicked his eyes up.

"Uh," he said, growing shifty. "Well, I dunno. Do I gotta plan somethin'?"

"Yes!" you said, rolling your eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

"Well, shit, I didn't think that far ahead!" he exclaimed, turning to pace around the greenhouse.

"Don't stress, we'll figure something out," you assured him, scooting back so you could lift your hips and sit on your workstation tabletop. "Did you find a ring?"

"Yeah, I got that, at least," he said, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he dug it out of his pocket. You plucked it from his fingers carefully so you could get a better look at the three round, shiny diamonds set on the center of a gold band.

"It's perfect," you told him warmly, handing it back. He allowed a small smile as he shoved it back into the safety of his pocket.

"Will you help me figure out how to do it?" he asked.

"Of course I will," you told him. "She doesn't like a fuss. It should be private. Small. Romantic. And you need to come up with something thoughtful to say." He nodded, his gaze traveling to the wall, lost in thought before he shifted his eyes back to you.

"Like what?"

"Tommy! Come on!" you scolded him, shoving his shoulder.

"I ain't good at all that, cut me some slack!" he said with a grin. "I need an example. What would you wanna hear?"

You paused, your smile frozen on your face as you felt your blood run cold. Your smile began to slowly slip as your heart slammed in your chest, anxiety creeping up your neck, ears ringing. Naturally, you were thinking about Joel bending down on one knee, professing his love to you and begging you to be his forever. A thought that should have filled you with warmth, but instead, scared you shitless. And your reaction itself made it even worse. Why would the thought of Joel proposing scare you? You never wanted anyone else. Once you met, it just wasn't a question anymore. You were his, and he was yours. An understanding, it didn't need to be said. So why does the thought of him saying it make you feel like you're falling down an endless hole in the ground?

"Um," you managed to squeak out, but Tommy had already moved on, wrapped up in his own dilemma.

"I think I know what I could say," he said, not noticing your sudden paralysis. "Can you do me a favor, though? Could you round up any candles you ain't usin'? Preferably unscented, don't need the whole place smellin' like a mix of cookies, pine and roses."

"Yeah, of course. I'll look when I get home and bring them over," you mumbled.

"Great, thanks again, darlin'! I'll see you in a bit," he said with a more confident smile, rushing out the door to leave you with your thoughts, your legs swinging mindlessly over the edge of the workstation. The workstation Joel had thoughtfully built for you because he insisted you needed somewhere proper to work in the greenhouse.

And he also broke the only desk you had.

You hung your head, feeling shameful and confused. Why hadn't you ever thought about this before? What would you have done if he proposed and you never sorted out your feelings about marriage? About kids?

"Shit," you whispered, the mere thought of kids making your throat squeeze shut. Bringing a child into this world? He wouldn't want to do that, would he?

Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. Maybe he felt the same as you. Why change something that's working so well? You both loved each other, what difference did it make? But the devil on your shoulder threw back a counter argument.

If it didn't make a difference, then why didn't you want to do it?

You rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes aggressively. You really needed to stop making problems out of nothing. This wasn't about you and Joel, it was about Tommy and Maria.

You sighed and made your way down the long aisle towards the door, deciding it was close enough to the end of your shift.

"Hey, I was callin' your name, didn't you hear me?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin and turned around to find Joel leaning against the doorframe of the spare bedroom. He eyed up the half empty box next to you on the floor and looked back at you questioningly.

"No, sorry, guess I was lost in my thoughts or something," you told him, turning back to rifle through the plastic storage tote. Joel took a few steps into the room and sat down on the spare bed, the springs squeaking under his weight.

"What're you thinkin' about?" he asked as he watched you pulling out each candle and giving them a sniff before deciding which pile to add them to.

"Huh?" you asked him, still jumpy from your revelation earlier. "Oh, it's nothing, really." Even to your own ears, the excuse sounded lame, so you weren't surprised when Joel didn't buy it.

"Must be somethin' if it's got you all distracted," he urged you gently. You shook your head and gave him a believing smile.

"No, really, it's nothing. Just thinking about work. I left early today, I'm just thinking about what I need to do tomorrow," you lied as you finished up going through the candles, snapping the plastic tote lid back on and shoving it into the spare closet.

"Why'd you leave early?" Joel asked with his eyebrows knit. "Feelin' okay?"

He's always so thoughtful, so concerned about you. It made the pit in your stomach worsen, the guilt flaring.

"Oh, yeah, fine. I just told Tommy I would get him these extra candles as soon as possible, so I'm gonna head over there real quick," you explained. As you leaned down to pick up the box, Joel's hand shot out to stop you, choosing instead to lift it up himself.

"I can do it," he said, then looked back down at the open box curiously. "Why does he need so many candles?"

"Well," you said, turning to leave the room so your face wouldn't give anything away when you told him. "He's going to propose to Maria. He has some special thing planned, involving candles, I guess. We should probably standby in case he lights the house on fire," you joked over your shoulder as you made your way down to the kitchen. You knew you were rambling a bit, but you hoped Joel didn't pick up on your nervousness.

"He's what?" Joel exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks in the hallway, still holding the box of candles. You turned your attention towards him again as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Yep, he told me today. He asked me to make a bouquet for him at work," you told him, studying his face carefully. Joel looked stunned as he stared out the window behind you while he processed the information.

"Well, goddamn," he said, finally snapping out of it with a smirk. "I'll take these over so I can give him shit for not tellin' me sooner." He readjusted the box in his arms before he turned around towards the front door, his reaction giving you a bit of relief. He was just happy for his brother, and didn't appear to be overthinking your own relationship, like you couldn't stop doing.

Naturally, you worried about nothing. You were both perfectly content with the way things were. Feeling silly for even being nervous in the first place, you followed him to the front door and stopped him before he left.

"Hey, wait," you said from the door, causing him to turn around just as he was about to descend the stairs. "How about a kiss before you go?"

He grinned and, dropping the box in a chair by the front door, reached forward with both hands to cradle your face and pulled you towards him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. Your fingers gripped the front of his T-shirt as you sighed contentedly against him, his usual scent of gunpowder, sweat and something uniquely him filling your nostrils. You opened your mouth and licked gently at his lips, causing him to smile and slide his tongue alongside yours with a quiet groan while one of his hands released your jaw to get tangled in your hair. He gave your head a gentle tug backwards in an attempt to get you to open your mouth wider, but when a soft moan escaped your lips from the sensation, he felt himself stiffen in his jeans. He pulled you back further so you lost contact and he looked down at your flushed face, his hands still in your hair and on your jaw.

"I'll take these later," he said huskily, nodding to the candles next to the door as he walked you backwards inside the house.

"No, no, you have to take them now," you giggled as his mouth latched onto your neck. "He needs them before Maria gets home." He growled against your skin and begrudgingly pulled away, his eyes raking up and down your body before he stepped backwards.

"Don't move, I'll be back in ten minutes," he told you, grabbing the box and jogging down the steps. You laughed and closed the door behind him, wondering why you let yourself get worked up over nothing. Everything was great between you, you were never more sure of anything in your life. In the back of your mind, you knew you had to figure out why you had such a negative reaction to the thought of marriage in the first place, but you decided to put that off for another day.

"Can't believe you didn't tell me, you little shit," Joel teased with a smirk the minute Tommy swung the door open. He pushed his way into the house and glanced around quickly to make sure Maria wasn't there before turning back to Tommy.

"Heard you needed some mood lighting," Joel said, raising an eyebrow when Tommy ruefully snatched the box from his arms.

"Yeah, thanks," was all Tommy could manage, his nerves getting the best of him the more time passed.

"Nervous or somethin'?" Joel asked his brother as he casually took in the half-done scene he was setting in the living room. Candles were randomly dispersed throughout the room and two empty wine glasses were placed on top of the mantle.

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' nervous, 'course I'm nervous, shit," Tommy said as he raked a hand through his hair and got to work sifting through the box.

"Well, it ain't like she's gonna say 'no'," said Joel in a poor attempt at easing his brother's nerves.

"Don't matter. I gotta do it right. It'll mean a lot to her, she's probably got some fantasy in her head already 'bout how it'll go. I can't screw this up," Tommy said as he pushed past Joel to balance more candles on the bookshelf.

"Nah, you're overthinkin' it, they just like the ring so they can show it off," Joel replied, thinking back briefly to the time when he was engaged before the outbreak. Amy hardly cared about the effort he put into the proposal, but her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw the huge diamond he picked out.

"Oh, brother, you couldn't be more wrong. Your own girl told me I need to do somethin' thoughtful. Somethin' romantic. Shit, you're lucky you got me before you swiped the biggest rock you could find and think that'll be enough to make her happy," Tommy grinned as he nudged Joel's shoulder playfully, making his way back into the kitchen to pick out a bottle of wine.

Joel chewed on his lower lip and cracked his knuckles before scratching his beard, his eyes flicking around the room, lost in thought, while Tommy began to light the candles. Tommy noticed the sudden silence and paused, straightening up and raising an eyebrow at his brother.

"You already got a ring, don't you?"

Joel met his gaze for a moment before clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

"I've had it for months," Joel admitted, bringing his thumb and pointer finger up to rub his eyes.

"Holy shit, Joel! Why didn't you say anythin'?" Tommy exclaimed, walking over to clap his brother on the back.

"I don't know. You never said anythin', either," he said with a shrug.

"Well, when are you gonna do it?" Tommy asked, turning back to light the candles, grateful for the distraction.

"Don't know. Never seems like the right time," said Joel as he picked up the bottle of red wine Tommy placed on the mantle, scrutinizing the label. "And it's a good thing, too, seein' as I need to rethink how I'm gonna ask her, apparently."

"Yeah, well, one of these days I can ask Maria for advice, if you want," Tommy said, brushing his palms on the sides of his jeans as he made his way to the window, peering out to make sure she wasn't coming home early. "Least I could do, since I got help from your girl."

"Yeah, maybe," Joel replied as he distractedly ran his palm over his mouth.

"Alright, get the hell out of here, I gotta change and put the flowers in a vase before Maria gets home," Tommy said, pushing Joel towards the front door. He opened the door but Joel paused, turning around quickly and enveloping Tommy in a rare, quick hug.

"Congrats, brother. She's gonna love it," he said, gesturing vaguely around the living room. Tommy grinned and nodded.

"Thanks. Now leave, I mean it," he said, giving Joel a shove. Joel laughed and shook his head.

"I'm leavin', I'm leavin'," he said with a wave over his shoulder. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way slowly down the street.

He was telling Tommy the truth about the ring. He hadn't gone out looking for it, but one day, months ago, when he was on patrol with Eugene, he just happened to see it. They had been exploring an abandoned shopping mall, and when he walked by the jewelry store, he had glanced inside at the broken glass display cases and spotted what he thought was the perfect ring for you. It was an oval diamond set on a delicate, white gold band. He had picked it up and examined it thoughtfully, imagining what it would look like on your finger. He briefly looked at the other choices, and none of the others seemed to resonate with him the way that one did. So he pocketed it before Eugene noticed he was lingering, and hid it in an old shoe he had in the closet when he got home.

When he first came home with the ring, he couldn't stop fantasizing about how he would ask you, what he would say, what you would say. But he hadn't been in any rush to ask, and he hadn't really thought about it much after that, he just knew he wanted to spend his life with you. He had almost forgotten all about it until you told him about Tommy's plan earlier that day. But now that his brother had him thinking about it again, the idea of officially making you his and calling you his wife made him feel excited.

He walked through the front door and kicked his boots off before he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he saw you drying some plates and putting them away. You glanced over your shoulder when you heard him enter the room before turning back to your task.

"Little longer than ten minutes," you teased. You were drying your hands on the dish towel when his arms snaked around your waist and he buried his face in the back of your neck. You squirmed, his grip loosening so you could turn around and gently circle your arms around his neck. "What took you so long?"

He shrugged and leaned down to press a chaste kiss where your neck met your shoulder.

"Just got to talkin'," he murmured, pressing another kiss in the same spot. You hummed and tilted your head to the side a bit, closing your eyes.

"I was thinking, maybe we should throw them an engagement party," you whispered, trying to stay focused as his lips brushed along your neck, his scruffy beard giving you goosebumps. "I can ask Carrie to help, she loves that kind of thing."

"That'd be nice," he mumbled in agreement, flipping his head in the other direction so he could continue his torture on the opposite side of your neck. "We can have it here."

"Yeah," you sighed as you shifted your weight, trying to ignore the ache growing between you legs. "I thought we could - "

You inhaled sharply when he pinched the skin of your collarbone between his teeth, leaving an angry red mark there. Your fingers found their way into his dark curls, gripping them tightly as your breathing became shallow.

"Hm?" he asked, hiding his smirk against your skin.

"Thought we could do it outside," you mumbled, quickly finishing your thought.

"Whatever you want," he said, his voice gravelly as he pulled you into him roughly, earning a small yelp from you. His lips latched onto yours, softly humming against your mouth, the warm exhale from your nose fanning gently over his face. You pulled away, breaking the kiss as he began slowly walking you backwards towards the stairs, his eyes dark as he stared you down.

"Maybe Julia's class can make decorations. I think Maria would like that," you said breathlessly, gazing up at him, meeting his heated stare. "What do you think?"

Joel gave you half a smirk when the backs of your legs bumped up against the lowest step.

"I think you better get up to bed right now before I toss you over my shoulder and do it myself," he said lowly, sending a shiver down your spine.

A playful grin spread across your face as you turned on your heel and raced up the stairs, Joel following hot on your trail, taking them two at a time.

You barely pushed the bedroom door open before his hands were on you, eagerly skirting over your hips and up your arms before coming to rest on your jaw, cradling your head in his hands tenderly as his tongue slid between your lips, reveling in your warmth. Being with you always felt like home to him, it was where he was always meant to be.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your mouth before he pressed his lips against yours again, his fingers gripping your head a little tighter, like he was afraid you would float away.

Your fingers deftly worked on undoing his jeans as he continued to walk you towards the bed. Just as you were about to reach below his waistband, he scooped down to pick you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, clinging to him as he softly placed you both down.

He lifted his head up a fraction to look down at you underneath him, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, looking at you with admiration. His eyes flicked up to the open closet door, the urge to confirm the shoe with the ring in it was still in its rightful place, that you hadn't accidentally found it.

"What is it?" you asked him breathlessly, noticing how his attention had been stolen away. He quickly brought his gaze back down to you with a sly smile.

"Nothin'," he said with a shake of his head, then leaned down to part your lips again with his tongue, curling his fingers along the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with slow, leisurely licks inside your mouth. Your fingers danced over his broad shoulders for a moment before you made your way down his chest and stomach, pausing to gently rake your nails through the coarse hair at the top of his boxers, then plunging down to wrap your hand around his stiff cock.

He groaned softly into your mouth when you gave him a squeeze, his hips shallowly thrusting forward into your hand as you stroked him up and down.

"Slow down," Joel gasped, tearing himself away from your mouth and flexing his fingers around your wrist, stopping you. "Wanna take my time with you tonight," he drawled, taking your hand away and pinning it lightly into the mattress.

"Joel," you whined, lifting your hips up from the bed, frustrated. He tutted and shook his head.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You know I always do," he said huskily, his mouth latching onto your neck. "Wanna take care of you for the rest of my life," he added quietly, his voice muffled against your skin and lost in the sounds of your moans. You tipped your head back, your free hand sliding through his thick curls, fingernails raking against his scalp just the way he likes.

He let go of your hand so he could lift your shirt over your head, followed quickly by your bra. Slowly, his eyes swept over your bare chest, his knuckles brushing against your nipple and watching as it perked up in response, then once he was satisfied, did the same to the other.

"So soft," he muttered to himself before diving down and sucking one into his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking against your nipple before he flattened it against your sensitive skin, licking slow, hot stripes up and down. He lifted his mouth from your skin and blew gently over the wetness his tongue left behind. You gasped at the sensation, your cunt clenching around nothing as he switched sides, giving the same attention to your other breast while his fingers roamed around your waist, then dipped down to squeeze your ass and hips.

You whined his name and tugged on his hair, begging him to touch you, vaguely wondering why he was in the mood to take things so painfully slow, but you were unable to form a coherent thought other than why are my fucking jeans still on?

"Joel, please," you whimpered, pathetically jutting your hips upwards, trying to find friction against him to no avail. He finally released your breast and looked up at you, your chest heaving, hair a mess and your eyes glazed over, already looking completely wrecked. He smirked at the sight and pushed himself up, hovering over you.

"Alright, sweetheart, I'll give you one," he said, much to your relief as his hand came between you to pop open your jeans. He pulled down the zipper and you hooked your thumbs into your belt loops, helping to pull them down as quickly as you could and kicked them off. His eyes glanced down, feeling his cock twitch when saw the dark spot leaking through your panties.

He looped his fingers around the sides of your underwear and pulled them off, then flattened his palms on the insides of your thighs so he could admire the mess he made of you. He ran his middle finger up the length of your seam, testing the waters before dipping inside, marveling at how soaked you were already. His eyes drifted up to your face, mesmerized as you writhed underneath him, your eyes screwed shut and your brows pinched as you focused on his second finger entering your aching cunt.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered, snapping your eyes open just to find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark and filled with want. You rocked your hips forward, trying to make him go faster, but he continued to slowly pump both fingers in and out, in and out, curling his fingertips as he reached inside, brushing against the spot that he knows makes you fall apart.

"That feel better?" he breathed, and you nodded, clutching the sheets in your fist as the fire in your stomach began to burn, the warmth creeping up your chest and neck with every plunge of his fingers. His thumb brushed gently over your clit and you cried out, your body stiffening underneath him as you felt your orgasm steadily approach, your breath coming in short gasps when he finally began to circle the swollen bundle of nerves.

"Faster," you croaked, tipping your head back, but he shook his head and continued his torturous pace.

"It'll feel better this way," he said, and you groaned. "Do you trust me?" he asked, and you brought your head back down so you could look at him again.

"Yes," you whispered, watching as his eyes lit up and a smug grin spread across his face.

"Then let go," he ordered. You inhaled sharply as you felt your walls clench down and your release drip down his fingers, your orgasm slowly ripping through you with a strangled moan. You reached out and grabbed his wrist when it became too much, your body relaxing onto the bed and your eyes fluttering shut.

He slid his fingers out, earning a hiss from you before he popped them into his mouth. You opened your eyes weakly as you watched him suck his fingers, his other hand palming his erection over his jeans and looking down at you panting beneath him, his gaze dark.

"I need more," he murmured as he shimmied down the bed to settle his face between your legs, his hands sliding up your shaky thighs to pin them down to the mattress.

"Wait, Joel," you told him breathlessly. "Too soon, I - it's too much," you said, pulling feebly at his hair. He ignored you, too lost in his own thoughts, the fantasy of making you his and calling you his wife consuming him.

He licked a stripe through your folds, his tongue plunging inside briefly before taking another long, slow drag. You wiggled under his hold with a gasp, your body involuntarily trying to squirm away from overstimulation, but his large hands pinned you down as his tongue probed further inside you.

He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't stop. He felt like a man possessed. He alternated between licking and nibbling at your sensitive cunt, trying to avoid your most sensitive area until he knew you could handle it. Only when he finally felt your legs relax under his palms and heard your breathy moans of encouragement did he venture up to press his tongue flat against your clit. Your fingers tugged at his curls, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with a moan. He always loved it when you pulled on his hair. He sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue slowly, trying to drag out the pleasure as long as possible.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The pressure building inside you too intense. You felt like you were vibrating, Joel's expert hands and mouth making your body pulse and thrum, your breaths shallow and sharp.

You tried to say his name, but it came out as a pathetic whimper instead. The way he lapped at your fluttering cunt was making you dizzy. You were hyper aware of how rough his facial hair felt on your raw skin, a stark contrast to how soft his tongue felt on your folds. The muscles in your stomach began to clench as you felt yourself rocketing towards your second orgasm.

Joel felt you twitch under his forearm and knew you were close. He pressed his face further into you, thrusting his hips into the mattress to find some relief while he sucked and nibbled on your swollen clit, your moans morphing into high pitched cries, fingers frantically grasping and slipping through his curls.

Your back arched off the bed, tears trickling down your cheeks as you fell over the edge, your body jerking underneath him while you screamed his name. His hands clutched your legs, trying to keep himself attached as he worked you through it.

He finally pulled back with a gasp when you managed to writhe away, desperate to give your trembling body a break, completely overwhelmed. You each panted for breath as you stared at one another for a moment, your legs still shaking from the aftershock.

"Christ, Joel," you rasped, your voice hoarse as you wiped your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, running a hand through his hair before wiping his mouth, his gaze softening as he took in your wrecked state. "Can't get enough of you."

"I can see that," you teased, the corners of your mouth turning upwards into a smirk. Your eyes flicked down to his pants, noticing his cock straining painfully against the denim. "Come here," you whispered, beckoning him with your arms. He grinned and quickly pulled his shirt over his head before kicking off his boxers and jeans. He crawled up the bed slowly, hovering over your body. You ran your hands gently over his arms, sending a shiver down his spine, before grasping the back of his neck and pulling him down for a deep kiss. He moaned against your mouth, his lips gently massaging your own while his tongue gave you a taste of your arousal.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking down between your bodies where your hand was directing his cock to your entrance.

"We're gonna find out," you said with a sigh, feeling his thick head notch against you. He pushed forward and you gasped at the familiar sting of being stretched open. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pressed on, slowing giving you every inch of him before bottoming out with a groan of relief.

"Fuck," he whispered, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck while he took a moment to just appreciate the feel of you. You wiggled your hips slightly underneath him to get more comfortable as your body relaxed and adjusted to his size.

"I'll never get tired of that feeling," you murmured into his hair.

"Hope not," he said, lifting his head up with a smirk. He held your gaze as he slowly dragged his cock in and out, in and out until your head tilted back and your eyes slid shut, your lips parted as you gasped softly each time he pushed back inside. He nibbled tenderly at your jaw, fucking you with deep, long strokes while your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer each time.

"God, you feel so good," you moaned, yanking his face up and kissing him messily, your fingertips digging into his skin. He kept up the slow pace, savoring the feeling of just being close and intimate, while each powerful thrust caused tip of his cock to make contact with the most sensitive spot inside you, stoking the flames and pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck, I love you so fuckin' much, you know that?" he gasped, his lips hovering above your open mouth as he gazed down at you, watching your eyes glaze over with each slow drag, in and out. "D'you - shit - d'you see what you do to me? Huh?" He gripped your jaw when he saw your eyes begin to flutter close, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. "Look at me, sweetheart. Need you to look at me," he begged, his climax quickly approaching but he refused to pick up the pace, enjoying the slow way he was fucking you way too much.

"Yes," you whispered, forcing your eyes open to give him what he needed. He nodded, loosening his grip on your jaw and letting his hand fall limply. He looked down, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and coming back out, coated in your slick. He groaned at the sight and glanced back up at you, your gaze still transfixed on his face, just as he asked.

"Can't believe you're really mine," he muttered to himself in disbelief with a small shake of his head, his eyes roaming over your face and chest. "Can't believe I'm the one that gets to fuck you."

"I'm yours," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip as you felt your body begin to tense up, like a band ready to snap.

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully, his wide eyes locking back onto yours. He knew you didn't mean it the way he wanted to hear it, that it was just something you said in the heat of the moment, but he didn't care. He allowed himself to have the fantasy, anyway.

"Just you, only you," you babbled, knowing exactly what he liked to hear. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, fucking into you a little faster now.

"Keep talkin', just like that," he said through gritted teeth, his arms wrapping around your ribs as his hips snapped into you, eliciting a low moan from your throat.

"N-nobody else, all y-yours, only want you," you rambled before the band snapped and your vision went spotty. You cried out and clenched down around him, the intensity of a third orgasm depleting all your energy and almost immediately, your muscles went slack.

"That's right, good girl," Joel said, watching you fall apart under him. "All mine. Mine - mine - mine!" he grunted, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust before pulling out just in time to come all over your stomach, watching in a daze as each burst of his hot spend coated your soft skin.

He collapsed next to you, both struggling to catch your breath. Your arm draped over your eyes and you contemplated falling asleep just like that, not even sure you had the strength to stand anyway. After a moment, he reached over to his nightstand to snatch up a handkerchief, and he gently cleaned you up as your breathing stabilized. Gingerly, he lifted your arm away from your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, then your swollen lips before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Wow," you whispered hoarsely, finally opening your eyes. He chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, wow," he said, laying back down next to you. "That was somethin' else," he added, rubbing his palms roughly over his face.

You rolled onto your side, wincing at the soreness in your legs and hips already, and draped an arm across his body.

"Where did all that come from?" you asked sleepily, nuzzling your face into his chest. He shrugged.

"Don't know," he lied as he rubbed small circles across your back. You hummed, accepting his response without a second thought. His eyes drifted back over to the closet briefly before reaching over and turning off the light, tugging the sheets over your bodies and resuming the circles on your back until he heard your breathing slow, confirming you were asleep.

He stared in the dark at the ceiling, thinking about how and when he should ask you to marry him. He didn't want to take away from Tommy and Maria, so he figured he should put it off for a while, but that didn't stop him from closing his eyes that night and dreaming about what it would be like to be your husband.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

[merchelsea]

took care of my girl - max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen + fem! driver!(charles gf) reader

summary: after a lifechanging turn in your plans, you need to sort things out with charles to be able to get together with your true love, max. things can't always get so hard, can they?

author's note: the so required part two is FINALLY out. a massive thank you to every one that asked for this, i hope you enjoy it! (a HUGE thank you to @stupidandunnecessary for helping me outt)

word count: +1,6k

previous part

last night, charles and you exchanged less than ten words. you wanted to talk to him, but you didn't know how to start, nor how to do it without hurting him.

it was clear that his feelings were not love, maybe some attraction and friendship, but not love. still, you didn't want to hurt him.

you loved max, but you were in a relationship with charles. you weren't quite sure if he would understand, and even if he did, things were a lot more complicated since you were three public figures.

charles woke up to find you, very dizzy and confused, staring at the ceiling of the room in silence. he regained his sences before you thought of moving, and he soon started talking.

"you love him." he stated, looking over at you. startled, you turned to look at him, taken aback by his smiling face. "I- what?" you asked him.

"max. you love him." with that smile planted on his lips, you struggled to articulate something to tell the him. your well-prepared speech for this very moment seemed to vanish, and your words failed you.

"I'm sorry." it was the only thing you could say after having your mouth half-opened for seconds.

"what are you sorry for? loving someone? that is not your fault." he reassured you. "I'm not angry, if that's why your apologizing. I'm happy for you." you couldn't quite comprehend what he was trying to tell you, and he noticed it by the puzzled glances you shot at him.

"I'm happy for you both. I know I've never been a top contestant to the 'best boyfriend' award, quite the contrary. but I also know we both started this relationship out of loneliness." he claimed. it was evident that you weren't the only one preparing for this moment.

"I'm still sorry." you persisted. he chuckled, but you never even gave him a trace of a smile. you couldn't.

"you don't have to be. you deserved to be happy. to be loved in the same intensity that you love someone. that is something only verstappen can do." leclerc understood this situation a whole lot more than you expected him to, and you were starting to wonder if he might have a female max in his life.

"its a fact, even tho it pains me to admit. I could never make you happy the way he does." he added.

"you deserve that too. I know this probably means nothing to you right now, but it's true." you smiled sadly to him, and he shook his head in disagreemeant.

"it will never mean nothing to me. apart from everything, you were my friend first, and I would hate for that to end." you smiled softly at him, the sadness now less evident. you two stood silent for a while, just breathing and thinking. "look, I'm sorry for not being the boyfriend you deserved." he appologized, breaking the akward smile.

he was ready to continue, and he would have done so if you hadn't interrupted. "it's not entirely your fault. we didn't work out because we didn't love each other. period." charles too was sad about how your realtionship was ending, but he was also grateful that none of you had to get hurt before it happened.

"now, I think we are both mature enough to recognize that and begin another chapter." you continued. he nodded softly and you both stood quite looking at the ceiling.

"y/n, you should really go get him. I still have a headache to deal with but I'll try to pack everything and leave before you return home." he advised with a warm smile. he rose from the bed, moving around it to bend over and kiss your forehead.

"you deserve this, mon chéri." he whispered as he exited the room to confront his weary reflection in the bathroom mirror.

after changing, you left the bedroom with the intention of grabbing a bite to eat. however, you decided that sharing a meal with Max might be better, so you sent him a text. within seconds, he responded, as if he had been awaiting your message his whole life.

the truth is, max could deny all he wanted, but he panicked when he got home and realized charles would be sleeping in the same bed as you, and probably trying to get you back. although he now knew that you loved him, it didn't change the fact that you had been with charles while still harboring those feelings, and that thought terrified him.

that's why he left his hotel without even hesitating and met you at a coffee shop near your house.

"how did he react?" he was clearly trying to avoid the subject, and noticing it, you respected his decision and never brought it up. but he has his limits, and he clearly crossed those. he needed to know, and if you were being real, you needed to tell him as well.

"better than I expected." you replied with a smile, which wasn't what he had anticipated. he couldn't decipher whether your smile meant "we broke up" or "we got back together."

"better how?" he asked, not so sure now that he wanted to know.

verstappen didn't think of himself as an anxious person, but when it came to you, he struggled to conceal his apprehension. He yearned to know every detail, and he might have even fainted if you hadn't filled him in.

"well, he told me to come and get you." you were finding that whole situation a lot more funny than you should, max acting all calm when it was so clear that he was freaking out could be ranked on top of the most entertaining things in the world.

he let out a heavy breath that he was holding for god knows why and you finally could see the beautiful smile he was hiding behind the seriousness.

"really?" he asked, smile still playing on his lips. you nodded, smiling too. anyone who passed by would think you two were a couple on the best stage of your relationship, smiles so wide that everyone could see were genuine.

"well you already have me, so…" max points with a joking tone, every word coming out of his mouth being the most truthful. "why do i always want to kiss you in situations or places where i can't?" he throws his head back, frustrated.

"oh why can't you kiss me now?" you asked. cofusion and also frustration kicking in when you realize its not going to be today as well. you begun to think max might be actually afraid to kiss you.

"there's people here. and i know it's a discreet place, but still…" you almost grasped what the dutch meant, were it not for your intense desire for his lips to meet yours. "what? I don't care about the people, you know I don't."

it's true, he knows you never cared about people's opinions. that's why, from the both of you, he was always the one that helped you with everything you thought of putting out to the world. most of it not coming out thanks to him.

"you may not, but I do. you know how this things work and I don't want my gi- your name associated with sleeping around for a seat."

your smile didn't fail on showing up. he could have just said the most horrific thing ever, you hadn't listened. max verstappen calling you 'my girl' was something out of this world for you. you covered your face with your hands as the gleam in your eyes intensified.

"but, you know, you could always take me home." he added, grinning with both his lips and eyes. "let me finish this and we'll go right away." max nodded and took his phone out, pretending to be composed on the outside while feeling like an exuberant child within. he eventually even snapped a few pictures of you to keep for himself and immediately changed his locked screen. he's not familiar with the concept of going slow.

exiting the coffee shop, you and max laughed like a pair of joyful fools, unable to recall precisely what was so amusing. at some point, you found yourselves laughing at each other for no apparent reason. what you both knew for certain was that spending time together was effortless—it brought a profound sense of peace.

as you closed the door behind you, max took your hand and pulled you close to him. his free hand found its place on your cheek, his thumb tenderly caressing it. "after all these years, I can finally kiss you."

the smile on the red bull driver's face emphasized his happiness. although your smile wasn't as broad, your eyes spoke volumes.

in the end, his focus remained on your eyes. for three years, max had gazed into those same brown eyes, yet each time felt like he could continue indefinitely. and, indeed, he could.

from his prespective, it was the greatest view one could have. and he was genuinely sorry for everyone that would never get the chance to do so.

when he finally let go of your eyes, he foccused on your lips, not as mesmerizing, but equally breathtaking.

before he kissed you, you got a good look at his deep ocean blue eyes. had you not been studying them since the day you met their owner, you might have easily lost yourself in their beauty.

you almost cursed max for closing them, but if that meant you got to study his lips too, you could never complain.

once he guided you into the kiss, one of your hands instinctively traveled to the back of his neck, while the other one squeezed his, trying to be sure that this was really happening.

it became evident that your lips were made solely for each other—the way they fit perfectly, moved in harmony, and how max's lips embraced yours as if he had been doing it for a lifetime. every element aligned to create perfection—this is what love felt like.

with max, it felt right. with max, it was love.

taglist: @mehrmonga @yourusername1 @lexiecamposv @electrobutterfly @miakatharinaa @jeconnaismeslimitesus

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (07/10)

To Dragonstone / Lovers

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: the trip to Dragonstone arrives and things between you and Aemond may remain distant or may take a big turn. you are sure of your feelings but does he feel the same way?

word count: 8.4k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

hello!

even i'm surprised that i updated and it didn't take me two or almost three weeks, but here it is!

i'm so happy for the recognition the story is getting, truly, thank you so much beautiful people, i hope you like this chapter a lot too. i'm looking forward to your comments!

After what happened… there was a total change of behavior between you and Aemond.

Even that same day after he didn't drop you off at your house because you told him that Alysanne would be the one to drive you, that night he texted you that there was a party at one of his friend's house.

You didn't reply right away, you just watched the message appear on the top of your screen silently and did nothing.

And after a few minutes he texted you again telling you that if you didn't want to go with him, he was fine with it. And you just texted him back a short; have fun!

But still, you couldn't help but feel completely different, with this strange feeling and a knot in your stomach at having this distance with him.

But he didn't text you again for anything else.

Even also on that same day you saw Helaena, who told you again how sorry she and her mother were still. You also saw Aegon, but he just kept walking, acting completely unconcerned and as if the dinner had never happened.

And now, with things weird and distant with Aemond, today is the trip to Dragonstone.

You assume that you and Aemond will continue to pretend, since there was never a definitive statement where both he and you said you would no longer pretend. But since that night he told you about the party, he and you haven't spoken again.

There's really no plan for the trip. You don't even know if he and you will do this together, as a couple. You just don't know anything.

But you recognize that the two of you made a contract that includes the Dragonstone trip and also ending the fake relationship until graduation. So you prepare yourself despite the circumstances.

Besides you won't be alone, as Alysanne has also signed up for the trip, who just now is keeping you updated on all the things going on in her life as you both drag your respective suitcases along.

"But I don't know if I should say yes to him yet."

You let out a sigh, already feeling tired as you feel the weight of everything in your suitcase. But you can't really blame yourself because it's an all-weekend trip to the beach, so you should have brought everything you needed.

"To who?" you ask with the breath you're gathering, as you tighten your grip on your suitcase.

"Didn't you hear everything I said?" she inquires, "To Cregan."

"Ah… and why don't you know?"

"Well, you know…" she gives you a knowing look, "I don't know, he seems too perfect to me and there must be something wrong with him," she raises her index finger at you, "And he's too popular for my liking."

You frown, still walking as she does, heading toward the buses in the school parking lot that will take you all to Kings Landing port.

"Wait," you say confused, "So he already asked you out?" you look at her slightly surprised, struggling to keep up.

"Yeah," she says casually, "But I don't know."

"Oh come on," you look at her serious, "He's very nice, handsome, funny and a gentleman."

But she grimaces, showing her skepticism.

"Not exactly my type."

You roll your eyes, amused.

Then you both stop behind a line of people waiting to board one of the buses while one of the teachers notes on a list the students' attendance by asking for first and last name, so you have to wait.

"I think you should go out with him," you say, turning to look at her.

"Uhh…" she stares into the void, thoughtfully and doubtfully, "I don't know, bestie."

"He's a good match," you try to convince her, encouraged, "Besides he's already completely crazy about you."

"That's the problem," she sentences, "I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now. It seems better to me that we both just go out, have fun together and nothing else, no strings attached."

"He probably won't refuse the idea," you shrug, "But tell him and don't leave him waiting with his hopes high."

She snorts, gesturing with her hand.

"He's a man. I'm sure he can handle me never giving him an answer."

You let out a laugh.

"Don't be mean, Alysanne."

"What?" she looks at you innocently.

"Come on, you can do better than that."

"No, I don't think so."

You both let out a laugh now and are about to say something else to him, when a third voice interrupts you in conversation.

"Y/N?"

The two turn their heads and walking towards you, it's Aemond, with a somewhat unsure and nervous posture, which is totally unusual for him, but he's still watching you completely attentively.

He's wearing a white t-shirt and a black jacket over it, which makes him look ridiculously good for a common outfit. But what also catches your attention is how he has a silver chain sticking out from around his neck.

And God… why are you suddenly so nervous about being in front of him?

"Do you have a minute?"

You look uncertainly at him and then at Alysanne, having no idea what to say, further increasing your nerves.

"Hum—

"Go," Alysanne says to you, "I'll wait in line for both of us."

"Oh… all right."

You reply, smiling a little in her direction, only to walk over to Aemond and both of you step back a little so you can talk more privately.

And it's at that moment that your heart starts beating like crazy and you bite your lips, crossing your arms over your chest, nervous and a little… embarrassed.

"Listen," he starts to say, in a low and soft voice, "I just want to say that I'm really sorry for the way I reacted the other day," he tells you sincerely, "I'm sure I made you feel uncomfortable and to some extent trapped but believe me that was never my intention. Nor was it my intention for things to get weird between us."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand, don't worry," you nod, trying to hide your nerves and trying to look unconcerned, you too wanting to put this behind you, "I'm sorry too for trying to end it all that way."

"No, it's not okay," he assures you, "I just didn't understand anything and got frustrated," he admits to you gently, "And that wasn't right of me. Now I know how overwhelmed you must have felt with everything that happened."

"I-I guess I got scared and that was the easiest way I could think of to end it all when that wasn't right on my part either. After all… we have a contract—

"The contract thing doesn't matter," he interrupts you with a nonchalant gesture, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "The important thing is that we're both okay and that we don't distance ourselves from each other."

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of relief at hearing his words.

"Yeah, you're right."

"So… everything good?" he asks you completely attentively.

"Yes, all good," you assure, wanting to put any misunderstandings behind you.

He is about to say something when one of his friends calls out to him from the line to board the bus.

"Aemond!"

You both turn your heads and his friend along with the teacher in charge watch him intently from the bus doors.

"I need to see your signed permission form, son," the teacher tells him.

He nods and goes back to watching you.

"I'll see you inside," he says before walking away towards his friend and you nod.

You walk back with Alysanne to the line and watch Aemond just a few feet in front of you, talking to the professor, and then he and his friend carry their bags up to the bottom compartments of the bus, eventually moving up the line.

And God… this is the sense of relief you so desperately needed to finally feel. Knowing that you're going to do this with Aemond, all about Dragonstone, relieves and excites you.

However, you should have assumed that even then things would get weird, because the feeling doesn't last long when you see Floris approach Aemond and the two of them start talking.

At first you don't think anything of it, but then, you see the way Floris approaches and behaves towards him.

A tingle of jealousy begins to bubble deep in your stomach as you watch the two of them talk. You also watch as some students watch the two of them and then you, standing apart, with curious and mischievous looks, surely waiting for the drama.

It's as if everyone knows what Aemond and Floris once were, only to then watch you, the new girlfriend, fade into the background after Floris has returned to school.

And Aemond's behavior towards you comes back to your mind.

He himself told you that he did not expect to see her again, so on another plane and in other circumstances, if Floris had not left the school, you are absolutely sure that Aemond would have required her help, totally.

And this between him and you would never have happened.

And maybe… Aemond is still interested in Floris, just as she seems to be still interested in him. But he can't do anything about it because he already has an agreement with you, he's stuck with you.

This relationship is fake, remember?

Your mind tells you, since for Aemond it's not real, but rather pure convenience, just an act, but for you… it's getting harder and harder to ignore the feelings that arise inside you.

Is it possible that your feelings are more real than you have allowed yourself to believe?

You watch as Aemond seems to want to subtly pull away from her to have his own space, but Floris moves closer again, as if they both share something that only the two of them know and that's why she has the confidence, even though he has a girlfriend, to act that way with him.

Which only makes you more annoyed and jealous.

But finally the line starts to move forward and you decide you won't give it any more thought. What's the point of worrying about something that, in theory, isn't real?

You board the bus behind Alysanne, where everything inside is full of excitement and energy, with students talking and laughing as they settle into their seats.

Then your gaze almost instantly meets Aemond's as you look at the seats, sitting in one of the first seats with the seat next to him empty, watching you intently and with a small smile on his lips, clearly waiting for you.

The temptation to go sit next to him is strong, but you decide to ignore it and keep walking behind Alysanne, passing him. And that instantly makes him react.

"Hey, hey," he quickly stands up and gently takes you by the arm, watching you with his soft gaze reflecting bewilderment, "Where are you going?"

Your nerves dissipate and you try to come up with a good excuse.

"Hum… you know, to sit with Alysanne," you point to your friend.

He follows your gaze but frowns, confused.

"But don't you think we should sit together?"

You stay silent for a few seconds, watching him intently and nervous, trying to come up with a better excuse. But he speaks again, trying to convince you.

"I packed snacks for both of us on the way and thought maybe we could watch a movie or something."

"Maybe on the way back," you say with an apologetic look, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

And he frowns slightly, his gaze reflecting a mixture of disappointment and confusion as he tries to understand your behavior.

The two of you a few moments ago spoke, the two of you apologized to each other and you especially said that everything was okay or not? That's what keeps him confused, not understanding why the two of you are suddenly continuing this distancing, noticing your efforts to pull away from him.

"Come on," he insists, "Let Cregan sit with her."

"I'm sorry, Aemond," you say, "But I promised her I'd sit with her."

He seems to want to argue back, but you waste no more time and finally walk past him, moving away from him straight toward Alysanne in one of the seats almost at the back.

Aemond with a serious look sighs resignedly, feeling the disappointment inside, confused and with disillusion, not really understanding anything.

And when you arrive together with Alysanne, just as you take your seat, you look back to where Aemond is with a worried look and at that moment Floris appears, stopping in front of him with a small sweet smile on her lips.

"Will someone sit here?" she asks politely even though she already knows the answer, her tone with a familiarity that makes you stir in your seat.

Aemond turns his gaze back to you with a mixed expression of seriousness and disappointment before answering Floris.

"No," he replies with some annoyance, dropping back into his seat with a droopy attitude.

Floris complacently takes a seat next to him and you watch everything from afar, telling yourself that this is all a bad idea, with a swirl of emotions all over you.

So all the way to King's Landing port begins, where you distract yourself listening to music and avoid looking towards the seats where Aemond is with Floris.

At all times you feel this uncertainty and this unpleasant feeling that does not leave you in peace, even makes you feel sad, but Alysanne by your side manages to distract you in some moments.

Until you finally arrive at the port and in organized groups, the teachers make sure that all the students board the ferry that goes directly to Dragonstone.

Everyone around you starts taking pictures and videos of the wonderful view the ferry offers of Blackwater Bay, excited to get to Dragonstone.

And you start looking for Aemond with your eyes, finding him leaning on the ferry's railing with one of his friends next to him, both talking, but he has a more thoughtful expression as he gazes out at the ocean.

Despite being surrounded by people and his friends especially, he is distant. And you know he's like this because of you.

For one reason he asked to talk to you and clear up what happened between the two of you. You assured him that everything was fine and then pushed him away.

But can you really blame yourself?

You're fucking scared.

And for a reason Floris acts that way with him, because whatever there once was between the two of them, it's not over yet, you can feel it. And you have no right to reproach him for that because this is not real.

Still… it's better for you to start slowly pulling away from him and put on a show when it's really necessary. But how will you be able to do this together when things are like this?

That's why the uncomfortable feeling on the bus persists and Alysanne tries to distract you by taking pictures of the view, a selfie of the two of you together or by herself.

But despite these efforts, you can't stop thinking about Aemond and watching him from time to time.

Until the ferry finally docks at Dragonstone Island and the students begin to walk ashore with their suitcases in hand, full of excitement and high expectations for what awaits them this year on site.

And since you have never visited Dragonstone before, you watch in complete awe and amazement as the majestic and imposing modern castle stands before you almost on the water's edge.

It looks like a living museum, offering the relics of Old Valyria and its history, paying homage to the ancient house Valyria, a royal family that once ruled Westeros with the legend of having tamed dragons in their Reign.

The entire castle is made of stone, as well as its surroundings and all it has to offer.

And once inside, everything is majestically structured and spacious, with architecture of royalty, preserving that touch and the one that many decades ago a royal and powerful family lived here.

With a male guide, who is also chaperon of this 'excursion', he welcomes all the students and begins to guide them through the main corridors of the castle.

You are amazed to see the numerous display cases with ancient swords that had forged the history of the Valyrian house, as well as other possessions, be they wardrobes or jewelry of gold, silver and other precious stones.

There are also portraits of the ancient Kings and Queens who had ruled, as well as portraits of princes and princesses with the name, date of birth and date of death.

Being your first time in this place, it is obvious that you are excited compared to other students who have come here before and just want to have fun.

But you sense how the atmosphere is steeped in history and mystery. So you can't wait to learn more about this history that was in an ancient and legendary world.

"For those who don't already know, there are various activities you can do during your stay on the island," says the guide man, "You can enjoy the beach and swim in our crystal clear waters, but you can also dive with professional instructors to explore the coral reefs and marine life, as well as we also offer surfing lessons for beginners."

"I want to try surfing," Alysanne says next to you, without both of them letting up, and you watch her in surprise.

"Really?"

"I don't plan to dive, I feel like I'll go crazy with claustrophobia with so much suit and gear on me, not to mention you can't talk," she tells you with a grimace, "And swimming is so boring. I want something more exciting."

"And you can handle that?"

"Please, I can handle anything," she says with a certain superiority, making you laugh, "And what do you plan to do? Obviously not surf but then what?"

"Hum…" you think about it for a moment, "I don't know, maybe I'll visit the huge library and learn more about the history of this place and the whole Valyrian family."

Alysanne looks at you completely expectantly and showing you how much your answers have bored her.

"Are you serious?"

"We also offer a tour of our small aquarium located in the depths of the castle, where you can see a variety of fish and sea creatures," he man goes on to mention, "And lastly, we offer rides on our yachts and scooters along the coast, there are also paddle boarding lessons along our peaceful canals that meander through the island."

You look back at Alysanne beside you.

"Or maybe I'll join the paddling classes," you say with a shrug.

But that only makes Alysanne look at you like you're a hopeless case, sigh, and continue moving on, not telling you any more about your plans or she's afraid it will make you feel bad.

And you let out a little laugh, since of course you also want to enjoy the beach and also want a yacht ride.

And as all the students continue to move forward and you along with them, you still feel the tension between you and Aemond, who is moving a few meters ahead of you with his friends.

Despite the beauty and excitement of Dragonstone, still this uneasiness continues to weigh on your being.

First night at Dragonstone and you've already been left alone.

Alysanne stated that she wanted to enjoy the luxurious bathtub in the room to immerse herself in a relaxing spa experience, so that's what she's doing now before starting the rough activities tomorrow.

And meanwhile you're stealing snacks from the huge kitchen since you've prepared one night of movies for yourself, which isn't a bad plan.

So with your pajamas on, you go back to the room, thankful that you didn't have any awkward encounters with anyone. In fact you were hoping to run into him, but that hasn't happened and you have no idea where he must be.

So with your snacks in hand and in the huge hallway where your room is located, you struggle a bit to open your door with your hands full, when someone enters the same hallway where you are.

"Hey Y/N."

You turn your head and meet Cregan, causing you to place a smile on your face in his direction.

"Hey Cregan."

He watches you with a small amused smile.

"Do you need help?"

"Well, I-I…" you try one more time, but everything is about to fall out of your hands, "Yeah," you finally agree.

He helps you with your snacks and also opens the door for you, then watches you curiously.

"Are you preparing one night of snacks and probably watching movies with Alysanne?"

"No," you reply laughing softly, "No, I—

"Ah, so you're going with Aemond to the hot tub," he interrupts you in a casual tone, assuming.

Confused by that revelation, you try to process the information, but before you can even pretend and react, which you really don't and remain silent like a fool, he notices and looks at you slightly confused.

"Oh, well... on my way here saw him alone in the hot tub and thought you were going with him."

And just then it happens.

Something snaps inside you.

An overwhelming sense of need overwhelms you from head to toe, you can't help it and you can't take it anymore.

You need to talk to someone about the truth and release everything you've been accumulating these past few days. But you know that if you do that, you would be breaking a contract rule.

But the thought of still holding all this in and not being able to talk to anyone about what's really going on is unbearable.

Alysanne would freak out and you have no one else to talk to. It's not like you have a lot of friends. So thinking hard, you quickly map out a plan in your mind and decide to confide in Cregan.

"Do you have a moment?" you ask with a lump in your throat.

Cregan gets confused and looks hesitant.

"Well, I—

"Alysanne is relaxing in the tub, she won't be out of there for a while and I really need to talk to someone about this," you plead.

And that's enough for Cregan to walk into the room behind you as he sees your face like you're about to explode and you tell him everything.

And God, it's a complete relief to be able to speak freely, without the pressure of keeping up the farce.

And you start by explaining to him why you decided to fake a relationship, and then tell him these feelings that you can't ignore anymore, as well as explaining everything you're feeling about Floris and how things are between you and Aemond.

And by this point, Cregan is very comfortable sitting on your bed, eating from your snacks while you wander around your room talking freely about everything that comes to your mind and he listens attentively.

"I'm completely crazy, aren't I?"

You watch him completely frustrated and looking for support, as the ideas and thoughts keep coming uncontrollably into your mind.

"I mean, this is fake," you clarify, waving your hands as you speak, "This wasn't supposed to happen, he just asked me for help and I asked for something in return to accept. And he clearly doesn't feel the same way I do."

You look at him in exasperation, worried.

"And I know I acted wrong with him this morning on the bus but—" you sigh, "You should have seen how he reacted when he saw Floris at school again. This whole thing with Aemond probably wouldn't have happened if Floris hadn't left school, it's obvious there's still something between the two of them and that makes me feel… so upset and so jealous when I shouldn't!" you exclaim frustrated, "And I find it best to just stay away from him so I can stop feeling all this and my big mouth won't even think of telling him how I really feel."

"Y/N—

"I'm right, right?" you don't let him speak, watching him completely intently and worriedly, "I'm crazy."

Cregan smiles softly in your direction in an attempt to comfort you and shakes his head, as he takes another bite of a chocolate bread.

"No, not at all," he replies sincerely, "You're just being honest with yourself and me."

You stop in front of him, fiddling nervously with the fingers of your hands.

"I had to blurt it out," you say dejectedly, "I'm so confused. And you have to promise not to tell anyone," you tell him instantly.

"I promise," he tells you instantly too, nodding.

"So what do you think?"

He lets out a long breath before answering, watching you calmly and quietly, preparing in his mind what he will tell you next, while you wait desperately and anxiously.

"Listen, I think it doesn't matter that the two of you have been pretending all this time, but Aemond likes you, a lot."

He assures you and your heart leaps, parting your lips and watching him completely intently.

"I've seen the way he stares at you—

"Have you already forgotten that all this time we've been pretending?" you interrupt him in exasperation.

"And you think you can fake a look of love if he's not really in love?" he asks you, expectantly.

You let out a sigh, bringing a hand to your forehead, massaging your temples.

"That doesn't matter, I feel he still has feelings for Floris and I'm just another fool who fell in love with Aemond Targaryen," you look at him hopelessly, "And if you think about it, it's embarrassing."

"Okay, let's analyze the facts," he says confidently, incorporating himself better on the bed, "The fake relationship was his idea, you set most of the important rules and you're the one who wants to end the relationship, but you're here locked in your room preparing a movie night for yourself alone while he's waiting for you in the hot tub," he tells you condescendingly while pointing at the door with his thumb.

You watch him completely attentively, almost hesitant and unsure, thinking about it.

"And if you think about it precisely, yes, Aemond and Floris had something but it was nothing serious, he later went back to Alys and now that he erased Alys from his life, there is you and no one else," he explains to you, "Floris' return means nothing because he could have told you that it was better to end the fake relationship when he saw her again, but he didn't tell you anything, it was you," he assures you, "And yes, maybe you fell in love first, but eventually he also fell in love with you and harder."

Cregan's every word hits you like a wave of revelation, making you rethink your perceptions and doubts.

Maybe, in the midst of all this confusion, conflict and your doubts, Cregan is right.

Maybe Aemond really is in love with you, despite the fake relationship, Alys and Floris… maybe he is and the thought is as overwhelming as it is comforting.

If so… then what will happen?

You don't know but wanting to find out excites and scares you at the same time.

"Do you think he's waiting for me in the hot tub?" is the only question you can utter out of the thousands in your mind, watching him hopefully.

"Of course," he gives you an obvious look.

So you waste no time.

You leave on your pajamas of silk shorts with a tank top of the same fabric and throw a coat on over them. It's not really cold but the air here on the island is frosty enough for you.

And as you step outside a part of the castle where the hot tub is located, with your heartbeat echoing in your ears, you are greeted by a cool, salty breeze that caresses your skin.

The hot tub area is illuminated by a series of lights hanging from the ends of the trees, creating a calm and relaxing atmosphere. But what stands out the most is the blue light of the hot tub.

And there you see him.

You focus on the lone figure of Aemond as you move forward, who has his back to you, gazing off into the horizon, thoughtful while also distracted by the bubbles the hot tub is making around him.

You pause for a moment, watching him from a distance, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your chest.

The silver chain around his neck shines with a soft glow from the blue light, adding a touch of mystery to his profile, just as his white skin glows slightly from the glint of water on his skin.

The sound of the hot tub echoes in place, as well as the ocean waves outside and with nerves blocking your mind, you finally approach him, with quiet determination.

"Mind if I join you?"

You say to him with some insecurity and in a soft tone, hugging yourself, nervous and attentive.

Aemond turns his head towards you and his eye meets yours.

And if his gaze reflected surprise, he quickly turns back to an unexpressive face and without saying absolutely nothing to you, where you also tried to smile a little at him, he turns his gaze back to the front.

And you don't let it get to you, at least not yet.

"What? Now you're going to ignore me?"

And thankfully that's enough to make him talk to you. At least a little bit.

"Oh now I'm the one ignoring you?" he retorts bitterly, without even looking at you, "That's funny."

And he continues to turn his back on you, without saying anything else, to which you let out a long breath and without giving up yet, thinking about what Cregan told you and also considering your feelings, you approach him.

With hesitant steps, you climb the steps leading to the entrance of the hot tub and approach the edge, feeling the warmth of the water and the gentle steam rising in the air.

Feeling Aemond's gaze on you, you take a seat on the edge and dip your feet into the water as you return his gaze, which makes your heart pound in your chest again.

He is completely beautiful.

And the words don't come out of your mouth as you are hypnotized for a moment watching the flashes of light on his serene face with his flawless skin and those features that make him look so handsome.

But you finally focus.

"Well, I'm sorry this is my first trip here and I have no idea how to do the activities when you didn't even offer to guide me," you foolishly try to justify yourself.

"Oh and now I'm supposed to guide you after you ignored me on the bus?" he inquires.

You feel the blood rise to your cheeks and look away for a moment, embarrassed.

"Well, I thought I should do you a favor," you admit sheepishly, not really knowing what to say.

And you just had to say that?

Your mind reproaches you.

"Favor?" he repeats in confusion, "What favor?"

"It's obvious Floris is still interested in you," you explain, "And you and she had a thing in the past so was it better for her to sit down with you or not?"

Fucking fool.

Your mind keeps reproaching you, but you don't know why you had to say that either!

And you know it was really bad as Aemond makes a gesture of exasperation on his face and shakes his head as he averts his gaze from you and stretches out both arms to the edge of the hot tub.

"You know?" he starts to say in a frustration-laden tone of voice, watching you "For being such a good student… you can be really dumb sometimes."

You frown, bewildered by his words.

"What?"

"I wanted to sit with you, Y/N," he tells you in exasperation, wanting to make you understand, "Not with Floris or anyone else, just you," he says, his tone softening as he looks at you intently.

Oh.

Yes, oh.

Now you feel stupid and of course you should feel exactly that way.

And as Aemond's words echo in your mind, you feel a mixture of emotions inside you.

On the one hand, a sense of relief and joy finds its way into your chest as you hear his sincere words and know that he wanted to be with you. But you are also overcome with a slight embarrassment at your initial lack of understanding.

And because of the same nerves and how stupid you still feel, a soft laugh escapes your lips at his confession.

"So, Floris…

You let the words float in the air, as you watch him with that insecurity in your gaze.

"Floris was just a one time thing in the past. She doesn't interest me anymore," he assures you gently and firmly, completely honest.

You both remain silent for a moment, only hearing the bubbling of the hot tub, where you mostly admire how the blue light reflects all over his body and face, looking so fucking good.

Not to mention he has no shirt on.

You can feel the electricity in the air as he watches you with his face softer compared to a few moments ago, there's also almost adoration and hope, all just the same way you're watching him.

Then you break the silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't sit with you on the bus," you say sincerely.

And he makes a nonchalant gesture with his hand.

"It's all right."

And once again, silence envelops you as you both sink into the intimate and complicit atmosphere that surrounds you.

Then once everything has been 'cleared up' somehow, you sit up and take off your coat, to begin soaking in the hot tub along with him, causing him to watch you attentively and in confusion.

"You're going in your sleeping clothes?" he asks in a doubtful tone.

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," you reply, stopping in front of him and allowing yourself to enjoy the shared quiet and intimacy along with the warmth of the water.

You watch as his gaze sweeps over your body, mostly focused on watching the way the water envelops you in just the same way he does and you don't stop, as you position yourself right in front of him, your face inches from his.

And already starting to feel a little embarrassed by his burning gaze on you, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

"You know, I've never seen you without that chain," you say, feeling your knees bump against his thighs.

He smiles slowly, showing off his perfect aligned white teeth, marking each cheek with his beautiful dimples, having a knowing glint in his eye that is reflected as he inspects your face.

"It's part of me," he replies, in a soft, deep, husky voice than usual that sends shivers down your spine, "But I think I might make an exception tonight."

And before you can fully comprehend his words, you feel Aemond's hand on your thigh from under the water, sending a surge of electricity through your body.

Surprised, he makes you sit on his lap, while his other hand rests on your waist, drawing you to him gently but with remarkable determination, surprising you and making you feel instantly nervous.

You place your hands on his shoulders, seeking stability, as you watch him with your parted lips, seeing that the space between the two of you no longer exists.

The intensity of his gaze and the softness of his face take your breath away for an instant, reminding you why you are drawn to him in the first place. And a mix of emotions overwhelm you as you realize how much you've been longing for this moment.

Then you both shorten the little distance that separates you and finally you feel the sweet contact.

With no one around, no one else's eyes on you, just the two of you alone here, you kiss.

A slow and deep kiss, where you feel Aemond's lips soft and warm against yours, making you let yourself go and move closer to him if possible, taking one of your hands to caress his cheek.

And his body responds to your caresses, pulling you closer towards him as if he can't get enough, settling better into his lap and tilting his head to the side, deepening the kiss, where his hands run down your back, causing his touch to cause electric currents through your body.

Then you both pull away a little with a wet sound from their lips and you watch him directly into his eye, unable to believe this is actually happening, where Aemond breathes through his mouth and brings one of his hands up to your cheek, watching you intently and with that lazy smile.

"What?

With a small smile on your lips, you shake your head.

"Nothing," you reply in a soft tone and that makes him smile a little more, starting to trace your cheek with his fingers and your face with his gaze.

"You don't know what you're doing to me, love," he murmurs against your lips, his voice hoarse, "The way you make me feel… it's indescribable."

His words wash over you like a comforting warm wave, spreading throughout your chest and causing a sensation to settle in your lower abdomen.

His hand on your thigh slides all over your skin, producing shivers as he pulls you even closer and your whole body trembles slightly from the intensity in his desire as he shortens the distance again and his lips seek yours with a hunger that matches what you are feeling.

And in that moment there is no doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming certainty of the connection that exists between the two of you. And just like him, you let your actions speak for you and everything you are feeling right now.

You deepen the kiss, as you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses and your fingers gently glide over the skin of his face and run along the contours of his jaw.

"This wasn't in the contract," you murmur against his lips, agitated.

"No, it wasn't," he tells you just as agitated as you are, catching your lips with his again.

Then your other hand comes down on his bare chest, tracing his muscles and feeling the heat of his skin against yours, sending an electric shock that ignites a burning, fierce fire throughout his body.

Aemond moans against your lips and brings one of his hands to the back of your neck, tilting his head and holding you exactly where he wants you, while his other hand travels between the skin of your thighs and your lower back.

Then you decide to move on top of him and his breath hitches as he feels your movement and you too feel a tingle in your crotch.

Both he and you can feel the tension grow between the two of you and suddenly it is as if the world has vanished, existing only him and you with this moment of pure connection and desire.

And with each caress, you feel yourself falling more and more under the spell, lost in the intoxicating, indulgent pleasure you begin to experience. And with his heart beginning to pound, his caresses become more daring and urgent.

You too move with more purpose on top of him, beginning to feel a bulge grow just below your nerve center that caresses him and makes you feel so good.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks against your lips.

"Please don't," you sentence, kissing him again.

You gasp against his lips and you both begin to gasp, feeling Aemond's chest rise and fall every instant, just like yours. And with the warm, comforting water enveloping you both it only makes it feel better.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling it away from his forehead to lean into him and continue kissing him as you continue to roll your hips on top of him, when he pulls away from you and begins to leave a trail of wet kisses from your cheek and down to your neck.

All your skin bristles and you let your head fall back, giving him more accessibility.

"Fuck," he murmurs hoarsely into the side of your neck.

And you lean into him again, kissing him, wanting to feel the caress of his lips on top of yours.

But then when the need and desire begins to build to a pace where Aemond thinks he won't be able to stop afterward, he decides to stop right there, pulling away from your lips and making you stop moving.

"Wait," he says to you in a low, husky tone, breathing through his mouth.

You look at him slightly confused, just as agitated as he is.

"What's wrong?" you say with your heart pounding in your chest as you take a deep breath.

He tries to catch his breath, closing his eye and resting his forehead against yours, still holding you above him.

"We can't," he says with some frustration.

You force yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to feel confusion and uncertainty invade you, watching him intently.

"Why not?" you ask in a whisper, still leaning into him.

He lets out a long breath through his nostrils, clearly fighting against the hardness beneath his shorts and keeping you on top of him in a way where you don't touch him or he'll go completely insane.

But his silence only makes you worry and think things that really aren't.

"Or is it that you don't want to do it with me?" you ask fearfully and with embarrassment starting to creep up on you.

"What?" he quickly looks at you, "No, no, that's not what I mean, of course I want to do it with you," he answers you quickly and completely honest, "But we can't do it here."

He points his gaze around you, to again look only at you with that intensity, revealing a mixture of his desires and his inner conflicts.

Oh.

A sense of relief washes over you as you realize it's not rejection, but concern for the circumstances.

"Ah… right," you say with a mixture of embarrassment and relief, also briefly glancing around you, "Sorry, I hadn't thought of that."

Aemond looks at you tenderly, his gaze softening with a mixture of desire, vulnerability, and what you think is love reflecting in its depths, then pulling your face towards him again.

"It's okay, we'll find another time," he assures you, his tone comforting.

You smile softly as you place your hands on both of his cheeks and he kisses you deeply again, causing you to melt into his arms and let yourself be completely carried away.

You feel embarrassed by your misunderstanding, but also grateful for his concern and consideration.

And you don't know exactly how long you both lasted inside the hot tub, just kissing and nothing more, occasionally playing with the bubbles, sharing an intimate and special moment together.

"I missed you," he murmurs against your lips, leaving a soft kiss that makes you smile.

"Me too," you confess, kissing him again.

And though desire still burns between the two of you, you both know it's best to wait and save that moment for a more private and suitable place.

You still don't know what the fuck happened.

But what you do know is that you went to sleep with a silly smile on your lips and at dawn, you put the same silly smile back on your lips as you remembered everything that happened.

However, surprise and fear also flooded you after remembering exactly everything you and Aemond did.

The two of you were going to have sex.

You were going to have sex with him in a hot tub.

You didn't even care about anything, the fact that they were out in the open, the fact that you weren't physically or mentally ready or even the fact that you and he weren't even real boyfriend and girlfriend.

But you wanted to do it, God, you wanted it and badly.

He was even the one who had to stop everything when on another plane, you probably would have done it, but no. You weren't thinking, you were completely drunk with pleasure and now shame is the only thing you feel all over your body.

You can't even tell Alysanne because of the shame and because you know she won't stop laughing at you. You even plan not to leave the room to avoid running into him. But Alysanne makes you go with her to her first surfing lesson.

And ready for the day as you walk with her down the stairs to the main lobby, you think about how if things with Aemond were already weird and awkward before that moment, now the two of you won't even be able to see each other's eyes.

But to your surprise, that's not what happens.

There are several students and teachers already in the lobby when you see his characteristic silver hair, but before you can react and even think, Aemond walks towards you with a small smile as soon as he sees you and kisses you, surprising you since you definitely didn't expect that.

And of course you noticed the look Cregan gave you both, but more to you specifically, but you just told him with your look that you will talk to him about everything later.

And so you start your activities in Dragonstone, with Aemond.

Of course you first keep Alysanne company in her surfing lessons and after she is totally focused on that, you and Aemond spend time together.

Under the golden sun, painting the horizon with warm hues and golden sparkles on the ocean waves, you both enjoy a walk along the shore of the beach, enjoying the salty air and the sea breeze that envelops you.

You talk about everything and about almost nothing at the same time, him being the first one to dare to hold your hand while you enjoy your little walk, making the blood rise to your cheeks and you enjoy like every teenage girl in love these little moments.

Then you both play a game of volleyball, where you both laugh and have fun as you immerse yourselves in the game.

And clearly from running around so much in the intense sun and getting almost sweaty, you get the idea that you both should swim a bit and surprisingly Aemond doesn't refuse the idea, even though he doesn't know how to swim, but you offer to teach him.

In a gray two-piece bikini, you lead him out into the waves, explaining how to move in the water and breathe properly, causing him to begin to gain confidence and enjoy the sensation of being carried by the waves.

But of course after that would come the laughter and playfulness, both laughing and talking while enjoying the sun and the salt water.

And in that moment, the fun turned into an intimate moment as Aemond holds you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. There is a silent intention in his gaze as he touches your skin with his burning hand and you don't pull away, on the contrary, you lean towards him.

You wrap your legs around his torso and his lips press against yours in a deep kiss, losing themselves to each other in the middle of the sea.

And when you both separate, you look at each other with a mixture of shyness and affection, while Aemond places a damp lock behind your ear, feeling a pleasant sensation that he can't quite describe envelop him, especially at the moment when you again leave a soft, tender kiss on his lips.

And with beaming smiles on your faces, you both get out of the water and go upstairs to your rooms to bathe and change your clothes.

But then the two of you meet again and he accompanies you to explore the castle together, marveling at the ancient relics and all the history that surrounds the place.

He also accompanies you to the library to take some photos and to the roof terraces where you get magnificent views of the whole island.

And in the castle's aquarium, you both find yourselves surrounded by fascinating sea creatures, sharing tender moments together as you watch the fish swim around.

The sea creatures seem to dance in the water, their bright colors and movements mesmerizing you as you walk among the tanks.

And as you both move through the exhibits, Aemond more than anything couldn't resist hugging and kissing you, expressing his affection in every gesture and you of course didn't mind.

"You are beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, watching you with that bright glint in his eye as he watches the reflection of the sun and water on your face, creating an aura of serenity and beauty around him.

The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you smile shyly, feeling so silly.

"You are beautiful too, Aemond Targaryen."

You lean towards him and leave another soft kiss on his lips that he reciprocates instantly, taking you by the waist and bringing you completely closer to him, wanting to keep touching and kissing you.

But you both continue the little tour holding hands, where you also take pictures together and of everything you see around you, wanting to capture these moments.

And even though he and you haven't really talked about anything, this doesn't feel like you're both pretending. This feels real and you like the way it feels when you are with him, being completely honest and genuine with your feelings.

Then the day goes on as normal and as expected, after doing all the educational activities in a certain way, it's time for the party.

"There will be my friends, Cregan, my sister and well, Alysanne if she wants to come too," Aemond tells you as you both head towards your rooms.

"I'll convince her to go," you assure him.

"Okay, I'll see you in fifteen minutes then."

"All right," you smile at him.

He leaves down a different hallway from the one you're heading down since each of your rooms are separate and you're focused on getting ready for this party.

You don't know how, but he and his friends have arranged to take a yacht for the night. Obviously they are not going to ride around in it with the night sky, but apparently they have everything ready for everyone to drink and enjoy a while.

Fortunately you convince Alysanne and the three of you soon arrive at the yacht that is stranded in the west harbor of the island, where Aemond's friends are already there, getting everything ready.

Then the music plays, the LED lights turn on and the drinks begin to be served.

Sitting on Aemond's lap, you didn't think you'd have as good a time as you're having now, laughing and talking to everyone, occasionally hugging and kissing him.

And fortunately nothing unfortunate or unpleasant happens, there is only the company of your friends and you enjoy Aemond's presence, clinging to him at every opportunity, hugging him and singing some songs with him like everyone else, having a good time.

And fortunately in the following days there is no activity you don't do with Aemond, even now if you go for a yacht ride, where you can perfectly see some students and also Alysanne practicing surfing.

You also cheer up with the scooter ride, just like him, completely enjoying the moment and the experience.

And you honestly don't want any of it to end.

You want everything to continue to be perfect.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

first off, happy happy birthday to you!!!! Thank you for spoiling us on your birthday.

That being said, my heart is feeling angsty so I wanna request the prompt "Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't." for a fem reader x Kid (NSFW)!

Again, happy birthday lovely! :3

Hello! @limitlesstildil thank you sooo much for your birthday wishes and for your awesome prompt! Now, I've taken some liberties with it, but I do hope you don't mind! It's now a three part fic of Highlander!Kid, sharing the spotlight with another prompt (to be seen in the last chapter). The NSFW part was pushed forward too, okay? I hope this is still okay! Thank you so much for participating! ❤️

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4969

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Okay... it's finally here! I coudn't hold out any longer. It turned out to be 16k words, so I've divided it in three (not equal parts because the splitting would be weird, obviously). I edited the first part and plan on editing the rest soon. I will have the entire fic out by the end of the week! Gosh... I'm very proud of this one, I do hope you enjoy, let me know!

Part 1 of 3

|Masterlist| | |Part 2| | |Part 3|

“I don't need a guard!” Your angered cry echoes down the halls of the keep, but the stationed guards at the entrance barely even flinch at your outburst since it’s a regular occurrence. 

You have been at odds with your father, the laird, since early morning and, as night approaches fast, he’s tired of arguing with you. But no matter how much you argue like a wild thing, plead as if he were a deity or present your arguments politely as a lady, he doesn’t budge.

“You need a guard!” Your father says with a firm growl of your name. “We are at war and you're an easy target, daughter!” You scoff, outraged at the insinuation. You might be a lady, but you know how to defend yourself and you’re a feisty creature. “I don't want to hear any more of what you have to say! Out with you! You'll meet your guard later.”

With a screech so loud it could make a banshee blush in embarrassment, you leave the chamber, stamping your feet like a bratty child, feeling much like one since, apparently, you need nannying. And, well, if you’re to be nannied like a baby, you might as well act like one, while you still can.

Passing by the kitchen, you grab a hemp sack and fill it with anything you can get your hands on: bread, fruit, salted meat and grains. It weighs like hell but you couldn't care less. You have a point to prove. 

You don’t need a guard. You can handle yourself.

Night falls quickly and you use the waning light of the sickle moon to guide your steps, the same ones you’ve taken since you were a child. The only difference is that now you’re facing wartime and the streets aren’t as safe as they used to be.

But the people need you and you won’t sit idly by while children starve.

-*-

He was supposed to introduce himself to you as soon as he arrived at the keep, but Kid likes to observe first, so he stuck to the shadows. Despite being big, bulky and muscular, he can move like one. When Kid spots you leaving the keep just as the moon appears in the sky, he realises you're going to be trouble. 

Kid’s sick and tired of being a nursemaid to stuck-up, entitled ladies who think they alone rule the world. Yet, here he is again, his body too broken to be a proper warrior, but not broken enough to be able to retire peacefully. 

With a heavy sigh and a curse, Kid follows you into town, all the while realising just how reckless you’re being with your actions. Your father hired him because of the war, which means nowhere is safe. Especially after nightfall. Especially if you’re a noble lady.

But you don’t seem to care.

He follows you around town while you knock on doors, delivering food and even some jewellery. He hasn’t even spoken to you and your actions are already intriguing him. He’s never met a noble lady who would willingly part with jewels, let alone give them to townspeople. 

Yet, he doesn’t let that cloud his judgement. You think you’re being inconspicuous as you parade around town wearing your expensive velvet cape, with an air about you that clearly states you’re regal. No town girl would have such perfectly braided hair, and fair skin, poised grace, and natural beauty, as well as an elegance to your movements. You’re a dead giveaway for who you are.

And that’s dangerous in these streets.

Tutting silently, Kid watches as you traverse a dark alleyway and, immediately, a group of brigands follows you, their eyes already glinting with greed and something else. Kid approaches, ready to intervene as he’s being paid to do. What he doesn’t expect, however, is the way you pull out two daggers from your thighs and start fending them off.

A grin pulls at the corner of his mouth as he realises you aren’t as defenceless as he thought you to be.

Slicing your way through the brigands, you manage to cut one on the arm and another across his torso, which only makes them more enraged, but Kid nods approvingly from the shadows. There’s more to you than just a pretty face. 

Then you make a mistake. You lose sight of the largest man in the group and he gets behind you, locking your arms and incapacitating you immediately. With a grunt, Kid pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and grips his Lochaber axe with his good arm. Time to intervene.

It takes only the blink of an eye for him to reach you. His weak arm slams a punch to the jugular of the man pinning you, causing him to let go and fall to his knees, gasping for air. Pivoting, Kid slices another brigand with a swing of his long axe, his guts splashing to the floor with a sickening sound as the man screams himself into shock. With a thrust of the weapon, Kid immediately kills the remaining brigand by piercing his neck. 

He didn’t even break a sweat. 

“I’m not scared of you!” You say, breathing hard, pants escaping your parted lips and Kid can clearly see your fists trembling as you grip the handle of your blade. You mistook him for another brigand. Smirking, Kid takes one step forward and you gasp. “Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is firmer now, a hint of aggression in your words. Good. 

He still takes another step, and with a swing of the axe, he lunges. You shriek and tense up but open your eyes as soon as you hear another sickening slice and the unmistakable gargle of a man drowning in his own blood. Kid sliced the neck of the brigand who had pinned you at the beginning of the skirmish and was getting ready to run away.

“I said back away!” You lunge, place your foot wrong and throw your weight like an amateur. Kid scoffs and easily disarms you, raising an eyebrow as if asking if that’s all you’ve got. You huff and puff like a wild beast and lunge empty-handed this time, landing a punch on his chest which he barely feels. He chuckles again and you seethe, swinging again, trying to hit his jaw, but this time he stops your mid-air, twisting your body and pinning your arm behind your back.

“Yer swingin’ like ye’ve never thrown a proper punch, lass.”

-*-

You blush from the tips of your ears to your flaming cheeks as the man twists your arm further, making you wince. Who is he? He easily took down the brigands who attacked you, but he doesn’t look like a common thief. He moves like a warrior, even though his left arm seems slower and heavier. 

“Let me go!” You hiss, feeling his taut muscles press against your back.

“Ye did alright with the daggers, but there’s a lot to be said about yer footwork. Also…” His large, calloused hand reaches out as he pulls the hood of your cloak down, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck. “If yer gonna walk the streets of a war-torn town at night, ya better do it dressin’ like a commoner, no’ a noble, aye, lass?”

The nerve!

“Who are you, trying to tell me what to do? Let me go, right now!” He twists your arm more, and your hiss turns into a groan, but you refuse to scream in pain. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction, though it almost feels like your arm is about to fall out of its socket. 

“Who am I?” He chuckles. “That’s rich. I’m the one who just saved yer spoiled ass from gettin’ robbed. Or worse, lassie.”

You lower yourself, sensing a slight give in your arm as he loosens his grip, and elbow him hard in the stomach as you manage to break free from his grasp, hearing him grunt slightly. “I didn’t ask for your help, you brute.” You take two steps back, swiftly scanning the floor, hoping to find your fallen dagger. Since you can’t locate it, you focus back on the enemy, and your eyes widen as you finally take a good look.

He’s huge. Tall, bulky and built like a warrior, full of scars. His eyes and his hair are what make your breath catch in your throat: they’re fiery red. 

“Ye did no’, but ye sure as hell needed it.” He grins and takes another step forward, just to see you falter. “I’m no’ gonna harm ya, lass. I’m yer new guard. Yer da hired me.” He picks up the dagger you’ve been looking for but missed and hands it to you, handle first, along with the one he took. “Eustass Kid, at yer service.” 

By the resigned sound of his voice, he’d much rather be anywhere else but here. You snatch the daggers from his hands with a scowl. You’d much rather he be anywhere else as well but, alas, here you both are. 

“I don’t need a guard.” You grimace as you manoeuvre around the dead bodies, your stomach already used to the stench of blood by now, walk around Kid, and out of the alley, not even bothering to see if he’s following you. 

But of course he is. How is he so silent when he’s built like an Angus?

“Ya sure about that, lass?” His voice is clipped and dripping with sarcasm which just makes you grit your teeth as you quicken your pace. “Seemed like ya needed one back there, nae?”

“I had it covered!” You snap back, hands balled into fists as you stomp your way back into the keep. 

“Aye, I saw. Maybe I should’ve let ya finish, then. Were ye gonna use yer witty words on them? Pray they let ya go just because ya have a sharp tongue?” He scoffs and you stop abruptly, pivoting with a finger in the air, your eyebrow raised high.

“I don’t appreciate the mockery, you don’t even know me.”

He leans down, his face inches from yours with that infuriating grin on his lips. “Aye, I know ya well enough tae paint a pretty picture, lass. Stubborn, reckless, proud.” His hand rises and he stabs a finger against your forehead, pushing you back with just the strength of that one digit. “Prancin’ around a war-torn town in fancy clothes, screamin’ yer noble and ready tae be robbed… aye, real smart, lass!”

You swat his hand away with the swing of your arm, growling as your temper flares. “You don’t know shit!”

“Ohhh.” He laughs, this time, a hearty laugh that sends a tingle down your spine. “Witty and foul-mouthed? What cannae that tongue do?”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Behave like a proper lady and stay in my keep, filling my belly while my people die of starvation? I don’t think so.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise your chin high, defying the infuriating man to say something else. 

“No’ what I’m sayin’, lass. But at least have some sense about it.” The grin fades and his voice hardens as he becomes serious. “There’s a war ragin’ and the street’s nae place for a noble woman. And there’s a difference between bravery and stupidity. Guess which one yer tippin’ on, right now?”

Is he serious? 

You don’t even grace that remark with a proper answer. There’s no use fighting with this man. You told your father you didn’t need a guard and he went and got you the most infuriating one of the lot!

Just my luck.

-*-

You’re so pissed that  you have a shadow following you everywhere, that you don’t leave your room for the next three days, hoping he gets bored and just leaves. 

He doesn’t.

On the fourth day you’re the one who’s bored so as the sun rises, so do you. You take your breakfast in peace, your guard nowhere to be seen because you’re in the keep where it’s safe. You can almost feel him as you walk around your own home. It’s a prickling at your nape, a sensation that makes you want to caress your neck. It tingles.

Days pass and you avoid making conversation with him at all costs. You keep running away from him, trying to evade his ever-present shadow, but you fail every time. More than once you think you finally did it, only to find him leaning against a wall –trademark, infuriating smirk in place– or for him to appear whenever you're about to be robbed. 

That is also why you now avoid going into town delivering food. The increase in attacks gives your guard the satisfaction of saving you and it only infuriates you. He shadows you everywhere, always wearing that smug smirk or his infinitely bored expression. He’s insufferable. 

The morning breaks like many others but you’re so frustrated you need to vent. So you pick up a sword and decide to take your anger out on the dummies in the courtyard. The sword feels heavy in your hands since you’re more used to daggers, but the recent attacks got you thinking that perhaps the gruff guard made a valid point. It’s wartime. Two measly daggers aren’t gonna save you. The sword might.

You start swinging, hitting the dummy but not making real damage, and then you sense him watching you. That damn prickling again, it’s like a pressing need at your nape. You let out a growl paired with a curse, and a bit of straw flies out of the dummy as you strike it again. 

“Ya swing that sword like yer holdin’ a broom.” You stop, take a deep breath and don’t turn around, going for the dummy again and trying your best to ignore the annoying prick. “Yer form’s all wrong.” He continues and so do you. Whack, whack. “That’s a good way tae get killed, lass.”

Pivoting around to face him, jaw clenched and knuckles white from gripping the sword, you show him your best leave me the fuck alone look. “If you have nothing useful to say, then stay quiet!”

“Feisty.” He replies with a chuckle and you grunt in exasperation. 

You give him a few more moments of your time, eyebrows raised in defiance as you wait for more remarks, but he raises his hands in the air and you turn your back to him, continuing your dummy slaughter. 

It doesn’t take long for him to speak again. “Yer still holdin’ it wrong. Yer gonna hurt yerself first before ye hurt someone else.” You sense him approaching but don’t turn. “But, aye, let’s just be stubborn as a mule, that also works.”

Your head whips back so fast you’re certain you pulled a muscle. “Are you calling me a mule?”

“Just sayin’ yer as stubborn as one.” He takes another step, his head leaning to the side as he observes you and you feel yourself flush under his gaze. “Yer too stiff, relax yer grip on the handle.”

“I didn’t ask for your advice.” You bite back, venom in your voice and fire in your eyes.

“Lucky ye, here I am offerin’ it just the same.”

“Screw you.” You mutter but still relax your grip on the handle as he says.

“Maybe later.” He grins as you scoff, then invades your space, his hands pushing your shoulders down, the touch sending a shock through your system. “I said relax, no’ stiffen more, lass.”

You shoot him a sideways glance but still do as he says, relaxing your shoulders and your hands. 

Then he nudges your feet with his own, spreading your legs into a wider stance. “Open yer legs wider for me lass, will ye? Now try again.” You flush crimson at the insinuation but still do as he says, though you keep grumbling. When you swing though, the hit actually cuts through the dummy and you gasp. “See? Yer actually capable.” You grin, a small smug smile curving your lips. “It’s no’ that yer a good student, I’m just a great teacher.”

And there goes your good mood.

“Insufferable.” You bite back.

“That too. But damn good.”

You stop your swing mid-air and turn to him, lifting your blade to his chest. “You know, maybe I should stop practising on dummies and start practising on you.” The smirk you give him is devious. 

“Ye cannae take me, lass.”

Glaring at him through lowered lashes, you raise your chin. “Try me.”

His eyes darken and the tingling sensation at your nape intensifies tenfold. You see him tense up but you don’t wait to see what he does next. You lunge forward, sword raised, relaxed grip and a wide stance –like he taught you just now– and he easily swings out of the way. 

With a frustrated grunt, you pivot to swing your sword to the left, where he dodged, and he evades you again, a small smirk tugging the corners of his lips. You suck a deep breath through your nose before letting it out slowly through your mouth, centering yourself. Then you swing again, leg planted firmly on the ground for support.

Kid hits your elbow from below, twisting your arm and disarms you with a quick flick of his hand –the sword clatters to the floor– then, in a second he has you in his grip, your back flushed against his chest, one of his hands at your throat and his other arm pinning you against him, rendering you immobile. 

Damn.

He’s intoxicating. His scent lingers everywhere and the warmth of his body against yours crackles and burns. 

“Yer easy.” He whispers against your ear and it’s a caress that travels down your neck, through your nipples and into your throbbing core. Fuck.

“Let me go.” Lacing your voice with authority doesn’t get you far, as your words fall empty and shaky. 

“Make me.” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, sending goosebumps down your neck. “Yer no’ as tough as you think, lass.” He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on your traitorous body, and he’s using it.

Two can play that game.

You turn your head to the side and tilt your chin up, your movements slightly constricted by the hand on your throat, and brush your lips against the exposed skin of his neck. “I’m not what?” Your hot breath fans his skin and you notice how it prickles before his jaw tightens and he loosens his hold. You use that opening to your advantage and shove him, taking a step away from him and almost gaining your freedom back –he doesn’t let you.

With a swift movement his arm envelops your waist and he pulls you to him again as you let out a frustrated groan. “It’s over, lass. Yer done.” There’s more gruffness in his voice now.

“I’m not done until I say I am.” You bite back, struggling to free yourself but he’s not even making an effort to hold you against him. 

“Yer stubborn.”

“Aye! We’ve established that already. It also means I’m tenacious!”

“Ya dinnae know when tae quit, nor when tae ask for help.” He twists you in his arms with surprising ease and now you’re facing him as he places his hands on your shoulders. “Ye need tae learn tae trust someone besides yerself.”

“Trust you?” You begin and thank the gods your voice is still stable.

“Aye. I’m here tae protect ya.”

You scoff and turn your eyes away from him, his words hitting too close to the mark, making you uncomfortable. You don’t need guards and you definitely don’t need Eustass Kid as your guard. 

“You’re the last person I would trust.”

Kid removes his hands from your shoulders and takes a step back. His jaw ticks and clenches as he nods. 

“Understandable. I’ll be around, anyway, lass.”

He turns to leave and your body suddenly feels cold, though it’s still tingling from the earlier blaze. His words hang heavy in the air around you. Trust. How can you trust somebody other than yourself if you’ve been doing that your whole life?

-*-

Weeks pass and you’re getting more used to Kid being your shadow. You fight like cats and dogs. He’s insufferable and you’re, in his words, a brat. No accidents have happened while you deliver food and money to the surrounding towns, but you know that’s because nobody dares to attack you while Kid is around. His imposing figure is threat enough for any brigand who wishes to rob you. 

You train a few more times with him watching but he doesn’t give you any more pointers and you start to think that maybe it was your trust comment that got him angry at you. 

Like I care.

You try to fool yourself, but you do care. He’s not the best company but he’s not the worst. If you take away the amused snickers, the mocking undertones in his words, or his gruffness, he’s perfectly tolerable. Though he gets under your skin like no one else.

That, and the tingling sensation that doesn’t seem to go away. To add to it, there’s also a throbbing of need in your core that nights alone, pleasuring yourself, cannot push away. You hate the fact that you loathe your guard almost as much as you desire him, and that alone drives you insane. You're hyper-aware of the way his muscles flex as he moves, the grunts he releases when he exerts himself and his strong scent of steel, sweat and leather. Even worse, all you can think about is how those muscles would flex as he handles your body, or how his grunts would sound as he sinks deep into you and how you'd be smelling him on yourself afterwards. It's overwhelming. 

There's the heat and throbbing again, at your core, in your nipples, everywhere! Fuck. 

“Lass?” His voice near your ear almost releases an unbridled moan from you, since you were lost in thought, so you groan and get up from the dining table where you were reading some letters, stomping your foot. 

“I’m going to bed!”

You don’t even look back at him. 

-*-

You retired early but sleep doesn't come easily. You overheard your father's meeting today and learned that there's been unrest at the borders and another clan abandoned your cause to join the opposing army. 

You're concocting a plan to gather information from the warfront that could tip the scales of the war, and if all goes well, you'll have it by the end of the week. 

You toss again in your bed, kicking the covers off with a loud groan. It's unusually hot for the middle of the night. The window is open but there's hardly any breeze, making it difficult to sleep. It doesn't help that your mind keeps drifting to an insufferable redhead –and how there's just a wall separating you. 

Eventually sleep claims you, and you drift into a dreamless slumber. 

You're jolted awake by a calloused hand clamped over your mouth, as another rips the front of your nightgown. You try to scream as you open your eyes, meeting the lecherous gaze of a scrawny, dark-haired man. He’s trying to grope you as his filthy fingers press against your lips with such force, you're sure they will leave bruises. 

If you survive. 

“Aye, bonnie lass, keep thrashing. I don't like it when lasses lose their fight.” He's untying his breeches with one hand, pinning your arms beneath his legs, his weight pressing down on your torso, and panic floods you. You need to make noise. It's the only way to alert Kid. “I was gonna just rob ya, but ye looked so pretty with yer legs bare. I had to touch ya.” 

His hand leaves his pants to grope your bare thigh and you whimper. Then you remember that you can fight back and bite down hard on the hand that's covering your mouth. He yanks his hand back with a yelp, and – gagging at the lingering taste– you take advantage of the distraction and unbalance him. Grabbing the oil lamp from the bedside table, you smash it against his head, scattering scalding oil over his head, your hand, and legs.

The pained groan that escapes your lips brings tears to your eyes as your skin begins to burn and blister. The bastard is in worse shape, but you don’t look too long. Swinging your aching legs to the side, you try to get up and away from him, but he pins you again, spittle flying from his mouth as he leans closer, the angry red welts from the oil are already forming blisters across his face. 

“Burn me ya bitch? Ye’ll pay for this!” 

But before he can act, the door crashes open, nearly flying off its hinges, and Kid enters, his eyes burning with rage as soon as he sets eyes on the scene unfolding in front of him. He’s shirtless and you can’t help but gasp at the enormous scars covering his torso and left arm –a continuation of the ones trailing down his face and neck, scars you hadn’t yet seen. 

“Get the fuck away from her.” His growl vibrates low and deadly and you sense the man shiver for a second. He yanks you up, his filthy hand clawing at your exposed chest, forcing your back against him as he cowers behind you. A small dagger presses against your throat, and you immediately feel a trickle of hot blood running down your neck.

Kid growls again, a feral sound that bristles the hairs in your body and you smell urine as the man behind you leaks his bladder with fear. “Don’t come any closer!” He squeaks, pressing the dagger harder and you whimper softly at the sting of the blade.

Kid hesitates, then stops. One hand grabs his Lochaber axe, the other, a small dagger. You lock eyes with him and then you lower them to the dagger he’s holding, a steely determination purses your lips and you hope he understands you. “Kid, I trust you.” 

He exhales a breath, flips the dagger in his hand, catching it by the tip, and throws it in your direction. It takes a blink of an eye for you to hear the sickening thud as the blade pierces the man’s skull through the forehead, killing him instantly. Then it takes you another blink of an eye to waver forward and away from the man’s crumpling, smelly body, but in less than that time, Kid is by your side, holding you, pulling you against him with another one of his wordless grunts that, somehow, tells you much more about his relief than his words ever would. 

“Lass, yer alright?” His clipped tone masks the slight quiver in his voice, but it’s there, barely noticeable. You nod, still too shocked with what happened to do much more and Kid sits you on the bed, settling beside you. The man must’ve entered through the open window, you think, as Kid fumbles with your bedcovers, pulling a blanket loose and draping it over you. It dawns on you that your breasts were exposed and you should care, but you don’t. 

As the fabric brushes the blisters on your hands and legs, you hiss, jerking slightly. Kid’s eyes trace the red welts marking your skin. Each new one he finds just deepens his scowl. “Fucker.”

“It’s fine.” You say. “I’ll put some honey and knitbone poultice on it. It will heal.” 

“Lass…” His tone softens as his rough hands gently touch your cheeks on the area near your mouth, clearly seeing the beginnings of the bruise the man’s fingers left there. He tips your chin up to inspect the small cut the man’s dagger left on your throat. “Ye did well, but ye’ve been through hell. Let’s get ya cleaned up.” He tries to move you but you shake your head, your breath coming in gasps as the shock sets in. Kid grips your shoulders, trying to ground you. “Oi, oi, it’s over, look at me lass. Look at me.”

Tears stream down your face, blurring your vision, but you focus on his fiery eyes, your lifeline in the midst of a violent storm. “Ye did well. Ye defended yerself. But I’m here for ye, I told ye.” His hand moves up, the caress lingering softly against your cheek, a gentle contrast to his usual harshness. “Dinnae try tae do everythin’ yer own. Ask for help. I’m here for ye.”

A ragged sob makes your lips tremble and you shake your head, swatting his hand away with more force than necessary. “Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't. You're just a hired sword and I’m a spoiled brat. So stop trying to make me feel better!”

Your breathing quickens as your heart hammers in your chest. The tears don’t stop, everything hurts and you feel so alone. You decided to trust him and he didn’t fail you so why do you feel like this? 

Because he’s paid to protect you. He’s paid to take care of you. He doesn’t really care.

Suddenly Kid leans forward, pulling you against his chest, his hand cradling your head as his lips brush the crown of your head. You cry, releasing hot tears against his bare skin. 

It’s comforting.

“I care.” He says softly, barely a whisper against your hair. “Yer mine tae protect.” A few moments pass in silence and comfort, only broken by your sobs and sniffs. The keep is quiet. You thought you’d screamed loud enough to wake the townspeople, let alone the whole house. But you must’ve been quiet, for only Kid heard you.

Kid cares. 

He cares for you.

To Be Continued...

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia

|Part 2|

[evermoresversion]

FALLING FOR YOU, CONRAD FISHER. CHAPTER THREE.

PAIRING Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Established relationship, fluff, marriage proposal, mention of pregnancy.

SUMMARY After everything you've been through, you and Conrad decide the future of your relationship.

SONG Paper Rings by Taylor Swift.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | CONRAD'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST | SERIES' MASTERLIST

"Where we go?" you asked Conrad as he guided you somewhere on the beach while you had your eyes covered with a blindfold.

It had been at least two years since what happened with Belly.

"Just wait a little bit." you could hear the smile on his lips and there was a moment where he let go of you.

"Connie?" you asked with a bit of worry but it dissipated when you heard his voice again.

"I'm here, hon." You waited until he gave the next instruction. "Walk a couple of steps forward."

"I'm not going to fall, am I?" you heard him let out a soft laugh.

"No, love, trust me."

You sighed and did as he asked, thus coming across his body, from which you took his forearms with your hands so as not to fall.

"I got you, I got you." he assured. "Take off the blindfold."

Once again you obeyed him and blinked several times to get used to the sudden change in light while Conrad adjusted your hair that had been messed up.

Once you could see clearly a big smile formed on your lips.

"We are in...?" You asked, looking into his eyes and observing a shine in them that you were sure was the same in yours.

"Yes, we are in the same place where..."

"We kissed for the first time." You both said in unison while you watched the beach and he admired you.

"Yeah." he smiled.

"This part of the beach is even prettier at night." you mentioned and your gaze finally landed on Conrad and he looked at you with love and adoration. Despite so much time together, he still managed to make you nervous.

"I thought about making dinner for you but everything would probably have burned, so I might as well pass on that option." He mentioned with a sly smile of embarrassment and you smiled, caressing the back of his hand with your thumb.

"It's perfect anyway." You murmured, observing everything in detail. "Did you decorate it yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah," he scratched the back of his neck, looking at everything as well and then at you. "Do you like it?"

"Are you kidding me? I love it. I love the vintage lights and the detail of the petals. Thanks, Connie." You smiled gratefully and he leaned down to peck your lips.

"Everything to see you happy."

Your attention was diverted to one of the nearby trees, some photos were hanging on it. You approached to see it up close and sure enough, they were photos of both of you.

"Connie this is beautiful..." as you turned to look at him, he was kneeling on one knee in front of you, holding the most beautiful ring you had ever seen in your life.

"y/n, we have been through so much together that I think we deserve a happy ending, I wanna teach you how forever feels like, I want to wake up with you every morning, spend the rest of my life with you and grow old together. You are everything I was looking for and I finally found it, so I won't let you go, I will take care of your heart as the most precious thing I have, you are everything to me. Do you want to marry me?"

Some tears threatened to come out of your eyes and a look of panic appeared on Conrad's face at your silence, but he sighed in relief the moment you began to nod effusively.

"Yes! Of course I want to marry you." Conrad got up from the ground, gently took your hand, put the ring on your finger, kissing your hand and took your face to kiss you lovingly.

"We're going to be very happy, you won't regret it." He murmured against your lips and you kissed him again excitedly.

At that moment you didn't need anything more than each other.

Deep down you have never needed it.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.

TAGLIST OF THE SERIES : @ilovefamousmen11 @elcpsstuff @j-u-hs-world @akornsworld @conradfisherswifesstuff @sarcasm-and-stiles @nctma15

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#9. Make It Right

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe / kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ Brief breast play/ Protected sex/ Unportected sex/ Cockwarming/ Riding/ Car sex/ Word 'slut' (I don't know if I've missed any)/ Angst / INFIDELITY

Word count- 15k

a/n- Another very late update... I'm so happy I was able to finish this. Hope you'll find this exciting. And like always thank you for reading and then for your patience. Luv u.❤️

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

You stare into the faces that stare back at you. Innocent. Curious. Afraid. Blinking at your stupid figure just standing there. When Jungkook called you an alien, it didn’t feel like it. Now though, you do feel like an alien with ten tentacles, five antennas, and two heads. That’s how they stare at you. That’s how you exactly look in your cozy pajama shorts and an oversized tee. Your feet are only covered by knee-high woolen socks. No shoes. No jackets. Shivering. But above all, scared and confused like an abandoned puppy in the middle of Seoul.

In hindsight, you have no idea what the hell is happening. Just like the first day you woke up next to Park Jimin. Only that you didn’t wake up on a cozy bed this morning. And instead of a godly looking shirtless man, you faced at least 30 young people. Staring you down. In fact, a couple of harsh nudges on your ribcage were what woke you up. Probably a five minutes ago. When you opened your eyes, you experienced the same level of feral panic. Like the day you saw Park Jimin for the first time. You screamed. They screamed too. You got up to your feet in light speed. They stepped away from you in light speed. Then you stared, stared, and stared. Still, staring. At the bunch of kids in front of you. With their mouth hanging open. One look at your surroundings is enough to tell you that you’re definitely standing in a classroom.

Holy fucking……

You take an uncertain, scared step back. You’re standing in a classroom. You woke up in a classroom!

How?

Where are you?

Are you in your world? Jimin’s?

Your panicked brain doesn’t get enough time to wonder over what’s happening when hurried footsteps reach you. Followed by several voices. Belonging to adults. Not to kids who have to crane their neck upward to look at you.

“Who are you?” An innocent, adorable voice asks that question at the same time some strange man barges inside. Then another one enters the room. Then another. You assume they are teachers. You can hear some whispering going around. Soon turn out to be mumbling and a noisy babble. Funny questions and assumptions start to flow as you look at the newcomer with wide eyes. You swear you hear someone say something about you being a witch from a movie you’ve never heard of.

“Stay put. Don’t move.” One of the men stretches his hand into a defensive position. Taking a cautious step forward. You listen. Not daring to even move a finger. Catch several women enter the room as well. They are here for the kids. Evacuating. Practically dragging kids out. You just watch. Raise your hands in the air to let them know you surrender. Cause no harm to anyone. They don’t believe you, however. It seems. That’s how you find yourself dragged out by two men in blue uniforms no more than three minutes later.

It happened all so fast. One moment you were trying to explain that you’re not a threat to anyone. That you’ve no idea how you ended up here. The people you assumed to be teachers didn’t really listen to you. Only parting their ways for the police officers. Then you’re dragged away.

What the actual fuck?

In your confused state, you can’t even bring yourself to say anything. Just letting them take you away. Looking at the eyes staring at you in shock.

……………………………………………….

You spent the whole day being restless and antsy in your apartment yesterday. With Key by your side. She was restless too. For a whole different reason. You were worried to death because you didn’t know if your wish had really worked. Because you didn’t know if you would see Park Jimin again. He asked you to stay after all. No scratch that ─ he begged you to stay. And you’re weak. He wanted a chance to make it right. You don’t know how. Hell, you don’t even know what you’re doing. It didn’t matter though. All that mattered was being able to see him once again. So, of course, you were afraid. Afraid that you might not wake up in his bed again. Then Key was afraid whatever you did, won’t work. You went to sleep late last night. After praying for every higher entity that you would be waking up in another world in the following morning. Ridiculous, considering you were asking for the complete opposite few months ago.

Then when you know your prayers had been answered, shouldn't you be the happiest in every damn universe? Well, you are. Or you were. For a split second when you noticed a license plate. Just like how you knew something was wrong that day inside Park Jimin’s car. But that happiness was very short lived. It popped out like a bubble. You were forced inside a police car for the first time of your life. While you were in your pajama shorts, for fucks sake. And now you’re sitting in a very uncomfortable plastic chair in front of a messy desk. A middle-aged bald man glaring at you like you’re Rafael Caro. Or any other dangerous criminal that exists in this world. You sigh heavily.

“Listen officer, you have to trust me when I say I’ve no idea how I ended up there.” You reason. Leaning forward over the messy table. He scoffs.

“Yeah? So what? Someone drugged you and took you inside a middle-school?” Questions. Entwines his fingers. “You listen to me, filth, you could very well be a sick headed psychopath that we need to lock up immediately─” You try to protest but he holds his hand up stopping you. “─then you refuse to tell us your identity. What’s that make of you?” Points out. Well, you don’t exist in this world. You made the mistake of giving your real identity which they couldn’t find. Then you had the option of using the name Kim Liya. The thing is you’re simply worried what problems it’ll cause later. So, you stay put. Keep it shut. And by the look of it, it’s not going in your favor. You are angering this man before you. You by no means know how these things work. Will they put you behind bars just like that? Only if you can call someone and let them know. Ask for help.

The thing is, yet again, you don’t have a method of communication. Your phone, the one that works in this world, is not in your possession. It wasn’t there when you woke up yesterday. You must’ve fallen asleep after tiring yourself to sleep with Jimin. You can’t remember how that night ended. Only that Jimin asked you to stay, and you agreed. Told him your stupid theory of making a wish. Of course, he became difficult. Because he is Park Jimin. You had to talked it over until your eyes were droopy. So, he just laid back in the couch. Dragged you with him. You didn’t protest. Last thing you remember is him asking you to try the only way you know. And maybe him begging you not to leave once again. You obviously didn’t remember to take your phone with you. Now, you don’t have it.

The sigh police officer lets out brings you to the present. “Well, at this rate this is not a simple breaking in, you’re intentionally hiding your identity, you’ve no documentation you could provide us. In that case, I’m sorry, lady, I would have to follow the regulations.” He more of mumbles to himself. Your eyes go wide. What regulations? What is he going to do? Oh no, no, no. This can’t be happening. You really don’t want to experience a single second inside a holding cell. You’re not a criminal.

“No, no wait! Wait.” You nearly stand up as you practically yell. Making the officer throw you a disapproving glance. “I can prove my identity. But, uh... can I call someone?” You look at the man uncertainly. Worried that he would say no.

“Call who? Your lawyer?” He questions after a minute of silence.

“No. But someone who can vouch for my identity. And vouch that I am no criminal, and all of this is a huge mistake. C’mon, I know you can’t deny my rights. I’m allowed to call someone.” You regret saying the last part the moment it leaves your mouth. It’s not like you’re trying to make this person more pissed at you. But then even though his face turns stony, you’ve said the truth. After another sigh he points you the phone. Tells you something about it being recorded. And something about a time limit. You just nod. Jumping at the chance and already dialing Jimin. See, each and every experience in this world has prepared you for the unexpected. The day you bleed through your vagina and had to ask Jimin’s neighbor for a call. You made sure to memorize Park Jimin’s number like it’s your own name. Everything, in the end, comes in handy.

You keep the receiver presses into your ear. Heart pounding as you worry that he wouldn’t pickup. Then after the fifth ring he does. His groggy voice reaching you. Probably still sleeping.

“Hello?” Asks slowly. You feel a rush of relief wash over you.

“Jimin.” You say eagerly.

“Lil?”  Suddenly, there’s not a trace of sleepiness in his voice. If anything, you can hear the alarmed quivering.

“Yeah.” You glance at the police officer. Don’t know if he’s being kind or not.

“Wait? Where are you? How?” There are sounds of rustling following his sound. There’s no time to explain things over the phone.

“I’ll explain. But can you come?” You ask calmly as you can. Not wanting to panic him as well. Which turns out be a complete waste of effort once you say where you are.

The last thing he says sounds like a ‘hold on baby, be right there’. You couldn’t tell since he has already hung up.

………………………………

“Are you fucking kidding me? You just dragged her here? And what? You assholes couldn’t even give her a fucking jacket?” Jimin bangs the desk with his palm. You flinch. Oh, this is not a very polite behavior. Especially since you’re in the wrong. Not that you intended to trespass, but the police did their job. Just that. They haven’t even pressed charges against you. You were the one who couldn’t prove your identity. And Jimin here is causing unnecessary trouble. Why would he be so mad? Apparently, it’s because they’ve not given you a jacket. Isn’t that silly?

“No Sir, but I need you to calm down.” The same police officer who stared you down for the past thirty minutes, called you ‘filth’ and a ‘psychopath’ shows his palms. Trying to calm Jimin down. The bugger is bowing down to you now, all because he thinks you’re the CEO of The SE. You’re playing Liya it seems. Yet again. That’s your identity. He is bowing to Jimin deeply because there’s money involved here now. Power. Well, simply how the world works. Or all the worlds in that case. Officer had already apologized to you for causing trouble. And he didn’t even care how or what you were doing at a middle school anymore. The problem is resolved now. It should be if it isn’t for Jimin throwing tantrums here.

This scene is getting attention and you’re becoming embarrassed. You tug at his jacket. “That’s fine Jimin.” Mutter under your breath. He gives you a look. Scowling deeply.

“That’s not fine.” He shoots a glare at the officer. Then looks at you again. Eyes cast down to where you’re still sitting. Slightly shivering. He sighs in resignation. Gaze softening as he takes his jacket off. Wraps it around you. Ignores the little sounds of protest you let out. Crouches down in front of you, taking your hands in his. Squeezes. “You okay Lil?” Wonders. Voice so soft. You nod. Not that you’re completely okay, but ever since your first day, you learnt to expect the unexpected.

“Can we leave please?” You mumble that out. Watching Jimin’s eyes reflecting something you can’t quite decipher. He smiles softly. A crooked one. Then gives you a few nods in agreement.

“Yeah, c’mon.” Takes your hand in his. You stand up. Finally, feeling relaxed.

You bow to the officer and mutter an apology at the same time Jimin shoots another glare at him. You can hear the officer apologizing once again as you leave.

……………………………………………….

“What happened? How? Did you wake up early and left? How did you end up at a darn school?” There are so many questions spilling out through Jimin’s plump lips. While you’re now comfortably sitting inside his car. Warm, thanks to the heater and his puffy jacket. You look at Jimin’s wide eyes.

“No. I mean, do you think I’m crazy to leave like this? That’s a stupid guess.” You gesture at yourself. Jimin follows your movements. Eyes darting from your head to toe. That familiar amused smile paints his lips.

“Exactly! Why are you? Gosh, Lil, you were like what, wearing clothes that covered every inch of your skin while you were waking up with me, and today out of all the fucking days you decided wear that? And why are you wearing those socks?” He looks away from you as a chuckle rumbles his chest. You gasp.

“Okay first, Mr. Park, I won’t sit my pretty ass here and listen to you criticize my clothing choices─”

“Who said you have a pretty ass?” Jimin interrupts your venting. You feel your face heat up. A moment of insecurity gets to you before you see his coy smile.

“Yeah? I don’t? If I can recall correctly, last time you saw it you couldn’t keep your hands away and─” You nearly smack his head when he opens his mouth again. You point a finger at him. Not letting him interrupt you again.  “─listen to me. This is not about my ass anyway─”

“You have a pretty ass.” Just like that you’re interrupted again. This time though you’re really blushing hard. Oh, fucking Park Jimin. “I mean it.” He says as you look away through the window. Can hear the amused tilt in his voice. Can’t even understand if he’s teasing you or being truthful. Decide you need to let the subject slip.

“Thanks! But it doesn’t make me forgive you for saying my socks are ugly.” You throw a brief glance at his grinning face.

“Never said they are ugly.”

“You don’t have to use the exact words all the time. And I didn’t wear this knowing I would wake up in a fucking school.” You successfully turn the conversation.

“Yeah, about that. How did that happen?” Grin that’s adorning Jimin’s face disappeared. Replacing his expression with a serious scowl. You shrug simply. Sigh. Throw your head back against the headrest. What a parallel this is. Just like that day where you sat in this same car. With Jimin. Feeling frustrated as you do now. Confused. Not understanding a single thing. Only now it’s morning and you’re not trying to rip your throats off by shouting at each other. It’s not been long but how far you’ve come.

“I have no idea. All I know is I was sleeping on my bed and then instead of waking up next to you─ like I always did─ I woke up on a cold floor and…” A sigh again. Turn your head lazily to catch him already staring at you. “I don’t know Jimin. It probably didn’t work you know. The wish thing and maybe….” You don’t know what you should say. There are no answers again. You don’t think you had them at all. So, you simply downcast your gaze. Looking at your bare thighs, peeking through Jimin’s large jacket. It’s Jimin’s time to sigh. But instead of just giving up like you, he simply gains your attention by placing his hand on your thigh. Over his jacket. You snap your head toward him.

“Hey...” He mutters softly. Leans forward a bit. “It doesn’t matter. You’re safe, that’s enough. It worked or not I’m glad you’re here. Like you promised and as long as this doesn’t happen again, I’m fine.” Squeezes your thigh. “Okay?” Asks. Well, he is right. So, you say what he wants to hear. And when he is just about to take his hand back, decide to shoot a sudden question. Just pops in your head.

“Why aren’t you at work? You normally leave early?” Your curiosity is piqued by his attire. Is in those darn sweats. You like them on him. Then you like him in his suits. Like him on his boxers. In a towel and naked. He looks good on anything. Or nothing at all.

“Ah, yesterday was a rough night.” He shrugs. Brushing you off. You, however, are feeling suspicious. Mischievous. A rough night? Why?

“Wait! Were you worried I wouldn’t come? So worried that you couldn’t even sleep?” You gasp. Tilting your head back to look at him better. Jimin just looks at you. Opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. Are fully intended to use this chance. There’s a coy smile on your lips. No, a wicked one. “Seriously? You were that worried?”  You’re just about to tease him over and over again when he would deny it. Only for your chance to be robbed of you.

“Yes.” He mumbles. Leaves you stunned. Just one word. With his silky voice. You gape at him. Close your mouth which you opened to tease him. Slowly. Not knowing what’s the correct reaction. 

Oh!

Jimin chuckles. “Oh, c’mon, don’t act so surprised Lil. You know I was worried, I asked you to stay. No, I fucking begged you to stay─” Jimin squeezes your thigh again. Bore into your eyes. You do the same. Getting lost in those brown orbs. Enchanting. “─ so, of course, I was worried. I asked you to stay because I want you here.” Lifts his hand just to put it back where his jacket isn’t covering your thigh. Making you inhale a sharp breath. His hand is cold. Electrocutes your skin. Tingles. Goosebumps rising. You can’t look away. Spell bounded.

“Why?” You manage.

“What why?”

“Why you want me here?”

“I─ I don’t know─” Stars rubbing your thigh. Inkling upward. “I really don’t know Lil. Just want you here.” You don’t know when, but he has leaned forward some more. Is waiting for you to accept his answer. You gulp, suddenly feeling your mouth dry.

“You said you want to make it right for me?” You don’t accept his answer. Won’t simply give him the satisfaction of losing your senses over one touch of his. Even though that’s what is happening.

“I did.” He admits again. Jimin is more annoying when he admits it instead of fighting with you.

“You should do it then. Just because you made me cum twice, we’re not good Park.” You’re the one leaning forward now. Like Jimin is a magnet. Magnifying you. It’s head spinning how his fingers draws invisible lines on your inner thigh now. Jimin’s breath brushes your lips when he laughs. His laugh is soft. Stark contrast to how his eyes has turned dark.

“No. We’re not. I’m gonna make it to you, like I said.”

“How?” Your question earns a soft smile from Jimin. No answers though. Instead, he pecks your lips. Motions of his hand halts. His eyes drop to your thigh. Then back to your face. Doesn’t ask any questions. But in some fucked up way you know what he is asking. Your heart is already beating in your throat. Without your knowledge you’ve spread your legs. Jimin is waiting patiently. Well, what’s stopping you. “Please.” You mumble.

That’s all he needs. Lips attacks yours in a bruising kiss. Tongue roughly passing your lips inside your mouth. Hand cups your pussy over your shorts. Rubs. Eliciting those shameless moans which he swallows. Pulls away.

“Tell me this pretty cunt is already leaking for me.” Inches his face to your jaw. Voice dangerously law. You don’t think it’s possible for a voice to go that deep. He kisses your jaw. Then neck. Pulse point. Then is back to bore into your eyes. Asked a question after all. Well, of course you are. You started getting slick the moment he put his hands on you. How embarrassing.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t flatter yourself Park.” You mutter against his lips. Are going to be coy. Hold your power while you can. It’s just a matter of time until he gets you shamelessly begging. You hold your breath in anticipation when Jimin’s eyes turn even darker. He says nothing. Doesn’t do as you asked either. Simply presses his middle finger into your slit. Over the thin material of your shorts. Index and the ring finger grabbing your pussy lips as a ‘V’. Squeezes. Hard that you mewl.

“Ji-Jimin… mph.”

“Don’t try to be coy baby, makes me want to break you.” He kisses the shell of your ear. Rubs that middle finger against your slit. Making your panty stick to your core. You turn your gaze to where he is touching you. Entire body burning up. Another mewl leaves your lips to see the outline of your pussy lips. Squeezed between his fingers. But then you’re not the only one. A groan escapes Jimin. You turn your head to catch how his eyes are glued to his actions as well. “Fuck baby...” Mutters. Retrieves his hand just to show it inside the waist band of your shorts. Slips his middle finger through your slit. “Ahhhh… fuck.” Kisses your jaw. “See, you’re leaking. Already. I have all the reason in this world to flatter myself.” Says as his finger pokes your entrance. Making your needy hole clench in anticipation. And he nearly plunges it inside. You nearly lets out the biggest moan you can make when a voice reaches you. Closely followed by a figure walking past your car. You jump a little in your seat. The sudden realization of where you are hits you.

How stupid of you to get carried out like this way. You’re at a parking lot of fucking police station for fucks sake. What were you thinking? You could’ve ended up in a cell for real this time. You look at Jimin with wide eyes. Hoping to find out he felt the sudden realization as well. Only to be disappointed when you see his eyes are still very dark. Licks his lips.

“Want me to stop?” Asks while his finger still teasingly circling at your entrance. Not fair. He shouldn’t ask such questions while tempting you to do otherwise. You buck your hips into his touch. Biting on your lower lip to contain your moan.

“Well, I mean, no. But─” You don’t get to complete whatever you wanted to say when his finger thrusts inside. Pumps right away. That moan you tried to stifle finally leaves you. Oh, it feels fucking good. Almost enough to make you forget your surroundings once again. And you nearly do when he adds a second finger. But you don’t. “Ji- Jimin… no... not─” You looks at him with pleading eyes. Feeling oh so fucked up to see his lips parted. Soft breathes leaving. As if he is the one receiving pleasure. You let your head throwing back at the pleasure he is creating.  Struggling to find words. “Not h-here. Ji-Jimin. Take me somewhere. Fuck me.”

“Yeah? You want that? You should ask nicely.” He doesn’t stop torturing your cunt.

“Please.” See now, after the few times with Jimin, you’re certain that he loves it when you plead. He would do whatever to put you in that position. Shamelessly, you don’t mind that at all. You’ll beg, beg and beg till your throat sore if it means Park Jimin fucking your cunt relentlessly like this. With his fingers. With his tongue. With his cock. It feels too fucking good to care.

“Say it again baby? You want me to do what?”

So, you do.

“Want you to fuck me so hard Jimin please. Take me somewhere.” You make that plead with the best needy voice you can perform. Fortunately, it works. Jimin’s fingers leaves your cunt. Even though it makes you empty and desperate you’re happy he listens. You really want him to fuck you. And you don’t want to do that here. Jimin starts the car. Yet doesn’t pull away. Gives you a look.

“Keep touching yourself baby. Keep that tiny hole stretched out for me.” Smirks.

Holy fuck!

“Wh-what?”

“Did I stutter?”

Fuck you love this.

…………………………………………………

When you asked Jimin to take you somewhere, you expected him to take you into a hotel room. Motel room. A private space, like a secret apartment. His workplace. Anywhere else but an empty alleyway in middle of nowhere. You slip your fingers out of your cunt. Face burning. Sweating. Needy and desperate like a bitch in heat. Well, of course you’re needy after he made you edge yourself for an entire fifteen minutes’ drive.  In his defense, you know he didn’t intend it to take that long. But he was searching for an empty place like this. Where there is no one in sight. Still, it was pure torture. He made you shift between rubbing your pearl of nerves and pumping your own fingers inside your cunt repeatedly. Making you bring yourself to the edge. Only for him to demand ‘stop’. And like the good girl you are, you complied.

You let out a shaky breath. Taking a good look at Jimin. The moment your fingers leave your cunt he replaces them. “Let me see baby.” Graces over your sensitive clit and pumps his finger inside easily.

“That’s a good girl. You made a really good mess. See...” He rubs your arousal over your swollen pussy lips. Making you whimper. Taps on your clit. You’re crumbling. See, you knew exactly this is what going to happen. Rational thoughts are leaving your brain. “Dripping.” Jimin places a soft kiss into your cheek. “All for me right Lil. You edged yourself like a good slut for me, right? So, I can fuck you so good? Make you cum on my cock again and again?” Whispers filth in your ear. All the while his fingers rub your slit. From your clit your hole. Back from your hole to your clit. Repeatedly. The sensation paired with his sinful words make you float. You’re needly bucking your hips into his hand. Pressing your soppy cunt more into his fingers. Wanting more.

“Yes, Jimin. Please…” You clench around nothing.

“Does my pretty slut want my cock so bad?” He gives you another kiss. You turn your head so he can place those kisses on your lips. Oh, how you wish he would be so desperate like the last time.  Where he can’t control himself long enough to torment you like this. This is pure torture. But the good thing is you’re loving it. Love the way he plays.

“Yes, I want you s- so bad J-Jimin. Please… I can’t take it anymore. Fuck me hm?” You catch his lips in between yours. Feel like you’re in a haze. “Please.” Plead between your kisses. Do it again. Then again. “Please Jiminie. Baby please.” Whine. And you don’t know what did the trick. The beg or the nickname. You’re mortified honestly. Never planned to call him baby. But it’s already out and probably made Jimin curse aloud.

“Fuck. Fucking hell.” His hand stops. Levas your short. “On the back baby, c’mon.” Is already opening the door. Stops just to open the center console and fish out a foil packet. Then almost exits the car. Turns around to find you still unmoved. “Lil?” Questions. Well, you haven’t done this before. And it certainly seems like he has. You’re a bit nervous. But that doesn't mean you’re not up to trying. There were and are so many first times for you in this world. See, maybe you like this life a little too much now. You shake your head simply. Opening the door hurriedly to make it to the back seat.

You’ll not ask him the reason to keep condoms in his car. You don’t know if Jimin fucks other girls behind his girlfriend’s back. Like Taehyung. Or if he keeps them to use with Liya. You don’t want to think about that now. Are too horny to back down. The lines between you and Jimin are so blurry. You haven’t talked about anything. About what you’re doing. About his plans. No. You have no idea about anything. There’s no tag for this whatever-ship you two are in. It’s still the beginning. You’ll probably end up wounded up so bad in the end. But still, that’s a problem for later time. For now, all you can concentrate on is how good Jimin’s hand feels on you when he hurriedly drags your shorts down your thighs. Alongside your cotton panties. All you can do is to lean into his touch when he rubs your thighs. Motioning you to straddle him. So, you do. Raise your hips slightly so he can pull his own pants down. Then boxers. Freeing that hard-mouthwatering cock out. Earning soft whimpers from you.

“Hold on baby. I’m giving it you.” Jimin chuckles at your soft whimper. Rolling the condom down on his length.

“Hurry please.” You moan impatiently. Finally, feeling relieved when he holds his stiff cock upright for you.

“Okay, fuck, go on Lil. Take me in.”

You do as you’ve been asked. Adjust your body so your soppy hole is aligned with his pink tip. Roll your hips just once. Then you sink down. Feeling his cock stretching your entrance. Burning up your inside pleasurably. Your walls quavering to accommodate his hard cock. The moan you let out is due the pure relief. Gosh, it feels otherworldly. And to know that he feels the same. You’re positive you’d die. You and Jimin both moan in content when you finally take every inch of him. Safely buried inside your warm walls. He brings you close. Kisses you hard. Then just as you’re about to grind your hips, he pulls away. Stills you with his hands on your hips. Gives you a look which you can’t quite understand.

“What?” You mumble. Confused.

“Want me to keep playing?” His voice really makes your body vibrates. A shiver running through your spine. And at the haze of the moment, you make the mistake of choosing the wrong answer. It’s a very weak yet pathetic ‘yes’ does it for you.

“Fuck yeah? You want me to, don’t you baby? Want me to keep playing with your cute cunt?” Jimin sucks on your neck. Voice dangerous. Sinister. Teasing.

“Ye-yes mph yes. Fuck Jimin, yes.” You repeat what you said earlier. This time with more desperation. He groans. Then looks at you with those blown out eyes. Hooded.

“Let’s play then baby. Don’t move, okay? Don’t move until I say so.” Gives you a quick kiss. That means to be an act of comfort, but your brain starts to ring alarms immediately. You look at him with wide panicked eyes.

“Wh- what? What do you─”

“You heard me Lil. Just stay there, keep me warm. Keep dripping on to me like a good slut.” Jimin explains to you so casually. Stark contrast to how he looks right now. Tugs from your T-shirt to get you free from it. Does the same to your bra. You let him do that yet start complaining right away.

“No. No Jimin fuck. I can’t, you know I ca-can’t. Don’t do that. Want you to fuck me. Oh, fuck I’ll fucking…. Please.” You’re not even kidding here. You really feel that desperate. To have him stretched you out this way. Filling you to the brim. Feeling his warmth. Feeling his cock twitch inside you. But then not having him pounding into you like mad. Fuck you feel like you’re dying.

“You said you want me to play princess. Be a good girl now. Keep that cock warm baby.” Jimin throws his head into the head rest. Looking at you with hooded lusty eyes. See, you made the wrong choice. Were so dumb to think straight and now you’ve put yourself in this torture. All you can hope is that his control will snap soon. Silly of you to think that. Park Jimin apparently is the devil reincarnation. You’re absolutely wrecked and ruined at his hands. Turning into a puddle after sucking his plump lips for God knows how long. Letting him play with your tits, sucking and bruising the sensitive skin. Still, he doesn’t let you move. Keeps you still. His hard cock safely buried inside you. Maybe it’s not been that long. But to you with your brain screaming only one thing, it feels like you’ve been this way for hours. You have no idea how much you begged. Only that, being the asshole he is, Jimin enjoys your little pleads to the fullest. They make him even harder inside you, if it’s possible. And you know you can’t do this anymore. There’s this feral need for more. You need more. Something. Anything.

You pull away from his bruising kiss. Breathless. Panting. Your brain is malfunctioning when you purr against his mouth. Finally having enough of this torture. “Fine, you want me to keep your cock warm?”  You ask. Jimin just nods. Is so fucked up just like you. “L-let me do it the right way then.” You feel new wave of your arousals drenching Jimin’s cock. Just at the thought of what you’re initiating. He perks up, quirking a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Let me do it right way Jimin. Let-Let’s uh… let’s remove the stupid condom.” You blurt the words out. Loving the way Jimin’s breath hitches. Yet he doesn’t say anything. Stare at you dumbly. Maybe that’s too much. That needy monster who guided you to make that request pops out suddenly. Making you panic. You don’t want to cross any lines after all. “I mean, only if you want to. I- uh... I’m clean and I assume you’re too and… you know what never mind─” You’re quick to make excuses. Feeling stupid. But he stops you. Squeezes your hips. Groans.

“No... baby gosh no. Only if I want to? Fuck, you kidding me? Lil, I would die to fuck you raw. Shit you gonna kill me. C’mon move princess. Let us get rid of the stupid condom huh?” Makes you raise your hips. You moan at his words. Simply, you love this. Love this moment. Feel desired in a way you never did before. His words, touches, looks. All make you feel like you hold some power. A power to make someone, like Park Jimin looks this wrecked. And so do you absolutely love it when he gets rid of the condom. Guiding you back on his cock. Penetrating your clenching hole without a barrier. And like that you’re positive that the only living and breathing creatures left in the world are you two. Just you and him. Nothing else. Know Jimin feels the same. He hides his face in your neck. Arms wrapping around your figure. Clutching into you for his dear life. Loud obscene moans leaving past both of your lips.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck Lil. Holy fuck you…. aaahh...” Jimin mutters incoherently into your throat. You’re no different. Are losing your mind all over again. Basking in the feeling of Jimin inside you. Throbbing and twitching. Getting soaked with your essence. You try to keep in that way, complying to his wishes. Only that you’ve no control over yourself.

“Jimin, I really can’t anymore, please let me move. Let me come hm?” You ask against his ear. Your own arms wrapped around him tightly. One on the nape of his neck. Keeping him pressed against you. “Let me cum on your cock… Jimin-ah... god baby please.” Yet again you don’t know what did the trick. Doesn’t matter since Jimin pulls away. Nodding.

“Okay, fuck. Move baby. Ride me. Ride me good yeah?” His head falls back into the headrest again. You nod furiously. Immensely grateful for the end of this torture. Find your balance by placing your hands on his shoulders. Start by grinding your hips slowly. Circling. Then you raise your hips a bit. Moaning at the sensation of his hard cock dragging along your sensitive wall. Can feel every inch and vein. Clench. Making Jimin’s fingers dig into your hips. Making him grunt. Then you sink down again. Clench. Start doing the same thing. Slowly first but then within a minute you’re bouncing on his cock like your life depends on it. Jimin gives you the full control. Just enjoying the view. The way your tits bounce and the way they graces his chest occasionally. You both live in a trance. The sound of skin slapping and your shameless moans filling the tight space of his car. And the filth Jimin spills.

“Yes. Fuck baby, keep going, you’re doing so good. Use my cock hm? Use it to make yourself cum. Squeeze me so fucking tight.” He places your stray hair strands behind your ear. Just for them to fall back again as you move. “Like that, you’re such a needy slut Lil. Look at you. Gosh you’re squeezing me hard. Keep doing that.” Molds the soft flesh of your breasts. Sneaks one hand between your thighs, finding your swollen bud. Just adding more pleasure to your ecstasy. “Cum.” Demands. “Cum baby. You begged me to cum slut. Let go.” Picks up the speed of his hand. And that’s all that it takes for you. Two more flicks against your clit while his cock hits all the right places inside you, you fall over the edge. Screaming his name through your clenched teeth. Shaking. Legs buckling. Yet can hear him groan through the ringing of your ears.

“Shit, shit, keep going. Lil keep, fuck… I’m gonna... you need to move princess.” You open your eyes to find him throwing his head back. Clenching his jaw tightly. “Lil now… fuck.” Well, you don’t do anything to be honest, too lost in pleasure. Too weak to do anything. It’s just him who raise your hips up just in time for the ropes of hot white cum to hit your lower abdomen and your cunt. Painting you in white. In him. God you’ll do the impossible to hear that moan he lets out. To see this look on his face again. Lips ajar. Brows furrowed. And covered in sweat. Nearly break you apart at how tight he holds you. “Oh, fuck. Fucking hell baby─” Jimin doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead chose to kiss you hard. Harsh. Long. Until the bliss of your high dies down. That’s when he pulls away finally. Rests his forehead against yours.

“I don’t think I can get enough of this shit.” Mumbles.

Well, you think the same.

……………………………………………………

“For fuck’s sake Park!!!” You try to dodge his grabby hands. Hands that are trying to squeeze your cheeks.

“What? You’re cute when you’re mad.” Jimin grabs you by the waist. Pressing you against his chest. You and he need to be embarrassed, at least. Yet here you are. Fooling around like two elementary school kids. You’ve been ever since you left that alleyway where Jimin parked his car just to fuck you. He made sure to annoy you for so many reasons including your – as he calls them- ugly socks. Then he refuses to admit he said it. But that’s what he’s been saying. You get it. Hell, you even felt self-conscious to walk across the lobby to the elevator. You must’ve looked like a clown. Knee high socks and no shoes. Jimin offered you his, but you refused.  So, you’re mad at him. Not for real, no. See, just fooling around.

“I’m not mad.” You try to free yourself. He doesn’t let you. You give up. “You laugh at my socks, but you didn’t remove them when you fucked me.” Gasp. “You like them, don’t you? You’ve that kind of kink─”

“Really?” Jimin raises his brow. Exasperated. “What kind of kink?” His eyes are back to glinting. You squint your eyes. Trying to think of something. Just to find out you don’t know.

“I don’t know─” Say when Jimin chuckles. “But you have one. I’m fucking sure. That’s why you make rude comments about them.”

“What’s the logic in that. Why would I make rude comment… no wait, I didn’t make rude comments.” He defends with wide eyes. You’re about to counter when the elevator door dings. He lets you go. Waiting for the doors to open. You step out first. Entire floor is eerie silent, given the fact that there’s only two apartments.

You still haven’t talked about anything. It’s easy to procrastinate things. You felt the need to ask him your questions more than once to be honest. Then you’re pretty sure this light mood. This bantering and teasing will shift. It’ll all shift into something heavier. You’re too selfish, like you always are. Don’t want that to happen. So, you keep it shut. Pretend like you’re just a normal girl who walks into her home with her boyfriend.

Jimin enters the code to the keypad. You just take that time to look around. At the closed door of Lees. It’s all calm and quiet. Peaceful. It always has been this way. Jimin grabs your attention back when he pushes the door open. Holds the door for you. You enter first, just walking inside since you don’t have to remove your shoes. Wait for Jimin to join you.

“What do you wanna eat?” He asks behind you as you walk pass the entryway. You turn your head to look at him.

“Definitely ramen. I’m craving ramen.” You make a little moan in the end. Making him scrunch his nose. In adoration. Reaches his hand to your cheek again. Nearly touches you when─

“Where were y─” The sudden voice startles both you and Jimin. Making you snap your head toward the sound. Eyes landing on a figure, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Your heart dropping dead for a fractured second. You feel Jimin freezes behind you. Well, you do the same. Freeze. Mouth going dry and jaw dropping to the floor.

No!

No!

No. No. No.

You make eye contact with yourself. Just standing across from you. You. That’s who she is. Only being differ with some little changes. But it’s just you. Staring right back at you. Her mouth hanging open just like yours. You make eye contact with her. Liya. Kim Liya.

Kim fucking Liya.

You feel your knees weaken. Feel your legs buckle. This can’t be happening. Why not? You made the damn wish. You wished for her life. For her to have a normal life while you still being on the picture. Well, you thought it didn’t work. You think Jimin believed the same. You two were so fucking selfish for not even bring her name to your conversation at least once. Or you both wanted but decided to do it later. Now it’s too late. She is right here. In front of you. Now you don’t have time to wonder what about Liya? It’s getting hard to breathe. Liya opens her mouth first. Eyes darting between you and Jimin, who’s just few steps behind you.

“Wh- What... What’s─” That’s all she could bring out. Rest of her words dying on her tongue. Drowning out with the ear-splitting screech you left out. Your hand grabbing the left side of your chest. It’s sudden. Like a sudden stab. But painful as if every bone in your body cracked at the same time. It comes from nowhere. You were just fine a second ago and now you’re doubling down while clutching your chest. Like it would fall if you remove your hand. It comes like a crashing wave. Pain. Just pure pain in your chest. Enough to make your head throb. Ears ring. Sight blur. The last thing you see before everything goes blur is Liya clutching her chest as well. Not screeching or doubling down like you. Just whimpering. Holding on to the door frame. Then you feel Jimin storm past you. Stopping between you and Liya.

“What’s… fuck Liya? Lil? Wh-what’s happening?” Jimin’s voice is nothing but a white noise ringing in your ears. Can hear him talking but nothing makes sense. It’s just pain. You think you’ll faint. You think you’ll die. Don’t even realize you’re crying. Gritting your teeth hard to endure the unrelenting pain. Jimin just stands there. Stupidly. Head snapping from you to Liya. From Liya to you. Oh, if you’re in your right mind, you’ll realize how much of an ironic, comical, hard, yet stupid position Jimin is in. In a position where he has to choose between you and Liya, even when nobody asked him to do so. You don’t know what he’d have done eventually. Your weakened body doesn’t allow you enough time to find that out. You make the decision for Jimin. Make the decision when your legs finally give up. When your knees hit the marble floor with a crack. Well, you certainly make him realize that the person in more pain is you. He is crouching down next to you in a blink. Your face in his hands.

“Fuck Lil, are you okay? Hey, hey, talk to me. Where does it hurt?... No, no stay with me huh? Wa-wait... I... I need to call an ambulance.” His hand leave your face as he fumbles inside his pocket. You can’t really comply. Don’t think you can talk. You can’t breathe. You can’t. It’s too stuffy. Your head will explode. You need to go outside. One of your shaky hands reach Jimin. Touch his hand barely. Yet his attention is on you immediately. “What? What is it?” Asks. Even with your blurred sight you can witness the panic in his face.

“O-out... I... o-out.” You don’t think you’re making any sense right now. But that’s all you can do. Jimin nods.

“Out? You want to go outside?” Cups your face in his hands again. You nod. Nod through your tears. Watch Jimin throws a worried glance toward Liya. You follow his line of vision. Find Liya still upright on her feet. Eyes on you two. Obviously in pain but nowhere near you. She is in pain but you’re dying. You’re positive.

Jimin says nothing when he picks you up from the floor. All of a sudden. Probably thought the same thing as you did. “Just a moment, I’ll be right back.” He mutters to no one specifically before starting toward the door. You in his hands. He meant the words to Liya. You all know that. He’s supposed to be with her. Not you.

Not you at all.

……………………………………..

“You can go back inside Park. I’m fine now.” You say to Jimin while sitting on a comfy couch in the lobby. And you’re telling the truth. The pain you felt starts to subside immediately after you left their apartment. There’s still a slight sting. But nothing unbearable. You’ve dried your tears with your T-shirt a long time ago. It’s been more than fifteen minutes since you and Jimin have been out here. And that’s not good.

“No. No, I won’t just leave you. I thought you were fucking dying Lil. I’ll stay here till he arrives.” He glances at the entrance. Is pacing around like a maniac.

“I’m fine Jimin. You need to go back to her. She was in pain too.” You gesture toward the elevator. Feeling so fucked up.

“Ah shit, why the fuck does he takes so long?” Jimin ignores you completely. Only if you can stand up and stop him from tiring himself out. You just feel too weak to do so. You’re waiting for Jungkook. The only person came to your mind who could help you in this deteriorated situation. Jimin had to go through a little bit of a hassle to contact Jungkook. You not being much help. He had to reach Taehyung first. Had to yell at him for asking stupid questions. Luckily, however, he had the contact information. You guess it might’ve been a great shock to Jungkook when Park Jimin reached him like that. Jimin didn’t really give him any details, just vague and asked him to come as soon as he can. Jungkook being Jungkook, said yes. Now you’re waiting. Have been for fifteen minutes.

“I’m serious Jimin, it’s not okay for you─”

“I know, okay, I know. I know I’m supposed to be there. But just… let me make sure you leave with him. Safe.” Jimin snaps. Making you shut your mouth. This is so fucked up. More fucked up than the fact you just entered her house, laughing and smiling, just after having each other cum so hard. You need Jimin to leave. That’ll at least give you a little bit of peace, in your mind. But then you don’t want him to leave at the same time. His presence is comforting. You’d be lying if you say you aren’t scared. Because you are. Hell, you are scared for your life. Jimin makes it bearable. Then she might be scared too. It’s so wrong for him to be here when she is his girlfriend. Even though, now you’re partially scared of what might happen next. Back on the track, aren’t you?

How ridiculous that you brought all this shit upon yourself. You made her come here. And for a fact, you know that unbearable pain has everything to with her. That odd lady explicitly told you as long as you’re here, she can’t be. Then you didn’t heed, now did you? You’re playing with a fire that you can’t even see. What’s next? Will you die? Is that what she meant when she said only one space is there for one person. That you can’t share Liya’s space with her. Will you be in this pain forever? Was this your doing at all? It should be. Liya wasn’t here until you wished. Fuck, that was a wish. No matter, how ridiculous it sound. That was that.

You still don’t know the answers for half the questions you have. Two things, however, are certain. First, this all happened because of a wish. Second, you and Liya can’t share that same space.

You look at him again. With the intention of persuading him one last time. Even though you don’t want to be alone. You are just about to open your mouth when a sudden movement at the entrance catch both of your attention. Jimin stops his pacing abruptly. Head snapping to the person who enters through the already opened glass door of the lobby. Jungkook’s eyes land on you instantly, as he stops briefly for a moment. Then he is storming toward you.

“Finally.” Jimin mutters under his breath. A sigh of relief leaving his pink lips. Jungkook reaches you and Jimin. Stopping just a few steps ahead of you. Eyes wide and mouth adorably hanging open. Glances between you and Jimin for a moment. Confused. Fixes his eyes on you in the end.

“Noo-Noona?” Jungkook practically whispers that. Still, you hear that. He looks uncertain. As if he’s trying to figure who you truly are. Well, that’s very fair. You crack a very forced smile. A painful one. Raise your hand or try to do so.

 “Hey, Kookie!!” Mumble. Jungkook sucks in a breath. It’s like you’ve given him a proof to believe you’re you.

“Fuck, it really is you.” He says again. More to himself than to you.

“Uh... can you?” Jimin interrupts Jungkook’s daze impatiently. Of course, it’s time you should free him. Jungkook averts his gaze to Jimin. “Can you like, uh… look after her. She was in pain─”

“Pain?” Jungkook looks back at you. Brows furrowed.

“Yes, pain. She is okay now but... I can’t─”

“You should go now Jimin.” You can’t really take it to see Jimin guilt tripping. Not wanting to leave but wanting to do exactly that. He shouldn’t feel guilty to leave you. No, he shouldn’t. “I’ll be fine now. Jungkook’s here.” You gestures to the poor boy. Standing there and taking your exhausted figure in. Jimin looks you straight in the eye. Startles you when he crouches down before you suddenly. Takes your hands in his.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” He isn’t just speaking with words. Is doing it with his eyes as well.

Oh, fuck.

“Of course, I will Jimin. I’m fine. Look, he’s here now. You really need to go to her.” You free your hands from his grasp. Not because you don’t like the feeling. Just because it feel wrong. Oh, so utterly wrong. “Go.” You repeat. Jimin’s eyes fall down to your hands. At the way you just refused his touch. Say nothing though. Just nods. Stands up and turns to Jungkook.

“Text me your address.” Says to him as he gives you another glance. Jungkook agrees. You want to ask Jimin why he would want that. But he is already walking away. Backward. Eyes lingering on you. You hate this painful tug you feel at your chest now. Which has nothing to do physically this time. You don’t want Jimin to leave you. You keep your eyes on him until he turns around. Pushing on the elevator button. Till he rushes inside it. Till he’s no longer in your sight. You were so immersed in Jimin that you didn’t even sense that Jungkook has replaced Jimin’s place on the floor. Crouching down. Peering into your eyes. He takes your hand this time. And you don’t reject.

“You okay Noona?”  

You just smile.

……………………………………………

Jimin is pacing inside the small, confined space of the elevator. He should’ve taken the stairs instead of this. That could’ve helped him to ease some nerves. Which is exactly what he needs now. Pacing around this tight space like a headless chicken isn’t helping him at all.

He hates so many things right now. But what’s so fucked up is that he hates having to leave you with another man. Hates that he couldn’t be there at the most needed times. Hates that this other man is Jeon Jungkook of all people. You wanted him. Jimin wanted to leave you with Taehyung. Wanted to leave you in a hospital. Well, you were you. Stubborn you. Said that Jungkook knows everything. That serves enough reason why he should be the one to come. Jimin couldn’t argue at the end. Had no other options but to agree.

See this is what exactly he was afraid of. Why? Why on the earth he is feeling this way? This was what happened at the day you woke him up that night. He was more worried about you leaving. More than the misfortune his own girlfriend was facing. It doesn’t mean he gives no fuck. Because of course he is worried. Was worried. Even now he wants this damn elevator to reach his floor faster. There’s so many scary what ifs haunting his mind.

Gimin groans loudly. His fingers threading through his hair. He thought it was the fucking sexual tension. That aching desire to have you. Then there’s no reason to be jealous. Fucking territorial. And he had you. These burning sensations should’ve dissapeared by now. Why on the hell he asked you to stay? And then asked you to make sure Liya has her life back? Now what? What a mess he has made.

He lets out a breath when the elevator finally stops. Is practically running across the hallway toward his door. Praying to God that she’ll be okay. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave her alone like that. Simply you needed more attention. More than Liya. Right? Then he should’ve come back to her the moment he knew you were okay. Now what will he say to his girlfriend. What’s his reason for taking care of another woman?

A mess. All this is. He made this mess.

He barges inside like a hurricane. Running straight to the lounge. Is about to turn to the kitchen when his eyes land on Liya. Sitting on the couch. Seemingly okay. Jimin can’t begin to describe the relief he feels. She raises her head at the sound of his footsteps. Looking at him with alarming eyes. Those eyes. The eyes he fell in love with once. Don’t you have the same eyes? She stands up. Immediately. Bridges the distance between them and when she does that those eyes were gone. Replaced with just fire behind them.

“What the fuck is happening Jimin.” Liya screeches as she stops just an inch away from Jimin. Runs her hands through her hair. “Who- why? What… God, why did she look exactly like me. Jimin. Who─ It hurt like hell, why- why was she feeling that too.” Liya is stammering in bad way. Her breathing is getting shallow and fast. That’s no good. Jimin knows how this might feel. He knows it. Just doesn’t know what to do. So, just wraps his arms around her. Hugs her tight.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay Liya. It’s okay. I’ll explain. Calm down…shhh… it’s okay.” Mumbles into her hair.

……………………………………………

It was fairly easy to calm Liya down. She has better control of herself. It’s just that. Now Jimin is watching her laugh. Laughing aloud.

“Seriously? You want me to believe that?” Asks through her giggles.

“Yes, I want you to do that. Because, how else you’ll explain that? Explain her?” Jimin gestures toward the door. Liya’s laughter dies down. Slowly. Then silence fills the room. For a long minute before Liya breaks it.

“I- I don’t know. I mean how’s that─”

“You know Liya. C’mon you know. I’m pretty sure you felt the pain. Just at the right time you saw her. And what? You think she’s just someone who exactly looks like you? You think so?” Jimin leans forward. Is sitting on the couch. It was frustrating to explain some shit about parallel worlds. Felt stupid. Yet he had to do that. There was no other options he could choose. Liya doesn’t say anything in response. Just sighs.

“Okay so let’s just hypothetically─”

“No hypothesis Liya, I’m telling the truth.” Jimin doesn’t mean to snap but it’s really frustrating. Can understand how you might’ve felt all these times. First him, and you said how it went with your best friend. Oh, he understands you completely now. Liya knits her eyebrows in pure annoyance.

“Okay. All right. So, you’re telling the truth. I just met my alternative counterpart from a different universe. Okay, I mean I can’t deny I felt the pain. Can’t deny I felt like I was looking at a mirror. It felt super weird.”

“Exactly.”

“So, is this the reason why I’ve been missing on those meetings, lunches, the reason why I couldn’t remember some things? That wasn’t because I’m having─”

“No, you’re not sick. It’s because of this. Because you were disappearing every other day.” Jimin interrupts her vent. There’s no point of hiding ot from her now. He feels like shit. Heavy.

Fuck!

Another uncomfortable silence. Jimin can’t look at her. Feels his throat constrict.

“Okay, yeah.” She puffs a breath out. “Then how long Jimin?” Breaks the silence again. Jimin expects her to ask that question. Sooner or later. Yet he feels like he can’t answer.

“Uh- like couple months.” He mumbles weakly. Barely audible. Eyes fixing upon their opulent coffee table.

“Months?” Liya grabs Jimin’s sleeve. Softly. Trying to get him to look at her. “What do you mean months? Tell me how long, exactly?” She shifts in her position. Her grasp tightening. Jimin reluctantly glance at her.

“Like almost two─” Liya’s gasp is what interrupts him. She lets him go. More like her arm falls limp.

“Two? T-Two months? For heaven’s sake Jimin.” Scoffs. Her calm expression morphing into storm within a blink. Stands up. “And you let it happen?” Looks at him in pure disbelief. Under very different context. Where Jimin hadn’t done exactly that. Let it happen. This could’ve been his breaking point. The accusation! He would have stormed away with gritted teeth. In this context, he can’t. It makes him scowl, nonetheless.

“It wasn’t under my control, you know.” He mutters. Trying to mask his guilt. Trying to act natural. It’s getting harder and harder by every passing second.

“Why did you lie to me?” Liya changes the course rather fast. Kind of looks like she doesn’t know what to ask first.

“I fucking didn’t lie to you.”

“Well, you kept the damn thing a secret. You knew what was going on all along and you let me believe I’m sick.” Liya steps to her left. So, she can face Jimin properly. Forcing him to avoid her piercing gaze. Wincing at her accusing tone. How hard it’s to hear what she says just because it’s true. “You knew I was worrying about not remembering stuff and you just let it happen Jimin. Did you even try to stop that- whatever this thing is.” She gestures between her and the door. Referring to you. Her voice raising with every word. He needs to stop her. Can’t listen to the bitter truth.

“Of course, I did. We- did. We tried our best. And I kept it a secret because you wouldn’t have believed me Liya.” Jimin finally finds the courage to look at her. Shame burning him inside out.

“How would you know that?”

It’s Jimin’s turn to scoff.

“Really? How would I know? We’ve been together for fucking five years Liya. You would’ve called me crazy. Even now you don’t believe it completely, I know that a part of you still thinks I’m crazy. You only believe it because you saw her, you felt the pain and all those shits.” It’s not Jimin is trying to find a way to win this fight. No. But it’s not a lie. That’s the reason why he didn’t tell her. At least before he became selfish and wanted you. Only you.

Fucking idiot!

Liya doesn’t say anything right away. Takes a deep breath. Rubs her face. Starts pacing around. Jimin feels like laughing aloud. How ironic. How funny she does exactly same things as Jimin. How you and she are not similar to each other at all. You hate it. Pacing around. And yet, you’re the same person. Liya stops. Turns to Jimin.

“You say you tried? Well, you clearly haven’t tried enough considering she’s still here. And what were you doing with her this morning anyway?” Questions. Jimin feels blood drains out of his body. Heart stopping. Guilt. Fucking guilt.

“She needed uh... help.” Jimin tries to gulp sneakily. Not wanting to act guilty.

“Help?” She quirks one of her brows. “Like earlier? Did you leave me alone, Park Jimin?”

“Oh, c’mon she looked like she was dying.”

“SO, WAS I!”

Silence. It’s eerie silence. And they just staring at each other. It’s too quiet Jimin can hear his own heartbeat booming in the spacious lounge. For a fact, he knows Liya wasn’t in pain anywhere near you. But does that justify his actions?

“We need to stop this shit Jimin. I was in fuckin pain, and I don’t think that’s a good thing. She- whoever she is clearly has messed with my life enough.” Liya grits. There’s an unexplainable look in her eyes. Liya is a smart woman after all. “This needs to stop. I won’t just sit here and watch her mess with my life.”

Jimin opens his mouth to argue. Finds no words, however. Liya gives him a one last look and storms away. Leaving Jimin to just sit there. To reflect on how he fucking messed up.

………………………………………….

“So, now she is here? It didn’t work, but the real Liya is here? And you both felt a severe pain when you met?” Jungkook blurts out. Holding a hot cup of coffee for you. You’re sitting on his couch. In your spring roll state. You struggle to take your hands out, nodding in confirmation for his question.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Noona.” Jungkook mumbles as he gives you your coffee. Your eyes snap to him. Wide. Head starting to shake.

“No! Why are you apologizing? How is that your fault?” You scowl.

“I was the one who gave the idea about a damn wish.” He plops down on the couch next to you. Your heart sinks. God, you feel like a two-faced lying bitch. Jungkook never was wrong. He gave you the right idea. You’re the one who used it in the wrong way and now you’re deceiving him. The person who didn’t even judge you for your wrong doings. Do you even deserve to be here. With him. You feel your head pounds.

“No. No Jungkook. It’s not like that, I mean it wasn─” You’re so glad when the sudden knock on his front door interrupts you. You don’t want Jungkook to believe it was his fault. Nor do you want to tell him he was right, and you did this to yourself. Jungkook furrows his brows as he looks at the door. “Uh- are you expecting someone?” You ask as you follow his line of vision.

“No….   but maybe it’s Jimin.” Jungkook stands up. You watch as he reaches the door. One hand pushing his wild hair back. You don’t think it’s Jimin. There’s no way he can come this quick. You can’t even think about how much of a mess it must be in his home now. Explanations. Apologies. Questions. Oh, poor Jimin! Your assumptions quickly turn out to be true. The moment Jungkook unlocks the door, the door nearly slams into him. Makes you visibly flinch in fear that it hits him. He dodges it luckily. Couldn’t dodge the little body collides against him, however. Pair of arms circling around his neck.

“JUNGKOOK…. My fucking best friend!” J’s voice echoes through the confines of Jungkook’s apartment. He lets out a whine in complaint at how hard J is hugging him.

“Okay, fuck, all right.” Jungkook finally manages to push her away from him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Questions from a J who gasps so loud. A hand going to her chest.

“Yah! Since when do you ask me why I’m here. I’m here because I have no life bro.” She answers. Turns around, grinning from ear to ear. Only for that grin to drop down when her eyes fall on you. She takes a split second in surprise. Then that wide grin is back on her face. “Miss. Liya!” Exclaims loudly. Already starting toward you “You’re here? Fuck, I didn’t believe Joonie when he said Kookie made you wash dishes─” Her words float away. You don’t know if she has stopped talking or you can’t hear her. Despite wanting to show a similar kind of enthusiasm to see her, which you’re genuinely feeling, that pain is rising again. Clouding your other senses. This time it isn’t painful like the last time. Nor is it sudden. But the pain is there. Slowly but surely becoming unbearable.  Making your breathing ragged.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck Noona… Are you okay? It’s the pain? It’s happening again?” You catch Jungkook’s concerned face peering at you. Can only nod in answer. Hear J saying something.

Why are you back in pain. You’re not in presence of Liya now.

You could’ve figured an answer out if it wasn’t for the piercing pain. A moment of peaceful thinking would’ve been enough. It’s a good thing that Jungkook can still think clearly. Worried out of his mind, yes. Yet he grabs your hands tight. You can only watch stupidly in pain when his eyes darted to J, who’s looking at you beyond horrified.

“She’s not Liya.” Jungkook states. Sternly. As if just those three words make all the sense in the world. J scowls at him. Confused. Hell, even you with your pain are looking at him with knitted brows. “She is not Liya, J.” He repeats. Then to much of your horror, just causally say your name loud. Your real name. Which only makes J’s scowl deep.

“What? What are you talking about? Take her to a fucking hospital Kook.” J crouches down beside you. “Or call her boyfriend, friend, assistant, or whoever the fuck can help her.” Looks at Jungkook like he just grew a third arm. Then her eyes are on you. “Are you okay Miss. Liya? Should we take─”

Jungkook’s words make a sudden sense to you. That pain intensifies like a surge.

It happens because J called you Liya.

You faintly hear Jungkook practically yells at J. Forces her to call you by your real name. She looks confused. Utterly so. Scared. But in the end, she does as she is asked. It takes more than a few minutes. It’s agonizingly slow. How the pain subsides. When it does, however, you’re facing a J who looks a bit pale.

………………………………………

Learning things in a practical way, in experience, is a good thing. The best way to learn. But not in all settings. It’s utterly foolish to jump off a cliff to learn you’ll die. Especially, when you’re just a mortal human being with one life to spare. Similarly to your situation now. It was quite literally brainless how you made your decisions. Driven entirely by your emotions. Fucked up emotions in that case. And on a pure bliss of a mind-blowing orgasm. It was moronic how you or Jimin, didn’t stop to think how the results of your stupid decisions will be. You didn’t wait to think what you’ll do if Liya is really here. No. You just let a man who’s in a relationship fucked your brain out. Then you just jump right into the fire pit he shows you. You decided to jump off a cliff just to see if you'd survive. Turned yourself into a lab rat.  

Now here you are, sitting at a cleaned table of Kim’s restaurant. Feeling weak after two unrelenting chest pains. Not quite feeling like doing anything but sitting still. Paranoid. Petrified. You don't think anyone fears death until they realize it can actually happen. Until then they would make joke about it. Like you always did. But after those two unbearable painful contractions, you think you’re close to death. Yes, you are. You’re certain. Oh, it’s no longer a joke. Even the thought of it makes you shudder. Death is scary.

See, after so many talking with Jungkook- while completely ignoring a J who looked like she was close to slap herself- you came to only one conclusion. The same one. It’s simple. You can’t share the same space with Liya. It’s just not being able to stand in Liya’s presence. It’s sharing her space. Well, now you don’t know what’s the end. Death or not. But Jungkook doesn’t think you should put yourself into stupid testing anymore. As he said, no one wants to find out what will happen. You need to find a way to go back to your world. To stop this. Then till you’ll find a way; you need to stay alive. That’s how Jungkook came with this idea.

The idea is letting everyone who once knew you as Liya, know your real identity.  At first you were so against it. Until you came down here, met Jimin. He was the one who manipulated you into doing this. What a complicated thing Park Jimin is. He broke your heart when you came up with the idea of doing same. Then now he’s the one who wants to do it. You didn’t expect to see him so quick. But then as Jungkook referred to it, this is a life and death situation. Dramatic. Yet you couldn’t argue. What if you really die? You really had no chance to talk to Jimin alone. To know what happened. It happened so fast. Few calls here and there. That’s all it take to make this restaurant crowded with eleven people. Annoyed people, at that.

“So, what is it? I swear to God Hoseok if this is just─” Yoongi starts but is interrupted with a gasping Hoseok.

“It wasn’t me for fuck’s sake. Do I look like I have time to play with you.” He scowls at Yoongi. Points at Jimin. “He dragged my ass here. And made me think the world is ending. Or our business is bankrupted… wait! Are we…?” Gapes at Jimin.

“What? No?” Jimin clicks his tongue.

“No guys.” J butts in. You look at her with panic-stricken eyes. She is the only one who knows you’re not Liya. Not being long since she knows. Apparently doesn’t believe you. Thinks you, Jungkook, and later Jimin have lost your minds completely. You’re here to let them know the truth. Partially at least. Yet still you feel paranoid to say it aloud. Afraid of judgments and the looks of betrayal. J ignores your glance. Ignores Jungkook’s weak attempt to stop her. It should be you who tell them. It’s a rash decision when you jump into your feet. Drags J back with her arm. Take her place.

“We- uh... I wanted to let you know that I’m not Liya.” Blurt out. Hold your breath. Expecting them to break into a one loud noise. Only to meet with silence. Dead silence. And ten pair of eyes on you.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna kill you, Hoseok.” Yoongi stands up, the chair scrapping against the floor. Try to reach Hoseok over the table when he dodges Yoongi’s move.

“What the fuck, how’s this my fault.” Hoseok whines.

J turns you. Shrugs her shoulders. Gives you a I told you so look. You nervously glance at Jimin, who is staring at the ceiling. Shifts your gaze to Jungkook, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. Jimin is the one who interrupts the pointless arguments flow over the place. Yanks Taehyung back with his collar. Who is trying to steal a can of beer.

“Oh, c’mon let me at least have a beer after you ruined my night.” Taehyung complaints to no avail.

“You drink, you pay for that shit, all right?” Namjoon throws a fair warning at Taehyung. Falls in the deaf ears, however. Jimin lets Taehyung go.

“Fucking hell.” Curses. Takes a deep beath. “Enough!” Shouts. Effectively grabs the attention of everyone. Drags you to his side. “This is not a fucking joke, you little gremlins. She’s telling the truth. She- she’s not Liya.” Waits for moment if someone decides to butt in. No one does. So, simply explains further. Who you are. Again, just to meet with silence. Until Seokjin breaks it. You catch a brief glance of Namjoon’s curious gaze on you before Seokjin takes the spotlight.

 “Who now? I mean what the effing hell are you talking about Jimin-ah?” Demands. Jimin opens to say something but is cut off by Jungkook. Making his way to the table from where he’s been standing.

“That’s the truth Hyung. She isn’t Liya. You just need to believe that.” Tries to make this easy for you and Jimin. Yoona is the one who sighs this time.

“I really have no time for this bullshit guys! I had to left work early for this and what?” Throws her hands in the air. Everyone joins in agreeing with her. For a moment, you’re pretty sure they would walk away. All of them look like they’ve been scammed. Annoyed. Mad. Not interested in you in the slightest. The air is filled with the buzz created by everyone talking at the same time.

You look at Jimin helplessly. He groans. Maybe you should try one more time. You and Jimin both open your mouth at the same time. Yet, never get to say anything when the sound of the door chime echoes. It’s late and the restaurant has been closed long ago. Every head snap to the door curiously. Jungkook nearly walks forward to let the newcomer know that they’re closed. He doesn’t, however. Stops dead in the track when his eyes fall on the person who just entered. Gasps. You do the same. And then everyone else follows suit. Eyes wide and gaping at real Kim Liya.

“Hey!” She mumbles awkwardly. Clearly not comfortable with all the eyes on her.

“What the fucking……….” Seoyeon, who has been awfully quite for all these times, shouts aloud.

At the same time, you wince in pain.

……………………………….

Liya’s arrival is not welcomed. At least not in the beginning. Jimin just swirled past you like the wind the moment she uttered that ‘hey’. Jungkook’s hand wrapped around you at that exact moment. You fell into another fresh blur of torment. And like that, the expected chaos unfolded. J and Yoona were screaming in Jungkook’s ear. Demanding they should take you to a damn hospital. Someone nearly choked themselves to death. You’re positive you heard something shatter. God knows what. For a second everyone acted like mad cows. Until Liya took the matter up in her hand. Wildly explaining to an audience- who acted like they’ve got infected with Rabis- that you told the truth. It took time. Painful time on your side. In the end, however, Liya gave you what you were looking for. A distinct identity apart from her. You became your own person.

Just like that, Kim Liya solved your problem. Not that it relieved you of your pain instantly. No. Still, at this moment you’re in a lingering pain. You can see nervous and worried glances that reach toward you here and there. Making sure you’re really fine. Yet it worked to some extent. And everything seemed to be working. Peaceful. Then it’s not. Not when Liya ended her explanation with the word ‘Twin’.

“What?” You’re the first one to choke that out.

“You had a twin I didn’t know about?” Seoyeon looks betrayed. Exactly how Key looked when you told her the truth.

“What is this? A melodrama? A twin shit? And weren’t you just dying a minute ago?” Yoongi groans, sipping on his third beer can. Gestures to you with his beer.

“I- I’m really fine Yoongi.” You mumble. Your voice really doesn’t quite reach Yoongi.

“Wait? So, it wasn’t Liya that day?” Namjoon shifts the course entirely. Mouth hanging open.

“What day?” J and Yoona question in unison. You watch Namjoon goes to explain them that how he knew that you’re not Liya. Even though he didn’t believe it then. Some people pay attention to his ranting when Seoyeon directs your attention to her.

“Answer me Liya. You had a fucking twin that I didn’t know? How’s that possible? Was she born yesterday?” She grabs Liya’s arm. Shaking her slightly. You throw a brief glance at Jimin. He looks torn between worried and relieved.

“What? Yes, and not I had Seo, I have. I have a twin.” She points at you. You gape at her. A wise way to explain your looks. But that demands so many questions. Hoseok disturbs next whatever question Seoyeon is about to raise.

“It was you who was at the cottage, wasn’t it?” He asks from you. See, more questions. Endless. Now what will you say? You can’t help but glance at Liya. She glances at you. Brows furrowed. A realization hitting hard on her. Then she is looking at Jimin. Jimin who looks alarmed and tense. Oh, this is not good. You still don’t know how it went between them. 

“No, Hoseok, it was me. Why would my sister join a party with my boyfriend?” Liya is quick to butt in. You’re glad though. Just nod. Avoiding her gaze.

“Right?” Hoseok scoffs. “Of course, it was you, Ms. Kim.” He steals Yoongi’s beer. Much to the dismay of the owner of that beer. A tense silence fall down. You keep your eyes focused on your lap. Fidgeting with your fingers. Your throat is dry, and it has nothing to do with the pain. Feel like you’re about get caught.

Fuck!

This is why you should think twice before doing shit. Why couldn’t you?

“Can I have a minute?” Liya’s voice in that stretching silence forces you to take your eyes away from your lap. “Sister?” She adds that as you look at her. Puts unnecessary weight on the word. You have no time to worry about others being suspicious about it. Not when you’re already starting to panic. Eyes landing on Jimin, meeting his eyes. He jerks up. Nearly says something to Liya when you beat him to it.

“Yeah sure.” You don’t want Jimin to intervene. Liya nods and steps out. Slowly. Calmly. She is too calm for her own good. You ignore the protests Jungkook is making. Just give him a smile. Start toward the door when your arm is trapped in Jimin’s fingers.

“Lil, you don’t have to.” He whispers. So, only you can hear.

“It’s fine.” You whisper back.

…………………………..

It’s cold outside. You’re wearing a jacket Jungkook lent you, but your legs are freezing out here. And it’s weird. Super weird. To stand out here, facing a different version of yourself. There are so many similarities. But then there are differences. Her hair is long. She looks fresh. You don’t think you look that fresh. She looks mature, like she should. She is a CEO while you’re still a college student figuring your shit out. If you have time, you can make a long list of your similarities and differences. But beyond being weird, you feel sacred. Like a student got caught doing something illegal. In front of the principal. Ready to be expelled from the school. Your heart is pounding. Mouth is still dry. Feel that shame and guilt on your shoulders. Heavy.

“Isn’t this nice, to meet another version of yourself? I’m intrigued. It’s a shame that my boyfriend kept you a secret from me, isn’t it? I wanna know everything about you, I bet you know everything about me after you fooled everyone pretending to be me?” Liya softly speaks first. Directly into the topic without any pleasantries. And she speaks softly, yes, but the harsh undertone isn’t hidden. The accusatory tone. Oh, you shouldn’t let her get to you.

“It’s not that we had any other choice.” You croak.

“We?” She snickers. “You mean, you and my boyfriend? You’ve teamed up?” Quirks her brow. She is fucking intimidating.

“No, not like that. We had no other─”

“No yeah, I get it.” She sweetly states. For a moment you really think she gets it. But then she continues. “You had no other options, yes. But you could’ve said no when you were invited to a party on my behalf.” Shrugs. “That’s okay, though. Not that you can change it. I’m pretty sure you had no ill intentions. Right?” Smiles. You gulp. “You just helped uh…a friend?” Twists her mouth as she looks to her right. At the restaurant. You follow her actions, meeting everyone’s eyes on you through the glass walls. They all immediately turn around, pretending to be minding their own business. Then two people still don’t. Jimin and Jungkook. They keep their eyes on you. You turn around. Paying your attention back to Liya.

“I don’t think I understand your point.” Say weakly. Liya shifts her gaze onto you as well. Chuckles.

“Yeah? Okay then let’s cut the bullshit and get to the point. What I’m trying to say is that you and my boyfriend wasted your time here.” Her calmed expression morphs into something serious. Angered even.  “I don’t know what you did or not. I’m completely in the dark here, I can’t remember anything, where I was during all those times, what I did, nothing. I can only piece things together from here and there. From what Jimin told me and what I can hear from these people. And then I felt that pain too; I felt it back at our apartment and now. Had to hide it because nobody’ll believe in a twin telepathy now, would they?” Sighs. “Listen, I really don’t want to be the enemy of myself... like... you know... you’re me...” She gestures between you two. You try to say something. She doesn’t let you. “I really don’t know what’s happening and maybe I don’t care, all I care is that you’ve messed with my life for too long. I talked with Seong, heard about these couple times when you managed my business for me. Thank You. But I want you to understand that this is not your life and if this pain means anything, and if I have picked up the pieces correctly, you’re not supposed to be here.” It sounds like a question.

“I- I…” You start, not knowing what you should say.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just listen, I think my assumptions are correct, before you and I met you weren’t in pain. Then now we both are. But you’re in more pain than me and I’m guessing that’s because this is my life, not yours. So, maybe we can’t share this life, which mean you need to go back. I really don’t want another version of me in my life. Besides, even though you’re the one in most pain, I don’t want to risk it. Look, I don’t think you really tried all these times. To stop this or to find a way.”

“That’s not true. You weren’t here to see that.” You finally manage to get something out. Because she is getting on your nerves. She chuckles again. Or scoffs. Sounds like sweet venom.

“I wasn’t now, was I? But you’re still here, messing things up. And that pain─” She points at your chest. “─tells me, you can’t keep going. So, here’s the deal, I just helped you. Or more like I’ve given you some time, but I don’t think that’s a permanent solution. You’re still in pain, aren’t you? You don’t have much time it seems, so, just use the time I brought you to do everything you can to stop this. I’m telling you this because I believe this entire thing is on you. You are the one who remember everything and lived two lives. If it was on me, I would’ve stopped this a long ago.” Looks you dead in the eye. “I hope you understand what I’m telling. That’s the point I want you to understand. I helped you, now it’s your turn to help me. Go back. Quickly. Nobody wants you here.” With that, she turns on her heel. Stepping inside back. You just stand there. Frozen. For a moment before you pull it together. Almost trip over a rock as you follow behind her hurriedly.

“Wait! How did you know that I wanted my own identity.” Stop her in her track. She only turns slightly toward you.

“I didn’t, I just guessed. After hearing you were doing just fine before you met me, I guessed that might be the case.” Turns fully to face you. “You know what? Maybe we are not the same because I use my brain all the time. It’s your time to use yours now.” Smiles at you so affectionately. Yet makes you shiver. She is threating you. Simple. Just the way she made you her twin she can make you Liya again. Can put you in that pain again. You have one option and one only. You need to leave.

…………………………….

You watch in silence when your friends, or their friends start to trail off one by one.

Taehyung bends down to your height to take a good look at your face. Is obviously drunk. Hiccups. Whistles.

“Can’t be-lieeevee this shi-shit.” Slurs.

“What? What can’t you believe?” Jungkook shows the drunk man away from your face.

“She looks exactly like Liya.”

“Yeah? That’s how twins work man.” Jungkook snorts.

“No…. No, no, no. Th-this is di-fffrent. What I’m saying isss, you─” Taehyung points a wavering finger at you. “are… Liya.” Oh, he is too drunk. How the events have turned. “It was you who hugged me though right. She’ll ne-never, never do that.” Straightens up to look at Liya. You want Taehyung to stop this. Some people have already left. Yoongi being the first to wish goodbye. Asked you not to die. Then he was followed by a red-faced Seokjin and of course, equally drunk J. Now Namjoon is ushering Hoseok inside a taxi.

Your eyes stop on Jimin and Liya. He didn’t ask you about what Liya told you. Liya didn’t really give you a time to do that. Has been practically glued to Jimin’s side ever since you returned inside. Or Jimin didn’t try to talk to you. He hasn’t made any efforts after all. Can you blame him? That’s where he should be.

Jungkook was your company since then. It looks like you’re spending the night on his couch again. You sigh sneakily. There’s a heaviness inside you. Feelings you can’t fathom. You feel something burn inside you every time you catch Liya and Jimin. He catches your eyes here and there. Only to look away and that was that. Well, that’s where he should be but then he asked you to stay. Said he wants Liya to have a normal life but still want you here. Does it matter now? Things have changed. You’re in pain. And there’s a deal you and Liya made. Or a deal she forced upon you. You never agreed but you’ve no other options either. It’s a do or die situation. You snap your eyes to Jungkook, who abruptly gets to his feet. Jungkook drags Taehyung away.

“Okay, that’s your call.” Shows the cab just halted in front of the building. Seoyeon gets to her feet as well. Wishes goodbye to Liya. Gives you a tight-lipped smile. “You’re fucking harassing her.” You hear Jungkook mumbles to Taehyung as they are stepping outside. And Taehyung saying something incoherent in return.

Great, now you’re alone. Just with Jimin and Liya. Yoona is nowhere to be found.

“We should leave too baby. I didn’t drink. I’ll drive.” Liya softly says to Jimin as she stands up. Fuck, your heart sinks. Why’s this? Why do you feel so hurt. Jimin’s eyes nervously land on you. You avoid that gaze. “C’mon.” Liya urges him. For moment it looks like he might stay behind. Talk to you. Say something that’ll sooth your heart. Then of course, it’s a wishful thinking. Says nothing when he gets to his feet. Gives you a lingering, and longing look. Slowly follows Liya. Leaves.

You watch through the glass walls. He looks back few times. Then is getting inside the car. You watch Liya rev the car. Pulls out. Watch she drives away. With Jimin. Watch Jimin leaves with the person he should. Fuck, you’re hurting. Fuck, you feel like screaming. Screaming him to stay. You don’t. Just stay put. Gulping down the lump inside your throat.

It’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine. Maybe this is that second chance you get. To do everything right. You can make it right. Will leave Jimin and Liya to live their life peacefully. Right? Like Liya said, nobody wants you here. Not even Jimin. He was probably asked you to stay under the influence of his own emotions. Good orgasm. Now he’ll see clearly. And when he does that, he won’t want you here.

It’s not him who should make things right. It’s you. And you’ll do it.

Make It Right.

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a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy @floboo6 @sunshinenmidnight @fiddlebiddls @unlikelycheesecakeenthusiast @mar-lo-pap @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @datspjm @shakes0peare

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.70)

(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The pack meet with Moonbyul to discuss terms.

Tags: Fluff, drinking and drunk characters, hurt/comfort, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, brief sexual content, oral f. receiving, Exhibitionism, car sex, Talks of mental disorders, implied/confirmed autistic jimin,

W/c: 12.1k

A/n: Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok are leaning over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.

Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. the need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.

Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that tae tied in his hair.

You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technice to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree.

It changes from wrestling to tickling. and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, Ganging up on your mate who takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.“

You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you, and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house. 

You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he fingers the gauze there.

"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say. 

Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” he asks. 

“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking, staring at his downturned eyes. The way his eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, pad across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby). 

"So should I consider that a four or-" 

"No, this time I'm being honest," Namjoon stiffens, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth. 

Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there and leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.

“Do you notice?” He asks, you swallow. Eyes itchy. 

“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there. 

“Still dry.” He says. 

You think of the mice, of drowning, you don't pull your hand from Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't let you anyway. You think about the mice, of dying, of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here. 

Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. “Still dry.” You agree. 

Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Pulling himself between your thighs where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat. 

He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact. 

“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does. 

“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it. 

Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a second, he loops his pinky through. 

Coming Saturday May 18th at 5PM EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[jade-len]

so today i tricked my very straight male friend into reading svsss.

okay look, i wasn't planning to at first and it's not like it was completely my fault. he wanted to read it!

i was showing him how badly they fucked up mu qingfang in the donghua by comparing it to the english novel design (he said that mu qingfang went from looking like a soft dilf to a predator registered on the epstein island list). and then, i showed him how different some of the other character designs were like gongyi xiao's ("he looks like he'd be a genshin character" -friend, to eng novel design) and luo binghe's ("lowkey, he kinda gives airbender vibes" -friend, to bunhe eng novel design)

so that was all i was gonna show him, nothing else. but after seeing them, he goes, "these designs actually look hella cool. what's the book called?"

now, do i:

A. tell him the name, eventually revealing that it's a danmei when he looks it up?

B. just straight up tell him that it's a danmei?

C: don't tell him the name just yet, spill the summary, get him interested, and tell him to not search anything up about it because there's heavy spoilers and it will reveal them the moment he types it up on the search bar

i go with C, obviously.

me: so, basically, some guy named shen yuan transmigrates into an incel harem male power fantasy novel where the protagonist, luo binghe, has hundreds of wives. thing is though, the guy pretty much took over the body of binghe's teacher he had when he was a teenager, who turns out to be a really scummy dude. and now he has to be nice to him so that the protagonist doesn't rip off his limbs and put him into a pickle pot in the future to suffer for eternity.

friend: that sounds hilarious and horrifying at the same time.

me: yes it is, and you should read it. it's like. my favorite novel at the moment. but don't search up anything about it because people spoil that shit. i'll let you borrow my novel

friend: nah don't worry, i'll just pirate it

friend: wait. does it have pictures?

me, my plan coming together: yeah, it has pictures. buuut, when you pirate it, it doesn't. trust me dude, i tried and was severely disappointed. plus, the physical copy is so much better

friend: fuck yeah ok thanks

me: hold on though. i'll text you later to see if my friend who's borrowing it rn is done reading it

he's hyped. he's excited. he craves a good book and a good transmigration interpretation. he's especially happy about the fact that it takes place in a chinese setting with cool powers and an actual good main character. "this sounds so good, god i wanna read it so bad."

i tell him that binghe is actually adorable, too. that it's pretty much found family! my friend then asks if shen yuan adopts him and becomes a father figure or something.

and i said "yes". you know, like a liar. (the father figure part probably isn't a lie though)

now i'm gonna give him the novel tomorrow! of course, i'm gonna cover the chapter 2 bunhe sexual awakening scene with washi tape and say that my baby cousin (sorry baby cousin, you would never <\3) scribbled all over that paragraph with her markers, and since i'm a neat book freak, i put washi tape and just wrote the scene! i don't know if that's really all too believable, but he didn't seem to care that much. just a simple "if my baby cousin did that to my book i would punt them into the sun"

i think what'll be more hilarious is the fact that you can't really tell that svsss is a BL. especially not volume 1. there's like, only a few lines indicating, but if you remove the baby binghe sexual awakening scene then you probably won't be able to know (...if you don't really read romance or anything. idk he's kinda dense anyways). so let's hope he gets attached and has a slow descent into the homo before i drop svsss vol 2 on him!

ok anyways i'll update you guys later with a reblog. maybe in about two or three days lol

(also don't worry, we already fuck around with each other on a daily basis like this. he's already tricked me into reading some manga i was unprepared for, and i thought that it'd be funny to mess around with him using svsss this time lol)

[silverynight]

Welcome home

Chapter 1 (of 5)

It's been a year since Izuku reconnected with his childhood friend, now pro hero, Bakugo Katsuki.

He has changed a lot... in a good way. When he found out Izuku got a job at the same agency he works for, he went straight to the analytics department to see him and talk to him.

Izuku had to ask for a break and meet Katsuki outside; he was nervous then, but he realized quickly he didn't have to. All the pro hero wanted was to apologize for his past behavior.

They started over after that and now they're really good friends and Izuku is very happy because of it.

There's a lot of things in his life that have improved since he got that job, actually.

He gets to meet a lot of pro heroes, yes, most of them are kind enough to go to his department and see him in person rather than only communicate with him via text or earpiece.

Aizawa promoted him after a couple of months and now Izuku handles most to the mission and investigations; he chooses quickly which pro hero (based on their quirk, availability and experience) is the best to deal with the situation at hand.

He really likes his job because even though he doesn't do the hero work directly, he gets to help the pro heroes in a way.

He also hangs out with Katsuki a lot; he met his friends the first week after the apology and went to his apartment for the first time fifteen days after that.

Ashido says that it's weird for "Blasty" (as she calls Katsuki) to spend so much time with him right after meeting him again, although she has this smirk on her face whenever she says it that makes Izuku flustered for some reason.

However, Izuku thinks it's perfectly normal; whenever they're together, it feels right, like they never stopped seeing each other and have been good friends for years, ever since they were kids.

"It's still weird," Kaminari says when Katsuki goes to the cafeteria counter to get Izuku a coffee and a bagel. "It took us a year to get invited to his apartment."

The way his friends (because Izuku considers them his friends now) look at him make him feel flustered, but he doesn't do anything to hide the blush on his cheeks like he used to do in high-school whenever he was embarrassed.

Now he just hopes it goes away quickly.

"Well, that was years ago," Izuku says, trying to dismiss it. Katsuki told him he bought his fancy apartment two years after he started working as a professional hero. "Kacchan has changed."

Izuku got really shocked when he found out he owned that apartment, but he knows the pro heroes get very well paid, especially when they get brand deals. It also helps that Katsuki is the number one hero currently, although pro hero Shoto is right behind him.

"He doesn't trust most people," Kirishima points out, like he's trying to tell him something. Then his expression turns into an amused one as he sees Katsuki approaching them again. "And he's certainly not the type to bring anyone food."

"Kacchan's just being nice!" Izuku says as the three pro heroes look back at him like he's crazy. Yes, Katsuki is not that nice on a regular basis, but that doesn't mean he hasn't improved. "I told him my ankle hurts a bit because I rescued a cat and fell right after I managed to get him down from a tree."

Fortunately, the mention of the cat makes them focus on that instead, and suddenly Izuku finds himself showing them pictures of it.

Katsuki sits right next to him, and Izuku sighs in delight after taking the first bite of his bagel.

"How much?" He asks after a while.

"I don't know," Katsuki makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I paid for your stuff and mine together."

"But surely they gave you a receipt–"

"No. Just drink your damn coffee, nerd!"

"Thank you, Kacchan," Izuku says, trying not to roll his eyes; sometimes Katsuki does stuff like that, he seems determined to pay for every little thing Izuku wants when they go out together.

"Also, I'm going to drive you to your apartment..."

"There's no need–"

"You're hurt," Katsuki argues and the green haired man knows that expression really well; there's nothing that can change his mind now, no matter what Izuku says, the pro hero will take him home no matter what.

Izuku realizes right then that it's the first time Katsuki sees the place where he lives; they always go to Dynamight's apartment or to a coffee shop, a restaurant or somewhere else when they hang out.

"Please, tell me you're joking," Katsuki hisses as he parks his expensive car right outside Izuku's building, the one that looks like it's been sitting there for hundreds of years and is about to collapse under its own weight.

Or maybe that's not why the pro hero is frowning that much; his red eyes are scanning the area like the worst kind of villain is about to pop up from the dark alley next to Izuku's building.

"It's not that bad," he assures his friend. They have tried to rob him only once, maybe twice... but he survived!

Well, maybe he shouldn't say that out loud.

"Shit!" Katsuki hisses. "I thought they paid you well! What the hell?"

"They do!" Izuku assures him. "But, uhh... you see... I'm kinda tired of paying rent so I've been saving some money to buy my own place somewhere else. However, if I want it to happen soon, I need to stay here for a while."

"I'll buy you a new apartment."

Izuku chuckles, but his smile falls when he realizes Katsuki is not joking at all.

"I appreciate the offer, but there's no need, Kacchan," he smiles.

Katsuki is still grabbing the steering wheel like he's very tempted to drive away from there. His knuckles are slightly white, perhaps because the grip of the wheel has tightened considerably.

"Izuku, this is not a safe place." He's deadly serious, and by the tone in his voice, it seems like he's about to snap, but he's trying to control himself.

"I can take care of myself," he hears himself saying, slightly irritated. Katsuki is not the only stubborn person in that car.

"Alright..." Katsuki doesn't deny it, but Izuku can tell that he doesn't like the situation at all. "If you want to save for your new apartment, perhaps you can live with me in the meantime. You'll save even more money because you won't have to pay rent anymore."

Izuku's face turns slightly pink at the thought of living with Katsuki. A memory returns to him in that moment; when they were kids, they had promised each other they would live together and work in the same agency as a hero duo.

But that was before Izuku found out he was quirkless.

A long time ago.

"Kacchan, I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but I can't accept–"

"Please."

He's sure the pro hero has seen a lot of awful things during all those years working as Dynamight; Izuku has access to a lot of cases, and even though the information is sometimes haunting, he knows there's nothing compared to seeing it happening or arriving at the crime scene.

However, this time Katsuki is overreacting. Sure, the place is not the safest one, but it's not like there's a murder every single day.

Besides, his neighbors are very good people.

"I'll think about it," he finally says, mostly to reassure him.

However, it doesn't work. Katsuki keeps looking around, growing tense.

"You should stay with me tonight. I'll make katsudon if you do."

The offer is really tempting, but Izuku knows it's because Katsuki is imagining horrible things happening to him in that place. Things that are not real.

"I'll be fine."

"Then I'll stay with you."

The fact that he's almost begging makes Izuku's heart beat in a funny way inside his chest. Surely, they are friends now, but it seems Izuku really had no idea how much Katsuki cared about him.

Until now.

"My apartment is tiny and I don't have an extra futon–"

"I can sleep on the floor."

"Kacchan..." Izuku leans closer, placing a hand on his broad shoulder. "Listen, take a deep breath. Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise. I have lived here for over two years now. I know this place, and I know how to take care of myself."

Katsuki nods as he relaxes... a bit.

"Alright, but I won't go until you enter that building... no, I won't leave until you text me you're inside your apartment."

Fine. He can agree to that.

"Okay, Kacchan."

***

Two days. It's been two days since Katsuki found out where Izuku lived and whenever he's not with him, he calls him. A couple of times a day.

It's okay, at least he hasn't "kidnapped" Izuku and taken him to his apartment, even though he clearly wants to.

"Hi, Kacchan. Yes, I'm in the office and nothing has happened to me," he mumbles joyfully as he keeps filling a couple of reports for Endeavor's agency.

"I call because I somehow got used to your nerdy voice, and now I miss it constantly," Katsuki grumbles. There's a weird noise coming from his side that makes Izuku frown for a moment.

"Sure, Kacchan," he rolls his eyes because he knows the pro hero can't see him. Maybe he just imagined it. "I suppose you're on patrol so before you–what was that?"

"Shit!"

There's an explosion on his side. This time Izuku is sure of it.

At first, he gets worried as he immediately goes to the database, and then the status section until he finds Dynamight's profile.

"Are you okay?"

"I got everything under control," Katsuki assures him and even though he's clearly using his quirk, Izuku can tell he's being honest.

Then, he gets irritated. Especially when he reads the status and remembers the important mission Izuku assigned to him started today.

"Did you call me during a mission?"

"Izuku, I'm clearly busy here..."

"Alright, I'll end the call."

"No, wait! Is Hatsume there yet?"

Just as Katsuki says it, the head of the support department rushes into Izuku's cubicle.

"Hello, pretty!"

"Hi, Hatsume!" Izuku perks up, smiling at her; she's always a mess, but it suits her somehow.

"Great," Katsuki sounds relived.

"Wait, how did you know–"

"I'm sorry, Izuku, I have to go. I'll pick you up in a couple of hours, alright? Don't get out of the office!"

Katsuki ends the call before Izuku has the opportunity to say anything at all.

He's so distracted arranging everything for the pro hero from Endeavor's agency who'll be coming to work on a case with them and, at the same time, thinking about what he's going to say to Katsuki when he sees him again that he doesn't realize Hatsume is in his personal space until he hears a click.

Suddenly, there's a very beautiful golden chain around his neck, it's not exactly tight, but not as loose as other necklaces he's seen.

It's honestly beautiful, especially with that black X in the middle covered in orange and green gemstones.

Izuku is sure Hatsume made a mistake; if he had to guess, he'd say it looks like a fancy necklace that's probably part of Dynamight's new merch collection or something.

"Uhh... Hatsume?"

She has a tablet in her hands and is typing something so fast it makes Izuku feel a little envious; his job would be slightly easier if he could type that fast.

"I sent an email," she says, without looking up.

A little bit confused, but intrigued nonetheless, Izuku takes out his phone again and opens his mailbox.

It has the agency logo, so Izuku supposes that's something official and relaxes a bit.

He starts reading and then...

"A tracker?"

She chuckles.

"Don't worry, it doesn't activate unless you're in danger. This is for your safety. The standard ones send an alarm to the agency so one of our pro heroes can go and rescue you or help you in case you need it."

Izuku has read about these in a couple of files, although he doesn't know much about them. The ones he looked at seemed completely different from his.

Besides, they were just for very important people... politicians, idols, all kinds of celebrities and scientists if their lives were considered to be in imminent danger.

Also, for obvious reasons, pro heroes' families.

But Izuku was neither of those. He decides to ask Hatsume, but something else makes him worry.

"This looks really expensive."

"You bet!"

"But–"

"It's already paid for, obviously," she says, typing something before the necklace makes a noise and a green light appears in the middle of the X, although it vanishes quickly.

So it's from the agency? Maybe. Although Izuku knows he's not that important to be given something like that. Sure, he handles a lot of information, but it stays in the computer he uses to work on in the office. Besides, neither he nor his coworkers wear uniforms... they aren't given anything that can be linked to the agency for the same reason.

They're not usually the villains' targets. Izuku has never seen a report that mentions an office worker being in danger.

But he admits he's not an expert in that area, perhaps they give something like this to everyone who works there.

"Why Dynamight's logo?"

Hatsume looks at him before chuckling.

"You're funny, Midoriya."

Getting slightly frustrated, Izuku tries again with another question.

"How can I take it off?"

Even though she's the one with crooked goggles on her head and stains of grease all over her face, she looks at him like he's crazy.

"You're not supposed to take it off, ever. It'd defeat its purpose."

"I mean... to take a shower?"

"Oh! Don't worry, it's waterproof!"

At least he finally got a little bit more information about the necklace.

"Uhh..."

"Sorry, I'd love to stay and chat with you, but I have a lot of work to do and I'm sure you do too!" Hatsume says, already waving him goodbye, and looking down at her tablet at the same time.

Izuku sighs and looks down at the device around his neck. He likes the Dynamight symbol, even though he has no idea why she picked that one specifically.

He knows these have to be a secret; the general public can't know about them, so perhaps making it look like expensive merch was her goal?

Yeah, that's probably it.

And she chose Katsuki because it's not a secret Izuku is good friends with him so him wearing his merch makes sense.

He nods to himself, mostly because he doesn't have time to look for more information on that.

He still has to tell Aizawa that Endeavor's office hasn't sent the name of the pro hero who's coming in a few days.

They have to work with them in that particular case because even though they started the investigation, the villain has moved to the zone assigned to the pro heroes who work at Endeavor's.

It'll probably be fine.

***

Next--->

Patreon

[lousypotatoes]

I'm Happy Again

Song Recommendation:

Rhapsody in Blue - George Gershwin

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11

90 years ago...

It had been almost 2 weeks since Y/N had called into the radio station. She had called in ever since.

"Ah, my dear Y/N! How lovely it is to hear your voice!" he exclaimed on the other side of the line. "The usual tune?

"Not this time, Alastor," she giggled into the phone.

"Oh?" Alastor said curiously. "What song would you like to request then, my dear?"

"Mhmmm, how about Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin?"

"Ah, another splendid classic!" Alastor said. "You sure do have a wonderful taste in music, Y/N,"

"Oh, cease your flattery sir," she gushed. "You're makin' me blush."

"You'll hear Rhapsody in Blue right after this song, darling," Alastor said smoothly.

"Thank you, kindly,"

"Of course,"

The flower shop was really busy, it being Mother's Day, everybody in there, whether it was a father with his children, or single men, were all picking out flowers for their mothers.

It made Y/N feel warm inside. She wanted so desperately to have children of her own to give her flowers.

"What's the rate for these tulips?" said a voice.

Y/N turned and saw a very handsome man with dark skin, brown air, and glasses. His voice seemed so familiar, but she couldn't think of where she had heard it.

"Oh um," she stuttered. "Three dollars per stem, sir."

"Terrific," he said, handing her the money.

"I presume those are for your mother?" she asked kindly, taking the money.

"Yes," he smiled. "Tulips happen to be her favorite."

"Your mother has refined taste in flowers then," Y/N giggled.

Alastor looked at her, after a moment his eyes widened.

"Y/N?"

She looked at him, surprised he knew her name. Then it hit her.

"Alastor?"

"Oh, what an unexpected surprise!" Alastor exclaimed. "It's a delight to finally meet you in person, my dear." He extended is arm out for Y/N to shake.

"Thank you, Alastor," she said, taking his hand and shaking it. "I never expected to meet you in person, let alone at my flower shop."

"Well, I do have a knack for surprises," he chuckled, letting go of her hand. "How are you on this lovely morning?"

"I'm doin' quite well, what about you?"

"Oh, I'm peachy!" he said. "This place looks wonderful. It really is quite impressive."

"Thank you kindly, Alastor," she blushed. "Is this your first visit to the shop?"

"I've frequented here a few times before," he answered. "But I only really come on Mother's Day."

"That's quite understandable," Y/N said. "You should visit here more frequent," she said, feeling bold.

"Perhaps I will, my dear."

"Have ya'll finished flirtin'?" someone behind Alastor rudely said. "I need these flowers bagged up.

"Oh, yes right away, ma'am," Y/N said quickly. "Will I be seein' you again soon, Alastor?"

"You have my word, Y/N," he smiled at you. "Have a lovely day, my dear."

"You as well, Alastor," she said as he turned around to walk out.

sorry that this chapter is shorter, I have a lot to write today lol.

stay safe and drink lots of water, it's hot today.

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@slytherin4ever @trippoverrt @maksdust

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 5: His very own lighthouse

genre: honestly who even knows at this point - angst, fluff, comfort, EVERYTHINGGGGG

word count: 5961

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: things are happening too fast– it's been nine days of this madness and, once again, everything just seems to continue to spiral. but sometimes, in the midst of all the darkness, you find some light, and that is enough to make you keep going.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: sorry for the delay on the update, but it's finally here! I'm excited to see this story evolving! what are you excited about with this chapter? Let me know in the comments! <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments!

“Knock, knock.”

The hospital smells of rubbing alcohol and plastic and it’s all a really weird experience. On one hand, you have kids books, three or four that you managed to get from the store before Spencer got you out of there. On the other, you have flowers with a card signed by both you and the boy genius that couldn’t come with. Very last minute, Spencer had gotten a call from Agent Hotchner and he had to go to the office, but he had been kind enough to drop you off to see Officer Kaper. s

“Miss Y/L/N!” He smiles from where he’s laying in bed, daughter tucked under one arm and wife by the other. “Sweetie, this is the nice book lady I told you about,” The baby girl eyes you up with that shy nature you love some much in kids. It’s a quiet kind of judgement that you fly by with a smile, slowly approaching and turning the books towards her. 

“The book lady brought more books!” You whisper, trying to keep the energy in the room positive, but not too excited. Spencer had said this was a minimal injury case– apparently Officer Kaper was at home when the break-in happened and he kept his wife and daughter safe, but had gotten injured while doing so. Stabbed, to be more precise. And although you can’t see the stitches, you can see the large bandage around his torso. Gulping, you look away, finding that his wife’s sweet smile melts your heart. “Hello. It’s really nice to meet you, I’m Y/N… and I’m… I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, no,” His wife smiled, shaking her head before coming to you and grabbing the flowers so delicately. “You have nothing to apologise for, this is not your fault.” She takes the books too, smiling at the silly little drawings in the cover before giving it to her husband.

You’re not really sure what to do in there, with this family that looks oh so happy despite the circumstances. Have you ever been that happy just to be around someone? 

Yes. 

“Y/N, let’s go! We’re going to be late!”

There is a tired drag of your feet underneath you, but you still smile, giggling at the dramatic reaction when he sees you in your dress. “Oh stop it,” You mumble, applying a final layer of lipstick before turning to him and saying, “I’m ready.” 

“And I’m the luckiest man alive,” He mumbled, kissing your forehead sweetly before opening the door to go call the elevator. That is the kind of man he is– someone who likes to be prepared for everything, who predicts what will come his way and plan accordingly to be two steps ahead. At first, it’s impressive, seeing how ready he is to deal with whatever life throws his way. It makes you puff your chest proudly and say ‘that is my man.’ But then it feels a little bothersome, really, not being able to have a thought to yourself without his curious hands prying it open and public. You can’t have anything just yours, because Josh wants everything to be his, and suddenly’y he is not your man, but you are his woman. And that doesn’t sit right with you. 

For now, though, when everything is great and amazing, anything he does has you smiling; even if your feet hurt in the too tall heels, even if your can’t breathe right in the too tight dress– you smile. Because Josh likes you smiling and you love Josh when he likes you. “And I’m the luckiest woman in the universe.”

“The entire universe?” He mumbles, smiling and pecking your lips with a calculated kiss that doesn’t blur your makeup. 

“The entire universe.” 

“That’s a big, big universe you’re talking about…”

Later on, you’d find out that even though yes, the universe is big and so much of it still goes undiscovered, sharing it with him makes you feel very, very small. 

“How is Officer Kaper doing?” Spencer asks once you step into the car. You look at him with an empty look in your face that makes him sigh. You’ve been like this since the news broke last night, alienated from your own self, and he hates it– he hates seeing the light in your eyes dim and the way your lips struggle to stretch into a smile. “Y/N?”

“Sorry,” You mumble, shaking your head to try and get your jumbled thoughts in order. “He’s uh, he’s okay. The nurse said he got lucky, which I don’t really see how, I mean, he was– he uh, got stabbed. With a knife. So not really lucky of him, in my books.”

“But he’s okay,” Spencer repeats, reaching out to lace his fingers with yours, and you’ve never held onto something so tightly like you did then to his hand. “Y/N, he’s okay. In the mean time, I’ll be in charge of your protection. The higher ups have deemed this an active case now that someone’s got injured and–“

“Wait, what?” Your head snaps to look at him, eyes wide. “Was it not an active case before?!” 

“Not officially,” Not even his soft voice can make you feel better. “It was for me and my team but… not for Strauss. That’s our section chief, she’s… complicated. Bureaucratic.”

“And there is nothing in the fucking FBI bureaucracy about considering a case of an innocent civilian being stalked by a serial killer active?” Scoffing, you pull your hand away from his as if his touch burned your skin, suddenly too aware of your situation. “What? Are they waiting for me to die or something? For her to finally get me? What the fuck, Spencer, why didn’t you tell me this before?” 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He says quietly, eyes glancing at you for a fraction of a second before moving back to the traffic ahead. “And I still don’t. It’s going to be okay, I pro–“

“Don’t,” You say through gritted teeth, head swimming in the growing amount of information you are struggling to process. “I know you mean well, but please don’t promise me anything, because I… Spencer, right now, you’re the only person I trust, and if you promise me something you can’t keep, I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

The craziness of it all doesn’t escape you. When you were a kid, dreaming of fantastical adventures, this surely wasn’t what you had in mind. Spencer, as cordial and gentlemanly as he is, is not the perfect prince you hoped for and you, all tears and judgments, are far from being a princess. This is real life; it’s raw, and burning, and stretching, and painful, but it’s yours and you are determined to make something out of it. And whatever it is that you are making, this can’t be it. You refuse to let this be the one big event that forever determines the rest of your life. 

Takes you a little while to notice that you’re not quite going to his apartment, and your heart flutters. The thought of those beloved green walls used to make you smile. It was a glimpse inside the world of Spencer Reid, your favourite customer– of his plants, his books, his odd addiction to the colour purple showing in the smallest of details, in the pillows, the blankets, the place mats left and forgotten on his counter. The excitement is still there, though, and you will do virtually anything to keep it alive, but… but just like his walls, that spark of giddiness inside of you whenever you enter the place now is smaller. Faded. Muted. You feel guilty, admitting that yourself, and that guilt morphs into something akin to embarrassment. Sitting next to you is a man who is doing everything and anything to try and keep you safe, and yet, you just can’t find it in yourself to be as positive as he seems to be. Hope might be the last one to die, but eventually, it dies. You wonder if yours was just never there to begin with. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, looking at him for a brief second. There is a lot going on right now, specially between you two, and even looking at him is hard. Whenever you do, eyes lingering on his sharp jaw or his messy hair, you remember yesterday. You remember his hands holding you close, and his breath hitting the back of your neck. You remember how you felt, all warm and tingly everywhere, and you remember how you imagine he felt by the way his heartbeat drummed against your back. But yesterday is not good only. Yesterday is not just emotions and ease and comfort, because yesterday was also day eight of this nightmare. Day eight that marked the beginning of a new week in this torturous purgatory, baiting you with the happiness you could have but seemingly never would. “Spence?” 

He exhales, letting something heavy within himself go, when you call for him. “We’re going to the BAU. Hotch asked me to bring you in so we can ask you some questions, if you feel up for it.” 

You don’t feel up for it, but you will not tell him that. Not when it finally feels like people are finally starting to take this seriously. “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” You gulp, nodding and already digging in your bag for your ID. At this point, you know the drill, thanking the front desk man twenty minutes later when he gives you your visitor’s pass. 

“Y/N!” 

It amazes you, really, that in the midst of all of this, you still manage to make a friend. Penelope is an obvious choice, though you wouldn’t even say you had much of a choice anyways. At first you thought she had gotten your phone from Spencer, wanting to provide you with some encouraging words and a shoulder to cry on. But after learning more about her job, you know for a fact that she probably pulled your number from whatever database she could. The whole thing starts after that day in her office, with you sending her a quick apology for the entire thing– you crossed the line asking to see Cat Adam’s photo and Spencer took it even further by screaming at her. Just as you thought, Penelope is quick to forgive and forget, and since then, most of your conversation consists of memes and borderline sexualised comments about Agent Derek Morgan. You even get some pictures, though you are too scared to open them fully. From the small preview you can see on your phone, these photos are not meant for your eyes, and even know, when Agent Morgan smiles at you and Spencer walking in, you can’t help but blush.

“Are you okay?” Penelope asks, brows wiggling with knowledge that Spencer would, hopefully, never get. You don’t imagine he would be all to pleased with you seeing pictures of his co-worker shirtless, though you are still too scared and careful to admit to yourself the reason why he wouldn’t be all that happy about it. The higher the climb, the harder the fall, and you’ve fallen enough for Spencer. “You’re all red in the face and looking a little bit spooked there, Y/N. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’re embarrassed. But my oh my, what would you have to be embarrassed about?”

Staring at her with your mouth hanging open, you blush even further, chortling out something akin to laughter mixed with an indignant squeak. “Penelope!” Your whisper-scream is not as subtle as you think it is, and both men look at you with curiosity all over their faces. 

“Do you girls want to share with the class?” Derek asks, stepping closer to you which makes you step closer to Spencer. It’s a weird chain reaction that leaves everyone but Penelope confused, and you want to kill her and thank her at the same time. It seems that she is the only one trying to bring some normalcy back to your life. 

“Not particularly, no,” Penelope takes the lead and you’re happy to let her, purposefully ignoring Spencer’s squinted eyes on you. You know that look– you know many of his looks, actually, but that specific look is his thinking look. The one he got whenever you tell him something about celebrity drama or fan-fiction writers. Whenever Spencer has that look, you usually smile wide, knowing that it’s his own way to tell you he’s paying attention to you. Right now, however, you want him to look away and pretend you don’t exist. “Though I’m easily convinced, my hot, cho–“

“Nope,” You intervene, hands shooting to cover your ears. “Stop! Don’t you dare!”

“Aha! I knew it!” She laughed, and while you walk inside the bullpen that is now, unfortunately, familiar enough, you two bicker like children. 

“What’s going on?” The way your head snaps to the women sitting by a desk is enough of a tell for Spencer to know you are about to freak out. 

“Guys…” He tried to stop them, and you have so much faith in him that he will that your eyes sparkle for a second. It pains him to see that light within you turn off when the women clearly ignore him. 

“Emily, JJ,” Penelope giggled, rushing to their side, phone in hand. “I sent this to Y/N and–“

“Oh wow,” Emily laughs, shaking her head and looking at you with pure and raw sympathy. “You have now been through the initiation, you’re officially one of us. Congrats, Y/N!”

“Yeah, Penelope sent me those pictures on my second days as a liaison,” JJ winced, laughing nonetheless. “I will admit it made my first week very awkward.”

“What initiation?” Derek is Spencer’s opposite. Penelope has told you about them before, about their friendship, about how Derek, despite the teasing and the overbearing duty to protect his friend, was always there for little boy genius. While Spencer is silent thinking and careful calculations, Derek is quick action and instant reaction. It’s a sight to behold, those two together, and you smile when Spencer nods vigorously. 

“Yeah, what initiation?” He is looking at you because he knows you’re the one most likely to crack. 

But this time, you hold your ground, shaking your head and pursing your lips. “I–“

“Miss Y/L/N.” The mood shifts instantly, and you even feel a little bit bad for the two man walking towards where everyone has suddenly gone still. 

“Agent Hotchner, hello,” You mumble, smiling as best as you can under his gaze. 

But then something happens. 

Something changes. 

And his eyes soften. “Thank you for coming. I am sorry that it took this long for the higher ups to clear us for a full investigation of your case, but now we have proof that Cat has a partner and they they are escalating.”

“Escalating?” Little by little you learn about their vocabulary. It’s not something that any book you’ve read has touched on and it feels eerily realistic to be saying those words yourself, like you have been transported inside a book you’ve never even wanted to read. 

“It means they are evolving their methodology of… attack,” Emily words gently, trying to explain it as softly as she could, but not even the sweetest of voices or kindest of gestures could take away the fright of this entire thing. “They are getting bolder, and so they might try something that, otherwise, they wouldn’t.” 

“O-Okay,” You whisper, frowning in thought. “But, and sorry if this is a stupid question, but what is making them bolder? It can’t just be out of nowhere, right?” 

“Spoken like a true profiler,” JJ smiled with a pat to your shoulder. “Behaviour changes this drastic usually have triggers, and something triggered this. We don’t know who this partner is, but they were bold enough to try and break into a police officer’s house. This means they are reckless. Impulsive.” 

“What if it was pre-planned?” You ask, missing how Spencer looks at you with a huge smile. Having you interested in his job is better than having you hate his job, and he would take this over the other any day. “The attack.”

“We can assume it wasn’t, since Officer Kaper showed up halfway through the break-in,” Derek concluded. “Meaning the attacker didn’t account for him coming home.” 

“But you said Cat Adams is calculated,” You turn to Spencer with wide eyes– things are starting to click in your brain and you need him to know you’re not just putting all the weight on his shoulders, you need him to know that you’re trying too. “You said she plays mind games.” 

“She does,” He mumbles, holding back a smile made for you and you only. His hands find your shoulders, rubbing it up and down to try and hold back the energy he knows is accumulating inside of you; whenever you get too excited about something, be it new books or a new sale, you like to ramble a little about it, and every time you do, you bounce on the heel of your feet, up and down, up and down, up and down. “But Cat also targets men. Cheaters, specifically. And… and fathers. She has deep rooted issues with her father–“

“Cat Adams has daddy issues?” You deadpan. 

“–and her downfall is her projection. So yes, they are getting bold as a duo or… or her partner went rogue.” 

“Which one is better?” Looking at Hotch, you wince a little at your own joke. “None of them, got it.” 

“Since this is an active case, we will need your constant collaboration,” Hotchner says, guiding the entire team to a room up the stairs and, as naturally as the sun sets and rises the next morning, everyone found their place at the round table. 

Except you. 

You are not one of them. You don’t have a place. 

Or you didn’t. 

“Y/N, come here,” Spencer says, pulling an extra chair next to his. And that’s when you realise that in this weird dynamic group of people who knew way more than they should, you belong next to him. 

“Thank you,” You mumbled, nervously shoving your hands between your thighs and waiting for Penelope to take the lead. That seemed to be her thing, even if she stands out like a sore thumb in that beige room with her bright orange dress and neon blue heels. 

“Okay, fellow brainiacs and dear beloved Y/N. Let’s figure this out,” Her declaration makes you feel somewhat calmer, the sounds of buttons echoing in the room. The TV goes bright with pictures– of you, of Spencer, of Cat. Her eyes, tempting you closer with the prospect that she knows something you don’t, won’t let you look away until Spencer forces you to, his hand sliding down your arm to find yours. You’re not sure if he realises how intimate this is, specially with his co-workers surrounding you two, but you don’t push him away. Instead, you open your legs a tad, just enough to let his hand slider between your clasped ones. Just like a vine, you lace your fingers with his, and then press your thighs back together, caging him there and refusing to let it go. “Cat Adams is currently in Mount Pleasant Women's Correctional Facility serving time for countless of murders. A week ago–“

“Nine days,” You say without thinking and immediately shrink in your chair when all eyes brush over you for a second. 

“Yes, thank you! Nine days ago our dear boy genius got a package sent to his apartment while you all were out on the Oklahoma case, and since he had asked Y/N to water his plants, she ended up being the one who signed for it. We assume that’s when Cat got to know of your existence. In that box there were a bunch of, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, sexual uh, sexual paraphernalia. After that, Y/N has been under protective custody with either Officer Kaper or Reid himself. However, yesterday, Officer Kaper’s house has been broken in by a suspect we are yet to identify,” Pausing for a breath, she clicked on the remote control making photo after photo pop up. Once she has a picture of the box, though, contents on show for everyone, you look away. Even the slightest sight of it has your blood boiling. “I’ve pulled all cameras I possible can leading to Officer Kaper’s house, but most of them had been turned off ahead of the invasion. They also didn’t receive anything, no notes, no packages, nada.” 

“That is inconsistent with their MO,” Emily hums, turning to look at Spencer. “But then again, her main target is Reid, so I doubt Cat would diverge from that. She is smart, but she also likes that he knows she’s taunting him.”

“We also know that Cat doesn’t know about the bookstore,” Spence says, squeezing your hand so naturally that nothing in his face gives it away. “Her note went straight to Y/N’s home. The box went to mine. It is safe to say that she has no clue about Y/N’s personal life outside of what she shares with me.” 

No one says anything while they all stare at him, you included. “What?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” By Derek’s tone of voice, you know some teasing is about to come. “And just what do you two share, pretty boy?” 

“I-I mean– no, I didn’t mean it like that,” Spencer’s face is fire red, and though he tries to pull his hand out of yours in a moment of panic, you don’t let him. “I di– Morgan! I meant… I meant outside of what we shared.  Past tense. She has been staying at my place for nine days, so we’ve shared nine da– Morgan stop laughing! Hotch!”

At this point, even you are laughing at his high pitched voice. “Spence, it’s okay.” 

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay!” JJ repeats and you stare at her with wide eyes. “What?! You two are adorable!”

“Focus, please,” It’s impressive how Agent Hotchner commands the room, demanding the attention back to him with just one expression of stiff frustration. But then he lets his eyes run over you and Spencer, and you notice how the corner of his lips twitch. “And yes, you two are adorable.” 

The rest of the meeting passes by in the blink of an eye. You don’t really catch onto what they are saying, most of it too deep into the field of psychology and behavioural science for a layman like you to be able to participate. However, you do listen to them. Almost like a true crime podcast playing in the background, you listen to the team narrate this entire ordeal and you’re quite surprised to notice the emotions bubbling inside of you– the anger, the frustration, the sadness. The factual tone of their voices sends shivers down your arms, creating the much needed distance from it all that you’ve craved all along… and making it all that much worse. Now that you have the opportunity to look at it from the outside, from their perspective, and you can truly see how pathetic you must be to a team of… of… of super people like them. 

Sliding down the chair, you try to hide yourself from the occasional glance in your direction, but what you seem to miss is the way your hand, clasping Spencer’s so tightly like you might just float away if you let go, shifts upwards between your legs, dangerously close to your crotch. 

“Y/N!” Spencer hissed, head snapping to look at you with eyes so wide you can see the speckles of chocolate brown in the midst of his honeyed hazel pupils. 

“What?” You whisper, almost falling from the chair with how abruptly he turned to you. “Jesus, Spencer, what is it?” 

“You okay there, kid?” Derek asks with a frown so deep you think his brows might jump out of his handsome face. 

“Yup! All good!” But he can’t fool anyone in there, not even you, with his high pitched voice and the way he snatches his arm up and away, hands fidgeting with the iPad in front of him like that would erase the redness in his face. “All fine. Moving on, next steps. Y/N and I will go back to my apartment and–“

“No.” 

To your surprise, it’s not you that say that– it’s Penelope. 

“No?” Agent Hotch asks, brows raised at the technical analyst. 

“I’m sorry sir, but… no.” 

“Pen, it’s fine,” You mumble, nodding with a sad smile. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, and Spencer is too worried to see that you, my little flower, are wilting without your daily dose of sunshine!” She speaks so fast that even Derek takes a moment to fully understand what she’s saying. 

“Baby girl,” He sighs, shaking his head. “I understand what you mean, but the kid has a point. With the partner now possibly escalating the nature of their crimes, Y/N unfortunately needs to limit–“

“Limit my presence outside in public, yeah, I got it,” Nodding to everyone, you exhale slowly, only to take a deep inhale again. One second– that is all you need, one second to gather your bearings again, before slapping your hands gently on the table and rising slowly. With an appreciative nod and a joking tone, you smile at JJ, Emily, and Penelope. “Back to prison for me, I guess.” 

————————————

“Do you want to order some food?”

The whole ride to his apartment, you’ve been trying to get Spencer to talk to you. He’s quiet once his boss lets you two go. Not even the radio can make this a less uncomfortable drive and you are not really sure what is going on.

“No? Do you want me to cook some dinner?” Nothing but the sounds of him walking around the place. 

Doesn’t take too long before he comes back to the living room in sweatpants and one of his sweatshirts, hair even messier and glasses crooked– just a little, honestly, yet your hand still itches with the need to stretch out to him and fix them on his pretty little nose. Before you can say anything, he turns around and goes back to his room. The urgency in his steps makes you think he maybe forgot something in there, but then he comes back out and opens him mouth… only to close it and go back to the room. 

This happens a couple more time before you lose your patience. “Spencer!” You groan, quickly moving to grab his wrist before he disappears again. “Spence! What are you doing?” 

“Do you really feel like a prisoner?” 

His words shock you a little. “What?”

“Earlier you said ‘back to prison for me, I guess’ right after you said ‘limit my presence outside in public, yeah, I got it,’” The way he repeats your words verbatim makes you gasp, blushing out of self-consciousness. 

“Okay, I got it, I got it!” You grimace, still not letting go of his wrist. “I–“ 

Lying to him would be very easy. Sure, he can read your micro-expressions or whatever they are, but living with a profiler has been teaching you a thing or two about what they look out for. On top of that, living with a profiler that makes you heart beat faster with the slightest of smiles has taught you just how to hide what they are looking for… or at least how to try and hide it. So you smile a little, and just like him, you open your mouth without being able to say anything. 

Yes, you can try and lie to Spencer, but the problem is that you simply don’t want to. You don’t want to lie to him, not when he’s been putting such an effort to be truthful and honest whenever he can. 

“It’s not that I feel like a prisoner,” You whisper, looking down at how you hold his wrist so tightly and yet, he says nothing. He doesn’t complain, not even when your knuckles turn white, those eyes stuck on you the entire time. Sighing, you ease up a little, letting your hand slide down until your gently holding his hand again. It makes you brave enough to look at him without wincing in guilt. “It’s just that… I don’t know when was it that protecting me turned into… isolating me. You know?”

Spencer just shakes his head, a little exhale coming out of those beautiful lips almost as if you had pushed it out yourself. “Iso– You think I’m isolating you?”

Oh. “No, Spence, no, it’s not like, it’s not you,” You trying to make him feel better clearly just makes him feel worse. “It’s me!”

“I’ve heart that before and–“

“Spencer, I know you don’t want to isolate me from people. I know that, I really, really do,” Tugging him down to sit with you on the couch, you scoot closer to him to hold both his hands on yours. You two have done this so much at this point that there is no hesitation in reaching out to touch him anymore. “It’s just hard. I’m someone who thrives in routine and I was taken away from mine. I… I can’t work. I can’t go outside. I can’t– it just… it makes me feel a little suffocated.”

It also terrifies you, how familiar this all feels. Trapped, lonely, ignored. Just like before, people talk about you but never with you. They hear you, but no one really listens to you. It’s like you are nothing but a shell of a person, blown around by the wind of other people moving. Of Josh moving. Of Josh moving you, commanding you, caging you. And you have to remember– Spencer is not Josh. Spencer would never do to you what Josh did, he would never belittle you and then apologise with crocodile tears; he would never bring you high up for weeks and then pull the rug with one quick take down; he would never raise his hand at you and much less actually bring it down at you. No, Spencer is not Josh… but you are you, and despite all the changes you managed to fit in the past year, at your core, past the different hair and the new clothes, you are still the same girl who ran packing out of New York City. 

“And I can get a little claustrophobic, and when I get claustrophobic I panic, and when I panic I–“ You stop yourself before you say something stupid. “I’ve been in this position before, Spence. And back then I didn’t have you. I didn’t have someone who was looking out for me like you are, or who just wanted what’s best for me– because I know that’s what you want, Spence, I know you want me to be safe,” The way he slowly nods fills your heart with adoration and your eyes with unshed tears. “Back then I just had someone who wanted me. Like a kid wants a toy. He… He wasn’t a very good man, Spence, and he made sure to scare away all the good people I had, and at one point he started scaring me so I just–”

“Ran away,” And it’s like something clicks for him because his eyes get oh so sad, to the point that you turn your face when a singular tear escapes through your lashes. Offering him a gurgled laughter, you quickly wipe it away. “You ran away to Washington with just a backpack.” 

Nodding, you look up at him again and you’re a bit unsure of what to think of him like this, eyes shinning with something so unfamiliar to Spencer that it just feels wrong. It’s the way his breath picks up, ragged and loud, that makes you realise he is actually angry. No, no, scratch that– Spencer is pissed off. “What did he do to you?” 

“It doesn’t matter, Spencer.”

“What’s his name?” 

“I’m really not going to tell you,” You say with squinted eyes. “You’ll go all FBI on him.”

“That’s the entire point!” There he is, the high pitched voice, wide eyed man you adore so much, wildly gesticulating as he speaks. “People like that shouldn’t be allowed to… to… to be! I–“ Then, his hands fall down on his lap, suddenly lifeless and unmoving. “I–“ It’s like he is choking on words, frowning in desperation at his lack of speech and you don’t know what to do. You’ve never seen him this… distraught. “I–“

“Spence, it’s okay,” You whisper, clasping your hands around both of his like a little cocoon of warmth. This is the first time Spencer hints at the ghosts of his past, but from the way he flinches when you pull him closer, slowly leaning his taller body towards you so you can hug him, tells you that tonight is just not the night to talk about them. For now, you’d hold him, and you beacon him back to the real world with soft words of encouragement, like his very own lighthouse. For now, you’d be light enough for you both, even if some darkness still tries to creep in for time to time. “I’m okay.”

“I made you feel trapped,” He whispers against your neck and you can’t help the shiver that shakes your body. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, I’m just trying to keep you safe. I’m doing the best I can, and I’m sorry it’s not enough.” 

“Hey!” You gasp, and now boundaries don’t mean anything– coyness and slow intentions are thrown out the window as you tug him closer, closer, closer, until he is practically laying on top of you. Your back is against the side of the couch and you stretched your legs, entangling them with him. As much as he tries to move, grumbling something about squishing you, you don’t let him. He needs to know. He needs to know just how much more than simply enough he is. “You are way above enough and you know that. You have to know that, Spence, you have to. Because you’re so incredible and I… I adore you, Spencer Reid. My favourite customer. My FBI agent.” 

All versions of him, all parts of him. You love them all. 

Because, in the end, all that matters is that you love him. You love Spencer Reid. And that’s a little scary. Even it is exciting, it’s still a little scary. 

His little chuckle makes it a bit more bearable, though, and he soon gives into your embrace. The weight of his body keeps you down in the most delicious of ways, and the heat he radiates is enough to have your eyes getting heavier. In the comfort of his home, snuggled up in his couch, hugging him close, you find that there is such a thing as comfortable stillness. There is peace in the unmoving. There is no need to, all the time, be moving. Because there, with Spencer in your arms and his soft breathing on your neck, you think that nothing could in the world could make you want to run again. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel isolated,” He whispers, arms enveloping you like two lifelines holding you close. “I never meant to make you panic.”

“It’s okay,” You mumble back, eyes already closed and nose buried in his sweet smelling hair. “You might have made me panic, but Spence… I don’t think you could ever make me want to run.”

No… Spencer makes you want to stay. 

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[pastafossa]

"You’re who I want." (Michael Kinsella x F!Reader)

Time for Day 3 of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day Three, I chose to combine the fluff and angst prompts ("I feel real when I'm with you" and 'Broken'), and I also decided to try my hand at one of Charlie Cox's other characters for once, that being our favorite sad, tragic, sweetheart of a mobster Michael Kinsella! You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!

Ship: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Wordcount: 2k

Warnings for this fic: mentions of blood, kiss at the end, angst (but with a happy ending obvs)

It was Birdy that called you right as you were getting ready to settle in for the night, the heavy downpour a drumbeat against your windows that you’d hoped would lull you into a peaceful sleep. But that wasn’t in your cards tonight, it seemed. 

“He’s headed yer way. Things… didn’t go well tonight.” 

Not for the first time, you quietly cursed the way the Kinsellas had dragged Michael back into their business as you dug out the first aid kit, setting it beside a change of clothes and a few clean towels to help Michael dry off from the rain when he arrived. You didn’t care what the Kinsellas got up to on their own time, who they sold to and what their family business was. What you cared about was whether Michael had actually wanted this. You knew he'd had different plans when he'd finally gotten out of prison, plans of a quieter, more peaceful life. But he was a loyal man, one who was endlessly devoted to his family, and that loyalty, that devotion was something Amanda was all too happy to take advantage of. 

You had thoughts on her, too, but much like your night's rest, it would also have to wait. 

 “We lost a few o’ ours. He managed ta turn it around at the last second, but… Well, the family argued after. Things were said to him, and…”

Some nights, nights much like these, you wondered just how long Michael had left before he broke beneath the weight of expectation and grim responsibility. It was a burden he shouldered without complaint, even as it became clear he was destined to crumble beneath it. In the two years since you’d met that beautiful, quiet man in a small coffee shop, you’d watched those brittle cracks form, line by line. Over time, as he'd gradually begun to let you in, you’d discovered far deeper fissures that lay buried beneath his fractured armor. Your lack of fear, your absence of judgement over what he’d done in the past, had only pried open that door further until he sought you out with regularity, just as you did him. Time passed, and your orbits revolved closer and closer together, spiraling planets caught inescapably in the pull of each other’s gravity.   

Neither of you had named what this was between you. But if he could find comfort here, safety here, then you’d happily give it. 

 “Just… be gentle with him, dear.” 

Somehow, even the quiet knock at your door sounded exhausted. You hurried out of the kitchen where you’d been filling up the kettle—you’d learned very quickly how important it was to have it ready at all hours when you’d moved to Ireland—and headed down the warm hall to the front door. You unlocked the door and tugged it open, letting in the roaring sound of the pouring rain and a gust of chilled, bitter wind. 

“Oh, Michael,” you whispered. 

He was soaked down to the bone, his dark hair plastered against his skin as he leaned tiredly against the doorframe, his body wracked with shivers from the cold. What was worse: even with the rain, you could still see traces of blood on his shirt and his hands, with more of it leaking steadily from a ragged split on his lip. Fortunately, only the blood on his mouth seemed to belong to him. He tried to throw you a small smile, but it was far too crooked, too brittle to be real, and you had a feeling his eyes weren’t red because of the rain. The moment he realized you didn’t buy the act, that shield fell away, and you were left with just Michael at his most exposed, empty and limp on your doorstep. 

“That bad, eh?” he asked tiredly, trying for dark humor and missing by miles.

“Shit, get in here before you freeze.” You caught his sleeve and tugged him forward until you could shut the door behind him. He didn’t fight you on it physically, for which you were grateful, but he couldn’t seem to resist at least a little verbal stubbornness. 

“I’m gettin’ yer floors all wet,” he said distantly. Without the need to pretend, his tone had gone empty and lifeless, drained of all energy as if he’d used up what little he had left on the walk over. He dropped his head slowly, staring down at the growing puddle of rainwater on the floor, his face twisting through an unreadable expression. “‘M sorry, pet. I shouldn’t have—”

“Floors can be dried, Mikey.” You waved the objection away, locking the door before turning back to Michael where he was still standing shivering in the hall, curled into himself as if he were reluctant to take up any further space, as if he feared he were unwelcome. And something about it, about the way he seemed to barely be holding himself together, just… broke your heart. “Come here.”

He shivered again, even as he shook his head, arms wrapped around himself. You could almost see him changing his mind, a wave of regret rearing up inside him, flashing in the dark of his eyes, eyes still looking too damp for just the rain. “I’ll… I’ll get blood on ya.” “I don’t care.”

He clenched his jaw, still refusing to meet your eye, a sign of just how bad things had gone for him. Some of the blood on his clothes and skin had joined the puddle of rainwater at his feet, the pale tile darkening to a tinted, rusty pink. And that only seemed to make him feel worse, as it seeped into the grooves and lines between each tile, staining it. “No, I-I shoulda stopped ‘a home first, cleaned up. And it’s late, yer clearly dressed for bed. We can talk another time—”

You crossed the distance between you both before he could take a single step towards the front door. He went stiff and rigid, closed off the moment you pulled him into you, but you let him work through it as you wound your arms tightly around him, hooking the fingers of one hand in his belt loops. You had to make it clear you weren’t going anywhere. You used the other hand to stroke gently down his back, heedless of the water and blood that began to dampen your clothes, breathing in the scent of warm whiskey and leather, of gun oil and fresh rain and blood. “Stop worrying about my clothes or the floors, you silly man,” you said softly, setting your chin on his shoulder. His breath hitched at your voice, his arms still locked between you, a barrier you knew he needed help to break down. “I don’t care about those. I care about you, Michael. No matter what happens, that won’t change. I’ll stand here all night with you if I have to.”

He choked out a shaking breath against your hair, and you could feel it the moment he began to break, his arms tentatively unwinding so his hands could find their way around your waist. Almost as if he were still convinced his touch, his need for comfort would be rejected. Something far warmer than rain dripped against your neck. “Why?” he whispered. “I don’t understand. I have nothin’ to give ya. To give anyone. I keep tryin’ to be what everyone needs, but I can’t even do tha’ right. Why do ya keep openin’ the door for a broken man, pet?”

“You might be hurt, but you’re far from broken,” you murmured, turning your head to lay it on his shoulder as his hold gradually tightened around you, his hands fisting in the fabric of your shirt. Another shaky breath rattled out of him, more of his tears rolling down your throat until he finally let his head fall to your neck, accepting what you’d offered. “I open the door because I just need you, exactly as you are. You’re who I want. So you can let go, Mikey. There’s nothing here you need to fix, no one else you need to be.” 

That was all it took, and between one breath and the next, he crumbled in your arms, the entire terrible night, terrible year, terrible life tearing its way out of him in choked, ragged sobs, the sounds of someone who hadn't been able to let go for some time. You held him as tightly as you could, soft, comforting whispers in his ears, your hands running gently down his back and back up through his hair as he let fall every last wall he’d put up between him and the outside world. 

It took time for that cresting wave of emotion to ease, time you spent with your head on his shoulder, with your chest to his, until eventually the shaking of his body began to slow, his breath easing against your throat into something slower and gentler. Only then did you guide him to the bathroom, setting him down on the side of the tub so you could clean him up. He accepted the care in silence, his eyes half closed, his form slumped and exhausted, drained after the emotional release. You knew better than to press before he was ready—and besides, people had demanded enough out of him tonight without you adding to it—so you let the quiet have its place as you bandaged him up, cleaning the blood from his hands and drying him off without so much as a hint of judgment. Whenever his breath grew a little shaky again, you’d lift his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles to remind him he was safe.

You left him alone just long enough for him to change, and you were grateful you'd both decided he should keep a few changes of clothes here. It was another unspoken intimacy between you both, this knowledge that your home was a retreat for him just as his home sometimes was for you, even if neither of you had said as much. Once he was changed and he stepped out of the bathroom, dark eyes immediately seeking you out, you tipped your head in a request he follow you before heading towards the bedroom.

He hesitated, and you paused in the doorway, waiting.

It wasn’t every time he came here that you both wound up curled up together. So far, it only seemed to happen on those bad nights, those nights when one of you needed the other’s presence to act as a shield against nightmares, against waves of grief or bloodied hurt. Until now, however, those moments had always taken place on the couch, the two of you dozing off together under the excuse that you’d never intended to fall asleep at all and well, it was late, wasn't it? It was expected. Tonight, however, you just… thought he deserved a bed.

That you and he had never taken this step before hung heavy between you, weighted and intimate as he considered you, his gaze shifting over your shoulder to the open doorway in thought. Neither of you had dared offer access to the other’s bed until now. Hell, you hadn’t even kissed yet, though there’d been… moments when you’d both come close, dancing along that edge, driven by adrenaline or alcohol or just a quiet moment when you both seemed to be drawn into it. But there was no alcohol now, no mistaking the shift in the air. There’d be no going back after this, no more pretending, even if no one had believed either of you before now when you’d both sworn you were simply good friends.

After a long moment… the soft padding of his footsteps began to follow. 

The bed came first, soft sheets and the gradually returning warmth of him, one of your arms draped over his waist as he buried his face in your hair, the two of you twined together so closely that there was no space at all between you. 

Then came his voice, the soft lilt of it soothing you as much as your touch seemed to be soothing him. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without ya,” he murmured, his breath slowly easing down into something like peace, like contentment. He nuzzled at you gently, and you tipped your head up to meet his eyes. The warmth in them stole your breath away, filled with tender light and a devotion so deep you knew you could spend the rest of your life searching for the bottom and never find it. “Every time I think I’ve lost who I am again, yer there to bring me back. I just… I feel real when I’m with ya. I…” 

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he seemed to make a decision. He dipped his head down slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. Instead, you tilted your head back, your hand sliding up to tangle in his damp hair as his lips finally met yours. 

Your first kiss with him was a soft, new thing, fragile as spun strands of glass. His lips still tasted a little of copper and whiskey, skin chapped from the cold night air, but his breath was warm, and his mouth moved against yours with a growing confidence as you leaned into him, using your fingers in his hair to pull him in closer, his beard a pleasant scrape against your skin. His name on your lips was a sigh, a gift to him, one he breathed in as if he wanted to draw it down into the very heart of him. When he finally pulled away, he laid his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering closed as he just... breathed with you. You reached up to stroke your fingers warmly against his cheek, and he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, though he didn't seem ready to open them just yet. “Wanted ta do that for a while, now,” he admitted. “Since not long after we met, if ’m honest.” “I may or may not have wanted the same thing,” you huffed softly, his smile growing wider. 

“Can I take ya to breakfast tomorrow?”

You made a contented noise as you curled into him, and he wound around you, the two of you getting comfortable for the night. It felt… permanent, as if you two had simply been waiting to find your way here, this place you were both meant for. 

“I’d love that.”

And maybe tomorrow... you'd tell him you loved him, too.